Here we go again. That splash you just heard was the Lions and their fans jumping back into the murky waters of a quarterback controversy. No matter which side you take in Wednesday's bombshell announcement by coach Bobby Ross -- Scott Mitchell out, Charlie Batch in -- don't view this as a tidy answer for the Lions' woes.It never is.
Maybe they had an argument. I don't really care. All I know is a man was driving a Ford Bronco on the Lodge Freeway last week and a Cadillac pulled alongside him with several passengers inside and next thing you know, someone in the Cadillac was firing bullets. Three of those bullets hit the driver of the truck. He veered off the highway and began to die.An hour later, there was one less person in our city.
Of all the scenes I can picture in my mind -- and with an imagination like mine, that's a pretty nasty collection -- I cannot envision anyone throwing a rat at Jack Nicklaus.
EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. -- The problem with college basketball, some say, is too many freshmen in ripped undershirts, too many sophomores with police records, too many juniors with agents, and not enough seniors. You remember seniors, don't you? The elder statesmen of the game? Not long ago, a coach would say, "We have a good team; we start five seniors." Today, five seniors is a golf tour.Which is what makes tonight's matchup between Kentucky and Syracuse both pleasant and -- I know this is a funny word when talking about college sports -- educational.
"Robinson, I need a man that will take abuse and insults. If some guy slides into you and calls you a black so-and-so, you'd come up swinging. And you'd be justified. But you'd set the cause back 20 years.""Mr. Rickey, do you want a ballplayer who's afraid to fight back?""Jack, I want a ballplayer with guts enough not to fight back."There was a long pause."Mr. Rickey, if you want to take this gamble, I promise there will be no incident."-- Jackie Robinson and Branch Rickey, as recounted by the scout who brought them together, Clyde Sukeforth.
"I believe in the church of baseball."From the movie "Bull Durham" ANAHEIM, Calif. -- We have a problem. We've had a fight. We have fallen out of love with the sport that used to delight us, and now baseball has come back, holding flowers, asking for forgiveness.This will not come quickly. For some, it might not come at all. I begin to make my peace the way I knew I would once I arrived here, at the hotel, for tonight's Tigers opener against the California Angels.I call John Doherty's room. At 9 a.m.Sleeping.I call at 10. Still sleeping.
No chance, you told yourself. No way. Nicklas Lidstrom wound up for a slap shot, just a few feet in front of the blue line, and you whispered, "Forget it," because that's nearly 60 feet from the net, and in a game like this -- a sweaty, hard- checking, goaltenders-like-flypaper affair -- a shot like that, at best, only serves to set up another, right?Lidstrom swung anyhow. The puck went screaming. Suddenly he couldn't see it."Have you ever made a winning playoff goal before?" someone would ask later."Never before," he would say.
COREY SCHLESINGER was slumped on his knees, head lowered, hands out, like a man who had thrown himself before his Lord and maker, asking for forgiveness. Forty yards behind him, the San Diego Chargers were celebrating his gift, a fumble that came into the arms of cornerback Darryll Lewis, who ran it in for a clinching touchdown.It was more than a mistake. It was a trip back in time. In one play, the 1999 Lions were stripped of their new identity as the NFL's underdog winner, and were redressed as the Franchise That Couldn't Shoot Straight.
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.
