Steve Stein Contributing Writer Billy Slobin is 56. For 46 of those years, Farmington Hills Harrison High School football has been a huge part of his life. His connection started as a fan. He played for the Hawks for three years (1977-1979) and he’s been the program’s volunteer strength and conditioning coach for 33 years.…Read More
AT THE MOVIES Opening Oct. 26: Mid90s marks the directing debut of Jonah Hill, 34, who also wrote the film. While billed as a comedy/drama, the reviews I’ve read describe it as a pretty gritty film with just a chuckle now and again. It follows Stevie, a 13-year-old with a tough home life. His working-class…Read More
It happened a little more than five years ago, but Chuck Freedman remembers every detail. Going to a Detroit Tigers game at Comerica Park on a hot Sunday August afternoon with his father-in-law and good friend Richard Maltz. Watching and worrying as Maltz became ill at the stadium before the game and was taken to…Read More
Billy Slobin has been the strength and conditioning coach for the Farmington Hills Harrison High School football team since 1986. He hasn’t been paid a cent for 32 years. He’s a volunteer. He said he’s done the job to give back to the Harrison football program, which had a significant positive impact on his life…Read More
In April 2009, I remember hearing the first reports of a potentially virulent strain of influenza called “Swine Flu.” While the outbreak started in rural Mexico, a few isolated cases had already shown up in California and Texas.
By the end of the following month, Swine Flu, also known as H1N1, had swept through all 50 states and the virus’ first fatalities were confirmed by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta.
Detroit entrepreneurs tap into “rotisserie” sports — an estimated $800-million-a-year Dungeon-and-Dragons-for-jocks industry.
On any given Sunday in the United States, millions of fantasy football players fade out of their everyday reality and into a Walter Mitty-esque landscape of top echelon professional sports heroics.
Like musket-toting civil war re-enactors and mead-drinking renaissance festival lords, players in fantasy sports leagues forsake the drudgery of accounting offices, assembly lines, honey-do lists, laundry and lawn work — spending an estimated $800 million annually to play “let’s pretend.”
The costume is no more than a favorite jersey or cap. The stage is set in the comfort of the living room, local pub or best buddy’s basement.