I lay there on my sofa early Sunday morning, flu-ridden, back aching, both contributing to my insomnia, as I fruitlessly wished for a cure for all three.
Soon after his retirement, basketball junkies everywhere craved the second coming of Michael, so much so that we dubbed every player after him who could jump out of the gym “The Next Jordan.”
It appears we have a new blowtorch in American men’s tennis. This time around, he’s sans afro and headband.
“I see you drivin’ ‘round town with the girl I love, and I’m like….” -Cee Lo Green