I’m deeply grateful to Mauro DiPreta, who believed in this from the get-go and took it 93% of the way, through no fault of his own. Non posso aspettare i tesori tu trovare prossimo, amico.
Thanks, also, to my terrific researcher and tiny-shoulder-to-lean-on, Marianne (Moose) Moore, who was always there for me, no matter what giant cyclops she was having to slay at the same time. You are the strongest little person I’ve ever met.
A large debt of gratitude goes to some terrific friends and reporters in the golf-writing dodge, most especially John Huggan, Jeff Babineau, Michael Bamberger, Jaime Diaz, Alan Shipnuck, Stephanie Wei, Geoff Shackleford, Eamon Lynch, et al. If you’d ever stop working and come to the bar, I owe you each a cold beer.
Thanks to Gwenda Blair, Trump’s biographer, who kept taking my endless calls with kindness. If you were grinding your teeth, I never heard it.
Thanks very much to my fabulous pit-bull agent and life-long friend, Janet Pawson. (Good luck to us!) And thanks to the whole squadron of terrific and smart people who pushed this thing over the finish line: Sarah Falter, David Lamb (sorry about my damn laptop), Michael Barrs, and Odette Fleming.
Mostly, though, thanks and all my love to TLC, The Lovely Cynthia, who put up with a book that consumed me like a raging wildfire. She kept bringing me coffee and killer homemade pizza to fuel that fire. You are the double eagle of wives.
Lastly, thank you to every reporter out there who keeps pursuing the truth head-first into the worst hurricane of lies, insults, and constitution-trampling I’ve seen in my 40 years in this business. You inspire me.
In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.
—UNKNOWN