Checking into the Heartbreak Hotel

“You're a heartbreaker

Dream maker, love taker

Don't you mess around with me.”

 – Pat Benatar

Nothing can break your heart like a woman. Except sports, which can also snap your anterior cruciate ligament. So as I sit here icing my knee, pondering my upcoming surgery, I find the Detroit Tigers playing the Redsox on TV. The game is in Boston’s Fenway Park and my mind is instantly taken back to last October when the Tigers and Redsox played in the American League Championship Series.

Within nanoseconds of seeing the Tigers in Fenway, I remember Torii Hunter cartwheeling over the right field wall. And David Ortiz rounding the bases.

I grew up watching the Tigers and it has been refreshing to see them become perennial contenders after years of futility. They lost in the World Series back in ’06 and 2012, and last season they had another chance to bring a championship back to Motown for the first time since I was 16.

The Tigers won the first game against Boston in the ALCS and were cruising to victory in game 2 behind Cy Young winner Max Scherzer. I had been watching the action at a nearby restaurant with a buddy. The Tigers were winning 5-1 and Scherzer was cruising. I left for home in the bottom of the eighth and listened on the radio as the Redsox loaded the bases against the Tigers’ bullpen. I arrived home as “closer” Joaquin Benoit entered with two outs to face Ortiz. I texted a buddy back in Michigan, “Tell me that Ortiz isn’t going to hit a grand slam.”

“No way, only in Hollywood,” he wrote back.

Cue the soundtrack from “The Natural” because Ortiz promptly crushed a first-pitch change-up into the Boston bullpen. Hunter flipped over the wall trying to save the day, a Boston police officer became famous, and I threw my cell phone to Pacoima.

It was a heart-breaking loss. It was a defeat that makes my list of most heart-breaking losses (HBL) in my forty years of watching sports. I’m sure there are as many thrilling, come-from-behind victories in my sports-watching past, but I don’t remember those as clearly. It’s the painful ones that stick around to haunt me like the voice of former Celtic broadcaster Johnny Most. Memories of those defeats hurt like a dagger between the ribs. Or like a Robert Horry three-pointer.

A HBL is very easy to define. Obviously, it has to happen to a team you cherish. HBLs have to happen in important games such as the playoffs in baseball and basketball or the NCAA Tourney in college hoops. A top-10 match-up in college football counts as well. It has to happen in a game that was a certain victory. The Michigan basketball team has lost three NCAA Finals. Disappointing, yes. Heart breaking, no.

Sometimes it’s the opponent’s best player who breaks my heart, such as Ortiz against the Tigers, or Larry Bird in 1987. The Pistons were playing the Celtics in their first of five-straight Eastern Conference Finals. Tied at two games each in the Garden, Detroit made a key defensive stop with only seconds left and a one-point lead. I jumped off the couch in celebration, but before I could come down Isaiah Thomas made a lazy pass, Bird stole the ball, and Dennis Johnson made a buzzer-beating layup. The Pistons won game 6 at home before losing game 7 back in Boston leaving me wondering what could have been.

Sometimes the refs play a crucial role in an HBL. In ’88, the Pistons conquered the Celtics and then had the Lakers against the ropes in the finals. Detroit had a 3-2 lead with a chance to clinch with a game-6 win in the Forum. Thomas poured in 25 points in the third quarter on a bum ankle. With a one-point lead and 14 seconds to go, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar went up for a baseline sky-hook and was allegedly fouled by Bill Laimbeer. It’s play I’ve called “The Phantom Foul” ever since. Any non-Laker fan knows that it wasn’t a foul. Laimbeer went straight up. Kareem’s move takes him backward and up and over a defender in an arch-like movement. That’s why it’s called a “hook.” Kareem sank both free throws for the win. The Lakers won a close game 7 leaving me waiting for 1989. Yes, I’m still bitter.

And then there’s the time when the winning team comes up with a miracle to smash your heart into 106,427 pieces, which was the attendance in the Big House on September 24, 1994. This one doesn’t need a set up, but just in case: it was No. 7 Colorado vs. No. 4 Michigan in Ann Arbor. The Wolverines were coming off a last-second win at No. 5 Notre Dame and had a 26-21 lead with six seconds to go. Colorado QB Kordell Stewart heaved the ball from somewhere past Ypsilanti into a scrum of players at the goal line. It popped up and then dropped into the arms of receiver Michael Westbrook for a touchdown as time expired. I think I lay facedown on the carpet in my living room for an hour after that one.

The 20 years between Kordell’s and Big Papi’s heartbreaks weren’t all trouble-free. In 2005 Robert Horry delivered a sting as painful as that of Bird or Kareem. The Pistons were in overtime against the Spurs in the finals seeking back-to-back titles. The series was knotted at two apiece. Detroit was up by two and needed one last defensive stop to seal the win. With seven seconds to go a wide-open Horry sank a three over Ben Wallace’s afro to end it. San Antonio then won in 7.

The silver lining here is that HBLs are one play, one shot, one call, and one miracle away from being a sweet victory or a possible championship. Only good teams can drive you over the cliff of heartbreak. Bad teams don’t inflict pain.

And for that my heart appreciates the Detroit Lions. 

Ten New Names

Luis (left) and his older brother

Names.

 I used to be pretty good with names. But not any more. I guess I’m too old, or I’ve had too many

names to learn over 14 years of teaching. Having former students stop by my classroom always brings me joy. Often they’re taller than me. I’ll always recognize their faces. And I can usually, with a hint or two, remember their names. Now I’ve got 10 more names to learn. They are:

        Armando

Joana

Jose

Aida 

Carado

Pedro

Filipe

Paulo

Sozinho

Luis

These are the names of the first 10 children selected to live at Life for Mozambique’s second orphanage. In a few weeks I’ll be there, along with 11 others. The orphanage has been named the Melanie Center II and is located in the village of Chomoio, about five hours away from our base city of Beira. We have one day scheduled to bounce on the dusty, pothole-filled roads to officially inaugurate the MCII. What a celebration it will be. The construction is done, the paint is dry, and the beds have been bought. The first orphanage, the Melanie Center, is in Beira, and is named after our team’s co-leader, Melanie Viana. I think the MCII should be deemed the Alex Center, after her husband and our other co-leader. But I wasn’t given naming rights.

Keep in mind that both Melanie Centers are more than just orphanages. They are community centers that provide clothing, medical care, vocational and literacy training, and education for adults and children. In many of the stories below the children still have a mother. Yet, the kids were selected to live at the MCII because their situation was most dire. We’re talking the poorest of the poor. Taking some of the children to the MCII eases the pressure on the mother and still leaves her with a purpose. The kids at the MCII will still get to see their mothers. And their other siblings will be cared for, even if they don’t officially “live” in the MCII.

Armando and Joana

Armando, 11, and Joana, 3, are brother and sister. Their mother, Luisa has two other children. She is a widow and is HIV/AIDS positive. She was forced into an arranged marriage at the age of 15, which she describes as having a “future that was lost.” Her husband died from HIV/AIDS. To survive, she and Armando have had to clean houses and sell fish. Providing one meal a day for her children is considered a good day.

Armando has never been to school. Instead of playing and learning he tries to earn money by selling cakes in the local market. And little Joana, well, she was hungrier than any three-year-old should ever be.

Jose, Carado, and Aida

Jose, 12, Carado, 6, and Aida, 3, are siblings. Both of their parents died from HIV/AIDs. They were alone until an aunt took them in. But her grumpy husband said (in Portuguese), “No way.” The aunt couldn’t even feed them for fear of her husband. So the children scrambled back to their original home and lived there alone for eight months. They had no other family to call upon. They lived with fears and tears. But they were found by the government’s local affairs department and because of their critical condition were taken to the Melanie Center II.

Aida is HIV positive. She also suffers from acute anemia and is severely malnourished. She is too weak to play and she requires a great deal of sleep. Carado loves to play and to take care of his sister. Jose has never had the chance to go to school. Instead he’s had to struggle to provide for Aida and Jose. He hated seeing other children going to school or even playing. Instead, he went to the market to sell biscuits. Jose never leaves Aida’s side and doesn’t like to talk about what he and his siblings went through.

Pedro and Filipe

Pedro, 11, and Felipe, 7, have been raised by their widowed mother, Sara, along with their two younger sisters. Their father died from HIV/AIDS after a five-year sickness. He was unable to work while he was ill and Sara struggled to provide for the family before and after his passing. Earning enough for food is tough let alone for rent.

The social affairs department selected Pedro and Filipe for the MCII, easing the burden on Sara. “God is great,” said Sara, “He sent His angels to help us. I was completely without hope of seeing my children studying. I thank God for this opportunity.”

Paulo and Sozinho

Paulo, 8, and Sozinho, 5, are two brothers in a family of five children. Two others have been taken in by an uncle. Without trying to sound like a broken record, their stories are very similar to what’s above. A father lost to HIV/AIDS. A mother, Maria, working to make ends meet while hoping and praying for help and relief. “I just can’t believe it,” she said about the boys attending the MCII. “Now my cry is for my other children. I hope I will see them going to school and living well. God helped me, he saved my life.”

Luis

Luis is 12. His father is dead. His mother, Vitoria, is HIV positive and has taken in her brother’s four children, because he died from AIDs too. In all there are six children in a home so makeshift that it doesn’t keep out the rain. “I could never think my children would go to school one day and live a normal life. Because of my illness, I deprived my children from going to school,” said Vitoria. Even though Luis will be living in the MCII all six children will be receiving the care and education the MCII can give.

The MCII is set up to be smaller than the MCI. But it is full. Full with kids who can have a home, food, health care, and personal attention. Kids that can put on warm, clean clothes every day. Kids who can play instead of selling fish or biscuits. Kids who can dream of a new life. Kids who can go to school to learn how to read … and to learn how to write their names.

Paulo and Sozinho