Some things are just too good to be true.

For four years Grantland seemed to defy this maxim. However, last Friday, months after its founder and creative force was ousted and the site hovered somewhere between no-man’s land and purgatory, ESPN pulled the plug on its destination for sports-meets-pop culture-meets-actually great writing. For Grantland, the clock had finally, and somewhat excruciatingly, ticked down to zero.

In fact, in the interest of full transparency, I will pull back the curtain and reveal an email I sent to the editors of Grantland in March of 2013, an email simply and dully titled “Contribution Inquiry” (I did not receive a response, and perhaps the generic and forgettable lede was a reason why. No hard feelings, of course!). While it was not successful in securing me an immediate full-time position with the site, I think it encapsulates nicely what I found so novel and thrilling about Grantland:

Hi there! Apologies for the cold emailing, but I wanted to inquire about contributing to Grantland. I imagine there are more proper channels, but I reckoned I’d try this hopefully more direct approach. I’ve been an ardent fan of Grantland since its launch (and prior too, in fact, when I heard about its impending launch last year). It offers what I truly love in online journalism, which is a genuine mixture of all things interesting – pop culture, Hollywood, sports, celebrities, and everything in between – and the articles are not just a regurgitation of what’s already been posted a dozen times elsewhere. It’s not always easy to find an original take, but I always strive to do so, and your work consistently succeeds at it.

[I won’t bore you with the rest of the email, which listed my (limited) credits and included a few writing samples, BUT I will pat myself on the back and note that one of the examples I sent along was an overly optimistic preview of the 2012 Mets which both touted Daniel Murphy’s potential contributions as the everyday 2nd baseman AND lauded then maligned-now redeemed former GM Omar Minaya’s draft history, two sentiments which were proven correct by this years’ (soul-crushing) post-season. So I was right, just four years premature.]

Mad Max-like battered wasteland of sponsored content and “14 Photos of the Lunar Eclipse Only 90s Kids Will Get,” Grantland was an oasis. Unlike so many other online destinations, Grantland felt like it like was aiming for something more, for something better. It’s easy to get lazy and complacent, and just do enough. Just rank the 10 Best Snick Cameos and call it a day. That’s usually enough, if not too much. But you could feel that the Grantland columnists and contributors, no doubt led by Bill Simmons, aspired for something special, something they were passionate about, something of which to be proud. And although there were bumps and bruises along the away, and although the In the time since Grantland’s debut the world of pop-culture criticism, and, specifically, television recaps – a relatively recent concept that served as a major function of my blog – has devolved, for the most part, into rote, paint-by-numbers plot summaries and/or a compilation of GIFs and unearned derision, along with misdemeanor assault on the English language. But, like Dorian Gray, as television criticism across the board has seemed to grow more empty and insipid, somehow reaching below Terra firma for the lowest hanging fruit, Grantland remained resolute and continued to present actual commentary and analysis, a panacea to the glorified TV Guide-synopses found so often elsewhere. In ax-like battered wasteland of sponsored content and “14 Photos of the Lunar Eclipse Only 90s Kids Will Get,” Grantland was an oasis. Unlike so many other online destinations, Grantland felt like it like was aiming for something more, for something better. It’s easy to get lazy and complacent, and just do enough. Just rank the 10 Best Snick Cameos and call it a day. That’s usually enough, if not too much. But you could feel that the Grantland columnists and contributors, no doubt led by Bill Simmons, aspired for something special, something they wereabout, something of which to be proud. And although there were bumps and bruises along the away, and although the homepage is now a tombstone , Grantland, in that way, was an unquestioned success, a triumph.

Sadly, the current picture of online journalism is a cluster (and, often, clusterfuck) of content farms, but Grantland stood out as a content kibbutz, a place where good writers worked together for the good of the whole, instead of slashing and burning, reaping and sowing and ravaging the soil until it’s barren and dry. If other farms are mass-producing GMO corn, Grantland was slowly, lovingly, growing and cultivating organic watermelon radishes (which, full disclosure, I don’t like very much, but it is a beautiful fruit). And, if we’re being honest, they were probably running the operation at a loss. Developing less product, paying the growers more and giving away the harvest for free, it’s not a very profitable model, and one that perhaps proved untenable. But it also proved admirable, and absolutely worth it. It just didn’t make good fiscal – or cultural – sense to conglomerate overlords ESPN Inc.

We very well might look back on Grantland as the web’s version of the ’27 Yankees , a Murderers

This is not a eulogy for good writing. If you want to make the argument that journalism is dead, that’s fine, and I’m sure there are many great articles out there discussing just that. Nor is this is a hagiography of Bill Simmons; although, if you wanted to write that article, it would not be without merit. This is a dirge for a shooting star, a white whale, a collection of voices and talent and vision that we might not see again in this ever changing, ever precarious landscape. It’s a tribute to an idea that was an inspiration, and a thank you to a place that stood as the gold standard in longform pop culture and sports journalism, offering what seemed like a limitless (and word-limitless ) amount of first-class content. This is not to say that you will no longer be able to find great, passionate, important writing, criticism and commentary on the web. Not at all. You’re just going to have a search a little for harder for it.

by Seth Keim

Seth is the founder of Jumped the Snark , but does some of his best work in 140 characters or less. He lives in Brooklyn and is currently on season 6 of Frasier.