Ok, this one is not gonna be a poem. It’s 2:39AM, and I’m tired.

As I wrote recently, I’ve been contemplating changing a few things about this site. In order for a blog to be successful, you need to have people coming back every day. Unfortunately, I simply cannot write baseball poetry every day, or I’ll go nuts. The verses need to come when they want to come.

So I have been planning to expand my writing to include essays. I won’t be doing any sabermetric analysis; there are a gazillion sites that do that. Instead, I intend to look at baseball aesthetically– a side of baseball that the blogosphere is neglecting, and an area I know something about. The science of sabermetrics can explain why teams win, but only the science of aesthetics can explain why fans watch.

I also plan to redesign the site, and add a few features that will make this site more fun and interesting, while still continuing with the baseball poetry. I was hoping to launch the new design around New Year’s.

One of those fun things I’ve been working on is a Periodic Table of Links. Thinking I had about a month and a half before it needed to be done, I was just sort of leisurely working on it. I started trying it out, to see if it was useful. One of the links was to Instapundit, the king of the blogosphere.

Well, even though I had no links to it on my site, Instapundit saw the URL in his referrer logs yesterday, and then linked to it himself. So much for security by obscurity. Suddenly, the whole blogosphere knew about it.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the blogosphere at the time; I was outside painting a playhouse I’ve been building for my kids. Imagine my surprise when I logged on later and found that Instapundit had linked to a page of mine that was incomplete and nobody was supposed to know about!

Well, I’ve been scrambling ever since to make that page presentable. It was intended to be just my personal list o’links, like every other blog has, only with a humorous interface. But thanks to Instapundit, now it’s got some kind of Authority, with a capital A. People want to be on the list. It’s quite strange.

So I guess I’ll be accelerating those changes now; implementing them piece by piece instead of all at once. But that’s for tomorrow to worry about.

Now it’s bedtime. Maybe when I wake in the morning, Patrick Duffy will be in my shower. I’ll think to myself, “Barry Zito’s uncle! What is he doing here?” And since he’s all wet, I’ll wonder if it isn’t Barry Zito’s uncle at all, but the Man From Atlantis, and that will remind me of the weird episode where the Man From Atlantis goes to another planet where water is completely invisible and he runs into Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, which will make me try to remember whether Kareem is called Roger or Clarence in Airport, which will remind me of the angel named Clarence in It’s a Wonderful Life, and I’ll think about jumping off a bridge into the water because I’m going insane from a lack of sleep, but the angel will tell me that I mustn’t do that, and I’ll say “what are you gonna do to me, make it so I’ve never been born?” And he’ll say, no, because the man in my shower is not the Man From Atlantis at all; it’s only Bobby Ewing; and so then I’ll ask Bobby Ewing to go get his brother J.R. for me, and I’ll ask J.R. to get that genie friend of his to blink me back in time so I never clicked on that Instapundit link on that half-completed page, so none of this really happened, and I went to bed early and got a good night’s sleep.

And all will be well, and all my friends will love me, and we’ll all gather around the Christmas tree and sing, “Should auld aquaintance be forgot…” And I’ll look up, wink, and say, “Good night, Clarence.”