TAIPEI, Taiwan — The second I stepped onto Flight DL69 for what would turn into an exhausting trip here — first, I had hours-long layovers in Seattle and Minneapolis — I kept thinking about what awaited me. I was leaving staid Cleveland for a bustling metropolis with a loose understanding of how dissimilar this island nation was from anywhere else I’d
I hate waste, particularly when the waste is the result of governmental indifference. In Cleveland, the best example of that waste is League Park, which the city used over $6.3 million to save from demolition. The ballpark would be history like Shibe Park, Ebbets Field and Crosley Field if not for the hardheadedness of Councilwoman Fannie Lewis, who dreamed of
I suppose it was a good way to spend the last Sunday in 2024 when my choice was to go to a Browns game or sit home after church and watch other NFL teams play solid football. A friend, however, suggested I join him and another friend at a Harlem Globetrotters game. Hm-mmm, I thought that was an interesting idea.
MEXICO CITY — I covered WrestleMania III for The Detroit News in the ’80s, and no event I’ve ever written about excited me more. The Randy Savage-Ricky Steamboat match was as good as wrestling gets, and it wasn’t even the marquee event. I’m jaded. Pro wrestling was big back then, and I suppose it still is, particularly south of the
I received news Sunday night about an award I’m being given. No, I didn’t win a Pulitzer Prize, although I wouldn’t turn one down. Instead, I’m getting an award far more prestigious, because it’s coming from an organization that I’d like to think values the contributions of men (and women) who look like me. The Sam Lacy Pioneer Award is
I won't dwell on what the man did during a Hall-of-Fame football career, because O.J. Simpson destroyed whatever that legacy was in my mind when he and his sidekick Al Cowlings drove a Ford Bronco at a turtle's pace down a California highway with a parade of police cars behind them. Do you remember the sight? I didn't know then
No one among us is a saint — well, few of us are, anyway. Yet we all must stand tall against people who are the devil in fancy trappings. Too many wear such clothing. One of them is Jon Gruden, the misogynistic, homophobic and racist former coach of the Las Vegas Raiders. Gruden’s public persona didn’t match his private one,
Not a single option would have placated every person who called himself a fan of the Cleveland baseball franchise. For over a century, their team trudged across the U.S. with an image on its jerseys that demeaned a people. Trying to massage reality could never erase that its nickname — Indians — had outlived its racist yesteryear, so the organization
Major League Baseball might have lost forever a generation of Black boys and girls, and I know that all its bold talk about helping Generation Z’ers of color fall in love afresh with the sport hasn’t led to a real commitment of any sort. I voice such criticism after watching an NBC quiz show. Yeah, I’m leaning on a quiz
They played baseball Saturday afternoon at League Park. Two sandlot teams from the suburbs put the diamond to use, a rarity. For League Park, a $6.3 million ballpark in the Hough-Fairfax neighborhood, often goes unused, a brick-and-mortar symbol of lousy governance; it reflects how people without vision lord over all-things Cleveland. Folks who live in the city have seen this
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