by Mitch Albom | Feb 22, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
CALGARY, Alberta — This is a story about an American hockey team that did not play defense, lost three times in five tries, and watched helplessly as a West German player put a final nail into its Olympic hope chest.
The puck stops here. For the second Winter Olympics in a row, the United States has been eliminated from the medal round. It was a sad moment for American fans who saw West Germany’s Roy Roedger whack a puck into an open net with 51 seconds left — the final dagger in a 4-1 U.S. defeat.
by Mitch Albom | Feb 22, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
CALGARY, Alberta — It was over before the second guy even skated. You knew that watching Brian Boitano Saturday night, knew it when, in the middle of the final cyclone twist of a brilliant routine, he jerked his head skyward with a smile that said it was all worth it, all the wait, all the work, everything, because the gold medal was coming, it was just a matter of time.
Nailed it.
“I had such a feeling of accomplishment,” Boitano said Sunday, recalling the pinnacle moment of his skating career. “I looked at the ceiling and just sort of said, ‘Thank you.’ “
by Mitch Albom | Feb 21, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
CALGARY, Alberta — We are watching the sleds come down the hill. The sun is warm. Our feet are in mud.
“Who’s winning?” someone asks.
“Who cares?” comes our answer.
We are not interested in winners in this Olympic two-man bobsled competition. We know the winners will be East German or Soviet, because they are winning everything else.
Nor are we interested in the U.S. team, because every time we turn around, someone on the U.S. team is suing someone else on the U.S. team. Besides, the Americans are in 24th place.
by Mitch Albom | Feb 21, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
CALGARY, Alberta — It was over before the second guy even skated. You knew that watching Brian Boitano Saturday night, knew it when, in the middle of the final cyclone twist of a brilliant routine, he jerked his head skyward with a smile that said it was all worth it, all the wait, all the work, everything, because the gold medal was coming, it was just a matter of time.
by Mitch Albom | Feb 21, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
CALGARY, Alberta — We are watching the sleds come down the hill. Our feet are in mud. The sun is warm.”Who’s winning?” someone asks.”Who cares?” comes our answer.We are not interested in winners in this Olympic bobsled competition....
by Mitch Albom | Feb 19, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
Look, if you don’t want to play, you don’t have to. But don’t start hacking Ben Wallace. In the second quarter? If that’s the best the Cleveland Cavaliers can come up with, maybe they should rethink this whole second-round thing.
True, they were already trailing by 20. And yes, they were clearly out of ideas. They had already used the 24-second violation, the five-second violation and the three-second violation. There’s not much left. Maybe pass interference.
by Mitch Albom | Feb 19, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
CALGARY, Alberta — I am leafing through Mozart and Mendelssohn and Marvin Hamlisch. I consider Bach, then I put down Bach and consider Beethoven. I am searching for the right music for my particular brand of figure skating.”How about ‘The Four...
by Mitch Albom | Feb 18, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
CALGARY, Alberta — The bodies were all over the ice, the crowd screaming madly, and the puck — the puck! — was just sitting there, between the legs of Soviet goalie Sergei Mylnikov, who was sprawled, face down, in the crease. Todd Okerlund saw it, reached for it, flicked it in and followed for good measure, his whole body in the net, and for one moment, one brief, loud, but glorious moment, everything seemed possible again. How far back had the Americans been in this Olympic hockey game? Trailing, 6-2, at the start of the third period, even the ABC network had broken away.
by Mitch Albom | Feb 18, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
CALGARY, Alberta — Once upon a time, before blimps, the Olympics worked like this: You grew up in a small town, you sailed to some foreign place, you competed, you won a medal, you sailed home and got invited to all the good parties. This was a fine system, because you always knew where to find a former Olympian in case he owed you money. You needed Jurgen, the Swedish ski jumper, you went to Sweden and looked around.
by Mitch Albom | Feb 17, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
CALGARY, Alberta — I walked down the corridor of press offices, and knocked softly on the door marked “TASS.” It was opened by an older man in a gray coat.
“Hello,” I said quickly, extending a hand. The man shook his head, pointed at the floor and began babbling in Russian.
Trouble, I figured. But I figured wrong. What he was saying, I would learn, was: “We Russians don’t shake hands through a doorway; come inside and shake like friends.”
