For all the mothers whose sons did not kill.For all the mothers whose sons did not steal.For all the mothers whose sons did not plant pipe bombs.For all the mothers whose sons did not rape.For all the mothers whose sons did not poison.For all the mothers whose sons did not abuse.For all the mothers whose sons did not create Internet viruses.For all the mothers whose sons did not need guns.
As the last city in America to have hockey and basketball teams in the playoffs, we in Detroit have a unique problem.It can all get so confusing. Slam dunks on Tuesdays? Slap shots on Wednesdays? Or is it the other way around?What channel are we on?Which round is it?How do we know which sport we're watching?There are many differences between the NBA and the NHL, not the least of which is you've never seen hockey players' knees.
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.
Their engine, Jerry Stackhouse, was sputtering badly, so the Pistons tried everything under the hood. They jumped the battery, they tweaked the carburetor, they threw the fuses. Finally, they got out and pushed. There is more than one way to win a playoff series, and when pretty doesn't work, go ugly if you have to, but get there.
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.
