OAKLAND, Calif. -- It is not for me, as a sports writer with ketchup stains on his shirt and a screaming editor on the other end of the phone, to take sides in this World Series. But I am. Taking sides. Actually, I'm taking a front. Rick Reuschel's front. Actually, just the part from his chest to his belt. I like it. Reminds me of my Uncle Mort, the pickle man from Baltimore.
It's a good thing the strike is over so we can get back to the really important things in football, like finding lost sisters.Yes. That is what I said. Lost sisters. In a week full of the strange and weird, this incident may have been the strangest and weirdest of all:Reggie Rogers, the Lions' No. 1 draft pick, gave his sister, Jackie, the keys to the Bronco last Saturday. And she did not come back: not on Saturday, or Sunday, or Monday, or Tuesday.On Wednesday, Rogers skipped practice to search for her.
COLUMBUS, Ohio -- No bigger games. No bigger moments. This is all you live for if you wear a Wolverines or Buckeyes uniform, this game, this Saturday in mid-November, and the final gun was but 66 seconds away, and there were hearts beating crazily all over the field, as if they would burst."'Make it, make it," prayed the Ohio State players. "Miss it, miss it," countered the Michigan team.
THE LIVE ALBOM:* Now here's something nice. In the past week I've spoken to Kirk Gibson, Dan Petry and Walt Terrell. All are former Tigers. All play now in California. And all live in Michigan during the winter.
It was hot inside the church. The bride and groom stepped to the altar. This was last weekend, Joe Maiorana's wedding, and his college pals were serving as ushers. Bill Ryan. Dave Maine. And, of course, Kurt Dobronski, his ex-room mate, his best friend, who had flown in from Phoenix for the occasion. "It was the first time," Bill remembers, "that all four of us were together in tuxedos."
Bruce Kimball killed two people earlier this month when his car swerved out of control and plowed into a group of teenagers. He had been drinking. He was taken away in handcuffs. Now, like any other American, he is awaiting his trial.This would not attract much attention under normal circumstances. Auto-related deaths, even those involving drunken driving, are too common in this country to grab many headlines.
MUIRFIELD, Scotland -- He has always had a great face. Thick black hair, dancing eyes, a grin that could open a steel-plated cookie jar. Look at him in a happy moment, he can blind you with brio. Look later, and you may see deeper inside, the poor Mexican kid hustling golf shots, the teenage Marine with the girl's name tattooed on his arm, the yakking prankster who charmed the sports world in winning six major championships. The years have put creases in that tanned skin now, yet when he laughs, the age vanishes. A great face will do that.
They are a like a Fourth of July sparkler down to its final seconds of flame. Where are the Atlanta Hawks now? Where is the team that stepped on everybody in the final month of the regular season? Where is the slam-jam, the midair excellence of Dominique Wilkins, the mile-a-minute breaks that left opponents with their mouths open?
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.
