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<strong></strong>Crowning Tom Brady as the greatest athlete is American exceptionalism, but there is truth to the hyperbole
Sport

Crowning Tom Brady as the greatest athlete is American exceptionalism, but there is truth to the hyperbole

    The most skin-crawling moment of every NFL season is, without fail, as the winners of the Super Bowl are announced unironically as “world champions”. American sports repeatedly make it their prerogative to universalise their champions for us, and for that – of course – we are eternally ungrateful. Why bother with the formalities of actual global competition when it can be kindly circumvented by the red, white and blue, a national anthem, a fly over and an overzealous commentator? Now, this isn’t to say that the Tampa Bay Buccaneers aren’t the best American football team in the world, they would clearly beat any other team from any other country. It’s just to suggest that crowning a world champion without a world championships is a painful and self-congratulatory charade. It is Ameri...
<strong></strong>The impossible inevitability of Super Bowl 55
Sport

The impossible inevitability of Super Bowl 55

  I’m taking revisionist liberties, I admit, but the road to Super Bowl 55 was an impossible inevitability; a perfect truth inaccessible all season-long, but which now feels so painfully and eternally obvious. That we were tempted to believe, even for a second, despite all that’s happened, in a reality in which the Kansas City Chiefs do not arrive in Tampa Bay on Sunday, feels almost blasphemous. It is easy to paint Patrick Mahomes as the miraculous and Tom Brady as the meticulous. The former with his ecstatic explosions of arm-strength, and the latter with his relentlessly methodical drives. But, what ultimately makes this match-up so intriguing is that Brady, thinking of championships rather than cliff-edges, remains entirely capable of the miraculous, shown by his long touchdown to Sc...
Editorial: The Grand Old Party’s Last Gasp
US Politics

Editorial: The Grand Old Party’s Last Gasp

They know the President is toast. But can the GOP even survive defeat when they bet it all on Trump? THE moment Republicans threw open arms around their presidential nominee in 2016, in an act of political desperation, the Grand Old Party (GOP) began its metamorphosis into the Cult of Trump. Moderate Republicans distanced themselves from their own party in disgust as Trump's misinformation, incompetence and shameless bombast became the norm. Those that remained either capitulated like invertebrates in pathetic fealty to their new leader, like Lindsey Graham and Ted Cruz, or came to receive the relentless ire of Trump's bullying rhetoric, like John McCain or Jeff Flake. The metamorphosis was complete: Trump, just like a gangland mob boss, owned the Republican Party, from the party machinery...