PORTRUSH, Northern Ireland -- R&A chief executive Martin Slumbers defended the sizable gap between purses for the Open Championship and the Women's British Open, even as reporters peppered him with questions about the disparity during a news conference on Wednesday.

The purse for the 148th Open Championship at Royal Portrush Golf Club this week is $10.75 million, with the Champion Golfer of the Year collecting $1.935 million.

The purse for the 43rd Women's British Open, scheduled for Aug. 1-4 at Woburn Golf Club in Milton Keynes, England, is $4.5 million, with the winner taking home $675,000.

That's an increase of about $1.25 million, or 40 percent, from the 2018 women's tournament, when England's Georgia Hall collected $490,000 for winning.

Slumbers said the R&A is committed to building a "sustainable" women's game when it takes complete control of the Women's British Open next year. It made a sizable financial contribution to increase the women's purse this year.

"We're as ambitious for the Women's British Open as we are for The Open," Slumbers said. "But as I have said previously, we want to grow the women's game. We're passionate about growing the women's game, but we need to build a sustainable women's game, and that means building a bigger amateur game right from the very beginning up to the top.

"To build the economics of the Women's British Open, to be able to keep raising the prize money we need to do it as a sustainable business model. It needs to be a long-term business model, and that is what we are spending a long time doing. How do we build a better model to have a more financially successful Women's British Open that will flow then down into the prize money? Where it ends up, I don't know. But my ambition is to keep growing the overall performance of it and keeps enhancing the status of the event."

Slumbers said The R&A hasn't yet decided whether it will change the name of Women's British Open to the Women's Open or something similar, as it did with the men's event.

The R&A is also still determining the future rota for the women's tournament. The men's Open Championship is played exclusively on links courses, from a pool of 10 clubs, after returning to Royal Portrush for the first time since 1951.

"As we're looking at the Women's British Open, how we attract more people to watch the championship, to watch it live or watch it on TV, it may be that only being on links courses might not be the right answer. I wouldn't be surprised to see with the Women's British Open a mix of some of the great inland courses and the great links courses, but all aimed at trying to make the championship more engaged with by the public." The R&A also announced that 237,500 tickets have sold for practice and competitive rounds at this week's tournament, making it the second-largest crowd in Open Championship history. In 2000, the R&A said 239,000 patrons attended the Open at St. Andrews in Scotland.

The R&A has already committed to bringing back The Open to Portrush twice more in the next 20 years, after it waited 68 years to host the event for a second time. It's the only course outside of England and Scotland to host the tournament.

The other courses in The Open rota are St. Andrews, Carnoustie, Muirfield, Royal Birkdale, Royal Liverpool, Royal Lytham and St. Anne's, Royal St. George's, Royal Troon and Turnberry.

"There's been a lot of talk about (taking The Open outside England) and I think that's because of the success of bringing it to Royal Portrush," Slumbers said. "But we have ten courses in the pool that we use and we think they're the best links courses in the world, and we're happy with those courses.

"If we think about the past few years, going back to Carnoustie, going back to Hoylake and coming back to here, they've been great successes. We are not looking, at the moment, beyond those ten courses."

Scotland's Muirfield announced in June that it would admit 12 female members this month for the first time in its 275-year history. The club was left out of The Open rotation because its membership didn't vote to admit women in 2016. However, being kept out of the Open rotation forced a second vote in 2017, when members of the club voted in favor of admitting women by more than 80 percent.

LAS VEGAS -- Hossein Ensan defeated Dario Sammartino heads-up to clinch the 2019 World Series of Poker main event title and the $10 million first-place prize.

Ensan, 55, started each of the three days of the final table well ahead of everyone else, and despite ceding that lead to Sammartino early in their heads-up battle, Ensan fought his way back into the lead and held it through the last few hours of the match.

On the 301st hand of the final table and 100th hand between Ensan and Sammartino, Ensan raised to 11 million and Sammartino called. The flop fell Ts-6s-2d, Sammartino checked and Ensan bet 15 million. Sammartino checked again on the 9c turn, Ensan bet 33 million and Sammartino moved all-in for 140 million. With king hearts-king clubs, Ensan called quickly; Sammartino's 8s-4s was behind, but could still hit a straight or flush with one card to come.

With the Qc river, Ensan's fans and friends in the crowd exploded into celebration, as a pair of kings was enough to win the pot and the tournament.

"It's unbelievable, I cannot understand this moment. ... I must go to sleep and wake up, and then maybe I know I have the bracelet," said Ensan. "Maybe it's a dream. I don't know."

The 2019 WSOP main-event final table was unlike any that came before it, with loud, boisterous chants going on throughout play. Such was the level of respect and good spirits that after the event concluded, both sets of supporters chanted in unison for each player.

"He's a really good guy," Sammartino said of Ensan shortly after the tournament concluded. "I met him a long time ago; we are friends and I really love him, so I'm really happy for him. Of course I wanted to win this, but he is the winner, so bravo."

Early on in Tuesday's action, the tournament swung in Sammartino's direction during a key hand against Alex Livingston, in which Sammartino turned two-pair, tens and sixes, and doubled up for the second time on the day against Livingston's pocket kings. Livingston would soon be eliminated in third place, when his ace-jack failed to defeat Ensan's ace-queen. Livingston settled for third place and $4 million.

After two dominant days in a row to start, Ensan saw his advantage slip. He ceded the top position to Livingston briefly before regaining it in short order going into heads-up play. On the second hand of that battle, Sammartino hit two running pairs on the turn and river to win a pot worth over 180 million to claim the lead -- and he wouldn't give it back for some time.

Ensan fought his way back to the top, though, and became just the second German champion in WSOP main event history, following in the footsteps of Pius Heinz, the 2011 champion who took home $8.7 million. He is also the third Iranian-born player to capture the main event title; Mansour Matloubi (1990) and Hamid Dastmalchi (1992) are also previous winners. At 55, Ensan is also the oldest world champion since 1999, when Ireland's Noel Furlong won at age 61.

The main event drew 8,569 players, the second-largest field in the tournament's history, with a total prize pool of $80,548,604.

Final results:

1. Hossein Ensan (Germany), $10 million

2. Dario Sammartino (Italy), $6 million

3. Alex Livingston (Canada), $4 million

4. Garry Gates (United States), $3 million

5. Kevin Maahs (United States), $2.2 million

6. Zhen Cai (United States), $1.85 million

7. Nick Marchington (England), $1.525 million

8. Timothy Su (United States), $1.25 million

9. Milos Skrbic (Serbia), $1 million

A dozen or so kids line up to catch a pass from Baker Mayfield, and one of them is so gut-wrenchingly adorable, I briefly wonder if he's a plant. It's an absurd thought, but the whole scenario carries a whiff of predetermined charm. The visual of Mayfield playing football with hundreds of children at his camp in Norman, Oklahoma, is a publicist's dream, and this tiny blond, bespectacled child is straight out of central casting. He's wearing a Baker-esque headband (every camper received one) and knee socks with the quarterback's face on them. When he walks up to Mayfield, his sneakers sink into the muddy field, and everyone watching goes Ooh.

Mayfield hunches over a little -- standing just over 6 feet tall in shorts and Nikes, he looks more like a regular dad playing catch with his kids than an NFL quarterback -- and gingerly places a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I don't know where you got those socks," Mayfield says, winking. "But I love them."

The kid is real, of course. I can see his parents in the crowd; even though the sun boils us like bugs underneath a magnifying glass, they're the ones desperately trying to capture every second of this encounter. Craig and Malia Harvey drove 12 hours from their small hometown in Colorado to attend Mayfield's camp. Malia tells me that their 5-year-old, Gavin, wore his Mayfield socks over a suit to his kindergarten graduation ceremony; he's studied every detail of the quarterback's journey, including his now-iconic celebrations. "He imitates them," Craig explains.

"When he plays soccer, he lifts up his shirt and celebrates," Malia says.

"He's running around, swinging the arm and everything," Craig says.

There was a time not long ago, before Mayfield led the Browns to their first win in nearly two seasons, before Cleveland heralded him as the franchise's long-awaited savior, before Mayfield beefed with his former head coach (more on that later), when such revelry provoked angst among the self-appointed guardians of college football's moral code. On two occasions -- one time when Mayfield grabbed his crotch in the general direction of the Kansas sideline, another when he planted an Oklahoma flag on Ohio State's field after an upset victory, equal parts Buzz Aldrin and Buzz McCallister -- the young quarterback was shamed into delivering mea culpas, apologizing to fans for stunting too hard.

And yet Gavin's parents shrug at the mention of those public stumbles. Sure, they don't want their son doing everything Mayfield's done, but they're happy that a tiny kid like Gavin has a (relatively) tiny quarterback to admire, an overlooked athlete, now one of the most famous walk-ons in college football history, who proved his doubters wrong. His height, his flaws, his story -- it all makes Mayfield seem more real to them, like he's a human playing a position normally reserved for superheroes. "He is who he is, and he doesn't apologize for it," Malia says.

As I watch the quarterback gently toss a ball to Gavin, I think about how quickly he's won over not only these people but millions more like them, a region of skeptics who wandered in the quarterback wilderness for decades, only to find themselves converted into believers by an undersized kid from Texas with immeasurable faith in himself. Then I remember something Mayfield told me a few weeks ago, when I met him for the first time. "You get this term" -- Mayfield had paused, making air quotations with his fingers -- "'franchise QB.' That's like being a politician." He spat out the phrase in a way that suggested he didn't particularly care for it, even though it's generally used to describe the league's most valuable players, the traditional role models that teams are built around.

"You don't have to do that," he said.

The Cleveland Browns are favored to win their division. Read that sentence again and let it wash over you; marvel at the implausibility of those words being printed in order, passing untouched through a fact-checker's hands. The Cleveland Browns. Are Favored. To Win. Their Division. The organization that's doubled as a punch line for the better part of the NFL's modern era is now the buzziest team in football, a turnaround that began in earnest last winter when Cleveland won five of its final seven games and Mayfield threw his 27th touchdown, a rookie record. Now everyone -- fans, reporters, marketers, bettors -- wants a piece of the Browns. They want Myles Garrett, the quirky sack artist with sizzling potential; they want Odell Beckham Jr., the wildly talented wide receiver who was traded from the Giants earlier this year.

But most of all, they want Mayfield.

And here he is: strolling into the Browns' practice facility in Berea, Ohio, on a chilly April afternoon, dressed unassumingly in gray sweats, his bushy offseason beard shaking like a turkey's wattle when he laughs (he laughs a lot). The prince who was promised. Whenever Mayfield enters a space, he has a way of connecting with everyone in his path that reminds me of a comment coach Hue Jackson made last spring, comparing Mayfield to the Pied Piper. (The analogy, intended to illustrate the quarterback's rare charisma, struck most people as deeply weird.) Walking past Browns staffers, the quarterback doles out daps and bro nods, stopping to pet Moose, the chocolate Lab who lives in the Browns' office. When someone presents Mayfield with a box of cookies, he pats his belly and sighs. "You know I'm trying to stay away from sweets!" he says.

I ask him if it feels weird, starting the offseason with so much hype. "For them," he says, flicking his wrist toward the door. "Not for me." He cocks an eyebrow and grins. "For everybody else around here, it's been pretty terrible to be part of this team for a while." Then he laughs. Not unkindly but in a way that suggests he thinks everyone in Cleveland is in on the joke.

Until the day of the draft, Mayfield wasn't sure the Browns would take him with the first overall pick. (For a while, he was convinced New England would trade up for him at No. 2.) He found the challenge of joining a long-struggling team -- Cleveland's last playoff appearance was in 2002 -- exhilarating. "I wanted to come here and play and be the one to change it right away," he explains, snapping his fingers. The Browns had other plans. In March, before Mayfield was picked, the team announced that any quarterback drafted would sit and study behind veteran Tyrod Taylor, a developmental road map with support across the organization.

"I wasn't happy about it, but I understood it," Mayfield says. He appreciated that the team was upfront about the plan -- honesty means a great deal to him -- and he saw the value in learning on the sidelines, especially after sitting out a year at Oklahoma. He also respects Taylor, whom he describes as thoughtful and kind, and he didn't want to step on his toes. "There's no reason to be an ass," he says. Still, it was a little infuriating. As a rookie, he was told to be deferential and quiet, qualities that, unsurprisingly, do not come naturally to a player who once trolled the Texas Longhorns after a Cotton Bowl win by galloping off the field on an imaginary horse.

"Me being me, I wanna be that guy in the locker room, I wanna be myself. But at the same time, I had heard so many different things from different guys and read things ... " Mayfield sighs. "I wanted to go through the process and learn as much as I could so when the moment arose -- then it would be my time. Then I could be that person and let it all go."

That moment arrived sooner than expected. Mayfield had been looking forward to the Jets game in Week 3 as soon as the Browns' schedule was released, praying that he'd have the opportunity to go head-to-head with rookie Sam Darnold, a quarterback he'd been compared to for years. "I woke up that morning" -- he pauses and grins, a little sheepishly --"not feeling dangerous. But I woke up and said: 'It's game day.' I had a different type of juice that morning. It was weird."

After struggling to move the ball for much of the first half, Taylor exited the game with a concussion, and Mayfield came in with just over a minute left. He threw his first pass to receiver Jarvis Landry, threading the ball between two defenders for a first down. The home fans lost their minds. "It was like a weight lifted off their shoulders," Mayfield says, before imitating an imaginary fan and whispering: "Thank you." He shakes his head. "You could tell the energy was in the air. You could feel it: This might be the first win. And when it finally happened, it was like, 'Well, what do we do now?'"

That night, the city celebrated like the Browns had just won the Super Bowl. The merriment was short-lived; the team went on to lose five of its next six games, with Mayfield struggling to stay upright (he took 21 sacks). During that period, reports surfaced that Jackson, who had compiled a 1-31 record over his first two seasons as head coach, was tangling with offensive coordinator Todd Haley behind closed doors, a feud that had been foreshadowed in the preseason by a couple of tense scenes on HBO's "Hard Knocks." Mayfield's eyes widen when talking about the Shakespearean drama that unfolded in Berea last fall. "People have no idea," he says. "Any time you combine the personalities we had -- at offensive coordinator, at defensive coordinator and head coach -- heads are gonna clash. That's just a known thing."

As tensions mounted, Mayfield tried to keep his head down. "I had never gone through a rookie season before, but I'm pretty sure that's not exactly how it's supposed to go," he says, a wry look crossing his face. Then, the morning after the Browns lost their third straight game, falling 33-18 to the Steelers at the end of October, all hell broke loose. Cleveland fired not only Jackson but Haley too; Gregg Williams, the notoriously polarizing defensive coordinator -- and the source of many meme-able moments on "Hard Knocks," mostly because of his profanity -- was elevated to interim head coach.

Two weeks later, the Bengals announced they were bringing on Jackson, a former offensive coordinator in Cincinnati under Marvin Lewis, to coach the team's defense as a special assistant. The coach's supporters pointed out that he had a right to find work and that Cincinnati was a soft landing spot. But the news landed with a thud in Cleveland. Jackson, an offensive specialist, was intimately familiar with the inner workings of the Browns' game plan -- and now he was helping the Bengals' defense, which they had to face two times that season. Guard Joel Bitonio said their former coach had gone "back to the enemy." When Cleveland faced the Bengals for the first time that November, crushing them 35-20, safety Damarious Randall picked off an Andy Dalton pass and handed the ball to Jackson on the sideline.

After the game, cameras caught an awkward interaction between the coach and Mayfield, who seemed to dodge a hug before shaking Jackson's hand stiffly. Asked about it later, Mayfield called Jackson out for going to a division rival. The next day, ESPN analyst Damien Woody criticized Mayfield's comments, noting that Mayfield had left Texas Tech for Oklahoma. The quarterback responded in the comments on an Instagram video of Woody's remarks: I didn't lose 30+ games be fake and then do that. ... I wasn't gonna have a scholarship. Good try though buddy.

Would a so-called franchise quarterback clap back on social media? Probably not. But Mayfield doesn't regret it. "I said what I meant," he says. "Don't stand up in front of us the week before and try to tell us you're doing everything for us, then go take a job with a team we play twice a year. It was one of those honesty and respect things." The quarterback says he didn't mind the blowback, though it did bother him when people said he was disregarding Jackson's need to earn a living, given that his former coach was still getting paid by the Browns. I ask him if he relished beating the Bengals last season. "Absolutely," he says. "I'm not gonna lie to you and say that the first time I played Hue did not feel good. It's human nature to want to get revenge."

Today, Jackson, who is no longer working for Cincinnati, says he doesn't regret taking the Bengals job. "I wanted to coach and help a friend and organization I respect," he says. He tells me he hasn't spoken with Mayfield since the season ended but doesn't harbor any ill will toward his former charge. "Baker's gonna be Baker," he says. "He was disappointed that I left and was with a team in the division. ... That was his feeling and I have to respect it."

Jackson adds that he stands by his Pied Piper analogy, noting that Mayfield "has a way of drawing people to him" with his charisma that astonished him, even when the coach found himself on the outside looking in. "Opponents? He doesn't like you. People on the fence? He doesn't want to be around them," Jackson says. "That's the way he's made. ... You're either all-in with him or you're not."

His description sounds severe, but it isn't meant as criticism. At least not completely. "It serves the purpose you need," Jackson says, "if it leads to wins."

Mayfield's friends call him "The 12-Year-Old," because, well, he kind of looks like he's 12 (the quarterback turned 24 in April). When he smiles, you can see a tiny gap between his two front teeth; it's easy to imagine him as a mischievous little kid, starting food fights and pulling pigtails. But his mother, Gina, says that couldn't be further from the truth. "He was a rules follower," she tells me over the phone, cracking up a little. As a boy, she says, Baker loathed getting in trouble. Gina recounts one incident, now infamous in the Mayfield family, when she asked her 9-year-old son to go outside and roll down the windows of the family's parked Chevy Tahoe and he accidentally drove it across the street and into a tree belonging to the town's mayor. "He was hysterically upset and crying," she says. "I didn't think I was gonna get him to come out of the house for two days."

As a child growing up just outside Austin, Texas, Mayfield says he was a teacher's pet, mostly because he wanted to please others. (One of his greatest accomplishments in elementary school, he adds, was earning the right to nap behind his kindergarten teacher's desk.) He was shy and deeply afraid of making mistakes. "I hated speaking in front of people," he says. Mayfield didn't really find his voice until the end of high school, when he was navigating the college recruiting process. After just four FBS schools (Florida Atlantic, Rice, New Mexico and Washington State) offered him scholarships, the young quarterback felt confused and, at times, misled. "I realized I'm gonna have to speak my mind if I want to know what's really gonna happen here," he says.

From there, he embarked on one of the more remarkable careers in college football history -- and documented every instance of disrespect he encountered along the way. After Mayfield walked on at Texas Tech and became the starter, his relationship with head coach Kliff Kingsbury soured; he told the media that Kingsbury, now the coach of the Arizona Cardinals, had frozen him out (the two have since buried the hatchet, he says). He took screenshots of comments from reporters who questioned his bona fides. But when asked if he has come across any insults lately, he demurs. "I haven't done that in a while," he says. "There comes a time when I'm gonna have to block that out. ... You've got to find your own motivation."

He sees the skepticism on my face and giggles. "When I want to stir the pot, I'll click to see what [Colin] Cowherd's said lately," he says. In April, after the Fox Sports radio host said his sources had told him that Beckham was unhappy about being traded to the Browns, Mayfield snapped at him on Twitter: "Come to Cleveland and ask O if he actually likes it." In April, he lashed out again when Cowherd listed some of Beckham's off-the-field incidents, calling the host a "clown." (Mayfield has an "incident" of his own on his record -- in college, he pleaded guilty to public intoxication and disorderly conduct.)

When I ask Mayfield about the back-and-forth, he says it bothers him when people perpetuate misinformation about the wide receiver. "He's here to work, and he wants to be surrounded by people who love him and support him and allow him to be himself," he says. "He's here to play in front of fans who actually care, who will actually show up to every game and pack the stadium and love him for who he is." (Regrettably, the Browns do not play the Giants this year.)

Mayfield's approach to leadership has always been driven by tribalism. "He's got his guys and he's got their back and if you're not with them ... you're against him," explains Browns backup Garrett Gilbert, a Lake Travis native who's known Mayfield since elementary school. "There's no in-between. It's very black-and-white."

This binary framework doesn't always translate in a business in which the kinship of a shared jersey matters less to owners than the amount of dead money on a man's contract. In June, Mayfield was asked about one of his teammates, Duke Johnson, a veteran running back who had been phased out of the offense and was asking for a trade. The quarterback's seemingly unsympathetic response -- "You're either on this train or you're not," he told reporters -- rubbed some players the wrong way.

It was a rare misstep for an athlete who, by all accounts, possesses the seductive charisma of a cult leader, galvanizing his teammates by drawing battle lines at every possible turn. Mayfield's coach at Oklahoma, Lincoln Riley, says he was captivated when he watched the walk-on practicing with his college teammates before his first season, screaming encouragements and pushing them to work harder before he had even played a snap. Mayfield, he says, is unlike any player he's been around. "He can play his best when he's talking trash and he's mad and has that edge," he says. "Most quarterbacks are at their worst -- he's at his best."

Ahead of the 2018 draft, Riley's full-throated endorsement of his quarterback helped counter the whispers that the Heisman winner was a clone of Johnny Manziel, a comparison that frustrated Mayfield, who calls it lazy. He imitates an anonymous scout, lowering his voice: "On the field, they have a similar game. But off the field ...they're really the same person."

And yet, when I ask him if he's still worried about being painted incorrectly, he purses his lips. "I feel like athletes use the 'I'm misunderstood' thing too much," he says. "If you're worried about being understood, you're worried about the wrong things."

A month after meeting Mayfield, I return to Cleveland, where he's being photographed for this story. As he changes into his uniform, his fiancée, Emily Wilkinson, sits on a small stage in a warehouse-like loft space near the set, heels dangling over the edge. A couple from Indiana is stocking the bar and setting up tables; they're getting married here this weekend. As Wilkinson, whose own wedding to Mayfield would take place in July, chats with them about their decor, the quarterback creeps behind them and sticks his tongue out at her.

"Is she talking s---?" he asks.

Wilkinson rolls her eyes and shakes her head, her long blond braid flopping over her shoulder. "We're not talking about you," she says, before turning to the bride. "Guard the vodka."

The quarterback and his fiancée, who is from Nebraska, were introduced in 2017 by a mutual friend. At the time, Wilkinson was living in Los Angeles. She says she was wary of dating a "punk football player" and ignored Mayfield's advances for months: He repeatedly followed and unfollowed her on Instagram, trying to attract her attention. Finally, in late December, they exchanged messages. He begged her to meet him before the Rose Bowl, his final college football game. She reluctantly agreed to grab lunch.

"I was assuming he'd be the typical playboy athlete," says Wilkinson, who is four years older than Mayfield. Because the Rose Bowl was the next day, she thought they'd spend most of their date talking about the game. But it barely came up. Instead, she says, Mayfield spent their entire first date peppering her with questions about herself, her family, her plans for the future. The next day, after Oklahoma lost, ending its season, the quarterback texted Wilkinson and told her he was staying in LA. Three days later, he moved in with her and her brothers. Six months later, Emily and Baker were engaged.

As Mayfield walks back from the shoot, he pauses to sign the couple's wedding guest book. "He's such a softy," says Wilkinson, watching from the stage. "He's a mama's boy." Every year, the quarterback sends a packet of birthday cards to Gina, picking out ones with the corniest jokes. He inherited his love of dancing from his mother; when he was small, she would put on Michael Jackson CDs and twirl him around the living room.

Mayfield might not care about being misunderstood, but many of the people in his orbit seem determined to set the record straight on the divide between his public and private personas. "My perception was a lot like everybody's -- that he was kind of an outlandish, fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kinda guy," says Browns head coach Freddie Kitchens, who was coaching the team's running backs at the start of last season. "What I found was somebody totally different." As Kitchens got to know the rookie quarterback, he identified parallels in their journeys. "At the core of everything is the fact that he's always been told no: You can't do this. We're looking for someone else. You're not this," he says. "I think we have that in common."

Before Kitchens was named offensive coordinator last October, he had been an offensive assistant in the NFL for 12 seasons. But he had never been asked to interview for a coordinator position. "I don't sound like you, or most coaches, so the perception of me is different," he tells me in a thick Alabama drawl. "You've got a bunch of gurus out there that tell you what a QB should look like and what a head coach should look like," says Kitchens, who bears a stronger resemblance to someone's cornhole-loving uncle than, say, Kyle Shanahan or Sean McVay. "We don't look like anybody's version of those people."

The day that Kitchens took over the offense, he swore to his players that if they put their trust in him, he wouldn't let them down. "He was emotional. That was life-changing for him," Mayfield says. Over the next two months, coach and quarterback worked hand in hand to fix an offense that had stalled. Kitchens zeroed in on the plays Mayfield was comfortable with, including concepts from college. "Some of the play-action and zone-read stuff, the RPO, how we ran some of our empty packages when I was at Oklahoma, we'd talk about it and get on the same page," Mayfield says.

After Kitchens took over playcalling, the Browns' offense exploded. During the first half of the season, Mayfield completed 58% of his passes with a QBR of just 36; over the last eight weeks, his completion percentage rose to 68% and his QBR nearly doubled. Under the new regime, he landed near the top of the league in most passing categories. As soon as the season ended, Cleveland announced that it was promoting Kitchens, the coach who hadn't even been considered for a coordinator job, to the top spot. Mayfield was elated. "You could tell he just wanted the best for his players," he says.

Coming off the Browns' strong finish last season, the hype around the team was simmering. Then the Beckham news broke -- and expectations erupted. While rumors about a trade had been floating around the NFL for weeks, Mayfield said it was confirmed to him just a few minutes before everyone else, when Kitchens sent him a simple text: "We just got better."

The quarterback smiles at the memory, almost wistfully. "I was overcome with emotion," he says.

Kitchens was right, of course: The Browns did get better. A lot better. So much better that, like Mayfield himself, they can no longer call themselves underdogs, harvesting motivation from perceived slights. After years of being shunted to the outer fringes of the NFL's zeitgeist, the team is fully in the spotlight, with four prime-time games on its schedule after playing at night just three times in the prior three seasons combined. Mayfield is fully aware of the ear-splitting buzz, but he insists it doesn't worry him. "Here's the thing," he says, smirking a little. "They're gonna hype you up. But as soon as you lose a couple of games, they'll throw you in the trash."

If that happens -- if the Browns lose, and the quarterback struggles, and the bubbling optimism in Cleveland boils over like an unwatched pot -- how will Mayfield respond? It's easy to reject the status quo in the NFL when you're winning, but adversity invites second-guessing and hate. It's why so many "franchise quarterbacks" are so bland in public. Sure, some of them are just boring people, but others say little because their silence affords them protection, shielding them from the scrutiny that inevitably follows self-expression.

Mayfield knows all of this but maintains that he doesn't care. He isn't afraid of scrutiny -- god knows he's used to it -- and he doesn't want a shield. "I'm gonna be myself and believe in that," he says. "And if you don't like it, that's OK."

Styling by Courtney Mays; grooming by Connie Kellers; production by Allison Cole; wardrobe: cover image: jacket by The Kooples; bomber jacket and shorts by Nike; T-shirt by Uniqlo; shoes by Nike; Baker with dogs in studio: track suit by Daniel Patrick; T-shirt by ATM; shoes by Nike; bracelets by David Yurman & Miansai; Baker with kids: sweatshirt by Homage; pants by Perry Ellis; shoes by Nike.

BIRMINGHAM, Ala. -- A lawyer convicted of swindling NBA star Charles Barkley and using the name of former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice to bolster an investment scam was sentenced to five years in prison Tuesday.

U.S. District Judge Karon O. Bowdre also ordered Donald Watkins to pay about $14 million in restitution.

Prosecutors had sought a prison sentence of 17-plus years for Watkins and 6-plus years for his son, Donald Watkins Jr. Both were convicted on fraud and conspiracy charges earlier this year. The two men stole more than $15 million from investors and a bank, prosecutors said.

Bowdre said she took the elder man's age, 70, into consideration in imposing a lighter sentence, but the term was stiffer than the home confinement requested by Watkins. She then began a sentencing hearing for the son.

During the pair's trial earlier this year, witnesses including Barkley testified about losing money in an investment scheme run by the elder Watkins.

Barkley, who grew up near Birmingham and now works as a television analyst, described himself as a friend of the elder Watkins, who has split time living in both Alabama and Atlanta.

Barkley lost more than $6 million in investments and loans, prosecutors said, and so did other professional athletes including former NFL players Takeo Spikes and Bryan Thomas and former NBA star Damon Stoudamire.

Stoudamire's wife, Natasha Taylor-Stoudamire, spoke at the sentencing and said she couldn't comprehend what Watkins had done.

"I can't even comprehend how Donald Watkins Sr. and Jr. can take money from me or the rest the victims that were trying to have generational wealth for our children's children," she said, according to al.com.

Rice, a native of Birmingham, testified that Watkins Sr. wrongly used her name in promoting an energy business at the heart of the case. Prosecutors said Watkins included Rice's name in an email to investors although she had declined to get involved.

Watkins once served as a city council member in Montgomery and helped successfully defend HealthSouth Corp. founder Richard Scrushy in a massive fraud that nearly bankrupted the company, now known as Encompass Health. Watkins also has worked on civil rights cases.

More than 15 years ago, Watkins drew media attention when he attempted to purchase a Major League Baseball team. More recently, he said he was attempting to purchase the NFL's St. Louis Rams before the team moved to Los Angeles.

Although he portrayed himself as wealthy, prosecutors said Watkins had a net worth of only a few thousand dollars.

Writing in a blog post before the sentencing, Watkins Sr. said he would continue to appeal his conviction and claimed he was innocent.

"Jurors try to do the right thing, more often than not. However, my 46-years of active participation in the American judicial system has shown me (and the world) that well-meaning jurors often convict innocent defendants," Watkins wrote.

KANSAS CITY, Mo. -- The White Sox's Eloy Jimenez will likely be headed to the injured list, manager Rick Renteria said, after leaving Tuesday's game at Kansas City following a collision in the outfield.

Jimenez was taken out of the game after colliding with center fielder Charlie Tilson while chasing a long fly ball off the bat of Whit Merrifield in the first inning of the Royals' 11-0 win.

As Tilson made the catch, he tangled with Jimenez, who fell to the ground near the left-center-field wall.

After being examined, Jimenez walked off the field holding his right arm.

The White Sox said Jimenez left the game because of right elbow soreness and will be reevaluated in Chicago.

Royals shortstop Adalberto Mondesi also left Tuesday's game in the fifth inning after diving on the warning track in a failed attempt to catch a pop foul by Yolmer Sanchez.

Mondesi was led off the field with head trainer Nick Kenney holding his left arm. The team said Mondesi has a left shoulder injury and will undergo an MRI.

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

Every game, the old chestnut goes, counts the same in the standings. And this is true. Baseball gives no additional weight to extra-inning games, blowouts or comebacks. Each is 1/162nd of an expertly divided pie.

The next two weeks' worth of games, though? They are different. Even the strictest adherents to the they-all-count-equally crowd will admit as much. That especially goes in 2019, when Major League Baseball's playoff picture consists of a few have-lots, a vast majority of have-somes and six distinct have-nots. These games, executives this week said, will serve as the impetus for those in-the-muddled-middle teams to cast their lot. As the trade deadline approaches, will they be buyers? Sellers? Maybe even opt for the high-wire act of buying while selling?

What's clear, at this point, is that almost nothing is clear. Only six teams are trending toward 90 losses, and all of them are verging on spectacularly bad. The Miami Marlins are the only team in the National League on a 90-loss pace. The handful of American League laggards range from bad to awful to please-euthanize-this-season-now: Seattle (on pace for 97 losses), Kansas City (100), Toronto (103), Detroit (110) and Baltimore (114).

You can add the New York Mets to those sellers. It seemed the San Francisco Giants were among the clear sellers, too, but they've ripped off 11 wins in 13 games to leap ahead of the Cincinnati Reds, who have been on the record as avowed buyers. The Colorado Rockies, clear buyers, have lost nine of 11, sit tied with the Giants and aren't entirely sure what the right path is.

They're far from the only ones. Do the Los Angeles Angels, winners of four straight heading into Tuesday, buy or hold? How about the Pittsburgh Pirates, who saw the NL Central as eminently winnable but lost four in a row after the All-Star break? Or the Philadelphia Phillies, 12-19 in their last 31 with two more games against the Los Angeles Dodgers on the docket and a near-double-digit deficit in the NL East? The Oakland Athletics already traded for Homer Bailey; as winners of five straight to start the second half and 18 of 23, do they double down despite being five back of the Houston Astros?

All of these questions will carry us toward ...

1. ... July 31, the one and only deadline day this year, lending it even more weight than it carried in the past. The question proffered a month ago by executives was: How does the elimination of the waiver trading period in August change things? Some assumed the change might cause a flurry of earlier deals or a deluge of trades in the days leading up to the deadline.

While the latter might still happen, the former never materialized. The evolution of the free-agent market reminded executives of a very valuable lesson: Waiting works wonders. Now, this can cut both ways, and the dynamics at play make for a fascinating final two weeks.

Because there is currently a finite amount of sellers, asking prices for the most-valued players are astronomical, according to sources. And that makes sense. If a buyer is that motivated to move now, they should pay a premium, two executives of selling teams said. The lack of impact bats, which runs the risk of finding soft markets because contenders might already have a strong player at the same position, has turned the attention to pitching. "And everybody," one of those executives said, "needs pitching."

That's a fact. What's also closer to fact is that a number of teams will have that critical moment in which they recognize that selling beats buying or standing pat. The Arizona Diamondbacks are one, the Texas Rangers another. Should that happen, the supply will get a re-up and prices will drop to fairer ranges.

Then comes the game of chicken. Can a seller really afford to hold on to a player? Can a buyer really afford to look at the clock at 4:01 p.m. ET on July 31 without having improved his team? This is the state of play. This is where championships are won, where executives earn their paychecks, where strategy is paramount.

For all the posturing, one GM on Tuesday said: "I don't think this is gonna be an active trade deadline." He figures there will be a few deals, but while he's in the market for a starting pitcher, he believes ...

2. ... Noah Syndergaard will not be traded. The price, another GM chuckled, is "a few arms and a leg." The Mets are plenty aware of what they have in Syndergaard: a pitcher with the greatest raw stuff in the game. They also are acutely aware of what they don't have: a good team.

When you don't have a good team but do have players with value, it's irresponsible not to consider dealing them. So the Mets are taking calls on Syndergaard. He's not in the category of Todd Frazier or Jason Vargas, both pending free agents who will fetch C-level prospects when they move. Perhaps he's not the biggest fish, but Syndergaard is still going to take 600-pound test line to reel in.

The San Diego Padres, who have had conversations with the Mets about Syndergaard dating to last year, recognize as much. Their desire to trim their outfield surplus is clear -- they've been shopping Hunter Renfroe and Franmil Reyes for the better part of a year now -- but that doesn't exactly line up with the Mets. San Diego also has talked with teams about Double-A pitchers Adrian Morejon and Michel Baez, both great talents with question marks. Next to the Tampa Bay Rays, San Diego might have the best farm system in baseball -- and one of the deepest. If GM A.J. Preller wants to make a splash, he can.

There is no lack of interest in Syndergaard. Every team gushes at the idea of a 6-foot-6, 240-pound right-hander whose fastball sits at 98 with a slider at 89, has two more above-average pitches and isn't a free agent until after the 2021 season. The Astros are casting a wide net on starting pitching and would love to bring Syndergaard back to Texas, where he grew up. The Milwaukee Brewers share the sentiment, but unless they're inclined to include Keston Hiura in a deal -- they aren't -- they don't have the prospect capital to get him.

The problem, one GM said, is that the Mets want good-Thor prices when he's pitching to a mid-4 ERA. "I mean, I'd do the same," the GM conceded, which is why he doesn't believe Syndergaard moves by July 31. At the same time, the Mets witnessed what can happen by waiting: Zack Wheeler, whose market was as big as that of any pitcher because he's heading into free agency this winter and wouldn't cost as much, went on the injured list Monday with shoulder fatigue. Regardless of the seriousness, the mere mention of an injured shoulder soured a number of executives on acquiring him.

At best, the price on Wheeler -- which wasn't exorbitant to begin with -- has dropped. It's what happens when the game of chicken goes wrong, when the safety net that exists with Syndergaard and ...

3. ... Trevor Bauer isn't there. The soft landing of club control protects the Mets with Syndergaard just as it does the Cleveland Indians with Bauer. Trade him now? Sure. Don't trade him now? Fine. They can do it this winter. Or again at the deadline next year.

Bauer isn't a free agent until after the 2020 season, though the fact that he has zero intention of re-signing with them unless he's paid like the mercenary he intends to be gives Cleveland incentive to move him now. There's that, a salary that could approach $20 million next season depending on how well he pitches in the second half and the return of Mike Clevinger (excellent in his last two starts) and Corey Kluber (throwing a bullpen session Wednesday) to fill out the rotation.

There's also this small matter: Executives think Bauer is the best pitcher to be had. They don't necessarily believe the Indians are going to deal him -- Bauer was very available this winter (and spring) and didn't go anywhere -- but they won't shy away from asking. Because they know Indians president Chris Antonetti and GM Mike Chernoff are trying to thread the very delicate needle of not fading as the tenures of Bauer and, sooner or later, shortstop Francisco Lindor end.

It's a robust market because even the tweener teams see themselves getting Bauer now in order to have him next year, too. That same incentive is fueling the ...

4. ... Marcus Stroman interest. While his peripheral numbers are almost identical to last season's -- a 7.16 strikeouts-per-nine rate compared to 6.77 last year, 2.77 walks per nine vs. 3.17 and 0.81 homers per nine vs. 0.79 -- his ERA is more than two full points lower. Stroman was not nearly as bad as his 5.54 ERA last season indicated -- and might not be quite as good as his 3.25 ERA this year.

So the teams interested in him must balance that with the Blue Jays' capacity to keep him. Like most of the desirable pitchers in trade talks right now, Stroman is a free agent after the 2020 season. In his case, the return needs to be significant enough to cover a year and a third of his value, plus the compensatory pick the Blue Jays would get for giving him a qualifying offer following the 2020 season. Because of their market size, the best the Blue Jays could get if Stroman were to reject the offer would be a pick somewhere in the mid- to high 70s.

In other words: He's gettable, and multiple GMs expect Stroman to be dealt before July 31. The demand for him could depend on the next two weeks, or even the next week, at which point ...

5. ... Mike Minor's status with the Rangers could be clearer. Texas is 50-45 and in third place in the AL West, 8½ games back of Houston and four behind Oakland and Cleveland, which are tied for the second wild card. The Rangers' calculus is more multilayered than that of other teams.

Texas will move into a new stadium in 2020, and the desire to field a winning team in that stadium is real. Minor is a big reason the Rangers are where they are, with a 2.73 ERA and nearly a strikeout per inning. He is plenty cheap, too, at just $9.5 million next year, whereas Stroman will make roughly $12 million in his final arbitration season.

Should the Rangers deal Minor -- rival executives believe they would for a high price -- others could go. Hunter Pence, Logan Forsythe and Asdrubal Cabrera are free-agents-to-be and fit as role players anywhere. The Rangers also have multiple years of control on Danny Santana and Jose LeClerc, who intrigue buyers.

Where Minor fits into the market with ...

6. ... Robbie Ray potentially available is an interesting question being asked by teams desiring starters. Like Texas, Arizona hasn't officially jumped into the sellers' market yet. Like the Rangers, the Diamondbacks could be a buy-and-sell team, similar to what Tampa Bay did last season when it dealt Opening Day starter Chris Archer and traded prospects for Tommy Pham. David Peralta, Greg Holland, Alex Avila, Andrew Chafin, Adam Jones and Jarrod Dyson are all Diamondbacks who could go.

The Diamondbacks have very quietly cobbled together an interesting roster. Ketel Marte is playing like a star. Re-signing Eduardo Escobar proved savvy. The Paul Goldschmidt deal could be a monster win, particularly if catcher Carson Kelly is anywhere near as good as he has looked and Luke Weaver pitches like he did before suffering an elbow injury. Compound that core with what could be a top-5 system, and Arizona's rebuild-without-tearing-down would be a model.

Dealing Ray could factor into that. Since joining Arizona's rotation full-time in 2016, Ray's 11.76 strikeouts-per-nine rate ranks third in baseball behind Max Scherzer's 11.93 and Chris Sale's 11.88. Even if Ray lacks the control and command of those two, his raw stuff makes him wildly attractive to teams that could deploy him in a starting role or even use him as a devastating October bullpen option.

Ray is far likelier to go than Zack Greinke, whose salary -- $35 million for each of the next two seasons and another $14 million or so this year -- limits his market. Even then, the Diamondbacks' desire not to bottom out makes trading Greinke, their best pitcher, that much more difficult. The Giants should feel no such compunction when it comes to ...

7. ... Madison Bumgarner, a player who has meant even more to their organization than Greinke to his. San Francisco's recent success isn't throwing a wrench in the team's trade-Bumgarner-and-all-the-relievers plan. Even with its best run of the year, the Giants are three games below .500 and have the third-worst run differential in the NL. They are selling. One more time, a bit slower. They. Are. Selling. Which is a difficult thing to pitch to a fan base and clubhouse of players who are enjoying this winning stuff.

It's just the truth. The only question, really, is where he's going to end up. Minnesota, which has been in on practically every available starter, is an option. Milwaukee, which is stuck around .500 with a negative run differential, needs an upgrade. The Astros could do wonders for Bumgarner, as he could for them. Even the Phillies, who still hold the second wild-card spot in the NL despite their wretched run, are an option.

The Giants tried to jump the deadline on a Bumgarner deal a month ago. When nothing substantive came of that, they resolved to wait -- and interested teams believe that waiting will continue until close to July 31. Everyone knows what Bumgarner is. The actual prices they're willing to pay won't reveal themselves until the clock starts ticking louder. And when they do, we'll be able to see whether ...

8. ... Will Smith or Bumgarner garner the greater return. This has been a point of debate among executives, who recognize Bumgarner's pedigree, credentials and especially his postseason bona fides. They also know that 2019 is a bullpen game and October a bullpen month. If Smith isn't the crème de la crème among relievers, he's certainly in the coffee mug.

The relief market will be the most active of any, executives believe, simply because bullpens are so mediocre and relief usage is paramount in the postseason. Smith, who provides more usefulness as a left-hander, is one of many relievers who could be on the move. San Diego is listening on closer Kirby Yates. Detroit is trying to parlay a career year from closer Shane Greene into a big return and listening on Joe Jimenez and his big strikeout rate, too.

Toronto is inclined to move Ken Giles -- and should do the same with Daniel Hudson, who has a 1.91 ERA since the season's first week. The Jays have another trade option on their roster: Aaron Sanchez, the longtime starter, whose stuff, multiple teams believe, would play exceptionally well in a relief role.

The Royals should find a solid market for left-hander Jake Diekman and will pay down Ian Kennedy's salary to move him after his resurgence in the bullpen. Ditto for the Rockies and Jake McGee and Bryan Shaw, if they decide to sell. The Chicago White Sox have a pair of solid, controllable relievers in Alex Colome (free agent after 2020) and Aaron Bummer (2024). There are so many more. Raisel Iglesias, should Cincinnati sell. Seth Lugo could be another Met to move, as could Edwin Diaz if GM Brodie Van Wagenen is really willing to rejigger the roster.

That one sits firmly on the "quite unlikely" list, though even a week ago the prospect of ...

9. ... Felipe Vazquez leaving the Pirates wasn't all that great. It still might not be, even as the Pirates stumble through July. As Buster Olney wrote, there are good and bad reasons for the Pirates to deal Vazquez.

The good, of course, is the enormous return they'd receive for him. Vazquez has been exceptionally consistent as the Pirates' closer the past three seasons, sits 98 mph with his fastball, has a legitimate four-pitch mix, is death on right-handed hitters (and historically the same on lefties) and agreed to one of the most team-friendly contracts in baseball last year. He'll make only $5.25 million next year, $7.25 million in 2021 and has a pair of club options at $10 million apiece that can be exercised one at a time.

The Pirates could look at the NL Central landscape, see the Cubs' window closing, the Brewers and Cardinals stagnating and the Reds still with holes, and reasonably believe they could contend for division titles over the course of that deal. They also could say that while acknowledging that a one-inning relief pitcher who provides massive return is baseball's version of a gift horse. Thing is, the specter of ...

10. ... July 31 does weird things to teams. Delusions of grandeur intersect with agonies of defeat. Arbitrage opportunities abound. Talks live. They die. They're resuscitated. They die again. They get mouth-to-mouth -- or text-to-text -- and die one more time.

It's frustrating but also edifying and intriguing. Unlike the dopamine rush of the NBA, in which the stars leverage their destinations and essentially hand-pick their teams, baseball is a never-ending puzzle in which one seemingly insignificant late-July trade can make the difference between championship and heartbreak.

Maybe Nicholas Castellanos, whose market hasn't hit a rolling boil yet, steps up with the go-ahead run on base in Game 7 of the World Series. Perhaps another team pays the exorbitant asking price for his Detroit teammate, Matthew Boyd, who's on the mound. If Cleveland sells Bauer, it could follow the Vazquez corollary and do the same with closer Brad Hand, who combines excellence with a team-friendly deal.

Just when one GM thinks it's going to be a quiet deadline, the baseball world can go from zero to irrational in under three seconds, because that's how July 31 works -- especially with no deals to be consummated after it. This time of year, you're only as good as your last week. Those vital weeks are upon baseball, ready to render judgment and dictate what sort of trade deadline 2019 will offer.

Commonwealth 800m silver medallist fined and ordered to undertake athletics community service following incident at BMC meeting

Britain’s Kyle Langford has been handed a £1000 fine and must do a day of community service at a junior athletics meet following a physical altercation with an official at the BMC meeting at his local track in Watford last month.

The Commonwealth 800m silver medallist is said to have issued “immediate apologies” to the official concerned and has escaped suspension following the incident, which came after Langford received a red card for warming up on the track while another race was taking place.

After apologising, Langford – who finished fourth in the 800m at the 2017 IAAF World Championships in London – was allowed to run the race and finished fifth in 1:46.76.

In a statement published on Wednesday, UK Athletics said: “Following an incident at the BMC GP Watford on 29 June, a UKA disciplinary investigation has fully reviewed the matters and considered witness accounts of the event including the parties directly involved.

“As a WCP (World Class Programme) funded athlete, Mr Langford is bound by the terms of the WCP agreement which sets the standards in relation to conduct. The actions – which the athlete has readily admitted – fell well below the standard expected. The investigation took into account the immediate apologies issued to the official concerned thereafter.

“The following sanctions will apply: A formal (and final warning) reprimand will be entered upon his record; a disciplinary sanction entry on the UKA website.

“It has also been determined that the following sanctions should also apply to the athlete: £1000 fine, to be donated to charity; one day of athletics community service – to be served assisting officials at an athletics event with junior athletes.”

Yesterday I let myself and my support team down by reacting angrily to an official at the BMC event.
I allowed pre-race tension to get to me too much and my behaviour fell well short of what it should be. pic.twitter.com/0jpA1iSX91

— Kyle langford (@KyleLangford_96) June 30, 2019

In a statement posted on Twitter the day after the incident, Langford said: “Yesterday I let myself and my support team down by reacting angrily to an official at the BMC event. I allowed pre-race tension to get to me too much and my behaviour fell well short of what it should be.

“I have apologised to the official involved and have also followed up in writing, but I know that this wasn’t acceptable and I apologise that I behaved in that way.

“The officials in the UK are amongst the best in the world, and their work at events like the BMC have meant athletes like me have had chance to compete in some brilliant races. Once again, I’m very sorry and will be sure never to repeat this behaviour.”

Prop Gareth Milasinovich will miss much of his debut season with Ulster after suffering a knee ligament injury.

The Irish-qualified forward, 26, must undergo surgery to repair the ACL tear he suffered in pre-season training.

Ulster say the injury will keep the former Worcester Warriors player out of action for approximately nine months.

Milasinovich, who can play on both sides of the scrum, was expected to provide cover for first-choice tight-head Marty Moore this season.

The South Africa-born prop qualifies for Ireland through his grandfather Norman McFarland, a former Ulster hooker.

Milasinovich was one of six new recruits for Ulster during the summer along with Ireland prop Jack McGrath from Leinster, locks Sam Carter and David O'Connor, utility back Matt Faddes from the Highlanders and Munster fly-half Bill Johnston.

The son of Arsenal owner Stan Kroenke admitted that the club are not in the position to compete for trophies this season amid growing unrest among the team's supporters worldwide, but added that silverware is still ultimately the goal in the very near future.

Kroenke, and the Kroenke Sports & Entertainment (KSE) that owns Arsenal, was criticised by Arsenal supporters' groups on Monday in a two-page letter that labelled the American billionaire "passive" and "absent" and using the club as an "investment vehicle."

In response, Josh Kroenke -- the vice-chairman of KSE and son of owner Stan -- said that the club is no longer able to compete for top trophies right now but are working their way back, while adding that he felt the disappointment of the fans and the team.

"As much as we would love to say that we'll be competing for the top trophies tomorrow, we know that that's not the case and that we have to get to work on that," Kroenke said in an interview on the club's website. He prefaced that comment by saying Arsenal's goal is still to win silverware.

Kroenke said he is confident in the "significant changes" in the last 18 months -- like the addition of a first-ever technical director in former midfielder Edu -- to lay the foundations to allow the club to achieve their goal of eventually winning silverware again.

"From our coaching staff to our management, there have been significant changes that have gone on and I'm really excited to let those foundations continue to grow and take shape to build a successful future for Arsenal.

"[We've appointed] Per Mertesacker, and most recently we appointed Edu -- so we have a technical director for the first time in the history of Arsenal. We have a man who has Arsenal DNA. We have an Invincible."

Arsenal finished fifth in the Premier League last season, one point behind North London rivals Spurs who came in fourth, in head coach Unai Emery's first season in charge after taking over from longtime boss Arsene Wenger. The Gunners will compete in the Europa League again this season, having lost in the final of last year's competition to Chelsea in Baku.

Kroenke told fans to be excited about upcoming signings this summer, saying: "There are a few things that I know our group are working on, and a few things we hopefully have on the doorstep."

Arsenal's only signing this summer is Brazilian teenager Gabriel Martinelli, while Aaron Ramsey left for Juventus and captain Laurent Koscielny is on strike.

Stan Kroenke first invested in Arsenal in 2007 and went on to become majority shareholder in 2011.

Arsenal have not won the Premier League since 2004, with their last trophy being the FA Cup in 2017. The 2019-20 season will be their third in a row without Champions League football.