Detroit Free Press

NEW YORK -- No. No. A thousand red lights no! New York City hosting the Olympic Games? Who came up with this idea? Someone stuck in a taxi, trying to get across town? Yeah, here's what we need. More . . . people!Somehow, in a runoff that makes Mondale-Coleman look normal, New York was selected as America's official bid for the 2012 Summer Games. The city it beat out was -- and I hope you're sitting down -- San Francisco. Right. Because when it comes to late August, where would you rather be -- alongside a breezy Pacific Ocean or inhaling bus fumes in 90-degree heat?

Tracy McGrady was surrounded by doom. He tried to lose Michael Curry on a screen, but Chauncey Billups slid over. He tried to lose Billups, but Cliff Robinson slid over. He tried to go past Robinson, but here came Curry again, with Ben Wallace on the way, and McGrady fell, grabbed at the ball and, with no other option, looked desperately to the ref and called time out.

The last time baseball was played at Comerica Park, the crowd was on its feet for the final out. Six months later, Thursday afternoon, as shadows fell on a misty Opening Day, the scene repeated itself, with fans once more on their feet as the Tigers left the field.There is only one difference between the ovations, but it is all the difference in the world.The last time was pity. This time was praise.

SYDNEY, Australia -- And with that, we end these 2000 Olympic Games! They were spectacular, weren't they? See you in 2004!Uh, Mitch. Why are you upside down? Funny. I was going to ask you the same thing. Maybe it's being Down Under, where today is yesterday, yesterday is tomorrow, up is down, and how about that Olivia Newton-John?She sings in the opening ceremonies.She sang.What are you talking about?She sang in the opening ceremonies. Those were two weeks ago, mate.Two weeks ago?

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.