But then again, maybe not.

As always, I’m finishing this column on a Thursday because the Commentary section goes to press about 36 hours before the newspaper is delivered Saturday morning.

Mitch Albom is in a heap of trouble, but I’m not about to write about something that happened or didn’t happen to him Friday. Friday is tomorrow to me. It’s yesterday to you.

Well, obviously, right?

But Albom — he’s the guy who wrote "Tuesdays with Morrie" — ignored that little piece of logic in a similar situation not long ago, and now his Detroit Free Press career and his credibility are in awful jeopardy.

Like The Daily Star and most other weekend or Sunday products, sections of the Free Press that deal with features, commentaries, color comics, etc., are produced in advance so the printing press can deal with breaking news and sports on deadline.

Albom wrote a column that had to be filed on a Friday afternoon. It wouldn’t appear until Sunday, a day after a Saturday NCAA Final Four tournament basketball game between Michigan State and North Carolina.

Albom interviewed two former Michigan State players, who told him they would be attending the game. In the column that appeared Sunday, Mitch had them there, even describing what they were wearing.

Unfortunately, the players decided to skip the game.

Albom later wrote a column apologizing to his readers for what was an incredibly stupid, amateur mistake in judgment. It has created a furor, and the Free Press has suspended his column while it decides whether to fire this remarkable talent.

Albom is a best-selling author three times over. His column is syndicated all over America; he has his own national radio show and appears regularly on ESPN.

"Tuesdays with Morrie" has more than five million copies in print and was made into an Emmy-winning television movie. His current bestseller is "The Five People You Meet in Heaven."

When it comes to being a sports columnist, Mitch Albom is Babe Ruth. He is Michael Jordan.

Each year, the Associated Press Sports Editors organization holds a contest in various categories. To place in the top five in any circulation category is a wonderful achievement. Careers have been made on honorable mentions.

When I was a sports editor, my newspapers’ stories, sections or projects occasionally placing in the top five or 10 in a few APSE middle-circulation categories certainly did my career no harm.

And then, there’s Mitch Albom, always competing in the very top and toughest circulation category. In this incredibly competitive contest including the very best sports columnists in America, Albom finished first in column writing nine years in a row.

Over a period of 15 years, Albom finished first in columns 13 times. In feature writing, he was first seven years out of nine.

I can’t begin to express what phenomenal achievements those are.

One year during that nine-in-a-row streak, I was one of the sports editors judging the column contest. Because of Albom’s dominance, members of our judging group half-jokingly decided: "no way Mitch wins this year."

But when I read his column entry, I started to giggle. It was so ridiculously good that of course it made my top five. The other sports editors obviously agreed, and Mitch went on to win another contest.

Albom’s present anguish got me thinking about Robert Warren. It was funny, because I haven’t thought very much about Robert Warren since 1968.

That was when I done him wrong.

Robert was a high school classmate of mine and a member of the golf team. I was 17, and working as a correspondent for the local newspaper. I thought I was pretty hot stuff, but I actually knew about as much about journalism as an armadillo knows about opera.

I was covering a high school golf match one day, and Robert had what I considered a pretty safe lead with only a few holes to go. I went back to the office and wrote that Robert had won.

As it turned out, Robert didn’t win, and the newspaper had to print a correction the next day. Somehow, I was allowed to keep my job although I had let down Robert, myself and my readers.

The fact that I still remember Robert’s name after 37 years is pretty good evidence that the incident made a big impression on me and my career.

I was lucky. I was only a teenager at a small newspaper, and only a few people knew about my dumb, lazy, rookie mistake.

Mitch Albom isn’t so fortunate. He’s famous, in his mid-40s, and millions of people know about his dumb, lazy, rookie mistake.

But I don’t think he’ll ever make one like that again. This immensely gifted writer shouldn’t be fired, and I hope by the time you read this, he hasn’t been.

But then, I don’t know. Your yesterday is, after all, my tomorrow.

Sam Pollak is editor of The Daily Star. He can be reached at spollak@thedailystar.com or at (607) 432-1000, ext. 208.