Jamie Erdahl: How a Sideline Reporter Accidentally Became the Voice of Post-Imperial Melancholy By Dave’s Locker Foreign Desk, still jet-lagged in three time zones If you were sipping ouzo in an Athens taverna last September and heard the table next to you dissecting the Dallas Cowboys’ red-zone efficiency, you can blame Jamie Erdahl. The 36-year-old…
Laura Rutledge: The Sideline Oracle in a World That Forgot the Score By our man in the cheap seats, somewhere between Atlanta and existential dread If you’ve ever tried explaining American college football to a Parisian bartender at 3 a.m.—a rite of passage for any self-loathing correspondent—you’ll know the sport’s cosmology bends faster than light…
DAKORIEN MOORE: THE AMERICAN TEENAGER WHO BECAME A GLOBAL CONVERSATION PIECE ABOUT VIOLENCE, VIRALITY, AND THE BANALITY OF EVERYTHING By the time Dakorien Moore’s name was being autocorrected in three alphabets and mispronounced by a French news anchor live on air, the 17-year-old from Baton Rouge had already achieved the only true international currency left:…
Dan Lanning: How a 37-Year-Old Football Coach Became the Planet’s Most Reluctant Diplomat In the grand tradition of humans assigning cosmic importance to men who scream about blocking schemes, Dan Lanning has been elevated from mere American football coach to a walking foreign-relations metaphor. The University of Oregon’s head coach—who still looks like he should…
Gary Danielson: How One Man’s Microphone Became a Global Geopolitical Barometer KABUL—While the Taliban were busy redecorating their new Ministry of Virtue with seized American gym equipment, a 71-year-old from Detroit was quietly causing more trans-Atlantic agitation than a misplaced aircraft carrier. Gary Danielson, CBS Sports’ resident college-football analyst, has spent four decades describing 18-to-22-year-olds…
The sun never sets on the British Empire’s capacity to export breakfast DJs. Somewhere between the last imperial hangover and the first oat-milk flat white, Greg James—yes, the chap who sounds like your most affable boarding-school prefect—has become a minor global utility, a sonic Post-it note reminding the planet that somewhere it is already 7:09…
Melbourne’s Docklands Stadium—known, with the same straight-faced nationalism that names a 24-hour convenience store “The Great Australian Dream”—hosts the 2024 AFL Grand Final this Saturday. While the locals call it “the biggest day on the national calendar,” the rest of the planet, preoccupied with wars, bond yields, and the slow-motion TikTok suicide of attention spans,…
Robin Roberts, the woman who has spent more than two decades coaxing pre-caffeinated Americans into facing the day, is not a head of state, a Nobel laureate, or even—remarkably—someone with a verified TikTok dance. Yet from Lagos to Lisbon, her name has quietly slipped into the global vernacular as shorthand for unflappable optimism and, more…
Dateline Tonight: The World Checks Its Watch While Rome (and Everywhere Else) Burns By the time the chyron reads “Dateline Tonight,” it is already tomorrow in Auckland, half-past tragedy in Kyiv, and the usual cocktail hour in Washington. The phrase itself—so portentous, so American—now travels the globe like a tourist with an expired visa, promising…
John Torode and the Global Cult of the Celebrity Chef: A Cautionary Tale from the Culinary Colosseum In the grand amphitheater of modern media—where Instagram filters replace velvet curtains and Michelin stars have become geopolitical bargaining chips—John Torode stands as both ringmaster and sacrificial lamb. The Australian-born, London-based chef has transcended his role as mere…
Ryder Cup Radio: The 18-Hole Soap Opera That Unites and Divides the Globe by Our Man with a Hangover in the Media Centre If you tune in to Ryder Cup Radio this September you will hear three things above the polite smattering of applause: the thwack of a Titleist, the sigh of a continent, and…
Chicken Shop Diplomacy: How Amelia Dimoldenberg Accidentally Became Soft Power in a Deep-Fried World By Dave’s Locker Foreign Desk LONDON—In the grand, gilded tradition of British exports—colonialism, the Beatles, and whatever Boris Johnson is—comes Amelia Dimoldenberg, a 30-year-old journalist armed only with a microphone, a deadpan stare, and the caloric equivalent of a NATO stockpile….
