EN ROUTE TO NAGANO, JAPAN -- I wave good-bye to the lucky ones, the ones who get to see the Winter Olympics."So long," I say to my buddy with the big-screen TV, as I board the plane for Japan, "enjoy the event.""You, too," he says, waving."Lucky stiff," I mumble.I should not feel envy, but I feel envy. I am jealous of their luck. I am jealous of their good fortune. Mostly, I am jealous of their seat."Don't forget to tell me what happens," I yell to my buddy who owns a sports bar. "I want details."
SAN DIEGO -- Well, if the pope can visit Cuba, the Unabomber can confess, and the president can be accused of making whoopee with an intern, I guess the AFC can win a Super Bowl.
SAN DIEGO -- I blame El Nino.What else, Curt, could make a mature, respected, otherwise intelligent sports writer like yourself behave like a sea monkey?Look at you, bobbing back and forth, picking the Denver Broncos. How cute. What other colors do you come in?It must be El Nino, Curt. They blame it for every other nutty thing that happens here in California.And nutty is the word, my old, old friend, when you open your mouth and say, "The Denver Broncos will win the Super Bowl."
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.