These are some of my favorite clips that I’ve written during my career. Self-idolatry to follow.
New York Times clips (2008-present) – The pride and joy of my sports writing career. If I never work another day in sports journalism, I’ll always be content because of my work in the New York Times.
With an Iron Will, He Finds a Way (NY Times – 2/29/08) – My favorite piece in the New York Times anthology. This story went around the world, and it’s a little hard to fathom how many people read it. It was the dominant image on the sports front in the New York edition that day.
Swainsboro’s Webb has found a way out of a tough childhood (Augusta Chronicle -2/4/04) – This might be the best story I’ve ever written (though I think I liked it more in 2004 than I do today).
Palmer follows closely in brother’s footsteps (LA Times – 6/16/08) – This story took me like a month to write. Seriously. It was ridiculous.
Kentucky-North Carolina basketball column (CBSSports.com – 12/5/09) – The thing that really got me was how loud Rupp Arena was that day. Never heard anything like it in my previous visits.
Kelly closes one chapter of life, kick-starts another (CBSSports.com – 12/11/09) – I wanted to go to South Bend, Ind., for two reasons. One was to cover the Brian-Kelly-to-Notre-Dame presser; the other was to see the hallowed campus of Notre Dame. It was nearly 10 hours of driving round trip, but I got a pretty good story out of it. Oh, and Touchdown Jesus was pretty cool.
Cincinnati Punchline (Soapbox Media – 5/19/09) – I eventually want to write a book about standup comedy. I thought it’d be cool to travel to an out of town gig with a comic and tell his story. It was.
Title Town No More (Cincy Magazine – Dec. 2008/Jan. 2009) – With one exception, I really liked this story, which melded sports and business together pretty well. The editing was very helpful, and I thought we turned out a pretty strong story. My only regret was that the editors chopped off the end of my prose. Here it is without further ado:
With those sobering words, look straight ahead into Kentucky. In front of you, the river flows by, the same as it did before the Bengals and the Reds existed, the same as it will after. The river doesn’t care about its surroundings. Maybe you shouldn’t either.
Yet tomorrow, the sun will rise in the east and its rays will touch Great American Ball Park and maybe the Reds as well. The stadium to the west, though, remains lost in darkness. God – and maybe Mike Brown – only knows if the Bengals ever will find their way back into the light.