As a former public school teacher in Washington, I heard this cliche from countless bureaucrats. It was code for "Stop whining about ancient textbooks and prehistoric classroom materials, because there is no money."

Before all the NBA oxygen is inhaled by this week’s draft; before our days are dedicated to debates about whether Greg Oden or Kevin Durant is the true superstar of the 2007 cattle call.

As the San Francisco Giants slugger approaches Henry Aaron’s record for career homers, this probability seems to be turning otherwise rational people upside down, as Bonds has encountered an almost surreal level of hostility.

Kevin Cooper is a sports fan. Kevin Cooper loves the Steelers. Kevin Cooper makes his home on death row at the notorious San Quentin Penitentiary in California. Cooper awaits execution for a crime many observers are convinced he did not commit.

Anybody got $500 million collecting dust under the couch? If you live in Chicago, take a second look between those cushions. The United States Olympic Committee (USOC) has let it be known that the people of the Windy City could pay out as much as $500 million if they are awarded the 2016 Summer Games.

There are more books about Muhammad Ali than Abe Lincoln: 300 titles in the children's section alone. You can also purchase The Muhammad Ali Reader, the Tao of Muhammad Ali, or the $10,000 G.O.A.T. - a massive coffee table book about all things Ali that is slightly larger than a typical coffee table.

Bowie Kuhn, baseball's fifth commissioner, passed away last night at the age of 80. I never met the man. In private, he may have made Gandhi look like Ted Nugent.

Sunday night's Super Bowl was a Roman Vomitorium of odious spew. This wasn't the good, the bad, and the ugly. It was the dreary, the vile, and the insipid made only palatable by the thought of Mike Ditka in a dark bar drinking whiskey shots, chased with the salty discharge humans call tears.

My man Kevin who lives in Raleigh left a message on my answering machine late Sunday night, “Hey Chris what’s up, sorry I missed your call. We finally gonna have a Black coach win the Super Bowl, that’s my prediction.” Of course by now that’s pretty much everyone’s prediction.

Fierce armor-clad gladiators applying wicked hits, battering each other relentlessly, engaging in bone-jarring collisions, and performing feats of near super-human athleticism….

Pity the poor baseball writers! To read their words, the very fate of our republic has been resting in their trembling hands.

Anyone seen David Stern recently? Is there proof that the man they call "Money" isn't growing out his fingernails, freezing his urine, and trading in his wingtips for tissue boxes?

I never felt it was my place to question Negro League players. To me their parks are to be viewed as temples, undefiled by incompetence and me-ism. Hard-core athletes whose only performance enhancement was their love of the game, good times, and their own camaraderie.

It started out like your typical pro football player. But then, tucked away drowsily in the last paragraph, Baltimore Ravens defensive lineman Adalius Thomas, emerged with something to say.

Former heavyweight boxing champion Mike Tyson began life in the condemned projects of Brooklyn, and condemned he has remained. His American journey has included stops in homeless shelters, reform schools, bankruptcy courts, and prison. Along the way, he earned and lost more than $100 million.

Scholarship, teaching, service and governance were seen as part of the same university mission, and the only football game that mattered to anyone was the Rutgers-Princeton game. Indeed, a match between Rutgers and Princeton in the early post Civil War period is generally regarded as the beginning of American football.

This column is usually dedicated to those in the Sportsworld who believe in the power of protest – and back their words with deeds. But today, in recognition of this Tuesday’s election-lunacy, we give space to those who back their political ideas with cold, hard, filthy, cash.

Almost four decades later, the image can still make hairs rise on unsuspecting necks. It's 1968, and 200 meter gold medalist Tommie Smith stands next to bronze winner John Carlos, their raised black gloved fists smashing the sky on the medal stand in Mexico City.

Charles Barkley, Hall of Fame NBA player, television sports commentator, and author, recently declared his interest in running for the governorship of his home state of Alabama.

You're a good man, Larry Brown. You were born in Brooklyn damn near 66 years ago and in that time you've traveled more than LeBron in the playoffs. You played for the Akron Wingfoots of the old NABL