ST. GEORGE, Utah -- "Where's the soap?""You don't need it," I was told. "Just wipe yourself with that mitt.""The one with mustard on it?""It's not mustard, it's a mixture of ash, rainwater, sand and juniper berry extracts.""OK. Where's the towel?""You don't need one.""But when I finish showering?""Dry yourself with the other mitt.""The one with ketchup on it?""It's not ketchup, it's moisturizer made with olive oil, gardenias and grapefruit.""Oh . . . that mitt."
PHILADELPHIA-- As reporters gathered outside the Lions' locker room after yet another early-season loss, they pulled out their notepads and prepared to face the players. One guy looked around and mumbled, "Anyone got any new questions I can use?"It was a grim but accurate statement about pro football in Detroit. Same questions. Same answers. Same dull toothache. The Lions, under Wayne Fontes, play their games the way they play their seasons -- too casual at the start, a mad rush at the end. Almost always, they come up short, talking about "next week."
Alvin Harper was so alone, he could have shot off a flare. He waved his hands. He jumped up and down. And, as is often the case with his team, he watched as the ball went somewhere else, the wrong place, thrown by a quarterback who has a lot to learn. Harper walked slowly back to the Tampa Bay huddle, shaking his head, wearing those silly orange pants.
The little girl died of starvation. She was 4 years old. Her mother didn't like the way she looked -- said her face reminded her too much of her father -- so she didn't feed her. The child withered to skin and bones. When the cops found her dead body, they also found six other living children, who slept together on one mattress in the rat-infested New York City apartment. The 32-year-old mother, now facing murder charges, was pregnant again.
One sack. One stinking sack. One strong push through the monster in front of you, one mad dash to the quarterback, one wrap him up before he throws the ball and smash him to the ground. Not so hard, right? One lousy sack? Heck, if you're out there every game, starting on the defensive line, you might get a couple just by accident, no? Sixteen games? One little notch in your belt? Is that too much to ask?
MINNEAPOLIS -- It was a summer afternoon better suited to a barbecue, which might explain why the Lions played their season opener the way a kid roasts a marshmallow, toying with it, sticking it closer to the fire, closer to the fire -- oops, it's in the fire.What a gooey mess.See if this sounds familiar: The Lions go on the road to open the season, they mess around, make mistakes and blow a game they should have won in the final seconds. Bingo! It's last year all over. And you thought hamburgers and hot dogs were the only constants of Labor Day weekend.
The world of sports turned its eyes to Atlanta for 17 days, when former boxing champ Muhammad Ali, top, thrilled the nation on opening night, left. Michael Johnson, above, was unbeatable in the 200 and 400 meters, and little Kerri Strug, right, was swept up in the U.S. gold rush. FACES OF THE GAMES
ATLANTA -- That sound you heard was a bomb. The explosion at Centennial Park that claimed one life and affected thousands of others may be your first memory when someone says, "Olympics, 1996."But not your last.
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.
