I’ve got to take the next few days away for another project and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to devote time to the site. Maybe in a week or so. For now, here’s the story that ran on SI.com on Tuesday that took me away a few weeks back.
All thanks to Adam Duerson, my old and good friend at Sports Illustrated, whose idea this story was. And I am forever grateful that he entrusted it to me.
When I was a boy, once I realized I wasn’t going to become the heir to Walt Frazier, all I ever really wanted to do was write for Sports Illustrated. More than that, to deserve to write for Sports Illustrated. This is probably as close as I’ve ever come. More than anyone else, I owe a huge debt to Adam and to former SI editor Bob Roe, who hired me at Newsweek and retrained me to write without worrying. And also to Stewart Mandel and Dan Uthman at The Athletic, who threw me a line when I was going under for the final time.
All four of those guys know what a colossal pain in the ass I am. And still they work with me.
I understand why people chase a fat paycheck, I do; this was just always my ultimate goal.