In Texas, football is everything—even among 12-year-olds:
"'Celdon is the best eleven-year-old football player in America,' Ronnie Braxton, his trainer, told me. 'In America.' Celdon isn’t the first youth football player to inspire that kind of claim. But when he hit the pile, his powerful legs churning furiously as he wormed his way through the defenders, the assessment seemed indisputable. As the referees pulled everyone off the pile and found Celdon lying in the end zone, his teammates began hopping up and down, and one of the grandmas in the stands rang a cowbell, and the Hawks cheerleaders—yes, the Hawks have cheerleaders—shook their metallic red-and-black pompoms, and the sound system that Coach Engel had rigged up with two car batteries and an ice chest began pumping out triumphal music, and I abandoned journalistic objectivity to throw my arms in the air and cheer until my throat hurt. How does it feel to watch a running back from the best preteen football team in the most football-mad city in Texas exert his will? It’s so beast."
PUBLISHED: Jan. 1, 2013
LENGTH: 34 minutes (8699 words)
The next phase of George Lucas's career, the making (and studios' rejection) of his new Tuskegee Airmen film Red Tails, and who's really to blame for the "nuking the fridge" idea in the last Indiana Jones film:
"When I told Lucas that Spielberg had accepted the blame for nuking the fridge, he looked stunned. 'It’s not true,' he said. 'He’s trying to protect me.'
"In fact, it was Spielberg who 'didn’t believe' the scene. In response to Spielberg’s fears, Lucas put together a whole nuking-the-fridge dossier. It was about six inches thick, he indicated with his hands. Lucas said that if the refrigerator were lead-lined, and if Indy didn’t break his neck when the fridge crashed to earth, and if he were able to get the door open, he could, in fact, survive. 'The odds of surviving that refrigerator — from a lot of scientists — are about 50-50,' Lucas said."
PUBLISHED: Jan. 17, 2012
LENGTH: 19 minutes (4934 words)
As Elizabeth Edwards talks (and talks) about her husband’s affair, The Daily Beast provides an exclusive look at one central character who remains a cipher: “Uncle Fred” Baron, the lawyer who paid for Edwards’ mistress to move across the country.
PUBLISHED: May 20, 2009
LENGTH: 5 minutes (1360 words)