The Live Albom:
Let’s see. Alan Trammell had a hitting streak of 22 games; the day I wrote about him, it ended. Paul Molitor had a hitting streak of 39 games; the day I wrote about him, it ended. Hmmm.
I think I’ll go to Toronto, to write about the Blue Jays’ winning streak. Then to New York, to profile Steinbrenner. Well, the U.S. Open begins next week, and New Yorkers are looking forward to seeing Steffi Graf, the world’s No. 1-ranked female player. Graf, however, is more eager about finally meeting her long-lost sister, Barbra Streisand. Separated at birth by a hurricane, the two now plan to make a movie about their remarkable story. It is currently titled “The Wizard of Schnoz.” I think I speak for every mature, intelligent, thoughtful person in this country when I say I hope someone knocks Brian Bosworth’s teeth out. To be honest, I hope Lawrence Taylor’s new “expose” doesn’t sell a single copy. Same goes for “Hollywood” Henderson’s. There’s something sick about wasting a fortune on drugs, then making it back by writing a book about the experience. Incidentally, I have news for the NFL players who are threatening to strike the second week of the season: The way baseball is going, at least eight cities won’t even notice you’re gone. Well, the tradition of rookies singing their fight songs took a twist at Lions camp. Truemane Jones, a stud from Kentucky, delighted the team with a searing version of “I’ve Gotta Be Me!” Players wanted more, but Truemane said sorry, he was a little hoarse. Pan Am Games? Three words: Are they over? Howard Johnson should open a wine-bottling business. You’re expected to put cork in those.
ODE TO AN AMERICAN BASEBALL
Razors, sandpaper, nail files, spit,
Almost anything goes with it,
Scuffed, “lively,” it’s all the same,
Whack! — it’s out-of-the-park again! Who cares where the Raiders move? Well, by now everyone knows that Phil Niekro, the oldest pitcher in baseball, has been traded to Toronto. What they don’t know is that when this season ends, Niekro plans to resume his acting career. He’ll do the sequel to
“Spartacus,” under his stage name, Kirk Douglas. Rick Leach disappears. Rick Leach reappears. Rick Leach says it was a spat with his wife. Was it just me, or did you feel like a parent who loses his child in a shopping mall, panics, then wants to spank the kid silly when he wanders back? Cris Carter should take what money he gets from the supplemental draft (when and if it’s held), go on “Wheel of Fortune” and buy an “h” for his first name. I don’t want to jump the gun here, but I am now accepting suggestions for how we apologize to Bill Lajoie and Sparky Anderson. There is no truth to the rumor that Boris Becker was so upset after losing Wimbledon this summer that he had plastic surgery to disguise himself. Boris has kept things in perspective, and these days is often heard to remark,
“What, me worry?”
Funny Girl Steffi Funny Girl Barb
Alfred E. . . . Boom Boom?
Phil as Phil Phil as Kirk