“There are three types of curlers: the competitive, the prepubescent, and the beer-drinking. I have played with all three types in roughly equal measures.”
“The static cleared and the broadcast resumed. But I didn’t see the game. I didn’t see the court or the players or the ball. The screen was filled with a close-up of Larry Bird’s face.”
Few people know the story of how four Princetonians—Francis Lane, Herbert Jamison, Robert Garrett, and Albert Tyler—competed in the first modern Olympic Games, except perhaps the archivists at Mudd Library where Lane’s scrapbooks are kept.
Gregg Popovich doesn’t care what you think about him. The head coach of the San Antonio Spurs is famous for his stony demeanor, relentlessly curt interviews, and impeccable coaching record.
It’s the opening game of the 2014 NFL season and I’m at Buffalo Wild Wings with friends. As always for such events, the restaurant is packed. It’s a good mix of Seahawks and Packers jerseys and the pregame atmosphere is already buzzing.
Flanked by two shaven-headed handlers, Martin Brodeur sat at a rickety wooden table that looked slightly too small to be comfortable in a bookstore that has long since been put out business. Outside the store, devoted fans lined up for yards, standing in concentric loops in an adjacent strip mall, chattering excitedly or fidgeting with their fans’ jerseys—this was before smartphones dulled the pain of waiting on a line.
