About this Section

A National Sportscasters and Sportswriters Association Hall of Famer, Mitch Albom has written a syndicated column for the Detroit Free Press for the last 25 years archived here exclusively, free of charge. He also periodically writes for national magazines. And he’s a regular on ESPN’s the Sports Reporters, from which his “parting shot” commentaries are collected here.

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For the first time ever, all of Mitch's journalistic writing is now available online, free of charge.



Latest Column: Sunday, August 7, 2011

The Joys of Summer

Go ahead, kids. Lie in the grass. Study the clouds. Daydream. Be lazy. You have our permission. 

I feel sorry for today’s kids. Summer comes, they’re finally free from school—and bang!Band camp. Science seminars. Internships. 

Instead of downtime, it’s get-up-and-go time. Chorus travel, archaeological digs, dance tours. My nephew from Michigan flew to Georgetown University for a summer medical program, replete with cadavers. He was 16.

Sports Illustrated

Latest Column: Monday, January 12, 2009

The Courage of Detroit

This was Christmas night. In the basement of a church off an icy street in downtown Detroit, four dozen homeless men and women sat at tables. The smell of cooked ham wafted from the kitchen. The pastor, Henry Covington, a man the size of two middle linebackers, exhorted the people with a familiar chant.

“I am somebody,” he yelled.

“I am somebody!” they repeated.

“Because God loves me!”



Latest Column: Monday, September 22, 2014

DeAndre Levy's sharp calls help Lions pack up Green Bay

DeAndre Levy pulled on the helmet. It wasn't the normal helmet. It was the "other" helmet. The one with the extra radio in it. The one he can only use if Stephen Tulloch goes down. Which Tulloch did. For the first time in nine years. After celebrating a sack. Really. And suddenly, like a bus driver grabbing an abandoned wheel, Levy, the linebacker, had mere seconds to take charge.


Latest Column: Sunday, September 21, 2014

Her flock sure to say you gotta have Faith

So this is your office?" I ask.

"I cleaned it up," she says. "Can you smell the Pledge?"

I glance around a nearly empty room, just bookcases, a desk, a picture of Jesus.

"Is your home like this, too?"

"Yeah," she says. "Except for the Pledge."

Mitch, the Players, the Job

Mitch, the Players, the Job

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