Dana White declines Trump's press secretary offer, then boards flight to Washington to discuss it.

…(cont) Here's where I stopped being able to sleep. Last night — Saturday, by the clock on my stove — a reporter in London asks a man running a boxing event about a job the president put out on social media: would he take it, this press secretary job. The man answers the question, standing right there at ringside. One outlet wrote that he declined. I read that sentence twice. Same man, same night, telling the reporter he's flying to Washington, D.C. — his words, I wrote them down — "right now." And a separate outlet has him agreeing to sit down with the president Monday to talk the whole thing over.

I think about my own glovebox. There's a registration in there that expired two Augusts ago, and I know it expired, and I still haven't thrown it out. Does a man keep a paper he's truly through with, or does he keep it because some part of the question is still open? I'm not saying that's what happened in London Saturday night. I'm asking you to lay the receipts next to each other the way I had to: declines the job, agrees to meet about the job, boards a plane toward the job — all from the same man, inside the same day.

Before I let you go — and I almost didn't bring this up, because I know I've leaned on this page enough already — the chair at that podium has had four different people in it since 2017. I looked that up because I didn't trust my own memory, and my memory's gotten worse, not better, lately. I'm not asking you to count them with me, I already did that part, twice. I'm asking you to take the four things sitting in front of me this morning — the offer, the man's own answer to a reporter, the Monday meeting, the flight — and tell me which one of them took longer than forty-eight hours to happen.