CHICAGO -- I must be honest. Before they ever jumped it up Sunday afternoon, I wanted the Pistons to send five YMCA guys out there and let them play the Bulls. Lose big. Why not? I figured Detroit would never win Game 1 anyhow, no way, not after playing so hard Friday night against the Celtics while the Bulls sat around, foaming at the mouth. Let the maniac fans here scream themselves hoarse. Let Chicago win by 400 points. Let the real Pistons rest. See ya in Game 2.
* LIONS 19, BUCCANEERS 10: The Bucs ain't the Bears.* WASHINGTON 20, ATLANTA 10: Sorry, Falcons. That "Hail Mary" stuff only works once every 30 years.
Andre Ware stood on the sideline like a man who had just been scolded. He crossed his feet. He uncrossed his feet. He folded his arms. He unfolded his arms. His jaw was tight. He stared out into space.
It was as pointless as shooting rubber bands at a tank. Here came the Purdue Boilermakers, and Michigan tried to -- swish! -- oops never mind, now here they came again, put a hand in their faces -- swish! -- oops, never mind, now came the break, stop it before -- swish! -- oops, we better -- swish! swish!Forget it. If Purdue shoots like this the rest of the way, you can wrap up the Big Ten title in black and gold paper. Right now. You better hurry -- swish! -- up.
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.
Fourth of five excerpts from from "Fab Five: Basketball, Trash Talk, the American Dream" by Free Press sports columnist Mitch Albom. "Fab Five" is published by Warner Books, 359 pages, $21.95.On a cold January night in 1973, Jeanne Rose felt the stirrings of her fourth child. She called her brother Len -- "Hurry up, I'm having the baby" -- to drive her to the hospital. He raced over in his green Fiat, helped her in and slammed on the accelerator. By the time they reached the hospital, Jeanne was deep into contractions."Hang on!" Len urged."I'm trying!" she said.
There was a knock on the door. Dennis Rodman, who was not answering knocks or phones, peeked out the window. He did not recognize the man, or the little boy, or the pickup truck.He cracked the door open."This is from the Pistons," the man said, holding out an envelope. Rodman took it. Inside was a neatly typed notice saying he had been suspended, without pay, effective immediately. After six years of a storybook NBA career, he was off the team. Rodman stared at the paper."Uh, Dennis?" the delivery man said."Huh?"
THE LIVE ALBOM: * You want to know why I hate predictions? As I write this, Buster Douglas is heavyweight champ, Michigan State will play for a title, we might or might not have baseball, and Bob Probert is back on skates.
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.