NEWPORT BEACH, Calif. -- The bus rolls off the avenue and into the crowded parking lot. The passengers peer out the window. Most of them are muscular young men wearing green satin football jackets. The coach, a round figure with silver hair, stands up in front. "AWRIGHT, GUYS. YOU KNOW WHO YOU'RE GONNA SEE HERE? HUH?"Silence."YOU'RE GONNA SEE MICKEY MOUSE. MY MAN MICKEY."Laughter."AND DONALD DUCK."Laughter."AND . . . AND . . . " He looks for help. "Who's that other guy?""Pluto?"
TORONTO -- The starting goalie, Sam St. Laurent, was lying flat on his back inside the net, his twisted right knee causing horrible pain. The backup goalie, Greg Stefan, who last game was so ill he could barely move, was now tugging on his mask, preparing to come in. The backup to him was . . . was . . . There was no backup to him."How serious do you think Sam's injury is?" someone asked Red Wings general manager Jimmy Devellano, who was pacing nervously inside the Maple Leaf Gardens press box.
LAKELAND, Fla. -- I walk slowly through the Tiger clubhouse, waving hello, then scratching my head. I have seen these players before. And I have not seem them before. I mean, they look familiar. Sort of. That is what I mean. I think. "Kirk?" I say, to the player whose uniform back reads GIBSON. "Kirk Gibson? But I thought--""Sorry?" says Paul Gibson, turning around."Sorry," I say.
TEMPE, Ariz. -- I don't know what they put in the locker-room water out here, but I'm not leaving until I get some.Cactus juice? Iguana blood? Something magical. Must be. For there were the Michigan Wolverines, down 14-3 at halftime of the Fiesta Bowl, and looking meek. Nebraska was whomping them. The thousands of Michigan fans who had flown thousands of miles and endured thousands of hangovers to get up for this New Year's Day kickoff were watching a genuine maize and blue Desert Disaster.
If he plays, he plays. What's the big deal? Personally, I can think of 100 more interesting debates than whether the Lions should unwrap Chuck Long this week or next month. Face it. The guy can throw touchdown passes from now until New Year's. They're still out of the playoffs.But everywhere you turn, you hear it. "When's Rogers going to bench Hipple?" "What's he waiting for?" "Why doesn't he start the kid?"Everybody's talking about Chuck Long. And nobody's talking to him.
WIMBLEDON, England -- The guy from Australia wore a checkered headband. The guy from West Germany wore just his hair, lots of it, thick blond locks that bounced with every leaping backhand.And the girls screamed."BORIS! BORIS!""PAT! PAT!"
BOSTON -- When would he smile? That's all that was left. His team had the NBA championship in the bag -- a 22-point lead with 2:20 left -- and the Boston Garden fans were on their feet, shrieking like madmen, because Larry Bird, still looking deadly serious, was coming out of the game.
NEWPORT BEACH, Calif. -- Gary Moeller is wearing a tie these days. Pretty soon, the jacket will follow. He'll develop that special walk, the brisk pace that discourages autograph hounds. His eyes will focus straight ahead. His mind will work a mile a minute. He inevitably will have someone on his right or left, a PR guy, an assistant, and he'll turn and say, "How much time do I got?"
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.
