"Holy Motormouths, Batman!"Jimmy Carson, when asked to describe Shawn BurrHe was 2 years old when he first heard the voices. They came from downstairs. Laughing. Talking. All these wonderful sounds. He had to join them. He pulled himself over his crib and wandered down the steps."Shawn, what are you doing down here?" his parents said. They laughed and apologized to their guests. They carried their baby upstairs. In the crib. Kiss goodnight.Five minutes later, he was back."Shawn, what are you doing out again?"
MINNEAPOLIS -- The elbow flew, it made contact, and suddenly, Chris Webber was Rocky, taking the whack and hitting the deck, as the crowd noise swirled like a jet engine on dope. He was halfway to la-la land, head on the floor, eyes wet with ooze. You could almost hear Burgess Meredith yelling, "Stay down! Stay down!" Jalen Rose leaned over him. Steve Fisher leaned over him. The trainer, Dave Ralston, leaned over him.What do doctors tell you when your nose is broken? 1) Take it easy. 2) Avoid stress. 3) Avoid contact. Above all, avoid contact.
EAST LANSING -- To understand George Perles you must first understand the wall in his office. He points to it constantly. Look. The photos. Those famous men, beaming down at him like destiny. Biggie Munn. Duffy Daugherty. Jack Breslin. His ancestors in the athletic department."People may not believe it," he says, gazing at their faces, "but I did what I did because of those guys."
Great. As if Michael Jordan wasn't enough, now we've got to deal with Bill Murray? That's right. Bill Murray. The actor. The comedian. Mr. Ghostbuster himself . . . A Bulls fan?He told me so. The other day. Said he might just show up at a Detroit-Chicago playoff game, ready to taunt the Pistons. "Maybe I'll wear one of those Bill Laimbeer masks," he said. "You know, I heard Laimbeer never really suffered a cheek injury. He's just having his face lifted. It's true. He's getting redone so he can do TV work when he's finished with basketball."
Barry Sanders has something on his mind. He walks over to Jim Arnold, the punter, and sits on a stool nearby. Arnold is talking to a reporter, but his words grow jumpy as he glances at Sanders just sitting there -- What does he want? Why doesn't he interrupt? -- and finally, Arnold stops talking to the reporter altogether. It is damn near impossible to ignore Barry Sanders, even if he is sitting still."What's up?" Arnold asks."I need a favor from you, man," Sanders says."Name it." Sanders grins, sort of embarrassed. "Nah, really, man," he says.
Remember that disease a few years ago, chronic fatigue syndrome, where people felt exhausted all the time, their heads drooping on their desks, as if -- well, as if they'd just run a marathon and had to go to work?Meet Doug Kurtis.Who just ran a marathon and had to go to work. "That's not unusual for me," says the 41-year-old with the full-time job who has won more marathons than anyone else in history. "One time I ran in Tahiti, took the night flight back, landed the next morning and went straight to the office."
I find my colleague in the basement of the newspaper building. He is hiding in the broom closet. He is trying to burn his typewriter."What are you doing?" I ask."Getting out of the business," he says. "Too dangerous."Dangerous? Sports writing? I have heard it called many things. I have heard it called juvenile, infantile, puerile and silly. I have an uncle who asks, "Do you actually get paid for that, or do they just give you tickets?" But dangerous?"Better get out now," says my colleague. "Before they -- shhh! Did you hear something?"
The doctor said she had two choices: radiate the foot, hope the cancer would die, or cut the foot off and keep the disease from spreading. Beth Hardman looked at her parents. She was 16 years old, a high school student with the smile of an angel, the kind of smile that gets you elected, as she soon would be, Homecoming Princess. And now she had to decide whether to keep a foot. Her Left Foot. They don't make movies about kids like this. Maybe they should."I think we ought to take it off," Beth told the doctor. "Let's set up the appointment."
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.
