The Editorial Team

Dave J. Edwards, The Public Apology founder and chief editor

Edwards

A young and ambitious entrepreneur, Edwards first rose to prominence as a finalist in Forbes’ 30 Under 30 media category back in 2012. This was later discovered to be a hoax – and he remains firmly on the periphery of both the mainstream media landscape and society in general.

A relentless micro-manager with a flair for all things tabloid, Edwards is not slow to take the credit for his reporters’ hard work – as long as it makes him look good.

He once fired a new secretary for replenishing the communal biscuit tin with “ridiculously overpriced” Arnotts Assorted Creams. This frugality extends to his much-vaunted editorial team, with TPA reporters required to provide their own stationery, laptops, printing paper and coffee.

Despite this tough, profits-oriented veneer, Edwards fancies himself as a Renaissance man (although to be fair, so did Hitler). The elitist literary references in Edwards’ prose may seem effortless and natural, but are in fact completely forced.

He is deeply intimidated by the works of William Faulkner, but this will not stop him indulgently – and incorrectly – quoting The Sound and the Fury as he forces yet another tenuous sporting analogy.

Edwards openly speaks of his desire to retire at the age of 35 and move to West Texas, where he will play whiskey-soaked folk/country music under a pseudonym in dimly lit bars and cafes, thus shamelessly channeling the fictional spirit of Jeff Bridges’ ‘Bad’ Blake in the somewhat underwhelming 2009 film Crazy Heart.

In reality, disgruntled employees will likely force him out of his role four months from now in a bitter workplace coup.

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Samuel J.J. Perry, The Public Apology senior editor

 Pez

A man of words; not action. A bon vivant-cum-wordsmith with joie de vivre and a love of gratuitous French phrases, and above all else, italics.

If life were a game of OzTag, Perry would dance across the line; running at the defence would be too brutish, too uncouth, too common. That is, of course, unless he is ghosting through a gap like Stephen Larkham or delicately scything through it with a pass that evokes the genius of Xavi Hernandez.

Equipped with a sharp tongue and a dull pencil, he is the Cleveland Cavaliers during the Mark Price era: Innovative, effective, and really, really Caucasian.

Like the illegitimate child of Tim Winton and Tim May, he is both evocative and provocative.

Perry leaves nothing on the field, and will give 110 per cent every time, but is more interested in the one-percenters and the je ne sais quoi of professional sports.

He is Rocky’s Balboa’s spirit, not Ivan Drago’s chest. Damien Martyn’s cut-shot, not Ivan Lendl’s forehand. He is all wrists, no arms.

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Alasdair McClintock, The Public Apology senior editor

 Alasdair
McClintock’s greatest strength as a writer is his ability to evoke sordid imagery while delivering a poignant message.

Indeed, his crude, provocative sexual metaphors burn deep into the mind of the reader for an unsettling aftertaste that is difficult to shake even months later. Especially if all you had been expecting was a mundane, 200-word article on Braith Anasta.

McClintock’s propensity for memorable phases such as anal play and that fateful wank has cemented his place among the upper echelon of obscure, oft litigious sports bloggers.

His style is a cross between Tom Wolfe and Gore Vidal, if both were high on mescaline and not particularly interested in book sales.

His unique, often violent use of sexual imagery is probably a result of something weird that happened when he was a kid – and therefore TPA chief editor Dave Edwards has opted not to discuss this with him in fear of embarrassment.

It is becoming increasingly likely that McClintock will meet his own grisly demise, with investigators set to discover the following elements at the crime scene: a) a sturdy rope; b) various S&M sex toys; c) a CD of Enya’s greatest hits. The coroner will rule no foul play.

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Ben Shine, The Public Apology senior editor

 Shine

Ben Shine is a razor-tongued raconteur who mixes a grassroots heart with Ivy League sensibilities.

He is most at home hosting dinner parties for 8-10 people, which of course he calls soirees. He will generally hold court at these affairs and can entertain guests on a wide range of topics – for example last week he effortlessly floated between discussions of Bourdieu and the realpolitik of reason alongside musings on why Channel 9 turns the crowd volumes up sharply when players kick off/kick for goal.

Shine plays at the line. He doesn’t play before it, and only rarely plays after it. He scythes, he weaves, he ducks. He has options. In his pomp he beat players, however now (rightfully) assumes a trequartista or ‘false 9’ role.

He has an attacking heart but due to injuries his art is now in the Catenaccio, or ‘groove noir’ tradition. I am talking about his writing.

Of course, there are the parallels with Daniel Della Bosca. Like Daniel, Shine is an intelligent wordsmith likely to one day own a quirky boatshed – cultivating an air of mystery wherever he goes. This makes him right at home at TPA.

Daniel Della Bosca? He also goes by another name: Diver Dan.

 

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