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Three long years ago, in early fall 2005, I filed my first ClayNation column for the SPiN section of what was then CBSSportsLine.com. It dealt with crying in relation to sporting events. The actual CBS link has long since faded into Internet oblivion.
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| Once appealing only to solo guys at bars, ClayNation soon found a hot girl following at SPiN. (Provided to CBSSports.com) |
Initial response was less than exceptional. But it was a start. Every week since then, over 144 weeks in a row, there has been at least one ClayNation column up -- and almost always two or, since the beginning of 2007, three. Lots of those columns were long. Really long. In almost three years I have written in the neighborhood of 400 columns and one million words. Some of these words have even combined into sentences that made sense.
After all this I'm leaving for Deadspin, where I'll be blogging all day every workday and also, shockingly, pulling down double duty as an associate editor.
Initially I came up with the name ClayNation (actually my friend J.T. did) for two reasons: 1) I wanted to make fun of the cliché of calling every fan base a nation; and 2) I thought Clay Aiken might sue me and I liked the idea of a court battle with Clay Aiken over the soul of the name Clay. Because, already, I knew that witty CBS e-mailers were going to be sending e-mails like this one: "Clay Travis, might as well be Clay Aiken." Yeah, right, awesome.
From writing about which SEC coaches would be the most likely to pee on the Masters course to doing a discreet Phil Mickelson-esque lefty hand pump when FUPA made the editorial cut (though bi-curious didn't), my first goal with the column was always to write something that would entertain me if I was in the middle of a discovery dispute and was this close to ramming my head into my desk until blessed oblivion arrived. So, for all you lawyers out there, you are my inspiration.
My second goal was to have fun and not take sports or myself too seriously. That was it.
Amazingly, these two rules have worked. Almost exclusively because of you guys, the readers. I know I have called for a quiz bowl between bloggers and mainstream media members, but I would put my readers up against any column readership in the country when it comes to intelligence and sense of humor. And I'm convinced y'all would win and it wouldn't even be close.
Since numbers have been a regular feature of the column, I figured nothing would be more appropriate than a list of 13 things that jump out at me from the past three years of the column:
1. October 2005: I receive my first e-mail stating, "You're gay." Since that time I have received this same e-mail, or a subtle variation, ("You're so gay," "You're gay Clay.") approximately 1,152 times. Or about eight times a week on average. Amazingly, I managed to father a child and my heterosexuality remains unscathed. Although, to be fair, Bear Grylls made a good run at me back in late 2007.
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| Soap box derbies, usually fun affairs, can lead to federal trouble if you don't watch what you say. (Getty Images) |
One of the parents was clinically insane and, I swear to you, he cc'ed me an e-mail he sent to the FBI. It said that I should be investigated to see whether or not my Soap Box Derby column violated federal law and included my contact information for the FBI.
Moral to the story? You too can e-mail the FBI. I'm still floored by this -- the actual FBI has an e-mail address. Sadly the FBI never responded to my e-mail to ask if it had opened a file on me.
3. Pink dolphins: I'm not sure when pink dolphins made their first appearance, but I know I'll never forget them. Nor will I be able to, since I have adopted a pink dolphin on behalf of the column and named him Tolbert (after Frank Tolbert of Auburn, who has six fingers).
4. Les Miles: The column begins at the same time Les Miles began coaching at LSU. Some might call this a coincidence. I call it fate. Les might be a national champion now, but, more importantly, he will always be our inaugural beaver pelt trader of the year. I can't thank the guy enough.
5. Solo guys out at bars who were readers of the column started to say hello sometime in early 2006. The first readers of the column began to approach me at bars and tell me how much they enjoyed reading.
Invariably, in the words of my friend Tardio, the guys who came up to talk to me were "rolling solo at the bar." It was uncanny. These guys would appear, say hello, we'd chat, and then they'd disappear. Later we would see them standing alone, resting up against a wall, drinking a beer.
6. The Dixieland Delight Tour (DDT): I'm sure there have been people who have had more fun during a 13-week period than I did. But all of those people are multimillionaires in Hollywood.
From the first weekend in September 2006 to the last weekend in December that year, I immersed myself in SEC football. And I loved it. The resulting book sold a ton of copies and I have you guys to thank for the fact that I'll be spending another season on the road, 2008, writing a new book for HarperCollins.
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| Once an object of affection for Clay, 'Bama Bangs may be in his own future. (Getty Images) |
8. Pacman Jones making it rain: I still maintain the funniest thing I have heard in the past five years was my dad, a Titans season-ticket holder, angry about Pacman Jones being in trouble yet again. "I don't know," my 63-year-old dad said, "why Pacman had to go and make it rain." You and me both, Dad, you and me both. The combination of making-it-rain talk and Tennessee senior citizens was gold bullion.
9. The beard: I was asked recently whether I thought the beard would still be in style when Fox was old enough to grow one. Still? The beard is not about style. That's like asking whether sex or football will still be in style in 20 years. The answer is yes, by God, yes. The beard's about getting it done, being a man, accepting risk, doing whatever the hell you damn well please. Will the beard still be in style? B to the G to the I to the D. Forever.
10. Tim Tebow: I hate to say it, but he has made the column 1,000 percent more enjoyable than it otherwise would have been. Although, and this is alarming, I'm now featured in strange YouTube videos that appear intended to denigrate Tebow. Only I'm included as a Tebow friend. That's rough.
11. Can't forget the hot girl readers, who my friends still couldn't impress even though the girls knew them from the column or the book and already liked them.
As I have said, around the fall of 2007 the column suddenly tipped into hot girl territory. The solo guys vanished and hot girl readers started to approach and say they enjoyed reading the column.
My single friends would see me talking to girls, I would introduce them, a girl would scream, for instance, "Oh my god, THE Tardio," Tardio would raise his hand for a high-five greeting and then five minutes later I would see him standing by himself.
12. Apostrophes: Rest assured the CAR will not give up the ghost now that I have moved over to Deadspin. Keep the apostrophe names coming. Every single one is its own special gift. Long live S'Quindalyn.
13. My status as the pregnant antebellum stepdaughter of CBS Sports. I have had lots of fun with this because there's a great deal of truth to it. But there are also an awful lot of people at the site who let me run wild with the column and have a tremendous time in the process. I won't list them all here but they all know who they are. Thanks for taking a chance on me with the column.
All 13 of these things pale in comparison to this: The fact that I can make a living writing on the Internet at all. It's altogether possible I am the most technologically illiterate 29-year-old in America. I didn't have an e-mail address until 1997 when I arrived at college.
I remember smirking when I was told then that I would come to value my e-mail address more than my phone number. Even with an e-mail address I didn't own my first computer until 2001.
When that computer died in 2004 I had to switch to my wife's laptop for about six months. That ended well. Or not. Her computer stopped working mysteriously. She took it to a computer doctor, who later returned her reworked computer to our condo and said, "I'm guessing a man uses this computer a lot."
I heard that from the hallway and immediately went to hide in the bedroom. We weren't married yet and I knew nothing good was coming from this conversation. My now-wife, then girlfriend, stammered a response, "Yes. Why?"
Computer doctor: "It had 148 viruses on it. You might want to tell your boyfriend to be careful about which sites he visits."
Careful indeed. But not as careful as General Richard Stoddert Ewell on this same date 145 years ago at Gettysburg. On July 2, 1863, he wasn't able to take Cemetery Hill. We'll keep on taking those hills at Deadspin, I promise. Until then come back Friday for a final All That and a Bag of Mail. And thanks to y'all, every single one of you.
