by Mitch Albom | Mar 22, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
KANSAS CITY, Mo. — Who lost?
How could anyone lose in this? This was a classic. A battle of guts. All right, so Michigan State comes home today, their NCAA tournament over two wins shy of the Final Four.
Don’t look for tears here. This was more of a Spartans’ victory than a lot of victories, this 96-86 loss to Kansas. For this was a night when the team that drew its life’s blood from a jut-jawed young man named Scott Skiles, suddenly found itself without him for seven minutes that could have killed the Spartans. They didn’t shrivel. They didn’t bleed. They didn’t die.
by Mitch Albom | Mar 21, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
KANSAS CITY — I am confused. I am seeing strange colors. I am walking through the hotel where the team is staying, the team with the big NCAA tournament game tonight. The team that will win. The team from my state.”When did Michigan change to green and...
by Mitch Albom | Mar 21, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
KANSAS CITY, Mo. — There are posters and banners and people slapping high-fives. I am walking through the hotel lobby where the team is staying. You know which team. The team with the big NCAA tournament game tonight. The team we all knew would do it. The team...
by Mitch Albom | Mar 20, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
POMPANO BEACH, Fla. — Sooner or later in this business you start making excuses for athletes. They spit at you, they mumble into a microphone, they stick little spoons up their noses and tell you to bleep off when you ask about it. So you tell yourself lies....
by Mitch Albom | Mar 19, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
TAMPA, Fla. — There is a man. He does exist. A man who makes trends meet. A man for all reasons. A man who tickles the fancy of nearly every type of sports fan in this scattershot country, and that’s a lot of tickling. There is a man. There is Kirby Puckett.
Kirby Puckett?
by Mitch Albom | Mar 16, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
DAYTON, Ohio — Throw out your hands. Make two fists. Wave them around over your head and start running backward.
Hey, hey, hey, do the Spartan Shuffle.
Or The Scott Skiles Shuffle, really. But what’s the difference? He is this team, like it or not, and every time he backpedals after a score and does that little “whoopie” step that looks as if he’s punching someone in the face, he is injecting magic into Michigan State, this little basketball team that can-can. And who knows how far it will go?
by Mitch Albom | Mar 14, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
LAKELAND, Fla. — I am too old for this. I have a car in the garage and a life insurance policy and a coat and tie somewhere. I am grown up. But I am standing behind the batting cage in spring training, and that is where it always begins. “Phone call,” someone yells.
“Coming,” I say, but I do not move.
My fingers curl around the metal links. The sun is warm. I am watching the Tigers take batting practice and my eyes are closing and my mind starts to drift. I am too old for this. “You wanna take a try?” I hear the player ask.
“Me?” I say.
by Mitch Albom | Mar 12, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
LAS VEGAS, Nev. — Thomas Hearns was clean. Smooth skin. Not a mark on him. He was talking to a couple of women in tight dresses, and his entourage had a party on its mind. And this was about 30 minutes after his fight.
Marvin Hagler wasn’t so clean. It took him an hour to emerge after his bout, and he wore sunglasses to cover the swollen tissue over his eyes. He moved slowly, everything was beginning to ache, and when someone asked him for an autograph he answered softly: “I can’t do that for you right now. I can’t sign with my hand. How about we just shake instead, OK?”
by Mitch Albom | Mar 11, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
LAS VEGAS — Bulls-eye.
Right in the face. A glove in the kisser. A mash job. Less than two minutes and the guy is out cold and Thomas Hearns, who had more rain water on him than sweat, that’s how easy this thing was, blew a kiss to the crowd and told the world in no uncertain terms that he is not done hitting.
Not by a longshot.
by Mitch Albom | Mar 10, 1986 | Detroit Free Press
LAS VEGAS, Nev. — Thomas Hearns held his hands out and watched impatiently as a trainer unwrapped the tape. Once free, he scampered into the ring and picked up a microphone.”Hello, everybody, how y’all doing?” he asked.The crowd of about 200...
