WIMBLEDON, England -- In another world, they might be late for gym class, ditching the cigarets as they sneaked inside."SABATINI?" the teacher would yell."Here!""GRAF?""Here!"In another world they might streak their hair and wear Reebok sneakers that nobody paid them to endorse. They might jump in the car and crank up the radio, and Sabatini, 17, would beg Graf, 18, to let her drive."Don't tell my dad," Graf would say."No way," Sabatini would answer.
NEW YORK -- Whiskers look good on a soldier. They suggest a mind locked on battle, on the hunt, not on such trivial matters as keeping a face clean. Like dirt stains and bloody knees, the beginnings of a beard somehow say to us: "effort." They look nasty, raw, not to be trifled with.
THE LIVE ALBOM:* Oh, goody. We now have the 1988 Official Sports Trend: Name Changing. Willie wants to be called Guillermo. Bert Blyleven wants to be called Rik.
TAMPA, Fla. -- Chuck looked at Darryl. Darryl looked at Chuck.Joe looked at Darryl.And Darryl looked at Joe.Then Joe and Darryl both looked at Chuck, who was still looking at Darryl, I think.You getting all this?"Oh, all right, get on in there," Darryl said.Ta da.The Long era begins.Let the history books show that with 2:06 left in a meaningless, late-season game in Florida, Detroit's quarterback of the future saw his first NFL action. And here it was.He called the play, stepped to the line . . .And handed off.
NEW YORK -- You say: "What a nice day."I say: "Drop dead."You say: "Can I help with your luggage?"I say: "Drop dead."I am practicing. I am rehearsing my lines. I am following the advice of every general from Napoleon to MacArthur. Know your enemy. Think like your enemy. My enemy is the New Yorker. From now until a week from Sunday. Ten days. Seven baseball games. I am practicing."Call if I can be of service," you say.I say: "Drop dead."
Well, gosh darn it, what are we talking about here? This is a football coach? Darryl Rogers, the guy in the blue shorts and the bony legs and the voice that sometimes sounds disturbingly like Kermit the Frog?
CLEVELAND -- I don't know whether to call it the year or the week, because the 1986 baseball season can be referred to as either one today. But so far this year, or this week, the home run ball is taking a big chunk out of Jack Morris.It happened again Saturday. Morris surrendered a two-run homer in the first inning, pitched masterfully the next six, then gave up another two-run shot and exited. The game was soon lost, 6-2, to the Indians. The Indians? And this time, Morris' name went next to the sad result.
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.
