by Mitch Albom | May 30, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
BOSTON — He is the kid with his finger in the dike. The fisherman who hooks a great white shark. The prince with a slingshot who rides off to slay the giant.
He is the man who must cover Larry Bird.
“What do you do to stop him?” someone asked Houston’s Rodney McCray.
“I do my best,” he said, shrugging.
by Mitch Albom | May 29, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
BOSTON — I expect Patty Hearst. I expect Grateful Dead lyrics. I expect pamphlets on Save The Whales and news of the latest rally being organized on campus. “Tonight,” Bill Walton will whisper, “behind the Student Union . . .”I am...
by Mitch Albom | May 27, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
BOSTON — Two points. That’s what was next to his name on the final score sheet. He took 13 shots, he made one. Now the game was over, his team had lost, there was a towel around his waist and a crowd around his locker. He made his way through the crush of...
by Mitch Albom | May 26, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
OK. Time’s up. Sparky Anderson said you can’t tell anything about a baseball team until 40 games have been played. Fine. Sunday was No. 40.
What can we tell about the Tigers?
Well. That depends. You want the optimistic version or the realistic one?
by Mitch Albom | May 25, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
Oh, he’s a knucklehead all right. The Wacky One. Your buddy and mine. Joaquin Andujar.You remember Joaquin from last October, when he single- handedly trashed the World Series, the umpires, and most likely the rest of his career by throwing a tantrum in Game 7?...
by Mitch Albom | May 23, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
No Jack.No beach.No Mercedes-Benz, rolling down Rodeo Drive, big ol’ redhead by my side.No roller skates.No movies.No Lakers.”Did you hear?” they said. “Houston won.””Houston?” I said.In the NBA finals? Against the Boston...
by Mitch Albom | May 21, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
PLYMOUTH, Ind. — It was a church wedding on a spring afternoon, and the couple was posing for snapshots. Scott Skiles watched silently through a window in the building next door. He knew the groom from high school. He wanted to yell out something —...
by Mitch Albom | May 18, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
Reggie turns 40. Well, let’s see. What might the New York tabloids do with that one? MR. OCTOBER HITS HIS SEPTEMBER JAX TO OLD AGE: DROP DEAD! REG SEZ: I’M NOT OLDER, I’M BETTERThat last one might be a bit too tame for the Big Apple. But it rings...
by Mitch Albom | May 18, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
Reggie turns 40. Well, now. Let’s see. What might the New York tabloids do with that one?MR. OCTOBER HITS HIS SEPTEMBER 40 CANDLES FOR A BLOWHARDJAX TO OLD AGE: DROP DEAD!REGGIE: OLDER OR BETTER?That last one might be a bit too tame for the Big Apple. But it...
by Mitch Albom | May 16, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
I am not worrying about the Tigers. I am not losing sleep, or chewing my fingernails. I am not placing a Detroit cap next to a string of garlic to ward off evil spirits. I am calm and cool. “But they’re in sixth place,” my fellow workers say. “How can you not be worried?”
“Worrying never skinned the cat, boys,” I say, leaning back in my chair.
“Huh?” they say.
“Forty games,” I say. “That’s what Sparky Anderson said. Forty games before you can tell anything. And I believe the man.”
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