By Sam Reeves

I haven’t written anything I care about in some time. I have podcasted in the meantime, but I decided it was time to get back to writing for my millions of adoring fans. This isn’t your Michael Jordan “I’m Back” fax type of comeback. It’s more of a middle-aged fighter coming out of retirement because they needed the money. The only difference is, I am not getting paid for any of this. Just writing something stupid or podcasting about something stupid makes me happy.

As of this writing, the White Sox played their first spring training game yesterday. It was the first time I felt like I got some of that Sarah Tonen everyone talks about. I still haven’t personally met her, but at least she came out to say hi yesterday. Getting to see Major League Baseball in any capacity is an Indoor Fin rush for me.

I am not talking about the game itself, the players, sounds, etc. I am talking about the rush I get from taking to Twitter and shit posting.

It is no secret that Celeste is better than me at shit posting. However, there is a certain art to my tweets when it comes to White Sox baseball. I prey on the average baseball consumer. I seek them out because I want them to see my tweets. I use the buzzwords to get them reeled in; then, it’s game on. No, I don’t have original material; I need to wait for something to happen before I strike. Being a reactive commenter is a true skill. Not only does it take a quick wit but it also takes being clever and timely.

Through several crazy life experiences, including an emergency brain surgery, I have decided that life is a huge joke. Every day is a blessing but that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun at others’ expense. No, you shouldn’t attack people based on their sexual orientation, gender, or race because that is pretty messed up. Making fun of something that you also enjoy is the way to go. That’s why sports are fair game when it comes to shit posting.

Now if you are new to the shit posting tactics, that’s OK. You’re exactly who we need to fuel this creative fire. Please mansplain things to me, tell me I am wrong, and attack my opinion. I need it like I need air to breathe. Confusing portions of Twitter by having the display name I do is the best part. I am not making fun of you for not understanding my joke. I am making fun of you for not understanding Twitter.

Again, I am not even the best shit poster when it comes to the White Sox. There are so many good accounts that do this at an elite level. However, this isn’t about them so fuck ’em. Doing something for the love of the game makes me feel alive. This doesn’t get my mortgage paid, my car paid, shit, it doesn’t even buy me a 99-cent ice cream cone.

Living the way I do, not just online, is for the love of the damn game. Life is a battle of wits between your brain trying to be sad and trying to be happy. You need to intervene in that brain battle with a little bit of stupid to cleanse the pallet.

In closing, I want to say to those who have been with me on this journey: thank you. To those friends I will make along the way I say: hello. For those who are reading one of my tweets for the first time and decided it made them mad, I say: there’s so much more to come. PHRASING!