by Mitch Albom | Nov 16, 1998 | Detroit Free Press
The first thing I saw when I entered the Silverdome parking lot Sunday night was a Lions fan leaning against his car. He had a bag over his head.
This was not an encouraging sign. As headgear goes, the bag rates low on the sports list, behind the rainbow wig, the big piece of cheese, and the beer cans with plastic sucking straws. Still, I had to wonder how many fans would be there at all — including Mr. Baghead — if Barry Sanders were not on the team.
by Mitch Albom | Nov 15, 1998 | Detroit Free Press
Let me tell you about my neighbors.
On one side, in a tri-level house, are Morty and Josie, who have two kids. Josie has big blond hair and wears frosted lipstick. Morty is the life of the party, always laughing and smoking a cigar.
On the other side are Jay and Shirley and their three boys. The boys play football at the side of the house. Whenever they get any spare change, they put it in a cup in the kitchen so that one day they can buy a swimming pool.
by Mitch Albom | Nov 13, 1998 | Detroit Free Press
Forget Colorado. Forget Philly. Forget Washington or St. Louis. Detroit’s best rivalry — and maybe the best in the NHL these days — is Red Wings-Stars.Why? All great rivalries need several things. Hatred, yes. But that’s not enough. Otherwise,...
by Mitch Albom | Nov 9, 1998 | Detroit Free Press
PHILADELPHIA — And then, the coach went ballistic.
“I’m ticked off!” croaked Bobby Ross after his football team’s latest exercise in humiliation. “I get all the damn criticism — people hammering me! I’m a good coach! I know what the heck’s supposed to be done! And I’m not going to second-guess myself one damn time!”
(Let’s pause here to wipe the spittle from the microphone. Also to remove all children from the room. OK …back to the tirade….)
by Mitch Albom | Nov 8, 1998 | Detroit Free Press
It’s easy to feel old in America. You can feel old even if you’re young.Take the case of a TV writer named Riley Weston. She was hired for creating a new show called “Felicity,” which deals with the life and loves of a college freshman. Weston...
by Mitch Albom | Nov 6, 1998 | Detroit Free Press
After all these years, we now know that “Love Story” got it wrong. It’s boxing that means you never have to say you’re sorry.
by Mitch Albom | Nov 3, 1998 | Detroit Free Press
News media reports indicate that apathy is at an all-time high in our country, and that small percentages of the voters are actually planning to go to the booths today. Six years ago, I wrote the following poem about apathy. The Free Press reran it before the 1996 presidential election. And it still rings true today on the cusp of another election.
I heard a knock upon my door
And opened it to see
All the poor around the world
Looking back at me
In tattered clothes and worn-out shoes
With families to feed,
They held their hands out, hopefully,
by Mitch Albom | Nov 2, 1998 | Detroit Free Press
Let’s be calm. Let’s be cool. Let’s begin our talk about the Lions’ season-crushing defeat Sunday by referring to a higher power, such as God.God, that was pathetic.I’ve seen tax returns more exciting. I’ve seen train wrecks that...
by Mitch Albom | Nov 1, 1998 | Detroit Free Press
They didn’t have things like Space Camp when I was a kid, but if they had, I would have gone. I was a space nut. I kept scrapbooks of every mission. I glued together plastic model rockets, always making sure the flag decal was nice and straight on the side.
At summer camp in 1969, I was already awake when they woke us to watch Neil Armstrong on the moon. I saw him descend the ladder of the lunar excursion module — or LEM as we insiders called it — and he said, “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,” I was thrilled.
I never asked why he was doing it.
by Mitch Albom | Oct 28, 1998 | Detroit Free Press
Such a little girl. That was the impression you had when you stood next to Dominique Moceanu at the Atlanta Olympics. Such a little girl. At 14, she came up to the waist of an average-sized man, and with her elfin grin and pigtailed hair, you wanted to scoop her up...
