DALLAS -- Here we are, standing by the window, craning our necks. A Korean couple in matching red sweatshirts, a middle-age woman with curly hair the color of breakfast cereal. A college student, with long blue shorts and a sweatshirt that reaches his thighs.We are all wearing headphones, attached to portable cassette recorders, listening to a tour guide voice say, "Look out the window now, and you will see Dealey Plaza. This is the where the presidential motorcade turned . . ."
Steve Yzerman wanted to break something. He paced the locker room, while his sweat-drenched teammates slumped on their chairs, reeling from the evening's defeat. Yzerman grabbed a glass and moved to a private area behind the showers. Now he was alone. He cocked the glass like a baseball pitcher -- "Throw it! Vent your anger!" the voices sang in his head -- and he was about to smash it into a thousand pieces, when, suddenly, another voice inside whispered, "What good will that do? It won't change things."And he froze.
OK, I admit it. I watched the entire Michael Jackson interview. And I liked it. I especially liked when the security alarm went off, and they had to rush to a commercial, and when they came back, Elizabeth Taylor was waddling out of the kitchen, looking guilty, with powdered sugar on her lips.But I did have one problem. With the questions. I felt Oprah Winfrey -- who is fine on such major issues as "Women Who Date Their Daughter's Gym Teachers" -- blew her chance with the world's No. 1 Other From Another Planet. She was way too soft.
It's that time of year again. My car knows the way. Every spring, one of the two big schools from Michigan advances to the Sweet 16 round of the NCAA tournament. And I am dispatched to cover the event."First we visit the campus," I say, "then we check out the student spirit --""I know, I know," the car says, wearily, "just tell me which school."
If today were 100 years ago, we would have duels wherever you looked, people turning their backs, walking 10 paces and shooting each other. One would wear maize 'n' blue, the other blue and gold. Of course, the maize and blue would be better shots . . . OK. I say that because I live here. And here is Michigan. No doubt, at this very moment, some columnist in South Bend is writing a crack aboutU-M, assuming he has learned how to write.
* DETROIT 20, CHICAGO 10: Everything the Bears did to the Lions a few weeks ago, the Lions do back today. You wanted something to be thankful for on Thanksgiving? You got it.* DALLAS 28, PITTSBURGH 17: Cheer up, Troy. One of these years you'll actually finish the season.
Riiiiing!"Hello?""Hello, Chuck Daly? Terry O'Neill from NBC.""Hi, Terry.""Just calling to see where we stand. You know we want you as our TV analyst. You and Pat Riley? Together? Awesome, babe. Big money. And we can make sure you guys never wear the same suit, don't worry about that.""Thanks, Terry, I haven't decided yet.""I'll call back. Think peacock, Chuck."Click. Riiiiing!"Hello?""Hello. Chuck? Harold from Philadelphia. Let's get down to brass tacks. We want you. You want us. The GM job is open. What's it gonna take?"
So when does hockey season start?If that was the last best playoff chance for our football team -- and some people think it was -- we might as well get real, grab our coats, shut the photo album. Not that Sunday afternoon's finish was much to remember: Rodney Peete, chased like a criminal, sacked like potatoes. Willie Green, diving in the turf for a ball that was 10 feet away. The crowd leaving, booing, as Scott Conover, an offensive lineman, is called for yet another Detroit false start . . .False start?
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.
