Penelope Cruz, breasts on radiant display, covers the November issue of Esquire, the storied magazine for men who wear statement socks. She is, for the moment, the Sexiest Woman Alive. But the article about her, by two-time National Magazine Award-winning journalist and Deadspin Good Writering Award winner Chris Jones, is not really about her. She evidently didn't feel like talking much.
Esquire and ESPN Magazine writer Chris Jones—winner of both a National Magazine Award (though not as many as he believes he deserves) and a Gawker Least Important Writers award—has long been known as that guy. That guy who, despite having one of the more enviable writing jobs in journalism, would wail about not winning an award. That guy who would launch soul-pained howls against the merest online insult. That guy whose Twitter bio said "I'm also a big fan of The Three B's: bacon, books, and bourbon"—until now.