Both sides need to take Sarah Palin out of the box.The Democrats and certain media members began packaging this woman the moment she hit the national stage. They labeled her a hunting mama. Bill Maher called her "a stewardess." Maureen Dowd likened her to Eliza Doolittle of "My Fair Lady."All of that is unfair and, for her critics, self-defeating. Nobody fits so easily into a box. Yes, Palin knows how to shoot a gun. But suggesting she'll skin a moose on the White House lawn only makes you look stupid.
You are a man in a storm. The storm is rising, blowing your way. Your neighbor, Earl, is saying, "Come on, man, we can go to Detroit. We'll be safe there."Detroit, you think? You live in New Orleans. You're not going to Detroit. Besides, you've seen hurricanes before. Water comes up. Water goes down.But your wife, this time, she's worried. Earl is going crazy on Detroit. He says, "I'm gonna empty the washers and dryers" and next thing you know he has a big bag of quarters and guess what? That's your gas money.
Since this is a new season, let's try a new approach."All we did," said quarterback Jon Kitna after the Lions' 9-6 defeat in Sunday's season opener, "is take the pressure off ourselves today of having to try to go undefeated."Ba-dum-bump.Uh ... he was joking.But there's something you haven't heard in a while. And here are some things you hadn't seen in a while: passes that were strong and on target. A defensive line that swarmed the quarterback. Two blocked field goals. A first-round draft pick who actually dressed for the game.
A half-hour before kickoff, a heavyset man in a T-shirt walked down the Ford Field steps, holding hands with his 8-year-old son. They were wide-eyed at the sight of the gathering crowd, so many clad in blue and silver.The Lions were not their football team, but they were today. Sterling Adams and his son, Eric, had escaped the floodwaters of Hurricane Katrina, had driven up in a stuffed vehicle from New Orleans, and now, thanks to the kindness of the Lions' public relations staff, father and son had tickets for the opener. The long wait for a day of fun was over.
But enough about the quarterback. Let's talk about the running back. We spend so much time in Detroit on who's taking snaps, we forget that our biggest stars have been the men who take handoffs: Billy Sims, Barry Sanders.And now Kevin Jones?"Yeah, I thought about that my rookie year," says Jones, 24. "There's a tradition here I want to be a part of. But last year wasn't a big indication of it."
Tomorrow, we remember. But today, we lament.Tomorrow, Sept. 11 - the five-year anniversary - we see the deluge of grizzly images, we hear speeches from politicians, we make vows to avenge those who perished, we make grim promises to fight on in the war on terror.But today is just as sad an anniversary. Today, in some ways, aches even more. If Sept. 11 was the day we never saw coming, Sept. 10 was the day we will never see again.And we miss it terribly.We miss when you could pull up at an airport without bracing for a military exercise.
OAKLAND, Calif. - Calvin Johnson took his place on the line, broke free on the snap and was open over the middle. Jon Kitna found him with a pass, Johnson cradled it in, took a few long strides with those two long legs and dove into paydirt. It was his first touchdown in his first game on the first week of the season, and he got up and ran excitedly through the end zone. In his exuberance, the youngest player on the Lions forgot about the ball. But Roy Williams, his fellow receiver, handed it to him as a souvenir.
So after all that, it falls back on Joey Harrington anyhow. All the Sturm und Drang about Jeff Garcia, riding into town, eyeing Joey's job, with his Pro Bowl history and his proud declaration that he was not coming to be a backup and here we are, two days from the season opener, and Garcia was right, he is not a backup, he's a scratch. The backup is now an untested kid barely out of college. And the offense, the season - and, let's face it, the national face of the Detroit Lions - is once again perched on the shoulders of Your Pal Joey, old No. 3. This is your quarterback, folks.
Mitch Albom writes about running an orphanage in impoverished Port-au-Prince, Haiti, his kids, their hardships, laughs and challenges, and the life lessons he’s learned there every day.
