Let’s leave aside the obvious for a moment — Jorge Martin’s injury, Pecco Bagnaia’s defrocking, Marc Marquez reclaiming the best bike on the grid, KTM’s financial stay of execution, the whole Liberty Media court case, CryptoData’s now expectedly collapsed vendetta against RNF — and focus instead on one very specific type of person: the much coveted theoretical fan of MotoGP who lives in the world’s largest market for sports entertainment.
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“I don’t do anything that’s scary.” – Nico Harrison, Dallas Mavericks general manager, February 2nd, 2025, right after taking one of the wildest, most inexplicable swings in NBA history.
Firstly, no: I have no idea why the Dallas Mavericks would do this, “this” being trading Luka Dončić for Anthony Davis, which is exactly what they did late Saturday night. Secondly, yes: I do think LeBron and Luka can work it out as an oversized Tatum-Brown spanning generations and leading a dynamite offense, if only anybody on the Lakers could defend anymore.
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The very first sound anyone hears on the Band’s debut LP Music From Big Pink is that of an organ, melancholically ascending ahead of introducing the other instruments and Richard Manuel’s voice, a kind of knock on the front door from an old friend. It’s sad and haunting, familiar and forlorn, an extension of Bob Dylan’s “wild, thin mercury” sound of Blonde On Blonde.
“Tears of Rage” opens Big Pink, having traversed from a slow folk grind in Dylan’s hands on The Basement Tapes to a steady, driving lament. Behind the organ was the oldest and last remaining member of the Band, Garth Hudson, who passed away in his sleep on Tuesday morning in Woodstock at 87.
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One thing that you need to know about my viewing of A Complete Unknown was that I saw it with a couple of coworkers from college work-study in the heart of Times Square on Christmas Day. Later on that night, I ate some of the best risotto I’ve ever had at the home of a separate college friend from the same job in Astoria. It was a normal day, before I rung the fallout shelter bell.
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The first time I got an inkling it had gone right, not left, was when a woman cloaked head to toe in MAGA gear boarded the bus on my ride home. I’ll leave aside the notable aspect that this was a bus in downtown Chicago after 11 at night: Sat alone all the way up front, I happened to notice over her shoulder from rows back that she was glued to her phone watching a map of projections that had the country awash in red. At such a remove and with my eyesight not exactly up to the task, it was impossible for me to tell which channel she was streaming, but to make the rest of my long ride home from Thalia Hall less mentally taxing — and taking in some very conspicuous context clues — I figured it was Newsmax.
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“A lot of bullshit happens in this country. But a lot of great things happen, too.” – Kevin Durant, speaking in Paris. Not initially sure which country he’s referring to, between the host and his own; anyway, he’s right.
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The only outdoor running event worse is the 400m hurdles. Aside from that? Being told that an event is “basically an even mix of running and sprinting” shouldn’t inspire someone to want that. Sprinters and longer distance runners throw up doing it when cross-training.
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It’s about Jaylen and Jayson, to be clear, but we’ll return to them. Everybody else involved with this Celtics run made it possible. To follow the blueprint for what the Spurs and Sixers were looking for in essence, and then pull it off as efficiently as they did, has to be maddening to detractors. Nevertheless, Boston was the best team in the league all season. It turns out: that means all season.
After seven years of will-they, won’t-they together, Jaylen Brown and Jayson Tatum finally put it together, albeit with the help of Jrue Holiday and Kristaps Porzingis, as well as mainstays returned or otherwise in Al Horford, Peyton Pritchard, Sam Hauser and Derrick White. Brad Stevens ran his game on the rest of the NBA. Now, finally, the Boston Celtics are the NBA champions.
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One of the myriad curiosities concerning the NBA logo is not that Jerry West was the basis – he definitely was, with only the league itself refusing to acknowledge that on account of its own copyright concerns – but more why he was the basis when it was designed in 1969, before he’d won even a single championship, nevermind an MVP. Wilt Chamberlain was the flash name; Bill Russell and Bob Cousy were the gold standard winners. George Mikan, the game’s first superstar, would also have been an option[1].
Instead, they chose a stencil based on a magazine cover, and West earned a nickname with no tie to his birthplace: “Zeke From Cabin Creek” (He was actually from Chelyan). Eventually, painstakingly, he would win a title as a player, and then several more in various roles with several of the best teams in NBA history. On Wednesday morning, the Los Angeles Clippers, the last team for which he worked after a tireless life in basketball, announced that West had passed away at 86.
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“I don’t even know if I can say this, but: that call sucked, SVP.”
Andraya Carter spoke for all of us Friday night in breaking down the decisive moving screen foul that ended UConn’s NCAA Tournament run. After an incredible game in which both of Caitlin Clark and Paige Bueckers were pushed to their respective limits, the referees had the last say in what was what.
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Tuesdays With Horry 