It's a manifest of American modernity, of technology and testing and the other trappings of progress, that signals the fading of the American pastime as we look further to the past for a game invented by our land's original inhabitants that is needed now more than ever.
Spring is on its way so, regardless of what sporting or exercise activity you participate in, if you want to be successful and get the most out of your performance, start from the bottom up. Yes, feet first!
The pitchers may be ahead of the hitters, as the adage goes, but Richard Albero, a 65-year-old native of New Jersey, is ahead of all of the players, as he treks on foot from Tampa's George M. Steinbrenner Field to Yankee Stadium in the Bronx.
Too many kids are throwing too many pitches, especially curve balls. Too many coaches insist that players specialize in a single sport. Too many parents and kids listen to those coaches. And too many kids are getting hurt.
Some players have retired; others were released, or were traded away. New faces dot the turf, in the form of free agent signings, prospects and other roster hopefuls. Perhaps no team is experiencing this dynamic more than the New York Yankees.
This whole gay lifestyle thing sounds so decadent and hedonistic and sinful, like a two thousand calorie dessert and here I am gay and living my boring little life, paying my children's college bills, remaining faithfully married to my husband and taking out the trash. Clearly, I have missed out.
Let me try to explain why what you said was not an innocuous sound byte, but rather an offensive statement. First, I do not have a lifestyle. I didn't choose my sexuality the same way you didn't choose yours. Second, being gay is not what defines me.
I have enjoyed a lifelong love affair with baseball. But as passionate as I am about our national pastime, there are some things that need to be changed. Here then is what I hate most about the game I truly Iove.
I am asking if you would do the one sensible thing that may finally put an end to this quagmire. Just pick up the phone, call the Dodgers, and say "Either fix this thing now, or I walk."
The other night I put aside this pessimism as my eyes opened to some truly amazing stories of humanity in sports. If you want to see what is still great about athletes, just attend a local Hall of Fame induction ceremony.
In sports, we all love the "old days." Especially the ones that are a part of our childhood. They are not only memories, but feelings. The feelings make the memory that much larger than life. Sports is one of the only places where that can happen.
When spring training camp finally opens, you know you have made it through another year, that your team really has a chance this season, and that life is still good -- as long as baseball games are close at hand.
I arrived early to a recent National Basketball Association (NBA) basketball game and immediately noticed the oddity of players on both teams, in addi...
Two years ago today, my dad passed away. He was 86 years old and his body finally succumbed to the wear and tear he inflicted on it with alcohol and c...
Before there was Walter Payton and Michael Jordan in Chicago as icons, there was Ernie Banks, and you couldn't get enough of him. His smile and enthusiasm and love of life and of people was something I had never experienced. Period.
Days fly by in our lives. But it is the memories such as were evoked in thousands like Mike and me upon the passing of Mr. Cub and those gathering to celebrate and honor him at the memorial service that are the salve making our later days even richer and more rewarding.