BOSTON -- Listen. I have a trade to propose: Me for Ron Darling. One for one. Here's the deal. Darling, the New York Mets' heartthrob pitcher, gets everything I own. Everything I ever accomplished. Everything I ever laid my eyes, ears or hands on, including my first bicycle. And I get to be him for 24 hours.That's all. Just one day. I do not jest. Everything in the kitty. For 24 hours.
I am getting a little tired of traveling around the country and hearing sports fans say: "Oh, you're from Detroit? How are they doing?" The next person who says that to me, I kick.The fact is, Detroit is doing better than any other sports city in 1987, thank you. And I am sure people in such high- cultured, well-educated places such as New York and Los Angeles would quickly realize this, if they ever stopped shopping.
A lot of people were shocked last week when Chicago Bears coach Mike Ditka suffered a heart attack. But I was not. After all, one look at the volatile coach, ranting and raving on the sidelines, and you knew that he was an accident waiting to happen.The truth is, in football, it is possible to tell the stress levels of coaches simply by watching them on Sunday afternoons.
TAMPA, Fla. -- Chuck looked at Darryl.Darryl looked at Chuck.Joe looked at Darryl.And Darryl looked at Joe.Then Joe and Darryl both looked at Chuck, who was still looking at Darryl, I think.You getting all this?"Oh, all right, get on in there," Darryl said.Ta da.The Long era begins.Let the history books show that with 2:06 left in a meaningless game in a sun-stroked Florida stadium, Detroit's quarterback of the future saw his first NFL action. And here it was.He called the play, marched out of the huddle . . .
From now until late next week, if you see someone from St. Louis, I think it only fitting that you immediately lower your shoulder and slam him into the nearest wall. In the interest of team spirit, of course.We are talking hockey. We are talking playoffs. We are talking the key to the Detroit Red Wings-St. Louis Blues series, which begins tonight. "Checking," the players predict."Checking," the coaches predict.
WIMBLEDON, England -- There is a billboard on the London streets this year that features Martina Navratilova and Steffi Graf, giant-sized, nose-to-nose. Only Martina's face is in pieces, falling apart, like a jigsaw puzzle. And the caption reads: "WILL THIS BE BREAK POINT FOR THE OLD GUARD?"
CALGARY, Alberta -- The bodies were all over the ice, the crowd screaming madly, and the puck -- the puck! -- was just sitting there, between the legs of Soviet goalie Sergei Mylnikov, who was sprawled, face down, in the crease. Todd Okerlund saw it, reached for it, flicked it in and followed for good measure, his whole body in the net, and for one moment, one brief, loud, but glorious moment, everything seemed possible again. How far back had the Americans been in this Olympic hockey game? Trailing, 6-2, at the start of the third period, even the ABC network had broken away.
Somewhere along the line, we forget that they are human. We figure they will be there forever, or until they willingly retire to the broadcast booth or the Hall of Fame. Whatever takes them out, it will be something more than pain or exhaustion, right? That's for us common folk.If you had to pick two faces you would most expect to see on a late spring day inside the Tigers' clubhouse, whose would they be? 1) Sparky Anderson -- at 55, arguably baseball's finest manager, and 2) Jack Morris, 34, the star attraction pitcher, the longest-tenured Tiger.
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.
