AWORD here to Barry Sanders, and I choose it carefully, thoughtfully and after much consideration:SPEAK!Enough already with the silence thing. Barry is pushing goodwill to the edge of the cliff. He is making fools out of people who defend him. And his trademark love of quiet is starting to look more and more like a negotiating ploy.
SEATTLE -- They lost their first superstar over the summer, when he retired without a phone call. They lost their second superstar minutes into Sunday's season opener when a lineman came flying into his knee. Down he went. Off he went. Carted away. Future uncertain. Herman Moore gone. Barry Sanders gone.And that, ladies and gentlemen, is all the superstars the Lions had."For a split second there," offensive tackle Ray Roberts would later say, "I thought I heard all the TV sets in Detroit click off at once."
THE U.S. OPEN, IN THE YEAR 2009 -- "Well, Jim, as we begin today's final round, this golf championship has certainly lived up to its billing.""It sure has, Ben. The leader board says it all. A challenge between the old guard and the new.""Speaking of that old guard, here's the ageless Tiger Woods ready to tee off. He's tied for the lead, and, man, he's like Father Time, isn't he? He just keeps going.""Look at that tee shot. Remarkable, for a man in his 30s.""Wait, Jim, he's gonna ...yes, he's gonna walk rather than take the cart! Wow! What conditioning!"
Ihave this vision. It is of a room. A large room. Lots of high-tech equipment inside. Levers. Buttons. Flashing lights.Entrance to this room is rare. A sign outside reads "AMERICAN BUZZ." The door is always locked.But a select few have the key. And those who do get to insert the topic they want the whole country to be talking about, pull the levers and watch their power work. In recent months, George Lucas and his "Star Wars" people were in there. So were the Kennedy family mythologists.
They lined the streets in a hellish heat, on the darkest day in this city's recent history. And they were smiling.They couldn't wait to hand their money over.They sweated. They sat on the curb. They passed hour after hour in boring humidity, staring at a building, waiting for its doors to open.They couldn't wait to hand their money over.They weren't shopping. They weren't buying anything. They would not go home with a car, a new dress or even a bag of groceries. Most would go home with nothing more than emptier pockets. Still, they stayed.
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.
