The Simmons Site

Nearly all websites experience a traffic lull on weekends. Nearly all online-only news and sports sites post less frequently on weekends, and none post their best stuff. It simply won't reach as many readers. I'd anticipate you might see some blog posts on Grantland on the weekends, but Klosterman columns are likely Monday/Tuesday fodder.

 

Columbia Journ Review weighs in (a couple days ago, didn't see it posted here)....worth reading if just for the assessment of espn's role in this:

http://www.cjr.org/the_news_frontier/grantland_rises.php?page=all

 

Very good review, especially the last graf's statement about a different kind of locker room. A little snark toward the Jones, and a sample of why Simmons is far more a brand than a writer

 

Man, the money a writer could make if he were considered a brand.

 

"At best, Grantland so far is jaunty revelry for the sporting life and for culture at large. At worst, it threatens to go down as the Manhattan Project of navel-gazing."

"Chris Jones, the erstwhile Esquire sports columnist supernovaed with magazine masterpieces on the International Space Station and on a military funeral and on Roger Ebert, gives us a brief history of his suddenly renewed career as a baseball writer, focusing mostly on what it’s like to be Chris Jones and smitten with covering baseball. "

"It is a pleasure to read, even if it also looks as though the writing, that thing, that only thing here, has yet to turn its gaze away from the Writers themselves and assure us that we haven’t become trapped in yet another locker room."

 

"Mark McGwire" has no idea what you're talking about.

 

Not ours.

 

Loved that too. Awesome.

 

Not Judy Collins, although Mary Hopkin did sound like her.

 

We thought she'd never end.

 

I prefer the Archie and Edith version:

 

Yes my mistake. Join me in song:

Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way.
La la la la...
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days

Just tonight I stood before the tavern
Nothing seemed the way it used to be

In the glass I saw a strange reflection
Was that lonely writer really me