If I could only read one blog a day, it would be John Gruber’s Daring Fireball. It’s the place for all things related to The Company Formerly Known As Apple Computer. But today he posted an entry that follows an irregular-but-no-less annoying pattern, which can be summarized as such:

I’m a member of a club that is too cool for school and we just initiated some new members. [Deeply buried subtext: You are not one of them.]

What is this “cool club” and who is in it? This club is called The Deck and its members are various web design-related sites that have one other common feature: they sell ads.

Let me start by saying that I have no problems with websites that advertise. Having a house on Internet street costs money and somebody has to pay the rent. For some web authors, ad revenue is a significant portion of their income. And from a reader perspective, these ads are way down on the annoying scale: they are small, unobtrusive and there is only one per page. I’m a regular reader of more than a few of the websites involved and I have even clicked on a few of these ads.

I also understand–and appreciate–why they are selective in which ads they will accept. What I don’t get is why these otherwise excellent sites feel the need to act like some sort of exclusive college fraternity and announce when new members have been admitted to the frat house. This leads to responses such as this from one of the new pledges:

“I feel honored having been invited to join The Deck, a premier advertising network for creative, web and design professionals.”

This is like the Sundance Channel and the Independent Film Channel airing a commercial that they have invited Bravo to air the same ads. Who cares? Again, I enjoy reading these sites and I don’t begrudge them for displaying ads, especially these. But these sites are good for a myriad of reasons: strong writing, and excellent design to name two, but being in the same advertising club isn’t one of them. I hope they make a pile of cash and take a trip to the Bahamas as long as they keep doing what they are doing when they get back. But spare me the updates on who made this year’s cheerleading squad.

Note: I’ve had this filed away for when I got around to writing this post: The Dreck.

For the longest time, I have prided myself on my almost total apathy for professional sports. The one sport I get up for is college football, and everything that is good about it (the rivalries, the traditions, stadiums packed with 80-100,000 fans) does not exist in the NFL. The NBA? Basketball in general just doesn’t do it for me. The excess of wannabe rappers doesn’t help either. Case in point: San Antonio Spur Tony Parker has started calling himself “Tony Pizzle” in promotion of his own rap album. That isn’t even the funny part. His album will be in French. How about hockey? Any sport with that much fighting must be cool, right? Wrong. Any sport that divides its games into three periods, counts assists as points and allows games to end in a tie is suspect. Plus, did anyone outside of Canada care that there was no hockey season last year? Speaking of fighting, I would rather watch paint dry than watch a boxing match. As for America’s Past Time, baseball – wake me up in September and maybe I’ll care.

Now, this isn’t to say I don’t like sports at all. I watch my fair share of SportsCenter and I even have a subscription to ESPN The Magazine. For reasons that aren’t worth explaining, I’m a rabid follower of the America’s Cup. I will also admit to being one of the worst cases of a fair-weather fan. Come September and the Dodgers may make the playoffs? I’ll watch. A miracle happens and the Redskins stop sucking? Go Skins. I even paid attention when the Spurs started to win championships a few years ago, but only because I’m from San Antonio. My worst offense is this year’s NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament, an event that usually causes me to reach for the snooze bar. But since Texas A&M is ranked sixth in the country and looking to be a #2 seed, I’m watching games and dissecting RPI like everyone else. So I admit it, I’m that guy.

There is one thing that I don’t have to admit, nor will I ever. And that is playing any sort of fantasy anything. The situation has grown worse over the years and I don’t get it. ESPN actually devotes airtime to talking heads to tell people who to draft and who to “start” that week. The most recent issue of The Magazine includes 35 pages dedicated to fantasy baseball. Every position rank-ordered and how much you should pay for them ($4 for 2B Luis Castillo: “picking him is like ordering salmon in a nice restaurant: guaranteed to be good, not likely to be great”.)

Last year I actually witnessed a room full of grown men, shielding their notebooks, scouting reports and draft strategies from wandering eyes, go through their NFL fantasy draft. After about an hour and only being halfway through round two, I came to the following realization: playing fantasy sports is one very small step removed from playing Dungeons and Dragons. The guy declaring all the league rules and making sure the drafts goes smoothly? He’s the Dungeon Master. All those silly fantasy guide books that take up an entire shelf at the Barnes & Noble magazine rack? D&D Player Handbook and Sorcery Guide, Volumes I-III. Checking all of your “players” stats on the Internet after the big games? You might as well be sorting your “Magic: The Gathering” playing cards.

I enjoy reading Bill Simmons - he’s an excellent writer with a sarcastic flair that I admire. He also “fields” numerous fantasy teams and his wife’s sentiments on the matter are spot on:

This week, I noticed playoff baseball started, so I asked Bill, “What happened with the League of Dorks?” Bill said they won first prize. He didn’t even seem happy about it. He was just relieved that they didn’t lose. Then he said he’s having a celebratory lunch with Hench next week. I said they should order a bottle of fake champagne and fake pour it on each other. I hate the League of Dorks.

What motivates otherwise smart people to shift into Nerd Overdrive? Has professional sports team GM rocketed up the Walter Mitty standings? It can’t be a case of “I-could-be-a-coach” because fantasy players don’t do any actual, you know, coaching. Other than figuring out the “starting lineup” for their “team”, what other decisions are being made here? What is the friggin’ point in all of this? Sticking it to your nerd buddy on Monday because your team scored more points than his? To set up some brilliant mid-season trade to ditch your up-and-comer who turned out to actually suck for some other player who sucks a little less? What is the signing bonus for a trade like that, a bag of Doritos and access to your buddy’s Battlestar Galactica DVD collection? If you are into this sort of thing, best of luck to you. Just don’t misplace your set of twenty-sided dice. Determining hit points (or homeruns) is tough without those things.

While I was still working on getting this site back up to speed, I would file away interesting things that I came across. One such thing was this list of the Internet’s Best of 1994 and Predictions for 1995. Twelve years ago…that’s like stumbling across Life Magazine’s Best of 1947 and Swell Things for 1948. Reading through the list brought back memories of hooking up to the “Internet” with my 2400 baud modem in 1993. A few choice quotes:

The Internet Chess Server: Always near to bursting with activity, you’re guaranteed to find a chess mate of your skill level. Brush the cobwebs off your game or challenge a grandmaster. I personally keep a physical chess board handy so I can better visualize the game (to access, telnet to ics.onenet.net 5000)

Better visualize the game? And who remembers telnet?

Most awesome thing I downloaded: Doom, of course

Yep, me too.

“All you have to do,” he said, “is type the word ‘lynx’ at your Unix prompt, and presto! You’re into the Web.”

I guess Mosaic (which came out in 1993) hadn’t caught on yet. And my favorite:

The organization of the World-Wide Web. I love the Web, but finding something specific on it is a nightmare. And because the Web is growing by leaps and bounds, I just don’t see things getting easier anytime soon.

Dude. At least Alta Vista was right around the corner.