Hello, Mr. X? This is Lou Holtz.Lou! Thanks for calling me back. You know this conversation must remain secret.Of course.We don't want Coach Y getting suspicious.Right.So, Lou. You want back in the NFL.I certainly do, Mr. X. With all my heart.Can I ask why you left Notre Dame?Gosh, sir, that's tough. The kids were truly wonderful, and I pray that I led them with a strong hand and a wise heart, but in my soul there burns a passion for new horizons.They told you to take a hike.Pretty much, yes, sir.
NEW YORK -- Here was Cecil Fielder, standing in the batting cage before a World Series game. He took five swings, three of which sent balls into the outfield seats. Fans cheered each blast. The air was breezy and the night was cool.October.Fielder jogged out of the cage and was grabbed by Reggie Jackson, now a Yankees adviser, who whispered a few ideas into Cecil's ear. Cecil smiled. He was talking to Reggie.October.
NAGANO, Japan -- When she finished the performance of her dreams, she threw her hands in the air and began to run across the ice, bouncing on her skate tips, her smile as big as the arena itself. She ran on pure adrenaline, like a kid running to meet her daddy at the airport gate -- only it wasn't the airport, it was the Olympics. And it wasn't Daddy, it was destiny. Look who just grew up.
Would it surprise you that Dennis Rodman acted relatively normal on Sunday? That he didn't throw a tantrum? That his hair was neither strawberry nor pistachio? That he had no new tattoos engraved in his skin? That he played the whole game without an ejection?Would you be shocked -- or disappointed?Here is how the media works around Rodman. He was surrounded after Chicago's victory Sunday, and was peppered with questions about his return to the Palace.Was it a special game?"Nah. I just tried to win."Did it feel weird being back?
Let me step to the plate and be the first to offer the Lions this apology on behalf of the media: They were absolutely wrong for doubting you.OK! OK! I mean, we.There. Merry Christmas.Not that there wasn't cause for doubt about two months ago, when the Lions were 3-6. At that time, we had no proof this team could win a coin toss, let alone its next six games.
One sack. One stinking sack. One strong push through the monster in front of you, one mad dash to the quarterback, one wrap him up before he throws the ball and smash him to the ground. Not so hard, right? One lousy sack? Heck, if you're out there every game, starting on the defensive line, you might get a couple just by accident, no? Sixteen games? One little notch in your belt? Is that too much to ask?
THE CZECH rookie had been having a pretty lousy time in Detroit. Fifteen seconds into Tuesday's Game 3, he was slammed into the wall by Detroit's Kris Draper and went flipping over, landing in the laps of his teammates. How embarrassing.Then, early Thursday night, he was upended by Draper once more, landing on his back like a kid who falls out of the top bunk.
First of all, get out of Gary Moeller's head. You don't belong there, neither do I. All these armchair psychiatrists who are rooting around his brain as if it's their personal attic -- "I think he's under too much pressure. . . ." "The eight losses in two years have gotten to him" -- they have no idea what they're talking about and never will.
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.
