How To Birth a Show

We have a trailer. And a name

Despite everything my three-year-old daughter, Violet, has taught me — that my tear ducts had been constipated for three decades; that professional broadcasting doesn’t make me anywhere near as good at reading bedtime stories as my wife; that parenting should never be likened to podcasting — I keep comparing the launching of my show to a birth.

Which makes sense, I guess, if you spent every weekday for about three years nurturing a young sports pod. But then decided to shack up with a man who ate an edible at your wedding in 2016 and, on account of his shockingly nonexistent tolerance, wound up looking like this in every single picture:

You can already imagine how weird this baby — this show — is gonna look.

But if you’re a subscriber here, graciously entrusting me with a lil space inside your inbox, a space that’s so far been as vacant as Dan Le Batard’s stare in my wedding photos (I mean: look at it), you don’t have to imagine much longer.

This show now has an official due date: Tuesday, Sept. 5, 2023.

And it finally has a name:

There’s so much more to come about all this, obviously. We will publish shows three times a week — each designed to be an audio-first episode that can play just as well in video. (Consider this trailer a preview of that goal, too.)

We’re producing them out of New York City, in the new Meadowlark Media studio/newsroom (!) we’ve been building. Till then, we’re up on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, TikTok, Whatever the Fuck Twitter Is, and Instagram.

There’s a lot happening. And I’ll also want you to be a real part of it.

So, for right now, thank you.

From my family to yours.

Pablo