To SI: Hire me
Aspen, CO Colorado
Dear Mr. McDonell (managing editor, Sports Illustrated):
It was with great interest that I read the news this week that your back-page columnist, Rick Reilly, will be leaving Sports Illustrated for ESPN. I would be honored if you would consider me for his job.
At first blush, I’m probably not the most obvious choice for SI’s next back-page columnist since the chance of me writing about sports in any given week has generally been about one in 33. That, and because I don’t actually subscribe to or read SI. But my husband does, and for what it’s worth, I purchased the subscription for him (he really wanted the Saints fleece).
The truth is, I have a wealth of first-hand sporting experience. For instance, I played a season of Little League baseball when I was 8. Never mind that my neighbor, who was the coach and needed to get a token girl or risk forfeiting the season, forced me onto the team. The only time I got on base was when the pitcher hit me with the ball. However, the experience taught me to appreciate firsthand how it feels to be a bench warmer. (Let’s face it, probably all but a few hundred of your millions of weekly readers are benchwarmers, couch potatoes or armchair quarterbacks.) Plus, my entire team applauded me when I was in left field and gave the ball that had been hit to me to the center fielder to throw to the infield. I knew there wasn’t a chance I could throw that far. I pride myself in having that same good judgment today (and vow to use it to call in sick for all SI softball games).
Throughout elementary and middle school, I played soccer. I even made the all-star team for a few years. I stopped making the team when my dad stopped coaching. But I don’t think there was a correlation.
I was on the junior varsity tennis team for two years and varsity for three. I wasn’t a star, but my sister was. She even went to nationals in college and to this day she’s still one of the best players on the country club circuit in Westchester County, NY. So, I kind of like to think of myself as great by osmosis.
Plus, I used to go to the U.S. Open every year and managed to get tons of autographs. I became an expert at sneaking into the really expensive box seats to get the John Hancocks of stars like Michael Douglas. Bill Cosby wouldn’t give me his signature, but he did kiss me on the cheek. I have a feeling your readers would be impressed with my stick-to-itiveness and keen ability to spot celebrities at crowded sporting events. I don’t want to brag, but even when just flipping by a Knicks game on TV, I can always pick Spike Lee out of the crowd.
My column in the annual swimsuit issue would definitely help boost sales, as I’d offer salacious insight into which supermodel is dating that race car guy who keeps schtupping all the other supermodels. And P.S., I could have told your readers way before everyone else this week that SI’s first Israeli supermodel, Bar Rafaeli, and Leonardo DiCaprio were never going to last.
To be perfectly frank, I won’t be devoting a whole lot of space to boxing. But then again, neither does SI, right?
I also predict that the subject of hockey won’t come up often in my columns, but that’s mostly because hockey fans can’t read.
Extensive ink will be spent writing about Viagra commercials, of which there were scores during the baseball playoff games (that I was forced to watch lest I wanted to risk having my Colorado citizenship revoked). They’ve come a long way since Bob Dole first whispered of ED in the ’90s.
I’ll also opine about the choice of music in Ford commercials. After all, isn’t it time to move away from the blue-collar tunes of Bob Seger and John Mellencamp? Wouldn’t it make more sense to use something like “Freeway of Love” by Detroit-native Aretha Franklin? Or Prince’s “Little Red Corvette”? (OK, some of these ideas will need a little work.)
Finally, I think it’ll help my chances if you know that I’ve seen “Jerry McGuire” at least seven times and “The Natural” is my favorite movie (second only to “Tootsie”).
I am confident that SI and I could have a long and mutually beneficial relationship. (Secret deodorant would probably hop on board as an advertiser ” after all, it is strong enough for a man. And I’m sure SI could arrange for my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandkids’ kids to get some Rockies tickets ” you know, for the next time the team makes it to the postseason.)
Thanks in advance for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you.
P.S. Don’t worry about offering a signing bonus. If you could just get me of those football phones, we’ll call it even.
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From behind the scenes, the sights and sounds of horse and cattle, and the raucous lifestyle of rodeo culture hasn’t changed all that much since the Snowmass Rodeo arena opened here in the summer of 1973.