Fear or anxiety, especially about something that may happen. Trembling, even. Biting of nails. Sideways glances. Short, clipped speech. Declaring "Under Pressure" to be your life song. Paranoia (in B flat major).
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Frank Deford passed away on Sunday, aged 78. To say he was a giant of sportswriting is both an understatement and an ironic overstatement, given that he published a collection entitled "The World's Tallest Midget." Unique, brilliant, and exhaustive, Deford's voice will be sorely missed.
The Ringer has an obituary that doubles as an introduction to Deford, especially noting his style:
Deford’s prose style was inviting, easygoing, never seeming to try too hard. From “The Toughest Coach There Ever Was” (1984):
"Robert Victor Sullivan, whom you’ve surely never heard of, was the toughest coach of them all. He was so tough he had to have two tough nicknames, Bull and Cyclone, and his name was usually recorded this way: coach Bob “Bull” “Cyclone” Sullivan or coach Bob (Bull) (Cyclone) Sullivan. Also, at times he was known as Big Bob or Shotgun. He was the most unique of men, and yet he remains utterly representative of a time that has vanished, from the gridiron and from these United States."
Except for that nut-graffy half sentence at the end, it could be the first paragraph of a short story — an edgy fable. The rest of the piece read like one.
Any Deford piece is a "stop what you're doing for the hour and read it" assignment. His 1978 feature about iconoclastic tennis great Jimmy Connors, "Raised By Women to Conquer Men", is a worthy read:
But the problem is that it is not Bjorn Borg who is the target. It is his own man that the boy is chasing. Jimbo will be 26 next week, and the boy and his mother can only go so far. There must be the man to accept the harsh truths, so that once again he can win finals, win other people. If ever Jimmy Connors would stop trying to be something else, if only Jimmy Connors would again take the ball on the rise, the way he once did, crushing it, crashing forward, taking no prisoners, what a dreadnought he would be. Why, that would make 'em forget '74--and serve 'em right!
But no one knows if he is capable of the necessary changes. What we do know is that only one mother has made a men's champion, but that no mother has ever kept a man champion.
You can read the whole thing at Sports Illustrated.
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