I am getting a little tired of traveling around the country and hearing sports fans say: “Oh, you’re from Detroit? How are they doing?” The next person who says that to me, I kick.
The fact is, Detroit is doing better than any other sports city in 1987, thank you. And I am sure people in such high- cultured, well-educated places such as New York and Los Angeles would quickly realize this, if they ever stopped shopping.
ROME — The runners were charging to the tape in the 1,500- meter final, but I can’t tell you who was in front. I was watching the guy in last place, the tall, sandy-haired American whose steps were labored and whose face was strained. He was way behind, maybe 60 yards, but I kept waiting for him to charge, to kick, to win. It was stupid. I can’t help it.
His name is Steve Scott. He is the first athlete I ever interviewed.
ROME — There are two things you can count on whenever you hold a big international track and field competition: (1) A lot of medals will be won by communist-bloc athletes; (2) sooner or later, somebody will yell “DRUGS!”
All week long at these World Track and Field Championships we’ve had the former: East Germany and Russia are cleaning up in the medal department. And now we have the latter. “DRUGS!” This from the mouth of Carl Lewis. Where you usually find a foot.
One question can tell you flat out whether a quarterback has the right stuff. One question, above all the others, separates the sharks from the fish, the guys who fire from the guys who just tickle the trigger. One question. And we are going to ask Chuck Long that question.
In a minute.
But first we are going to ask him this: Chuck, have you got everything? Helmet? Pads? Shoes? Good. Because it’s time to go.
ROME — She was all alone coming down the stretch. That’s because everyone else in the race had finished. Some were already back at the hotel, eating dinner.
Ha! No. Only kidding there. But she was last, all right. By a lot. These were the World Track and Field Championships. This was an opening heat of the 1,500 meters — four times around the track — and she was with the leaders at the end of the third lap. Their third lap. She was still on her second.
“I heard them coming,” says Georgiana Tomisato, “and then, they lapped me. They were going so fast!”
TO: SPORTS EDITOR
FROM: THE CORRESPONDENT IN ROME RE: WHY THE CORRESPONDENT IS IN ROME Boss:
OK. So what am I doing here? It’s a fair question. And I promise to answer it. In a second. First, I have to tell you this story:
The Live Albom:
Let’s see. Alan Trammell had a hitting streak of 22 games; the day I wrote about him, it ended. Paul Molitor had a hitting streak of 39 games; the day I wrote about him, it ended. Hmmm.
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