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.
Ernie Banks died tonight. And in the summer green fields of heaven, they are playing baseball. Later on, I'll go listen to Steve Goodman sing "A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request." But not right now.
Banks lived on Chicago's South Side. He often commuted to Cubs home games on the L train. He had no choice. Though he was the biggest name and biggest draw the Cubs had, he could not buy a home or rent an apartment in the neighborhood surrounding Wrigley Field.
Selig's legacy is as follows: When baseball needed a strong commissioner, he was the game's nowhere man. When he did act, it was in the best interests of owners -- and not in the best interests of the game and its fans.
Mo'ne, caught the world by storm in the Little League World Series this past summer. She became the first Little League player ever to grace the cover of Sports Illustrated. Her jersey was inducted into the National Baseball Hall-of-Fame, and recently, she was named AP's "Female Athlete of The Year." But that's all a given -- you can read news-feeds for that. So let's take it a little deeper.
I'm told there must be 3,000 men and women playing the sport, all the way in the 90s; yup, into the 90s! So, coming from a baseball background, I wanted to play. Before anyone can play, one has to go through three separate evaluations and then be drafted. Sounds like MLB, huh?
Major League Baseball seems poised to admit its largest class into the Baseball Hall of Fame since 1936. Of those candidates for Cooperstown, fewer are generating as much debate as John Smoltz of the Atlanta Braves.
For the players of Major League Baseball, the World Series is the ultimate goal. For directors of MLB games on television, it's a career-crowning achievement. For two decades, two directors have been a perennial postseason dynasty.
The first thing you see when you enter Pete Silletti's office is the company logo. If you don't recognize the "you're in good hands" corporate art, it is spelled out in huge, shiny silver letters: Allstate.
We do well to define our ambition in order to gain the clarity of a baseball player who keeps his eye on the ball and home plate as his goal.