It took John Elway's losing his father, his twin sister, his wife and his four kids to realize what a lousy person he'd been to his family, yet we loved him for being a star. Phil Mickelson understands there is more to life than beating Tiger Woods, yet we berate him and call him complacent. Shame on us.
JEFFREY C. FORD, Aurora, Ill.
I never realized that the replacement players are still treated as second-class citizens by their peers seven years later (SCORECARD, Aug. 19). Your article confirms what I've already concluded about most major league baseball players: They are greedy, selfish people who have lost sight of the fact that they get paid big money to play a kid's game.
TOM KANIEWSKI, New York City
Just Vin, Baby
Steve Rushin's column The Most Artful Dodger was right on the mark (AIR AND SPACE, Aug. 19). My father died in 1960 when I was six years old, and I found great comfort on many nights by going to sleep with my transistor radio under my pillow and listening to Vin Scully call the Dodgers' games. I tuned in to almost every Dodgers game until I was well into my teens. Scully, more than anyone else, fueled my love of sports, and baseball in particular.
STEVEN GARDNER, Redlands, Calif.
I hate the Dodgers. I always have. But when I am lucky enough to listen to a Vin Scully broadcast, my eyes moisten and I get a lump in my throat. Unlike all of the homogenized pinheads calling games these days, Scully is truly a national treasure.
KEITH HULL, Boise, Idaho