From those dirty summers in downtown Los Angeles, when he unloaded watermelons from a supermarket truck, now to this: Gray pinstripe suit. Wife in a fur coat. A contract worth $36 million to play a game many would play for free. And you know the thing that made the biggest impression on Cecil Fielder as he sat before the lights and microphones in the Detroit Tigers' conference room? This is what made the biggest impression:Somebody wants me.
BARCELONA -- In the old, bloody days, when his was the only sport worth talking about in this country, the young man's courage would make him a hero. Kings would applaud. Senoritas would throw roses into the ring.
HUNTINGTON BEACH, Calif. -- The helmet will not go easily. He has had it since arriving at Michigan, five years, five autumns, same helmet, same face mask. Every spring he would hand it to the equipment man for safe-keeping, and every fall he would make sure to get it back. Once, after a practice in his junior year, an excited fan tried to grab his chin strap, yank it off as he ran past. Elvis Grbac made the save."It was down to its last snap," he says, clearly relieved. "I got it just in time."
Let's talk about terrorism. Not the kind that puts bombs under car hoods; that is terrorism we associate with foreign countries. No. Let's talk about a terrorism that is taking place right here, right now, in the heartland of America.Kansas.Wichita, to be exact. In the past four weeks, Wichita has become a battleground. The jails are stuffed. A judge requires 24-hour police protection. And workers inside an abortion clinic stay days at a time, sleeping on cots, afraid if they leave they will not be allowed back in.
I don't usually go to bat for professional athletes. I figure they are strong enough, rich enough or lucky enough to take care of themselves. But once in awhile, an athlete comes along and hits a tough spot and, well, I don't know. Something stirs inside you.
TORONTO -- In the fifth inning of this city's last baseball game of the year, a fan jumped the fence, ran to centerfield and pulled down his pants. The fans roared. This way, they got to see a moon and stars in a single evening.
Well now, wasn't that a fun little NFL draft? The No. 1 pick bolted to Canada, the No. 6 pick never went to college, and Todd Marinovich went in the first round to the LA Raiders, where his cocaine possession charge will be laughed at as kid stuff.Wait. Did I mention the Lions? Amazing. They went into Sunday with one first-round pick and came out with two. They needed a receiver and a defensivelineman -- and they got a receiver and a defensive lineman. I am not prepared for this. I must take a Maalox and sit down.
At the moment of truth, he ran away, avoided the tackle, as if there were some end zone he could reach and be safe -- safe from the handcuffs, the police, the cameras, the courts, the blood of the victims they say he killed, maybe even safe from the death penalty. The police were right behind him, 11 squad cars, like an opposing football team, and they chased patiently along the Southern California highway, even as spectators stopped their cars, some waving signs saying "GO JUICE." This is what the man who dashed through airports had become. O.J.
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.
