Once upon a time, when you asked someone for an interview, you didn't plan on calling him names.Then again, once upon a time, we used leeches to cure the common cold.Times have changed. So it didn't surprise me when an NFL quarterback named Jim Everett went on a cable talk show last week, and the host insultingly called him "Chris" -- as in Chris Evert, the female tennis player -- not once, not twice, but three times."I'll bet you don't call me that again," the quarterback warned."I'll bet I do," the host said.He smirked."Chris," he said.
C HARLOTTE, N.C. -- The shot was a prayer; it left Scotty Thurman's hand with one second left on the shot clock and arched so high, the President of the United States could have reached out and touched it from his special seat in the upper deck. Who knows? Maybe he did. How else could a championship like this be decided, but by presidential decree?
CHARLOTTE, N.C. -- The big lie began every morning, with the book bag he carried and the clothes he wore. He would eat breakfast, kiss his mother good-bye, make like he was going to school, then not go to school at all. He would go to a gym and play ball. All day. When one gym closed, he would go to another. In between, he'd sit in parks and stare at the sky.
CHARLOTTE, N.C. -- We start with the pigs.Oh, they may not call themselves pigs. They may call themselves Hogs, or Razorbacks, or President of the United States, but they sure look like pigs, don't they, with those snouts on their heads? See them over there? Cute, huh? Some even wear a whole pig face and little curlicue ears, and they walk around making "oink!" sounds.Others just vomit from beer.Watch your step, folks.
DALLAS -- The last shot was an air ball by Jalen Rose, which, given the circumstances, was appropriate. The Michigan miracles were gone now, no more time, no more magic, nothing but the weak breeze of a missed jumper. The president of the United States was coming out to high-five the opposing team, and the arena was an Arkansas chorus, roaring for the Wolverines to get off the court. Ray Jackson ducked toward the bench area, trying to exit the fastest way, but a security man stopped him with an epitaph for the Michigan season: You can't go out the way you came in.
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.