So many voices inside Doug Collins' head, like an army of transistor radios all playing at once. There is the voice of his mother, urging him to succeed, and the voice of his father, stricken with lung cancer, saying, "Doug . . . I don't want to die."There are voices of his two grown children, whom he adores, and voices of players, coaches, friends, philosophers -- all these voices, snapping sparks in his brain, making him run, then stopping him in his tracks.If you wondered why Doug Collins is so frantic on the outside, you should see what's going on inside.
He entered the ballroom and walked briskly to his seat. The crowd applauded as strobe lights flashed and photographers lifted their cameras that made whirring and clicking sounds. He smiled and sat down, an arm's length away, and I thought maybe, just maybe, I am sitting next to the next president of the United States.
Patience, patience. If there was one lesson learned from the opening of the most anticipated hockey playoffs in Detroit history -- and let's be honest, you shouldn't learn more than one thing from the first game, right? -- it was that patience will not only be a worthy companion on this horse ride through the postseason, it may keep you sane."When already?" Wings fans seemed to ask, as Detroit went scoreless in the first and second periods Wednesday night, and trailed the eighth-seeded Jets by a 1-0 score as the final frame began. "What are you waiting for?"
For one night, they could let it go. They could allow themselves a flush of satisfaction. The war was not won, but a battle had been claimed, and only the most stoic soldier could come out of Friday night without a smile. So here, at Joe Louis Arena, amidst a shower of octopi, and a deafening chant of
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.
