And the moon glows at night like it's supposed to

Blaseball ended just over two weeks ago, and I'm still processing it. I've said a lot of things about it in a few different places, but the big take away is that this silly absurdist horror baseball simulator changed my life. That's not an exaggeration.

When Blaseball dropped in July 2020, I was reeling from the psychological horror of people dying of COVID. My writing had fallen off a cliff, and while working from home was nice, I wasn't well. What I found in Blaseball was an amazing community, one that constantly left me (and still leaves me) in awe of their talent and skills. All of the art and writing and music and tools and unionizing workshops and fundraisers was an achievement of an incredibly passionate fan base. Something about the cultural event of Blaseball drove people to feverishly create, and we're richer for it.

I found the best community I've ever been a part of. I made some incredible friends, some incredible memories, and, of course, did some pretty good writing myself. I poured my heart and soul into fan fiction in a way I never had before. My friends and I collaborated on a horror AU project that we're very proud of. I contributed to a zine art book for the first time ever.

I learned more about writing that I ever have. In Blaseball, because the seasons happened every week, games happening once an hour, you had to be quick to get your story out, or your blorbo might die in the meantime (or worse). The main character of my first fic died two days after I published it. I learned that perfect is the enemy of good, and how to write quickly. I wrote a book, my own Blaseball-like for my Blaseball OC, because he deserved his own story.

And one of the most unexpected things: I joined a softball league. I'm not great, I know that I run like a dump truck, but I can Talk Spit and Get Hits, and I'm there to have fun. I haven't played organized sports in 25 years. And I don't think I would have if it weren't for Blaseball.

Yesterday, while sifting through my fics to answer questions on my Blaseball Tumblr, I realized we'd never see a new player step up to the plate again. We'd never see a name on the screen and wonder, as a team, who they were, what they were like. We'd never have a lore jam again, never draw fan art of a brand new player again. It aches, the feeling of my community slowly atrophying. It may not be right now -- so many of us plan on keeping the name alive -- but, to quote The Garages, "Someday, they'll all leave you."

There's a whole other discussion about how the Internet is undergoing something of an apocalypse right now, with Twitter and Reddit imploding, and the possibility of all of that knowledge going away. Blaseball will suffer the same fate. But for now, I don't plan on quitting it. I have too many stories to tell, we all do. I'm not done loving these players yet, I'm done listening to the Garages or talking to my friends about The Salt, or spit posting in side servers. I'm not ready to say goodbye yet. We still have to find out what the Blaseball Undertale is going to be.

We Are All Love Blaseball. Many Teams, One League. No Gods, Just Blaseball Forever. The Commissioner Did A Great Job. And, always, Be Gross, Be Kind.

Note: Song title from Morning is Coming off of The Garages' album, Discipline. The full lyrics go:

Buy ourselves a getaway
A quick escape from everything
And maybe there will come a day
Where I’ll get the chance to
Make all the plans and you’ll
Run down the streets in light
While the sunshine isn’t hidden behind
Any clouds and the moon
Glows at night like it’s supposed to
And you wake up each morning
Not scared of the day to come

#blaseball #kapsulo