"We’re going to Rome!" Marek shouted, pointing a pen at a producer behind a glass pane.
"It’s madness," Marek whispered during a three-second commercial break, wiping sweat from his forehead.
At the center of the storm sat Marek, the lead anchor, whose job was part journalist, part air-traffic controller.
"It's the Multi-Liga," the producer replied, grinning. "See you in fifteen minutes for the late kick-offs."
On the main screen, a striker in Italy was mid-celebration, but before the ball even hit the back of the net, a frantic voice crackled in Marek’s earpiece: "Goal in Bodø! Penalty in London! Switch now!"
"And we leave the Olimpico for the Arctic Circle!" Marek pivoted without blinking. The screen split. On the left, a Norwegian underdog was sliding through the snow; on the right, a Premier League giant was staring down a goalkeeper in the pouring rain.
The air in the television studio was thick with the scent of overpriced coffee and the electric hum of forty stacked monitors. It was —the beautiful, chaotic symphony of the Europa and Conference Leagues.
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