Master Class

National treasure Dan Jenkins is the flavor of the month (or at least of this morning) in celebration of the forthcoming publication of his 21st book, His Ownself - A Semi-Memoir.  

Jake Silverstein, writing for Texas Monthly, gets lead off, because of this succinct summary of the epic scope of Jenkins' career:

Dan Jenkins is very likely the only person who started off writing for the afternoon newspapers in the forties and ended up as a maestro of Twitter. But although the Fort Worth legend’s longevity is mind-blowing—next month he’ll cover his sixty-fourth consecutive Masters Tournament—even more impressive is the effect his funny, bracing writing style has had on American sportswriting (newbies looking to sample Jenkins’s prose should start with his pro-football novel, Semi-Tough).

In each of these pieces there's more than I can possibly excerpt, so you're encouraged, nay ordered, to click trough and read.  Take this from Silverstein's question about what made Hogan (with whom Jenkins was close) great:

Hard work. He was a poor ol’ runt that came from nowhere and just wanted to make a better 

The Great One

life for himself. Golf was the only sport he could play. It took him a long time. Hell, it took him five years to get on the tour. Borrowin’ money, scrappin’ around, but he worked at it. He was so envious of the naturals that didn’t even have to practice—Byron Nelson, Sam Snead. He was so envious of them that he was just gonna outwork ’em. And he did. He just worked his ass off. He had a competitive streak in him. All the great players have a little mean in ’em. A little arrogance and a little mean. It’s like one of my favorite sayings: “It’s not enough to win, you have to let the loser know he lost.”

This question and answer rings true as well:

JS: And a couple of years ago you tweeted, “Sometimes I remember the fifties better than the nineties.” 

DJ: Well, it’s true. They were easier to know—Hogan and Nicklaus in particular. I never really knew Tiger. He won’t let anybody know him. I think the reason is that he doesn’t have anything to say. All he knows is how to hit a golf ball. All the other guys—Hogan read books, he was in the oil business, he was a huge football fan. We talked about football more than we talked about golf.

Next up is Dwight Garner's review for Books of the Times, a publication one would expect to be hostile to a curmudgeonly conservative such as Jenkins.  The review is surprisingly (and appropriately) affectionate, though Garner does take Jenkins to task for an ill-considered tweet in which he mentioned picking up take-out from Y.E. Yang.  Good bits include:

Riding with the King - working on a story with Arnie.

He remembers the editor who told him, “See how many paragraphs you can go before you put the score in.” He recalls a “cocktail-motivated routine” he had with another Sports Illustrated writer, Roy Blount Jr., about how to respond to people who say, “I saw your book.” Part of this routine went — and I recommend these lines to writers everywhere — “You saw my book? What was it doing?”

Or this about how movies were better in the old days:

In the 1930s, Joaquin Phoenix wouldn’t get the girl, he’d get the luggage.

This Bill Field item in Golfworld is perfectly fine on its own merits, but comes with even better links to series of best of features.  From his best tweets of 2013:

I hear Fox wants Greg Norman to be the new Johnny Miller. Greg should be able to handle the knowing choking when he sees it part.

From his best writing on the PGA Championship:

THE SHIRT FROM HELL
The polka dot that Steve Elkington wore at Baltusrol in 2005. I take it back: It didn't look as much like something Joan Crawford sold on eBay as it did Ron Turcotte's silks when he was up on Secretariat.

 From his Open Championship work:

GREG NORMAN BEING GREG NORMAN  

Norman shot 77 at Turnberry in 2009, and he wasn't even leading at the time.

Last up is Shackelford, who posts a six-item Q& A with the man:

GS: Is there any tool or trick in today's media world you wish you had when you were starting out?

DJ: As Red (Smith) once said, "You start out lifting from your heroes and eventually you find your own voice."

Keep that in mind, Geoff, when I plagiarize shamelessly from you.   

And for reasons that elude me, there's this Downton Abbey exchange:

GS: So is Bates a murderer? 

DJ: I'm tired of Bates. I'm deeply concerned about who Lady Mary is going to wind up with.

Aren't we all, Dan, aren't we all?