SHAKE YOUR MONEYMAKER: Portnoy would like to quash rumors that he’s a trust-fund publisher. “There’s never been any pennies in this besides mine,” he says. “I mean, I’m still in debt from starting [the paper]. If I were a rich kid with lots of money, I’d be playing golf.” |
More than meets the eye
A fair assessment, but incomplete. There’s a more subtle ingredient to the paper’s success — namely, the delicate balance Barstool strikes between self-abasement and righteous indignation. To get a sense of what I’m talking about, first consider Portnoy’s March 14 posting (under the handle ElPresidente) at Barstool’s blog, Random Thoughts.Happy Steak + BJ Day! . . . [I] just found out that today is Steak and BJ Day! Now I’d never heard of this holiday before a couple a minutes ago when somebody forwarded me this link, but if it has a website than it has got to be legit. Therefore, in honor of the holiday, I put together my perfect Steak and BJ day. Here are my top three combo’s. Combo #1 Steak — Oak Room BJ — Scarlett Johansson (now keep in mind while I love Scarlett, she wouldn’t be the first person I’d pick to sleep with. We’re just simply talking BJ’s here and I think she’d be great at it. . . .
Two things stand out here: the clunky prose (by his own admission, Portnoy hates writing) and the near-total lack of ironic detachment. In Maxim, say, the writing would be sharper and the tone more self-deprecating. While there’s an early whiff of irony — “if it has a website than it has got to be legit” — it’s short-lived; soon, Portnoy is just musing in earnest about Scarlett Johansson’s fellatio skills and what local steak would best accompany them.
Contrast that with “How Barstool is Saving the World,” a manifesto Jerry Thornton penned for the most recent issue. This work deserves a full reading, but here’s a taste:
Any time you get your news from a non-traditional source, you’re fighting the power. . . We’re the Visigoths sacking Rome. We’re Les Miserables storming the Bastille with torches and pitchforks. We’re the farmers and craftsmen chasing the British out of Boston on March 17th so someday government workers in Suffolk County can get St. Patrick’s Day off. We’re the labor pool at the Pits Bessemer Steel Works beating the Pinkertons at a staring contest. We’re the nameless rabble that for far too long have let a privileged, elitist few have all the power until we finally got cheesed off enough to climb off the damned couch and get control of things for ourselves.
After calling Boston “the world’s leading manufacturer and distributor of Institutional Arrogance” — and offering the Globe sports section as Exhibit A — Thornton turns his attention to Boston College. A few days earlier, the Herald cover story detailed the ruckus that ensued when a law student there posed for Barstool’s cover. Here’s Thornton’s take on the hubbub:
When BC Law student Adrienne Reynolds had the presence of mind to make a rational, mature decision to appear in Barstool wearing (oh the horror) a bikini and a Superfans t-shirt, the entire BC Law student body lapsed into apoplexy. “There’s a grown woman posing in beach attire! Help us! Now our careers are threatened, our lives are ruined, and we’ll never go on to help ease our nation’s lawyer shortage!” Why the bizarre overreaction? Because BC is another institution in this town that’s used to getting its ass kissed. And they’ve yet to catch on that there’s a paper in town other than “The Heights.” One run by the common man. And the common man likes beautiful girls in bikinis.
Inspired stuff, that. Sure, Thornton’s populist claims are overblown, but it’s that overheated quality — along with allusiveness and understated humor and simple writing — that makes them so fun to read. What’s more, major parts of his critique are on target. Boston is an arrogant city, and BC does get its ass kissed inordinately; it’s our very own Notre Dame. And, as with Portnoy’s Steak & BJ Day reportage, you can’t really tell when Thornton’s joking and when he isn’t.
The road ahead
So how big could Barstool get, exactly? As Portnoy tells it, the paper’s growth and slow climb to profitability have happened almost organically: the paper’s business plan, he says, is “still a joke, to a degree.” (Case in point: the Cover Model of the Year party, which drew 1000 people, was a free event.) A more disciplined approach might lead to increased circulation and bigger profits — which, in turn, could allow Barstool to hire writers full-time, leading to even better content. When we discussed Barstool’s future, though, Portnoy suggested that he’d rather sell to a deep-pocketed buyer than grow a local empire. “I turn 30 shortly, so that’s probably going to be a depressing time,” he said. “It’s like, I have this debt. I have nothing except this paper, which I don’t know what it’s worth. So that’s like the million-dollar question right now.” Of course, this begs a follow-up question — namely, whether an outside investor would be able to maintain the un-self-consciousness that gives Barstool much of its charm.
