It was a good night for faces at the ballpark. You can start with Kenny Rogers. When he pitches, his jaw is as tight as a steel girder. Tuesday night, that jaw was also thick with whiskers and the whiskers were coated in silvery resolve. "The guys tell me the worse I look the better I pitch," he would say of the unshaven look. "But the more I grow it, the more it shows the gray."
DAY 16: Bruce Jenner, ha!BEIJING - They finished the Olympic decathlon Friday, opening with the 100 meters, then the long jump, then yada, yada, yada. I had my own decathlon to run. Before leaving Beijing, there were 10 events I needed in order to complete my experience. I woke up early. I pulled on my USA jersey. And I plunged into
DAY 15: Talkin' the talk, walkin' the walk.BEIJING -"Ma," I say."Mother," she says."Ma," I say, my voice rising."Linen," she says."Ma-a," I say."A horse.""Ma!" I declare."Fight," she says.One word. Four meanings. The only difference is a tone change. You could, with the slightest wrong inflection, ask your mother what she wants for Horse Day. Or tell Mr. Ed you want to punch him in the snout. Oh, and if you put "ma" at the end of sentence? It turns it into a question.You following-ma?
He had a head full of shaving cream and a smile that could light up a stadium - if he hadn't already done it an hour earlier. Jair Jurrjens may look, on paper, like the name of a Dutch hand lotion, but this kid with a string of shells around his neck just threw his first major-league victory, gave up one hit in nearly seven innings, and, for one night, anyhow, had Tigers fans laughing and saying: "Pitching problem? What pitching problem?""Who covered you in shaving cream?" Jurrjens was asked."Todd Jones," he said, grinning."What does it mean?"
DAY 14: The Green Flash.BEIJING - Oh, mon, it was a party! Bang the steel drums! Yams for one and all! Anybody in a green "Jamaica" shirt was being swarmed for interviews. We didn't even know who they were. "We're proud to be Jamaicans!" a middle-aged woman declared. "We are the sprint factory of the world!""Is that his mother?" a reporter whispered."He can go faster! You won't see nobody like him for another 50 years!" insisted a middle-aged man."Is that his coach?" a reporter whispered.
In sports, it's good to be original. The first to dunk. The first to throw a knuckleball. The only time you don't want to be original is when it comes to bad behavior.Michael Vick is finding this out. Using drugs? Sexual assault? DUI? Waving a gun? As pathetic as it seems, those offenses no longer shock in the privileged world of professional sports.
Like a lot of people, I admire Brian Wilson, the soul of the Beach Boys. Over the years, I've had chances to speak with him. When he releases a new CD or comes through town, we'll do an interview. We did one just recently, for radio. Now, I know Wilson's music backward. I have memorized the lush harmonies of "In My Room," the ahead-of-its-time variations of "Good Vibrations," the seemingly million things that are going on in the background of "Wouldn't It Be Nice." Armed with such loving research, I figured I could draw something new and special out of Wilson. I was wrong.
As soon as the Tigers wake up this morning, they should go to their calendars and rip out the current page that reads "August."It's September now.Oh, maybe not by the moon and the stars, but by the little white ball that measures the season. "September" is really a frame of mind in baseball. It means crunch time, the shedding of the fat, every game and inning with consequence for the playoffs.
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.
