Come to find out, as we approach the season of plump turkey legs and similar Santa Clauses, all is not well at ESPN. Turns out Joe Buck and Troy Aikman are having a hissy fit.
Will sports broadcasting ever be the same? As the late Chick Hearn would say, “Oh me, oh my.”
Buck and Aikman have broadcast various pro football games together for 25 years. They are Abbott and Costello, but not anywhere near as funny. You tune in just to wait for Joe to say, “I’m Joe Buck and this is Hall of Famer Troy Aikman.”
Kind of gives you goose bumps.
Fox Sports play-by-play announcer Joe Buck, left, and analyst Troy Aikman, right, work in the broadcast booth.
(Associated Press)
According to various reports, Joe went out and negotiated a new contract without telling Troy. Divorce lawyers are now circling the wagons.
The reports have Joe getting $108 million for six years. That’s around $17.5 million a year, so that Joe can tell us that one of the teams on the field needs to establish a run game. Golly.
Troy didn’t know about his buddy’s new deal, wasn’t happy not to know and reportedly doesn’t quite get that much, so there is little joy in Mudville’s press box. (OK, that’s baseball, but you get the point.)
If that kind of money ruffles your feathers a bit, at a time when you need to carry a blood pressure machine with you to the gas pump and grocery store, being paid around $17 million a year and having a hissy fit about it would seem to be a little tone deaf. Remember, these guys aren’t getting hit, they describing how others are.
Troy cut his broadcasting teeth by starring at quarterback at UCLA and the Dallas Cowboys. He knew what was going on when Peyton Manning yelled “Omaha.” Joe probably knew, too, when Troy told him. Joe cut his teeth by working his way up the ranks; also maybe by hanging around a lot when dad Jack Buck broadcast for years from most of the sacred citadels of sports.
Again, these guys don’t play, they talk.
Anyway, who ever said there were attempts to introduce perspective to sports via a broadcast team? No need. Take the stats the network intern kids are handing you and create drama with the tone of your voice, even though the picture from the field covers that better.
Of course there is homework to be done.
“We talked to wide receiver Jim Lightning-Fast yesterday and he said this team is ready for a big game.”
“Coach Harold Headset told us that this is the best week of practice this team has had all year.”
Then they can throw it down to a sideline reporter:
— “Coach, how do you feel about that flat first half by your team?” (The real answer: lousy).
— “Coach, what does it mean to you winning tonight’s game?” (Real answer: It means I won’t get fired this week).
Those stick-a-microphone-in-your-face interviews always bring to mind the way the great Gregg Popovich of the NBA’s San Antonio Spurs handled them. He was once asked how his team’s winning play happened. “We practiced it,” he said.
The Joe-Troy hissy fit takes on additional import because they are set to call the Feb. 14 Super Bowl at SoFi Stadium. ESPN has three and a half months to fix this, but there is speculation that even if the hissy fit isn’t settled, the game will go on.
How about this: Hire Peyton Manning to do the color commentary. He certainly knows football and he has that elusive thing that most of those in sports speaking into microphones lack. A sense of humor.
Pair him with the legendary Al Michaels, who is 81, also has a sense of humor and still brings it on Prime Ticket’s Thursday night game. Michaels knows more about baseball and football and yes, even hockey, than most of his younger peers.
But obviously, for that Manning-Michaels matchup to happen, we’d have to believe in miracles.
Looking over the edge of the snow-smoothed canyon down to dark rushing water, we thought we saw a moose or a reindeer, but it could have been a rock. The light was fading fast so it was hard to tell. It was time to turn back; we didn’t want to get lost in the wood, or fall into the river. By the time we’d retraced our steps to Abisko, the blue world had turned to black and dust-like snowflakes whirled around the little village. Back in our hotel room after our expedition, I looked at my phone – it was only 2pm!
Travelling to the Arctic Circle in winter had always been a dream, but when I realised the sun wouldn’t get above the horizon on my holiday, it made me twitchy. I usually pack my limited annual leave as tightly as I pack my working life. I was already using up three days’ holiday travelling by train from London to Abisko. How would I make the most of my time there with barely any daylight?
My partner and I chose to stop in this small village in Swedish Lapland almost by chance, when we researched the most northerly stops on the train line between Stockholm and Narvik. Abisko looked on the map like a tiny enclave surrounded by lakes and mountains. Reading more about it, we found that it was home to the Abisko blue hole – a unique microclimate where the geography creates frequent clear skies, making it one of the most reliable places on Earth to see the aurora borealis.
After a blur of cities and sleeper trains, we arrived at Abisko Ostra, a tiny station comprising just one low platform and a glass shelter over the exit door, at 11am. We jumped down from the high step of the carriage into soft, deep snow, our feet creating the only imprints on the length of the walkway. White mist hung all around us, and the couple of buildings we could see were fading into the sky. Apart from the icy train tracks cutting a sharp black detail, everything in the landscape appeared icing soft.
We walked along an empty road that curved up to the Abisko Mountain Lodge, one of a handful of accommodation options we had found online. Our room wasn’t quite ready, so we spent a while in the hotel’s warm, firelit bar watching people change into their outdoor gear then disappear into the cold. Knowing that darkness would soon set in, I was itching to get outside as well – while we could still see our surroundings.
By the time we were salopetted up, thick clouds had made the white world grey, but it was still everything my Christmas-film-loving inner child had imagined. The path we followed was lined with low lights glowing yellow against the white landscape, guiding us among houses with bright windows illuminating the dusk. We followed our phone map towards a viewpoint by a river. It was only half an hour’s walk, but in the deep snow it seemed much longer, and felt like walking through a thick white cloud.
We had expected to spend the day exploring. Instead, we’d somehow finished our outing before the afternoon had properly begun. Feeling the luxury of time stretching out, we made tea in our room and read for a while, but we still had plenty of time before dinner, so we went for a few rounds in the sauna.
Northern lights over Lake Torneträsk. Photograph: Tomasz Wozniak/Alamy
In the restaurant later, we heard an excited murmur among the diners. The aurora! We rushed out, wearing the clothes we’d been eating dinner in, and watched the green glow, our feet growing more and more numb. But the night was still young, so we got back into our cold-weather gear and walked up a path to higher ground where a family were making snow angels while watching nature’s light show. Their enthusiasm added to our excitement, and we found ourselves not wanting to look away from the dancing sky in case it got better or brighter. Our initial walk to the canyon felt like days ago but we’d only arrived 12 hours earlier.
The next day, after a long and leisurely breakfast of pickled herring, gherkins and lots of delicious rye bread, we hiked a few hours along the bank of Lake Torneträsk. The snow on the path was compact enough for us to explore in our hiking boots, but we saw a few adventurous groups snowshoeing through the wilderness. We followed a narrow path through bare silver birches weighed down with bulbous drifts, until we found a picnic spot near a frozen waterfall, where we enjoyed some provisions we’d squirreled away from the generous breakfast.
I did a double-take as I looked back at the way we had come. The sunrise-like colour seemed to be glowing in exactly the same way as when we’d set off, hours before. Unable to tell if it was morning or afternoon, I felt my sense of time opening up. The sun remained below the horizon, but its colourful glow hung in the sky for hours. The pinks and oranges slowly brightened, lingered, then imperceptibly began to fade. The ideas of dawn, midday and evening began to fade, too.
From the waterfall, we walked up to a high viewpoint and ate flapjacks as we watched the hidden sun cast a last ray of deep orange towards the horizon. We warmed up with hot chocolate in the Abisko Turiststation hotel, drying snow-damp clothes on a radiator before heading back into the cold. The stars were out by then – in the mid-afternoon. We took the long path back to the village and headed through the misty gloom towards the red neon sign and strip-light interior of the supermarket to stock up on snacks for the next day’s train journey.
The supermarket was designed for people likely to get snowed in, with lots of produce for sale in bulk, but we found delicious jars of pickled herring, cloudberry jam and more of the region’s dense rye bread to tide us over, along with a squeezy tube of cheese spread from the surprisingly varied range that covered almost a whole aisle. Back at our hotel, we had another sauna, then dinner, before a beer in the cosy hotel bar. Then we headed outside again. It had been dark for hours, but it was still only early evening.
The aurora over the lávvu-style building. Photograph: Camilla Yates
We were due to take a cable car up to Abisko Sky Station, a mountain viewpoint 900 metres (nearly 3,000ft) above sea level, but high winds meant the 20-minute cable car journey was too dangerous, so our evening’s plans changed shape. Our guide took us to an outcrop above Lake Torneträsk, where we got another spectacular show of the aurora, complete with shooting stars, courtesy of the Geminids. I have no idea how long we stood there, admiring the sky. I’d stopped trying to fit the holiday into my idea of what should be done when.
Later, we warmed up with reindeer soup in a building shaped like a traditional Sámi lávvu, a conical structure with a central fire for warmth and light. Our guide told us some of the myths and legends surrounding the aurora: that the lights were ancestors dancing, or a fox spirit running through the sky with snow attached to its tail. He also showed us the best forecasting apps to use, like the Aurora Buddy and My Aurora, and what all the bars on the various graphs meant. The northern lights lit the darkest part of our walk home.
I came to Abisko worrying that darkness would take something away from my trip, but instead it removed the boundaries that normally suggest what I should be doing when. When the distinction between night and day dissolved, there unexpectedly seemed to be more holiday in front of me. It felt like a surprisingly liberating way to travel.
ATLANTA — Two years after Kamala Harris lost the presidential election to Donald Trump, she still delights Democratic donors and activists with jabs against him, saying the Republican is “callous, corrupt and incompetent” and calling him the “decorator in chief” for his White House renovations and gold adornments.
The former vice president also has plenty to say about what her party, the electorate and the country should do next as she also considers whether to run again.
“This is the moment where we turn that anger into action,” Harris said more than once during a busy schedule in the final stretch of the midterm campaign.
Harris campaigned for candidates across seven states, ending with a recent two-day visit to Georgia. It was, in part, the kind of nostalgic tour seen from Barack Obama and Bill Clinton — two-term presidents whose last campaigns are behind them — and the barnstorming from potential future contenders such as Govs. Gavin Newsom of California and Andy Beshear of Kentucky and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York.
As the first Black woman elected to nationwide office, Harris urged fellow Black Americans to “honor the ancestors” with their votes. She also said she has become unapologetically “transactional” by demanding more from politicians.
Harris, a U.S. senator and attorney general from California before joining Joe Biden on the 2020 ticket, also pushed fellow Democrats to govern aggressively and she called for “structural work” that she said was necessary to reinvigorate American democracy: Supreme Court expansion, statehood for the District of Columbia and Puerto Rico, and reconsideration of the electoral college.
“I think she’s hitting all the right notes,” said Melinda Johnson, a retired nurse who attended a Fulton County Democratic Party fundraising gala that Harris headlined in Atlanta.
Harris made it to early presidential primary states, including Nevada, New Hampshire and Michigan. She also went to Mississippi, not exactly a hotbed of presidential politics, on behalf of U.S. Senate candidate Scott Colom.
“The South is in play,” she said. “When Democrats invest in the South, we can win in the South.”
In Georgia, Harris delved into civil rights history as she accused the U.S. Supreme Court of “backdoor racism” with its decision to gut the Voting Rights Act and allow Republicans to redraw boundaries for congressional districts that now elect nonwhite lawmakers.
“Ruthlessness” is key, she said at the Democratic dinner in Atlanta. “Not ruthlessness in the sense of cruelty … but in our willingness to use our power to deliver on our commitments.” Democrats, she said, “can no longer let process stand in the way of progress.”
Throughout her stops, Harris nodded implicitly to her loss to Trump.
“You know we’ve been spending the last year and a half, so many of us, going through a range of emotions,” she told students. “Anger, depression, sadness, frustration, a sense of helplessness and powerlessness.”
Warning that Trump could try to meddle in Tuesday’s election, she echoed one of the president’s mantras to encourage people to vote.
“In this case,” she said at Atlanta’s Elizabeth Baptist Church, “we just need to turn out in really large numbers that would be too big to rig.”
Tribute specials are always a bit macabre. They exist, and are sometimes quickly thrown together, to honor and celebrate an artist who impacted so many. They are also ratings and advertising cash grabs that air on major TV and streaming platforms.
“CMA Presents I Will Always Love You: A Celebration of Dolly Parton,” which aired Wednesday on ABC and Disney+, was a lovely tribute to the music and cultural icon who died from cancer in August. It also was a missed opportunity. As music superstar Vince Gill said toward the end of the two-hour program, “this is not a memorial; but a celebration of an undeniable force of nature. Dolly was somebody that everyone loved: City, country, young, old.”
But most likely because the event was put on by the Country Music Assn. — which naturally wanted to showcase its own talent — it lacked a chance to really celebrate that she and her music could not be contained by one genre.
This isn’t just ironic because Parton’s most-known song — a song that was both the title of the special and the end performance of it — was made all the more famous by Whitney Houston, another iconic performer and also one who happens to have been a woman a color and who did not have any other direct ties to the Nashville scene. Dolly herself, famously, appreciated so many other kinds of music. After her passing, Eminem shared on social media a letter she’d written to him to congratulate him on his 2022 induction to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.
“She definitely didn’t have to take the time to do it,” he said as part of the post. “Even for a kid who mostly listened to rap music, she was an icon. A superstar in every sense.”
That said, from Reba McEntire opening the show with stories of just how kind her friend was in real life to a pre-recorded tribute from Bono where his Irish accent briefly attempts to slip into a Southern one while emulating her conversations with him, there were some touching and memorable moments. We’ve rounded up five of them here:
Reba McEntire, “He’s Alive”
Technically, the song is meant to be the apostle Peter singing about Jesus Christ’s resurrection. But McEntire’s take on Parton’s take of the Don Francisco gospel brought in the very modern-day sense of fear that so many parents and partners feel when their loved ones go out to dangerous jobs or even just leave the house for school or concerts.
Carrie Underwood, “I Will Always Love You”
There’s no denying that this is a perfect song and that Underwood is a once-in-a-lifetime voice. And credit must be due to Underwood for pulling off an undertaking where any little slip would be pounced on by critics. But staging her to stand in front of one of the many animatronic butterflies that lined the stage in such a way that it looked like she had angel wings was … a choice.
Carly Pearce and Kristin Chenoweth, “9 to 5”
Both of these women, especially Tony winner Chenoweth, are masters of stage presence. Their banter with each other before singing, not to mention their duet itself, embraced the liveliness and feminine feminist-ness of that song.
Ella Langley, “Jolene”
This was not the most powerful performance of the night, as Langley seemed happier to dance on the stage than belt out the music. And it didn’t boil with the grief and seething rage of a scorned woman the way that Beyonce’s 2024 cover did. But it was nice to see a symbolic baton be passed to the “Choosin’ Texas” singer.
Zac Brown, “Butterfly”
Brown’s backstory of writing, and then recording, what would become his 2025 duet with Parton came off as sweet and genuine. It also helped it not feel awkward or gratuitous when he and the producers opted not to recast the Parton half of the song and instead let her voice carry through the speakers.
LONDON — It’s the day after the London premiere of “Sense and Sensibility,” and its stars, Daisy Edgar-Jones and Esmé Creed-Miles, have shed the glamour of the evening before. Both are curled in chairs in an otherwise empty room in an upscale Hyde Park Corner hotel, modestly dressed in jeans, sneakers and casual tops. Each drinks from an enormous glass bottle of water rather than wasting time with a cup.
The spectacle of a blockbuster red carpet is familiar for Edgar-Jones, whose career took off after the 2020 limited series “Normal People” and has since included “Where the Crawdads Sing” and “Twisters.” But last night marked the biggest such occasion so far for Creed-Miles, best known for the Prime series “Hanna.”
“I was a bit nervous with my friends and family all there,” admits Creed-Miles, who plays the more emotional of Jane Austen’s Dashwood sisters, Marianne. “I’m very lucky because Daisy has done it before and she’s so cool about it.”
“Absolutely not,” says Edgar-Jones, who plays the sensible Elinor. She grins sheepishly. “If anything, I think I’m getting more nervous.”
Both actors understood the high stakes of remaking Austen’s 1811 debut novel, most famously adapted in 1995 by screenwriter and star Emma Thompson and director Ang Lee — a movie that became a generational touchstone nominated for seven Oscars. The new version, in theaters Friday, was adapted by Diana Reid and directed by Georgia Oakley, best known for her evocative 2022 feature debut, “Blue Jean.”
Oakley wanted to re-create the emotions of reading the book as a teenager.
“In comparison to other Austen novels, I remember it feeling quite wild,” Oakley says, speaking separately over Zoom. “I also wanted to capture the spirit of the two older sisters as the beating heart of the story. My memory of it was that their story was the main love story of the book.”
Daisy Edgar-Jones, left, as Elinor and Esmé Creed-Miles as Marianne in a new version of “Sense and Sensibility.”
(Focus Features)
Oakley’s “Sense and Sensibility” emphasizes that relationship between Elinor and Marianne. Although they approach the world differently, they find common ground in each other. It was essential to find the right actor for each role, but also to ensure there was both tension and chemistry between them. Edgar-Jones, 28, was cast first without an audition. There was never any question as to which sister she would play.
“I have played a significant Marianne before,” Edgar-Jones says in a nod to affluent, tortured outcast Marianne Sheridan, her role in “Normal People.” “And I love both characters, but I’m moving into my late 20s now. Elinor has a maturity and a wise older soul quality that I really liked and felt I was right to occupy. I have always been attracted to characters who don’t necessarily have the words to express how they feel.”
Oakley appreciated Edgar-Jones’ restraint. “She is able to show so much by seemingly doing very little,” Oakley says. “Elinor has a lot on her shoulders, so I was looking for an actor who could give a sense of that from the very beginning.”
Creed-Miles, 26, faced a more uphill climb to become Marianne. She describes her first audition as awful.
“It was really bad,” she says. “Maybe I was nervous. I can be a bit of a mess. But someone saw something in me, I guess, and they called me back. This time I worked my ass off and spent days preparing the scenes. They liked that audition enough to bring me in for chemistry reads with Daisy and some of the boys.”
“There’s an earthy, undone nature to the world Georgia made,” Edgar-Jones says of director Oakley’s take on Austen.
(Erik Carter / For The Times)
“The first audition didn’t go exactly to plan,” says Oakley, who didn’t expect to see the actor again. “But [the second time] I was so moved by Esmé performance. We have this idea of how we think people are supposed to speak in a period drama, and Esmé seemed to not be affected by any of that.”
Edgar-Jones and Creed-Miles had previously worked together on the 2018 drama “Pond Life,” which was an asset going into “Sense and Sensibility.”
“It’s a summer I have never forgotten,” Edgar-Jones says of the experience, her first film role. “I met Esmé and we fell in love. We watched a lot of ‘Love Island.’ And then COVID happened and we weren’t reunited until our chemistry read.”
Although they hadn’t completely stayed in touch, there was a natural rhythm between them. “We had so much history and nothing was ever overly discussed,” Edgar-Jones adds. “It was instinctual. That level of intimacy takes time to develop and the fact that I already had years with Esmé meant that it felt very lived in.”
“Sense and Sensibility” was filmed entirely on location around England, primarily in the sweeping countrysides and dramatic coasts of Devon and Dorset. Oakley wanted to emphasize nature and to show how the Dashwood women’s emotional landscapes evolved alongside the shifting landscapes around them, both in the countryside at Barton Cottage and in the more confining social landscape of London. There is a naturalistic aesthetic to the film, augmented by the locations, the costumes and the hair and makeup design. The characters wear muted, sweeping gowns, their hair often loose.
“There’s an earthy, undone nature to the world Georgia made,” Edgar-Jones says. “Sometimes there’s distance you can sometimes get from watching a period drama because obviously we no longer wear corsets and bonnets and ride in horse-drawn carriages. But even though this feels very much of the Regency time, it also feels very close.”
“I loved how authentic everything felt,” Creed-Miles adds. “It didn’t feel frilly for the sake of itself. The clothes helped me find a sense of Marianne. I needed the costumes to close that gap.”
“We wore no makeup, even to the point where sometimes I’d put on some lip balm and Georgia would be like, ‘Take it off,’ ” Edgar-Jones recalls.
“The characters started to feel like real people in my life who I knew,” says Creed-Miles. “It was almost like a split personality.”
(Erik Carter / For The Times)
Creed-Miles says the unbuttoned aesthetic felt more true to the time, even if some commenters online have claimed it’s not period accurate.
“We don’t have depictions of women’s internal lives in the way that we do now,” she says. “When you look at a portrait there’s a composure that’s not the same as having a phone picture of someone when they’re getting out of bed in the morning.”
Oakley fills the screen with a palpable yearning. The camera often lingers over the actors’ faces, revealing Elinor’s inner turmoil and Marianne’s dramatic heartbreak. For many scenes, Oakley asked the cast to do silent takes.
“We wanted to tell a story that had space for some quieter moments,” the director says. “The actors were free to speak or make noises, but they couldn’t say the words of the scene.”
“In making this, I realized Elinor isn’t devoid of emotion,” Edgar-Jones says. “She’s full of it, but she’s learned how to govern it. Realizing that she was an extraordinarily passionate person and not a stone was really important for me. By the end, I felt completely marinated in it.”
“The characters started to feel like real people in my life who I knew,” Creed-Miles agrees. “It was almost like a split personality.”
“Circumstances have changed for young women quite drastically over the past 200 years,” director Oakley says. “But the fundamental contradictions around what it means to be a young woman haven’t changed nearly as much as we would like to think.”
(Erik Carter / For The Times)
Oakley’s interpretation of “Sense and Sensibility” has a wistful, almost Brontë-like quality. You can feel each character’s pain and joy and hopefulness. At the premiere, the audience audibly gasped and cheered, even though Austen’s story is well known to many. Oakley didn’t want to make her film overly contemporary, but she feels the story resonates today because Austen is so timeless.
“Circumstances have changed for young women quite drastically over the past 200 years,” Oakley says. “But the fundamental contradictions around what it means to be a young woman haven’t changed nearly as much as we would like to think. There’s this enormous gap between what we tell young women that they can reasonably expect from their lives and what the world is prepared to offer them.”
Creed-Miles admits that she’s recently fought with someone on Instagram about whether Austen was a feminist.“They didn’t have that terminology back then, but she was a rebellious author in that she used these sociocultural structures to explore the trials and tribulations of femininity,” Creed-Miles says. “It was really important to Georgia that we kept that alive. Reading Austin as an adult, I have so much respect and admiration for the themes she was exploring with a really deft hand. It’s never rammed down your throat.”
Edgar-Jones, an Austen fan, agrees that she captured a truth about the human experience. That’s what allows the author’s work to be retold and reimagined over decades.
“The joy of adaptation is that every new person who says these words will bring a piece of themselves and give it new meaning,” Edgar-Jones says. “And every time we explore something again, it will be colored with the context of today. Great art, like this, should be brought to life again and again.”