by Mitch Albom | May 12, 1987 | Detroit Free Press
They left for the airport with the city waving goodby like a war bride. Would the Red Wings be back? Would there be a Game 6? Would this love affair between a motor town and a little-engine- that-could end on a Canadian battleground, thousands of miles away? Could that happen?
“No! Come back!” the crowd at Joe Louis Arena seemed to scream Monday night, as the Wings fell to the Oilers, 3-2, their third loss in this best-of-seven Campbell Conference final. “Whatever you do, make sure you come home alive!”
by Mitch Albom | May 11, 1987 | Detroit Free Press
They are a like a Fourth of July sparkler down to its final seconds of flame. Where are the Atlanta Hawks now? Where is the team that stepped on everybody in the final month of the regular season? Where is the slam-jam, the midair excellence of Dominique Wilkins, the mile-a-minute breaks that left opponents with their mouths open?
by Mitch Albom | May 10, 1987 | Detroit Free Press
People come from near and far to see Wayne Gretzky play hockey. But I am not impressed. I once flew 4,000 miles for 15 minutes with the man.That is not something I do often. Not for athletes, anyhow. Usually, when you travel that far to interview an athlete, you lose...
by Mitch Albom | May 9, 1987 | Detroit Free Press
It was as if he’d traded his halo for an eye patch and a pair of brass knuckles. Was that Isiah Thomas? Sweet Isiah Thomas? Detroit’s precious chunk of the big rock candy mountain? That Isiah Thomas? Running down court and waving a fist and pushing his chest into Atlanta opponents and hollering “YOU CAN’T WIN! YOU’RE IN MY HOUSE NOW!”
“Tell him, Isiah!” screamed a fan.
“Show him who’s boss!” added another.
by Mitch Albom | May 9, 1987 | Detroit Free Press
EDMONTON, Alberta — Sometimes it comes down to the last minute. And sometimes the first minute is enough. Before 60 seconds were gone in Thursday’s bloody playoff game between the Red Wings and the Oilers, four players were in the penalty box, all the...
by Mitch Albom | May 8, 1987 | Detroit Free Press
EDMONTON, Alberta — Sometimes it comes down to the last minute. And sometimes the first minute is enough. Before 60 seconds were gone in Thursday’s bloody playoff game between the Red Wings and the Oilers, four players were in the penalty box, all the...
by Mitch Albom | May 7, 1987 | Detroit Free Press
EDMONTON — The word we are looking for is not “experienced,” although he is experienced. It is not “veteran,” although, in hockey, you are a veteran at 32. If you can still walk. But no. The word we are looking for is neither
“veteran” nor “experienced,” nor “ripe,” nor “graybeard,” nor “grandpappy” . .
.
Uncle?
Well. Yes. That word fits him nicely. If the Detroit Red Wings — in the Stanley Cup semifinals and suddenly the hottest story in sports — were cast as a big, happy, gap-toothed family, then Mel Bridgman would be the uncle.
Uncle Mel.
by Mitch Albom | May 6, 1987 | Detroit Free Press
EDMONTON, Alberta — “Hey, how does this machine work?” Greg Stefan hollered. He was with several teammates inside a subway station. They were heading to a morning practice at Northlands Coliseum. But the ticket box kept spitting back Stefan’s quarters.
“Drop them a little slower,” suggested Mel Bridgman. “Like this. See? Give it a chance to settle, and it works.”
Stefan let the coins drop more slowly. And out came his ticket. He grabbed it, marched ahead to his teammates, and fell into their pace.
by Mitch Albom | May 6, 1987 | Detroit Free Press
EDMONTON, Alberta — “Hey, how does this machine work?” Greg Stefan hollered. He was with several teammates inside a subway station. They were heading to a morning practice at Northlands Coliseum. But the ticket box kept spitting back Stefan’s quarters.
“Drop them a little slower,” suggested Mel Bridgman. “Like this. See? Give it a chance to settle, and it works.”
Stefan let the coins drop more slowly. And out came his ticket. He grabbed it, marched ahead to his teammates, and fell into their pace.
by Mitch Albom | May 6, 1987 | Detroit Free Press
EDMONTON, Alberta — If you thought the Red Wings would come out here and die, go splat, give up . . . If you thought the Red Wings would be intimidated by the aura of Edmonton, by the tradition, by the name, by the championship banners hanging from the ceiling ....
