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Cemeteries (Sarajevo I)

There are cemeteries everywhere in Sarajevo.  Some are large, like the Kovaći cemetery on the east side of the city, located just below the hill of the Yellow Bastion. Some are ancient, like the nearly 500-year-old Jewish Cemetery, the largest of its kind in Southeast Europe; it contains graves dating back nearly five hundred years, when Bosnia was one of the few places in Europe where Jews were welcomed. Some are tiny, small squares of grass located in the midst of the city or visible on a hilltop high above. During the war, residents converted “ parks, schoolyards, gardens, alleyways ” into burial grounds for the nearly 12,000 military and civilian fatalities. As a prominent Sarajevo funeral director proclaimed at the end of the war, “Sarajevo is the biggest graveyard in the world”. The solemn gravestones and tombs provide a captivating glimpse into this ancient city’s history, into the life and death of its denizens through the centuries. And the countless graves bearing numbers...
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A Visit to Goodison Park

On Friday I visited Goodison Park to watch an Everton match, fulfilling a dream birthed nearly six years ago, when I set off on my journey as a fan of the Blues. It’s been quite a ride. There have been incredible highs – that first year under Roberto Martinez, Jagielka’s screamer against Liverpool, Lukaku’s emasculation of Young Boys. Naismith’s perfect hattrick against Chelsea, Oumar Niasse showing up Ronald Koeman by scoring two late goals as a substitute in a comeback victory, Rooney’s storybook return at the start of last year. But this is Everton we’re talking about, so there also been miserable lows. Epic collapses – from John Terry’s late “equalizer” to the match against Bournemouth, to THAT goal against Liverpool. Drubbings, like the 4-0 away fixture at Anfield, our evisceration by Yarmolenko in Kyiv, 5-0 against Chelsea. Consistent inconsistency, frequently embarrassing performances against bottom-feeders, the grim acceptance of the gap between us and the “b...

World Cup Final Preview -- France vs. Croatia

If past history is anything to go by, nearly half the world will be watching tomorrow morning as France take on Croatia in the World Cup Final. I've attempted to pour my love for football into an informative piece detailing what to look for tomorrow--whether you love football or are a casual interested in the human side of the game.  For those interested in learning more, Reddit is an incredible place to look-- r/soccer is an excellent source of discussion, highlights, and news, r/footballhighlights  is an amazing way to catch up on (or rewatch) past matches. The Players' Tribune is also amazing for human interest stories, their recent World Cup project of particular interest. France Nickname: Les Bleus Manager: Didier Deschamps (captained the victorious 1998 team) Previous Highest WC Finish: 1998 (champions) The Story This France squad came to Russia as one of the most talented teams in the tournament--with the incredible French talent developmen...

Elements of a Choke Job

I absolutely hate choke jobs. I really do.  That being said, I’ve been witness to enough botch jobs in my 17+ years as a sports fan that I have many hypotheses about why they happen. And after bearing witness to one of the all-time chokes in yesterday’s Manchester Derby thriller , I decided I’d put pen to paper and jot down my thoughts on the common themes when teams blow games.  (As a disclaimer, none of this is scientific, empirical, or otherwise backed up by anything more than my memory & intuition. I’m not Nate Silver, and I have no desire to be. That dude does data, I tell stories.) The Elements of a Choke Job (or, "Why Teams Blow Big Leads") Squandering Chances to Put a Game to Bed Halftime, the bane of momentum Not Stopping the Flow   [ Context for the uninitiated: In European football, a derby is the name for a match between two teams from the same city. The Manchester Derby is one of the most famous ones in moder...

Tokyo, Tokyo

If London is the most successful city in the world, Paris is its most cultured, and New York is its capital of business—what is Tokyo? It’s hard to say. This is a city that resists definition, one that refuses to be limited to just one of the multitudinous boxes that we use to label cities. To a certain extent, that’s true of any big city in the world, but this is something that is particularly tangible here, at the heart of what may be the most amazing city I’ve ever been to.  Now, that’s a bold claim to make, especially given the places I’ve been lucky to have gone in my life. But as I stood atop Tokyo Tower’s main observation deck, looking about, I couldn’t think of a better word to describe my feeling than awe. There’s no doubt—Tokyo is an amazing, amazing place. There’s so much that blows me away about Tokyo; here are a few of the most salient things: Size Tokyo is  a true megalopolis, center of the world’s biggest metropolitan area by popu...

Up the Foxes: Appreciating Leicester City and the Greatest Sports Story Ever Told

Imagine the chaos that would ensue if the miserable Cleveland Browns (3-13 last year) won the 2017 Super Bowl. Or if the utterly hapless Philadelphia 76ers, who finished in the gutters of the NBA for a second year running, miraculously notched the league’s best record next year. It would be sheer pandemonium, for such things simply do not happen. That’s not to say that upsets are uncommon in sports—far from it. And every year seems to have its Cinderella story—where a team pegged to flop somehow outperforms even its wildest dreams. Both of these are part of the magic that makes sports worth watching, the enchantment that keeps audiences glued to their televisions and rooted to their seats week after week. After all, who doesn’t love a good fairy tale? And as far as fairy tales go, few in the past century have been as remarkable as Leicester City’s legendary escape from relegation in 2015. With eight matches to go, the Foxes sat at the bottom of the Premier League, having gone...

Paris, je t'aime

The sky over Paris is a cozy shade of pastel blue, scarcely marred by grey. It was raining hard when you set out for the day, the brooding skies drenching the city with a sullen ferocity. Your feet were soaked by the time you stumbled into the falafel joint just before noon, backpack a sodden mess as you descended the steps of Saint-Paul station a few hours later. The rain had lightened up as you leaned over the edge of the Arc de Triomphe, eyes enraptured by the view down the expansive Champs-Elysées. It had stopped completely when you stepped out of a café onto a crooked back street, the taste of fromage and mushrooms lingering on your lips. But the heavens above were no less bleak than they had been all day. But that grey is but a faded memory as you sit this evening atop the hill of Belleville, a quickly receding cloudmass behind you. In its place is the azure expanse before you, a sweeping landscape dominated by two magnificent centerpieces. Above, the ...