Art
Posted: March 3rd, 2009 | Filed under: Baseball | 39 Comments »
People don’t believe me when I say this … but I never like my columns or stories after I finish them. Never. I see other writers, friends, they finish a piece, and you can see it in their faces, they are really content, they clearly know that what they just wrote is good. I’m kind of jealous: I’ve never had that touchdown dance feeling after writing a story. I’ve never written the final words of anything and thought, “Yeah, now that story kicks some serious butt.”
It’s not like I always think what I wrote is BAD either. Sometimes I do, yes. Most of the time, though, I finish a story, and I just feel spent, and I think: “Well, OK, that was the best I could do.” It’s not a negative feeling — it’s sort of the way you might feel after you put in the final piece of a large puzzle. But I never feel like I just wrote something really good.
Still, now and then, I do get to write a story that I really enjoy telling for personal reasons.
This column about Art Stewart is one of those.
Loading ...
Not even when you wrote “I didn’t need that stew”?
It was a great column that was fun to read, excellent job like always Joe.
Joe, I guess you share a trait with many other creative people (artists, photographers, actors, chefs, etc.) who are never happy with what they create, no matter how much other people tell them the works of art are wonderful. It seems to be true almost without exception, and I can speak from coming from a creative family (Dad is a sculptor, Mom was a concert pianist, brother is a cartoonist, sister is a pastry chef). Just know that many, many people absolutely love your work! Your piece on the Steelers from a Clevelander’s perspective, pre-Super Bowl, was simply fantastic! I forwarded it to all my Steeler loving friends, in no small part because I am also a life-long Browns fan.
You know, Joe, as a former columnist too, I always felt like that when I finished something. My description to people tended to go from “It sucks” to “Well, at least it’s legible.” So frankly, I was more frightened than anything when I finished a piece and thought “TOUCHDOWN!” And I did think that once or twice. It’s just such a strange, freaky feeling, that I sort of doubted those pieces more than the ones I didn’t have any particular feelings about.
Speaking as a remarried widower myself, thanks. That was awesome.
Joe: You are WAY TOO HARD on yourself…Perfectionist, huh?
I liked this story of Art Stewart a great deal but I particularly loved the last sentence. It is SO TRUE in the game/life of baseball…
“All you can do is keep score, chart pitches and make the most of the off days.”
WOW!
Knocked this one out of the park Joe. Fantastic read.
hey i know you weren’t working too hard for compliments with that into, just proud…and rightfully so. similar to The Soul of Baseball…only not. kudos.
great story as always, Joe.
minor nitpick: the phrase “engaged to be married.”
just “engaged” is enough.
it’s obviously “to be married.”
I get the same feeling after I write a really funny quip in the comments section of your blog…
Wait…it’s actually a little more like taking a really big dump.
It’s satisfying, and you’re pleased with yourself…then you look behind you and there’s a gigantic turd staring you right in the face.
Hello, turd.
In truth, Joe, the vast majority of your work in of this caliber. The difference for you, I suspect, is between the stories you really want to tell ‘right’, and those you simply do your usual great job of telling. You throw off great reads like very few people doing journalism. Your personal outliers, like this, or the Buck book, are truly wonderful, truly, but your readers’ perception of that is not the same as yours. I hope that makes sense.
And Thanks.
I feel the same way about everything I write. It can always be better but don’t ever tell yourself you’re not good enough.
Joe:
Joe I forward your work to friends and family a few times a week. You have a knack for nailing a story with humor, fairness, and humility. I enjoy reading every day. I read the Rulon Gardner piece ever few weeks or so. Did you feel good about that one?
Keep up the great work and come to NYC for your 9909 book tour.
D
I liked everything about the article except for Derrick Robinson’s .246/.315/.323/.638 last year.
Considering that most people always sort of wonder about ‘the one that got away,’ it was nice to see someone get another shot.
Very nice. A real-life well-told bachelor story about a genuine person. On the flip side of the culture, however, ABC was selling something else. . . .
Great story.
When I was still a sports writer, it was always great to have an opportunity to interview a baseball lifer. I talked to Salty Parker once, who also raved about Bo Jackson.
Also had an interview with Hub Kittle, who told a number of hilarious stories, almost none of which were printable in a family newspaper.
9/9/09 is just 6/6 away.
Joe, as I said in the comments on the previous post re neologisms, you are way too hard on yourself.
The Art Stewart piece was marvelous; you should be justifiably proud of yourself. But, trust me (and your readers), that wasn’t the first one, nor is it really that unusual for you.
It may have been “jeterate” that brought me here, but it was “The Meaning of Tiger” that closed the deal and made this blog required reading for me every single day. I am saddened when there are no new posts, and ecstatic when there are.
BTW, whenever anyone asks me what’s the big deal about Tiger Woods (given how much I talk about him, I get that question a lot), I always tell them to come here and read “The Meaning of Tiger”. Nobody ever asks me again why I think he’s a big deal, because now they know.
chris @ #8
The phrase “to be married” is an intensifier; it is also the way people speak.
In my days as a full-time book editor — mostly sports, some nostalgia, occasional novel — I came across some excellent writing and some godawful stuff. Although I was confident in my editing abilities and the authors, both good and bad, were happy to put their work in my hands, I couldn’t quite crack it as a writer myself. This puzzled me, as well as being annoying. Then one day, as I was yarning to one of my better authors, I had an epiphany of sorts. This fella was leaning in the doorway telling me some story about a prominent footballer when it struck me that his conversation was virtually identical to the way he wrote. I’d known him for fifteen or more years at that stage and had always enjoyed his company — he was an engaging conversationalist and a great raconteur. And that’s how his writing appeared on the page — the reader was invited to take part in a conversation and hear a well-told tale. The conversation may have consisted of just one side but it never really seemed that way; the reader wasn’t being preached to, wasn’t being asked to alter his opinion on anything, wasn’t being talked down to.
And that’s why Joe’s stuff is so good. His stories are great stories, made better by being well-told, and when his opinions are expressed they are put across the same way a close friend would deliver them. After reading a JoePost, you feel as if you’ve had a conversation with a likeable fellow — which, in a way, you have.
See all this time I thought Joe and I had so much in common until today. Unlike him I always like his columns and stories after he finishes them.
The column on Art was no exception. Fantastic stuff, Joe!
I think we all know that the story is a beautiful one, so I’ll leave it to others to comment on that.
I’m more interesting in how you took the story and turned it into a great article. Beautifully woven, Joe. Adopting Art’s style of storytelling — constantly self-interrupting, then returning to the tale — was a brilliant choice for this piece. The resultant pacing is perfect. The article is grounded in baseball, very much set in Spring Training but also looking back with access to an entire life’s narrative.
Great piece, Joe. This is why I read your blog.
Great stuff Joe. I love basically all of your work, but I can tell why this one felt extra good to you. This is just the sort of thing you seem to have a special appreciation for.
I think I’ve stated before that I’m a Gary Smith fan, but Joe is right up there, especially considering the pace of his output.
But didn’t Joe won National Sportswriter of the Year…uh, one year?
The preceding sentence is ample proof of why I’m not an award winning writer.
Dude’s a scout after all. Just one more example of how your professional life can enhance your personal life, which is also the metaphor at the centre of the column’s construction. That’s one of the reasons this column is so satisfying. Joe, yer such a clevah boy.
I loved your Art Stewart column. Great story and a what a life Art has led. Now concerning your column in todays Star. I really like it when you go over the team as you did today. The one thing that has just baffles me from the moment they brought it up is the whole Teahen at 2B bit. To me 2B and SS are the more difficult and important posistions in the IF. How someone who is an adequate at best 3B is supposed to play 2B without being a disaster in the field is beyond me. Mark will get plenty of time as a 4th outfielder on this team. The Royals will need a quality person in this posistion.
Joe, If you are so completely unable to see that which is so obvious to the rest of us mere mortals……You are blessed and gifted….as in “genius”. Perhaps the curse of genius (or maybe the blessing, eh?) is that you invest so much in what you write that your integrity and humility kick in, freezing your self committed ability to be objective about your own work. Isn’t the mind amamzing?
Fortunately, we are as blessed as you are. We get to read your labors of love.
Nice article, good luck to Art.
I echo everyone’s sentiment about Joe’s writing. But I hesitate to do so. In my experience, perfectionists, like Joes seems to be, get more self-critical the more praise they get. I’ve worked with/trained/lived with a few people like this and the more you tell them they’re great, the more they think they have to be perfect every time and in all things. It’s a viscious circle.
So, maybe we all need to tone down our praise of Joe a bit for his own good.
There used to be Shirley Povich and Jim Murray. Now there’s just you.
The irony is that you champion Burt Blyleven; you’re more like Willie Mays. A shoo-in, no argument needed.
hey by the way I really enjoyed The Soul of Baseball. Grouped with your friend’s “The Gospel of father joe” and “mountains beyond mountains” they sort of changed they way i like to think i approach life. Anyway, this story, on a smaller scale is the same kind of way. I was wondering if there are other stories you are “proud” of(quotations make it sound condescending, but there aren’t italics).
That was an exceptionally well written article. I am grateful to you for letting me in on this extraordinary little piece of life through that mans story..
I enjoyed the story but I expect it happens all the time. I was just left wondering why he’d he want to marry a woman who thought the Yankee’s were the only team in town. Isn’t that strike three?
Nothing new here, but I thought it was a well put-together article by Mr. Posnanski.
I will be ever grateful to Rob Neyer for directing me to your blog, Joe. You may not be thrilled about what you write, but your fans sure are. You are absolutely fantastic. Many thanks for this article, and the numerous others I’ve enjoyed of late.
Joe, I’d just like to say… that column was about a million times better than Watchmen, the movie.
eh, it happens. i used to love some of the stuff i wrote, now, not so much.
More Hardball has looked at potential teams to add to the Major Leagues. So far, only the eastern half of the country has been explored, covering 16 of the 32 states that are not represented. Here, the west central United States will be examined. This time we look at North Dakota, South Dakota, Iowa, Nebraska, Louisiana, Arkansas, and Oklahoma.
Link: http://morehardball.blogspot.com/2009/03/major-league-expansion-part-4.html
We’d appreciate the plug if you like it.
This has gotta be a record … six days! Hope all is OK.
Not that I am unromantic, and I like the personal insights, but what about the Bo stories you left out? As a guy, those are as important as Rosemary