ESPN.com: Page 2 : Death in the afternoon
Hunter Thompson is dead. I bet you weren’t expecting that. But I found this column from his tenure at ESPN.com, it appears to be his last for them, and it got me to thinking.
HS Thompson wrote his best stuff for Rolling Stone in the early 70s. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail rise above everything else he did because he was still energetically figuring out the form. He did some fine writing after that (and before it, too. Hells Angels is an excellent book.), but far too often post-F&L the schtick won out over the content. You always had to wonder what was real, what was not.
In those great books it didn’t matter. Ever after, it did.
I think I’ve known more people who knew Hunter Thompson (ate with him, argued with him, had sex with him, shot guns with him) than any other person I never met. One of those was John Walsh, who was Thompson’s editor at Rolling Stone in the glory days, who ran Inside Sports when it published Dan Okrent’s first story about the Rotisserie League, who introduced me to Bill James, and who invited me into my first fantasy baseball league back in 1982. John is also the guy who created SportsCenter.
I’ve been reading plenty cockeyed encomiums about Thompson the past two days and there’s no way I can comment on HS the man, but as a writer he should be revered and yet not overestimated. He was a late bloomer, a guy who struggled writing professionally until he had his brilliant idea, and there is no doubt that its very brilliance consumed him. But the generosity of his spirit can even be found in much of the lesser and later works, the energy of his outrage should be an inspiration for anyone forever, and at the end of the day, and this is his, as a man he should be admired for the legions who mourn him. What better tribute is there than that?
[A day after writing the original I made some edits to better clarify what I meant.]