Steve Yzerman wanted to break something. He paced the locker room, while his sweat-drenched teammates slumped on their chairs, reeling from the evening's defeat. Yzerman grabbed a glass and moved to a private area behind the showers. Now he was alone. He cocked the glass like a baseball pitcher -- "Throw it! Vent your anger!" the voices sang in his head -- and he was about to smash it into a thousand pieces, when, suddenly, another voice inside whispered, "What good will that do? It won't change things."And he froze.
When NBA players start treating their coach like a substitute math teacher, it's time to say good-bye. Ron Rothstein was liked by few, tolerated by most, and flat-out ignored by others. It is no surprise he is fired this morning. I keep waiting for an eraser to hit him in the back of his head.Bye, Ron. Enjoy the money. Find an island and try to bring down your blood pressure.
Year after year, the NFL combs the country for the best young college football players. And today, draft day, many of those players will huddle around TV sets with their loved ones: mom, dad, sister, brother, agent, lawyer, accountant, personal trainer, PR flack and shoe company representative. Many are called, few are chosen.
He was walking through the field to get to his father and suddenly, there it was. A big black snake."Were you scared?" the boy is asked. "No," he says now.The snake had a yellow belly. It was poisonous. The boy did what he was taught to do in his Guatemalan mountain village: he did not run. He watched the snake, saw it move towards him."Then what happened?" "Bit me," he says.
THE LIVE ALBOM* My shock of the week: carob raisins, vegetarian burritos and hazelnut coffee at Tiger Stadium. Next thing you know, the dugout will have a hardwood floor and a Miro poster.* And Pachabel on the loudspeakers. * By the way, you think that Home Run Bar in Tiger Plaza is large enough? Take that, and the giant daiquiri stand, and on a hot day, you might as well roll the paddy wagon right up to the gates. * Eric Montross, I know Dolph Lundgren. I worked with him. You, sir, are no Dolph Lundgren.Eric's reality Eric's dream
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.