The Ex-'Burgher: Skewering the Sports Guy: 12/12/05

Monday, October 5, 1998. I would like to say that I have a clear recollection of this day, but let’s be honest: It was seven years ago. Baseball’s regular season had ended during the previous weekend, but the start of the postseason brought little excitement. After Mark McGwire’s 62nd home run on September 8, the season became much less exciting because we all knew what was coming in October. That was the year of the 114-win Yankees, who steamrolled through the playoffs and World Series.

That was probably one of those glorious fall mornings that had me wondering ‘Why did I choose to go to college in a place where the temperature falls below freezing on October 5?’, ‘Why did I schedule a 9 am class?’, and ‘Why in the world do I live 20 minutes from campus?’ It was also the day that Bill Simmons wrote a column called “Why No-mah is a Keep-ah” for his old Boston Sports Guy website.

Why mention 1998 now? “Why No-mah is a Keep-ah” is the first article included in Bill Simmons’s book, Now I Can Die in Peace, recently published by ESPN. Since Bill is currently on hiatus from espn.com for a combined vacation and book pimping, I am going to take the opportunity to review the book. Hopefully I can convince you to save $24.95.

The book is a compilation of articles from both the old Boston Sports Guy website and espn.com. The apparent purpose is to chronicle Bill’s path as a sportswriter and fan, culminating in the 2004 World Series. I disagree. Instead, the book is self-indulgent and narcissistic, as well as a thinly veiled attempt to cash in on the success of the Sox.

With the exception of the prologue and introduction, the book is entirely composed of recycled columns. The columns are heavily annotated, and Simmons has added editorial comments in the margins. The comments are supposed to offer an updated view of some topics, correct errors, and fill in the occasional blanks created by leaving certain columns out of the book. The annotations add very little in the way on content or substance, and instead make the book look like a well-marked college textbook.

I do not mean to imply that I am biased against compilations (only this one). In fact, I own several compilations of editorial and op-ed writers. Op-ed and news-related pieces often remain relevant for many years. The social and political issues of today are often not new; I have been listening to news reports on Medicare, gun control, and the federal deficit for as long as I can remember. The relevance of these topics over a long time span makes reading someone’s past views interesting. But while I like reading what someone had to say about racism in 1980 or 1990, sports are different. Reading a 1998 article about Nomar or a 2000 piece on the Manny Ramirez signing is boring, largely because the story changes rapidly.

It doesn’t take a degree in sabermetrics to guess the tone of “Why No-mah is a Keep-ah”--it’s optimistic. In 1998, that made perfect sense. Three years later, when Simmons starts to criticize Nomar for his various injuries, we know why. And we know what happens next: Nomar is traded in 2004, the Sox win the Series, and the media snickers at Nomar under their breath. My point is that in sports, 1998 might as well be ancient history. The same goes for 2001. On rare occasions, a trade or free agent signing matters for a decade or longer (like John Smoltz for Doyle Alexander), but in most cases the impact of sports stories is relevant for a few years at most, and some stories only matter for a week or two. (Imagine how silly I would sound if this article was about Kordell Stewart’s problems grasping Kevin Gilbride’s offense.)

The publication of Now I Can Die in Peace also created a difficult situation for Bill’s loyal readers. Prior to the book, nearly all of the Sports Guy columns written for espn.com were available for free. Now, anything published more than a few weeks ago is Insider content. I refuse to accept this move as anything but a money grab. Readers are forced to either ante up to espn.com and become an Insider, or fork over $25 for the book. Either way, it’s bad form, especially when you consider that Simmons once promised his readers that he would maintain free archives.

I strongly recommend that nobody, not even the most loyal Simmons fan, buy this book. It is irrelevant, a sell-out, and, most importantly, unceasingly boring. The only way I managed to make it all the way through was to play my favorite game, ‘Find the Bill Simmons contradiction.’ My favorite came from “Losing Baggage in the Bronx” (October 20, 2004), where Bill declares “If the Red Sox . . . win the World Series, you will never have to read my whining about the travails of Red Sox fans again.” For those not scoring at home, Bill stayed true to this promise for roughly seven months, and started posting whiny Sox columns again in May 2005 (I would check to be sure, but I am not shelling out to become an Insider).

If you find yourself walking into Barnes and Noble or Borders wondering what to buy for the sports fan in you life, DO NOT pick up a copy of this book. Seriously. Buy Friday Night Lights or Ball Four or even a highlight reel. Don’t give in to the temptation of the big display put up by ESPN, and you will achieve two goods: you will save the reader many boring hours, and you won’t be supporting the propagation of the Bill Simmons Smug Face. (And you won’t be wasting $25 on a paperweight.)

Manalyzer results: -90. One Bill Simmons article is bad enough. A book full of them, complete with smarmy comments, just might push somebody over the edge. Throw in the self-serving and sell-out aspects, and you have the making of an 86-year loser.