Roger Angell, editor, baseball writer at the New Yorker, dies at 101

[mahatmakanejeeves]

1. Life was a ball with Roger Angell. How lucky we were to read about it.

MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL
Life was a ball with Roger Angell. How lucky we were to read about it.

Perspective by Thomas Boswell
Columnist
May 22, 2022 at 7:35 a.m. EDT

When Roger Angell was in his 80s, I was proud to be his human shield in a spitball assault in which Roger pummeled a pompous pundit with paper wads in a Yankee Stadium press box. ... “Lean forward just a little so I can throw behind you. I think I can hit him in the head,” said Angell, the best baseball essayist ever, who died May 20 at 101.

Roger’s target was a famous but obnoxious TV know-it-all — on both sports and politics — who was standing in the auxiliary press box aisle making loud comments to a pair of sycophants on all subjects, except the playoff game in progress.

“Pipe down!” said Angell in a fake voice, firing his salvo, then falling back behind me — seated face forward, just watching the game, the image of aged innocent itself. Who could be suspicious of such an elderly literary legend — the fiction editor at the New Yorker to John Updike and Ann Beattie, and the stepson of author E.B. White? Hidden in plain sight was a third-grade saboteur on a mission. ... “Missed,” Angell hissed. “Let’s try it again.”

[Roger Angell, editor, baseball writer at the New Yorker, dies at 101]

For a couple of innings, Angell continued his bombardment, accompanied by taunts of “Watch the game,” “Get lost,” or variations on “Shut up,” though I doubt he used those two words. The dozen other writers in the press box played dumb.

{snip}

By Thomas M. Boswell
Tom Boswell has been a Washington Post sports columnist since 1984. He started at The Post in 1969 as a copy aide, and he spent 12 years as a general-assignment reporter, covering baseball, golf, college basketball, tennis, boxing and local high school sports. Twitter https://twitter.com/ThomasBoswellWP