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Stealing Signals? From The Lions? You Must Be Joking

Stealing Signals? From The Lions? You Must Be Joking

I was fascinated last week by accusations by the Lions that several Green Bay Packers were stealing signals from the sidelines. Not that I don't believe them. It's just that, well, how on Earth can you do that? And who has the time?PLAYER 1: They're going with the red dog, deep six, drop four.PLAYER 2: Yeah. Better signal into our quarterback.PLAYER 1: Right. Let's see. Red dog, that's the closed fist isn't it? And deep six, that's a wipe of the forehead. Or wait. Is the forehead for a blitz, or --QUARTERBACK: Hut!See what I mean?
The Trade: Time To Bury Some Mistakes

The Trade: Time To Bury Some Mistakes

They handed him the red and white jersey, and he pulled it over his head. "Welcome," they said, "to the Detroit Red Wings." Jimmy Carson grinned and posed for cameras. Next to him, general manager Jimmy Devellano was beaming. On the other side, coach Jacques Demers flashed a huge smile, the kind of smile you get when a police officer tells you, "It's all a misunderstanding, sir. You're free to go."
Athletics In A Class By Themselves

Athletics In A Class By Themselves

SAN FRANCISCO -- This was all you needed to see. Second inning. The pitcher at the plate. For cripes sake, not the pitcher, too! Two strikes, two outs, and the guy, Mike Moore, an American League hurler, has only batted once before in his career. He holds the bat like Mary Poppins held her umbrella. A sure out, right?And here comes the pitch.And there goes the ball, to centerfield.And here come the runners.
Series Is A Celebration Of Lifein Time For Play, Ordinary Heroes Throwthe First Pitch

Series Is A Celebration Of Lifein Time For Play, Ordinary Heroes Throwthe First Pitch

SAN FRANCISCO -- The last time I wrote a column from this seat, there was fire in my hands. An earthquake had struck, Candlestick Park was dark, most of the frightened crowd had already rushed the exits. Alone, with no lights and one working telephone, I took a cardboard lunch box, lit it with a match, and, holding its flame above me so I could see, I tapped out the keys to send a story to my newspaper.
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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.

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