It is not unusual to walk through the MPC and see journalists sleeping over their laptops at all hours. I’m sitting next to one right now. You rarely have a clue what time of day it is, with people routinely departing for the village at the same time others are arriving to work. It’s pretty much a 17-day run of insomnia, which for this large a group of sportswriters means bad things for one’s health but good things for the third-floor bar at the MPC.

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