Detroit Free Press

They haven't spoken in months. Not the way most of us speak, anyhow. John Wharton never really knew what to say ...

By now, Michigan fans have worked up a healthy lather of hatred for Penn State -- its boxy uniforms, its middle-of-nowhere location, its consistent dominance.After all, on Saturday Penn State tries to take what Michigan wants -- an undefeated season, a Rose Bowl, maybe a national championship. And as a writer in the land of maize and blue, I, too, would like to work up an angry boil for these Nittany Lions. What is a Nittany, anyhow? Is it like a ninny? A nitpicker? A nitwit?See, I'm trying to get into the hate.But I can't. Not fully. For one reason.

This is one of those weeks when you blame the quarterback, and it might not be nice and that's too bad. You want a ...

Having not seen Grant Hill in a few months, I go to Pistons practice with a twinge of concern. Off-seasons, I believe, are when egos take root. Players go home to friends and family. They hang out in clubs and parties. They hear the sycophants saying, "Man, you should be making more money . . ." or "How come you're not bigger than such-and-such? He doesn't have half your talent . . ."They come back with an attitude. A chip on their shoulders. During the season, there is barely time for playing, sleeping, and catching the next plane; it's the off-seasons when monsters are hatched.

I am starting a new boxing team. I want fighters with heart. I want fighters who eat nails and spit glass.I want ...

Here was the worst thing that ever happened to me on Halloween. I was 7 years old. I wanted to be a mummy. Since mummy costumes were hard to find, my mother cut white rags into narrow strips. Then she wrapped me from head to toe. To keep the rags tight, she safety-pinned them together. As ideas go, it was long on love and short on practicality.