So I spent yesterday afternoon driving around Nashville with Catherine Mayhew, the woman who kindly hired me out of college to write for The Tennessean. And it really got me thinking: Without Catherine bringing me to the real world, my career wouldn’t have gone so (relatively) swimmingly. There have been
Dear Tennessean: I used to write for you. This was back in the mid-1990s, when you had standards. Remember? Editors edited. Writers wrote. You’d refuse copy were it not up to snuff. That was a long time ago. In today’s newspaper, you allowed an absolute asshole to write an absolute
He spent nearly a quarter century writing (beautifully) for a newspaper. Then, one day, he was summoned by human resources and told “we won’t be going forward with you.” It was the greatest relief of his life.
Earlier tonight we drove out to the LA Count Fair, which is one of my all-time favorite events. While walking up and down, here and there, I found myself behind a kid whose pants were practically dragging down to his shoes. They were ludicrously big and ludicrously low, and I
My son Emmett is 9. He’s a good athlete. Not great, not awful. Loves strategy, loves defense, plays a different sport every season, has absolutely zero interest in one day becoming a Yankee or Knick or Ram. He’s simply a good-natured kid who enjoys the diversity of events brought forth
Back when I was a kid, growing up on the mean streets of Mahopac, N.Y., I had two life goals: To write for Sports Illustrated. To become president of the United States. Because I was young and a bit naive, I believed both accomplishments would ultimately be fulfilled. The first
Joe Ripp is the exiting CEO of Time Inc. You’ve probably never heard of Joe Ripp, because he’s pretty much been an across-the-board failure at his job. He’s presided over a once-mighty media empire, and did little (nothing?) to help its products regain their footing. Anyhow, ol’ Joe signed a
In case you missed it, earlier tonight a writer named Kurt Eichenwald Tweeted the following: Then, quickly, he deleted it. To be clear, I am not saying Donald Trump was institutionalized in a mental hospital for a nervous breakdown in 1990. However, I am also not saying Donald Trump was
The finest Jewish quarterback since Sid Luckman can tell you all about emerging from Dartmouth, replacing Dan Marino and singing away at his Bar Mitzvah. Just no questions about the Miracle at the Meadowlands. Please.
My son is named Emmett. He turns 10 next month. He is not the next Mike Trout. I know this because Emmett is, at best, a slightly above average athlete. Actually, if I’m being honest, he’s average. He runs well. He throws OK. He plays terrific defense in basketball, but