It wasn't so long ago that a teenage girl who wished she were prettier would parade in front of a mirror in her older sister's clothes. And in time, she'd be called downstairs for supper.It wasn't so long ago that a teenage boy, wishing he were tougher, would do push-ups on his bedroom floor or mimic a movie poster on his wall. And in time, he'd be called downstairs for supper.You'll notice a similarity in those fantasies: They began and ended inside the teenager's imagination.Those days are gone.
FIRST OF TWO PARTSOn Friday, Joey Harrington woke up a Detroit Lion and went to bed a Miami Dolphin. After four tumultuous years, his first NFL home was behind him.Now we were on the phone. It was late. Harrington was in Idaho for his brother Michael's graduation. The reality of the trade, which he had wanted and waited for, was finally sinking in.
With news stories - as with life - there is the news and then there's the story.A year ago, I wrote a column about a series of e-mails from a couple in Grand Rapids. Their names are Brian and Kathy. I described them as "beautiful people, energetic and upbeat." They still are.Their e-mails were about their newborn daughter, Faith, who'd suffered a stroke in the womb - something I didn't know was possible. Each new update was heartbreaking. She was such an angel. Yet her wings were so clipped. Her face was so small. Yet her head needed surgery.
This is why basketball isn't hockey. Because the No. 1 seed really is better than the No. 8 seed. Because while major upsets are possible, they are not expected. Because the game doesn't hinge on one suddenly hot goalie, but on a team that puts it together as a team - and puts the lesser team away.
First of all, no more 1 o'clock games on Sunday, OK? Both teams looked half asleep when it started. There's a reason they call it "Hockey Night" in Canada, not "Hockey Brunch." You don't play the game with a bagel and a Sunday paper. Secondly, no more talk about the "new" NHL. So far in this Red Wings-Oilers series, it's the NHL playoffs as it always has been the NHL playoffs: funny-looking goals, trap defenses and a goalie you barely heard of suddenly becoming the story.
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.
