AT 18,000 FEET, EVEN A CAST CAN’T KEEP GIBSON DOWN
This was where Kirk Gibson belonged. Up in the clouds, 18,000 feet high, looking out through an airplane window at the land masses below.”That’s Niagara Falls, I bet,” he said, leaning over for a better view. “Yeah. And out there. See that...
What Game? All Detroit Saw Was Gibson’S Pain
BOSTON — He went down on the simplest of plays, a scurry back to first base. But there was a twist to his leg that was unnatural. And the way he hit the ground, like a ribbon wiggling into the dirt. That was unnatural. And the look on his face when he rolled over and grabbed his ankle. That was unnatural too.
That was agony. That was pain. And everyone knows Kirk Gibson doesn’t show pain unless it’s absolutely killing him.
“Uh-oh,” someone said.
“Wooh, boy,” someone added.
Ghosts Of Marathons Past Had The Last Screech In ’86
BOSTON — He was running alone before it was halfway over. No one breathing down his neck. No footsteps to worry about. The other 4,738 runners in the Boston Marathon were all behind Rob de Castella, way behind him. So for the last hour of the race, right to the finish line, his only companions were the police motorcycles and the press truck. It was a sterile victory. But then, the whole thing was sterile, wasn’t it?
A GUIDE TO MARATHONING — SHOULD YOU GO INSANE
BOSTON — Every spring they run the Boston Marathon, and every spring, thousands of seemingly normal Americans sit by their TV sets and say, “You know, I should try that.”One can only assume this is some mysterious disease and that we will soon have a...
ISIAH TRIES TO PUT HIS AILMENT OUT OF HIS MIND
ATLANTA — He didn’t want to see the blood. The playoff game was just minutes away, his teammates were all around him in the locker room, and he felt the burning sensation like a match inside his belly. It was the worst time it could happen. But it was...
Daly Waits, Paces — And Hopes He Won’T See Red
ATLANTA — The coach wakes up before the alarm clock. He rubs his eyes. It’s another hotel room ceiling, and his very first thoughts are: “Where are we? Who are we playing?”
It’s like this every morning on the road. But this is a big morning, the morning of the opening playoff game for his Detroit Pistons. The NBA playoffs are a reward of sorts — the reason you endure seven months of coffee-and-heartburn breakfasts in Indianapolis and Cleveland and Houston. The games will be won or lost by the athletes. But the coach is the first one up.
YOU NEED REFINED TASTE TO ENJOY NBA PLAYOFFS
Here we go. NBA playoff time. And immediately, the questions.
“Will these be any better than last year?”
No. Probabaly not.
“Does anybody other than Boston and Los Angeles have a chance to make it to the finals?”
No. Probably not.
“Why, then, should I vegetate in front of the TV set for 50 hours in the next four weeks, when I could be doing something constructive?”
EVERY DAY AN EXPERIMENT FOR SPARKY AND SPUNKY
CLEVELAND — It wasn’t exactly a call to glory. Then, again, who knows? The Tigers were trotting onto the field for practice when that gravelly voice shattered the cold, mid-morning air.”Darnell! . . . DAR-NELL!”Darnell Coles turned around to...
Jack Morris In Trouble?Just Parrish The Thought
CLEVELAND — I don’t know whether to call it the year or the week, because the 1986 baseball season can be referred to as either one today. But so far this year, or this week, the home run ball is taking a big chunk out of Jack Morris.
It happened again Saturday. Morris surrendered a two-run homer in the first inning, pitched masterfully the next six, then gave up another two-run shot and exited. The game was soon lost, 6-2, to the Indians. The Indians? And this time, Morris’ name went next to the sad result.
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