Detroit is bust. Detroit is an idea. The city will live on in memories of the 1968 World Series, Gordie Howe and automobiles. Bankruptcy, or no, the Red Wings, Tigers, Lions and Pistons will play on.
You can't put a price on glory. Or maybe you can. Owners threaten to move and demand new arenas. In the late age of money, cynicism and American mobility, what does it mean to be the "home" team?
Is pain a means to grace? To clarity? Is it an "instrument for perfecting" ourselves? Where's the line between the instructive and the destructive? What are sports meant to teach?
On my way to the airport, I think of them flying home in the middle of the night. San Francisco in St. Louis, New York in Detroit, everyone everywhere and back again all at once on their way somewhere else.
If it wasn't the best sports day in history it was certainly one of the busiest. From tennis to soccer to baseball to tracks to hockey to basketball to boxing, June 9 had everything but football.
The week in review from death to life, from loss to win, from political metaphors to sports clichés.
Maybe it's just spring fever, but something strange is happening in sports. Andy Pettitte, Peyton Manning, Jason Kidd and other graybeards are defying the aging process.
Maybe it signifies nothing but the sound and fury of American commerce, but don't discount the collateral damage done when franchises move. Just ask fans of the Dodgers and Jaguars.
All-Star Weekend was full of sound and fury, and guess what it signified? That's right: A defensive nothingness. But it takes our man 72 thoughts to reach that furious conclusion.
Jeff MacGregor asked sports fans what they believe. This week, some of their answers. All of which, in their hundreds, were terrific.
If you're standin' on a corner in Winslow, Arizona, these days ... well, maybe it's best to keep your head down and stay put. Here's one writer's modest proposal about the new immigration law.
We're fat with sports right now: baseball, pro hoops, NHL playoffs, golf, the NFL draft next week. But are we happy? Can we really appreciate a season if it never ends?