RIP John Updike

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http://www.boston.com/sports/baseball/redsox/articles/2008/09/26/hub_fans_bid_kid_adieu/
 
Tell your mother, if she asks, that maybe we'll meet some other time. Under the pear trees, in Paradise."

-- Updike from Rabbit in Rest
 
This is one of the truly great paragraphs in the history of sports writing.

Like a feather caught in a vortex, Williams ran around the square of bases at the center of our beseeching screaming. He ran as he always ran out home runs - hurriedly, unsmiling, head down, as if our praise were a storm of rain to get out of. He didn't tip his cap. Though we thumped, wept, and chanted "We want Ted" for minutes after he hid in the dugout, he did not come back. Our noise for some seconds passed beyond excitement into a kind of immense open anguish, a wailing, a cry to be saved. But immortality is nontransferable. The papers said that the other players, and even the umpires on the field, begged him to come out and acknowledge us in some way, but he refused. Gods do not answer letters.
 
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Double Down said:
This is one of the truly great paragraphs in the history of sports writing.

Like a feather caught in a vortex, Williams ran around the square of bases at the center of our beseeching screaming. He ran as he always ran out home runs - hurriedly, unsmiling, head down, as if our praise were a storm of rain to get out of. He didn't tip his cap. Though we thumped, wept, and chanted "We want Ted" for minutes after he hid in the dugout, he did not come back. Our noise for some seconds passed beyond excitement into a kind of immense open anguish, a wailing, a cry to be saved. But immortality is nontransferable. The papers said that the other players, and even the umpires on the field, begged him to come out and acknowledge us in some way, but he refused. Gods do not answer letters.
chills
 
Double Down said:
This is one of the truly great paragraphs in the history of sports writing.

Like a feather caught in a vortex, Williams ran around the square of bases at the center of our beseeching screaming. He ran as he always ran out home runs - hurriedly, unsmiling, head down, as if our praise were a storm of rain to get out of. He didn't tip his cap. Though we thumped, wept, and chanted "We want Ted" for minutes after he hid in the dugout, he did not come back. Our noise for some seconds passed beyond excitement into a kind of immense open anguish, a wailing, a cry to be saved. But immortality is nontransferable. The papers said that the other players, and even the umpires on the field, begged him to come out and acknowledge us in some way, but he refused. Gods do not answer letters.

Was just about to post that, DD. Thanks for doing it. I believe that's from Hub Fans Bid Kid Adieu.

RIP to a legend.
 
Zeke12 said:
Double Down said:
This is one of the truly great paragraphs in the history of sports writing.

Like a feather caught in a vortex, Williams ran around the square of bases at the center of our beseeching screaming. He ran as he always ran out home runs - hurriedly, unsmiling, head down, as if our praise were a storm of rain to get out of. He didn't tip his cap. Though we thumped, wept, and chanted "We want Ted" for minutes after he hid in the dugout, he did not come back. Our noise for some seconds passed beyond excitement into a kind of immense open anguish, a wailing, a cry to be saved. But immortality is nontransferable. The papers said that the other players, and even the umpires on the field, begged him to come out and acknowledge us in some way, but he refused. Gods do not answer letters.

Was just about to post that, DD. Thanks for doing it. I believe that's from Hub Fans Bid Kid Adieu.

RIP to a legend.

The Reanimated Mr. Vonnegut has posted the entire story in the link above. I thought it was an obit at first, but was delighted to see it was Hub Fans Bid Kid Adieu. If there is any writer, young or old, who has never read it, they should do so now. Probably one of the five greatest pieces ever.
 
Good thing he wrote it because only about 2500 people actually saw it.
 
Fenian_Bastard said:
Good thing he wrote it because only about 2500 people actually saw it.
I wonder if it made Sportscenter's Top Ten
 
I loved the Rabbit Angstrom novels and read the first two several times each. Rabbit was a hot-type printer at a newspaper, as was his dad, before he began selling cars for his father-in-law. What was really funny is that he'd sometimes think of his daily life in terms of headlines, sort of like:

CAR SALESMAN BANGS PRINTER'S WIFE
Father-in-law mum on daughter's fling
 
Good stuff, DD. "Gods do not answer letters" is my favorite line ever written in a sports story.
 
Krusty: What's your name again?
This Guy: John Updike.
Krusty: Whoa, whoa! I didn't ask for your life story.

RIP.
 
Damn.

Damn, damn, damn.

One of the true literary lions of the 20th century. Wow. Who's left? McCarthy. Roth. ...
 
I had the wonderful opportunity to have a 5-minute conversation with him . . . 15 years ago, it was . . . then listen to him talk for half an hour. Oh, how I wish I had that taped.
 

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