The Pistons were leading Washington by, I don't know, 30 or 35 points, and it was just the second quarter, and all of a sudden someone said, "Hey, look in the corner!" And there, standing against the wall, as the fans walked past him, was the game's leading scorer, Adrian Dantley.
SAN FRANCISCO -- Slowly, they began to clap. First one, then two, then all of them, applauding, cheering, these rescue workers who have been days without a smile, covered in dirt, performing the most gruesome task that humans can be asked to perform: removing the dead. The bodies were mangled. Crushed. Some beyond recognition. And suddenly, miraculously, a heartbeat, a breath of life.A man named Bucky Helm, trapped since Tuesday's earthquake in the wreckage of the Nimitz Freeway.
Until yesterday, the most interesting thing I could tell you about the city of Milwaukee was this: "Happy Days." The TV show. Remember? The Fonz. Richie Cunningham, Howard, Marion? They all lived in Milwaukee. Supposedly. With that little girl, what's her name, Joanie? I think it's Joanie. And Laverne and Shirley. They lived there, too. With Lenny and Squiggy.What a town.
He was lying on a table, with an ice bag on his shoulder and a towel covering his face. Right here. The former Cy Young Award winner. The one-time toast of Detroit. Among the highest-paid relievers in the major leagues.Willie Hernandez, on ice."Ready to talk?" said the visitor. "Sure," he said, not moving, "go ahead."
"Here, look at this."The Pistons' PR man handed me a book that listed all the players in the NBA. He pointed to a special chapter entitled "All-Time Greats."And there was a full page on Spencer Haywood, complete with picture.I looked down at the book, then up at the hardwood court in front of us. Out amidst the squeaking sneakers, and the yells -- "Pick left! Pick left!" -- and the unforgiving thump of the basketball, there he was, in the flesh, sweating and panting with the Pistons' second string, trying to earn a final spot on the 12-man roster.
LAKELAND, Fla. -- Darnell Coles was missing a pair of undershorts. And he said so. And several teammates helped him search."They were here a minute ago," he announced. "Now, where did they go?"This may not seem especially significant, even for spring training. But last year at this time, Darnell Coles would not have gambled aloud with a statement so innocent.His underwear, gone? Are you kidding? He would have slid over to the clubhouse man, whispered the loss, and offered to pay for a new pair if they could just keep it their little secret.
Winter, and our thoughts turn to the NFL playoffs. Who can understand them? The division winners go. They go, don't they? Yeah. I think . . . wait. Yeah. They go. But then come the dreaded wild-card spots. Four in all. Four wild cards? When we used to play poker as kids, we didn't have that many wild cards. How are the wild-card berths determined? Is it most victories, or most points, or most head-to-head victories, or most head-to-head victories with points against common opponents within the conference on artificial turf against the spread, or what?
Let us pause here for a day in the life of the Tigers' latest hero: Jim Walewander.Uh, that's W-a-l-e-w-a-n-d-e-r.Right. OK. He is a rookie. He has played in 23 big-league games. Here is how he learned he was starting Sunday: Lou Whitaker, the Tigers' second baseman, came in at noon and said he couldn't play. Bad back. The game was 90 minutes away. A call went out from Sparky Anderson's office, a call to arms, a call to destiny. . . . "GET ME . . . WALEWANDER!"
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.
