You can't run your own farewell party. Sometimes, you can't even attend it. Today, in his house in Bloomfield Hills, crutches by his side, heel in a splint, Isiah Thomas no doubt realizes this.And it must bother him. He had hoped for a better ending, a cleansing rinse on his long career, dotted toward the end with unanswered questions, bad press, injuries, and snickers from longtime critics.
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.
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.
