My feelings, as the last ball travelled over the net, and as I realized that the final match was mine, I cannot describe. I felt that here was a prize for all the games I had ever played.

I&#39;m going to go down swinging... I&#39;m sure as heck not going to go home and say I had a bad tournament.

On the streets of Moscow, looking into thousands of faces, I was reminded once again that it’s not people who make war, but governments—and people deserve governments that fight for peace in the nuclear age.

Why would a football fan let a few flubbed minutes at the end of the game ruin three hours of bliss? Because a football game is a story. And in stories, endings matter.

Written By Atul Gawande

About us

Featured posts

Featured Topics

Quick Links