His narrative voice was an empathic, whispering lyricism, and he wrote with a dazzling omniscience that in his finest work was earned through many, many months of intensive reporting. It was impossible to imitate him. And it was impossible not to try.
It’s almost like a wake, the reaction to Gary Smith’s retirement. Alan Siegel joins the chorus of quality writers weighing in on the impossible standards the premium sportswriter of our times set.
But the trick of Smith’s technique was that he made it seem possible for relatively inexperienced writers who’d yet to have a Gary Smith moment. His work seemed less like an exercise in high-velocity writing than it did a feat of sustained attention—to his sources, to their anecdotes, to the minute but revealing details that accumulate throughout a life. It was of course much more than that, but when you’re 21 and the extra-inning, lightning-delayed American Legion baseball game you’re covering has you questioning your career choices, it’s nice knowing there are more ambitious and yet still doable varieties of sportswriting out there. Maybe with the right subject, you start to think …
“The imitation of Gary Smith has been the cause of reams and reams of very bad writing,” Lake said. “That is not his fault. People want to be like him. I say that as someone who’s done it himself.
“You’re playing with fire when you try to do what Gary does.”
And if hadn’t caught it already, here, a comprehensive round-up of Smith’s work, and lots of links: In the Furnace of the Sporting Psyche.