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Celebrate the five-year anniversary of McCovey Chronicles by giving me accolades, money, or both. Preferably both. Also, I like boxes of chocolate. Also, bourbon. You have six more shopping days.

Whoa. Five years. This site has been around for five years.

Note that I'm posting this from six months ago, using the post-scheduling feature because I'm sure that I'll forget about this by January. In between the time I write this and the time this gets published, I might have been hired by, or I might have been let go by SB Nation after those steamy mascot-on-blogger pics come out on TMZ. Oh, Youppi. They moved your team to Washington, but you didn't move out of my heart. But I'll take the chance and write this early.

Here's the first post in the site's history. Note the seven comments, including one of my own. Even better, the next post didn't get a single comment. No Rush talk, no recipe swapping, no fantasy baseball dorks -- just a man and a computer, alone in a forest, writing about Pedro Feliz, and not making a sound.

At least that post reminded me of one of my old white whales, which is in itself a reminder of why I don't get paid to evaluate baseball players for a living.

Thanks to all of you lowly readers, both new and old, for making this place fun enough that I decided to come back almost every freaking day for five years. I mean, if I didn't come back, it's not like they couldn't just find another goofball on Craigslist, but I'd like to think that I add something special with my Alex Smith defending, my attempts to convince everyone that I'm some kind of old-school metalhead, and my cat pictures.

Here's to another five years. And maybe the damn team will make the playoffs in that stretch.