To my mind, Jimmy Cannon was the greatest sports writer who ever lived. I read his columns in the New York Post avidly and religiously. When he wasn't writing about sports, he was musing, offering his personal, mostly one- or two-liner opinions, about anything that hit his off-the-charts observant eye. Most had little to do with sports.
Today we are well accustomed to having some of the most enduring names in American letters long associated with The New Yorker: John Updike, appearing there for nearly sixty years; E. B. White; James Thurber; John Cheever; Rachel Carson; John McPhee; and many more. However, The New Yorker was a newcomer in 1925.