In the winter of 1955, the editors of a newly launched magazine called Sports Illustrated sent William Faulkner to watch an ice hockey game between the New York Rangers and the Montreal Canadiens. The novelist was a puck novice — the article was entitled “An Innocent at Rinkside” — and he knew little about the sport’s strategy or culture. But his brief essay captured hockey’s relentless tempo, its improvisational surges, its attendant carnage.
My very good friend David Davis on hockey lit: lareviewofbooks:
Man, if sports articles were still written like that, I’d start paying attention to them and the games.