ALERT: Mitch Albom has written his shittiest column ever

It finally happened. Mitch harnessed all of the ineptitude he could muster and unleashed possibly the worst piece of writing (piece of shit?) ever composed in the English language. After I'm done writing this, I'm going to Google-Translate Mitch's column into French and send it to a fellow Mitchologist in Toulouse to see if it can set records in multiple languages.

Mitch is at the height of his powers. This column is so much stupider than anything I thought he or anybody was capable of writing. It's absolutely breathtaking. So much so that I had to dust off the old blog (which is so 2005) to share my analysis.

You can read his "column" here, or, if you just ate or have a heart condition, see DeadSpin for the summary.

I find it interesting that while Mitch's alleged industry, journalism, is in massive decline, he thinks it’s a good idea to publish a poorly conceived, arrogant, elitist, and completely irrelevant rant about how underpaid, ill-treated service industry workers (many of whom aren't provided benefits like health care, a retirement account, or an undeserved couple of weekly column inches in a major newspaper) aren't serving him up his lattes with the quality to which he feels entitled.

It's shit like this that demonstrates what a phony he is. He often positions himself in his political columns as a friend of the working class – he completely undermines that sentiment here.

If he now seeks to be anointed as the second coming of Andy Rooney (and I think he clearly does), then his time would be better spent at least trying to develop cogent, insightful, and original arguments about how it’s Wall Street, Washington, and the media that are making our lives shittier. I am on the receiving end of customer service numerous times each day, and I have to say that it's not a big fucking deal to have to repeat myself once in a while. If Mitch finds himself constantly on the receiving end of poor service, then I'm gonna go out on a limb and suggest that the common link between all of these shitty interactions is Mitch Albom.

Perhaps service workers get distracted by your smug, shit-eating, entitled grin, and as a result fail to record to their short-term memories the precise length of the extension cord that you evidently can't find on your own.

I would also suggest knocking it off with the tired curmudgeonly clichés (“Loud music, television, and video games are ruining everything! The customer is always right!”). Dickhead.

If the biggest problem in your life is the quality of the customer service you receive, then you should probably be pretty fucking grateful, right? Didn’t you learn that from Morrie on a Tuesday? Or did you make millions by selling those timeless life lessons without having actually learned them yourself?

“Hey, Mitch.” 


“Yes?” 


“How are you able to write your columns so quickly and prolifically?” 


“Well, I most often use the trope of writing lots of imaginary dialogue between two people.” 


"Like this?” 


“Yes, exactly like this.” 


“Oh, I see. It really fills space and a second-grader is capable of doing it.” 


“Right!”


"Wow."


"I know! And after the dialogue, I throw in a few inane words of wisdom for the readers." 


“This is incredible.” 


“Yep!” 


“Hey, Mitch?” 


“Yes?” 


“Go fuck yourself.”


Yes, Mitch. You can go fuck yourself. Go fuck yourself...forever.

Third Anniversary

Friends, it's nearly upon us: the third anniversary of Mitch Albom is a Terrible Writer.

And what an amazing three years it's been! My team has worked tirelessly documenting Mitch's sins each and every single day for nearly 36 months (check the archives!). And, as you know, Mitch has been a bad, bad boy.

But I don't mean bad in the sense of the Bad Boys and the gritty, physical, defensive style that characterized the dominant Pistons that served Detroit under the administration of George "H.W." Bush. Guys like Bill "What Foul?" Laimbeer, Dennis "Worm" Rodman, John "Spider" Salley, "Dirty Uncle" Rick Mahorn, James "Big Buddha" Edwards, Vinnie "the Microwave" Johnson, and (to a lesser extent) Mark "the Waffle Iron" Aguirre were bad in the sense that they did not give a fuck--a characteristic that would later briefly be revived in a different profession in Detroit by Slim "M&M" Shady.

Those Pistons might've been "not bad" basketball players, but it would take a great deal of time to sift through the statistics to make that determination. So let's all just agree that they were Bad Boys.

Now, I know I've left out Isiah Thomas and Joe Dumars. There are two reasons for this. First of all, their nicknames sucked (Zeke and Jody, respectively). Secondly, they were good basketball players. They weren't bad in any meaningful way. Therefore, if their personalities had dominated the team, then we would've had the Good Boys, which may as well have been the Gay Boys, which I think would've been terrific. However, late-80s/early-90s Detroit wouldn't have been ready for it.

Back to Mitch. You see, he's bad in the sense that he's not good. He's not good at anything: he's not good at basketball, he's not good in not-giving-a-fuck (he gives-a-fuck?), and he's certainly not good at writing. In fact, he's a terrible writer.

While I feel that we've done a decent job exposing this truth to the world, there's still a lot of work to be done. Let's face it: despite our daily efforts, Mitch still has firm hold of his bully pulpit at that corporate rag excuse for a paper. And he's still somehow making a fortune publishing books about people dying and it being sad yet affirming for those of us who are still alive and foolish enough to fall for his macabre shenanigans. Who knows what else that would-be renaissance man has in the works?

I do know this:

• the Pistons are in the NBA Eastern Conference Finals
• the Red Wings are in the Stanley Cup Finals
• the Tigers have the second-highest payroll in major league baseball, which means I don't even have to check the standings to know that they're six games ahead in the AL Central
• the Lions have drafted enough wide receivers to assure that next year (or maybe the year after next or--at the very latest--the year after that) they will notch a Super Bowl because Charlie Batch can launch the ball to any part of the field--to any part of the field--and some stellar draft pick will be waiting there to catch it, cradle it, and run that baby back for six motherfucking points
• the Rockers are still redefining how outstanding soccer can be when it's played--wait for it--indoors!
  
• the Shock are pretty good (probably?)
• Detroit will probably be on the short list for 2016 Summer Olympics host cities
  

I know this: things are good in Detroit right now. From sports, to political enfranchisement in presidential nomination battles, to mayoral successes, to low crime rates, to world-class public education, and on down to the economy--Detroit is in a golden age. Nobody doubts this.

Therefore, we recommit ourselves to not letting Mitch ruin these things. That self-serving prick has let us down too many times. He's too busy researching his books by robbing graves and playing Weekend at Bernie's with corpses to give Detroit the attention it needs in these inspiring times.

Now, I know that I've occasionally missed a day or two on this blog. I want you readers to know that I always leave it in good hands and I'm sure my staff keeps the blog fresh and up to date. But now that I've taken a temporary leave of absence from Ron Paul's campaign to remake America as a land of freedom, I personally recommit myself to this blog. I will be reexamining his recent columns, books, television appearances, and whatever else he does when he's not trying to cash in on death at the expense of Detroit sports. And I'll report to you every day (starting some time in the next few days) on what I find.

Hey, Mitch: fuck you!

Hey, Mitch--maybe it's YOU who should retire!

What a fucking asshole. Once again, Mitch Albom is needlessly encouraging somebody to retire, and I can detect a faint sense of malice in his tone. Mitch was very quick and oddly passionate in his persuasive efforts to force Larry Brown to leave town, and now he's acting likewise regarding poor Jiri Fischer.

I suppose the ONLY thing it could be is that he wants SO much of the spotlight that he will use his bully pulpit to drive anybody--no matter how mediocre his or her popularity may be, no matter how small his or her threat to Mitch's celebrity may be--out of Detroit and out of the circles of fame.

Mitch--the brilliant writer/philosopher/physician/poet/theologian that he is(n't)--used his column today to TELL Jiri Fischer that playing hockey again would be equivalent to suicide.

I detect ulterior motivations.

Mitch clearly has delusions of grandeur. What qualifications does Mitch DoucheBag possess that legitimate his self-appointed role as doctor, spiritual advisor, and so forth?

Ooooooooooooooh, I'm Mitch Albom--I selfishly befriended an old, dying guy suffering from dementia just before his death so I could use my experience to write a cheesy, lame book that panders to idiots to make a fortune and increase my own celebrity--now I am an expert on dying and death!

I'm positive that Jiri Fischer doesn't give a fuck about what you think, nor does anybody who has attained a fourth-grade or higher reading level.

You just want Jiri out of hockey because you fear that one day he could be more beloved than you. Fuck you for your voice-of-God bullshit.

Because YOU are always so willing to give your unsolicited career/life advice to people, here is a little from me to you: retire. Seriously. You are terrible. You are a joke. You are a parody of a parody of a parody. You fit in the Al Roker category of importance to American popular culture. Nobody likes you (except for idiots). You would NOT be missed if you retired. Leave town. Stop writing. Now.

Nobody asked me, but I personally think Jiri Fischer should keep playing. You know why? Because it sounds like he wants to keep playing.

In fact, I think Vladimir Konstantinov should still be playing. I sort of suspect that Mitch has something to do with Vladdie's unnecessary retirement.

Mitch Albom is STILL a terrible writer, and I still hate him (even after all I've been through)

So, I just returned from an emergency five-month trip to the Democratic Republic of Tecala where I was dispatched to help monitor nationwide elections to the Suspensorio Nacional (the lower house of the ass-backwards nation's parliament). Things went well. And when I say "well," what I mean is that my team and I were unable to prevent the corrupt big-city jefes (that's Spanish for bosses) from rigging dozens of large polling sites in favor of the nefarious Partido de Jugo Gástrico (the PJG--a very far-to-the-right political party).

I'm so fucking disappointed. It was bad enough to spend 1/68th of my life in Tecala--a country that smells like a wad of used band-aids--but what really fucking stings is to find out that everything I tried to do for those poor people was for nothing. NOTHING! It is clear what is in store for Tecala: the continuation and expansion of a violent, anarchistic narcoeconomy that is supported by and helps to perpetuate narcoterrorism. For fuck's sake, I have yet to find out if that Peter Bowman guy was ever rescued from those soccer-loving (no, I'm not going to stoop to their level and call them fútbol-loving), coke-snorting, Juan-Valdez-coffee-drinking sons of bitches.

What did I get out of this experience? Jack fucking squat, that's what. The pay, which I spent nearly all of on bootleg DVDs, was terrible. Oh, and those Tecalan bootleg DVDs? Ummm, there's no English language option on them. Now I'm stuck with about 800 titles that are useless to me (and I also didn't realize that they were pirated by Tecalan children sneaking 1980s-technology video cameras into smoke-filled movie theaters).

My point is this: if these are of any use to you, just name your price. I'm serious. Just to give you an idea, I have cool flicks such as: Just Friends, Monster-In-Law, and Stealth. All of these movies look fucking sweet, but no hablo español.

Hey, Tecala....FUCK YOU!

Okay, enough about that. As you know, I don't generally comment on politics, my personal life, or my work. So now I will catch back up on Mitch Albom.

Mitch Albom is a shithead. He just wrote a dreadfully insignificant article about John Lennon. To attempt to lend himself credibility, Albom notes that as a child he dreamt of becoming a musician. Instead, he became the worst writer of both the 20th and 21st centuries--quite a distinction. I can't decide if I'd rather have him be a terrible writer or a terrible musician. All I know is that he is terrible at everything.

I also know FOR A FACT that if John Lennon were alive today, he would write a song called "Mitch Albom is an Asshole, and I Hate Him (And Peace is Good)".

Put that in your pipe and smoke it, fuckwad.

Larry Brown should stay with the Pistons just so Mitch Albom will be wrong

Mitch Albom has predicted that Larry brown will leave the Pistons. While I tend to agree, I hereby call upon Larry to stay with the Pistons just so Mitch can be wrong.

After reading the rest of the column, I think I am going to rename this blog Mitch Albom is a Fucking Asshole (mitchalbomisafuckingasshole.blogspot.com).

Want to know why? How about because he has the gall to write a column pissing and moaning about how Larry Brown has it so good because he can probably make a lot of money by being disloyal to the Pistons or whatever.

Here are some terrific (by terrific I mean stupid) excerpts:

The Pistons ultimately have to make the move -- they can't wait forever -- and if they fire Larry, they are on the line for the remaining $18 million of his salary.

Oh, if only our lives worked like this!

And:

But if Larry takes a spot in Cleveland -- as a "consultant" let's say, at $1 million a year -- then the Pistons have to make up the difference. Larry gets paid like a full-time coach, and lives like a part-time consultant.

Are we having fun yet?

Mitch Albom, you're a fucking asshole, and here's why: you make a shitload of money by writing books coated in sugary shit that appeal to the lowest possible denominator. You're one of those authors who have the exact opposite of integrity--you figure out what cliche, sappy drool you can write in the shortest amount of time with the least amount of effort that will sell best, usually from the bookshelves at Wal-Mart. Who are you to criticize anybody for making a few selfish bucks while lacking perhaps the best intentions? Are you saying your shit doesn't stink? Well, it DOES stink--I can smell it an ocean away. Eew. Gross.

Face it, most people who buy your books are of an abhorrent but (unfortunately) fast-growing demographic: overweight, white, hick idiots who graduated high school (so they sort of know how to read) but have done very little else with their lives. They are depressed about their boring, stagnant Midwestern fucked-up family lives, and they occasionally read a part of your column or see you on television in between watching NASCAR and eating at Old Country Buffet, so they buy your book from the prominent end-cap display thinking it can't be a bad idea to buy it because other people who look like them do so.

And the best part is, 88% of people who buy your book aren't buying it because they want to read it--they buy it because they forgot their grandmother's birthday, and they know that the only way grandma will buy them a Christmas present come December is if they show some sort of lame generous gesture toward her. So they buy your book and usually send it to her in the mail or they have Uncle Bippy bring it to her when he goes over to her house to "borrow" some groceries (milk, ice cream, coffee, bourbon, etc.).

So anyway, Mitch, your column blows today, and you're so ridiculously full of shit. Yes, Larry Brown is probably a selfish asshole. But so are you. At least Larry doesn't embarrass himself by writing and selling such shameless shit.

By the way, I hereby nominate Larry Brown to fill the Supreme Court vacancy.

Balls.

Oh, man. It's been a rough few days. First of all, it's been difficult to even click on Mitch's columns these days, knowing that the Pistons lost. It's one thing to endure the pain of Mitch Albom's poor writing--but it's almost too much to withstand it while dealing the the depression of the Pistons' failure. As always, Mitch's columns have provided no insight into what happened--instead he just measures the team's collective state of mind using his his own imagination and nothing else. Fucking retard. I can't even deal with it. What's worse, is that I have to deal with knowing that the Stones lost while also being aware that we are progressing even closer to the possible first airing of that horrible TV show being written and produced by Bitch. Goddammit, it's gonna be so bad. But I will predict this: it either NEVER gets picked up by a network (other than maybe USA, as if that counts), and it if does it will be panned and then off the air in weeks.

I just found out that Mitch wrote even more crappy songs for another television movie--this one was in 1995 for a movie called Falling for You starring the unwatchable Jennie Garth. However, it did have Billy Dee Williams in it, therefore it must have been excellent. If anyone has a copy of it, please send it to me. Man, I wonder what those songs are like.

So, following Game 7 last week, I had to go away on business to Kenya. They told me it is a hell of a country. If by "hell of a country" they meant "hot, poor shithole," then I adamantly agree. The trip was a bust--our deal with the Estate Kenya Coffee people TOTALLY fell through. Fucking idiots. I know it's not the politically correct thing to say, but I really hate Africa. It was a longass trek on camel back, all for nothing. Very few friendly people. The Gods Must Be Crazy is bullshit--don't watch it, don't believe it. I can't wait to leave this stupid place.

But, there was one interesting story from my time in Kenya. I saw this old guy absolutely pummel the shit out of this bigass leopard with his bare hands. It was fucking awesome. Everything else sucked.

Anyway, I'm back now so I'll take a look at what Mitch Assclown is up to.

The only thing I have to say before I do that and respond later, is that I think President Bush delivered an AMAZING speech last night. Well, I was actually playing this game where you drink everytime he says "September 11th" or "bin Laden" and you drink twice if he says it without logically connecting it to the war in Iraq, so needless to say I was drinking a LOT. Therefore, perhaps my judgment of the speech is skewed. All I know is that after a bottle of Petrone Silver, it seemed like a great speech--so full of troops-supporting, terrorist-hating good times.

By the Way, Mitch Albom is a Craptastic "Writer"

No posts lately. I've been paralyzed with crippling depression from all of the powerful, well-written, and at times poignant hate-mail. I haven't gotten out of bed in four days, and I may crawl right back. When it's me against Mitch, it's really me against the world. The man is the embodiment of love and all that is good and true. I am scum.

Well, maybe I'm not the only one. Apparently there is a great new book out:

The Five People You Meet in HELL by Rich Pablum. I highly reccomend it. I've been reading it while I've been passed out in a bathtub ever since drinking a handle of Jack and half a fifth of Jameson on Bloomsday...man, what a great holiday. Ain't nothin' but nothin' but right.

Okay, I'll post more later, but here is what's been making me sad (my e-mail box).

: - (

DONALD LUKE
lukespack@verizon.net
You are a dumb motherfucker
Fri 06/17

Ohhh, lukespack@verizon.net, you make me sad. :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :(

And then there was this in the comments...

The Bigger Show said...
Anonymous wrote: "Hehe... things to note:
1. "...WAY too much positive feedback." Thank you for telling us how to read. Not way too much, WAY too much. If you much do that..."

I love how you took the time to criticize the writing on "Mitch Albom is a Genius" but didn't take the FEW SECONDS needed to proofread your attack of it. "If you MUCH do that"... I think you meant "must", buddy.

Mitchaholic is a fan of Mitch Albom so obviously he'd be a shitty writer. But at least the "mistakes" you pointed out were of form, not function. If you much criticize others in the future, I suggest you begin to re-read your posts before clicking that publish button.

Oh, and Morrie? You're a totally talentless asshole.

The Bigger Show

Ouch. The Bigger Show makes me feel very small. I'm gonna go throw myself into a river now.

Oh, and by the way--a special shout-out to an equally depraved, deranged, bad, bad man who pointed out that Mitch overuses the phrase "by the way..." to stall for time on his fucking horrible radio show. By the way, Mitch is not my friend.

By the way, I'm thirsty.

Mitch Albom Unveils New Book

Best selling author/artist Mitch Albom--whose writing talent knows no equal--is once again at work on a brilliantly insightful masterpiece of a novel that will no doubt move you to tears, laughter, and pure ecstasy. It is safe to say that if you do not buy this book, read it, share it, and love it, then you have no soul. If you criticize this work of art, your heart is black and rotten, and your hate children and puppies and senior citizens. Yes, this is truly Mitch's best work yet.

The almost completed eighty-five page novel (double-spaced and in fourteen-point font with pages possessing margins of two full inches), will be titled The People Who Move Us, and it is about a gruff, blue-collar Detroit repairman named Mickey who maintains the People Mover--the fabulous fully-automated light rail system that transports literally tens of Detroiters each day to and from all of Motor City's hot business and entertainment spots.

On a bitter cold winter morning after Mickey catches his hoe of a wife in bed with a washed up has-been pitcher for the Tigers named Willie Fernandez, the distraught middle-aged working class hero shows up to work with a bottle of Johnny Walker Red and a shiny new crack pipe loaded with a nice big rock.

Mickey--who is (by the way) black--is tanked, baked, and out of his mind fucked-up, and he stumbles onto the elevated track of the powerful People Mover in search of who he is and what is important to him. But he can find nothing except the bottom of the bottle, and he takes a nap on the tracks. The beast of a train lurches along, toward Mickey, guaranteeing him a gruesome, lonely death. But he regains his senses just as the train is upon him. However, all he can do is close his eyes, fold his hands, and let out a prayer to a God that he is not quite sure is even above him. He pleads for salvation and mercy from the angels in Heaven, for he knows there is too much left for him to do on Earth--too many people he needs to tell how he feels.

The People Mover slices off both of Mickey's legs and mangles his face, rendering his physical appearance freakish, making the portly, graying man an unlovable monster.

But the People Mover does not do damage to his soul--in fact, if anything, the newly paraplegic Mickey feels more beautiful and full of life as his piping hot blood spews from his body, raining down onto the bums and others who pass underneath the elevated track of the People Mover.

After experiencing a life-affirming moment of clarity and nirvana, Mickey passes out only to come to in a Detroit hospital surrounded by an unlikely cast of characters who have come to his side. There is his crack dealer, Hank, who offers him a puff from the pipe--Mickey politely declines, as he now knows there is a better way to get high. There is also Stacey, his estranged illegitimate daughter who he is reunited with. She shares stories about her job at the front register at Catfish Corner as well as how she moonlights as a $20 street whore along Michigan Avenue. Finally, there are the people who saved him: Lt. Jimmy Jameson, an Iraq veteran who has returned from the Middle East without his left arm, but now heroically protects the streets of Detroit and luckily got to Mickey before certain death set it; and, of course, the young, arrogant Dr. Mahmood is there to explain to Mickey how lucky he is to survive (or unlucky in the sense that his medical bills are fucking out of control, and that Mickey will surely never walk or get laid again).

Mickey grows close to this motley crew, and discovers that it's not only the People Mover that can bring a low-down Detroiter to new and amazing heights, but sometimes it's simply people that do that.

Mitch's Column is Really, Really Bad Today

Are you fucking kidding me? More role-playing? In Mitch's latest perverse shit-storm, he engages in more kinky-retarded make believe, this time playing doctor to Rip Hamilton. I still don't know where he gets off regularly using his column to chastise the Pistons in such childish form, but all I know is that he clearly gets off on it.

Seriously, what a fucking lame concept:

"Doc, you gotta help me."

"What's the problem, Rip?"

"It's kind of embarrassing. I need something removed."

"What is it? A polyp? A mole?"

"This."

"Oh, my. That's an entire person."

"I know. They call it Bruce Bowen. It won't come off."

"Have you tried the normal methods?"

"Oh, yeah. I tried shaking it off. Tried juking it off. Tried scraping it off against Rasheed Wallace's hip, against Ben Wallace's backside."

"Won't budge?"

"Nah. It's nasty."

Congratulations, you fucking idiot, you can use quotation marks. Just because you put such punctuation around short, informal conversational sentences does not mean that you write impressive dialogue. It's certainly not funny or insightful, and it absolutely does not make for a good sports column. How the hell this passes for journalism, let alone award-winning sports commentary, I do not understand--it is a deep, dark motherfuck.

Save that kind of shit for your Oprah book-of-the-month series. Asshole.

It's time to perpetuate some of the better comments we've had.

From Jackie:

Even if one agrees with his overall point, it's just a really bad column, like all his stuff. He just can't present a sound argument. Week after week, Albom seems to come up with these positions off the cuff, then scribbles out whatever's in his head at that moment.

He never seems to understand the bigger context of a given topic -- i.e., he's shallow and doesn't have critical-thinking skills. He never seems to have a grasp on any of the standard arguments that have come before -- i.e., he's not very well-read. And he never seems to have a sense for anticipating (and thus preempting) potential rebuttals of his points -- i.e., he's a poor debater and doesn't belong on the op-ed pages of a major metro daily.

In other words, Mitch Albom seems to suck.

Agreed.

From Anonymous (most likely Mitch Albom or his intern who writes at least as well as him, if not better):

On this site ppl seem to think its cool to think Albom isn't a good writer, but he is. He is. If he wasn't he wouldn't have a job or a fanbase. That's a free market at work. Yes there are beter writers, Jackie but Mitch is still a good one. And btw no, no hate mail from me, I think we all know when we're being baited, Morrie.

I'll let another anonymous respond in the form of a bitch-slapping:

The free market certainly determines who and what are successful. So you're correct on that count, obviously.

But you've made a logical jump by asserting that the high quality of Albom's writing is the particular reason that he has a job and fanbase. That's not necessarily so. His success and employment status could stem from any number of other factors.

Your logic is akin to the following:

1. Britney Spears is a singer.
2. Britney Spears operates within a free market.
3. Britney Spears is popular.
4. Therefore, Britney Spears is a good singer.

My own take on the matter is that Albom's writing is the reason for his success. But it's not because he writes well. It's because he writes in a certain way -- specifically, by pandering to the lowest common denominator. His rhetoric could be ripped to shreds by the typical high-school debate team member.

It's one thing if he's writing about sports, which doesn't demand some grand logical consistency or sharp critical-thinking faculties. It's another thing when he's given the space to present commentary about social and cultural issues.

There's nothing wrong with such pandering, in and of itself. But the fact that such pandering has earned popularity for Albom doesn't mean it's automatically "good writing," unless you're using a different definition of the word "good."

Albom's column on Sunday was a perfect example of his non-sports work. As noted above, it makes a rudimentary argument for a really shaky proposition. There are so many better thinkers out there, and many of them are much, much better than Albom at expressing their thoughts. So it is worth saying again... Albom does not deserve to have that space on Sunday. The stuff is insulting to anybody with half a brain. It should be utterly embarrassing to the Detroit Free Press.

Well said.

I'm hungry.

A World Without Mitch

I know what all of you are thinking--Morrie S. is washed up, afraid to come out and speak the truth about Mitch Assclown. Well, you're wrong. The truth is, a dingo kidnapped my eight-week old stepson, and I had to get the posse together to exact revenge on the dingo community. We set out to fuck up the livelihood of the dastardly dingos by destroying the smaller animals they dine on, thereby disrupting the food chain. And you know what? Mission accomplished. Granted, we were unable to recover the missing child, but revenge is indeed sweet.

At the same time, Mitch does not have a column today. We can all imagine what it would be like if he did, however. Melodramatic language about the Pistons' having their backs to the wall sprinkled throughout a truly lame Mitch Albom pep talk. As if anybody cares what he thinks. Goddamn, he's so full of shit. I am waiting for some hate mail or postings by actual fans of Mitch's writing--the truth is, NOBODY actually thinks he's a good writer. He's slept his way to the top, particularly with those who reward his alleged journalistic skills. Fucker.

But he did write an excellent column yesterday, wearing the hat of a media critic--he's one to talk, after his excellent ethical shortcomings have been exposed. What an arrogant sonofabitch. Mitch laments the lame, superficial, shitty media culture in which he is a beneficiary. You don't like the shallow, slanted 24-hour news cycle full of meaningless, cheesy, talentless hack "journalists"? Then step down!!! As much as I hate your novels, your radio program, and your other pathetic endeavors, I would settle for you resigning from the Detroit Free Press. Seriously, what the fuck is he doing with all this grandstaning about how bad the media is these days? Just because you write for a paper and not a cable news network, you're not a part of it? You are absolutely a part of it. The WORST part of it, especially with language like this:

Maybe I'm just getting older. But I'm not sure everybody knowing two minutes of everything is a goal to which humans should aspire. There's a value to smallness, to villages that are not global. There's also a value to life's mystery. To saying "I wonder what's happening across the planet" without having a machine you think can tell you.

Pretentious bag of douchery.

That's what I'd like to ponder. How world our world be if there had never been a Mitch Albom? What if some powerful man in the future created a half-man, half-machine asskicker, let's call it a Terminator (T-800 or T-2000), that could travel back in time and stop Mitch even before he began? Man, life would be good. I'd still have some enamel left on my teeth, for I wouldn't have vomited uncontrollably day after day after reading his sentimental bullshit. Life would be good. All WoJo, all the time. He's the man.

Read his column, write him some hate mail, and keep watching out for Jon Voight to fall victim to the Mitch Albom curse. Jack Lemmon, rest in peace. You didn't deserve the fate you fell at the hands of Mitch Albom.

P.S. Out of appreciation for equal time, you can write me hate mail too.

Fun Facts About Mitch Albom

#1 His column today will get your gastric juices flowing. It's truly awful--the motif this time is the use of the hackneyed sports expression "X vs. the world." There are the usual amount of sentence fragments (more than twenty), crap pop-culture references, a RIDICULOUS amount of rhetorical questions (twelve, by my count), and plenty of cute (possibly racist) references to the international melting pot that is the San Antonio Spurs. You're fucking hilarious, Mitch, especially the shit about Beano (thinly veiled fart jokes about a Slovenian basketball player named Beno Udrih). Really clever, pal.

#2 He is such an excellent writer that he wants to teach YOU how to write like him. Truly fascinating insights.

#3 Remember all of those creepy similarities between Lincoln and Kennedy? Well, there are also a surprisingly large number of similarities between Richard Nixon and Mitch Albom as pointed out by Edward Champion. Perhaps it shouldn't be TOO surprising, since both suffer from ethical troubles and both made piss-poor attempts at apologizing. For those of you who haven't read Albom's apologies for his shittiness, do check it out--an uncanny similarity to Nixon's "Checkers" speech. Contrite much? Yeah, no.

#4 We all know Mitch sucks at writing and at life, but did you know he also is a shitty songwriter/lyricist? As reported on www.Albom.com:

An accomplished songwriter and lyricist, MITCH ALBOM wrote the song "Cookin' For Two" for a television movie directed by Arnold Schwarzenegger that aired in the mid-1990's.

Wow. I have NOTHING to say about that one.

Mitch's Column Really Blows Today

I can't even deal with him today. I've had it.

Here's my impression of how Mitch Albom would write a column about American Idol. Sadly, it took me about four minutes to write. What's even more depressing, is if Mitch wrote this, he would win all kinds of awards and praise. It's really fucking bizarre.


MITCH ALBOM: The beauty and the Bice

Thursday, May 26, 2005

BY MITCH ALBOM
FREE PRESS COLUMNIST

With the face of a Barbie doll and a versatile voice of an angelic country star, Carrie Underwood gave it her all. Channeling the warmth and love of her Oklahoma upbringing, Underwood sang her heart out.

She’s more than a little bit country.

Week after week, Bo Bice swaggered on stage and defied expectations and shocked fans as his Greek God hairdo was accompanied by heavenly rock vocals. Back in sweet home Alabama, his family and newfound groupies cheered on the biggest dog of all underdogs as he sang his soul out.

He’s more than a little bit rock ‘n’ roll.

It was a battle that pitted beauty against the beast. And much like the Disney anti-hero, the Bice beast turned out to have a heart of gold.

But he also has a soul of rock.

Heart and soul. Rock ‘n’ roll.

But it wasn’t time for a heavy metal Cinderella story. It wasn’t time for an underdog.

It was time for heart to win.

America's Idol. America's sweetheart.

It was the time for Underwood.

Underdog pitted against Underwood.

She won using what wins. Talent.

She’s so much more than a little bit country.

This is not to say that Bice does not have substantial talent, or even less talent than Underwood. With the exception of Manilowesque heartthrob Clay Aiken, Bice unleashed more talent, malleability, and class than any previous American Idol runner-up.

He’s so much more than a little bit rock ‘n’ roll.

Indeed, both idols have inked big league record deals, with Bice even outselling Underwood in Amazon.com preorders. Nobody will deny that they will both be pop culture forces to be reckoned with.

Underdog and Underwood.

Beauty and Beast.

Beauty and Bice.

As Bice rejoins his southern rock band and rocks the socks off kids at bigger gigs than he’s ever done before, he’ll never shed himself of his Idol experience.

He may not be the American Idol, but he’s more than a little bit rock ‘n’ roll.

He is rock ‘n’ roll.

As Underwood joins Idol royalty Kelly Clarkson, the fat guy, and that other girl, she’ll charm America’s hearts with her homegrown talent for years to come. But she knows she barely wrestled the Idol crown from a formidable beast. From Bice. The big dog.

But she also now knows that she’s so much more than a little bit country.

She is the American Idol.

Contact MITCH ALBOM at 313-555-1111 or mitchalbomblog@yahoo.com. He is a terrible, terrible writer. He's also a pompous douchebag, an ethically challenged dickhead, and a scab to boot. Oh, and he's quite overrated. He will sign copies of his god-awful opus "The Five People You Meet in Heaven" for Father's Day on June 12 -- 12:30 p.m. at Borders in Southland Mall in Taylor -- and on June 18 -- 11:30 a.m. at Borders in Birmingham, 2 p.m. at Barnes & Noble in Northville and 4:30 p.m. at Borders Express at Great Lakes Crossing in Auburn Hills. However, nobody will be there. Oh, some old people in diapers will attend--field trip for the old folks' home. Don't read his columns, buy his books, listen to his radio show, or support any of his public appearances or other ill-advised projects. He fucking sucks.

Pistons = Awesome; Mitch Albom = Teabagger

Seriously, Mitch Albom almost RUINS the joy of the Pistons fucking up mongoloid Shaq and company when he writes such a lame, piss poor column. He dishonors us all. How does this guy win "journalism" awards. Shit, man.

As always, he thinks a refrain or two sprinkled out throughout the column will endear readers. But I don't know anybody who actually would read the whole thing in its entirety. The only people I know who like Mitch Assclown are mentally handicapped (Shaq?).

Anyway, I tried skimming his column today but got violently angry very quickly, and ended up reading The Superficial's take on Russell Crowe rightly kicking some ass. Stupid fucking concierge.

This makes me think a few things. First of all, Russell Crowe should coach the Pistons next year when Larry Brown leaves. Secondly, the Free Press should replace Mitch Albom's journalistic diarrhea and put in more celebrity gossip. There is more obvious talent in one sentence on The Superficial than there is in the HISTORY of Mitch Albom's pointless, sappy drivel.

OH, the most important thing to discuss today is the KICKASS letter (third letter down) to the Freep from some dude named Kyle Given of Birmingham (we'll forgive him for being white and rich). He throws down this quote: "It's not unkind to suggest that Mitch Albom mental-prepping Big Ben for his nose-up with the Diesel was absurd."

Damn right, Kyle. I appreciate your ability to keep it real, but language of a foul variety would've been more effective in expressing your point. Nice work, anyhow. Let's keep up the anti-Mitch letters to the Freep, people.

Shit, I have to go do something (feed the bonobos). But to summarize, Mitch = intolerable teabagger, Russell Crowe = twenty-first century Jesus Christ, Rasheed Wallace = Your Daddy, Shaq = Terri Schiavo without all the tubing.

Mitch Albom is NOT the voice in Ben Wallace's head, and his column STINKS of mediocrity

Okay, people are getting impatient for a new posting. I would LOVE to post over the weekend, but I do not have access to the Internet at home because I am very poor. I have to wait until I can come to work. Normally, I would post SOMETHING by 10am, but my employers actually gave me something urgent to do right when I got here. It's like, what the fuck? They pay me to BE HERE--not to actually do work for them. In fact, let me thank my employers right now for in a sense financing and supporting this blog--thank you. Sorry about coming in late so much.

Before I launch in to Mitch's monstrosity today, I should give you more background about myself now that I have started to expose my life a bit. I currently reside in Equatorial Guinea. It's a terrific life, if you like former Spanish colonies in West Africa slightly smaller than Maryland referred to as a "constitutional democracy" even though its leader, President Obiang Nguema Mbasogo, has ruled the country by suppressing the civil liberties of all opposition since seizing power from his uncle twenty years ago. I don't know, I just like it here. Yep, I'm in the oil game. I know that sounds glamorous, but don't be fooled--I'm more of an office monkey. I just sit here, speaking my pidgin English to the Bioko, Rio Muni, and other ethnic groups who do the dirty work here. I mean, yeah, there are a lot of American and European bosses here, but they don't talk to me much. I sit in the basement, and I'll tell you, it's fucking hot here. Lots of flash floods to deal with as well.

Anyway, ever since the New York Times had the Jayson Blair scandal, I decided that the only American paper worth reading was the Detroit Free Press. I am trying to continue, but you know what, this Mitch Albom guy is really starting to piss me off. In fact, when I'm done writing this I'm going to read his weekend shitstorms and talk about those a bit. And oh, we will talk more about his other projects. God, I hate him.

Here's today's column (in LINKED form so we can end this debate about me reproducing Mitch's columns in blog form--although I might start doing that again to spark a lawsuit so I can go to jail over this...I would gladly do it as a form of civil disobedience).

So, Mitch, you're the voice in Ben Wallace's head? You mean to tell me that the voice inside the head of a 6'9", 240lb, African-American, fro-sporting, ass-kicking, shot-blocking mass of manliness, toughness, and basketball skill is a dumb little twerp named Mitch Albom?

I don't fucking think so. Believe me, Ben Wallace has NOT read Tuesdays With Morrie. Ben Wallace would step on Morrie's fat head while reaching into his chest cavity to pull out his black heart, jump through the air, and dunk it in for two points...and the foul (he would miss the free throw, but it's cool). He would then grab his nuts as all the rich white people in Auburn Hills go crazy.

And he certainly wouldn't read The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Ben Wallace does not believe Heaven exists--he is going to Valhalla to party with Vikings. That's right, motherfucking Vikings.

So, face it, you're NOT the voice in his head. EVER. And NOBODY appreciates the second line in your cheesy, lameass column today: "Sorry for keeping you up all night." Ben Wallace is NEVER kept up all night by men. He is kept up all night by BITCHES.

Good God, Mitch--your column sucked today. I'm the voice in your head telling you to shut the fuck up, resign, retire, go away.

More to come shortly...

URGENT: Dickhead is producing a TV show

This is going to be the WORST TV show ever. It is going to make Walker, Texas Ranger look ingenious.

MITCH INKS TV PILOT FOR CBS AND DREAMWORKS

Mitch Albom has written a one hour drama that CBS hopes to broadcast next fall. The series centers on the media war between a newspaper and a TV station in modern day Philadelphia. The characters deal with the power, stress, and enormous ethical tussles that come with being the keepers of the news - and of course, there is a love triangle - as the series' lead newspaperman is smitten with his old flame, now a TV anchorwoman. Each week will deal with one day in the life of these colorful people.

The lead character will be played by Gil Bellows, the former star of "Ally McBeal." Dreamworks and producer Gary David Goldberg ("Spin City", "Family Ties") are Mitch's partners and will co-produce the project. Stay tuned for more updates on the actual filming.

There is SO much to make fun of about this, especially the "ethics" angle. Goddammit, it's going to be SO non-edgy and lame that I'm almost excited for it. No, I'm excited for the first-season DVD to come out in a few years. I hope Mitch throws down some commentary. Such a renaissance man. Such an asshole.

Oh, and here's the guy playing the lead role (who no doubt is supposed to be like Mitchie):

Confession: I AM Drew Sharp

Mitch's column today is full of shit. As always, he's very clever and dramatic. The Pistons actually won, he doesn't know what he's talking about. Douchebag.

See below for the excellent comment to which I will now respond.

I've been outed...I've been outed by somebody who uses the handle "Total-Realty". I am shamed.

Yes, it's me, Drew Sharp. Oh, how I hate Mitch Albom.

PSYCHE! It's actually WOJO!!! You know, Bob Wojnowski--the without a doubt GREATEST sports writer of this or any generation. Suck it, Mitch. You too, Total-Realty.

Okay, let's be serious. Am I a struggling sports columnist? No. I don't even like sports. I just hate Mitch Albom. That's the thing--because I don't like sports, I would have no reason to hate Mitch if he hadn't started writing SHITTY books that could only be admired by Oprah fans.

Fine, I'll come clean. I AM indeed a struggling sports columnist. Fuck.

Don't you just LOVE the idea of a struggling sports columnist? Awesome.

Next, Total-Realty got all P.C. on our asses--leaving open the possibility of me, Morrie, being a man OR a woman. Dude, women don't know ANYTHING about sports--so how could I be a woman? If I were a woman, my blog would be about baking pies. Or it would be about my feelings. Or it would be about the meaning of love and life--oh wait, that's what Mitch Albom writes about. He's quite effeminate, now that I think about it.

Then Total-Realty, who is a struggling real estate agent in Inkster, used the word "butt" when I THINK he meant "but". Common mistake, pal--as a GREAT writer myself, I noticed that.

Anyway, I'm over it. BUT, Total-Realty, I DEFY you to defend Mitch's non-sports writing. While I do believe his sports columns are laced with smagma, it is his non-sports writing that really is embarrassingly bad. Will you stand here and defend "Tuesdays With Morrie" and "The Five People You Will Get Handjobs From"? If so, I will give you the public forum here to do so. But beware, should you fail in your endeavor, you will become the laughing stock of Inktown and you may well never sell a Shacktown duplex again...


Total-Realty said...
I have a feeling that the author of this supposed blog is in all actuality a struggling sports columnist himself (or herself?). It is so sad, to create a blog where you can whine about someone who is actually successful, and meanwhile you toil away writing quickies to the local paper about the local grade-school sports team.

Mitch Albom isn't perfect butt he's the greatest sports writer of his generation. yOu would do well to emulate him rather than attack him if you ever hope to become half as successful as him.

By the way is you're name Drew Sharp?

7:30 PM

Thursdays with Morrie Schwarzenegger

There's so much Mitchiness to cover today. His column today about Lindsey Hunter of the Pistons is really, really bad. So bad that I'm not going to even talk about it.

One Mitch-hater suggested I criticize Mitch's shitty non-sports column from last weekend called If you criticize U.S., you must criticize them where he criticized Amnesty International for criticizing the USA. Admittedly, Amnesty International was a bit melodramatic and exaggerated quite a bit so that the report would get more press. I mean, I generally agree with their report, but clearly they went a bit too far...

But you know what? If Mitch is AGAINST Amnesty's report, then I am automatically and enthusiastically FOR it. I now agree, Gitmo is the "Gulag of our times". Fuck you, Mitch. I love it when you assume the role of level-headed, populist pundit in your columns. The only reason you get to write about these issues is because the Free Press is full of shitty writers and they need to fill up as much space as possible. Since you're such an arrogant dick, they can ALWAYS call on you to be an expert on any given topic. But your opinions (especially when not sports-related) are always full of such grandstanding and self-righteousness that it makes me want to heave. You are out of control.

I feel that Mitch is in NO position to criticize anybody. He shouldn't criticize Larry Brown, the Pistons, Amnesty International, John Kerry, George W. Bush, Lou Gehrig's Disease, death, and so forth. You know why? Because Mitch Albom has no journalistic integrity. He exaggerates, he lies--so back off Amnesty International, man. At least Amnesty hasn't written any shitty, sugary, overly sentimental pieces of crap. I'd rather read about the USA causing the "Gulag of our times" even if it's an exaggeration to draw attention to a serious human rights problem than read a book about an old guy dying. Guess what? Everybody dies. Morrie was lucky that he lived to be OLD rather than get cut down in his prime. Boo hoo. And I'd rather read the Amnesty report and other things that criticize America's treatment of suspected terrorists than read Mitch's phony and lame opinions. For those of you who are wondering, yes, I did read "Tuesdays with Morrie" and it is the only book I have EVER read that directly led me to uncontrollably and violently vomit.

Anyway, I could talk endlessly about how much Mitch has no journalistic skills or integrity and about how bad his writing is (this is why I created the blog). But I also wanted to point out (after being reminded by a loyal reader) that Mitch is an anti-union scab.

Finally, and then I'll be quiet for now, a lot of you are inevitably going to say "Hey, Morrie, today you're going off on Mitch because he bitches and criticizes things...isn't that all you do...about Mitch?"

That is correct--all I do is bitch and criticize as well. But I am entitled to because I would never write a book called "The Five People You Meet in Heaven" unless the title was ironic and the book was actually about how cool drugs, sex, violence, and swearing are. Furthermore, I just write a blog titled "Mitch Albom is a Terrible Writer"--I provide truth in advertising. Mitch Albom claims to be a sports writer, but he is a liar--he is a megalomaniac.

Soon, I will start the petition to call on Mitch to resign.

I will also begin posting my imitation of Mitch Albom columns on various topics. There will be a contest where the general public can submit their imitations as well.

I will also do a more in-depth analysis of his shitty books/television-movies. Particularly, I will monitor Jon Voight's health. I mean, before "The Five People" movie came on, fully 100% of lead actors in Mitch Albom movies died soon after filming.

I will also attempt to get an interview with Hank Azaria to ask him to apologize for portraying Mitch in the first movie. Shame on you, Moe/Apu.

Did anyone see the comment earlier going off about how Mitch is a Zionist? Weird. All of the crazies are already coming out of the woodwork.

Good day.

Mitch Albom Apologists are STUPID

This was posted in comments:

Anonymous said...
Is it legal to repost an entire copyrighted article like this?
2:37 PM

It's called attribution, you ass-hat. Have I made it clear that Mitch wrote these articles? YES. The fucking page is called "Mitch Albom is a Terrible Writer"!!! Do I link the actual article? YES. Did I alter the article? NO. It even says the date and it says that HE wrote it.

So as Vincent Hanna says, "DON'T WASTE MY MOTHERFUCKING TIME!!!"

P.S. If Mitch's bitches have a problem with it, they can sue my ass. I'm sure the Free Press has already retained a great attorney for him given the scandal he's facing. That's right, I said it--I'm going to SUE Mitch Albom for civil damages for pain and sufferring for having LIED to me about those basketball players attendence at that game.

Then criminal charges will be brought against him for the MURDER of Jack Lemmon.

And finally, I will sue him again for sucking so hard.

Also, I hereby officially declare JIHAD on this website that attempts to satirize me and my cause.

Good day.

Guess What? Mitch Albom's Column SUCKS Today

It's got all the trademarks of a Shitty Mitch Albom column.

Melodramatic narration.

A corny theme.

Plenty of annoying, brief paragraphs to signal transition.

It even has "clever" Devo references.

Yes, it's another terrible PIECE OF SHIT column by Mitch Albom. Is he even trying anymore? I can't even believe how piss poor his writing is. Do people actually like him still, particularly after evidence has come to light that he makes shit up in his columns? Are people pissed that he caused Jack Lemmon's death? Beware Jon Voight--you have been cursed by Mitch Albom.

STOP writing shitty columns, STOP writing shitty books, STOP letting them adapt them into television movies. RESIGN, RETIRE, and SHUT THE FUCK UP.



Rip roarin'
Hamilton does it all as Pistons tie series at 2-2

So whom did Rip Hamilton tick off to draw this assignment? As if a bad calf weren't enough, as if running like a hamster in a wheel weren't enough, now he had one more job: Guard Dwyane Wade.
Yuh. And let me build a skyscraper in my spare time. Let me move some furniture during halftime. Let me drive the team bus. Let me get the morning coffee and doughnuts. Guard Wade? Doesn't that fall under a two-man job?
Well, it had the last few games -- and even two men weren't enough. Now, in Detroit's most important night of the season (to date), Hamilton was being handed the keys to the tank and told, like the grizzled soldier, to guard the castle.
"Actually, I asked for it," Richard Hamilton would say after leading the Pistons to a critical 106-96 victory that tied the Eastern Conference finals at two games apiece. "I told Tayshaun, 'I'm gonna give you a break. Let me guard Wade at the beginning.' "
Did Tayshaun Prince at least say thank you?
"He was like, 'All right.' "
Rip It Up. What Hamilton did Tuesday night was a testament to human endurance. He ran every inch of the court, playing defense, then offense, with such unsparing energy, you expected the flesh to melt off him, except that he doesn't have any flesh to spare. He is a dervish. A pogo stick. A whippet.
And, to paraphrase Devo: Whippet, Good.
In that first period of double duty, Hamilton held Wade to human numbers, just two baskets and three misses, while pumping in eight points of his own. He stuck to Wade, preventing the Miami Magician from pulling anything out of his hat, a tone that set the course for the evening. And that, it turns out, was Hamilton just getting started.
With Lindsey Hunter taking over the Wade duties in the second period, Hamilton exploded like a man freed from a bad marriage. He was nearly gleeful in sacrificing his body, driving the lane and drawing a foul on Shaquille O'Neal (his third, sending him to the bench), driving the baseline and drawing another on Michael Doleac. He was on the receiving end of a fast-break bomb pass from Carlos Arroyo and on the giving end of a slam by Prince.
He was a point guard and a shooting guard and a small forward rolled into one. He was all over the stat sheet as the Pistons built a nine-point lead, a 12-point lead, a 14-point lead. In that first half, Hamilton led the team in points, assists, free throws and shots and tied with Ben Wallace for rebounds.
Tied with Ben?
Don't discount the Heat
All told, when the night was over, Hamilton played 45 of 48 minutes, much of it chasing the player they call Flash all over the court.
"How exhausting was that?" Hamilton was asked in the locker room.
"It's tough," he said. "You gotta train your mind and body to handle it. I told myself I might have to spend a lot of energy guarding him on the defensive end but I still had to be aggressive on offense."
He smiled. "That's why I consider myself the best-conditioned athlete in the NBA."
Who's gonna argue? Hamilton was wearing an oversized shirt with the words "All Eyez On Me" on the back. During the game, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. And wherever he is this morning, Pistons fans can only hope he is snoring deeply and contentedly. Thanks largely to his efforts, the Pistons have reduced this pathway to the NBA Finals to a best-of-three affair. That's the good news.
And the bad.
Because despite Hamilton's brilliance -- and spurts of terrific basketball from Rasheed Wallace and Prince (playmaking as much as anything else) -- the Pistons hardly pulled away in this thing until the second half of the fourth quarter. Their 14-point leads were reduced to five in little more than a blink. Getting Shaq and Alonzo Mourning to the bench early with foul trouble still didn't enable them to floor the gas. Players like Udonis Haslem and Keyon Dooling had unwelcome explosions -- and we can't even spell their names!
Let's face it. We are four games into this thing. No more tiptoeing around this fact: The Heat is good. And only a war will win this thing.
Tuesday at least showed that the defending champions are up for that.
They put people on the ground. They banged hard for rebounds. They drove into the biggest trees in the Miami forest and didn't worry about the bruises. They played some defense so squelching that Miami never hit the rim before the shot clock expired.
And, finally, for a Pistons team that hadn't tasted victory in eight days, there were a few exhale moments. One came early in the fourth quarter, when Wade tried to go through his legs, got tied up by Pistons defenders, then threw up an air ball. He was so frustrated that he nearly tackled Hunter, knocking him to the ground for an obvious foul. Was that the first crack in the previously smooth veneer of this kid? If so, it was a snapshot remembered by the Pistons and stored for later.
And then, a few minutes later, Shaq threw up a shot and Antonio McDyess slammed it away. You don't do that very often.
The Palace crowd erupted.
The game was pretty much done after that.
Starting the right way
So it was a show, and, in the end, a blowout. But this was one of those games where the start was actually more important than the ending. The Pistons were marked for an upset. Miami was wondering, albeit silently, if this was all there was to the defending champs. Had Detroit somehow come out flat, fallen behind by 10 points, there is no telling what Miami's inflated confidence would have produced.
It didn't happen. And more than anyone, Hamilton made sure of it. For goodness sakes, he was still out there in the final minute of the game with a double-digit lead -- still racing around like a rabbit.
"Rip is pesky," Rasheed Wallace said. "He's a little pest out there."
The Pistons could use more pests like that. They'll need them Thursday night because, let's face it, the series is simply tied, the Pistons are not, in any way, out of the woods. They are not going to roll through this thing, as some predicted, and the Heat is not going to ride Wade to endless victory, as some had gushed, and the Larry Brown situation will not prevent Detroit from winning another game, as some had worried.
This is a battle for at least two more nights, maybe three. So take the script and Rip It Up.
As for Hamilton, "the best-conditioned athlete in the NBA," who led the Pistons with 28 points and eight assists and helped keep Wade earthbound all night long ...
Let him sleep.
Contact MITCH ALBOM at 313-223-4581 or albom@freepress.com. Catch "The Mitch Albom Show" 3-6 p.m. weekdays on WJR-AM (760). He will sign copies of "The Five People You Meet in Heaven" for Father's Day on June 12 -- 12:30 p.m. at Borders in Southland Mall in Taylor -- and on June 18 -- 11:30 a.m. at Borders in Birmingham, 2 p.m. at Barnes & Noble in Northville and 4:30 p.m. at Borders Express at Great Lakes Crossing in Auburn Hills. To read recent columns by Albom, go to www.freep.com/index/albom.

Mitch's Freep Column Fucking Sucks Today

This is the first posting on this blog. Before I go into detail explaining generally why Mitch Albom is a terrible writer by citing the many shit-columns he has written over the years and make fun of the tacky pseudo-sentimental bullshit he has unleashed upon us in the form of "novels" that unfortunately evolve into Hallmark movies-of-the-week, and before I mock the arrogant ass-clown for all his creative, professional, and personal shortcomings (especially his ethical woes in the field of "journalism" that he supposedly practices), I must start by posting the piece of unfunny, uninteresting, no-talent smagma he came up with today.

As is often the case with Little Bitch Mitch, he decided to write today's Freep sports column about the Detroit Pistons by arrogantly using creative omniscience. As we have seen in his recent works, making stuff up is much easier and more fun than actually doing what sports writers should do: review the games and offer analysis. Instead, Mitch likes to write in short, punchy pieces of fictional dialogue to make some brilliant point. Always insightful and funny, except it's not. It's always boring and pointless.

Does he think this is funny? Does he think this is creative? Because I get angry reading it. I don't like Mitch Albom at all. This is the beginning of my attempt to put a stop to him. Mitch Albom blows.

This is just the beginning--more general explanations about Mitch Albom's suckiness to come, so check back everyday.


Time to wake up, smell the deficit

Rrriiinnng.
"Mmmphht ... hullo?"
"Good morning, Mr. Ben Wallace. This is your 7 a.m. wake-up call."
"I didn't order any--"
"The weather today will be fine. Your game should only be as good. If you continue to score in single digits and miss countless free throws and persist in guarding Shaq but not really stopping him, by midnight storm clouds will arrive."
"Hey, who is this?"
"Have a nice day."
Rrriiinnng.
"Mzzpllpy ... 'ello?
"Good morning, Mr. Billups. This is your 7 a.m. wake-up call."
"You gotta be kidding, m--"
"Don't say it. We heard it Sunday. The refs didn't call a foul despite your bloody nose and mouth. Tough break. But Mr. Billups, really, a technical? You? And fouling out? And missing all kinds of shots you usually make? You simply cannot go 6-for-19 in these playoff games, Mr. Billups. Do you want that Miami guard -- whose name we shall not mention -- to steal all the glory?"
"Hey, I'm just--"
"Please. Wake up and be who you are. Take over a game. Hit the big shots. By the way, breakfast is served until 11 a.m."
"Who is thi--"
"Have a nice day."
And now for the other Wallace
Rrriiinnng.
"Whozit?"
"Good morning, Mr. Rasheed Wallace. This is your wake-up call."
"I don't need a w--"
"Well, yes you do. It's not enough to play half a game, Mr. Wallace. Not enough to have a highlight here or there. You are a dominant player. You need to be one all game long. Stop shooting those three-pointers and get in the middle and mix it up. Otherwise, that belt you carry will be wrapped around Shaquille O'Neal's waist -- even though on him it would be tight."
"Now you listen--"
"By the way, housekeeping will come by in a few minutes. Try not to scream at them. They're only doing their job."
"Hey, who--"
"Have a nice day."
Rrriiinnng.
"Yeah?"
"Good morning, Coach Brown. It's your 7 a.m. wake-up call."
"Gilbert? I told you not to call me here."
"The weather today will be fine. Your reputation, however, is another story. If your team does not play tonight with the kind of defense it is known for, if you do not get your players to realize that Miami is not a wind-up toy that eventually runs out of batteries, if you can't get them to concentrate on helping out, making sharp passes and keeping role players like Eddie Jones from getting 19 points -- well, then, you will leave this team with a dark cloud over your head, which is a shame since you won one title and by our accounts, you should win two."
"Hey. You're not Gilbert--"
"And let's lose all the extracurricular stuff, shall we, Coach? You have your hands full with this job, not the next one.
"By the way, the health club is open until midnight. A massage might do you good."
"Is this that New York Times reporter--"
"Have a nice day."
And this is for that TNT guy
Rrriiinnng.
"Mmphzz ... this better be good."
"Good morning, Mr. Charles Barkley. This is your wake-up call."
"Is it noon already?"
"No, but it is time to smell the coffee. Stop telling people how easily Detroit will win this series. Stop telling them Detroit 'almost' won Game 2 despite Dwyane Wade's 40 points. Stop saying that in Game 3, even when the Heat shot 58 percent in the first half, the Pistons were 'only two points behind.' Don't you see how that feeds into complacency? Don't you know the difference between being 'close enough' and actually winning? Didn't you ever win a championship? ... Oh, sorry, Mr. Barkley. We forgot."
"Why, you &%$#*&*!!"
"Have a nice day."
Rrriiinnng.
"Speak."
"Good morning, Mr. Referee. This is your 7 a.m. wake-up call."
"Thank y--"
"Not so fast. You may find a problem with your door this morning. We are checking it for maintenance. Unfortunately, you won't be able to get out of your room until 11 tonight. We regret any inconvenience. Sometimes, the breaks don't go your way."
"But there's a game tonight!"
"Yes. A game. Unlike Sunday. Ninety-seven free throws isn't a game, it's a joke."
"Hey, now, listen--"
"Have a nice day."
Click.
"Ahrrgh. Work, work, work."
"Mr. Davidson? Are you ready for breakfast, sir?"
"Yeah. Just one more call. What's David Stern's number?"

Contact MITCH ALBOM at 313-223-4581 or albom@freepress.com. He will sign copies of "The Five People You Meet in Heaven" for Father's Day on June 12 -- 12:30 p.m. at Borders in Southland Mall in Taylor -- and on June 18 -- 11:30 a.m. at Borders in Birmingham, 2 p.m. at Barnes & Noble in Northville and 4:30 p.m. at Borders Express at Great Lakes Crossing in Auburn Hills.


What the figgity fuck? People consider him a renowned sportswriter??? This is drivel. OOOOOOH, SOOOOO creative!!! WAKE-UP CALL!?!?! WOW!!! Fuck you, Mitch. Keep signing those craptastic books. It's all you're good for.