I wrote a letter today. Actually put pen to stationery, addressed the envelope, stuck a stamp on it and mailed it. And I was struck by the fact that I could not remember the last time I had done such a thing. Oh sure, I send out birthday and sympathy cards, thank-you notes. But this…
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Once, when I was covering the Chicago Bulls, Scottie Pippen decided to boycott the media. It took several weeks for anybody to notice. It wasn’t that Scottie didn’t speak to us before that. He did. But we recognized those who were especially quotable and those, like Scottie, who were somewhat deficient. I bring this up…
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By Sunday, they sit in weary clumps, their well-worn bag chairs lined up alongside still another battlefield as they exchange tales of their latest mission — of surviving the elements, of travelling great distances, of late-night  sessions with the washing machine. Five games in one day, seven in two, they tell you, and you suspect…
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My new friend Tom e-mailed me the link to a newspaper column the other day, thinking I would enjoy it. I did not. The column was by a sportswriter for the Seattle Times, a very good writer named Jerry Brewer, who wrote about going back to his hometown to be inducted into his high school’s…
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“You’re still playing softball?” my daughter asked incredulously tonight as I hunted for my crusty cleats, as if somehow being too old, too slow and, well, bad would suddenly stop me from playing in our co-ed softball league this year. I mean, why should this year be any different? Playing for our Red Star Tavern…
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