Je Me Souviens

I've developed a mean, awful streak in me. In my own corrupt way, I can write. Some of you have told me this. So have professors and journalists. Even my little pet hamster through Morse code. It's not over-confidence that permits me to write this but a combination of personal observation reading other people's work and what professional writers have told me. Am I an award winning author? Who fucken knows? I never tried it. I should but I probably won't it looks like. My dreams are colliding with reality now.

They, all those life advisors from teachers to friends, say keep writing and knocking hard and suddenly, magically even, all will unblock. Keep chippin' away friend, I'm told.

For those of you out there who hit the tarmac everyday looking to be noticed or hired, you'll understand what I'm about to say. I get the "keep working at it" angle because life is all about timing. If you stop, the timing may pass you by. However, it gets really, really grating when you apply somewhere, after analyzing and concluding, "Sure, I can do this. I'm certainly ahead of the curve than this douche" only to get mysteriously rejected by some online editor named "Erica" or "Eric" 10 years your junior and with half the experience.

I know for a fact not too many editors have the knowledge I have. I know this because I've dealt and spoke with a few and so far I haven't met one who can match wits. "Man, you know too much!" one girl put it. But that didn't stop her from trying to restructure a previously published article. I politely told her, "Hey, if it made a magazine it's good enough for a blog."

We're told to "grin and thank you" every rejection. Grace under fire, don't burn your bridges and all that. Wise words. I know I'm pretty laid back when it comes to stuff like that. My ego is kept in check by my humble, sense of practical realism. I'm fairly confident, but I certainly don't believe I'm smarter than the next guy. Wait. The guy next to me is pretty stupid but the girl next to him. Self-doubt and curiosity drive me.

However, I'm starting to crack. I'm a tad fed up with being turned down when I know the content of my ideas are original and can be properly conveyed.

Recently, I applied to examiner.com. "What do you have to lose!" a friend told me. He's always saying that. He suggested, as an informed soccer fan, I put my knowledge of the sport to work on a big site. After perusing their soccer section, I figured, hey, the soccer coverage can use a hand. I played the game for 25 years at a high level, write about it all the time and even wrote pieces European fans enjoyed. To boot, I did local work for a local sports radio show during the 2006 World Cup giving my two cents about the matches. It was a success. I remember hearing one caller say, "Hey, that Super Sandro knows his shit. Get him on more often!"

My sports writing and knowledge is pretty solid. I definitely know the history of sports and tend to connect it with contemporary issues - sprinkled in with humor when necessary. I offloaded my sports writing to Blogcritics and Intersportswire (which is currently absorbing a partnership with a sports management and marketing company that enjoyed our content) and must say, again, I'm satisfied so far. Much more needs to be worked out but it's blogging so wrinkles are part of the game. I get emails from readers from time to time telling me how they enjoyed the "tone and flow" of the work as one film maker put it.

Yet, somehow, someone at the Examiner decided I couldn't "get on board."

For the first time, I yelled at the computer, "Fuck you! You guys kidding me?" I even pulled up a soccer article from their site that was basically weak in structure and language. The word "looked" was used three times in two sentences for cripes sake! I don't write that way. Call it an irritant but please, avoid using the same word, especially one that is vague like "looked," often.

Meanwhile, here I am, researching Atletico Bilbao and the Montreal Canadiens, Hungarian soccer in the 1950s and evolution of tactics, and they say they don't need this shit? Moreover, I was applying to cover the Champions League - a tournament I know very well. My goal was to cover it and write it for a North American audience.

No dice. Amazing. It's not like I was applying to write for the Times. 

Maybe I didn't fill out their fucking "tell us about yourself" boxes right. I hate those things. I hate them because I can never effectively transfer my broad knowledge there. The only way, and I''m convinced of this, I'll ever get a fair shot is if I actually speak to someone and hold a relevant conversation.

Anyway. When I do make it. *Insert American Idol nutwhack job here. You know, the type who screams I'll make it you'll see! Even though they possess singing skills of a rat in heat*

When I do make it, I'll go Michael Jordan on everyone and remember all the people who "cut" me for lesser talents. The memory knives are being sharpened as we speak.