The Continental Sports Association’s newsroom never sleeps. Somewhere between the echo of dice, the roar of the crowd, and the hum of a late-night typewriter, four distinct voices record the rhythms of sport and imagination. Behind the Typewriter gathers them here — the chroniclers, poets, and wisecrackers who turn the games of the CSA into living mythology.
Four voices, one newsroom — the heart of the Continental Sports Association.
A meticulous keeper of order and chance, Waugh treats the Universal Baseball Association as both sacred duty and dangerous experiment. He writes in the hush of lamplight, where dice become destiny and records outlast their makers. For Waugh, baseball is scripture — written one probability at a time.
The quiet conscience of the Continental Sports Association, Keane writes with patience and gravity. His prose moves like November wind across college fields — deliberate, reflective, and tinged with nostalgia. Beneath the formality lies affection: for the pageantry, the purpose, and the sound of a marching band on cold air.
Mercer covers the city’s game the only way he knows how — in rhythm. His dispatches read like jazz riffs: loose, electric, full of alleyways and echoing gyms. A cup of coffee, a ribbon of smoke, and the hum of neon outside — that’s his press box. When night falls, the typewriter keeps time.
A veteran of microphones and mayhem, Doyle is the league’s comic relief and truth-teller rolled into one. He’s seen it all, called it all, and somehow still finds new ways to crack wise about it. Equal parts showman and storyteller, Doyle reminds everyone that in sports — and in life — it’s okay to laugh between innings or quarters.