ATLANTA -- The plane sat on the tarmac, stuck in limbo, and the man who would have to save the World Series for the New York Yankees sat inside it, feeling the beads of sweat starting to form."How long?" he wanted to know.Maybe a half-hour, he was told. Maybe hours. No way to tell. Computer problem."Computer problem?" he thought.He envisioned every travel nightmare you can think of. Flight gets canceled. Back-up flight gets canceled. He spends the rest of night wandering around an airport . . ."Wait a minute."
NEW YORK -- Here was Cecil Fielder, standing in the batting cage before a World Series game. He took five swings, three of which sent balls into the outfield seats. Fans cheered each blast. The air was breezy and the night was cool.October.Fielder jogged out of the cage and was grabbed by Reggie Jackson, now a Yankees adviser, who whispered a few ideas into Cecil's ear. Cecil smiled. He was talking to Reggie.October.
I've been on a few TV talk shows. This is how they work. You sit in a room, waiting to go on, and a person comes in to encourage you and the other guests to keep things "lively." This person is often a young, good-looking production assistant, smartly dressed, with an air of having done this a million times before.He or she will smile a lot, and use words such as "fast- paced" and "excitement" and "have fun out there" and "keep it moving."What they are saying, without ever saying it, is "don't be boring."At no time do they say, "Be careful."
The phone rang around 3:30 Wednesday afternoon. Paul Boyer, the equipment man, picked it up."Who wears No. 14 for us?" asked Scotty Bowman, the Red Wings coach."Aaron Ward," Boyer said."Make a new No. 14 with the name 'Shanahan.' Give Ward No. 27. You think he'll mind?""No," Boyer said, smiling, "I don't think he'll mind."
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.
