My guess is that we are at about a 60/40 break of Poopreaders who know about David Foster Wallace. Put simply, he was arguably the greatest writer of his generation, in possession of a brilliantly analytical mind and capable of the kind of insights that make other writers think about choosing new careers. He was also, by many accounts, an excellent tennis player--nationally ranked as a kid. And he remained a fan throughout his life, which ended at his own hand in 2008. This piece from the NYTimes' Play magazine is perhaps his most famous shorter work. He examines Roger Federer at the height of his greatness. A great read for a Saturday morning cup of coffee, it's one genius explaining another.
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