NAKISKA, Alberta -- There were hands around his waist, hands grabbing his neck and two, three, four hands slapping him on the head."ALBERTO! ALBERTO!"He waved. He laughed. He pointed playfully to the No. 1 on his racing bib. There were Italian flags behind him and Italian flags in front of him, and five, six, seven hands slapping him on the head."ALBERTO!""FANTASTICO, ALBERTO!"
TORONTO -- The catch. The catch. Everyone wanted to talk about the catch."I know I caught it," pleaded Lloyd Moseby, his hair wet, his uniform stained with dirt. "The umpires are good. But a ball player knows when he catches a ball. And I caught that ball."
BOSTON -- Aha! I know what's going on here. Not long after Saturday's game -- when Fenway Park had emptied and the Red Sox had clobbered the Tigers for their 24th straight home victory -- I heard the telltale clue.Giggling."We did it again," the leprechauns chuckled from somewhere inside the stadium, maybe behind the right field bleachers. "We still got it. Heh-heh."
SPRINGFIELD, Mass. -- It was too early for a basketball classic. The first snows hadn't even fallen, much less melted. The days were growing shorter, football ruled the screen and the words "final four" would be interpreted as how many shopping weeks left until Christmas. Yet here was an arena full of people and a court full of network TV cameras waiting for greatness from two college basketball teams, who just happened to have been pre-season ranked No. 1 and 2 by most everybody in the know, you know.Georgia Tech and Michigan.
You could see it coming; if you had any compassion, you closed your eyes. Frank Tanana had loaded the bases in the first inning -- a single, two walks -- and now a kid named Todd Benzinger was up for the Red Sox, and he pretty much held the pitcher's immediate future in his bat. Whack! A long fly ball. Over the left-center fence. Gone.And so was Tanana.
LOUISVILLE -- The beasts were pawing at the gates."START THEM UP!" someone screamed."WOOOH!" screamed someone else.Only the gates stood between them and mad glory. The beasts were restless. The beasts wanted to run."IT'S TIIIIME!" someone screamed."DO IT!" screamed someone else.A cop checked his watch. There were about 75 cops there, billy clubs by their sides, safe on the other side of the gates, away from these wild animals. The cop with the watch looked up. He nodded.
As a kid in Philadelphia, I played a lot of ice hockey. It came with the territory. The Flyers were the only winning team in town. So if you wanted to feel good, you put on skates, grabbed a stick and picked a Flyer to call your own.
CALGARY, Alberta -- There were hands on his shoulders and hands cupped behind his neck and two, three, four hands slapping him lovingly on the head. Bells were ringing. Women were singing. "ALBERTO! ALBERTO!""BELLA, ALBERTO!"He waved. He laughed. He pointed playfully to the No. 1 on his racing bib. There were Italian flags behind him and Italian flags in front of him, and four, five, six hands slapping him loivingly on the head."ALBERTO!"" FANTASTICO, ALBERTO!"
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.
