Byline: JOHN CLAY
It would be accurate to say that as a younger man I worshiped at the narrow spine of Sports Illustrated.
On weekends, my grandmother, the librarian at Paris High School in Kentucky, would faithfully bring the latest copy of the magazine home -- OK, so maybe not the annual swimsuit issue -- so that I could absorb it on Sunday visits, at least until my family began a home subscription.
Much of what I first knew about sportswriting came from reading the popping prose of Curry Kirkpatrick, the insightful features of Frank Deford, the mischievous ramblings of Dan Jenkins, among others.
Given that background, Michael …
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