Weekly Reading — 2026-08-16

Delivering Parcels in Beijing

https://www.thedial.world/articles/news/deliver-parcels-beijing-hu-anyan-excerpt

Gaoloujin was always my first stop of the day. After I left the depot, it took approximately 20 minutes to get there. It was a resettlement neighborhood, meaning that half of the people who lived in Gaoloujin were resettled farming folk from when the urban expansion had subsumed their home region. Inside the main gate, to the right, there was a 5-meter-wide, 3-meter-high screen that was showing the daily headlines when I drove by on my trike every morning. I supposed this was the new era of the open-air film viewings that were once so common in the countryside.

While some neighborhoods were good to deliver to, others weren’t, and when people took the good addresses, the rest of us were lumped with the bad ones. It was like a zero-sum game between colleagues; inevitably someone lost out.

Gaoloujin had 16 buildings in total, with numbers one through seven reserved for resettled residents, and numbers eight through 16 for tenants from elsewhere. Deliveries to the first seven were easy, since the elderly members of families were always at home throughout the day. Even if I happened to turn up when they were out doing the groceries, they were happy for me to leave parcels by doors or inside the utilities boxes. The residents were so close and looked out for each other so well, in fact, that no one even dared to paste up small ads in the neighborhood, for fear they’d be caught by the senior citizens.

The tenants, by comparison, were a mixed bunch. Most of them were migrant workers, young drifters, and then some co-renters. They were all out at work during the day. None of them knew their neighbors, and with lots of strangers going in and out of the building it was easy for parcels to go missing. When I first started with the team, a colleague put me on buildings eight to 16, while he did numbers one to seven. Every day I tackled half of Gaoloujin, the whole of New Town Leju, plus the Universal Studios construction site. Constantly rushing back and forth between them left me feeling spent and defeated.

Gradually, I slipped into a pit of negative emotions at work. While some neighborhoods were good to deliver to, others weren’t, and when people took the good addresses, the rest of us were lumped with the bad ones. It was like a zero-sum game between colleagues; inevitably someone lost out. Everybody worked the worst neighborhoods early on, and some people left as a result. Those who didn’t might eventually move on to covering a marginally better spot and, if they outstayed everyone else, maybe on to the best ones. But this always left the undesirable areas to the new arrivals. Newbies rarely argued, though, they just took time to cotton on to the inherent injustice at play, usually a month or two, but sometimes not even that. Everyone surely had a limit to how long they would wait for a “promotion” before they moved on. What this meant was that half the team was unshakeable, and the other half was like a revolving door.

I had no interest in falling out with my partner and bargaining with him at every turn. But neither did I want to work with someone who was going to take advantage. Imagine finishing later than a colleague every day yet earning less than them — of course I was going to feel irritated and dissatisfied, and at some point, I would stop really caring about the job. There is a reason that deep-sea fish are blind, and animals in the desert tolerant of thirst — a big part of who I am is determined by my environment and not my nature.

At that point I had already started to notice how my work situation was changing me, little by little, making me irritable, prone to anger, unconcerned by my responsibilities. I felt no longer capable of meeting the expectations I had of myself, and I didn’t really want to try to, either.

There were changes I noticed that occasionally thrilled me, though, and in those impassioned moments my despondency and restlessness fell away. Like the time I cursed out a woman I didn’t even know — I rarely ever shout, which is why this has stuck with me.

Usually, when any of us left a trike to drop off a delivery, we left the key in the ignition, so as not to waste time inserting and removing it hundreds of times a day. No one in the neighborhoods was going to steal a courier vehicle.

There was another time when I made a 70-year-old man wait on the sidewalk for almost three hours. Afterward, I was shocked to discover that I didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty.

One day I was carrying a box of parcels upstairs and I had just reached the second floor of the block when I glanced out of the hallway window and saw a woman, she might have been 50 or 60 years old, who had lifted a toddler onto my trike’s seat to play. The grandchild had his hands on the handlebars as if he was driving. If he had only twisted the accelerator ever so slightly, the trike would have started moving. I dropped the box in a panic and raced down the stairs.

A colleague of mine had recently forgotten to put on his trike’s hand brake while he went inside one building, and the wind had blown the trike into a roll, right into a sedan, scrap- ing its side. He ended up forking out 1,600 yuan to compensate the owner. I didn’t dare to imagine the damage a toddler on a trike might cause — or the injuries. He could crash into the sedan parked in front of it, which I couldn’t afford to pay for — or he might hit a passerby — or even worse, he might fall off the seat himself and be run over by the wheels… I almost blacked out just thinking this.

I was fuming when I reached the woman and started yelling. She just looked at me, shamefaced. “Children are silly, yes, but grown-ups too?” I still remember shouting this at her — it’s a line that I heard the actor Ge You say once in a film.

There was another time when I made a 70-year-old man wait on the sidewalk for almost three hours. Afterward, I was shocked to discover that I didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty.

Many customers preferred not to provide a complete address on the delivery form. They had their reasons, but it only made my job more difficult. I had one form once that didn’t include a building or door number, only that it was for the Gaoloujin neighborhood. I called ahead to find out where to go, and the recipient said he didn’t live in Gaoloujin at all, he just went to the market there every day for his vegetables. He was about to step out of the door, he said, and would be there in half an hour. Could I wait for him?

I had a full load of parcels still to deliver and couldn’t waste five minutes, never mind half an hour. I told him to phone when he arrived. Then I went into the neighborhood complex and, moments later, totally forgot about the whole thing.

The customer never called me, either. I finished my morning deliveries and was about to leave to collect the next batch, when an elderly man by the market shouted for me to stop. He had glasses on and a head of gray hair. “Young one, are you from S Company?” he asked.

Yes, I said.

I knew right away who he was. I quickly rummaged about in the back of the trike for his parcel and handed it over, at which he responded quite angrily, “I’ve been waiting here for you all morning, why didn’t you wait for me?”

I flinched in surprise: He had been standing there for nearly three hours. “Why didn’t you call?” I asked.

“I did, nothing went through,” he said.

It was true. My cell wasn’t easy to get ahold of. There was no signal in any of the elevators in Gaoloujin or in most of the corridors. When I phoned him that morning, I’d been on the road on my trike. The traffic and my anxiety had probably contributed to me not sounding particularly friendly. It also irked me when people didn’t give their full address — if they valued their privacy so much, they shouldn’t use express couriers. But I hadn’t known that the customer was so elderly. I explained to him how many parcels I had to deliver every day and how I had to keep moving if I had any hope of getting through them all. I couldn’t sit around waiting for people.

Perhaps he hadn’t heard me properly, but he just kept piling on the criticism: “It’s not proper, working like that. The customer is king, do you not understand?”

I balked, then instinctively became defensive. “But there should only be one king. I have to serve hundreds every day.”

At this, he laughed. He hadn’t been angry at all; he was just having some fun. He had a wicked sense of humor, it turned out. He shook the little box at me and said in a low voice, “My wife doesn’t let me buy them, so I don’t let you deliver them to my door.”

2024 Chiefs: The NEW Luckiest Team in NFL History

https://sportspassion.substack.com/p/2024-chiefs-the-new-luckiest-team

Welcome back to my Sports Passion Project, where this post may start a firestorm, if I’m lucky.

I’ve made a pledge with my readers. I don’t talk about the present in the longform posts, unless something I find interesting happens. In the 2024 NFL season, this has resulted in me talking about the present just twice, once talking about how the Falcons tanking themselves out of the playoff race infuriated me, and once after week one, decrying that the league willingly uses bad players more than they ever used to.

I haven’t written a post about being good at football in the present since I wrote about Jordan Love in the 2023 playoffs, well over a year ago now. It’s typically just not what I do. I wait for good football to age a little bit, to allow more aspects of the story to become public knowledge, and then I’ll write about it. However, to talk about the 2024 Chiefs, their play on the field is all I need.

Did you know the KC Chiefs won 15 games in the 2024 season?

I know. With everybody talking about how much they’d fallen off for most of the season, it became quite easy to forget that they were still winning the games.

This constant focus on the negative, regardless of the actual results of the games, reminds me a lot of another team from recent history, the 2022 Minnesota Vikings, about whom I wrote another article, with the exact same title as this one, calling them the luckiest team in NFL history. That title was correct when I wrote it, but it’s not correct anymore. Their throne has been stolen. Their crown is now being worn by the 2024 KC Chiefs.

In the play tracking era, there have been just 16 teams to end a season with two losses or fewer. There are better and worse teams within this lofty group, but the 2024 Chiefs are by far the worst of them all, and I’m going to prove it to you.

Normally, to be a great team in the NFL, you have to be great at something. There are no parameters on what that thing has to be. You can be great at defence. You can be great at offence. You can be great at passing. You can be great at running, but there has to be something that you’re great at.

In addition, you have to be good at everything. In the NFL, there are six measurements for (non-special teams) play. Pass, rush and total offence, as well as pass, rush, and total defence. The rule of thumb to be a great team is that you have to be top ten in at least four of these categories, in addition to being top five in some of them. The more the better, but you can get away with four. Basically, this means that a great team has (at least) to be fantastic on offence, and have something to hang their hat on on the defensive side, or vice versa.

The 2024 Baltimore Ravens are a team that comes to mind. They are unequivocally a great team, but are in the top ten of only four of these six categories, being neither a top ten pass nor total defence. This is a team that won games based on their extraordinary offence, while at least having rush defence as something on that side to feel good about. They make up for the low amount of total categories by being in the top five in all of them, measured by EPA/Play.

So, who wants to take a guess as to how many categories in which the Chiefs finished in the top ten?

Three.

Rush defence, as well as pass and total offence.

These are not strong top tens either. It’s tenth in rush defence, ninth in total offence, and tenth in passing offence. The 2024 Chiefs are top five in nothing. They are great at nothing. This on its own means this team fails the smell test to me. They’re just not good at enough things, but let me show you how they stack up compared to everybody else who got as many wins as they did.

Here is every team that achieved two or fewer losses in a season in the last 25 years while finishing top five in no categories:

Only the 2024 Chiefs.

Here is every team that finished with two or fewer losses in a season in the last 25 years with a total defence ranking as bad as the 2024 Chiefs’ 15th place:

2010 Patriots, 2011 Packers, 2020 Chiefs, 2024 Chiefs.

At least we’ve picked up some company this time, but we’ve picked up company in the form of teams that have 2010 Tom Brady, 2011 Aaron Rodgers, and 2020 Patrick Mahomes, against all of whom 2024 Patrick Mahomes is not just outmatched but entirely hopeless. On the notion of offence, here is every team that’s finished with two or fewer losses in a season in the last 25 years with a total offence ranking as bad as the 2024 Chiefs' 9th place:

2003 Patriots, 2024 Chiefs.

What I’m getting at is you can still be this calibre of team allowing an elite offence to make up for a not 15-win-calibre defence. You can do it while allowing an elite defence to make up for an offence that is not 15-win-calibre. You cannot do it without an elite anything, but that is exactly what the Chiefs have just pulled off in 2024.

If I didn’t tell you what laundry the team was wearing, and I told you that a team with the league’s 15th ranked total offence, and ninth ranked total defence, just won 15 games in a season, you would say that’s impossible. There’s only so many points to go around. You cannot give up so many, score so few, and still have enough left over to have 15 different margins of victory. 385 points allowed subtract 326 points allowed is just 59 points to use to spread across every victory for an entire season. If we have to win 15 games, that’s an average of 3.93 points per victory.

That’s not possible.

Take for instance the 2024 Green Bay Packers, who I consider to be a standard 11 win football team. They had 122 points over their opponents, and spread them over 11 victories, for an average margin of victory of 11.1 points in the games they won. That’s slightly higher than average for an 11 win team, but not entirely atypical.

How in the world did the KC Chiefs manage to pull off a 15 win season, while barely even being able to outscore their opponents?

The answer is simple. One possession games.

One possession games are what these Chiefs did well. They are what they hung their hat on. One possession games are what they enjoyed doing. They are all these Chiefs had going for them. This is not a compliment by the way. One possession games are a bad thing. They allow your opponent close enough to be able to have luck swing the game their way, in a game where luck has a lot of power to swing things.

‘He’s great in one possession games’ is the type of backhanded compliment normally reserved for the likes of Kirk Cousins. It’s not supposed to be used when discussing the two time defending champions, but it is, and I’m going to use another list to tell you why.

Here is every team that achieved two or fewer losses in a season in the last 25 years that had to play 11 one possession games:

2024 Chiefs.

Alright. That’s embarrassing. How about ten games then? Surely with a bonus, some team has to join this list:

2024 Chiefs.

For goodness’ sake. Surely the 2024 Chiefs can’t be the only team that relied on a bit of one possession game luck to get to these lofty heights. How about nine games then?

2024 Lions, 2024 Chiefs.

It’s not until you get to eight one possession games in a season where you find quite a few companions in the two or less loss club. Those are the teams that got to the top with one possession game luck. The ones who played eight one possession games. Kansas City blows that out of the water with their 11. That does not just make what the Chiefs have done unprecedented. It also justifies the title. This is the luckiest team in NFL history.

The last time I talked about something like this, I talked about how the 2022 Vikings played 11 one possession games, and won all of them. I thought it would never be done again, but it’s taken just two seasons for that number to not just be matched, but one-upped.

Allow me to tell you the story of the greatest run of luck in NFL history, the 2024 Kansas City Chiefs.

At season’s beginning, it did not seem like it was going to be this way. Week one is a matchup between our KC Chiefs and the AFC’s best team in 2023 (and 2024, as it would turn out), the Baltimore Ravens, and it’s moments like these where I must insist that not every one possession game is the same. We beat the Ravens 27-20, and got within an eyelash of having to go to OT, but this is the acceptable brand of close game.

We spent almost the entire second half leading by multiple possessions, and the lowest our estimated Win Probability (according to NFLFastR) ever got in the second half was 67 percent. There was never any real danger of losing. We spent the whole second half far enough ahead that there was nothing luck could do to swing the tide of this battle. It tried. A lot of things went against us in the last ten minutes for this game to even be as close as it was, but the benefit of having a big lead is the privilege to squander most of it.

As is turns out, squandering leads is going to become a theme of this piece. Remember this Baltimore game for later, as from the future, we can see that coming within a toe’s width of blowing a two possession lead to Baltimore is not an isolated incident, but the beginning of the 2024 KC Chiefs forming the identity that they will carry with them the entire season. It’s not terribly important right now, but will become that way in retrospect, as the first of many blown leads for the 2024 Kansas City Chiefs.

In week one though, we don’t know that yet. All we know is we’ve just scored an impressive win over what is going to be one of the best teams in the conference again. That takes us to 1-0, and we move on to week two, where once again we get one of the AFC’s top dogs.

So we thought.

Week two is actually against the Cincinnati Bengals, a team who is going to boast one of the worst defences in all of football in 2024, and hadn’t been very good in 2023 either. This poor defence, combined with the game taking place in Kansas City, means we go into this game as full touchdown favourites, but as we’re soon to see, these Chiefs ought not to be favoured by so much.

This is a game that should’ve been a passing showcase, pitting the league’s 15th (KC) and 16th (CIN) ranked pass defences against one another, with both given the task to try to shut down one of the league’s best QBs, but as will become common in 2024 Chiefs games, the impossible occurs. Both teams have no trouble at all shutting down such elite opposition, even without the necessary defensive talent to do so.

It’s actually the KC rush offence that has to carry the day, operating at a 57 percent success rate (compared to Patrick Mahomes’ 38%). Despite this very solid day out of the rush offence, it’s just hard to win with your QB playing so badly, so we go into half behind 16-10, encountering our first of many second half deficits of the 2024 season.

It doesn’t last long, as the rush and the pass game split the load evenly (five successful plays each) en route to taking a 17-16 lead on the first drive of the second half, but this is where the offence sinks into the malaise. The Bengals immediately take a 22-17 lead back, and we cannot respond. Patrick Mahomes throws two INTs on the next drive. Only one of them is called back by a penalty, and that’s where we find the Chiefs’ lowest chance to win this game according to NFLFastR. 32 percent, with the Bengals possessing the ball, with a five point lead, on the first play of the fourth quarter.

Things will never get this good for Cincinnati again, as our defence comes up clutch, returning a strip sack for a TD and a 23-22 lead. They do take a 25-23 lead back, as we can’t find a single positive offensive play on our next drive either, and when Cincinnati possesses the ball on first and ten with seven minutes left and a two point lead, it’s beginning to look seriously bleak again.

Thankfully, we’re able to find a sack on Joe Burrow in the key moment, giving us the ball back for the final time, as while we’re still able to find just four successful offensive plays, that’s enough to get us into FG range, and we win this game 26-25.

That was a brutal second half of offence, and when I say brutal, I mean after the good looking drive to make it 17-16, there was not a single offensive play that generated positive EPA until the FG drive at the end, and even that drive featured just four of them on nine tries. This makes the Chiefs one of only six teams held to negative EPA by the Cincinnati Bengals all season, joining the inauspicious company of the New York Giants, Cleveland Browns (2x), Las Vegas Raiders, Tennessee Titans, and Pittsburgh Steelers.

Offensively, being compared to any of those teams is a nightmare, but it’s where the Chiefs belong in week two. Whatever the opposite of clutch is, that’s the adjective that describes our offence this game. We relied heavily on our defence, and they were there to pick up the slack, making us one of only five teams to hold the high flying Bengals to less than 0.05 EPA/Play (the vicinity of zero) all season, joining the Patriots, Giants, Browns, and Steelers.

Out of a defence that’s going to finish the season ranked 15th against the pass, it would not be wise to rely on them for this kind of performance again, but I don’t think the Chiefs get that memo, because a very similar thing happens the very next week, on the road in Atlanta.

We enter the second half trailing 14-13, struggling mightily to score against an Atlanta Falcon team that’s going to finish the season ranked 20th in total defence. Not that much better than Cincinnati. Just like against Cincinnati, we come out of the half hot, scoring two quick ones to make the score 22-14, scoring our last touchdown at 1:21 remaining in the third quarter.

Again like Cincinnati, our offence suddenly, and without warning, turns from white hot to ice cold. For the final 16:21 of the game, there are two successful offensive plays in total, and not a single first down, giving Kirk Cousins not one, not two, but three chances to eliminate our one possession lead. He’s normally great at this kind of thing, but not today.

We do reach our lowest second half estimated Win Probability of 56 percent, with Kirk Cousins possessing the ball on our six yard line behind by five points at 5:32 of the fourth, but he can get no further, turning the ball over on downs, and not getting that close a second time. By the skin of the teeth, our defence has bailed out our frozen fourth quarter offence for the second week in a row, and we move to 3-0.

In retrospect, week four is a very important game for us. It’s on the road against the division rival Los Angeles Chargers, who are a team that everybody loves to laugh at, but a team we would find out over the 2024 season is not one you want to surrender the division lead to. They’re not to be taken lightly.

Their defence is not a pushover like Cincinnati or Atlanta. They’re going to finish fifth in EPA/Play Allowed this season. It doesn’t seem like the optimal opponent to get our poor second half offence turned around, but in this case, it doesn’t seem like we’re going to have to worry about the second half.

Our first half offence is even worse.

We fall behind 10-0 in the second quarter, as prior to the 54 yard TD pass to Xavier Worthy at 4:14, there had been eight total successful offensive plays in the whole first half, on 21 tries. A 38.1 percent first half success rate is not acceptable, as even though the Chargers were awful on offence in the early season, they’re better than this. We can’t manage anything after this 54 yard touchdown pass either, so we go into the second half trailing for the third week in a row, this time 10-7, with all of our offence for the entire game having come on one play.

We know how this game finishes, but pretend you don’t. This is an iffy spot. With the benefit of hindsight, the Chargers are a pretty good team, and the AFC West is a pretty good division in 2024. It’s not like the AFC West that the Chiefs have known for most of the last decade, where a divisional loss or two is okay here and there. Divisional losses are not something we can afford to take in 2024.

Knowing how our offence came up so small in the key moments against such innocuous defences as Cincinnati and Atlanta, what can we possibly expect them to do against the mighty Los Angeles Chargers? It’s got to be better than its been in this next half, elsewise we’re going to fall to second place in the AFC West for the first time in years.

It does not start well, having to rely on a missed Charger FG to keep the score 10-7 by the time we touch the ball, and beginning the half with one successful play (a third down bailout) in five tries to bring our offence to bleak looking third and 11 situation.

On this third and 11, Patrick throws a very nice ball deep down the middle to Justin Watson. Nothing else comes of this drive, but this play on its own is enough to ensure a FG, and a game tied at ten. The Chargers get to our three yard line but turn the ball over on downs. We can’t do anything either, but LA has nothing for this voracious fourth quarter defence. They don’t get anywhere near scoring, as we engineer our first legitimately good looking fourth quarter drive of the season to sneak out of Los Angeles with a 17-10 win.

When I began the writing process on this article, I expected a lot of Patrick Mahomes fourth quarter wizardry. Instead, I’m faced with a pass offence that has a 50% success rate on the dot in the fourth quarter through the last three weeks, almost all of which comes in this Los Angeles game. There’s nothing wrong with 50%. In fact, that’s what strikes me about it. How ordinary it is.

The 2024 Chiefs are going to be a 50% success rate pass offence all season, in all situations. They do not improve in the fourth quarter. At least they haven’t yet.

Taking into account the Chiefs’ lowest second half estimated WP in all these games (67 percent against Baltimore, 32 percent against Cincinnati, 56 percent against Atlanta, 46 percent against Los Angeles before they missed the FG), that leaves an average of 50.25%, meaning the Chiefs should have likely won exactly half of these games, a typical result when all four of them were decided by one possession. Instead, we’ve won all four.

I’m off to a great start in proving the titular hypothesis.

What doesn’t help prove my hypothesis is the next two games, where the Chiefs defeat a Saints team that was off to an extremely hot start by the score of 26-13, and defeat the sinking but not yet sunk SF 49ers on the road by a score of 28-18. Both of these were fantastic performances out of our second half offence to turn what would’ve been dodgy games in weeks 2-4 into multi-possession wins in weeks 5-7. This was a very impressive stretch. If only this team could’ve had more games like this, there would’ve been no article with this title.

Another game that belongs to this good stretch in spirit is week eight on the road in Las Vegas. This is the right type of one possession game again. In the end, it’s decided by the score of 27-20, but there is no second half deficit. Gardner Minshew does not get three different chances to tie the game like Kirk Cousins got. He gets one, which ends in two plays when he gets strip sacked, and the game is over from there. The Chiefs’ estimated WP never gets lower than 66 percent in the second half.

These are the type of games that Chiefs fans love to talk about, which is why I’m getting so granular about which types of one possession games are flukes, and which are not. So far, there have been five of them. Baltimore and Las Vegas were well under control for almost their whole duration. Cincinnati, Atlanta, and Los Angeles legitimately could’ve gone either way. I generally say that teams should win approximately 50 percent of their one possession games, but this is only an aggregate, like I aggregated it to 50.25% earlier. Not every game is a 50/50 if the score is eight points or narrower. Those are just the bad ones, and for week nine, on Monday Night Football against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, we have to step back into the realm of the bad one possession games.

Both offences struggle to score for the first half, moving us past the halftime break with the score 10-7 in favour of Kansas City. However, Tampa makes mincemeat of our second half KC defence, immediately moving the score to 14-10, and giving us yet another second half deficit to deal with.

This is our fourth second half deficit of the season, which may not seem like much, but for a team undefeated through seven games this is a ridiculous number. Teams who finish seasons with two losses or fewer are known to finish whole seasons with four or fewer second half deficits. This is just game eight, and we’re already on our fourth one.

Our offence did not come out of the locker room as hot as the Bucs’ did, so we go three and out, punting the ball back to Tampa Bay. Our defence is struggling with their top five offence. The first play of their new drive immediately gets them to our 41 yard line. The defence does force them into a third and 12 from this position, but a 15 yard catch and run to Cade Otton really hurts, giving the Bucs first and ten from the 20 yard line, and ultimately the lowest chance of winning the Chiefs will face all night long, 40 percent.

Luckily, first down is an offensive facemask penalty, pushing Tampa all the way back to first and 25 at the 43. They do still manage a FG out of this, but disaster is averted. They will not find a spot that good again, as our offence finally wakes up, scoring back to back touchdowns to make the score 24-17 to our benefit. When Tampa again cannot score, that means we have the ball leading by seven points at 2:39 of the fourth quarter.

NFLFastR gives us a 96 percent chance to win from this position, as even if Tampa Bay gets the ball back, they will have no timeouts, and will have to go the length of the field against our defence, who is not easy to go down the field against in these fourth quarter moments. Even while the second half offence has let us down a few times this season already, the late game defence never has, and so right now, when the late game offence lets us down again, running only three offensive plays and giving the ball back to the Bucs, I’m still not that scared.

When the first play of the Tampa offensive touch is an offensive holding penalty, I’m really not scared. The Bucs get rolling from there though, but even when they get to first and ten on the 23, I’m still not scared. Our defence has faced this situation three times already in clutch situations, and we’ve lived to tell about it.

It’s only once I physically see the ball enter the end zone, and see the score board switch to displaying 24-23, that I know we have royally botched this game. It’s an even bigger insult when the Bucs elect to kick to make the score 24-24 instead of going for two points and the win, indicating that they believe they can beat us in an OT. You can’t fault their confidence, but in this instance it turns out to be a mistake.

A bad mistake.

This game goes into OT tied at 24. We win the coin toss, and Baker Mayfield never touches the ball again. Tampa fans are extremely unhappy about the choice to allow this game to go to OT instead of considering a two point try, as the Chiefs once again get out of Dodge, this time with a razor thin 30-24 overtime victory.

Royally botching an almost certain victory is not a flavour of one possession game we’ve seen out of these Chiefs prior to this, but we’ve seen it now, and we’re going to keep seeing it as the season rolls along. I told you after Baltimore that blowing leads would become a trend. This is where that trend really gets going. In this case, we were let off the hook by the Buccaneers’ overconfidence, or fear, or perhaps both, preventing them from attempting a two point conversion to attempt to win the game, but make no mistake. Frittering away a 96 percent chance to win and allowing the game to slip into a naked 50/50 overtime coin toss scenario is not what elite teams do.

Everybody has slip ups, but this was a bad slip. Not one becoming of a team with the status of two time defending NFL champions. In isolation, it could’ve been looked over, but combining this with all the other second half deficits the Chiefs have had this season makes this Tampa Bay game the point where all the noise around KC not being an elite team anymore really began to have substance for me. At this point, it’s becoming difficult not to notice that the Chiefs are not what they once were.

For reference, the best version of the Patrick Mahomes Chiefs (2022), played just eight games in a 17 game season where they allowed their opponents to stay within ten total EPA of them. That’s less than half of all games where the Chiefs failed to convincingly defeat their opponents. That is a great football team.

These Chiefs have played eight games so far, and have played seven games already decided by ten total EPA or less. Only in the Saints game (12.27 to -3.67) did the Chiefs truly convincingly defeat their opponents. In all the others, the game was within one big play of going the other way, and speaking of that, we’re about to get to perhaps the ultimate moment that the 2024 Chiefs will be remembered for. As far from a convincing win as one can get.

By the time week ten comes around, the Chiefs are not free and clear already, but we’re close. Three games ahead of the LA Chargers, and four ahead of Denver, we’re at the point now where we can afford one loss, so each game means a little bit less than it did just a few weeks ago, but each team always wants to defeat their division rivals, so this game against the hot new thing going on in Denver is a game both sides really want.

We come into it as eight point home favourites, but the bookies don’t know that the Denver Broncos are all set to get white hot after this. The Broncos will win each of their next four games after this one, not a single one by one possession, to truly break out of the pack and cement themselves as a team that will be making the playoffs in the AFC. They aren’t there yet as of week ten, but with how they play against us right now, perhaps we could’ve seen it coming.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. Both offences struggle mightily throughout the bulk of the game, with Denver’s reluctance to throw their rookie QB into the Kansas City fire holding them back, and Denver’s number one defence holding us back. We manage two successful offensive plays in the first quarter, meanwhile the Broncos score on the second play of the second to take a 7-0 lead. We narrow the score to 7-3, but they immediately bomb a big completion on us to make it a 14-3 deficit.

We are able to narrow the score to 14-10 come halftime, but this is yet another second half deficit the 2024 KC Chiefs have to contend with. Beginning the half with a three and out does not help, nor does only being able to convert a first and goal opportunity into a FG and a 14-13 deficit. It’s once again that late game Chief defence holding down the fort, as despite scoring just six offensive points in the second half, not the type of performance you’d like when facing a four point halftime deficit, the Chiefs do have a 16-14 lead when the Broncos touch the ball for their final time, on account of our defence holding them to just three successful offensive plays in the entire half so far.

Much like the Tampa game last week, this does not feel like an especially dangerous situation. There’s six minutes left. Even if Denver does score, we can still get the ball back afterwards, and that’s if they can move the ball at all against this defence who has surrendered just two first downs in the whole second half.

Nevertheless, the Denver offence starts crawling down the field. Two yard run, six yard pass, six yard run, three yard pass, etc.. It’s the type of drive that’s awful in the first quarter, but fantastic in the fourth quarter. Our defence has three different chances to get them off the field on third down, but cannot convert any of them, and with the Broncos making sure to run the full 40 seconds off the clock at each opportunity, the final failure leaves us with our lowest chance of winning this game, 27 percent, with the Broncos possessing the ball on our 14, with enough downs remaining to run the clock down to zeroes.

It seems as if, for the second week in a row, the late game defence that’d been our calling card all season has failed us. Our chances of winning this game have been reduced to the chances of Wil Lutz missing this 35 yard FG attempt. There is no more time remaining for any kind of response. We have surrendered control of our destiny. All that can be done to continue our perfect season is to hope for a missed FG, something we have no control over.

Oh come on. You really believed that?

Being the team that we are, the 2024 Chiefs exercise the very last bit of control we have remaining. We block the FG attempt, converting on our 27 percent chance of victory, delaying the beginning of Denver’s hot streak for one week longer, and propelling ourselves to 9-0. This is the eighth game decided by ten total EPA or less (5.4 to 3.45), officially using as many close calls as the 2022 Chiefs used in their whole Super Bowl campaign, in just nine games.

We’re about to reach an inflection point in this 2024 Chiefs campaign, so I’m going to take this chance to summarise what happened in the undefeated portion of our season.

In the first ten weeks (nine games) of the 2024 NFL season, the Kansas City Chiefs faced five second half deficits, plus two additional games also decided by one possession, but never featuring the Chiefs trailing.

Taking the average of the second half win probabilities again, using the 67, 32, 56, 46, from before, in addition to the 66 percent from Las Vegas, 40 percent from Tampa, and 27 percent from Denver means I would expect the Chiefs to win 47.7 percent of these one possession games. If I give this team full credit for the two multi-possession wins, that’s still just 5.34 expected wins, which the Chiefs have turned into nine real ones.

That’s 3.66 wins above expected in just half a season.

The lion’s share of work towards becoming the luckiest team ever has already been done. For context, only three teams in the new millennium (2012 Colts, 2016 Raiders, and of course the 2022 Vikings) have scored 3.66 wins above expected or more in a whole season, according to my expected win model, so through just nine games this is already one of the luckiest NFL teams ever, and it’s still not over yet.

Before we get to the rest of it though, we have to talk about week 11 in Buffalo.

On the surface, it looks a lot like every other game these Chiefs have played all season, coming out of halftime facing a 16-14 deficit, but the Bills are different. They are not the Chargers. They are not the Falcons. They are not the Buccaneers. You cannot pull a Houdini act like the Chiefs have been pulling all season on them.

There are chances we get to swing this game, but we do not just fail on them. We miserably fail on them, not even getting close to scoring until we are already down two possessions, and it is too late. This is where the 2024 Chiefs and the 2022 Vikings (their closest comparison) differ. The 2022 Vikings never failed in any clutch spots all season long, but they were not good enough to stand up to the top teams, so the true top dogs just beat them in 40-10 type games, and did not have to worry about any of their clutch nonsense.

You cannot do that to these Chiefs. We’re too good for that, but we’re also not as clutch as the 2022 Vikings. The 2022 Vikings would’ve won this game 100 percent of the time. They basically did. They won one exactly like it against the Buffalo Bills in their season, but the Chiefs did not win it. We did not get close to winning it.

It’s a slap in the face of a realisation that we’re not ready for the top teams anymore. We can beat teams like the Falcons and Chargers this way, but when it comes to the Bills it’s just too much. Thankfully, we won’t have to face a true top team again for a while. Let’s get back to the fun stuff, like a week 12 matchup against the Carolina Panthers.

I don’t bet sports anymore, but when I saw the line was the Chiefs by 11, I audibly laughed and told all of my friends to go bet the Panthers to cover, and not to bet small. We do not beat anybody by 11 points. Not even the Panthers.

For most of this game, it doesn’t look too dangerous for KC. Far from a second half deficit, we enter the second half of this game with a 20-9 lead. It’s the good type of one possession game again. Carolina narrows it to 20-16, we pull back out to 27-16. At the beginning of the fourth quarter, they narrow it again to 27-19, and true to form, our offence goes to sleep.

In two tries to put the game away, we do not score. This leaves the Carolina Panthers to drive down the field and tie the game at 27 with 1:49 to go. This gets us to our lowest second half win probability, 75 percent. This seems low for a tied game in the fourth, but with the worst thing that can possibly happen being a 50/50 overtime, it’s not that unreasonable. We don’t get that far anyways, as a 33 yard Mahomes scramble is enough on its own to get us into FG range, and we take this one 30-27, but seriously?

A last second FG against the Carolina Panthers? What are we doing here?

It’s one thing not being able to convincingly defeat teams like the Chargers and Falcons. Also, in an underrated point, it can’t be denied that even though we were getting really lucky to win all those games, the average game on our schedule for the first nine was against a 9.18 expected win team. That’s a hard schedule. All of that falls away though, now that we’ve failed to convincingly defeat the 3-7 Carolina Panthers. We did not cover our 11 point spread. We couldn’t even cover a three point spread. All of this after falling well short in our game against Buffalo.

Despite the 10-1 record, things are not looking very good for KC, and somehow in week 13, they get even worse. Or should I say, they get even more Chiefs? On a Friday afternoon Thanksgiving weekend home game against the Las Vegas Raiders, everything goes brutally wrong, yet still somehow goes right.

Aidan O’Connell outplays Patrick Mahomes 0.14 EPA/Play to 0.06. We allow one of the worst rushing offences in NFL history in the 2024 Raiders to work at a 46 percent success rate against us. We cannot move the ball ourselves against a bottom half defence again, and we’re clearly the second best team on the field, against the damned Raiders.

It’s not so much this way in the first half, where neither team can move the ball effectively, but a missed Vegas FG helps us into the half with a 10-3 lead instead of a 10-6 one. To open up the second half, the Raiders march right down to our 30 yard line, but then the worst rush offence in recent memory comes back to bite them, and they fail on fourth and one there. We respond with one successful offensive play, but it’s a big one, so on its own it gets us a 13-3 lead.

The Raiders spend their next drive getting to our 22 with very little issue, but missing a FG again. We repeat pattern as well, responding with only one play that generates positive EPA, but it’s a 31 yard pass to DeAndre Hopkins, which nets three points and a 16-3 lead basically on its own. This is one of the most undeserved 13 point leads I’ve ever seen, with the Raiders having been inside the 30 twice, plus two additional FG attempts, all of which have netted three points combined.

This won’t continue.

At last, Vegas converts one of their good offensive drives into a score, cutting the lead to 16-10. We respond with nothing, and things are finally where they should be when a one play touchdown on the first play of the fourth quarter has us staring down the barrel of yet another second half deficit, 17-16.

That is yet another 95+ percent chance of victory that we have frittered away. That’s three of those in the last five games, along with Tampa Bay and Carolina. We can’t just have blowouts. We have to have these fourth quarter wars instead. It’s yet another one that we win, as we spend our three remaining touches on a FG and two three and outs, meanwhile the Raiders get inside our 40 yard line twice more, but again convert neither of these opportunities into any points.

That’s a 19-17 win for us, but this is the definition of unsustainable. Playing against the 2-9 Las Vegas Raiders this way is very very far from the level at which the Chiefs are accustomed to being. We’ve just lost the total EPA battle 4.76 to 2.92, but three missed Raider FGs, plus two Raider turnovers, all inside our 40 yard line, get us out of this never ending nightmare of a football game with a two point victory.

Nobody came up clutch in this game. Certainly not the offence, who scored nine second half points against a Raider team who’d given up 20 second half points to Bo Nix just last week. No offence to Bo Nix, but he shouldn’t be outperforming the KC Chiefs’ offence at anything. The defence didn’t hold up their end either, as the Raiders generated positive EPA just five times all season. Even with all the nonsense inside our 40 yard line, this game is one of them. Las Vegas won the total EPA battle in a game just four times all season. This game is one of them.

This is a level of competition that should not be troubling the KC Chiefs, but they are, because the Chiefs are not what the Chiefs used to be. Sometime between 2022 and now, there has been a structural break, where we went from being one of the NFL’s top dogs to relying on games like this to defeat the Las Vegas Raiders. Nevertheless, we did, and we move to week 14 at 11-1.

By this point, everybody’s gotten the picture with the Chiefs. They know what we are. This is demonstrated by the point spread for week 14’s game at home against Los Angeles. In week four, we traveled across the country to play in their home, and we did it as eight point favourites. Now, we play at home as mere five point favourites. If we net out the approximate three point boost that a home team gets, that’s 11 point favourites in week four, and just two points now.

That’s a nine point difference, against the exact same Los Angeles Chargers. That amounts to a dramatic loss of respect for the KC Chiefs over the course of this season, but with how everything has gone, can you honestly say it’s undeserved? We can barely beat the Carolina Panthers and Las Vegas Raiders. What are we supposed to do against a real team, like Los Angeles?

Well, how about the same thing we’ve been doing all season?

It’s a punt fest for the whole first half. The Chargers never get near scoring. We score 13 points, and going into halftime with a 13-0 lead, it looks just for a second like we’re about to actually beat somebody (as opposed to barely squeaking past them) for once. We’re coming out for the second half with a 93 percent estimated WP. All we have to do is maintain. Although we’ve been faltering for the last few weeks, we’re generally pretty good at maintaining. We don’t have to win another half. We just have to not lose it spectacularly.

These Chiefs are getting into quite the habit of spectacularly blowing leads.

Touchdown Chargers. Three and out. Touchdown Chargers.

Our estimated WP did not get all the way up to 95 percent, but it got up to 94, so I’m changing the filter, so I can say that this is the third week in a row that the Chiefs have allowed a 94 percent chance of victory or higher to become either a second half tie or deficit. All we had to do was coast. Now we’re down 14-13.

When did the Chiefs become such chokers?

I hate using that word, for reasons that have nothing to do with the Kansas City Chiefs or football in general, but I will use it in this circumstance, because what other word do you expect me to use? This is the fourth time in the last six games that this team has taken an almost unlosable situation, and found a way to put ourselves into a losing position.

Thankfully for us, the world at large only cares to notice how big of a choker you are when you actually lose, as the final three drives of this game go FG Chiefs, FG Chargers, FG Chiefs, and we win the game 19-17 again, but good God. This team is going to give me a heart attack if they cannot figure out how to hold on to a lead.

It’s not like these are electric offences either. We allowed the Buccaneers to come back on us. That’s perhaps forgivable, but we had the Carolina Panthers, Las Vegas Raiders, and Los Angeles Chargers all in practically hopeless situations. None of these teams are top ten offences. None of them are close to being top ten offences. Two of them are in fact bottom ten offences.

If we allow a comeback to Baker Mayfield, I will say okay. I’m glad to get the win. Don’t do it again, but if we allow a comeback to Bryce Young, Aidan O’Connell, or Justin Herbert, especially in back to back to back games, I will say there are serious structural issues. For people who thought this was an elite team throughout the season, this is the type of thing people like me were screaming about.

This is a team that can’t get a lead. They can’t hold a lead even when they do get a lead. They play close against good teams. They play close against bad teams. They allow comebacks to good offences. They allow comebacks to bad offences. All of this, but they have just one loss. At this point, week 14 of the 2024 NFL season, I found myself prepared to call this the luckiest team in NFL history.

Think about it.

They are 12-1 yes, but they’ve played ten one possession games, winning all of them, and they don’t seem to discriminate between good and bad competition as to whether they play a one score game or not. Who does that remind you of?

Ding ding. You’re correct. The 2022 Minnesota Vikings. The previous holders of the title of the luckiest football team in NFL history, but even the 2022 Vikings did not make it as hard on themselves as the Chiefs have. One more time averaging out the one possession game luck reveals that the Chiefs should’ve probably won 51.8 percent of these one possession games on average. Giving them no credit for the multi possession loss in Buffalo, but full credit for the multi possession wins, this reveals a rudimentary expected win total of 7.18 in 13 games.

Turning 7.18 expected wins into 12 real ones means the Chiefs have gotten 4.82 wins above expected in a 13 game stretch. The only team that lucky over the course of a whole year in the history of the league is those 2022 Vikings, and we’re closing in fast on their 5.07 2022 total.

The Chiefs do not cough up an unlosable situation for the fourth week in a row, defeating Cleveland fairly handily in week 15, but damn it if we don’t play one more one possession game against Houston in week 16. It’s the good type, but the Texans do possess the ball on our side of the field trailing by just one point in the second half, for the lowest probability of victory in the second half for us to get as low as 55%. This is all it takes to push us over the edge.

With an expected winning percentage of 52.1% in our 11 one possession games, and four multi possession wins, this gives the 2024 Chiefs 9.73 expected wins, compared to 15 real ones, for a wins over expected total of 5.27, becoming just the second team in NFL history with a score higher than five, and barely edging out the 2022 Minnesota Vikings for the title of the new luckiest team in the history of football.

I want to be clear with everybody that while I’ve been comparing the two a lot, the 2024 Chiefs and 2022 Vikings are not similar. This is not a team that was clutch, like the 2022 Minnesota team. That team was just not good enough to be beating the teams they were beating, and relied on clutch factor to bail themselves out of late game situations that their relatively low (7.92 expected win) team quality got them into, because they were not good enough to break away.

These Chiefs are not that. There are several games where they could have been free and clear (Baltimore, Las Vegas 2x, Tampa Bay, Carolina, Los Angeles the second time, Houston), but instead allowed their opponents to reel them back in, allowing multi possession leads to fall into one possession second half leads in all these games, and deficits in a lot of the cases.

That is not clutch. That is a team continuously putting themselves into bad situations, but still having the guile to work their way out of it. That is the opposite of clutch. Clutch teams (and players) do not create their own bad situations. Clutch would be these Chiefs scoring some extra touchdowns in some third quarters along the way to not face a second half sweat at all. That’s what clutch is. That’s not what this is.

The conclusion that I’ve come to while telling this story is that these Chiefs are not just not clutch, but in fact one of the least clutch teams I’ve ever seen. They constantly showed they were good enough to create good circumstance after good circumstance after good circumstance for themselves, and consistently threw those good circumstances away, often having to rely on one possession game luck (OT coin toss here, missed field goal there) to win games they could have won easily.

These Chiefs were like the Baltimore Ravens in the 2012 Super Bowl (almost blowing it after the lights went out, but their 22 point lead barely being enough to get them through the second half) every week of the year.

It’s not like this ended once the playoffs began either. In the Texans game, the Chiefs took an early ten point lead, and squandered it, instead spending almost the entire second half up by just eight points, before finally pulling out a bit further distance. This is the right kind of close game. Their lowest WP in the second half was 69 percent, but one nonetheless that did not have to happen.

The AFC Championship against Buffalo is the exact same story. An early 21-10 lead allowed to turn into a 22-21 second half deficit, and with Buffalo touching the ball while ahead in the fourth quarter in KC territory, the estimated WP got as low as 36 percent at one point, down from a height of 88 earlier in the game.

That is the 2024 Chiefs’ story. Choking. Just without the losing.

I wish I could say the Super Bowl’s outcome surprised me, but I don’t make a habit of lying to my audience and I won’t start now. Those who pay attention to my Notes (I don’t talk about the present on the mothership) would know that I predicted that the Chiefs would have no trouble containing Saquon Barkley, but still would lose handily. That’s exactly what happened, so I cannot feign surprise.

There was a part of me that hoped that KC would take an early lead before it all fell apart, because that would be a nice narrative ending to this story that I’ve told here, but it’s not negotiable that for a team like the 2024 Chiefs, it always falls apart eventually. There is only one team that is in the top 50 luckiest teams in history, and is also a Super Bowl champion. That team is the 2003 New England Patriots, and it’s literally a meme on this publication how much I talk about the 2003 AFC (take a shot, I brought it up), trying to explain that away.

Unless you are exactly the 2003 New England Patriots, you cannot win a championship this way.

I understand where all the hype about this team came from. If this Kansas City team could just stop shooting their own toes, they would be a great team again, but they just never quite got there. They never quite learned how to hold a lead, which is weird, because you wouldn’t have thought at season’s beginning that the Chiefs were a team that would fall victim to constantly blowing leads, given where they’ve been, but every NFL team is different. The 2024 Chiefs are not the 2023 or 2022 Chiefs. They came with an entirely different character.

For whatever reason, this particular iteration of the Chiefs was stuck with this bad habit. It never truly bit them, as in the end, both of their two true losses were against teams nakedly better than them, who both ran away with quiet multi possession wins over them. Being a 9.73 expected win team fighting with the giants will almost always end badly for the little guy. This is no different, and is in fact exemplary of the experience that typically comes with rooting for an underdog.

For a cross-sport analogy, these 2024 Chiefs remind me greatly of the 2022 Tampa Bay Lightning, a team who went on a fantastic Cinderella playoff run, before falling short at the hands of a far superior Colorado Avalanche team. They will never get proper credit for this underdog run, because of the little detail that they were the two time defending Stanley Cup champions. The 2024 Chiefs are just the same.

They were going against the very best teams in the NFL, hitting well above their roster’s weight. Unfortunately in sports, the playoffs are where good stories go to die. For all of us who are fans of teams that are not the Chiefs, it feels good to let KC fans back in on this reality. They knew it plenty well already, but have been exempt from it for a while. A nice reminder that the playoffs are beholden to nobody is always good.

We should have been cheering loudly for this Cinderella team who just kept winning football games, but we weren’t cheering. This should have been the lovable underdog that we’d remember for years to come, but they weren’t an underdog. What were the 2024 KC Chiefs?

They were the luckiest team in the history of the NFL.

Thanks so much for reading.

House of Dysfunction, Part I: The Curious Case of Caleb Williams

https://www.golongtd.com/p/house-of-dysfunction-part-i-the-curious

Illustration by Brave Buffalo

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Highlight reels failed to capture his signature move as a professional quarterback. Cameras weren’t flashing and sycophants weren’t hyperventilating. But, yes, Caleb Williams was able to master one signature move as a rookie last season.

In college, he’d juke and spin and escape helpless defenders with hypnotic flair. He was an artist coloring outside the lines and this 53 1/3-yard wide, 120-yard long field was his personal canvas. But in the pros, such sorcery was scarce. In the pros, he’s been escaping a different setting with remarkable precision and consistency.

The most dramatic spectacle of them all occurred on Dec. 26. His team was hosting the Seattle Seahawks on Thursday Night Football. Commercials rolled during a timeout, so nobody at home saw this poignant moment that perfectly summarized the 2024 Chicago Bears. In the wake of two firings, heartbreaking defeats, staggering to the finish line of an agonizing 5-12 season, interim head coach Thomas Brown tried to explain something to his starting quarterback and… no. Williams was not having it.

An auto-response kicked in.

As he had done many times to many coaches all season, Williams turned his head and walked away. Shane Waldron, before getting fired as offensive coordinator, used to stay quiet. Not Brown. Not a stern, blunt, old-school coach who believed this 22-year-old crossed a line of disrespect. The typically calm coach lost it. On the headset, another Bears assistant coach recalls Brown pressing the mic to finish his conversation: “Get your ass back here right now! Don’t fucking walk away when I’m talking to you!”

Unfazed, Williams sashayed away. Right back to the huddle.

The Bears lost, 6-3.

“That’s when you knew the world was coming to an end,” one coach says.

He pauses. He thinks back. The world might’ve ended that day, but in truth? All warning signs were obvious seven months prior. Outside the walls of Halas Hall, hype reigned. Tickets sold in record numbers when the Bears made Williams the No. 1 overall pick. No. 18 jerseys flew off the shelves. This glitzy gazelle in the open field was universally extolled as the charismatic, electric, dare we say Mahomesian playmaker these Bears have lacked since inception in 1919. OTAs arrived, coaches unwrapped this gift from the football gods who’ve cursed this organization for so long and… yikes.

Williams struggled to execute elementary tasks. Every day was a new disaster.

That early, that spring, the Bears changed the snap count to appease Williams. Instead of using a combination of colors and numbers like every other team in the NFL, the Bears reverted to a “Ready, set, go!” straight out of JV football because that’s what the quarterback requested. Aside from the obvious on-field consequences — defenders could tee off — the Bears were establishing a troubling precedent in allowing a rookie to tell them exactly what to do. Veterans couldn’t believe it. “Are you shitting me?” one receiver asked a coach.

When a play call was sent in, he’d stare at this wristband for a painful length of time. “Like it was in another language,” another coach says. Williams verbalized the call in the huddle, it was wrong half the time, and then players would be lined up wrong all over the field. Verbiage was truncated. Huddling was minimized. The playbook, dumbed down. The Bears offense devolved into an exercise of trial and error to fit whatever the USC rookie demanded.

All of which would’ve been manageable if Williams was willing to work. He was not.

For all the talk about wanting to be great, this new quarterback didn’t seem to have the desire. When he wasn’t storming away from a coach, he was telling veteran wide receivers how to run their routes before taking a game rep himself. In the meeting room, he barely said a word and didn’t pay attention. Coaches often caught Williams on the wrong page of the gameplan completely. He blew off film sessions and lifts.

Chicago made him a captain.

Games began.

Chaos reigned.


The 2025 NFL season is here and these Chicago Bears are the most mesmerizing team of them all. Hope’s been restored with the union of a captivating quarterback (Williams) and a brilliant offensive mind (Ben Johnson). In free agency, the Bears rebuilt their offensive line. In the draft, they added weaponry. All offseason, it’s been drilled into your cranium that a bunch of dolts stunted the quarterback’s growth last season. Poor coaching ruining young quarterbacks is a tale old as time. Williams, so the prevailing storyline goes, is finally free. Thus, it’s now time for Chicago to rocket-launch into NFL contention.

When Go Long started phoning sources, this was honestly the direction I expected to trek. We’ve chronicled skeletons past in Chicago and explored the new duo. Yet, if we’ve learned anything since launching our longform site in 2020, it’s that there’s always a shady underbelly to the NFL that too often goes ignored. Life was, indeed, miserable in Chicago last season. But not for the reasons you think.

Williams was more source of turmoil, than victim.

And as always, the stench runs deeper than one person. The Chicago Bears possessed the most treasured asset in all of pro sports — the No. 1 overall pick in a QB-rich NFL Draft — yet proved again to be their own worst enemy.

For this three-part series, Go Long chatted with 32 sources. Coaches, scouts, execs, players and staffers inside Halas Hall guide readers through the sludge. Many have landed new jobs. To share their experiences without fear of retribution they’re granted a condition of anonymity.

The more we dig, the more it’s clear why the Bears have one winning season since 2012.

  • In Part I, we reveal how 2024 spiraled out of control through the eyes of those coaches. A season that included extreme frustrations, a near benching, a late-season revelation and mass firings. “A shitshow,” one says.

  • In Part II, we revisit the farce of a draft process that led GM Ryan Poles to select Williams No. 1 overall. One personnel man recalls the charade as “rigged.”

  • In Part III, we zoom out: Who’s to blame? The Bears have become an organization repellent to independent thought. The GM inherited a bad situation and managed to make it worse with a 15-36 record. All roads in this league tend to lead back to ownership.

Ben Johnson and his staff now stare down the barrel of more disorder than they anticipated.

The quarterback he inherits is not the same species of football junkie.

Former Bears coaches cannot grin and bear it.

No doubt, part of the job is taking bullets for your players. But when one of those players, in their estimation, so blatantly lies about how he’s been coached? They feel no choice but to shed light on what transpired behind closed doors. In Seth Wickersham’s upcoming book, American Kings, Williams told his father that he wasn’t getting any help from the staff. “No one tells me what to watch,” the QB said. “I just turn it on.” When this quote went viral, I was actually on the phone with one former Bears offensive assistant.

He read it aloud, seethed and called it “evil” on Williams’ part to describe last season in such a manner.

“Do you think we’re not going to meet with this kid and teach him shit?” the coach said. “Who would do that? It’s fucking crazy. I don’t get it. You think we want to be bad? It makes me fucking sick.”

Another coach on offense calls Williams’ complaint “bullshit.”

“For him to say it?” the coach adds. “That guy knows what the hell happened.”

Another coach says this entire staff didn’t merely show up in Chicago and forget how to coach. All have prepared players their entire lives. All have been around top quarterbacks before, and this player’s work ethic was the worst most had ever seen.

“Any narrative surrounding that film — if people buy into it — I have some beachfront property in Idaho I want to sell ‘em, too.”

He continues.

“There are grown-man responsibilities. You expect him to put the work in. And I think everybody desires to be great. Wanting to be great is phenomenal. If I go to a local barbershop, there are probably seven guys who wanted to be great players when they were 13 years old. But what you want and what you earn are two different things. This life and the game of football doesn’t give you what you want. I want $50 million. If I want $50 million, I’ve got to go earn $50 million.

“If you can’t sacrifice? There’s no substitute for the work. That’s something he needs to learn.”

Red flags were immediate.

Life only got worse. And worse.



He rarely ever turned the tablet on. That was obvious. The Bears can see how much all players watch film on their devices away from the facility.

Which begs one question: How exactly did the quarterback spend his idle time?

One Bears coach sneers.

“That’s a good question for John Jackson The Third.”

The best place to start is with a player most NFL fans have never heard of in their lives.

Jackson was not amongst the 257 players selected in the 2024 NFL Draft, nor was he even one of the 15 or so UDFA free agent signings each team scoops up those manic hours afterward. Mainly because he’s not a talented football player. The wide receiver caught five passes in four seasons at USC, before totaling a meager 267 receiving yards his final collegiate season on a 2-10 Nevada team. He scored zero touchdowns in 51 games. The good news for Jackson was that his best friend is Williams, and the Bears’ GM was determined to keep his new quarterback smiling.

After participating at rookie camp on a tryout basis, Jackson was given a spot on the 90-man roster and then ate up a practice-squad spot all season long.

When I ask a GM for another team if Jackson was on his radar — at any point — he laughs, then assures it is not normal for a team to stash a quarterback’s buddy on the practice squad.

Bears coaches saw a receiver with no business being in the NFL.

“We all knew why this dude was on the team,” says one coach. “Couldn’t play a lick. And I like the dude. But that’s the lengths they did to kiss Caleb’s ass.

“We kissed his ass from Day 1.”

One coach is so irritated by the mention of this name that he refuses to touch the subject in fear of saying something he’d regret.

Hence, the fine line between building an infrastructure that helps a young pro flourish and outright pampering that player. This small nuisance symbolized a systemic problem. The Bears were willing to twist and contort at every conceivable angle to coddle its No. 1 pick. Throughout the entire draft process, roles flipped. Williams wasn’t interviewing for the Bears, rather the Bears were trying to convince Williams to say “yes” at the altar.

An ass-backward dynamic that spilled right into the actual football once the helmets came on.

On Day 1, Caleb Williams did not present himself as one of the guys eager to learn.

This looked like a kid whose reps asked teams about the possibility of receiving an ownership stake. (“He comes in here,” says one former Bears staffer, “acting like he’s a fucking movie star.”)

One coach who was around Williams a ton last season concedes it’s unfair for any rookie to glide into the league with “Peyton Manning”-level expectations. But this is also the most intellectually taxing position in sports. The only way any quarterback has a shot at pursuing greatness is if they’re “developed” and “molded” and — too often? — he sees prodigious 22- and 23-year-olds crowned by organizations. They’re given too much power.

Labeled a savior in the press. Treated like a savior in real life.

“Obviously if you’re the No. 1 pick, you’re a talented football player,” this coach says. “You probably haven’t had to work your ass off in every aspect of your entire life to be really, really good at football. The degree of separation in this league is not: ‘I ran around San Jose State and threw five touchdowns.’ We won’t play San Jose State. Those cats don’t exist. And so, the mental game that goes on behind the scenes at the quarterback position is huge. Especially the importance of habits. Habits are hard to break whether they’re good or bad.

“He’s super talented but talent by itself? Nobody cares in this league how talented you are.”

Very quickly, all parties involved realized Williams’ immense raw talent would not be enough.

Chicago’s mistake was allowing his worst habits to fester.

That’s why the staff is so floored by his accusation. If anything? They did too much.

A few wins at the end of the ’23 season helped Matt Eberflus save his job and Shane Waldron won the Great Offensive Coordinator Sweepstakes as the man to coach Williams. A process Poles took immense pride in, and why not? Back then, Waldron — a McVay disciple — was one of the hottest names on the coaching market. The Bears’ new staff was ecstatic to marry this Heisman talent with a sophisticated scheme that worked so well for the likes of Jared Goff in Los Angeles and both Russell Wilson and Geno Smith in Seattle.

Williams was not a fan. Williams won.

Almost immediately, the Bears castrated their own playbook.

“What plays we were calling,” one coach says. “How we were calling ‘em. Game planning. Not being able to run plays with alerts and cans and be able to have a run called one way and change it to the other way based on certain leverages of safeties and movements and stuff. He hated all that stuff.

“Everything had to fit what he wanted and what he was comfortable doing. Caleb wanted all this control of the offense, but really couldn't handle it.”

The Bears made their offense as basic as possible with easier formations, fewer motions, limited audibles. Smart centers typically take a mental load off of a rookie quarterback’s pre-snap plate but those centers cannot always see what’s brewing in the secondary — if, say, a safety creeps to the other side and morphs into an unblocked tackler. Williams was unable to keep up with these moving chess pieces. He didn’t realize he needed to motion a receiver over to pick that safety, or flip the run call to the other side.

Endless screw-ups forced the Bears to drastically dwindle their volume of checks.

Up front, Bears offensive line coach Chris Morgan was on McVay’s staff with the Washington Redskins back to 2012, worked with Kyle Shanahan’s NFC-champion Atlanta Falcons in 2016, and his Chicago teams rushed for more yards (5,413) than anyone in the NFL through the 2022 and 2023 seasons that preceded Williams’ arrival. His run scheme, however, requires a level of intelligence and diligence from the quarterback.

“Caleb didn’t want to do it,” one coach says. “Or couldn’t do it.”

Piecing together a functional drive became an “uphill battle all the time.”

Defenses roared off the ball thanks to that predictable snap count and the quarterback’s own sloppy habits. Sometimes, he’d simply stare… and stare… and stare at the defense’s structure. Other times, he’d flash his hands right before the ball was snapped — a split-second tell that served as a starter’s gun for pass rushers foaming at the mouth. On the headset, Morgan would lose his mind: “We’ve got to change the fucking cadence!”

Coaches deleted words out of the play calls. That didn’t help. Coaches tried going no-huddle to limit the number of times Williams would need to regurgitate those play calls. This wasn’t sustainable. All while a convoy of assistants nursed the rookie in every way imaginable. In earsplitting unison, they insist they’ve never seen a quarterback receive more help than Caleb Williams.

He was, in fact, taught exactly how to watch NFL film.

“They were babysitting sessions,” says one coach, “as far as walking through the process of how to study film, what to look at, whatever.”

Williams spent so many hours with both Waldron and quarterbacks coach Kerry Joseph that one person on staff thought the Bears might’ve even been breaking CBA rules.

The objective was clear: Make this offense as Caleb-friendly as possible.

“Shane went overboard in trying to help him,” says one Bears assistant who watched closely. “Shane tried to, well, ‘This is what they did at USC.’ In my mind, I’m looking at it, ‘It’s the NFL. Who gives a shit what they did at USC?’ He was bending over backwards trying to figure out the best way to reach him.

“Shane tried. Shane, I thought he went too far to try.”

No wonder one of the ex-OC’s closest friends in the business says Williams claims are still eating him up inside. Any suggestion that the Bears abandoned the rookie is at such odds with reality that, to them, it hints at a bigger problem: an absence of character. The opportunity to go the extra mile at home was quite literally in Williams’ palms. He’d receive three blitz tapes each week from the O-Line coaches. Each week, Joseph spent seven hours straight splicing up cut-ups: down and distances, third downs, two-minute, red zone, etc. “Wasting seven hours,” one colleague adds. “It obviously wasn’t watched.”

In Washington, No. 2 pick Jayden Daniels developed habits of his own by showing up to work at 5:30 a.m. each morning.

In Chicago, nobody recalls seeing Williams show up remotely that early. Extra film sessions were always budgeted into the schedule, too. Centers and quarterbacks congregated for a pass-protection meeting in the AM. Technically, they were optional. But the only player who blew them off was the player who obviously needed them most: Williams. He was a no-show, one source notes, “numerous times.”

He skipped lifting sessions. When strength coaches tried giving the QB new times to show up, he supplied excuses why he couldn’t make it.

“Talking about being great and being great are two different things,” says one coach. “I don’t care what you say. I care what you do.”

Adds another: “Ask Tyson Bagent if we coached the quarterbacks.”

Whenever he was physically present, Williams rarely engaged. One player in the offensive meeting room recalls assistant offensive line coach Jason Houghtaling starting meetings with a gentle reminder: “Everybody is responsible for this protection. Everybody has to lock in. Everybody has to work together. Everybody has to be on their shit. Not just some people.” It was his gentle way of trying to get Williams to give a shit. Because whenever Houghtaling — any Bears coach for that matter — directly asked the quarterback questions, he had no answers. Crickets. He was in La La Land.

“He’d give you the look, like ‘Why are you talking to me?’” recalls one coach. “Well, you’re the starting quarterback. That’s why. He wasn’t answering questions. It was strange.”

Bagent, the No. 2 QB, did supply the answers. Repeatedly.

One coach brings up the visual of Williams sobbing uncontrollably in his mother’s arms after a 52-42 loss to Washington in college. To him, this was damning because of what you don’t see on the screen. When the going got tough — when emotions overwhelmed — Williams ditched everyone who sacrificed alongside him that night: his teammates. “It’s always somebody else’s fault,” this coach says. Right down to body language. Veteran receiver D.J. Moore snapped at his quarterback once on this front, telling Williams flat-out: “We don’t do that shit.”

If Williams didn’t like a coach’s teaching point, he was liable to strut away in a huff. This started early, in training camp, and lingered into the season. Specific examples are shared. Nobody was off limits, but Waldron was easily iced out the most. Quieter and non-confrontational, Waldron never wanted to escalate the situation.

Practices. Games. The setting never mattered. Williams acted as if he was above correction.

“He didn’t want to hear anything,” one coach says. “He didn’t like criticism, so he’d just fucking get up and leave. We’d be like, ‘This motherfucker.’ Get up and leave! I would see this guy storming off and hear them talking in the headset about Caleb. You look over, and there’s Caleb fucking walking away all pouty. Then, he would sit all the way on the other side of the benches.

“So disrespectful. But Shane didn’t want to cause an even worse scene.”

The best teams in the NFL, of course, police themselves.

Leaders sniff this out. Step in.

One of the team’s assistant coaches, who had a strong sense of the locker room, never saw a genuine connection between Williams and teammates. It was weird. The same players who were pissed off by the quarterback’s immaturity were too afraid to address the problem to Williams’ face. They’d complain about the rookie behind his back. Often, for good reason. They knew Williams wouldn’t listen to a word they had to say. Coaches and players both call Williams “abrasive.” Not in an aggressive way. (He’s not aggressive — “at all,” emphasizes one coach.) Rather, he’s portrayed as petulant. Sour.

All while Williams had no problem telling veteran wide receivers like Keenan Allen and Moore how to run their routes before taking one NFL snap himself. (That didn’t go over well.)

September closed in and Williams was named one of the Bears’ eight captains. News that was celebrated by the team as evidence the rookie had ingratiated himself to teammates. Uh… not exactly. Multiple coaches admit to Go Long that the team cooked the voting process to ensure a “C” was stitched on his chest. One assistant even laughs at the suggestion that players would anoint Williams one of their captains. It was obvious to everyone that Williams was not an alpha male. When the rookie captain was asked to break down the entire team, it caught him off-guard. He didn’t know what to say. His delivery was so awkward the Bears stopped asking Williams to do it. Nobody understood how a No. 1 pick could be such a mute during practice.

“He tried to portray himself as an alpha and he definitely was not an alpha in any type of situation,” one ex-Bears coach says. “It was forced leadership. Everything was a charade. There was nothing authentic.”

One of Williams’ perceived strengths out of USC — galvanizing teammates— is described en masse by Bears sources as a weakness. One veteran player who liked Williams as a person admits his body language and leadership were awful. The best gauge for any quarterback’s leadership is what those 300-pound offensive linemen think. On this front, there were many issues.

All of it created a poisonous tonic for NFL Sundays. Call of Duty sprees may seem innocent enough but those bloody three hours on Sunday are inevitable — QB1s coast at their own peril. Lions head coach Dan Campbell hit the bull’s eye when he called this league an unstoppable “freight train.” That’s why Friday and Saturday are typically flawless dress rehearsals ‘round the NFL. By then, everyone’s locked in.

On the field, the ball never touches the grass. Off it, the QB has every answer to the test.

Here, both days were disturbing omens.

“Ask anybody,” one coach says. “We had the worst Friday practices in the history of the NFL every Friday. Those are supposed to be perfect. We’d come off the field and you’re like, ‘Whoa.’ There’s all kinds of issues. Messy. People know where they’re supposed to go, but the call is not right. He’s not accurate. The tempo is bad. We’re back in the huddle because he didn’t get the call right. That started early and never improved.”

Onto Saturday, as Chicago’s offense reviewed plays on the call sheet, coaches would take a look at Williams and see that he was looking at the wrong part of the sheet or a different page completely.

Discombobulation predictably reigned. Coaches knew their 4-2 start to the season was a mirage, and the dam broke in spectacular fashion.

Ahead of a showdown with the Washington Commanders — a homecoming for their quarterback — Williams told people during warmups his stomach was sick. Many weren’t buying it. The rookie who said on “Hard Knocks” that he never gets nervous appeared visibly shaken. Williams started 4 of 16 and the Bears went scoreless on their first seven drives. (“All of a sudden you’re sick?’” says a coach. “I saw that coming before when we took warmups.”)

Williams snapped out of his funk and completed a few clutch throws to give Chicago a 15-12 lead with 25 seconds left. One 22-yard beauty to Moore before getting walloped by linebacker Bobby Wagner was damn impressive.

You know the rest.

Daniels launched a 52-yard Hail Mary to win it.

Williams pursed his lips and stormed off in disgust, only pausing to shout something vulgar toward the defense on the field.

If the team’s foundation was “chipped,” as one coach says, this play “shattered it” completely. When teammates eventually saw the viral video of cornerback Tyrique Stevenson taunting a Commanders fan during the play, they were livid. “They wanted to fucking murder him,” one coach recalls. “I would expect nothing less from him.” Stevenson apologized in a team meeting, but it was too late. Nobody wanted to hear it. The Bears never recovered.

Next, they were drilled by the Arizona Cardinals, 29-9. (“A car crash,” one coach says.) That week, Poles stressed patience. The GM told his scouts that Williams’ path would be “different,” that he was not a 2- or 3-star quarterback who worked his way up. He’d need to get his bachelor’s degree before his masters, Poles noted, and rely on the talent around him.

Chicago was then humiliated by the New England Patriots, 19-3. (“It was fucking embarrassing.”) That day, Williams went 16 of 30 for 120 yards, was sacked nine times and the Bears went 1 of 14 on third down — their worst mark since 2012. All against a team that had the worst record in the NFL. Boos at Soldier Field got loud. Fans chanted “Fire Flus!” Morale drained. Any relationship between Williams and Waldron cratered beyond repair. One video caught Williams shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the OC. He refused to sit by Waldron much of the game.

This is when the internal blame game intensified. Between plays — on the headset — coaches could hear Waldron sending plays in with time to spare on the play clock. But as Williams stepped into the huddle, he’d stare as his wristband for an extra four, five, six seconds and the other 10 players assumed the coordinator was taking his sweet time. After all, those 10 can’t hear what Williams hears.

“That’s what started everything,” one coach says. “That was the disaster. That’s what got everybody pissed off, and that was the start of the division between the coaches and the players — the finger pointing.”

Right around then is also when word leaked in the locker room that Williams was squandering his free time playing video games. Teammates were pissed. Tight end Marcedes Lewis, the 40-year-old leader of the room, spoke up.

All parties involved knew something needed to change.

And even the players could now see that part of the problem was the first overall pick.

The next 48 hours defined Chicago’s season.

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Finally, months past due, the Chicago Bears decided to get tough with their rookie quarterback. When coaches reconvened Monday morning after their repulsive loss to the Patriots, head coach Matt Eberflus informed his staff they’d hold Caleb Williams accountable by giving him a dose of competition in the form of Tyson Bagent. The split wouldn’t be 50/50, but the Bears plotted to work Bagent in with the starters more to make Williams earn those starts on Sunday.

For too long, back to the spring, the Bears gave the USC wunderkind everything. It backfired.

There was some talk about moving Waldron up to the booth but Eberflus assured that nobody was going to be fired.

A move from Caleb to Bagent might’ve shocked fans, but not those who witnessed how both operate day to day. The 2023 UDFA out of tiny Shepherd College, the son of an arm-wrestling champ who had no problems whatsoever regurgitating the team’s most complex play calls, mastered all checks in this offense and could sling it in his own right. If the objective was to win, a switch made total sense.

“Awesome kid. Awesome. I love him,” says one ex-Bears assistant. “He knew everything. He knew how to function. He was in and out of the huddle. His cadence was great. He could tell you every answer to every protection question out there and every run question. Tyson Bagent’s a great one.”

Most telling, there were many players who supported a move to Bagent. As everything got worse and worse — and the Bears dropped to 4-5 — a growing number started to look at each other and ask, “When are we going to make a change?” Initially, one offensive coach pointed to the vets Moore and Lewis as “ringleaders” who wanted Williams benched. But they were not alone. Another coach on offense states there were far more than two players advocating for a quarterback swap and that the players’ message was absolutely conveyed to Poles.

Says another coach: “Those players wanted to bench Caleb the week after the New England game. The players were the ones wanting him out after the New England game before Shane got fired.”

All parties involved seemed to agree that the best thing for Williams was a wake-up call.

All parties, that is, except Poles and the front office.

On Tuesday AM, Eberflus called another staff meeting to inform everyone that Waldron was fired and assistant Thomas Brown would be promoted to OC. There also would be no Bagent sightings. Poles made it abundantly clear to all that Williams was the team’s undisputed, unambiguous starter. “The scalp he gave them,” a front-office source adds, “was Shane Waldron.”

All of which amounted to damning whiplash for the organization, a Butkus-like clothesline into the mud. Here were the Bears, fully prepared to give a quarterback who’s heard Yes his entire life a valuable lesson in No. This league’s 104-year history is teeming with stories of 22- and 23-year-olds who needed a crash landing to rock bottom. The No. 1 pick one year prior, Carolina’s Bryce Young, was benched and learned from the experience. Hall of Famers John Elway, Terry Bradshaw, Drew Brees and Troy Aikman were all benched for various reasons early in their careers.

In Chicago, there were no such cojones. Powers that be chose to spoil Williams. Coaches understand why any GM for any team would veto the benching of a No. 1 overall pick. Doing so is the ultimate self-own in sports. The problem here is that Poles never seemed interested in having harsh conversations that’d benefit Williams in the long term.

The big, bad media served as a frightening boogeyman.

“I’m amazed by people in leadership positions who avoid confrontation,” says one of the Bears assistant coaches. “You can’t avoid confrontation. It’s important to be strategic with how you have confrontation. There’s a right way and the wrong way to do that. But problems are problems. And they don’t solve themselves. It was more about the media outrage. Ryan was worried about standing at the podium and answering questions about why that happened, which I don’t think is that difficult.”

Instead, it was Williams who stood at the podium that week and a few of Waldron’s colleagues were irked by his nonchalance. They believed he gently side-stepped accountability to gently paint himself as a victim of circumstance. The same rookie who’d often skip lifts was downright bubbly inside the weight room, too. Dapping people up, one source recalls him acting like this was the happiest day of his life. Adds one coach: “This fucker didn’t take any accountability for anything and threw people under the bus.” Then again, Williams had good reason to celebrate. His alliance with Poles packed more punch than any rapport he could’ve established with any coach.

Everyone knew there was nothing they could say to persuade Poles to sit his quarterback.

These 48 hours were an inflection point.

“What are you going to do?” says one coach. “He is the golden boy.”

Next came back-to-back-to-back crushing last-second defeats to all three NFC North teams. Williams was dynamite vs. Brian Flores’ Minnesota Vikings defense in a 30-27 overtime loss, throwing for 340 yards and two touchdowns. A dash of hope extinguished four days later under the Thanksgiving spotlight at Ford Field. All of America had its fun laughing at Eberflus bungle this game away against the Detroit Lions. Taking a timeout with you into the locker room is a Grade-A coaching crime. When Williams was sacked at the Lions’ 41-yard line — 32 seconds left, down 23-20 — Eberflus could’ve saved the rookie from himself by calling a timeout to regroup.

Slide a headset over your ears, however, and you’ll see there’s more to the story.

The play call is relayed promptly with Williams told to run a QB draw (the same play as before) and then call a timeout. The game clock bleeds from 30 seconds… to 20 seconds… to 15 seconds. The mic cuts out and Williams ditches the draw for a deep shot to Rome Odunze. (“He’s going to snap it, right?!” Eberflus says on the headset.) On the sideline, Bears players and coaches demonstrably spin their hands to compel their quarterback to do so.

Finally, with five seconds left, Williams snaps the ball and throws a deep incompletion to Odunze.

Coaches believe Williams panicked and assumed this was the last play of the game.

“That’s why he let the clock run,” says one coach. “He’s thinking, ‘OK, we need to throw it towards the end zone.’ … It’s not like Flus is an idiot. That couldn’t be further from what happened. That’s part of being the coach. We all accept that, but there’s a lot more to it than, ‘Hey, why didn’t this dude call timeout?’”

Adds another: “I don’t even know what he’s thinking, but he basically makes it into the last play of the game and throws up a gimmie ball.”

And another: “He fucked up. But he’s not going to get blamed for it.”

Afterward, Williams said he was hesitant to call a timeout himself after doing so earlier in the drive. Also long forgotten was a play with 46 seconds left, when Williams short-armed a wide-open Moore on a crossing route that would’ve resulted in a touchdown. Inside the locker room, vet cornerback Jaylon Johnson went ballistic. The thermostat on Eberflus’ seat cranked to volcanic.

In Washington, the team that completed a Hail Mary on Oct. 27 was on a rampage toward the NFC Championship Game with their rookie quarterback.

In Chicago, the two men running both the offense and the defense were both terminated with five games still to play. Eberflus became the first coach in Bears’ century-plus history to get fired midseason, officially putting this season on life support. Survivors could only shake their heads at an organization caving to public pressure. Everything spamming Twitter, shouted on the radio and written in newspapers directly fueled the day-to-day operations.

“An unwinnable scenario,” says one coach. “No different than decisions around benching the quarterback and having to deal with the media outlash vs. what’s best for the football team, when you decide to fire coaches within season and also give the same person more responsibilities, they don’t give a shit about what it takes to be a really good football coach. You don’t just fire both coordinators in-season — and one of ‘em happens to be the head coach — and expect to have positive results.

“At that point, I don’t think they really cared about winning. It’s more about having a response that the media accepts.”

Once he’s finished cursing Caleb Williams for the 17th or 18th time, this coach who’s been around some of the best quarterbacks of this generation laughs, and laughs, and laughs a little more. He knows it’s no accident that Williams pinpointed “Shane Waldron” — and not “Thomas Brown” — as the coach who did him dirty in multiple reports that’ve trickled to the public.

“He knows Thomas will beat his ass,” the coach says. “He knows better than to name Thomas’ name.”

Eberflus is described by former assistants as a very pleasant man. Albeit, a little dorky. Waldron is similarly docile. Brown, on the contrary, is old school. Brown promised to bring a completely different coaching style to Williams those final five weeks. Odds are, Williams never experienced anything quite like this his entire football life. In a team meeting, Brown minced zero words. Without calling out players by name, he asked everyone why they were so afraid to hold Williams accountable when the Bears do it with everyone else on the roster. If the right tackle botches a combination block, the tight end speaks up because it directly affects the success of the play. If players think the quarterback is doing something wrong, he implored, tell him.

Quarterback may be the most important position in the sport, he explained, but it’s not untouchable. In fact, the opposite is true. Caleb was the handpicked savior of the franchise, thus Caleb needed to be held to a higher standard.

Brown tried like hell to inject a novel dose of accountability and professionalism into the most vital employee of an $8.8 billion company.

“When it changed,” one coach in that team meeting recalls, “everybody was like, ‘Oh, good. Now he’s going to be a little bit stricter. That’s what we need.’ Until he was strict on Caleb, and then Caleb didn’t want any part of it. He didn’t want to deal with Thomas. Every team meeting, Thomas was on everybody’s ass. He wasn’t putting up with anybody’s shit. Your typical hardnosed coach: ‘Now, we’re going to be physical. We’re going to whoop their ass. No fucking excuses. I don’t want to hear anything.’ Just how you think it would be — until guys started feeling like, ‘Oh, now he's picking on me.’”

It was a valiant effort.

It was all too little, too late.

The same issues chafed. During one routine walkthrough the night before Chicago’s rematch with Detroit, inside the team hotel, Williams flubbed four of the first eight play calls. The formation was backwards. Or he forgot to motion a player. Or he botched a shift. (“We were like, ‘Oh my gosh, we still can’t get this shit right,’” one coach recalls.)

Against the Lions’ decimated defense, Williams still managed to complete 26 of 40 passes for 334 yards and two TDs in a 34-17 loss. Not even the staunchest skeptics can deny Williams’ arm talent and Houdini escapability. Earlier this offseason, Go Long chatted at length with his private coach who illustrated a “perfect storm” brewing with the team’s new head coach. Will Hewlett has worked with Williams for years and defended his QB’s work ethic. “Caleb’s the type of guy you have to be like, ‘Dude, stop. We’re done. Get off the field.’ And then toughness, that dude is a tough son of a gun. … There’s never been a moment or a thought of ‘Is this kid going to be able to handle this?’”

That’s what’s so maddening. He can be wildly entertaining. He can create magic.

Despite everything, he threw 354 straight passes without an interception — a rookie record. It’s not as if the league’s MVP, Josh Allen, set defenses aflame as a rookie in 2018. He completed a meager 52 percent of his passes. Patrick Mahomes played all of 62 snaps. Joe Burrow went 2-7-1 and tore his ACL. Lions OC Ben Johnson saw enough in Williams that day at Solider Field to warm up to the Bears’ job and later raved about the quarterback’s electrifying skillset at his introductory press conference.

If only Johnson could’ve then heard what Bears coaches did on the headset four days later when the Bears hosted the Seattle Seahawks on TNF.

Those on the sideline will never forget the calm, cool ‘n collected Brown losing it on Williams during that slopfest.

Their aforementioned exchange was so heated that sources are surprised it was never leaked.

That same game also hinted at an underlying condition ailing the Bears all season. Not once, not twice, but three times, the Bears rehearsed their first offensive play the night before. Williams trots onto the field, play-by-play man Al Michaels praises the rookie’s 4:1 TD-to-INT ratio and you can see the quarterback closely reading the play call off his wristband. As he walks to the line, he stares at the wristband again, sticks his mouthpiece in and completely forgets to motion tight end Cole Kmet over to the right side.

Running back D’Andre Swift rams into a swarm of white jerseys for a two-yard gain.

“Caleb looks over to the sideline at Thomas,” one coach says, “like it’s Thomas’ fault.”

Sadly enough, this play on Dec. 26 gave a few coaches flashbacks to the first week of April. Back when Williams flew to Chicago on his only pre-draft visit. That early, coaches could sense that he’d struggle with basic huddle calls and forget to motion players. And it wasn’t until later — right around that second-to-last game of the season — that coaches say they learned their quarterback had a learning disability.

Multiple Bears sources tell Go Long they’ve seen evidence that Williams has dyslexia. They also believe that the GM, who has access to everything, was well aware of this condition before the Bears made the quarterback their first overall pick.

A learning disability does not have to be a deal-breaker, of course. Many highly successful pros are open about the condition. Packers pass rusher Rashan Gary owns it as his “My Cause My Cleats” initiative. Frank Gore rushed for 16,000 yards, the third-most in NFL history. Savants such as Albert Einstein, Pablo Picasso and Magic Johnson revolutionized their respective fields with dyslexia. Yet rather than do what a normal NFL team would with such a gigantic decision — meticulously chart a plan — the Bears, coaches and scouts tell Go Long, either suppressed this information or overlooked it. At worst, it’s a cover up. At best, gross negligence.

Either way, the offensive coaches had zero clue.

Not during OTAs. Not during training camp. Not even as the losses mounted and pink slips flew.

Understandably, they were incensed.

One source says Brown confronted Poles late in the season to point out that this information would’ve been helpful months prior. Go Long was not able to contact Eberflus for this series, but assistants and scouts alike believe the head coach was kept in the dark. “There’s no way (Eberflus) wouldn’t tell Shane and those guys,” one coach says. “He doesn’t operate like that. He’s not going to risk getting fired not to tell Shane a big secret. What are we talking about? There’s no way.” Adds one source in the front office: “Poles is still running the organization. He should be in communication with the coordinators.”

The person in charge of handling such matters is the team clinician, one source says, and the team clinician (Carla Suber) determines how a player then works with coaches and teammates to function at an optimal level.

“We would’ve fucking coached him differently,” says one former offensive assistant, who believes Poles knew. “This is criminal. Withholding this shit? They should have been fired. They knew. The GM and them knew.”

Poles and Williams were not made available by the Bears for this series.

Coaches tried a million different things from May to January. But if everyone was on the same page, one coach posits they would’ve used pictures instead of a wristband. One says the teaching methods for everyone would’ve been different, right down to how they ask questions. Another coach notes that there’s more to dyslexia than simply “reinventing” the back part of a sentence. He cites cognitive and attention elements and different communication approaches. (“So that definitely would’ve been helpful to know before the draft.”) One ex-Bears coach says he worked for a dyslexic coordinator once who simply spelled out “left hash” and “right hash” on his call sheet, instead of trying to visually flip the call.

It's not hard to see how this could theoretically slip through the scouting cracks.

Williams was the first known prospect to ever skip medical evaluations at the NFL Combine, and then only visited one team: the Bears. Back then, nobody had a clue if Williams even wanted to play for the Bears. His camp was exploring ways to circumvent the draft itself. Several team sources we spoke to believe Poles protected this intel so he wouldn’t spook the quarterback. Silence that no doubt contributed to a 5-12 record.

And yet, when I ask each coach point-blank if they believe a learning disability or work habits affected Williams most, nobody hesitates.

“How big of an impact the disability has,” one coach says, “it’s hard to quantify that until everything else has been X’d out as far as preparing yourself the right way and working to put yourself in a position to be successful. Until the work ethic and the process is solidified it’s hard to say anything is worse than that.”

Another coach interpreted Williams staring at the wrong page of a gameplan during meetings as laziness. Not confusion.

“Everybody’s locked in on one thing,” he says, “and you’re sitting back looking at a completely different part. It’s hard to sit back and say, ‘Oh yeah, I was tuned in and those guys weren’t coaching me.’”

Adds one front-office source: “The learning disability, that’s not his fault. But he’s not putting in the work, either. He’s lazy.”

He didn’t loaf to JaMarcus Russell proportions, but he wasn’t exactly gathering receivers together for routes post-practice like the quarterback he replaced: Justin Fields. Backyard football, he learned, does not fly against professionals. And to coaches, Williams’ attitude through the spring and summer makes perfect sense. He’s the first collegiate superstar of the NIL era. He earned $10 million via partnerships with the likes of Dr. Pepper, Nissan, Wendy’s and United before playing one pro down. From the night Williams won the Heisman Trophy as an underclassman on, he was universally dubbed the slam-dunk, can’t-miss, Midas-Touch future No. 1 overall pick.

Red flags were uncovered along the way. But red flags were treated as minor annoyances, not topics worthy of vibrant debate because — by then? — the Bears were in full-fledged recruiting mode. The aim was to stay in the quarterback’s good graces.

“Everybody was kissing his ass to get him here,” says one coach. “So he’s thinking, ‘I ain’t got to listen to any of these guys. You should be kissing my ass.’ Because we were! Why would he change?”

This coach dubs Williams the the poster boy for everything wrong in today’s NIL world. Hate it. Love it. This is the new world order in college sports. Athletes should’ve been compensated for their services a long time ago but the wild-west nature of college football and the transfer portal has made it much more difficult to find players wired for the crucible that is professional football. These days, the best of the very best are surrounded by agents and yes-men early as 14 and 15 years old. Coaches know if they criticize one of their 5-stars — or, God forbid, bench him — they run the risk of that 5-star transferring.

In the NFL, there is no escape hatch. No cakewalk games.

Hardship is a guarantee.

College coaches are almost always less than honest when you hunt for the truth. Even then, the Bears coaches detected smoke when it comes to Williams’ relationships with teammates — one cites the “We a team!” video. USC players appeared to bond when their star quarterback skipped the bowl game. Further, how Williams put up those gaudy numbers was also concerning.

“You’re making miraculous plays,” says one coach, “but it’s unnecessary because you skipped three reads and had to spin around in a circle twice and juke some cat who you’re better than and you made a miraculous throw. That’s phenomenal. But in this league — more times than not — you’re going to get body-slammed. You’re not going to juke that dude who plays defensive end. He’s bigger, faster, stronger than you and doesn’t care about you being Caleb Williams.

“There were enough red flags and signs. We just didn’t address it early on. And the best time to fix the problem is right now. And the longer you allow it to fester, the harder it becomes to change.”

All while Williams walks down fashion runways, attends Louis Vuitton shows and poses in a slew of different outfits for an Esquire photoshoot. He paints his nails. He was voted GQ’s most stylish athlete. Quarterbacks need a life outside of X’s and O’s. Quarterbacks don’t need to eat avocado ice cream, wear recovery pajamas and obsess over the sport to a Tom Brady extreme.

Win games, and nobody will care. All eccentricities will be celebrated.

Lose games, and one Bears coach who got to know Williams closely believes this fashionista side could become “a point of contention and distraction.”

Even though Williams was held accountable inside Halas Hall those final five weeks, the national narrative outside the building sped 100 mph the other direction: Williams was “overcoming” coaching and “overcoming” the O-Line while getting sacked 68 times, the third-most in NFL history. Coaches have a sinking feeling the QB bought into everything he was hearing on ESPN. As Chicago limped to the finish line, they didn’t sense any sincere soul searching. Brown tried. One source in the building shares that Brown flatly told Williams that this 2024 season — in the public’s mind — was on the coaches. The coaches aren’t good enough for you. But next year? Once a new staff is hired? It’ll be on you, Caleb. One hundred percent.

Everyone loves a redemption story. Caleb Williams is salvageable.

If, coaches add, Williams admits what worked in college will not work in the pros. He says everything right at the podium, but now must back up the rhetoric with action.

As in, a total self-audit.

“He’s always blaming everybody — this dude’s a coach killer man,” one of his offensive coaches from ‘24 says. “I know how he treated other people, and that’s what makes me sick.”

Oddly enough, in D.C., nobody speaks about Jayden Daniels in such terms. Or Drake Maye in New England, Bo Nix in Denver, J.J. McCarthy in Minnesota and Michael Penix Jr. in Atlanta.

These Chicago Bears had their pick of any quarterback they desired in a loaded class.

Take a seat inside these draft meetings.

But, please. Don’t speak up.

If you’re not interested in Caleb Williams being the No. 1 pick, your opinion is not welcomed.

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The Epstein Cover-Up at the FBI

https://www.muellershewrote.com/p/the-epstein-cover-up-at-the-fbi?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email

As many of you know by now, Senator Dick Durbin penned a letter to Pam Bondi two days ago asking questions about information his office received from a protected whistleblower. The letter read, in part:

According to information my office received, Attorney General Bondi then pressured the FBI to put approximately 1,000 personnel in its Information Management Division (IMD), including the Record/Information Dissemination Section (RIDS), which handles all requests submitted by the public under the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) and Privacy Act, on 24-hour shifts to review approximately 100,000 Epstein-related records in order to produce more documents that could then be released on an arbitrarily short deadline. This effort, which reportedly took place from March 14 through the end of March, was haphazardly supplemented by hundreds of FBI New York Field Office personnel, many of whom lacked the expertise to identify statutorily-protected information regarding child victims and child witnesses or properly handle FOIA requests.

My office was told that these personnel were instructed to "flag" any records in which

President Trump was mentioned.

Despite tens of thousands of personnel hours reviewing and re-reviewing these Epstein-related records over the course of two weeks in March, it took DOJ more than three additional months to officially find there is "no incriminating 'client list," and the memorandum with this finding includes no mention of the whistleblower or additional documents, the existence of which Attorney General Bondi publicly claimed on February 27.

This letter was made public right after I had filed a FOIA request for all the Epstein and Maxwell Grand Jury testimony (see my last post on Substack.) When I saw that over one thousand people had been put to work reviewing the Epstein files, I put a call out on my BlueSky account:

In the 24 hours since, I’ve received several messages, including from a former analyst that was assigned to review the files, and a few things stood out to me.

First, approximately 1,000 personnel in the Information Management Division (IMD) and the FBI New York Field Office were assigned to this task, confirming the whistleblower account made to Senator Durbin’s office. I can also confirm that a log exists tracking the mentions of Donald Trump in the files, and that there were approximately 100,000 files containing roughly 300,000 pages. Individual analysts were told to flag mentions of Trump by document and page number by logging them in an Excel spreadsheet, then they’d hand in their spreadsheet at the end of their (sometimes 24 or even 48-hour) shift. But it’s important to note that the agents were not told to flag Trump until later in a process that began mid-March.

The process of reviewing the Epstein and Maxwell files was chaotic, and the orders were constantly changing - sometimes daily. One person I spoke to on the condition of anonymity said that many agents spent more time waiting for new instructions than they did processing files. But here’s what caught my attention: the files were stored on a shared drive that anyone in the division could access. Normally, access is only granted to those working on a project, but because of the hurried nature of the exercise, the usual permission restrictions were not in place. Additionally, the internal SharePoint site the bureau ended up using to distribute the files toward the end did not have the usual restricted permissions. This left the Epstein and Maxwell files open to viewing by a much larger group of people than previously thought.

Regarding the ever-changing nature of the instructions, which one source described as “full panic mode,” there were at least four different review instructions. Keeping in mind that the Record/Information Dissemination Section (RIDS) are trained in FOIA redactions but many in the IMD are not, there were multiple video training sessions that went out on an unclassified network on what to mark for redaction, what not to mark, and how to record things that needed to be flagged. That means that video exists of trainers explaining the process of flagging instances of Donald Trump appearing in the files, and those videos went out on unclassified networks within the bureau. It’s also of note that the trainers toward the end were folks from the Department of Justice, and not the FBI.

At first, the analysts were told to mark nothing. This was roundly rejected by the analysts, who were then told to not think about it as releasing the information - including victims names - to the public, but to think about it as releasing it to the Attorney General. It was assumed that Bondi and Patel wanted all the information, including the victim’s names and information. Analysts were told that what would be released would be solely up to Pam Bondi. Many feared that the victim’s information would be released or used for nefarious purposes. Eventually, lawyers from the Department of Justice were assigned to the project to oversee what was being flagged for redaction.

That changed pretty quickly and the analysts were next told to mark the victim’s names for redaction. Then soon after that, they were told to mark all other Personal Identifiable Information (PII) such as social security numbers and addresses. Then they were told to mark all descriptions of illicit acts for redaction. Then finally, they were instructed to keep a spreadsheet of instances when Trump was mentioned. After the spreadsheets of mentions of Trump were handed in, they were stitched together in one master list. I was not able to learn how many mentions of Donald Trump were on that master list.

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As far as content, there was one confirmed mention of Donald Trump in the files reviewed by an analyst who again spoke on the condition of anonymity. Beyond that, there were other instances of Trump appearing in the files, but the number of times and to what extent is unknown.

But the log exists.

Something else that stands out is the potential stress and possible trauma created by the review of the files. They included photos of yacht parties and photo shoots that some analysts weren’t prepared for. The photos accompanied victim testimony, and in one instance, Epstein had instructed a group of young girls, many safely assumed to be minors, to remove their clothes and pose nude on the beach. “It was the casual coercion of it that hit me,” one analyst said.

After the review was complete, the DoJ and FBI decided not to release anything. That surprised analysts who thought for sure that a scrubbed version of the files would be released. From March 14th until its completion, the analysts assigned to review the files at IMD were told not to leave the building - working long shifts under chaotic and ever-changing conditions with exposure to disturbing materials. They did end up letting some analysts go home for short periods of time, but then they’d be right back in the office reviewing files. Morale was abysmal.

But there is a log of instances Donald Trump is mentioned in the files, there are video and PDF trainings instructing analysts to flag Trump, there were multiple instances of Trump appearing in the files, Patel and Bondi wanted victim information and PII, and sloppiness means that more people than previously known had access to the Epstein and Maxwell files. And while there was no indication of a ready-made, A to Z client list beyond the little black book that’s already public, “to say there’s nothing or to say it’s a hoax? Bullshit.”

If you are one of the people who reviewed these files or took the training, please feel free to reach out to me on Signal at Muellershewrote.23; I will keep you anonymous. And while all my content is always free, I hope you’ll consider becoming a paid subscriber to support independent media.

~AG

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Dingus of the Week: Everyone Banning Books

https://www.patreon.com/posts/140389335?collection=1743673

This is the Weekly Dingus. The Friday newsletter, where I round up my internet reads, share a drink recipe, and vent about something really dingusy that happened in the news. This week, it’s anyone trying to ban books. But it could be anyone? Maybe it’s a boat? Maybe it’s the New York Times? There is only one way to find out….SUBSCRIBE.

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The man who ruins fantasy drafts

https://www.sbnation.com/2014/3/3/5466012/the-man-who-ruins-fantasy-drafts

It’s one of the strangest paradoxes of the sports internet. Fantasy sports are generally fun to do, if mostly fun in the way that a Tamagotchi hacked to provide maximum disappointment is fun. By and large, having a fantasy team or three is a way to care more about a thing we already care about, and a bit of light and un-serious intellectual exercise. So: mostly harmless, and mostly good.

The paradoxical part is that this mostly harmless and mostly good thing also makes people into total fuming jerks with hilariously upside-down priorities. There is, really, only one way to engage them. That is what Stefan -- a Canadian stand-up comedian and writer who goes by @boring_as_heck on Twitter -- does. Specifically, he goes into Yahoo! online fantasy mock drafts and ruins them.

Anyone can ruin a fantasy draft. You may well have done it yourself, by being late or drunk or not paying sufficient attention to whether or not Frank Gore has been taken when obviously he has it’s like the ninth round. What makes Stefan’s work different is how he leverages the seething brodeo vibes in the mock draft room for maximum effect. It’s not complicated, really -- Stefan’s draft strategy is mostly to take the Most Ridiculous Player Available -- but the result, as you can see in his destructions of fantasy football and fantasy baseball drafts, is spectacular. Stefan is gearing up for fantasy baseball season, but took the time to answer a few questions about his work.

There’s a very specific self-serious dorkery that’s unique to random online fantasy drafts with strangers; it’s one of the weirder vibes on the internet. No one knows anyone, everyone’s really locked in on this insignificant thing and dead serious about it, there’s a sort of diffuse cloud of bro-ed out peevishness. Was there a specific inspiration that led you to decide to ruin all that in this particular way?

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I was in a random public fantasy hockey league like 10 years ago, give or take, and some dude on purpose picked the worst team imaginable. People were PISSED. Cursing this guy out, threatening him, whatever. All I could think was “this guy is a genius.” It was a fantasy league with complete strangers, no money involved, and people were just melting down. Basically it was like my equivalent of the apple falling on Isaac Newton’s head, if the apple pissed off dozens of overly serious fantasy sports dudes.

Fantasy sports bros seem to have maybe the most significant humor deficit on the internet, with the possible exception of people commenting on political articles at newspaper websites. Why make them your metier for this particular endeavor?

Yeah, I mean that’s basically why I chose to ruin mock drafts. The people who take them super seriously are just asking for it. They aren’t even real fantasy drafts. They’re practice fantasy drafts, and on Yahoo!, there’s like 20 new ones every five minutes. It’s not hard to say “Well, this one is a wash, let’s just wait literally 45 seconds for a new one.” Also I guarantee that most of the people who participate in multiple mock fantasy drafts probably aren’t going to win their leagues. It’s going to be the dude who just picks the players he’s heard of before.

The responses generally seem ... well, disapproving probably covers it, although it doesn’t quite convey how pissed people get. How would you describe the general reaction in the draft room? Has anyone ever NOT said “fuck this” and bailed? Like, someone being all “okay, he just took Aaron Hernandez with the first overall pick of the draft, let’s see what quarterback he takes.”

Every so often you’ll get people who agree with me that this is extremely hilarious. For the most part it’s people calling me a cocksucker and threatening physical harm, but yeah occasionally some dude will be like “well played.” It’s a nice change of pace. Someone once told me I ruined his day, which like, come on. If the success of your day was dependent on participating in a realistic practice fantasy draft, I don’t think I’m the one that ruined it.

How much fun is this for you? Obviously you’re not doing it because you expect it to result in a book deal or whatever, but what do you get out of messing up strangers’ fantasy drafts?

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It’s really, really fun because it’s incredibly simple and I can knock off about 10 good ones in like 15 minutes. The challenge is in doing something different every time. It’s easy to just scroll down to the end of the Yahoo! player list and pick the guy at the bottom, but unless he has a funny name or is an alleged murderer, you probably won’t get the best reactions. It’s satisfying to plan out a bad pick -- like taking a guy with the same initials as Adrian Peterson and pretending you think they’re the same guy -- and even more satisfying when somebody responds with an all-caps “FUCK.”

Baseball is next, chronologically. How are you approaching this latest challenge? Is there any preparation or research involved, or are you just going to stay focused, play your game and go out there and take Luke Scott?

I don’t really know much about baseball, which plays to my advantage. I’ll ask Twitter for player suggestions, and they usually come up with some solid ones. My strategy is to focus on a) retired players, and b) insanely bad players that everybody knows are bad. Also, c) players with funny or cool names. Luckily the Yahoo! player list includes a lot of players that probably shouldn’t be on there, so I can keep taking Roy Halladay and Lance Berkman first overall. They’re both primed for a bounce-back year, IMO.

From ‘Superstar’ Cop to Drug Kingpin

https://www.theassemblync.com/politics/law-enforcement/huff-police-officer-drug-trafficking-north-carolina/

On a cold afternoon in late October 2023, Freddie Wayne Huff walked into the federal courthouse in Greensboro flanked by U.S. marshals. Huff wore an orange jumpsuit, his movements constricted by the chains around his wrists and ankles.  

After two years in federal detention, Huff, then 43, looked tired and numb. His sharp hazel eyes darted between his attorneys and the judge, barely acknowledging his son, ex-wife, and a few other relatives seated two rows behind him. 

That Huff was once one of the finest drug interdiction officers in the country, responsible for millions of dollars in drug and cash seizures, was not in dispute this afternoon. Everyone—his legal team, the judge, even the prosecutor—commended his 12-year career as a Lexington police officer and later as a North Carolina state trooper. 

“He was a superstar at the job,” U.S. prosecutor Randall Galyon said in court. “He was fantastic.”  

Yet they were bewildered by his transformation from drug interdiction officer to drug kingpin. Using his knowledge gained from a decade of busting drug runners, Huff exploited law enforcement procedures to save cartels millions of dollars and catapult himself to the top of North Carolina’s drug trade.  

For five years, from 2016 until his arrest in 2021, Huff ran a sprawling drug empire, stretching 1,400 miles from the Mexican border to North Carolina and fueled by a network of unlikely accomplices: a former cell tower technician, U.S. Army veterans, a former Marine Corps sergeant. 

From his stash house in Lexington, he became the main supplier for networks in Winston-Salem, Greensboro, Fayetteville, Charlotte, Atlanta, Orlando, Norfolk, Philadelphia, and Texas. 

That afternoon in court, Huff acknowledged his role as the mastermind of a multimillion-dollar drug empire. But even as he admitted his guilt, he downplayed the significance of his law enforcement past. 

“It’s an exaggeration as far as using my knowledge of law enforcement,” he told the court before sentencing, his voice flat and drained. “Maybe I had a little advantage, but it wasn’t to the extent that it’s being made out to be.” 

Prosecutors said it was precisely that knowledge that made Huff so effective at evading Border Patrol agents and drug-sniffing dogs at the U.S.-Mexico border in Laredo, Texas. And it was because of those skills that they said Huff and his accomplices were able to traffic 2,000 kilograms of cocaine and 25 kilograms of heroin to North Carolina and other parts of the country. 

Huff and his team concealed the drugs in passenger cars, tractor-trailers, and appliances like washers and dryers, then sold them to dealers.

Lexington Police Department in downtown Lexington, which Huff joined in 2003. (Carolyn de Berry for The Assembly)

North Carolina media outlets briefly reported Huff’s arrest and conviction, but The Assembly has uncovered revealing new details to provide the deepest account yet of Huff’s rise and fall. 

We obtained and analyzed thousands of pages of documents related to Huff’s work, including incident and arrest reports from his decade with the Lexington Police Department and various court records, some of which have not been previously reported. 

“Maybe I had a little advantage, but it wasn’t to the extent that it’s being made out to be.” 

Freddie Huff

That included interviewing nearly two dozen people, including Huff and another federal inmate by phone. This article also includes comments Huff made to Seth Harp, author of the new book, The Fort Bragg Cartel: Drug Trafficking and Murder in the Special Forces. I assisted Harp in researching the book, although I had first started reporting about Huff a year earlier.

Taken together, this reporting shows how Huff forged alliances with some of the most notorious cartels on the map, including Los Zetas, Jalisco, and Pacifico in Mexico, and a Puerto Rican gang operating out of Florida. 

“You gotta have multiple suppliers because if one gets taken off, you’re fucked,” Huff said in an interview from Fort Dix federal prison in New Jersey, where he has been since 2024–and will likely remain for many years. 

A Special Instinct

Growing up in Lexington, Huff dreamed of becoming a police officer, an aspiration nurtured by his father, also named Freddie Huff. The senior Huff was a board member of the local Crime Stoppers chapter for over 15 years. 

When young Freddie was 13, a family friend at the Lexington Police Department gave him a real badge. Photos show the young Huff in a navy blue button-down shirt, the shiny brass badge and nameplate gleaming against the fabric. Completing the look were matching pants tucked into black boots, a utility belt with a plastic 9mm, and a perfectly sized police cap.  

“He was well took care of, and just like his dad he got a heart of gold,” the elder Huff told The Assembly. “He was just a special child.”

Huff graduated from West Davidson High School near Lexington in 1998, where he played football and basketball and ran cross country while maintaining a strong academic record. “I was a straight-arrow,” Huff said.

A young Freddie Huff proudly wearing a police uniform. (Photo courtesy of the Huff family)

Two years later, he completed his basic law enforcement training program at Davidson-Davie Community College. After a brief stint working at an auto glass store, he joined the Lexington Police Department in 2003, when he was 23.

Huff had a special instinct for spotting drug runners. “Even in patrol, he was able to identify people who were involved in drugs,” former Lexington Police Chief John Lollis, who led the department from 2005 to 2012, said in an interview.

In 2009, amid growing concerns about drug trafficking in North Carolina, law enforcement agencies with jurisdiction along Interstate 85, including the Lexington Police Department, formed highway interdiction teams to patrol the stretch that runs through Davidson County, a major corridor for drug traffickers.

Huff, who is 6-foot-2 and more than 200 pounds, was drawn to the adrenaline-fueled pursuit of drug smugglers rather than the somber investigations of petty or even violent crimes. His passion for the cat-and-mouse game led him to seek out the interdiction team, where he was in his element. 

On I-85, within a 5-mile stretch of Mile Marker 87, Huff carved out his reputation not just in Lexington but across the country. Between 2006 and 2012, he seized a staggering $5 million in cash, according to an Assembly analysis of his incident and arrest reports. That’s a remarkable sum for a small police department, not to mention for one officer. 

If Huff suspected an interstate driver of drug trafficking, he’d find a reason to stop them. Following too closely, failure to maintain lanes of travel, impeding traffic, and improper display of license plates were among the pretexts he used to justify his stops, according to the incident and arrest reports.  

On I-85, within a 5-mile stretch of Mile Marker 87, Huff carved out his reputation. (Carolyn de Berry for The Assembly)

On a December day in 2006, parked near Mile Marker 87, Huff detected a small, easily overlooked detail: the absence of two rear mud flaps on a Freightliner tractor-trailer with Texas plates. The seemingly minor infraction gave Huff a reason to pull the truck over–a stop that uncovered a hidden compartment containing $507,128 in cash, according to an incident report reviewed by The Assembly. 

“He could spot things that I wasn’t able to spot,” Lollis said. “But when he showed them to me, they were plain as day.” 

Lollis said Huff was skilled at processing information. “He could cut through a conversation and see things the average officer needed years and years of experience to watch for,” Lollis said. 

“Even in patrol, he was able to identify people who were involved in drugs.”

John Lollis, former Lexington Police chief

Huff had a knack for catching even the smallest inconsistencies in a driver’s story, which he then leveraged to conduct remarkably effective searches. He knew every nook and cranny, every possible hiding place, from the dashboard crevices to the undercarriage and the gas tank. 

“I basically started learning what’s not supposed to be there,” Huff said. “I had to clear every void in that vehicle. If I can look inside every spot, there’s nothing there.”

On the interstate, Huff mostly targeted vehicles with out-of-state license plates. When he was a Lexington police officer, he seized cash from 85 vehicles; 59 were registered outside of North Carolina, according to an Assembly analysis of his incident and arrest reports. 

The interdiction team’s success, fueled largely by Huff’s efforts, paid for a $1.7 million training facility in 2010.  

Huff’s reputation spread within the law enforcement community. He was a federally certified instructor for the Drug Enforcement Administration and trained agents in New Orleans, New York, Los Angeles, and Virginia. 

Huff’s impact on the Lexington Police Department was so profound that his departure in 2013 after 10 years on the force led to a significant decline in drug forfeiture revenue. According to a local news report, between 2006 and 2013 the department seized more than $6 million in cash, with a peak of $1.1 million collected during the 2009-10 fiscal year. 

In the 2013-14 fiscal year, the first full period following his departure, Lexington’s drug forfeiture revenue plummeted to $60,057, according to the report. Since then, annual drug forfeiture revenues have consistently languished below $60,000, with some years yielding barely a few thousand dollars.  

Fall From Grace

On January 11, 2014, two State Highway Patrol troopers conducted a traffic stop on a white 1998 Ford Crown Victoria at a driver’s license checkpoint on the I-40 westbound ramp in Iredell County. 

Another photo of the young Huff proudly wearing police gear. (Photo courtesy of the Huff family)

In the back window, they spotted an official State Highway Patrol hat, the kind troopers wear while in uniform. When questioned, the driver revealed that he had purchased the hat from Trooper Huff online for $360.

Internal investigators also discovered that Huff had sold other items, including his state-issued patrol boots.  

After initially denying he’d sold any items, Huff told investigators that he sold the boots to buy a better pair. He’d lost money in the process. The state-issued boots sold for a mere $0.99 on eBay, less than he’d paid for shipping. 

While Huff avoided any criminal charges for selling pieces of his uniform, his initial denial cost him his job in March 2014. Having that on his record made it impossible to get another job in law enforcement. 

“I lost everything—lost my certifications, they blacklisted me, lost my expert witness status,” he said. “Lost everything that I had.”   

Huff’s law enforcement legacy was forged on interstate highways. Soon, those same routes would become the stage for his most daring adventures.  

Bad White Boy

After he was fired, Huff launched a used appliance business in Lexington that quickly expanded across North Carolina and other states. But even as the business flourished, Huff harbored a lingering resentment toward his former employer.  

“I had told myself if anything ever falls into my lap, I was going to use every fucking thing I had known, learned, and taught—against them,” he said. 

Huff marketed his appliances nationally, and customers came from across the country to buy from him. Among them were a couple who ran a used appliance store out of McAllen, Texas; Huff said he didn’t know their last names.

From the moment they walked into the warehouse, Huff said he felt that familiar prickle of suspicion. “I was like, ‘Ehh, this screams cartel,’” Huff recalled thinking.

“I lost everything—lost my certifications, they blacklisted me, lost my expert witness status. Lost everything that I had.”   

Freddie Huff

To test his suspicions, Huff included a few broken appliances in his shipments to McAllen to see if they’d report any issues. 

“They didn’t say a fucking word,” Huff said. “So I pretty much figured it out.”    

Over time, Huff cultivated a friendship with the woman, who visited frequently. Their conversations drifted from business to more personal matters. Huff knew someone in the illegal marijuana trade, and the idea of getting into the business had been simmering in the back of his mind. 

One afternoon in 2016, as the woman wandered his warehouse aisles, he casually mentioned his interest. 

“I asked her because I knew she was from McAllen,” Huff said. “And down there in the valley is where [most] of all cocaine comes into the United States. As a matter of fact, when I was working on the interstate, almost every passenger that I stopped from McAllen had drugs on them.”  

Huff said the woman connected him with Rudolpho Trevino, the owner of an appliance store that operated in a McAllen shopping mall. Trevino was associated with the violent Los Zetas cartel. 

Huff said the store was a conduit for a major drug trafficking operation. They refurbished used appliances, but those beyond repair were loaded with cocaine and sent to Huff and other distributors across the country.  

“We load them back with money and send them straight back there,” Huff said. 

Huff and a friend met with Trevino one afternoon in 2016 in a restaurant parking lot in Riverside, California. Huff said he and the friend wanted to get into the marijuna business, but Trevino had other ideas.  

Trevino emerged from a car, impeccably dressed in designer clothes, his nails perfectly manicured. “He screamed cartel,” Huff said. “He looked like the Mexican Kenny Rogers.” 

They talked inside the car. According to Huff,  Trevino said: “What about bricks [of cocaine]?” 

Huff said he was taken aback. But before he could respond, his friend said yes. “I looked at him like, ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’” Huff said. 

Still, he agreed to the deal.

Huff and Deriggs show off money, guns, and a fancy car. (Photos courtesy of Huff)

Huff said Trevino’s shipment arrived in Lexington a few weeks later: 25 kilos of cocaine, concealed inside washers and dryers. He said Trevino flew into the local airport in Davidson County on a private jet and met Huff at his home in Lexington.  

Over drinks, Trevino darted among topics, never lingering on any one subject for long. Huff said Trevino was sizing him up, evaluating the man who might become a key player in his operations.  

Huff had managed to move every ounce of the 25 kilos in just 24 hours. Trevino was impressed. “You’re the baddest white boy I’ve ever seen,” Huff said Trevino told him.  

In court documents, federal investigators said a Huff accomplice told them that Trevino supplied cocaine to Huff. Trevino has not been charged, and The Assembly was not able to reach him for comment. 

Huff said his agreement with Trevino helped transform him into one of the most prolific cocaine distributors in North Carolina. 

‘He Can’t Be a Cop’ 

After an arrest within his distribution network forced Trevino to lie low, Huff said he went months without supplies. But someone else came to his rescue: an Army veteran in Moore County named Timothy Dumas, then 42. 

Dumas was an imposing figure. He’d served 20 years, including four tours in Afghanistan, according to his certificate of release from active duty. He was built like a football player, 6 feet tall and 200 pounds. He wore a Thin Blue Line bracelet on his wrist and often carried a chrome-plated Smith & Wesson revolver or a desert tan Hellcat semiautomatic. 

Dumas’ partnership with Huff, which began in 2018, broadened their reach. Their network stretched from Florida to Virginia and included Fort Bragg. Dumas used his pickup truck, its bed filled with mismatched furniture, to conceal a compartment in the back used to hide drugs.

In summer 2019, Jaime Fontanez, a cell tower technician, was working in Minnesota when his uncle called to say Dumas wanted to meet him. Dumas, who was Black, and Huff met Fontanez at his home in Kissimmee, Florida, but Fontanez remained wary of Huff.

“He was white, and I was scared of him. I told Tim, ‘I’ll deal with you, but I don’t want to deal with Freddie,’” Fontanez, who is Puerto Rican, said from a federal prison in Florida. “To be honest, I’m not racist, but he looked like a cop from the start.” 

Jaime Fontanez said he was impressed by how quickly and easily Huff moved drugs. (Photo courtesy of Fontanez)

Despite his initial suspicions about Huff, Fontanez never considered looking into his background.

“He used to do so much cocaine,” Fontanez said. “He was dealing with all these people in North Carolina—all those Black guys. The Bloods, the Crips, everyone. They respected him. So I thought, ‘He can’t be a cop.’” 

Huff lived large. He rented a $1.3 million house in Charlotte as well as a  $414,000 house in Lexington, according to court records. He had a gray Lamborghini Huracan that was registered in his mother’s name and a white Cadillac Escalade registered to his wife.  

Fontanez was impressed by how quickly and easily Huff moved the drugs. “He used to take 20 kilos and move 20 kilos,” Fontanez said. “It was crazy; he used to magically move them.” 

With a steady flow of cocaine from Orlando, Huff and Dumas supplied dealers across the southeastern U.S. and as far north as Pennsylvania. Huff said shipments from Trevino resumed, and Huff also forged connections with the Jalisco cartel, one of the most powerful and dangerous drug cartels in Mexico. 

Huff had access to at least three reliable suppliers, and maintained a steady supply even as other traffickers struggled due to the pandemic. 

“You got a Black guy and a white guy selling to Mexicans,” Huff said, laughing.  

But not for long. On December 1, 2020, Dumas and a Special Forces soldier were shot and killed during a drug deal. Their bodies were found in a secluded training area at Fort Bragg.  

Federal prosecutors later charged Kenneth Maurice Quick Jr. of Laurinburg with their deaths. He is awaiting trial in federal court. 

A Decoy at the Checkpoint 

Around 10 one night in 2021, the scent of marijuana clung to Fontanez’s car, triggering a drug-sniffing dog at the Laredo Border Patrol checkpoint. 

Though Laredo sits on the U.S. side of the border, travelers heading north pass through a secondary checkpoint. It was the fourth time in as many months that Fontanez had been stopped, and the agents were growing suspicious, he said. 

Huff was two cars behind in a rental SUV, dressed in a crisp suit and tie. Rahain Deriggs, a former Marine Corps sergeant who had become Huff’s right-hand man, watched with Huff as Fontanez was pulled for inspection.  

For an hour, agents interrogated Fontanez while K-9s circled his car. They also ran the vehicle through an X-ray scanner. “I had nothing, so they had to release me,” Fontanez recalled.   

“He was dealing with all these people in North Carolina—all those Black guys. The Bloods, the Crips, everyone. They respected him. So I thought, ‘He can’t be a cop.’” 

Jaime Fontanez

By then, Huff and Deriggs, their SUV trunk loaded with 10 kilos of cocaine wrapped in shop towels soaked in ammonia to hide the smell, were already heading up I-35 to their San Antonio hotel.  

The plan, simple but audacious, had worked again. Fontanez, the decoy, had lit up a joint just before the checkpoint to draw the attention of the agents and their dogs. 

“[Huff] was always two cars behind me,” Fontanez said.  “Once he saw the dog smelling me, that’s when he used to go past. He was a white guy, you know. … He used to look like a lawyer, and he used to just pass the border.”   

But the hour-long search spooked them. “I was getting hot the fourth time,” Fontanez said. “It was like, damn, this is the fourth time that he does this; what’s going on?” 

Guns on display on a pool table. (Photo courtesy of Fontanez)

It wasn’t their first close call. At around 2 one morning, Huff said he was driving four kilos to Asheville in his Lamborghini when the tire pressure light flickered on. 

He pulled into a desolate gas station, its fluorescent lights casting long, eerie shadows. Two local cops, their faces creased with the weight of late-night shifts, were nursing coffees. Their eyes widened when they saw the Lamborghini, a rare spectacle in this corner of North Carolina.  

When the officers asked what he did for work, Huff was ready. He said he was a neurosurgeon rushing to do an emergency surgery in Asheville. After his car had been towed to a mechanic, the officers gave Huff a ride halfway. 

He said he sat in the passenger seat of the police car, with four kilos of cocaine tucked neatly in a Louis Vuitton bag at his feet. “I’m in a police car going 100 miles an hour to take me like 40 miles down the road,” Huff said. “I got off on it. I loved it.”  

A Desperate Gamble

At 6:50 a.m. on May 28, 2021, the Sosa family was jolted awake in their Winston-Salem home by the sound of their front door crashing through. 

Two figures in full black tactical gear—ballistic helmets, vests bearing U.S. Marshal patches—stormed in. AR-15s and SCAR rifles in hand, they moved with precision, their commands sharp and authoritative as they barked “Search warrant!” at the family, according to Huff and court documents reviewed by The Assembly.

Michael Sosa, the primary target, and another man were cuffed at gunpoint. The other five members of the family were ordered to stay put.  

Outside, a Dodge Charger idled in the driveway, its blue lights flashing erratically into the growing morning light. 

But the two men weren’t U.S. marshals. It was Huff and Deriggs.

Huff and Deriggs dressed as law enforcement officials. (Photo courtesy of Huff)

It wasn’t the first time they had impersonated federal law enforcement officials to reach their target. For Huff, who had spent five years navigating the dangers of drug trafficking without resorting to violence, this was the surest way to avoid it. 

“I knew that it would be the safest way for everybody if they thought it was the police,” Huff said. “They’d be passive, and we’d be passive. We do what we do and leave—nobody gets hurt.” 

The kidnappings were Huff’s last-ditch effort to salvage a crumbling empire and to protect his family. Dumas’ death had left a gaping hole in the organization, and an undercover sting in Laredo a month before, where sheriff’s deputies seized $210,000 intended for a cocaine buy, crippled his cash flow.  

A customer had told Huff that Sosa had cocaine in his possession that someone else had stolen from Huff.

“I was like, well, this my fucking saving grace right here. We’ll break even; everything will be fine,” Huff said. “We were going to get our shit; we weren’t going to do a fucking robbery.” 

Inside the Sosa home, everyone cooperated, believing they were dealing with law enforcement. The intruders collected $24,000, an assortment of jewelry, several firearms, and nearly a kilo of cocaine. 

“I knew that it would be the safest way for everybody if they thought it was the police. They’d be passive, and we’d be passive. We do what we do and leave—nobody gets hurt.” 

Freddie Huff

Huff said the cocaine’s packaging, a distinctive vacuum-sealed brick, indicated it was his.  

Just as they were preparing to slip out with their haul, a 57-year-old member of Sosa’s family clutched her chest. Forsyth County emergency communications received a call about a woman in distress at 7:35 a.m.; the caller identified himself as a neighbor who heard someone yelling for help.  

But the caller was Huff. “She was faking it,” he said, “but I wasn’t taking that chance.” EMS arrived at the scene at 7:54 a.m., just as Huff and Deriggs were stepping out the door, according to a dispatch log obtained by The Assembly. 

Huff waved them in, and the pair quickly left for the stash house.

But the absence of standard police protocol, coupled with the men’s hurried departure, triggered the suspicion of the EMS crew, who alerted Winston-Salem Police. 

On His Trail

Officers from the U.S. Department of Homeland Security and the Davidson County Sheriff’s Office had been surveilling the stash house. That afternoon, they followed Huff as he left in his white Cadillac and arrested him at a nearby convenience store. 

They had traced the EMS call and eventually placed Huff and Deriggs at the scene of the robbery.

The officers had been on his trail since Dumas was killed in December 2020 and the FBI received a tip that Huff was a major drug trafficker in the area.  

Huff’s mugshot.

By March 2021, multiple confidential informants had passed information to investigators about Huff and his operation. 

Late that month in Laredo, officers with the Webb County Sheriff’s Office pulled over an Uber driver carrying Deriggs and seized $210,000 in a green military-style duffel bag. He pleaded guilty to conspiracy to distribute cocaine, and was sentenced to 17 years in prison.

Fontanez was arrested the same day en route to the stash house with 500 grams of cocaine. He also pleaded guilty and was sentenced to four years in prison. 

In court documents, Huff said he’d had a good childhood with a close family that watched movies together and camped in the backyard. However, he said he’d been sexually abused by a neighbor as a young child, something he’d only recently revealed to a therapist. 

He also said he had a traumatic brain injury from a car accident in 2010 that caused him to have seizures, which was confirmed by medical records. When he was in jail in 2021, he attempted to hang himself with a bed sheet. 

But Huff accepted responsibility for his crimes and pleaded guilty. He admitted to distributing cocaine in North Carolina for several years and running drugs and money throughout the southeastern U.S. 

Huff wanted the judge “to know that he feels like he was a model citizen up until he began distributing controlled substances,” court records said. 

As he sat in court in October 2023 bracing for a potential life sentence,  prosecutors painted a picture of a man who leveraged his police training to shield drug cartels. The defense pointed to a decade of service and a man who “fell from grace … because of a dishonesty about some boots that were sold.”

U.S. District Court Chief Judge Catherine Eagles sentenced him to 21 years in prison. 

“I felt good. I know it sounds crazy, but I felt good,” Huff said of dodging the life sentence. “I actually felt like I won the fucking lottery that day.”

How to Have Hope Despite Political Chaos

https://davidlivermore.com/2025/03/14/how-to-have-hope-despite-political-chaos/

I recently took a week-long break from the news. I had to. I was mentally exhausted. It’s ironic given that I recently wrote, “You can’t lead with cultural intelligence without consuming the news on a regular basis…leaders need to stay current.”

But there are times when staying current becomes too much. The headlines scream division. Social media fuels outrage. Everything feels like a fight. And conversations that once felt safe—at work, with family, or among friends—now seem like landmines. It’s exhausting.

The time away from the news and social media gave me renewed hope. Free from alarming headlines, I spent more time having real-life conversations and reflected on what research and history have to say for such a time as this. Here’s what gives me hope:

1. Most People Are Good—And We Have Data to Prove It

Despite how it feels, most people are not as extreme or divided as we’re led to believe. And more importantly, research indicates that people are inherently wired for goodness, cooperation, and fairness.

A few weeks ago I saw a young parent in New York struggling to carry her stroller up the stairs. A stranger came up from behind, picked up the other end of the stroller and helped her carry it to the top. Not a single word was exchanged between them but it reminded me that we aren’t as hopelessly selfish and polarized as many narratives suggest. I experienced something similar after a recent cycling accident. People immediately stopped to help me—both when it happened and in the follow-up days while I limped through airports, restaurants, and other public spaces.

Research offers proof of this kind of goodness in most people:

Innately Cooperative: There’s a whole body of research that has challenged the notion that personal survival is what motivates us most. Humans have an innate tendency toward cooperation and kindness rather than pure self-interest. Renowned experiments like the Prisoner’s Dilemma show that cooperation often emerges as a successful strategy in many economic games, even when individuals could maximize their personal gains by acting selfishly. While self-interest can influence behavior, cooperation is a deeply ingrained response, particularly when mutual benefits are clear.

Neuroscience and Altruism: Better yet, our brains are wired toward kindness. Acts of kindness activate the brain’s reward centers, including the ventral striatum, which is associated with pleasure and motivation. Researchers from Emory University found that engaging in generosity produces neural responses similar to receiving a reward, a phenomenon known as the “helper’s high.” And a study from Cedars-Sinai confirmed that kindness stimulates dopamine release, reinforcing prosocial behavior as neurologically satisfying. Findings from myriad other studies also suggest that cooperation and altruism are not just socially encouraged but biologically ingrained.

Prosocial and Kind: Another study reviewed decades of data on empathy, kindness, and generosity, finding no significant decrease in these virtuous behaviors. The belief in moral deterioration is more a reflection of negative news cycles and social media algorithms than reality. Economic experiments like the Ultimatum Game demonstrate that individuals often choose fairness over self-interest, sharing resources equitably when they could maximize their own gain. Even toddlers exhibit helping behaviors without prompting, showing that the roots of kindness and fairness emerge early in human development.

I’m not suggesting that humans are always good nor am I saying we can sit back and wait for our inherent goodness to take care of things. Our societies are facing real conflicts and dysfunction. But as we address the chaos and dysfunction, we’re wise to remember that most people, most of the time, are inclined toward fairness, cooperation, and kindness.

2. A New Generation is Emerging—And They Lead Differently

Meanwhile, we hear alarming reports about the rising misogyny and nationalism of young adults—particularly young men. But these soundbites misrepresent the majority of Gen Z. Globally, younger generations are skeptical of extremes and they don’t need to be convinced about diversity and global interconnectedness. They’ve grown up with in a hyper-connected world. They have an idealistic sense of making the world a better place and they own a sense of pragmatic responsibility for making that a reality.

Global Citizenship: Surveys of Gen Z across multiple countries show that they are less likely to see issues in purely left vs. right terms and are more likely to embrace complexity. Most of Gen Z identifies as “global citizens” but they don’t see this as conflicting with national loyalty or a cultural identity. Their allegiance to geo-political identities is notably weaker and that’s a good thing.

Calling-In: Gen Z and younger Millennials led the shift away from “call-out culture” and toward “call-in culture”—where the goal is to engage in difficult issues, not condemn. Younger employees consistently show a  preference for constructive dialogues over public shaming, fostering more inclusive workplace environments.​

Diversity is Normal: Cross-cultural collaboration is the norm for younger professionals, not the exception. They’re used to working with global teams, navigating cultural differences, and adapting in real time. According to Deloitte’s Millennial Survey, young Millennials and Gen Z respondents reported frequent interactions with peers from different cultural backgrounds, enhancing their adaptability and appetite for cultural intelligence.​

Gen Z intuitively understands the importance of CQ. Whether I’m interacting with our students at Boston University or talking with young professionals around the world, they have an easy resonance with the relevance of cultural intelligence

3. These Things Are Cyclical—And History Shows We Adapt

Furthermore, history reminds us that we have experienced this kind of polarization before:

Civil Rights Wars: The 1960s and 70s were filled with violent protests, political assassinations, and cultural upheaval. Many believed the US would never recover. Yet those same decades laid the foundation for civil rights, women’s rights, and greater global integration. What felt like societal collapse was, in many ways, a necessary reckoning that led to long-term progress.

Post Cold-War: The post-Cold War era saw a surge in globalization and international cooperation, despite the deep ideological divides of the previous decades. Countries that had been bitter enemies worked together in unprecedented ways, forming trade agreements, cross-border alliances, and diplomatic partnerships. Though today’s geopolitical tensions feel daunting, history reminds us that even deep divisions can give way to surprising collaborations. I expect the emerging generation of leadership will be the ones who will make this a reality.

DEI: 20 years ago, very few companies had dedicated DEI staff, much less entire departments focused on diversity and inclusion. While many companies are rolling back their commitments, others remain committed to the work. Cultural intelligence continues to be in high demand by companies around the world, as organizations recognize that the need to have teams that can work together effectively is as relevant as ever.

This is not to say that time will magically make things better nor am I dismissing the cost many individuals are experiencing at the moment. But the arc of history shows us that societies have a way of correcting course. The challenge is navigating these cycles without succumbing to the fear that this time is different.

4. Some Corrections Were Needed—And We’re Figuring It Out

Finally, not all conflict is bad. Some of the social and political tensions we’re experiencing are the result of necessary course corrections. I don’t have confidence that most of our politicians, at least in the US, will use these conflicts to constructively build a better future. But individual citizens, communities, and organizations are stepping in where political leadership falls short.

Societal corrections often feel like a pendulum swing—over-correcting in the opposite direction before settling into balance. But with culturally intelligent thinking and leadership, we can use the tensions to forge a better way forward on issues like these:

Balancing National and Global Interests: The evolving global landscape has led to a reevaluation of national priorities. For instance, the US is reassessing its foreign policy in relation to domestic needs. While I’m vehemently opposed to a retreat from NATO and abandoning Ukraine, the broader debate on how to allocate resources between domestic and global needs is worth having.

Addressing Working-Class Concerns: In many leading democracies, working-class people have felt overlooked. An important emphasis on race, sexual orientation, and refugee issues has sometimes come at the expense of acknowledging the struggle of those trying to survive on minimum wages in the US, Canada, and other developed nations. We need leaders who address economic inequality for any population. We’re capable of addressing inequities for more than one demographic at a time.

Reevaluating Diversity Initiatives: The current backlash against DEI hits a raw nerve for many of us. The way it’s being dismantled in the US is harmful. But how might we use this moment to refine diversity initiatives that weren’t working? Shaming certain groups as a way to promote equity didn’t work. And more importantly, too many diversity initiatives inadvertently stifled constructive dialogue rather than promoting it. I’m already seeing signs of a hopeful shift, where participants opt-into diversity sessions and use CQ to constructively voice their perspectives rather than staying silent or echoing what they assume is expected.

I can’t help but see the connections between all of this and the spirit that drives the cultural intelligence movement—drawing hope from what happens when we collaborate effectively, learning from a new generation of leaders, and using CQ to adapt to the increasing complexities of a connected, yet polarized world. Cultural intelligence begins with a spirit of generosity—starting with positive intent, recognizing the good in people, and resisting the pull of fear and outrage.

So with that, I’m resolved to consume the news in bite-sized portions while focusing my energy on real-life conversations and working with others who want to create a better world for all of us.

Together, we can:

  • Step outside the outrage loop and look for the goodness of people all around us.
  • Exercise our cultural intelligence by actively engaging with people who have different perspectives. 
  • Remember that change takes time.
  • Use our voices to call for solutions—rather than just echoing the outrage.

And together…we can strive to create a more culturally intelligent world for all.

David Livermore

The Paranoid Fantasies Of ‘October 8’

https://defector.com/the-paranoid-fantasies-of-october-8

What you need to understand about the Zionist propaganda project October 8 (originally titled October H8te) is that calling it a film at all is generous. The documentary, directed by Wendy Sachs, is made in the Streaming Network House Style—drone shots, center-frame interview subjects, a manipulative soundtrack so on the nose that it becomes downright obsequious—and so it has a certain affinity with the dime-a-dozen true-crime cash grabs churned out by Netflix and Hulu. But those productions, shoddy as they may be, generally understand concepts like "pacing" and "narrative structure."

Here, not so much. Certain political threads are picked up only to be quickly abandoned or pursued half-heartedly. As much of the movie is taken up by Zionists complaining that they're being given the cold shoulder by the progressive-liberal coalition in which they previously felt at home—Jews marched with blacks in the civil rights movement, one talking head whines, so why aren't blacks marching for Israel?—as it is with Zionists (sometimes the same ones) speedrunning a Republican media checklist: "DEI is antisemitism," "Communist Chinese TikTok is corrupting the youth," "Hamas is bent on the destruction of western civilization," etc. A brief passage in the middle of the film promotes the idea that campus groups like Students for Justice in Palestine are either providing material support for terrorism or are "terrorists" themselves. They are never clear on which argument they're pushing, but as soon as the sequence is over, the filmmakers move on, never to return.

There is also a conspicuous absence at the core of the film: Gaza. The film opens with some footage taken by Hamas and associated militants on Oct. 7, a short interview with an Israeli woman in front of her destroyed home in one of the kibbutzim attacked that day, and a slightly drawn-out shot of an Israel-Pride flag, as in a mashup of the Israeli flag and the Pride flag, fluttering among the rubble. (Israel never misses a chance to do some pink-washing, even as its supporters scream lurid rape and murder fantasies at every LGBTQ supporter of Palestine within earshot.) Aside from these opening scenes and a single short scene near the very end, it is as if Gaza does not exist at all. Even Israel itself barely exists in this film: No Israeli officials are ever named, and the state and its history are hardly mentioned, if at all. 

Both are mere background for the real subject of the film, which is the wounded, paranoid feelings of American Zionists. And for this, we must leave Israel and head to the heart of the action: the phone. 

October 8 is not so much a film as it is a way to experience being trapped in a room with someone as they show you posts on their phone. I do not mean this figuratively: A significant portion of October 8’s 100-minute runtime is composed of people watching videos on their phones, images of tweets or Instagram posts, shots of videos playing on Twitter or TikTok, or people you vaguely recognize from Twitter talking about things they've seen on their phones. At one point, I went on Twitter out of boredom, only to realize that I was essentially now viewing the film in double.

We watch as various American Zionist influencers watch Al-Aqsa Flood unfolding on the morning of Oct. 7, and then we watch their Instagram live recordings of them watching. We watch Shai Davidai watch a video of himself crying and screaming (his only two modes, aside from whining) at a sparsely attended rally at Columbia in real time, after which he turns to the camera, exhales, and says, "That’s the rawest I've ever been." Interviews are interspersed with archived protest footage from Instagram live streams. Most of the interview subjects, like congenital liar Eyal Yakoby or Hen Mazzig, the softboi of the online hasbara circle, earned their spots in the film exclusively through posting a lot.

The phone screen and the social media feed together have a symptomatic primacy here: Together they are the perfect medium through which to both channel and deepen the violent paranoia at the core of the Zionist psyche. Early in the film, an otherwise forgettable talking head says that part of what made Oct. 7 so horrific is that the "terrorist" attack occurred also "on our most intimate platforms"—by which she meant, of course, the phone. Paranoia is an interpretation mania, a filter: Everything external and differentiated is brought under the single heading of threat. The screen and the feed work to generalize that delusion. The Zionists in the film felt personally victimized by Oct. 7, despite living in the United States, because the attack was filmed, was available for viewing—the phrase bears repeating—on "our most intimate platforms." The screen collapses time—the feed as an undifferentiated continuity of events—but more importantly here, collapses distance as well. Guy Debord's first thesis in The Society of the Spectacle is as instructive as ever: "Everything that was directly lived has receded into a representation." The problem deepens to the extent that the screen becomes a constant companion, a means of documenting and consuming, often simultaneously. To live under such conditions means that we are increasingly experiencing things as first or simultaneously mediated by their own appearances, even when the experience is "lived." The screen becomes the subjective site of perception, bringing everything within the same proximity, regardless of its actual objective distance. An event which occurred there and can be felt to happen over and over again here and now. We see the thing and its image together, and representation takes on an equivalence to presentation.

This is also the formal equivalent of paranoia. For the paranoiac, things take on a dual reality: the stimulus itself and its place within the web of delusion. Distant violence is perceived as a threat to oneself. This paranoia holds together the film's otherwise divergent and scatterbrained threads. At one point, footage of various high-profile attacks against civilians in the U.S. and Europe (like the Boston marathon bombing and the Bataclan shooting) accompanies a voiceover stating, "If Israel does not defeat Hamas in Gaza, Hamas will prove that it is possible to bring a democracy to its knees." Earlier, a shot of a bombed-out kibbutz cuts to archival footage of Eisenhower touring a liberated concentration camp, then back to the kibbutz. Generational trauma is mentioned. A woman cries: "Jewish people felt it as a genocide attack intended for them." Multiple figures repeat the now-familiar phrase, "This was the deadliest day for Jews since the Holocaust." The specter of the Shoah haunts every action, no matter how innocuous or unrelated. Jewish students claim to feel unsafe because student protestors chant "All Zionists are racist." Images of genuinely antisemitic messages from a Telegram chat with a few hundred members called "Professional Cyberbullying Russians" or from random Telegram users like "uksteve" are interspersed with TikTok videos of protestors chanting "From the river to the sea." A video posted on Twitter as an example of violence against Jewish students instead unequivocally shows a person attacking a pro-Palestine protestor and trying to rip the flag from their hands. For the paranoiac everything on the above list is the same, all of it a threat: It all fits within the web, all part of the timeline scroll. 

Repetitions emerge in the form of familiar speech patterns, phrases, fears, and projections. There is a memetic quality to the Zionists on screen. I mean this in a dual sense: On the one hand, as the philosopher Theodor Adorno writes, "the fantasy of persecution is contagious: Wherever it occurs spectators are driven irresistibly to imitate it." The absence of any actual threat deepens the paranoia further, as ever more byzantine webs are required to sustain the delusion. The Zionists find comfort in their shared sense of persecution, in their flight from the idea that things may not be so bad as they seem. Against reality's lack of resistance, friction must be invented.

On the other hand, I mean memetic in the internet sense—literally, these people speak in memes. If they seem to ape one another, it is because they draw from the same impoverished source material: i.e., their phones. A small sampling of stock phrases which made the leap from the Zionists' phones to their mouths and vice versa: "No one asks if China has a right to exist," "the deadliest day for Jews since the Holocaust," "I wasn't seeing an ideological disagreement between two sides, I was seeing hatred," protestors see the world only as a split between "the oppressors and the oppressed," and on and on. At one point Deborah Lipstadt, who served as Joe Biden's Special Envoy for Monitoring and Combating Antisemitism and who also wrote a book about Eichmann, outrageously claims to have invented "horseshoe theory."

For a film that is ostensibly concerned with the "war over narrative and sometimes truth," as IDF Major Liad Diamond puts it early on, almost no effort is made in the way of rational argumentation or "corrective" education. It is tempting to attribute this to the indefensibility of the Zionist position and the clear absurdity of their legal and historical claims. This one of the main causes, to be sure, but the incoherence of hasbara is also its strength. Adorno again: "The very 'phoniness' [of belief in fascist propaganda] may have been relished cynically and sadistically as an index for the fact that power alone decided one's fate in the Third Reich, that is, power unhampered by rational objectivity." Indeed, it has become exactly such an index: Zionists slander the Palestine solidarity movement, and Mahmoud Khalil and Rümeysa Öztürk and numerous others are kidnapped by ICE and whisked away to detention facilities in Louisiana. The very things the Zionists claim to fear—being targeted because of their identity or political positions, for their speech, for their activism—are actually happening to Palestinians and others within the Palestine solidarity movement. In late March 2025, The National Jewish Advocacy Center (NJAC), along with several law firms, filed a lawsuit against various Palestinian advocacy organizations—including Columbia Students for Justice in Palestine and Within Our Lifetime. The lawsuit alleges, among other things, that the defendants "so pervasively and systemically assisted Hamas as to render them liable for every Hamas terror attack and action." The claim is plainly absurd, but it requires the defendants to mount a defense, and also can be seen as a dry run for potential criminal prosecutions, testing the water for the idea that pro-Palestine speech is in fact material support for terrorism. The claim's absurdity, however, also serves a function. Zionists must constantly up the ante in order to sustain the delusion, and the more outrageous the claim, the louder the call for some kind of retaliatory action. The U.S. and Israeli governments heed the call and give these delusions a violent reality, further entrenching the worldview. "The sadism latent in everyone unerringly divines the weakness latent in everyone," Adorno writes. "It is the rhythm of total destruction."

As I've written elsewhere, "The repeated and almost exclusive use of slogans and cliches serves to fashion out of the Zionist polity and its supporters a stereopathic type: Rational argumentation requires the engagement of an individual subjectivity, reciting slogans only memorization …Through repetition, people congeal into a mass and adopt an obedient group psychology." The obsession with the phone throughout the film signals the medium by which the stereopathy is achieved. The mass dissemination of images and phrases on the timeline draws paranoid subjects together in a shared web, the smoothness of the algorithm offering as little resistance as reality itself. Paranoia, like Twitter, can be a lexical madness. 

I do not mean that Zionists exist in an echo chamber, where only the same ideas can be heard and counterarguments are excluded. I mean there are no ideas at all, only facsimiles of ideas in the form of slogans, videos, and memes. The short format imposed by social media platforms all but ensures that language will take the form of a slogan and the video will take the form of a clip: repeatable, digestible, memorizable. Everyone online already writes like they're their own PR agent anyway. The mannered house style gleaned from social media's predecessor, the press conference, primes the listener to be receptive to sloganeering and cliches as much as it primes the speaker to deliver them. 

People remember Hannah Arendt’s Eichmann in Jerusalem for the oft-abused phrase "the banality of evil," but it is her linguistic insights that are of use with respect to Zionists. We are, after all, largely not talking about bland careerists here—Ritchie Torres excluded—but rather paranoiacs driven toward violence by the phantoms in their heads and the psychical and material benefits of colonial domination. The aspect of Adolf Eichmann that Arendt found most troubling, and also most comical, was his inability to utter "a single sentence that was not a cliché." Whenever questioned, he "repeated word for word the same stock phrases." What Eichmann's reliance on cliché evinced was a complete inability to think. To speak only in stock phrases is to abdicate one's capacity for thought to an external force—to quite literally draw one's words, and the ideas they communicate (or lack thereof), from a pre-given well. The mind ossifies, and the phrases become rote and devoid of rational content, and thus all the more capable of animating libidinal energy free from moderation.

Toward the end of the film, Sheryl Sandberg—former Meta COO, coauthor of Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead, and the primary mover behind another Zionist propaganda film, Screams Before Silence—tells a story. She is talking to her friend about Oct. 7 and the protests she's seen on the news (her phone) and, overcome with fear, asks: "Will you hide me? Like if it comes to that, will you hide me and my family?" Another cliché, another stock phrase. Sandberg continues, "Do I really think that's gonna happen in America? No. And it was interesting because [my friend] didn't really know what I was talking about."

Arendt writes that Eichmann's inability to think was, "namely, an inability to think from the standpoint of somebody else." The Zionists' memetic manner of speech demonstrates a similar incapacity. Paranoia clouds out the Other entirely, replacing their opacity with the false transparency of pure projection. They take the content of others' minds to be the same as their own. Sandberg's friend had no idea what she was talking about because the question was, when measured against reality, insane. Arendt continues, referring still to the use of clichés and stock phrases, "no communication was possible with [Eichmann], not because he lied but because he was surrounded by the most reliable of all safeguards against the words and the presence of others, and hence against reality as such." Eichmann was ultimately hung for his crimes; he could only safeguard himself from reality for so long. Then as now, reality has a way of pushing back.

Goldwag's Journal on Civilization

https://nathangoldwag.wordpress.com/2023/11/01/did-tintin-prevent-world-war-ii/

The first volume of The Adventures of Tintin–the controversial, maligned, and obscure Tintin in the Land of the Soviets–was published in 1929. The final book, Tintin and the Picaros, was published in 1976. Between those two bookends, our intrepid young Belgian reporter and his friends travel the length and breadth of the world, and become involved in every conceivable form of international intrigue. And yet, despite the fact that the series takes place in a version of 20th century Europe that is mostly identical to ours, at no point do our heroes ever experience the events of the Second World War. Given Hergé’s meticulous attention to detail and fascination with satirizing and commenting on contemporary politics, what can explain this? Is it a simple oversight–or is there a deeper story to be found here?

In fact, I would argue that by examining in detail the events The Adventures of Tintin, we can discern the outline of a startlingly different history, one that diverges from our own in several key points.

It is tempting to posit that no war occurred in the Tintinverse, but this is canonically disproved. In the 1954-1956 book The Calculus Affair, Tintin comes across a copy of General Leslie E. Simon’s German Research in World War II: An Analysis of the Conduct of Research. This demonstrates that some sort of conflict with Germany took place during the early-to-mid 20th century, but does nothing to explain how or why mention of the war had been avoided up until then. To explain that, I believe we must go further back, to the 1934-1935 book The Blue Lotus. This is one of Hergé’s most politically-aware books, engaging as it does with the Japanese invasion of Manchuria that had occurred only a few years earlier. In fact, Tintin himself stumbles upon a thinly-fictionalized version of the Mukden Incident false flag attack on the South Manchuria Railway. But that’s where things get interesting.

In our timeline, the Imperial Japanese Kwantung Army invaded and occupied Manchuria in 1931, creating the puppet state of Manchukuo. A League of Nations investigation, known as the Lytton Report, condemned the invasion, leading to the Japanese withdrawal from the League. In 1937, further clashes between the Japanese and Chinese at Marco Polo Bridge would spark the Second Sino-Japanese War, and the beginning of the series of global conflicts that would eventually coalesce into WWII. But that doesn’t happen here.

In The Blue Lotus, Tintin’s investigations uncover and document evidence of the Japanese conspiracy, as well as breaking up a major global opium smuggling ring. The Lytton Report is produced on schedule, and again, Japan withdraws from the League of Nations in protest. But! Faced with incontrovertible proof of their false flag operation, the Japanese also withdraw their troops from China. And right there, we can see an entirely new timeline begin to unfold.

Without the prestige of their Manchurian victory, the Japanese ultranationalist movement would likely have been discredited, allowing more moderate political forces in Japan (such as those who wished to uphold the Washington Naval Treaty) to hold their ground. The blow dealt to the international opium trade would also have dealt a serious blow to the Kwantung Army’s freedom of action, as it was heavily self-financed via illegal drug smuggling. With Japanese expansionism neutered–or at least constrained–the Western Powers would have had been both the strategic space and renewed sense of self-confidence to vigorously uphold the status quo in Europe as well.

Given all this, I submit that the most likely course of action was that a limited war of containment broke out in Europe during the 1930s in response to NSDAP revisionism, probably in response to the 1938 Suden Crisis, in which Germany threatened invasion of Czechoslovakia over the ethnically-German Sudetenland. Historically, this resulted in the Munich Agreement, in which France and Britain allowed the annexation to go forward in return for pledges of future peace from Hitler–the infamous “peace in our time”, that lasted less than a year. In the Tintinverse, however, a revitalized Anglo-French Alliance most likely declared war on Germany, rapidly defeating the unready Wehrmacht, and democratizing and demilitarizing the Reich in a war that would have been been over by 1941 at the very latest.

Why does this not appear in the pages of The Adventures of Tintin? Well, between 1938-1939, Tintin was down in the Balkans, engaged in the adventure of King Ottokar’s Sceptre. From 1940-1941 he was investigating the case of The Crab with the Golden Claws, which began in Europe but swiftly took him down into the Sahara and North Africa. And from 1941-1942, he was traveling the Arctic Ocean, searching for The Shooting Star. He simply seems to have missed most of the fighting. And besides, it seems unlikely that Belgium would have become embroiled in this version of the war.

What we soon find is that applying this theory also explains a number of other confounding aspects of the Tintinverse. Why are the Balkan states of Syldavia and Borduria still conducting independent foreign polices well into the 1950s-1960s? Because there’s no Cold War, and no Eastern Bloc, without a broader war to give the Soviets hegemony over Eastern Europe. This also explains why tiny, isolated Syldavia is the first country to land a man on the moon in 1953 (Explorers on the Moon). With no Space Race, scientific progress is more diffused. Syldavia’s surprisingly-advanced nuclear program also makes more sense if we realize that there was no mass exodus of German and Central European scientists to the United States and USSR, no mass flight of Jewish intellectuals and researchers from the Nazis, no Operation Paperclip and Operation Osoaviakhim, and no Manhattan Project. The “atomic breakthrough” most likely occurs in Europe, in the form of civilian nuclear powerplants.

We now can also understand why both the USA and USSR are so absent from The Adventures of Tintin; both powers are likely still quite isolationist, without the shock and trauma of the global cataclysm of 1937-1945 to push them into international entanglement. The USSR is, as far as I can tell, never mentioned again following the 1929-1930 Tintin in the Land of the Soviets. The United States is the setting of the 1931-1932 Tintin in America, but the US does not make another appearance until our heroes are rescued by the light cruiser USS Los Angeles in the 1956-1958 The Red Sea Sharks. It makes sense that the post-WWI isolationist policies of Washington D.C. are finally starting to fray by the late 1950s. We can imagine, perhaps, an American agreement of military support-for-oil with Saudi Arabia or Iran in order to counteract British or Soviet influence in the Middle East. We can even connect this to the Middle Eastern Crisis over oil supply that threatened a renewed outbreak of war in the 1948-1950 Land of Black Gold, though of course, that’s getting very speculative.

Further indication of the limits of American power can be seen in the 1975-1976 Tintin and the Picaros, when Tintin & Co. travel to the Central American nation of San Theodoros to help their old friend General Alcazar in his perennial power struggle against his rival, General Tapioca. As one might expect, the civil war is merely a proxy war, with the Bordurian Kûrvi-Tasch regime backing Tapioca’s government, and Alcazar’s rebels supported by the International Banana Company. The analogy to Latin American power politics is clear–perhaps most blatantly to the 1954 Guatemalan coup, in which the US overthrew the country’s first democratically-elected president at the behest of the United Fruit Company. But the differences are just as striking. Historically, the toppling of Jacobo Árbenz’s government was done by the CIA, and in reaction to the specter of Soviet influence in the region. But here, Tapicoca is dependent on support from a tinpot Balkan dictatorship, and the International Banana Company can only enlist a few dozen drunken guerillas and the support of a Belgian journalist and English sea-captain to do their bidding. It’s clear that while American economic power is still predominant in Latin America, the vast intelligence and security apparatus that grew out of the Cold War does not exist yet.

This thesis also explains why so many of The Adventures of Tintin seem to take place in a vaguely generic Western Europe; an Anglo-French dominated European Union was almost certainly established in the 1940s or 1950s to try and cement the hegemony of the Western Powers against the sleeping giants of the USSR and USA, and the stirring masses of the Colonial World. In the 1966-1967 Flight 714, the villainous Rastapopoulos recruits “Sondonesian nationalists”, promising them aid in their war for independence. In the book, the characters speak Malay, and if they are native to the Indonesian Archipelago–as seems likely–then Dutch colonial rule likely continues into the 1960s, a sure sign that the antebellum global order remains at least partially intact. This far more powerful and internationally influential British Commonwealth that we are positing would also explain why Detectives Thomson and Thompson of Scotland Yard would seem to have so much influence and authority.

On a more personal note: We first meet Captain Haddock in the 1940-1941 adventure, The Crab with the Golden Claws, where he appears as a drunken, dissolute, and depressed merchant captain. We know from The Black Gold that he has a reserve naval commission, could his sorry state be the result of several years spent on the blockade circuit or enduring attacks by u-boats? Perhaps, like General Ulysses S. Grant, his alcoholism was controllable during times of excitement and fervor, but consumed him when he had nothing else to distract him. Certainly, he seemed to find globe-trotting adventures with Tintin more to his liking!

In short, I believe that the “Suden Thesis” explains most of the peculiarities and discrepancies of the Tintinverse quite well, and paints a fascinating picture of a world not quite like our own.

Of course, there is an alternative argument. When Belgium surrendered to Nazi Germany in 1940, Hergé continued his work as a cartoonist under Nazi supervision. In fact, he moved his comic to Le Soir, the largest francophone newspaper in Belgium, and carefully edited his stories to fit the prevailing sentiments, eschewing the sharp political commentary of his earlier stories. In The Shooting Star, the original villain was an American Jewish financier, and (later removed) scenes included gratuitous antisemitism. After the war, he was arrested as a collaborator, and had trouble finding work for several years, before being rehabilitated. In truth, this seems to have been expediency, rather than ideology. Hergé had campaigned against the Nazis in the 1930s, and always had a habit of shaping his stories depending on what was popular. But one could argue that he was in no hurry to revisit the war years, or dwell overmuch on what his heroic protagonists had been up to during his less-than-heroic interlude.

Which of these interpretations is more likely? I’ll let the reader be the judge of that.