A few weeks ago, I was engaged in a discussion with a friend of mine named Ross about the fragility of life.
Since November, Ross had been involved in a relationship break, while dealing with a number of serious life traumas as he went through what was described to me as a very intense and serious Ketamine therapy. It had been a long last few months to say the least and despite all that weighed on Ross' mind that night, it was his career outlook that had him really gripping with his long-term fate.
As a graduate of the University of Texas with season-tickets on the 35-yard line, I'd seen Ross work as a wedding DJ business owner, serve as a manager at a rental car business and he even worked with me on the ground floor of a little project called The Yakk back in 2018. Ross could freaking do anything. He was a master bow hunter. He made his own bullets. He was a world-class scuba diver. I had joked with him for years that when the apocalypse arrived, I had a reservation at his house.
Yet, here he was a few weeks ago riddled with anxiety because a professional move to becoming a full-stack web developer hadn't truly worked out for him. He felt like his job was dangerously close to being lost and he wondered what might happen next.
"Dude, I am this close to having to become an HVAC repair person," he joked while fighting back tears.
His fear was that he was losing his viability and agency to be the person walking on this earth that he aspired to be, which would impact everything from his ability to start a family to paying taxes on his home in Hype Park to taking care of his aging mother. Make no mistake about it, Ross was dealing with a lot of weighty issues, but this career gamble that had left him in a bit of no man's land was a major elephant in the room with regards to his deepening depression.
10 days ago, Ross took his life.
A service was held for him on the 40 Acres yesterday in the Alumni Center.
As I grieved in isolation at the service, I found myself thinking about Orangebloods quite a bit. What a blessed life I have lived. As I type this, we're 100 days away from our site's 25th anniversary. The site has officially existed for 8,666 days.
One of the things that occurred to me in this conversation with Ross over Zoom on this particular night while we talked about the future, it was so obvious to me that I'm literally living out my dream as a professional sports reporter and it's the only thing I can imagine myself ever doing. It's my life. There's no doubt in my mind that on the day I die, I'll be writing a column for the site.
Over the course of the weeks that gone by since my conversation with Ross, I've found myself very rejuvenated on a professional level. A new dedication to Orangebloods emerged from the fire of shared souls. I've spent much of the last month doing an internal audit or our work for the last decade on the site in every element of coverage. We put together a site survey that proved to be invaluable on a lot of levels.
As we approach our silver anniversary on the site, I have made internal vows to myself that I will make Orangebloods as good as it has ever been over the course of 2025. I can't ever take any of this for granted. I can't rest on my butt. I can't treat the last 25 years like they are the only 25 years of Orangebloods that will ever matter.
Change is coming. I'm committed to it. I'll have more info in the coming days, but I feel like I'm at a crossroads moment in my life and I'm choosing to be proactive and aggressive instead of reactive and passive.
I appreciate all of you that have been on this decades-long journey with me. You are my soul's fuel. Always know that I care. Always know that I am committed to you. Always know that I will strive to be the best for you.
Onwards we go.
Since November, Ross had been involved in a relationship break, while dealing with a number of serious life traumas as he went through what was described to me as a very intense and serious Ketamine therapy. It had been a long last few months to say the least and despite all that weighed on Ross' mind that night, it was his career outlook that had him really gripping with his long-term fate.
As a graduate of the University of Texas with season-tickets on the 35-yard line, I'd seen Ross work as a wedding DJ business owner, serve as a manager at a rental car business and he even worked with me on the ground floor of a little project called The Yakk back in 2018. Ross could freaking do anything. He was a master bow hunter. He made his own bullets. He was a world-class scuba diver. I had joked with him for years that when the apocalypse arrived, I had a reservation at his house.
Yet, here he was a few weeks ago riddled with anxiety because a professional move to becoming a full-stack web developer hadn't truly worked out for him. He felt like his job was dangerously close to being lost and he wondered what might happen next.
"Dude, I am this close to having to become an HVAC repair person," he joked while fighting back tears.
His fear was that he was losing his viability and agency to be the person walking on this earth that he aspired to be, which would impact everything from his ability to start a family to paying taxes on his home in Hype Park to taking care of his aging mother. Make no mistake about it, Ross was dealing with a lot of weighty issues, but this career gamble that had left him in a bit of no man's land was a major elephant in the room with regards to his deepening depression.
10 days ago, Ross took his life.
A service was held for him on the 40 Acres yesterday in the Alumni Center.
As I grieved in isolation at the service, I found myself thinking about Orangebloods quite a bit. What a blessed life I have lived. As I type this, we're 100 days away from our site's 25th anniversary. The site has officially existed for 8,666 days.
One of the things that occurred to me in this conversation with Ross over Zoom on this particular night while we talked about the future, it was so obvious to me that I'm literally living out my dream as a professional sports reporter and it's the only thing I can imagine myself ever doing. It's my life. There's no doubt in my mind that on the day I die, I'll be writing a column for the site.
Over the course of the weeks that gone by since my conversation with Ross, I've found myself very rejuvenated on a professional level. A new dedication to Orangebloods emerged from the fire of shared souls. I've spent much of the last month doing an internal audit or our work for the last decade on the site in every element of coverage. We put together a site survey that proved to be invaluable on a lot of levels.
As we approach our silver anniversary on the site, I have made internal vows to myself that I will make Orangebloods as good as it has ever been over the course of 2025. I can't ever take any of this for granted. I can't rest on my butt. I can't treat the last 25 years like they are the only 25 years of Orangebloods that will ever matter.
Change is coming. I'm committed to it. I'll have more info in the coming days, but I feel like I'm at a crossroads moment in my life and I'm choosing to be proactive and aggressive instead of reactive and passive.
I appreciate all of you that have been on this decades-long journey with me. You are my soul's fuel. Always know that I care. Always know that I am committed to you. Always know that I will strive to be the best for you.
Onwards we go.
