I grew up watching Tuesday night college baseball games that nobody would talk about the next morning. Not because they weren't worth watching — a kid from a mid-major program working a two-seam fastball he taught himself off YouTube deserves coverage as much as anyone on ESPN — but because no platform thought the audience was large enough to justify it. The audience was always there. It just never had anywhere to go.

I studied international systems at UT Austin — how power structures decide who gets seen and who gets ignored. That framework maps onto sports media with uncomfortable precision: the same forces that determine which countries get a seat at the table determine which programs get a broadcast window, which athletes get scouted, and which markets get written off. A graduate degree in entertainment business sharpened the conviction: this gap isn't editorial. It's structural. And structural problems need someone willing to build what closes them.

BSI is that build. Every data pipeline, every article, every line of code — written and maintained by one person. Not out of stubbornness, but because the thing I wanted didn't exist and nobody with a content team and a VC check was going to make it for the fans I had in mind. Five sports, college and pro. Live scores from multiple verified sources. Analytics deeper than a box score. A Wednesday night game between Rice and Sam Houston covered with the same rigor as a Saturday showcase between Tennessee and LSU — because that's the standard, not the exception.

The name comes from a dachshund. My first baseball team in Bartlett, Texas was the Blaze — when my family got a dog, I named him after it. Years later, when I needed a name for what I'd been building since I first noticed the gap, Blaze was already there. The people who end up here tend to arrive the same way — they'd been looking for coverage like this. They just didn't know someone was building it.