WASHINGTON -- The day began to die on the second play from scrimmage, when Erik Kramer was smothered and the ball squirted loose and the Redskins picked it up as if lifting a penny off the sidewalk. You knew then, somewhere in your stomach, that the theme of this chilly championship game would be simple and sad: The dream ends here.
Maybe you see God. Maybe that's the sensation football players whisper about, after a crunching hit coughs the life from their bodies and they collapse like puppets into the turf. Maybe it's a religious thing, the gates of heaven swinging open, your maker taking a fleeting look, ready to call you home.
Mike Peplowski deserved better than this. He had the scars, and he put in the years. No way a Spartan like him should have to exit the greatest rivalry of his college career on the short end, while two young Wolverine players, Ray Jackson and Chris Webber, danced on the scorer's table, shaking their hips and leading the crowd in a wave. Peplowski looked down. He kept walking.
When Bill Bonds arrives with three cameras -- one of them always pointed at himself -- and asks a million questions so he can look good on the local news, that's not journalism. It's theater.When Bo Schembechler bangs his fist on the podium and says "NO!" to this, "NO!" to that, and insists he is doing it "for the fans," that's not negotiating. It's theater.When Ed McNamara drops his jowls and looks deadly serious and says, "This is all part of a plot for the Tigers to move out of Michigan," that's not informed knowledge. It's theater.
NEWS ITEM: Pitcher Mitch Williams, distraught over the World Series and death threats from Phillies fans, did not join the team when it returned from Toronto. Some say we never will see him in a Phillies uniform again. His whereabouts are unknown.The year: 2018. Date: Oct. 26. Ship's log, somewhere in the South Pacific.A bad storm hit last night. The ship crashed against the rocks. I washed up on this uncharted desert island.
MINNEAPOLIS -- At the risk of being rude, I think it's time the AFC took its marbles and went home. This is not its game, this Super Bowl thing. The AFC has about as much fun here as the guy in the sponge toss who gets dropped in the water. Splash! Down goes this year's AFC sacrifice, the Buffalo Bills, in embarrassing fashion, 37-24, to the Washington Redskins. Don't let Sunday's final score fool you. Here was another Super Bowl so lopsided that Washington was ready to dump Gatorade on coach Joe Gibbs -- at halftime.
PORTLAND, Ore. -- Vinnie Johnson had the microphone. Isiah Thomas was next to him on stage, with his own microphone. Now and then he would sing a couple of words and Vinnie would sing, too. The band, watching, hooted its approval. Now Vinnie wanted Joe. "WHERE'S BROADWAY?" he bellowed to the raucous crowd. "WHERE'S BROADWAY JOE?"Joe Dumars sat at a back table and dipped his head. Shy by nature, he didn't relish stepping onto the stage in front of all these people. His wife, Debbie, nudged him. He shook her off. But Vinnie would not give up.
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.
