This is a college story. A young man named Bobby Madison arrived in Kalamazoo a few years ago. He came to play basketball. He came from Alabama, a small town with an elastic plant and a barbecue joint. He knew nothing of Michigan, except that it was cold. Snow? He'd seen snow. A few times. Near Birmingham. Down there, he says, if it snows three inches "we miss school for five days."He unpacked his bags and waited in the dorm room."Then this tall skinny kid comes in," Madison recalls, "and I said, 'Well, I guess this is my roommate.' "
You know White Castle, right? The hamburger place? Sells those good, greasy "sliders," which are really mini-burgers, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand?Does anyone eat just one of those? No. People buy four. Six. Twelve. Whatever. They eat until they're beyond full. In some cases, they eat more than they would if the burgers were large, because it feels as if you're eating less when the portions are shrunk.
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.
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.