Sublime

if there was anything she hated more than unions, it was people who couldn’t work.

The last question was about the future of the sport. Gladwell’s response, at least at the time, seemed preposterous. “In twenty-five years,” he said, “no one in America will play football and no one in America will eat red meat.” He thanked the crowd and exited the stage.

A writer could blast out her opinions, but writers are at their best not when they tell people what to think but when they provide a context within which others can think.

The sequestering of the big Butte market was duck soup for the aggressive Hill and allowed him to play the role that would make him a legend: forcing competitiveness on a rigged market.

He was the ultra-hedgehog, obsessed with only one truth: If people feel optimistic about where they live, details don’t matter.

To make this even more specific: on our team, all of us—from the coach to the last guy on the bench—understood that the key shots at the end of the game were almost always going to be made by one player, Sam Jones. Every team needs a “go to” person, and Sam was ours. To win we knew we had to create the opportunity for him to take those shots . . .

“I do like things done by the book,” she says, her voice tight. “I believe in the book.”