Do not subscribe to my Substack
Even if you like sports and culture, here are the reasons you should skip this....
In this post;
Reasons not to follow a Graphic Artist on Substack
Pictures of Cricket and Footy Prints
Why sport art and marketing it can suck
Lashings of self-deprication
Like a lot of creative types, I work a job and make stuff when I can. It’s usually posters and artworks about sports and the odd deep dive into art direction. It’s all great fun so I write about it.
[If you need an explainer of what sort of stuff I do you can take a look at this short post]
I am not “building an amazing community” or selling exclusive access. You won’t miss out on paywalled posts or the chance for a video call. But I do need to let people know I exist so I can keep my business alive; hence this Susbstack.
In this economy there’s a pressure to be constantly hustling; dancing on Instagram, having a TikTok account in your 40s and generally plugging what you do like Don King on Pension Day. It’s a total drag.
You probably hate getting sold to as much as creatives hate selling. Here’s why you should forego subscribing to this publication.
1. Everyone is asking you to subscribe to something already
Seriously, the subscription model thing has everyone down. Tesla are offering driverless parking as an ongoing subscription rather than something you pay for once. Removing Amazon Prime takes a degree in Computer Science.
Personal information is mined out of all of us at an alarming rate for incredibly little benefit.
There’s data breaches constantly and the information you handed over ends up for sale on the dark web.
If you can’t trust banks and healthcare funds to protect your data, a collage artist from Brunswick is a true leap of faith.
We all need a new subscription in the same way we need another Star Wars film.
Still here?
Here’s what you will get from Field Notes;
Semi-regular articles about sport as culture
Occasional studio notes about a commission or project
Deep dives on art direction in sports
2. My viewpoint does not matter
Let’s face it; if you follow Australian sports like any Australian, you’ll have probably used the prefix ‘Look, what they should do…’ before offering a solution to the ruck injury problem, The A-League and every selection of every Aussie Cricket side.
My opinion won’t sway yours. Your mind is most likely made up and you are probably looking for confirmation bias. You’ll probably get cranky with my explorations of a game’s cultural significance and have a go at me in the comments section (which I don’t have).
My content is cultural critiques on colour schemes for heritage round uniforms and essays on obscure and weird cricket trophies.
You could tune in for this or you could instead, settle in for a well-earned nap or guilt-free doomscroll.
3. I am not really a writer
I do some work for two blokes who are the best in the business and get to bask in some of their reflected glory, but I’m years behind them in terms of sports writing experience.
I have absolutely no professional credibility when it comes to sports writing, no mega platform to make this go mega viral and am selling no products of real utility.
This Substack won’t tell you who’s going to win and why or fill you with confidence in constructing a multi.
You’ll be indulging the creative ramblings of a niche creative working to shoehorn his way to relevance. All this in an industry whose contributions to style and culture include doing a shoey, grown men wearing footy jumpers over shirts and asking if a team of professionals has in fact ‘come to play’.
4. It’s Substack
Substacks are like arseholes; everyone has one (now) and nobody seems to think that theirs stinks.
I’ve got a real zeal for exploring my passions but this will not change the world. This Substack is not essential reading and I have no intention to charge for it, ever.
Sure, the fact that these are ‘newsletters’ gives the whole thing an air of gravitas and culture, but the barrier to entry is so low that anyone can start one.
Reading beyond the second paragraph of any articles posted here should confirm this.
Also the grift on this platform is real and sly, non-paying stacks will deliver great how to content laden with sign up offers as a kicker at the end.
The Linkedinish pump-up posts and self-congratulations at skyrocketing subscriber counts truly is the sound of one hand clapping.
5. Either way, you’ll lose
So, if you’ve decided to ignore the warnings I’ve listed, and you’ve decided to push on you could be in for disappointment.
Creatives that publish content like this can often take a downward turn after a strong start. The paradox being that the thing you get a following for makes you too busy to do that thing.
If this clickbaity content marketing actually works, then my studio will become busy (I hope).
A busy studio means less carefully prepared and considered sports as culture arty musings and more ‘got this in stock. Don’t miss out’ emails.
We’ve all seen influencers that blow up and get a team of producers to help them only to lose their mojo.
This is your chance to save your inbox from this flagrant content marketing.
6. Nobody really cares
I’ve been marketing and selling this studio since the pandemic and I’ve realised this stone-cold fact.
You can find all sorts of hustle-bro, rise-and-grind type discussion around this notion; most people don’t spend any time thinking about you and your business.
It’s the most freeing thing that you can know as a solo operator because it allows you to have a crack.
People are caring, absolutely, but this Substack will not change your life.
You can save your attention for important things like income tax or booking a trip to the dentist.
7. A lot of sports art is pretty bad
On this substack Football Record covers will take a beatdown and I’ll go deep on Grand Final Entertainment.
Sport can talk to us about the game of life in such immediate and complex ways. The way that we commemorate it deserves attention and refinement.
There’s genuinely creative and fascinating people within sports and their stories are often poorly told. A bit of care will bring their stories to life.
Writing here is the most fulfilling way that I can talk about my studio and passions without feeling like a Wildlife Society Koala at Palmer United Party meeting.
I might be patting myself on the back for a signature work on the cultural significance of the 84 Winter Games posters.
But you can still breeze right past the subscribe button and get on with your day.
If this is your introduction to Fisher Classics: it’s a creative studio that treats sport as culture.
You don’t need to subscribe, but you’re welcome to follow along here.
And if you feel like a squiz, the work lives on the site.
Emails always open.