So I'm going to see Tiger and Phil. Playing together. That's like Elvis and Mick sharing the mike. Tiger and Phil? Together? Against Colin and Padraig? And, here's the best part. I'm walking to the job.I have never walked to the job, not in 20-plus years in this business. But the Ryder Cup, at Oakland Hills Country Club, is just up the road from my home. I breathe the healthy bus fumes as I approach the entrance. "Ahhh, like the old country," I think, as I approach the security gate, "walking to work. Isn't it grand? Isn't it--""You can't bring that in," the guard says.
CHICAGO -- It was as messy as a bachelor party and as ugly as the hangover, but it counted, it's done, and like the groom-to-be crawling home at sunrise, the Lions wear a small smirk on their faces this morning. The streak is over. The curse is dead. The road is no longer lined with poison bricks. The NFL record they never wanted -- three straight years of road defeats -- is someone else's to break now.
Ten years ago, a woman named Bryl Phillips-Taylor went to Washington to support a ban on assault rifles. Her son, Scott, had been killed with one.Last week, she returned for the same reason. Her son was still dead. The bullets had still come from an assault weapon. But there she was again, pleading the same case.
"So, Mitch," I am asked as the NFL season is about to begin. "How do you know you're a Lions fan?"That's easy.You know you're a Lions fan if you expect 5-11, but still kid yourself about 11-5.You know you're a Lions fan if you believe Joey Harrington is "The One" -- but you once said that about Andre Ware.You know you're a Lions fan if you hate Barry Sanders for quitting the team, but deep down, you don't really blame him.
If you think this means the end of rape, forget it.If you think this means the end of gold digging, forget that, too.If you think the sudden vaporizing of the Kobe Bryant trial means young women will no longer wander starry-eyed into hotel rooms of athletes they just met, wake up.And if you think NBA stars will be more careful about the women they cheat with on the road, well, there's some swampland in New Jersey we'd like to sell you.
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.
