🚨 Exclusive: The White House made a direct call to FIFA to ask Gianni Infantino to review Folarin Balogun’s red card.
FIFA approached for comment and referred to the findings of its independent committee.
FIFA sources insist White House influence could not affect the decision due to the powers contained in Article 27 and the independent nature of the disciplinary panel.
Just watched The Sopranos S3E4, “Employee of the Month,” and I genuinely need to sit in silence for a minute because what the hell was that.
That might be one of the most insane episodes of television ever made, not because it’s loud or flashy or trying to shock you for no reason, but because it puts you in the worst possible emotional position as a viewer.
The entire time, you know exactly what Tony Soprano is capable of. You know what would happen if Melfi told him. You know he would not call a lawyer, file paperwork, or wait for the system to correct itself. He would handle it in the most Tony Soprano way imaginable, and the terrifying part is that the episode makes you want him to.
That’s what makes it so disturbing.
The show spends years telling you Tony is a monster, then creates one situation where you catch yourself begging for the monster to be unleashed.
And then Melfi says no.
That final “no” might be one of the strongest moments in the entire series. Not dramatic. Not cinematic revenge. Not some Hollywood justice scene where everyone claps. Just a woman sitting across from the one person who could destroy the man who hurt her, choosing not to hand her pain over to a gangster.
It’s brutal because it denies the audience the exact thing we think we want.
Most shows would’ve turned that episode into revenge porn. The Sopranos does something way more uncomfortable. It forces you to sit with the fact that justice doesn’t always happen, rage doesn’t always get release, and morality is only real when it costs you something.
Dr. Melfi could have crossed that line and nobody watching would’ve blamed her.
But she doesn’t.
That’s why this episode is so fucked up and so brilliant. It makes Tony’s violence feel tempting, then reminds you why giving in to that temptation would mean losing something even bigger.
This show was operating on a level most television still hasn’t caught up to.
True Detective (2014) reached a level with Season 1 that almost no show could sustain. Rust Cohle, Marty Hart, Nic Pizzolatto’s writing, and Cary Fukunaga’s direction came together for one of television’s all-time great seasons.