Rick Reilly

I'm a recovering sportswriter -- two meetings a day -- who now writes books and movies and tries not to shoot his weight in golf.

I cranked out the back-page column for Sports Illustrated for more than 20 years and then did TV features and columns and swept up for ESPN for eight years.

I'm not a particularly smart man. Once, in Malaysia, I was about to pop the little hotel bedside chocolate into my mouth when my wife hollered, "That's the bug incense, you idiot!" Once, I was kayaking by myself when it began to rain. I paused, cursing my luck. Then the rain stopped. I started paddling again. Rain again. Pause. No rain. Started paddling again. Only then did I realize it was my paddle throwing drops on my head.

I'm crazy for people and their swings and misses and their small victories and sorrows and, most of all, their stories. I think that's what's always driven my writing. It was never about the sports -- I tried hard not to ever put numbers in my columns -- it was about the people who played them.

This latest book about Trump, though, rose out of the sheer gall he had to tell people he'd won 18 club championships, when I knew he faked most of those. How did I know? He told me! (Liars have a hard time keeping all their lies straight.) That set me on the trail of what other lies he was telling the world about his golf and his golf courses, which wound up being my latest: "Commander In Cheat: How Golf Explains Trump."

Anyway I hope you like it.