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Goodbye Joe Dog

JoeDog Laurent. 1999-2013. RIP buddy.
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An Inordinate Fondness for Lilith Sternin-Crane

There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just come out with it. I appear to have developed a (hopefully passing) infatuation with a fictional character from a TV show that ended 20 years ago.

OK, it's good to get that off my chest. But perhaps some elucidation is in order. Read More 
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Live from Macau

ESPN's Bernardo Osuna and I doing our thing for the cameras at the aforementioned Pacquiao-Rios bout in Macau. Yes, Bernardo is wearing a suit, and I am wearing an unbuttoned jacket and jeans. This is because Bernardo is a TV professional. And I ... am not.

As for the Macau experience itself: with the benefit of having shed the jetlag, it was a positive one. Neither I nor many (if any) of the US-based colleagues who made the trip ever fully shook off the effects of travel during the week or so we were there; and, as noted in the post below, inside the property itself, the ambiance was Las Vegas on steroids - albeit with a somewhat different clientele. But the crowd was appreciative, the fight day atmosphere was festive, and unusually for such events I had the opportunity to explore the area a little. This may be but the first big-time venture in the region, as I explained in this piece I wrote for ESPN.comRead More 
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A New Frontier

I've been covering fights for 10 years now, which is hard enough for me to wrap my head around. All but one of the fights I've covered in that time have been in the United States (the exception being a light-heavyweight title fight in Montreal in 2011). That latter factoid will need updating a week from now; tomorrow, I head to Macau to cover a bout between Manny Pacquiao and Brandon Rios. Truth be told, I'm not entirely sure quite what to expect, other than a lot of jetlag. Judging from the photos of the host venue - the Venetian Macao - it might not be too much of a culture shock. Read More 
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The Golden Oil

In the bottle, fresh olive oil - by which i mean truly fresh, straight-from-the-organic-mill olive oil, looks if anything a little like fetid swamp water: green and uninspiring. Pour it onto a plate of bread and it is immediately transformed, a bright shining gold.

I have just spent a few days in Paciano, Italy, where just about every family has its own olive trees and makes its own oil. I'll be returning next month for a longer spell, to research an article for The Washington Post Magazine.  Read More 
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