Bryson DeChambeau, the human launch monitor who looks like he bench-presses physics textbooks, has become golf’s most reliable export of controlled chaos. While the rest of the planet argues over tariffs, carbon credits, and whose submarine is parked in whose harbor, DeChambeau is busy re-engineering the supposedly pastoral game into something resembling a NASA stress…
PARIS—Somewhere between the fifth croissant and the third existential crisis of the week, the name Kellen Moore ping-ponged through the global sports-commentariat like a ricocheting drone strike. To the average Parisian barista, the phrase “Kellen Moore” sounds like the latest Scandinavian furniture line—minimalist, vaguely threatening, and guaranteed to fall apart after four seasons. Yet on…
A Severe Thunderstorm Watch Has Been Issued—for the Entire Planet From the equatorial belt to the Arctic Circle, from the rice paddies of Guangxi to the ski resorts of Zermatt, the alert is out: the sky is in a mood and we all live under the same temperamental ceiling. The United States may have trademarked…
Pete Wicks: The Existential Haircut Roaming a Planet on Fire By Dave’s Foreign Correspondent-at-Large, somewhere between duty-free vodka and the abyss In the grand, slow-motion car crash we politely call “current affairs,” certain names ricochet across the Anglosphere’s algorithmic echo chamber with the inexplicable persistence of a drunk uncle at a wedding. One such name…
FAYETTEVILLE, USA — Somewhere between the Ozarks and the Ozempic, the Arkansas Razorbacks are playing football again. That may sound like local color to most of the planet, but in an era when American college sports have become the last reliable export that doesn’t explode on the launchpad, the Razorbacks are—believe it or not—global news….
Texas: The World’s Favorite Cautionary Tale That Still Makes Money by Dave’s Foreign Correspondent, somewhere over the Atlantic with a lukewarm Bloody Mary If you watch the planet from 30,000 feet—preferably in business class, because who still flies coach voluntarily—Texas appears less like a U.S. state and more like a fever dream the rest of…
Stephen King: The Last American Export That Doesn’t Require a Shipping Container by our world-weary correspondent, filing from a mildewed motel somewhere east of everywhere He’s sold more than 500 million books, been translated into 60-odd languages, and inspired a global cottage industry of night-lights, therapy sessions, and clowns seeking safer career paths. Yet Stephen…
Notts County: The 160-Year-Old Football Club Teaching the World How to Survive Its Own Stupidity By Our Man in the East Midlands, nursing a lukewarm pint and déjà vu Meadow Lane, Nottingham – In a week when Silicon Valley titans were congratulating themselves for inventing the “metaverse pub” (basically a chat room with beer NFTs),…
PARIS—On the red-clay courts of Roland-Garros this week, a curious sideshow has been unfolding next to the strawberries-and-cream set: Donald Trump Tennis, an unofficial, unsanctioned, yet oddly magnetic phenomenon that began when the former U.S. president’s name was spotted on the reservation sheet of an indoor court in Palm Beach and then ricocheted across continents…
Yerevan—The Armenian capital smells of apricots, diesel, and the faint, metallic whiff of existential dread that hovers over any nation whose neighbor keeps tanks on the lawn. On Thursday night, that bouquet was joined by grilled sardines and Cristiano Ronaldo’s cologne as Portugal rolled into town for a Euro qualifier. The final score—Portugal 3, Armenia…
Tyrese Haliburton and the Quiet Americanization of the World’s Living Room By Dave’s Locker Foreign Desk When a 23-year-old from Oshkosh, Wisconsin—yes, the place that still manufactures overalls—drops 43 points on the NBA’s most marketable franchise while wearing sneakers named after a Japanese manga demon, you begin to understand why geopolitics now comes with a…
Andora—pronounced with the same breathy reverence a sommelier reserves for a 1945 Château Pétrus—has quietly become the planet’s most exclusive gated community that nobody can actually find on a reliable map. Tucked between two quarrelling Iberian neighbors who can’t even agree on ham regulations, the 468-square-kilometre sovereign speck is what happens when medieval real-estate arbitrage…
