Cheers to a year of Finding!

The Finder celebrates it's one-year anniversary with some reflection.

Me, last week, debating whether to make the leap.

You might think that I had August 8th circled on my calendar.

The date marks one year since I published my first post on Substack. One might expect this proprietor to spend that day in deep reflection about the year of independence and all the joy that the writing and the Finder community support has brought me.

But it didn’t happen that way.

The day came and went without personal fanfare.

And actually, I’m a little ashamed to admit it: the one-year anniversary didn’t occur to me at all.

But I have a good excuse. I was on vacation. On August 8th, you could have found me drifting aimlessly on a remote Tennessee lake with my family, fulfilling a promise to my wife that I would unplug. That photo at the top? That’s me on a Norris Lake ledge last week, unplugging.

I owed it to her. Big time. I had spent so much of the past year holed up in my office away from her and the kids. This past year was … a lot. It was probably the most productive, grueling and gratifying year of my career.

A year ago, I launched this very Substack and got back to writing full-time after a two-year hiatus. Shortly after that, I became a Blazers TV broadcaster and somehow won an Emmy along the way. Then I added a writing deal with Yahoo Sports that provided me the editorial muscle to deliver one of my biggest stories of my career: the questionable statkeeping behind MJ’s 1988 DPOY campaign. At the same time, I launched ANOTHER Substack — Pack Your Knives! — and continued to help operate the Count The Dings podcast company with my guys (and did a live show!).

Nick Wright, Bomani Jones, Tray Edwards, Wosny Lambre and I at the live CTD show.

It was a lot. A lot of deeply fulfilling work.

And it all starts with launching this Substack. This time last year, I was in a bad place.

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OK, reflection time. Last August, I was reeling after the recent death of my mother. That was bad enough. My time at Meadowlark was coming to an end, and I wasn’t happy about how things went. Underneath it all, I had a family that depended on me. There’s a certain overwhelming anxiety that hits when others rely on you having your shit together. This time last year, I didn’t.

Above all, I worried that I couldn’t write anymore. I hadn’t published in two years. There was a sinking feeling of self-doubt every time I thought about it. I had come to believe that the ability to write is a muscle and I feared that the muscle that had atrophied to the point of no return. It’s a paralyzing feeling, that self-doubt.

My wife and close friends pulled me out and urged me to launch a Substack. They told me I could do it. I was terrified. Worried that I couldn’t hack it. Worried that no one would support me in my endeavor. Worried that it was all over. I hadn’t been writing in years. Why would anyone trust that I could do this?

And then I launched. And everything started to turn.

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Look, I tried to unplug. I can say I made an honest effort. I knew that USA Basketball was kicking into high gear but I couldn’t cover it in-depth while I was away. So I came up with a plan to bank a post. Leading up to the week-long vacation, I decided to do a quick evergreen post that would work nicely as an independent sidebar.

Which of the 50 United States would have the best Olympics squad? What might that look like?

Finding out the answer was deeply satisfying, like I had discovered a whole new lens to look at the world of basketball.

Turn out, the research was not quick at all. It took hours and hours at the lake to assemble those rosters and write about it. I woke up early and carved out some time at the lake and got it done. And you know what? I had a blast doing it. Compiling those spreadsheets and digging through player bios didn’t feel like work at all. I was in my groove. I was Finding.

I have a sneaky feeling that the database I created will lead to more stories, and that’s the coolest part about research projects. Sometimes, you end up finding more leads than you ever thought possible.

This is why I wanted to launch The Finder. I needed to have an outlet for these research curiosities that might turn into stories that change the way you think about everything.

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So I hit publish. How many U.S. States could win gold? It posted on August 8th. One year since the launch.

And then it occurred to me. I published the piece at the same lake when I got the call last year in the middle of the night, the call from Dad letting me know that Mom died. A year since the launch, a year since the call, it’s all tied together.

Some of you know the namesake of this site is a tribute to my mother. Ever since I was a little kid, she used to call me “The Finder” in our house so the family conveniently wouldn’t have to look for lost items. Maybe it was my wife and close friends who convinced me to launch this thing. But after thinking about it, there’s another person for whom I owe a lot of credit: Mom. She was always my biggest fan. In the end, I’m still a little boy trying to make her proud.

She believed in me, yes. But you supported me. I want to express gratitude to each and every one of you for subscribing and sticking with me. I also want to thank Chris Bartell for the art and Kevin Arnovitz for the edits. I loved writing for you all and letting you inside this batshit-crazy brain of mine. I’m genuinely proud of the work I did in this space over the past year. Among the greatest hits of The Finder:

Uncovering the Midseason Referee Whistle-Swallowing pseuo-scandal. The weekly Tom’s Title Tiers. Gobert and Draymond. The Finder Film sessions with BP. Ja Morant and that empty locker room. Scott Foster. Always Scott Foster.

So, thank you. I have more in store and can’t wait for another year of Finding.

Looking back on the year, I realized you, my subscribers, taught me something.

Sometimes, you just gotta make the leap.