I can't say I've ever disliked Rick Reilly. Because my interest initially gravitated toward Bill Simmons, I naturally sided with The Sports Guy in the top-ESPN columnist rivalry. I never boycotted Reilly's writing, just consciously ignored it. Especially if there was new Simmons material.
The light in which I viewed Reilly changed this past Tuesday, and it didn't get brighter.
As I entered Cromwell Field to watch the Trojans engage in intrasquad abuse for Competition Tuesday, I noticed a familiar face speaking with the SC Sports Information Director.
Oh, hey Rick Reilly I text in typical douchebag-boasting fashion to Wilt Stilts (by the way - quit changing your fucking name. We're big-time now). I stand about three feet to the left of the superstar writer and eavesdrop a bit on his conversation with the SID. He's cordial and engaging; he asks questions about the SID's family and gets his thoughts on the team and other headlines that day.
I follow up my text to Wilt with Should I ask him "Can I have your autograph, Mr. Simmons?" I consider the proposition and imagine two possible Reilly reactions:
