The Best American Sports Writing 2013
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Table of Contents
Copyright
Foreword
Introduction
The Blind Faith of the One-Eyed Matador
The Most Amazing Bowling Story Ever
The Legacy of Wes Leonard
Mourning Glory
The Gym at Third and Ross
Arrowhead Anxiety
End Game
It’s Not About the Lab Rats
Eddie Is Gone
The Game of His Life
The Making of “Homer at the Bat,” the Episode That Conquered Prime Time 20 Years Ago Tonight
At Swim, Two Girls: A Memoir
At the Corner of Love and Basketball
Special Team
The Strongest Man in the World
Caballo Blanco’s Last Run
Marathon Man
Redemption of the Running Man
Running
Goal to Go
Fear the Bird
Why Don’t More Athletes Take a Stand?
Did Football Kill Austin Trenum?
Urban Meyer Will Be Home for Dinner
The NFL’s Secret Drug Problem
Waiting for Goodell
Contributors’ Notes
Notable Sports Writing of 2012
About the Editor
Copyright © 2013 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company
Introduction copyright © 2013 by J. R. Moehringer
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
The Best American Series® is a registered trademark of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. The Best American Sports Writing™ is a trademark of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is available.
ISSN 1056-8034
ISBN 978-0-547-88460-8
eISBN 978-0-547-88457-8
v1.1013
“Arrowhead Anxiety” by Kent Babb. First published in the Kansas City Star, January 14, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Kent Babb. Reprinted by permission of Kent Babb.
“Mourning Glory” by Chris Ballard. First published in Sports Illustrated, October 22, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Time Inc. Reprinted by permission.
“Caballo Blanco’s Last Run” by Barry Bearak. From “The Run of His Life,” the New York Times, May 21, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by the New York Times. All rights reserved. Used by permission and protected by the copyright laws of the United States. The printing, copying, redistribution, or retransmission of this content without express written permission is prohibited.
“The Strongest Man in the World” by Burkhard Bilger. First published in The New Yorker, July 23, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Burkhard Bilger. Reprinted by permission of Burkhard Bilger.
“It’s Not About the Lab Rats” by Bill Gifford. First published in Outside, February 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Bill Gifford. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“At the Corner of Love and Basketball” by Allison Glock. First published in ESPN: The Magazine, June 11, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by ESPN: The Magazine, LLC. Reprinted by permission of ESPN, Inc.
“Did Football Kill Austin Trenum?” by Patrick Hruby. First published in Washingtonian, August 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Patrick Hruby. Reprinted by permission of Patrick Hruby.
“Redemption of the Running Man” by Dan Koeppel. First published in Runner’s World, August 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Dan Koeppel. Reprinted by permission of Dan Koeppel.
“The Legacy of Wes Leonard” by Thomas Lake. First published in Sports Illustrated, February 20, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Time Inc. Reprinted by permission.
“The Gym at Third and Ross” by Bill Littlefield. First published in Onlyagame.wbur.org, April 13, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Bill Littlefield. Reprinted by permission of Bill Littlefield.
“Waiting for Goodell” by Jeff MacGregor. First published in ESPN.com, September 19, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by ESPN Internet Ventures. Reprinted by permission of ESPN, Inc.
“The Making of ‘Homer at the Bat,’ the Episode That Conquered Prime Time 20 Years Ago Tonight” by Erik Malinowski. First published in Deadspin.com, February 20, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Gawker Media, LLC. Reprinted by permission of Gawker Media, LLC.
“The Most Amazing Bowling Story Ever” by Michael J. Mooney. First published in D Magazine, July 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Magazine Limited Partners LP. Reprinted by permission of D Magazine.
“Eddie Is Gone” by Nicole Pasulka. First published in the Believer, September 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Nicole Pasulka. Reprinted by permission of Nicole Pasulka.
“At Swim, Two Girls: A Memoir” by Bridget Quinn. First published in Narrativemagazine.com, Spring 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Bridget Quinn. Reprinted by permission of Bridget Quinn.
“Special Team” by Rick Reilly. First published in ESPN.com, November 1, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by ESPN Internet Ventures. Reprinted by permission of ESPN, Inc.
“Running” by Cinthia Ritchie. First published in Sport Literate, Mostly Baseball 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Cinthia Ritchie. Reprinted by permission of Cinthia Ritchie.
“The Blind Faith of the One-Eyed Matador” by Karen Russell. First published in GQ, October 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Karen Russell. Reprinted by permission of Denise Shannon Literary Agency, Inc.
“End Game” by Jason Schwartz. First published in Boston Magazine, August 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Metro Corp. Reprinted by permission of Metro Corp.
“The Game of His Life” by Jonathan Segura. First published in GQ, June 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Jonathan Segura. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Goal to Go” by Charles Siebert. From the New York Times Magazine, November 25, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by the New York Times. All rights reserved. Used by permission and protected by the copyright laws of the United States. The printing, copying, redistribution, or retransmission of this content without express written permission is prohibited.
“Fear the Bird” by David Simon. First published in Sports Illustrated, October 1, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Time Inc. Reprinted by permission.
“Marathon Man” by Mark Singer. First published in The New Yorker, August 6, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Mark Singer. Reprinted by permission of The New Yorker.
“Why Don’t More Athletes Take a Stand?” by Gary Smith. First published in Sports Illustrated, July 9, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Time Inc. Reprinted by permission.
“The NFL’s Secret Drug Problem” by Paul Solotaroff. First published in Men’s Journal, November 2012. Copyright © 2012 by Paul Solotaroff. Reprinted by permission of Paul Solotaroff.
“Urban Meyer Will Be Home for Dinner” by Wright Thompson. First published in ESPN: The Magazine, August 6, 2012. Copyright © 2012 by ESPN Internet Ventures. Reprinted by permission of ESPN, Inc.
Foreword
I AM SITTING in a bar i
n Burlington, Vermont, drinking Guinness with a man whose work I have read but who I have never met before, hoping he’ll say things I agree with about a subject I love, which may provide a way to write the foreword to a book a lot of people care deeply about. To distract myself from the barmaid who looks right through us and from the sun that shines too bright through the nearby window, I listen closely and file this away for future reference; another Best American Sports Writing foreword starts to write itself in my head.
This actually happened, and I was reminded as I sat in that bar how the best part of doing a book like this is not only the words, or the stories, but the short and intense friendships that sometimes develop while talking with another writer. Oh, I remember BASW stories, as I am certain the close reader has realized by now. (The above lede is an homage to the start of J. R. Moehringer’s remarkable “Resurrecting the Champ” from BASW 1998.) Really, however, what I remember most are the people and the moments of recognition we discover in others when we realize our own ideas are not alone, but reside in stories shared, then recalled later and twisted and shaped to fit.
Sports is just a path for this, and notice that I just wrote “a” path, not “the” path. And it is certainly not “the only” path. For as the sportswriter above said to me, “Who really cares about sports? This is just a way for us to write about things we really care about.” I thoroughly agree.
It struck me that this is the difference so often here in these pages. In this collection of writing about sports, there is hardly a single writer who, if pressed, would say he or she is “only” writing about sports. The kind of writing that was once “only” writing about sports filled thousands of newspapers every day. That doesn’t happen much anymore, because now readers ask for more; outcomes and easy answers are often not enough, and that includes writing that is only about sports. That is, I think, one reason that readers have undeniably fled from the kind of writing that once first came to mind whenever anyone mentioned the word “sportswriting.” But “sports writing,” as we have always termed it in the title of this book? That is something else, and over the 23 years I have been doing the work of this series, if there is one thing I have noticed, it is that this book is more about people and what concerns us—love, death, desire, labor, and loss—than about the simple results of a game or competition. Wins and losses are the least important part of the equation—and the standings are often the worst measure of anything. It really is how you play the game . . . and how you think about it, and how you feel about that.
These are the subjects that draw writers to the keyboard, and readers to the page, and it has been that way since the beginning, whether the words have been crafted from ink or electronics, whether the page is made of papyrus or wood pulp or glass. The amazing thing is not how much the technology has changed over the years, but how much the relationship between the reader, the writer, and the word has not changed much at all. Increasingly there is a realization in this new era of reading on tablets and phones, with embedded links and GIFs and other technologies not yet imagined, that although the medium of communication has changed, little else has. For much of the last year I have served as an editor for a web page (SBNation.com/Longform), working closely with writers on the same kind of stories that appear in these pages, and the writer’s work and responsibility is the same now as ever—something I have found gratifying beyond measure. Getting deep in the weeds of a story and breaking it down to sound? There is nothing better and nothing more important.
After a period of uncertainty and the misguided belief that the only writing that “worked” anymore was 140 characters or less, more recently readers have been returning to longer forms in droves, and the wise are beginning to realize that the web native was first a word native, and that the former is only a subset of the latter. Longer journalism—call it longform—has been enjoying something of a renaissance as the desire to read has proven unstoppable. While “the book” is still entering this new age of reading in fits and starts—for the adjustment period is a bit longer and the investment more costly—longform journalism and its readers have seamlessly embraced the future and filled that gap. Regardless of the format or medium, people are reading more than ever. In a world built around the notion of page views, this volume alone will probably collect eight or 10 million and occupy each reader for many, many hours—think about that for a moment. For all the worry over the future of writing and publishing, the need to read and to experience the things we really care about through the words of others is fundamental to our experience, as essential now as ever.
Each year I read every issue of hundreds of sports and general- interest magazines in search of writing that might merit inclusion in The Best American Sports Writing. I also write or email the editors of many hundreds of newspapers and magazines and request submissions, and I send email notices to hundreds of readers and writers whose addresses I have accumulated over the years. I search for writing all over the Internet and make regular stops at online sources like Sportsdesk.org, Gangrey.com, Byliner.com, Longreads.com, Longform.org, TheFeature.net, and other sites where notable sports writing is presented or discussed. What these sources turn up is still less than satisfactory, so each year I also encourage everyone—readers and writers, friends and family, enemies and editors—to send me stories they believe should appear in this volume. Writers, in particular, are encouraged to submit—do not shy away from sending me either your own work or the work of others for consideration.
All submissions to the upcoming edition must be made according to the following criteria. Each story
must be column-length or longer.
must have been published in 2013.
must not be a reprint or book excerpt.
must be published in the United States or Canada.
must be received by February 1, 2014.
All submissions from either print or online publications must be made in hard copy and should include the name of the author, the date of publication, and the publication name and address. Photocopies, tear sheets, or clean copies are fine. Readable reductions to 8½-by-11 are preferred. Newspaper submissions should be a photocopy of the hard copy as originally published—not a printout. Since newsprint can suffer in transit, newspaper stories are best copied and made legible. If the story also appeared online, inclusion of the appropriate URL is often helpful. While there is no limit to the number of submissions either an individual or a publication may make, please use common sense. Because of the volume of material I receive, no submissions can be returned or acknowledged, and it is inappropriate for me to comment on or critique any submission. Publications that want to be absolutely certain their contributions are considered are advised to provide a complimentary subscription to the address listed below. Those that already do so should extend the subscription for another year.
All submissions must be made by U.S. mail—weather conditions in midwinter here at BASW headquarters mean I often cannot receive submissions sent by UPS or FedEx. Electronic submissions by any means—by email or Twitter—or URLs or PDFs or documents of any kind are not acceptable; please submit hard-copy printouts only. The February 1 deadline is real and work received after that date will not be considered.
Please submit either an original or a clear paper copy of each story, including publication name, author, and date the story appeared, to:
Glenn Stout
PO Box 549
Alburgh, VT 05440
Those with questions or comments may contact me at basweditor@yahoo.com. Copies of previous editions of this book can be ordered through most bookstores or online book dealers. An index of stories that have appeared in this series can be found at my website, glennstout.net, as can full instructions on how to submit a story. For updated information, readers and writers are also encouraged to join the Best American Sports Writing group on Facebook or to follow me on Twitter @GlennStout.
Thanks again go out to everyone at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt who supports this book, to gues
t editor J. R. Moehringer, and to Siobhan and Saorla, who remind me to keep everything neatly stacked. Each year I am gratified to learn how much this book means to the writers who have graced its pages. Serving you is an ongoing privilege.
GLENN STOUT
Alburgh, Vermont
Introduction
I WAS A FLEDGLING REPORTER in Denver, and the fledgling Colorado Rockies were just entering their first season. At the start of spring training the team looked over its talent-thin roster and sent out a desperate announcement, an unprecedented cry for help. Open tryouts. Come one, come all.
They came. From every corner of America, by every kind of vehicle (cars, buses, skateboards, motorcycles with sidecars), they descended just after dawn on a public park outside Tucson. Fat guys, skinny guys, old guys, drunk guys, guys limping like Fred Sanford—they were all so different, but they all had one thing in common. They’d always wanted to play in the majors, and they saw this as their last, best hope, their American Idol moment.
None had a shot. But a few at least had some justification (decent physique, expensive gear) for being there. I carved one out of this herd, a lanky young cowboy type. He told me that he’d driven all night from some small town in some sparsely populated state. I asked why. In a raw early-morning whisper he told me this was his dream, and he and his kid sister had been working hard for months to make it come true.
“You and your sister?”
Sis stepped forward. “Yes, sir. When he throws, I’m the batter. He hums it up there around 90 miles per.”
She was a slip of a thing, thin as a paper straw. Late teens, tops. “He throws full speed?” I said. “With you in the batter’s box?”
“Almost took my head clean off the other day,” she said.