Let me get this straight. Jerry Ball is complaining about his salary. Again. After he renegotiated a few months ago.And let me get this straight. Bennie Blades, who does more fist-waving than intercepting, and Lomas Brown, who is a member of Detroit's internationally famous offensive line, figure, hey, if Jerry can do it, we can, too. So they're complaining about their salaries and talking about renegotiating.
CHAMPAIGN, Ill. -- Jeff George, the Illinois quarterback, fidgeted with his helmet strap. This was his time, wasn't it? The final seven minutes. He was the miracle man, the can-do kid. He does more with a football in the closing minutes than some teams do all afternoon. Hands on hips. Look up. Look down. It was his time.
CHAMPAIGN, Ill. -- Jeff George, the celebrated Illinois quarterback, had his hands on his hips. He fidgeted with his helmet strap. "Damn," he seemed to say, pacing up and down, "this is my time." It was the final seven minutes. He was the miracle man. The sold-out crowd was waiting breathlessly for his magic, his typical rally to victory. But he was a prisoner of the sideline.
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?
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."
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.
