This reminder from Kevin Cullen of what journalistic competition was like. Back in the dying days of the pre-mobile, pre-online era.

We found ourselves in a seedy bar in Podgorica, the gray capital of Montenegro, asking for a gangster named Momo. We paid Momo 700 deutsche marks for phony visas to get back into Serbia.

Momo took our money, but sat in the bar for hours, handing over the visas only after the last plane for Belgrade took off. Personally, I don’t go around telling gangsters how to conduct their business. But Lynch is less retiring and lit into Momo, accusing him of purposely making us miss the plane.

“I am sorry, my friend,” Momo replied genially, putting his hand on Lynch’s shoulder, and in doing so revealed what looked very much like a 9mm Beretta in a shoulder holster. “But a man from the BBC paid me 10,000 deutsche marks to keep you off that plane.”

The man from the BBC thought we worked for a rival network.