Scenes From A Barstool Awards Show
One of the first things you realize when you start working here is how insignificant you are. I don't even mean that in some negative way. It's just the truth. You are a tiny cog in what is a huge machine. The vibes at the Boston House of Blues last night were fantastic. It was as happy as I've seen my coworkers. Drama is juicy and fun, but in general, I prefer to see my coworkers happy. Is that weird? That might be weird. But I digress. This was a beautiful love letter to what Barstool has been over the last 20 years. I'd like to think of myself as a Barstool historian, but even I was not familiar with some of the jokes and videos played during this ceremony. But that made it all the more fun.
The show itself was awesome. It was full of twists and turns. It literally had the widest range of emotions. Per usual, Barstool is stranger than fiction. You had tears, you had laughter, you had Nate ripping the entire company to shreds. You had Francis making everybody laugh our asses off. There was something in there for everyone last night. But through all the wide range of emotions, there was something remarkably sincere about last night's event. It's pretty rare that we get everyone together under one roof. Those are Barstool days, and Barstool days are the best days. The entire island of misfit toys in one room together is a glorious sight.
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If someone woke up from a 20-year coma, and you tried to explain to that person what Barstool Sports is, by the time I got halfway through, that person would tell them to stop lying. Barstool Sports is one of one. The way that this thing has grown even in the two years since I've been at the company is remarkable. Barstool has its own bowl game, for christ sakes. It's a big ass deal now, but at its core, Barstool Sports is the ultimate underdog story. There's been a whole lot of growth, a whole lot of turnover, and a whole lot of change, but at the end of the day, Barstool remains a voice for the voiceless. A home for the misfits. It's a pirate ship you'd be crazy to jump off of.
What Frank said in his speech resonated with so many people. He couldn't have said it any better. Everyone who works here had a dream at some point. Throughout that time, they had a whole lot of doors slammed in their face. There's always 1 million reasons for someone to say no. There were also a million reasons for Dave Portnoy not to hand out newspapers in a Boston subway station. Sometimes the craziest motherfuckers are the only ones capable of putting a dent in the universe. That's the Barstool way. 
Twenty years is unbelievable. To be a small part of that is a privilege. When you're going through it, it's human nature to want to be more involved. You always feel like you can do more. But everyone here is here for a reason. The coolest part is that Barstool can never be duplicated. It can never be replicated. You can't recreate this chaos. You can't try to explain this weirdness. Barstool is a fucking anomaly, with Dave Portnoy as the puppet master. Nights like last night are a fresh reminder of how fucking lucky we all are to have stepped foot on the pirate ship. You can say a lot of shit, but you sure as hell can't ignore us. Here's to twenty more years of Viva.