This one hit really hard, you guys. Seriously, David Foster Wallace was one of the few living literary figures that C.C. genuinely believed could save the world.
Here are two pieces in The Times:
One of my favorite pieces he ever wrote was this essay for the New York Times on watching Swiss tennis living-legend Roger Federer play live in the 2006 Wimbledon final versus now world No. 1 Raphael Nadal. He goes into the most mundane yet pivotal mineutia regarding how the tennis ball is hit, explains just why what athletes like Roger Federer do is so remarkable, and gives the game of tennis the rapt attention that a Trekkie would give to a Schatner sighting at a Star Trek convention, all at risk of marginalizing himself and alienating readers. I loved this man’s work. Rigorous (word of the year!) and hilarious, absurd because of its meticulous accounting of the real, idiosyncratic and breathtakingly long-winded. Marvelous.