Sometimes, I wish I could think like Jayson — and sometimes, with
all the stuff ping-ponging around his brain, I’m grateful I
cannot. But always, I wish I could write like him. Jayson’s
writing is conversational, entertaining and often laugh-out-loud
funny. He doesn’t take himself seriously. But he takes his
audience extremely seriously, and considers no detail too small in
his service of the reader.
Among his many attributes, Jayson has a knack for engaging
relatively obscure veterans who are keen observers of the game,
and then elevating them to oracles in his columns. After a long
night of October baseball, 99 percent of us will gather in the
clubhouse around the star of the game. Jayson will be off in the
corner, talking to whoever he has identified as this year’s Corky
Miller or Casey Candaele or Skip Schumaker or Mark DeRosa — and
naturally, getting the best stuff.
Stark was a longtime baseball columnist for The Inquirer here in Philly. Back in the ’90s, he got an entire two-page spread in the Sunday Inquirer all to himself. My roommates and I used to fight over who got to read it first. I like The Athletic a lot, but I’d subscribe just to read Jayson Stark.