The Colts defeat the Falcons in Berlin, even though Drake London catches damn near everything.

Ladies and gentlemen, goyles and ghouls: Geese — the best fucking rock band in the world.

The Giants are finally fun again, LFG Zohran Mamdani, and other stories.

Paul Thomas Anderson, for sure now, is the pre-eminent director of our times.

This Week in Fandom: we’re moving to Substack, kiddo!

Seeking deliverance, for a friend, before it's too late.

On the eve of Tottenham Hotspur Vs Manchester United, somewhere in Bilbao.

To the colleague in the unfortunate position of rather disliking Wes Anderson.

I love the Cubbies. I kinda disliked ‘Sinners’. Everybody adores me in pubs. And other daydreams.

Maybe it’s time to end the age of the anti-hero.

I think I fell in love with Newcastle United … in Frankfurt.

Brady Corbet’s monster of a film ends up eating itself alive.

Winter is for stumbling into theatres and keeping your jacket on. I saw Queer and A Different Man.

A time-out for the NBA, happy holidays for the NFL, and other gut feelings.

Spurs poop the bed, again, and Juan Soto chooses the Mets.

Mirror, Mirror, on the wall/ Who’s the streamiest of them all?

I watched sports in weird places, and wished there was tanking in the Premier League.

Industry’s third season accurately predicts an ugly and desperate world.

The sensational Drake Maye, the Knicks in theory, and the defensive perils of Ange-Ball.

Fans and cynics alike deserve better than Folie à Deux.