Bill Lyon is a retired Inquirer sports columnist. Lyon, a recipient of the National Headliner Award and a 7-time winner of Pennsylvania Sportswriter of the Year, joined the newspaper in 1972 and retired in 2005. He was inducted into both the Philadelphia Sports and Pennsylvania Sports halls of fame. He continues to contribute to The Inquirer on a part-time basis.

Latest Stories

Forget football. Cross-country is a second autumn sport that deserves praise | Bill Lyon

Cross-country runners get shin splints and blisters on their feet and runny noses and watery eyes. They also get a special kind of self-satisfaction that few of us are ever privileged to experience.

Fighting to the finish for an Alzheimer’s cure | Bill Lyon

Philadelphia sports columnist Bill Lyon chronicles his fight against Alzheimer's disease.

How two Bernese mountain dogs are helping me battle Alzheimer's | Bill Lyon

I have seen the effect of comfort dogs on the hurt and the lame, whose eyes light up and blood pressure goes down. Is there anything more enchanting than an ear being scratched and a voice cooing, "Good doggie. Good doggie."

Life after Ethel, and why I'll never, ever give in to Alzheimer's | Bill Lyon

I reached 80 the other day. I'm not sure what that means. Well, the obvious thing is that you're getting old. Eighty is old, and the woman next to me here in assisted living is 105. Kind of puts it in perspective.

Ethel Lyon was a fighter to the end | Bill Lyon

She survived cancer and emphysema and 12 major surgeries. But always, she came back, and she was fighting to the end.

Deliverance is at hand for the Eagles, who will win the Super Bowl | Bill Lyon

There's something in the air tonight, and this is the time. The Eagles are going to win the Super Bowl.

Family and coaching were Massimino's ruling passions | Bill Lyon

Daddy Mass poured heart and soul into his life, and his life was all about two passions - family and coaching.

Bill Lyon: One small toss for me, one big strike against Alzheimer's

Every sport has a ceremonial ritual designed to ignite the festivities. For baseball, with its quaint and charming customs, it's The First Pitch, wherein some unsuspecting soul is escorted to the mound, a fresh-from-the-box ball is placed in his, or her, hand, and he, or she, is told to throw it.

The day Belmont Park took out Smarty

The home stretch at Belmont Park is punishingly long and relentlessly unforgiving, littered with the bleached bones of failed Triple Crown contenders, guarded by ghosts that are fiercely zealous sentinels of its reputation: Graveyard of Champions.

Fregosi the perfect skipper for '93 Phils

What a crew he had. What a motley crew of untamed, unwashed, unkempt scruffians. Call the roll: Lenny Dykstra, a.k.a. Pig Pen, who hit doubles and drank them with equal gusto.