Just something I thought was awesome for reals …
“Low moments in recent sports poetry could simply double as a brief survey of Rick Reilly’s stabs at sports poetry.” nyr.kr/167jEQb
— Caitlin Kelly (@atotalmonet) May 13, 2013
If you don’t know (or even if you do), Rick Reilly is a sportswriter. Once upon a time, when I was on a trajectory that led to me spending six less-than-joyous months as a ESPN production assistant trainee, with the ultimate goal of becoming a sportscaster, I greatly admired him. In fact, my senior year at Notre Dame (2001–2002), I had the column he wrote after 9/11 taped on my wall all year. That’s how good he was.
These days? Not so much.
This piece from The New Yorker’s Ian Crouch (@iancrouch)—which came into my timeline via Caitlin Kelly (@atotalmonet), one of his New Yorker colleagues and someone I’ve enjoyed following on Twitter for a while now—is an articulate and fair example of why. You can read it by clicking in the tweet or right about here.
Ian and Caitlin split the point for today’s Internet Win, and I wish to thank both of them for allowing me to class up this joint by linking to something from The New Yorker.