Tears

GULLANE, Scotland -- At the moment the agonizing melodrama ended, when the 121st British Open at Muirfield was well and truly his, Nick Faldo broke down and cried.These were not a few select tears overflowing down the side of a cheek. This was a violent, all-out sob.And the emotion was not the joy of victory but the relief of a man who, in the final nine holes, had survived a trip to his own personal hell.First he led by three. Then, suddenly, he trailed by two. And finally, somehow, he wobbled off the course on buckling legs, the winner by one."

Bruce and Isobel Cleland have a small, black and white photograph of their third child that can still move them to tears. In it, Georgia, almost 3, is looking down, cuddling her baby blanket. She is nearly bald from the chemotherapy and radiation that ravaged her body but saved her life. "That's my favorite picture," Isobel says. Bruce Cleland keeps the 1986 photo with other keepsakes from that time. In some ways, it seems like another life -- before the Clelands moved to Baltimore, before they knew Georgia would go into remission and survive, before they could fathom any good arising from their family tragedy.

Hilariously, Touchstone Pictures has promoted King Arthur as a fresh tale, not a clone, and one or two smart publications have taken the bait. Still, it plays like a remake - not of Knights of the Round Table (1953) but of director Antoine Fuqua's previous Tears of the Sun (2003). To name the most pertinent similarities: A commando unit treks through war-torn territory on a perilous snatch-and-grab mission (in contemporary Nigeria there, antique northern Britain here). Its chief (Bruce Willis as a top Navy SEAL, Clive Owen as King Arthur)

Bill Langevin took his brother's hand for the first time in 20 years Friday and his tears began to flow."I can't help it, man," the 74-year-old Florida resident said. "I love you."Bill and his brother, Frank Langevin, both of whom have prostate cancer, met in the Pasadena house of a friend who helped arrange the reunion."Hey, Bill. It's been a long time," said Frank, who can't stand up because the cancer has entered the bones in his feet."Hey, Frank. I love you," Bill replied.Bill's voice choked up, and tears rolled down his face.

Brandon Lauer's high school wrestling career ended with a perfect 111-0 record yesterday at fan-packed Western Maryland College where he won the 125-pound Class 4A-3A state championship. The River Hill senior, who didn't wrestle as a freshman because he weighed only 90 pounds, joined the elite company of just three other Maryland wrestlers who have completed undefeated careers -- Paint Branch's Brian Crane, Bullis School's Len Bernstein and Owings Mills' Steve Kessler. Lauer, headed to West Virginia on an athletic scholarship, finished this season at 39-0 and became the 16th Maryland wrestler to win three state titles.

FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. -- An examination of Kurt Ainsworth's right shoulder yesterday in Baltimore revealed two tears and a defect that threaten to end his season, and perhaps his playing career. Once a candidate for the fifth spot in the Orioles' rotation, Ainsworth has been found to have a torn labrum and a partial tear of the rotator cuff. Dr. Charles Silberstein, the team's orthopedic specialist, also found a divot in the glenoid fossa, or shoulder socket. "This is something that has developed over time," assistant trainer Brian Ebel said.

NAGANO, Japan -- Michelle Kwan kept crying softly. She cried when she finished her performance. She cried when she failed to win the gold. And she cried again in a news conference, wiping away the tears while trying to smile.Defeat hurt her. She gave a show that was nearly golden, skating with style and grace and all seven triple jumps properly placed. Yet she had to settle for the silver behind American teammate Tara Lipinski in the women's figure skating final at the Winter Olympics yesterday.

The year was 1964 when a future Sun editorial writer stood outside Randle Highlands Elementary School in Southeast D.C. with tears streaming down his cheeks as if a leaky tap had been bolted to his head. The boy did not wish to cry. He didn't feel particularly sad or hurt, the normal reasons why a 5-year-old would be tearing up. But it was the first day of school, the first day entirely on his own without a parent nearby, and what is etched most deeply in his memory of the day is the embarrassment of being seen by his peers as a cry-baby.

The pastor read out 13 names at a "service of comfort" in his East Baltimore church -- the apparent dead and injured from yesterday's rowhouse blaze a few blocks away. Gasps and sobs were the response from the hundreds of people gathered in sadness in the Ark Church sanctuary as the Rev. James L. Carter shared the names he had gathered -- still unconfirmed by authorities -- of those who perished in, or survived, the tragedy on Cecil Avenue. Four of the dead were children, he said -- the youngest just 3 years old. "We can't stop the tears from flowing," Carter told the crowd at the church in the 1200 block of E. North Ave. "It's all right to cry."

Tears of the Sun is about how much one man can endure. True, it's done under the guise of a fairly conventional war movie, in which Bruce Willis, a tough-guy Navy SEAL lieutenant, finds himself playing reluctant hero to a few dozen African refugees trying to escape the genocide ravaging their country (Nigeria, for those who may want to alter their travel plans). On that level, the movie's just short of wonderful, full of action and macho charisma and military might and good guys getting the job done.