WIMBLEDON, England -- I whiz into customs on my skateboard, the Walkman blaring in my ears. "Your destination, sir?" asks the customs man."Wimbledon," I say.I open my suitcase filled with stuffed giraffes and fuzzy teddy bears. I unzip the bag containing 14 copies of the New Kids on the Block album, and the latest issues of Tiger Beat magazine."Where did you say you were going, sir?" the agent asks again.I repeat, 'Wimbledon."
We are one-eighth of the way through the NFL season. Therefore it is time for a mini-quiz to see how many of you are really watching, and how many of you are just playing Pigskin Payoff. Ready?1. Which of the following players is still holding out?A. Keith Jackson.B. Janet Jackson.C. Eric Dickerson, sort of.2. Who is the starting quarterback for the Green Bay Packers?A. Anthony Dilweg.B. Anthony Michael Hall.C. Anthony Who?3. How much better are the 49ers than everybody else?A. A whole lot better.
JACKSONVILLE, Fla. -- If I had a dog -- which I do, but I mean if I had a dog with me, right now, down here -- I would say to him, "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore." Or rather, "Toto, we're not at the Rose Bowl anymore." That's assuming his name was Toto, of course. And that he remembered the Rose Bowl. I remember the Rose Bowl. In fact, this morning I remember the Rose Bowl the way I remember my first girlfriend. I miss it desperately. I want it back in my arms.
A few years ago, I met a great guy. He was warm and good-natured. He told funny stories. We hit it off immediately, which was good, since he was going to marry my sister.And since the wedding, they have been blissfully happy. They gave the family a baby this year, a little boy. Last week, at Thanksgiving, we made fools of ourselves gurgling in baby talk.
Chris Spielman dropped into his stance, set his jaw and snorted. He waited for the snap. Then he sprang forward -- and threw a block.A block?For the running Barry Sanders?Chris Spielman? Fullback?This was all you needed to know about the stunning event called the season opener at the Silverdome on Sunday: the Lions' defense was everywhere -- including its own backfield.
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.
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.
