Articles

The afternoon symphony of car horns below my hotel window didn’t make for much of a lullaby, but then, this hadn’t been much of an assignment. I’d come to Brooklyn as a favor, to help a rookie basketball P.I. investigate a CYO point-shaving operation, which turned out to be just one kid with an anxiety problem and another who thought it was un-Christian to blow a team out.

The NBA free agent period has been as busy and spend-y as ever. But what's been most notable is how weirdly reasonable it has been. Can everyone here play this game?

Brett Favre did not leave things on the best of terms with the Green Bay Packers or their fans. But, for a variety of reasons, everyone involved is working towards letting those bygones be bygone. They'll all be a lot happier, and a lot lighter, when the peace is finally made, and Favre's number four is finally retired.

David Roth

 et al.

A frank colloquy on productive outs, unproductive PED investigations, sleepy free-associating announcers and the ongoing search of Los Angeles Times columnist T.J. Simers for someone, anyone, in the Los Angeles Angels clubhouse who will punch him in the nose.

Whatever club, whatever sport, the close season (or for those unfamiliar with the Queen’s English, “off season”) provides an extraordinary gift of hope: our past mistakes are excused, we start again. How often in life might we wish for that?

Andy Murray is, after a long and difficult rise, a Wimbledon champion. We can only guess at what it was he figured out that allowed him to get there. That's a champion's prerogative, and seems especially right in this case.

Marion Bartoli doesn't look or act much like the sort of tennis player who winds up being a Wimbledon Champion. All of which made her jittery, redemptive Wimbledon win that much more fun to watch.

Even the most loathsome of truly great players can merit a winsome backward glance once their skills atrophy; Roy Halladay, the stand-up dude who issued a public apology to Phillies fans for sucking, is far from loathsome. He is also, it seems, pretty much gone.

Bill Simmons started a beef with Doc Rivers on very vague grounds and out of a very ESPN impulse. It was squashed just a few days later. He's figuring this TV thing out fast.

Nairo Quintana is the second-youngest rider and only South American in the peloton at the Tour de France. He's also the race's most fascinating unknown, and the closest thing cycling has to the paradigm-smashing multidimensional weirdness of Russell Westbrook.