SEC Schedule Release: The American South’s Glorious Annual Bloodletting Goes Global Dave’s Locker International Desk, somewhere over the Atlantic The Southeastern Conference (SEC) football schedule—unveiled this week with all the pomp of a papal conclave crossed with a Black Friday stampede—has washed up on foreign shores again. From TikTok feeds in Lagos to sports bars…
The New York Rangers: How a Hockey Team Became the World’s Most Expensive Metaphor for Late-Stage Capitalism By Dave’s International Bureau of Existential Sports When the New York Rangers skate onto the ice at Madison Square Garden, they do so beneath a jumbotron roughly the size of Liechtenstein and in front of a crowd whose…
The Bruin Diaspora: How Boston’s Bear Became the World’s Most Overworked Mascot By Our Correspondent, Somewhere Between a Munich Beer Hall and a Jakarta Food Court If you think “bruin” is merely shorthand for a hockey team whose fans believe the 1970s never ended, you haven’t been paying attention to late-stage capitalism’s gift for exporting…
Twins vs Rangers: The Global Battle for the Soul of Baseball and, Incidentally, the Free World By Our Man in the Press Box, Nursing a Warm Beer and Existential Fatigue MINNEAPOLIS—Somewhere above the Mississippi flyway, migratory birds heading north for spring looked down and mistook Target Field for a misplaced casino parking lot. The Twins…
Sarah McLachlan and the Global Export of Wistful Melancholy ————————————————————- Somewhere between a UN peacekeeping convoy and a container ship of tear-stained Kleenex, the British Columbian soprano has become Canada’s most reliable soft-power weapon. Sarah McLachlan’s voice—equal parts lullaby and guilt trip—now drifts through taxicabs from Lagos to Lahore, duty-free lounges in Dubai, and boutique…
Fresh: The Last Luxury Good Humanity Still Pretends Isn’t Rotting By Our Correspondent, Somewhere Between the Arctic Cold Chain and a Bangkok Street Cart PARIS—At 4:47 a.m. on the Rungis wholesale floor, a crate of strawberries is declared “extra-fresh.” The label is printed in seven languages, none of which mention that the berries were harvested…
In the wee hours between Wall Street closing and the Nikkei opening, two professional baseball clubs from the American Midwest—geographic trivia that still baffles most of the planet—met under Queens’ sodium lights to decide precisely nothing. The New York Mets and the Chicago Cubs, franchises whose combined payroll could refinance a small Balkan republic, squared…
Typhoon vs Hurricane: A Global Spin on Humanity’s Favorite Spin Cycle By “Marina Monsoon,” Senior Correspondent, Dave’s Locker Weather-Industrial Desk If you’ve ever watched a weather map and wondered why the apocalypse is spelled “typhoon” in Tokyo, “hurricane” in Houston, and “just another Tuesday” in the Philippines, congratulations—you’ve stumbled onto the most expensive game of…
The Curious Case of Global Schadenfreude: What Time Is Dancing With the Stars On (And Why the World Secretly Cares) Somewhere between the melting permafrost of Siberia and the latest crypto-bro meltdown in Singapore, a question ricochets through 192 sovereign time zones with the urgency of a UN Security Council resolution: “What time is Dancing…
Passport Panic Goes Global: The Foreign Office’s Backup Plan and the Paper Chase of Modern Citizenship By Our Man in the Queue, Somewhere between Terminal 3 and Existential Dread If the 20th century taught us anything, it’s that passports are just polite permission slips from the state allowing you to flee your own tax code….
Red Wings: The Global Passport Nobody Asked For By Henrietta “Hank” Mortensen, Senior Correspondent, Somewhere Over International Waters The first time I heard the phrase “earning your red wings,” I was in a cramped Nairobi hostel listening to a Canadian backpacker brag between gulps of warm Tusker. He spoke the words like a battlefield commendation,…
From Warsaw to Las Vegas via Abu Dhabi: Mateusz Gamrot and the Curious Case of the Polish Export That Punches Back By the time most countries are content to sell the world cars, vodka, or at worst a surveillance app, Poland has quietly cornered a niche market in lightweight human projectiles. Enter Mateusz Gamrot—31 years…
