Michael Goldsmith, the baseball fan who penned the NEWSWEEK My Turn column that became a game-changer for major league baseball, died this week at the age of 58.

Goldsmith suffered from and finally succumbed to amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS. Also known as Lou Gehrig's disease, the degenerative condition robbed the Hall of Famer of his life and robs 30,000 Americans at any given time of their ability to walk, speak, and eventually breathe. It's a rare disease—striking two out of 10,000—but a brutal one, agonizing for those who suffer from the disease and those who love them.

Gehrig is the most famous face of ALS, but it was Goldsmith who suggested, in a NEWSWEEK My Turn column that ran on Nov. 1, 2008, that baseball join the fight in a more public and organized way:

Major League Baseball has never taken comprehensive action against ALS. Defeating ALS will require the same type of determination, dedication and drive that Gehrig and Cal Ripken demonstrated when they set superhuman records for consecutive games played. With this in mind, why not make July 4, 2009, ALS-Lou Gehrig Day? Dedicate this grim anniversary to funding research for a cure; every major- and minor-league stadium might project the video of Gehrig's farewell, and teams, players and fans could contribute to this cause.

The column soon caught the attention of  The New York Times and MLB Commissioner Bud Selig, and the plan Goldsmith envisioned was put into action. On July 4  this season, the 70th anniversary of  Lou Gehrig's "Luckiest Man" speech, players wore commemorative patches. ALS groups sold awareness buttons, and ballparks played video of Gehrig's noble farewell on the JumboTrons. Goldsmith was honored at Yankee Stadium that day, throwing out the ceremonial first pitch. His family later recalled how much he savored that experience—despite his being an Orioles fan.

Selig issued a statement about Goldsmith's passing, saying he was "deeply saddened" and offering his condolences. Game 5 of the World Series, played last night in Philadelphia, was dedicated to Goldsmith's memory.  Throughout the game, fans were encouraged to donate to ALS charities by visiting the MLB blog 4ALS Awareness. According to the George Vecsey, who wrote about Goldsmith's NEWSWEEK column in the Times, "Commissioner Bud Selig said Goldsmith believed in the power of one person to make an impact, and he promised that Goldsmith’s aspirations would continue to be honored."

It would be a tribute to both Gehrig and Goldsmith and a testament to the enduring power of sports, teamwork, and camaraderie if baseball took that "comprehensive action" Goldsmith suggested. It's worth noting that the Philadelphia Phillies, who are currently trying to battle their way out of a 3-2 deficit against the Yankees in the World Series, have raised more than $11 million in the past 25 years through their charity work with The Greater Philadelphia ALS Society. A baseball-wide campaign to actively fight ALS and support those who suffer from it would go a long way to aid the cause and to bring back some lost dignity to America's pastime.

Aside from being a baseball fan, Goldsmith was the Woodruff J. Deem professor of law at Brigham Young, and a husband, father, son, and brother. We at NEWSWEEK offer his friends and family our deepest sympathies.

Kim Clijsters made short work of opponent Caroline Wozniacki to take the U.S. Open women's singles title tonight. But a victory for Clijsters─who returned to tennis with low expectations after she took a two-year break to have a baby─will not be what most people remember about this Open. Instead, they'll be talking about Serena Williams's tirade against a line judge: an outburst that cost Williams the match and, later, a $10,000 fine.

Clijsters and Williams had been competing in the semifinals earlier in the day.  After a line judge awarded Clijsters a crucial point, saying Williams had foot-faulted on her serve,  Williams pointed at the judge, sad she'd shove the tennis ball down the judge's throat, and later tried to reassure the match referee and other officials that she never threatened the judge's life. The judge awarded Clijsters an additional point based on Williams's unsportsmanlike conduct, which cost Williams the match. (To her credit, Williams walked over to Clijsters without reservation, shook her hand, and wished her well.)

While Williams supporters point out that tantrums in tennis are nothing new, it appears that Williams is the first to threaten a judge, rather than just impugn her skills and spout profanities in her general direction.  It's probably safe to say that although Williams was not actually going to stuff a tennis ball down the line judge's throat, it did appear to cross a line. Previous tantrums have been just that: puffed chests and bickering, with a few tossed rackets and broadcast-unfriendly words thrown in, but no implied violence (except to the water glasses in the way of John McEnroe's forehand).

See for yourself: we collected video of some recent─and classic─tennis freakouts.

by Leslie Goldman

One thing is for sure: kids’ sports are doomed. Why they’redoomed, however, depends on who you’re talking to. It might be due tothe fact that sports today are hypercompetitive, high-stakes affairswhere winning has become the only thing that matters. Parents falsifybirth certificates and pick fights in the parking lots. Kids are forcedto train too long and compete too often, taking all the fun out of thegame – and isn’t that the whole point of sports?

Then, ofcourse, there’s the fact that kids today are too soft, and sports havebecome an unstructured joke. Coaches aren’t even allowed to critique akid’s technique, for fear of hurting someone’s feelings. No one keepsscore, everyone gets a turn at bat, and there are no winners or losers.In an effort to protect kids; feelings, important lessons aboutcharacter, hard work, and winning and losing disappear – and isn’t thatthe whole point of sports?

 So who's right? Find out after the jump.

About the time Brett Favre was agreeing to let the Minnesota Vikings pay him $12 million to be a league-average quarterback this year, I was on the phone with a very good surgeon about the shredded remains of what was once my right labrum. The labrum is the thing that cushions the hip socket, and, it turned out, mine was just about gone. You’re almost certainly looking at a hip replacement, said the surgeon. Eventually.

OK. But I’ll still be able to play basketball after, right?

Oh, dear God, no. Maybe some doubles tennis.

Everyone who plays sports eventually has this day, the day when you’re told you’re done. Sometimes it’s a coach who says it; sometimes it’s a doctor. The lucky, talented few get to decide the time and conditions of their ends, and  Favre is certainly one of them. He’s 39; he’s been playing some form of football for more than 30 years at this point. Why should he stop now? Why should he quit doing this thing he was made to do, and that he loves doing?

The objections to Favre returning are legion, and they’re legit—he’s too old, he’s just in it for the cash, he’s taking money that could be used to build a better team for the future, he’s stunting the development of the team’s younger quarterbacks (though if Sage Rosenfels or Tavaris Jackson have any seeds of Farve-dom within them, they’ve certainly been dormant so far). Both Packers and Vikings fans are having a hard time wrapping their brains around the idea of Favre in a Vikings uniform, and the critics say he’s ruined the narrative of his career, that he should have retired two years ago after that last Indian Summer season with the Packers. This is the thinking that cringes at the thought of Willie Mays falling down in the outfield for the 1973 Mets, that blanches at the memory of Joe Namath in a Rams uniform, that thinks Michael Jordan should have walked away after that series-winning shot against the Jazz (in which he clearly committed an offensive foul against Byron Russell, by the way).

Favre will not be the transcendent quarterback of 10 years ago. Hell, one year and one declining rotator cuff later, he probably won’t even be the guy who wrecked the Jets season last year. But what does that matter, if he’s the best quarterback option for the Vikings this year? Sure, as Herm Edwards reminds us, you play to win the game.

But winning isn’t everything. You play to play the game. The hard fact of sports at all levels is this: most people aren’t winners. But in the end, winning isn’t really the point. The playing is the thing; the feel of a properly thrown ball; the crunch of really popping someone; the sheer amazing joy of being able to move with purpose and grace, perfectly aligned, and when it’s done just right your whole body is an instrument that brings forth a true and steady pitch.

I’m 42. For the past 30 years, I’ve never gone more than a couple of weeks without playing basketball, and if this is the end for me I have only one demand: like Rutger Hauer in Blade Runner, I want more life, f--ker. Surely Brett Favre wants, and deserves, the same.

See our gallery of other athletes who were accused of playing too long. 

 A three-part series on the role sports play in childhood development. 

Depending on one’s high school experience, there are two distinctphilosophies about the role sports plays in a child’s development.There’s the idea that youth sports teaches kids discipline and respect,keeps them off the street, and helps them mature into adults: it’ssports that turned athletically gifted but insecure Daniel Larusso intothe Karate Kid.

But just as pervasive is the opinion thatjocks are jerks, and kids who play sports are mean bullies who will doanything to win, who need to dominate their opponents and who carrythat aggressiveness streak off the field. Kids who play sports, thisline of thinking goes, are more like Johnny Lawrence, star athlete (andbig-time bully) from the Cobra-Kai dojo.

A recent study in the journal Developmental Psychology suggest that jocks really are jerks—ifthey focus exclusively on sports at the expense of other more-wellrounded programs. But kids who both play sports and are exposed toyouth development program like scouting or 4-H show the most markers ofpersonal growth and maturity.

What's the secret to turning child athletes into responsible adults? Find out after the jump.

(Ray Tamarra/Getty Images)

The Philadelphia Eagles have reportedly signed Michael Vick to a two-year contract. I'm a Philadelphia native, and the reaction from my Facebook feed tells me that the fans are less than pleased. One of my friends has designated her Eagles jersey as her dog's new chew toy. Another is convinced that Eagles owner Jeffrey Lurie is just creating a smokescreen to take a little attention away from the world champion Philadelphia Phillies, and this will all turn out to be a hoax. A few have flat-out refused to watch any games this season. To give you an extent of how bad it is, one of my Facebook friends said he'd rather have T.O.─notorious showboat and citywide disappointment Terrell Owens─back than Michael Vick in an Eagles jersey. It's safe to say that come opening night at the Linc, we Philly fans will boo Vick louder than we ever did Santa.

As a dog lover and an Eagles fan, I admit to being more conflicted than most. I always got the feeling that Vick was a kid who grew up in a poor, dangerous neighborhood, and was given a ton of money, fame, and power at a very early age. Suddenly, he was playing by the new rules of a society that cared a lot about the humane treatment of dogs (as they should), but not all that much about whether he or his friends and family lived humanely for most of his life. He was punished; he served his time. It seems to me that the one way to turn someone from a dog abuser into someone with an out-and-out hatred for dogs is to rob him of his career and accomplishments, leaving him with a lot of time to get bitter and angry.

This is not really an argument at all, just a semiformulated feeling I've had throughout  Vick's entire ordeal. Luckily, Raina Kelley is smarter than me, and has better articulated all these thoughts.

Read Raina's take (and more of mine) after the jump.