Every place looks pretty much the same when it’s raining endlessly. Minnesota and Wisconsin. Rural Illinois and the suburban wasteland of Chicago. Michigan. Ontario. Upstate New York. Flatlands, farms, industry, and all their trappings, from the barns to the truck … Continue reading
Driving through the buttery heart of Wisconsin in my rented Chevy Cobalt, dubbed “The Storm Trooper” by our neighbor Rachel (it’s as white and mildly menacing as the Star Wars jerks), I find myself jabbing at the scan button looking … Continue reading
What a long, strange trip it’s been: I started The End of Baseball in the summer of 2001. Ten drafts, thirty-four rejections later, and countless hours spent writing and researching the thing in the confines of my office and here … Continue reading