Last time I played there, obviously it was a traumatic experience for me. I'm not like thrilled to go back and play there. It's going to have to be this Thursday, I'm not thrilled about it.
Leigh Steinberg has worked for five decades as a sports agent, particularly in the NFL and most notably with franchise quarterbacks. He doesn't need to do celebrity name-dropping; the evidence is all around him. On his shelf is a picture of him with Barack Obama. There's one of him with Julia Roberts on the set of Ocean's Eleven.
"I do hate him," Morales told Alvaro Colemenoro. "We don't have a very good vibe. But at the end of the day, he's still a fighter. I'm not gonna get overconfident if I had to prepare myself to fight him... That fight is gonna be intense if it happens... I think that if I were to fight him, it would be the first time that I would fight in a very aggressive way."
In this playoff season, I try to shut my eyes to products featured in commercial time-outs. You've seen them? The cryptic medicines to treat unspecified ailments? The pickup trucks and beer brands that signal ruggedness and romantic success. Or more tempting, the gooey-delectable double-cheese-pepperoni pizzas with yet more cheese stuffed in the crust. But one other caught my ear for novel English usage. Namely, the new infinitive "to fan."
On a Wednesday in the desert last March, Reilly Opelka, the American with a cannon of a serve, was grinding out a tough match against French number one Arthur Rinderknech. Nearby, former US Open men's finalist Kei Nishikori beat Luca Nardi, part of the new wave of Italian talent, while Brazilian phenom Joao Fonseca closed out Pavel Kotov, who reached number 50 in the world in 2024.
A pro wrestling crowd broke out into a F*ck ICE chant in the middle of a match during Wednesday night's AEW event in Las Vegas. AEW, the WWE's top competitor, held its weekly show AEW Dynamite at Las Vegas's T-Mobile Arena. During the show's main event between Brody King and Maxwell Jacob Friedman (also known as MJF), the crowd suddenly got a chant going.
Turns out the sci-fi filmmakers got it backwards. All those '70s and '80s dystopias like "Rollerball," "The Running Man," "Death Race 2000," imagined futures in which sports were full of gadgets and gimmicks like armored cars, rocket-powered motorbikes, and electrified arenas. In reality, we got the opposite - the padding's gone, and the high-tech monitoring equipment is nowhere to be found.
Yes, if your main intersection with pro wrestling was the late-'90s boom on U.S. cable TV, then you definitely saw a product rife with misogyny and homophobia. But it's a much more inclusive hobby than it used to be, and I tell people who I want to convince to go to an independent show with me that they should expect something like a comic-con atmosphere, not a frat house.
The older I get, the more profoundly I appreciate that, when I'm writing about sport, I'm also writing about love. This makes perfect sense given these are mankind's two greatest inventions and the stuff we can least do without, but there's more to it than that: sport and love are both expressions of identity, creativity and devotion, pursued because they are right but also because it's impossible not to.
The first Monday Night RAW of 2026 came live from the Upside Down, and the Barclays Center in Brooklyn. The Stranger Things themed episode of Monday Night Raw aired on what was the first anniversary of WWE's flagship show airing on Netflix. The show, which featured three title matches, two title changes and a showstopping main event, gave a small glimpse into what 2026 could look like for WWE and Monday Night RAW.