Even though America has come a long way in terms of race relations-far more than many other countries of the world-stereotypes do still exist. Perhaps there are some people you'd rather not have as neighbors. Certain nationalities draw your suspicions. They have customs and habits that feel-(to use a fitting word)-"foreign" to you.

It's the feeling you get when you've been in your first real job about three weeks. Work life is your new routine, your new normal. You've got your own business card. People know you by name. You're getting the hang of this. Life is good.

Some football players, when they break away for a go-ahead score or cause a key third-down sack, want to be sure they get their full ESPN's worth-the dances, the struts, the jerky moves they've been saving up for just such an opportunity.

We're all pretty different. Different tastes in restaurants. Different sizes of televisions. Different favorite places to go on vacation. But one thing that's common to every man on earth is this: we're all on a collision course with death.

Every year when NFL training camp rolls around, there are guys who come in hungry and fired up, fresh from an off-season workout regimen that has gotten them in playing shape right from the get-go. But every team also has players who show up fat and flabby, twenty pounds over their goal weight, gasping for breath at the first sight of wind sprints.

We've never been to a funeral, no matter how tragic or expected the person's death, when much of the service and the conversations surrounding it didn't center on memories of his or her life. We recall happier times we spent together. We reflect on what this individual was like. We regret that we won't be able to enjoy their smile or laughter anymore on earth.