The only problem with a perfect world is so few of us want to give up anything to have one.In a perfect world, black students would be admitted to the University of Michigan under the same standards as whites. I think everyone agrees on that.And in a perfect world, white students would not have to give up their spots.And there's the rub, the yin and yang of a lawsuit filed last week by Jennifer Gratz and Patrick Hamacher.
ST. LOUIS -- He threw it like a man who believed things can fly -- balls, dreams, even underdog teams. Mateen Cleaves, a one-time quarterback, cranked his arm and heaved the ball almost the length of the floor. It soared over the heads of all those celebrated Kentucky players, who raced desperately to reach it before Cleaves' teammate, Andre Hutson.
Looking out the window, the first thing Jerry Seinfeld noticed was a little man running down the tarmac."De plane! De plane!" the little man yelled."Hey," Kramer said, "isn't that Tattoo from 'Fantasy Island?' ""Yeah, the midget!" said George.He looked at Jerry and smiled."Not that there's anything wrong with that!" they said in unison.They stopped and listened. Strange. No laughter. Not even a chuckle."What gives?" said Elaine. "That line always gets a laugh."
Grant Hill had a decision to make. Quickly now, before he answers. Mr. Jordan? Michael? Mike? He was sitting in his car, with the cellular phone set on speaker, because his buddies were cramped in there with him, hoping to hear the famous man's voice. Hurry up. What should Hill call him? Mikey? Mr. Mike? Your Highness?"Hello?""Hello . . . MJ . . . it's Grant Hill."MJ? He called him MJ?"Well, yeah," Hill laughs now. "At least I didn't say 'It's GH.' "
When you take a few months off and then come back to work -- as I do today -- it's comforting to know that certain things remain the same.Barry Sanders giveth . . ....and Scott Mitchell giveth away.That old song was sung again Sunday afternoon at the Silverdome, where it was hot enough to faint, and, thanks to Mitchell, understandable if you did. Here was Sanders scoring three touchdowns, racking up 229 yards of brilliant offense, and leaving the highlight people scrambling for film.And here was Mitchell handing the game over.Not once, but twice.
SEATTLE -- Anyone from North Carolina, Arkansas, Oklahoma or California can skip this column. Save your strength. As fans with teams in this year's Final Four, you already know whom you are rooting for. Besides, you have no time to read. If you are truly the robust, manly, college basketball fanatics America is so proud of, you are busy throwing up in a beer can.No. This is for the masses left behind. The fans whose schools were knocked out early in the tournament. (Did I say Michigan? Did I say Michigan State? I didn't say that! Did I say that?)
Good news from the Home Opener! We saw some impressive arms down at Tiger Stadium!Unfortunately, they were all throwing toilet paper.And pizza boxes. And little plastic magnets. And, oh yes, beach balls. There were, according to one unofficial count, 22 beach balls tossed onto the field in the first inning alone. They bounced around, the game was stopped, security workers scooped them up, and the bleacher crowd roared.Only in the '90s could beach balls become social protest.
She would not cry. She held back the tears as tightly as she once held her first basketball, cradling it all day, sleeping with it all night. Never mind this scary hospital, these sterile walls, these lousy blood tests; never mind what the doctor was telling her now, that she could die if she didn't have a bone-marrow transplant. She could die? But she was only 18! Never mind. Nekita Burnett, a college player the size of an eighth-grader, was used to laughing, clowning, cracking people up; she never was very good with the sad stuff.
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.
