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I'm Sorry But Detroit Needed the 7th Game

I was at the Premier show over the weekend. I bumped into plenty of business associates and its the kind of show that when you bump into people, you have to have the mandatory five minute chat. This year was the most unusual of all however.

"Larry, how are things in Michigan? I read the paper and are things as bad as the paper says it is? Or worse? What's the unemployment rate up to? How's business?"

I'm sorry.

"Larry, when are things going to turn around? What happened to the Big 3? Is Obama Motors going to make it? What are all the other businesses doing in the meantime?"

I'm sorry.

"Larry, I just read that your unemployment rate went past 13%? How are the salons doing? They got to be doing awful. Is the weather getting better, I heard you had the worst winter in recent history."

I'm sorry.

"Larry, how much of your business is in Michigan? It's got to be terrible. When do you think it will turn around and who is going to come to your state to set up shop in the next few years? I heard Greektown casino is in bankruptcy and the MGM is up for sale. At least the Wings are doing well."

I'm sorry.

Truthfully, I'm sorry for all the sorry's I have to put up with. And now we have the Wings. When we were up 2-0, I bet a buck the Wings would sweep or at least take the series in 5 or 6. But my friend bet me it would go to 7 games and the Penguins would win. I thought that was the safest best I ever made.

I'm sorry.

Detroit is banking on the Wings winning. We need another parade. We need excitement. And we need the 7th game because we need the business and the excitement Friday night's game will bring to Detroit. The 7th game is the perfect elixir for one glorious day. But we need to win. Or else I will be getting more calls from my business associates and the one friend who wagered the buck. And all I am going to here is:

I'm sorry.

Happy Wednesday!


Adam Harris was born in coal country, right in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains. His father, Gregory, worked the mines every day and came home to his best friend, Jim Beam. Gregory had many frie


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