ISEE BIG things. I see alley-oops and thunder jams. I see blocks that swoop like the hand of God. I see liftoff from the foul line, astronaut hang time, two-fisted dunks that leave the rim in need of medical attention. I see tip-ins, put-backs, "gimme-that-ball" rebounds, so high he could spray paint his name on the backboard.I see a future of big nights, big numbers.I see Jason Richardson.And he is sitting on the bench.
Aw, shucks. Now that Chris Webber has called another last-minute time-out -- to cut a deal with prosecutors over felony charges -- there goes my chance to be a star witness. Not that I think of myself that way.But Webber's lawyer did.That lawyer, Steve Fishman, told anyone who would listen that I had important information that would prove his client's innocence. He drew up a subpoena. He went to court to get me to testify.He even accused me of hiding from responsibility, as if saving his client's butt was a civic duty.
SYDNEY, Australia -- The Olympics end today. The final medals will be decided. But I'm ready to name my own winners and losers of the past few weeks.By the way, I am a purist.Only gold ...and tin.Olympic Comeback* Gold: To out-of-retirement swimmers Jenny Thompson and Dara Torres. They came. They saw. They delivered.* Tin: To French track diva Marie-Jose Perec. She came. She saw. She ran away.New Olympic Event* Gold: Triathlon. Every time you watch it, you think "grueling."
"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.
LOS ANGELES -- They were three seconds from the top of the castle. Three seconds from a hammerlock on this series. And then Kobe Bryant lifted as high as a man can go without a trampoline, and Richard Hamilton got a hand up but not enough body, and the ball flew toward the hoop with every ounce of Lakers legend spinning a cloud of pixie dust around it. You knew it was going in. You could have closed your eyes and seen it.
WIMBLEDON, England -- "Can you read that?" I ask the woman behind the counter."Let's see," she says, fingering the little pink paper. She squints."My handwriting," I say, "it isn't . . .""Not to worry. I've seen worse."She finally smiles. "OK. How much do you want to wager on . . ." she squints again "...Serena Williams?""How much?" I say. "Uh . . ."
DENVER -- Hollywood is interested. They want a hockey movie. They dispatch a young producer to the Western Conference finals to assemble a cast. He wears sunglasses, a diamond earring, a leather coat and four cell phones.He asks me to help."I hear this Detroit team is loaded with stars," the producer says.It is, I say."Good. Get me the guy without a spleen."I beg your pardon?"The guy without a spleen. Sign him up. The Spleenless Swede. I love it!"You mean Fredrik Olausson, I say?
My family likes to laugh at this: I was 10, and we were on vacation, driving up California's breathtaking northern coast.Every couple of miles, my folks would say, "Ooh, look at the rocks! Look at the ocean! Isn't it beautiful?" And my siblings would clamber to the window for a better peek.I, on the other hand, never looked up. I was lost in comic books."You see that?" my father asked."Mm-hmm," I mumbled.
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.
