Detroit Free Press

Ilove the Ten Commandments. I can recite them. I don't always succeed in obeying them, but I still try, and I think the world would be better if we all did.Having said that, I can still say this: The Ten Commandments do not belong in a state courthouse. But last week, in Montgomery, Ala., they arrived in a big way.In the still of the night, a 2 1/2-ton monument featuring the Ten Commandments was trucked in and positioned in the rotunda of the state's judicial building. The building is home to, among other things, the Alabama State Supreme Court.

MITCH ALBOMEAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. -- The final buzzer sounded, and the Pistons hugged in the eerie silence of a disappointed crowd. Or maybe it wasn't hugging. Maybe, after what they had done -- enduring those swelling and dwindling leads, snaring an exhausting victory, saving themselves from the fires of elimination -- maybe they were just holding each other up."If there was ever a doubt about this team's heart," Joe Dumars, the Pistons' president, said when this was over, "they answered it tonight. They never gave up."Dumars looked tired. And he didn't even play.

That was no accident, folks. That last desperate play of Sunday's Game 1, in which the Pistons tried an alley-oop pass with 1.4 seconds left -- a damn hard thing to do, even with veterans -- was drawn up to go from Tayshaun Prince to Mehmet Okur.Rookie to rookie.And it almost worked."Yeah," Rick Carlisle said Monday, when I asked whether he realized he'd put the game in the hands of two players who had yet to see their 24th birthdays. "That was what we called. I'm not interested in how old they are at that point. I'm looking for who can get the job done."

Ifinally figured out the appeal of Trista Rehn, a.k.a. "The Bachelorette."She's a guy.Oh, I don't mean physically. I mean the way she plays the game. First, she gets the ultimate guy fantasy -- a couple of dozen cuties all trying to win her affection.Then, one by one, she tries and discards them, just like a guy. And when she narrows it down to two, she tells one partner, "Don't be upset if I sleep with the other one."And the partner says OK!Are you kidding? This woman would be King of the Frat House!

MITCH ALBOM All night long they had been trying to snare the only thing that mattered, a lead. They never had it. At one point, it was as far off as a ship on the horizon. Slowly, they swam in, clipping away, a point here, a basket there, until finally, finally, in the fourth quarter, they reached sea level. A tie at 54 points. A tie at 57. A tie at 59. A Chauncey Billups three-pointer. A Ben Wallace turnaround. A Tayshaun Prince block. Whatever was in the arsenal, it was coming out now. Richard Hamilton took a forearm to the face, hit the deck, got up and made two free throws.

First come the words: "SPECIAL REPORT."Then comes a TV anchor, pushing on a small earpiece, breathlessly informing you there has been another shooting in a high school.Next comes a map. It shows where the high school is located.Then the aerial view, from a helicopter.Next comes a voice, from a local TV affiliate: "Our initial reports are sketchy, but there has apparently been a shooting in the school ...at least three people are believed hit ...we do not know the shooter's identity . . ."Next come the camera shots.Images of kids running away.

At first, when I heard the latest "pampered golfer" incident -- that Davis Love III threatened to stop playing last Sunday unless an unruly fan was ejected -- I wasn't going to comment. This is not a new issue. Golfers love their silence. They treat it as a birthright. The fact that other major sports play in loud, raucous environments means nothing to them. Golf is "special." Fine. Whatever.But then I saw the comments from Tim Finchem, the PGA Tour chief. He sympathized with Love's plight, and agreed that something needed to be done."This isn't hockey," Finchem said.