Here comes the call from death again, being its ironic self. A fight had just broken out during the Wranglers playoff game Monday evening at the Orleans Arena when the news of Glen Gondrezick’s passing arrived.
Sports Columns
Racing lore is full of hard-luck stories in which a jockey and his agent had to pick between top horses to ride and invariably chose the wrong one.
The deadline for submitting big-game tag applications was 5 p.m. Monday, and I’m hopeful that you made the deadline. Of course, there are always a few who manage to miss the deadline.
“There are two primary choices in life; to accept conditions as they exist, or accept the responsibility for changing them.”
Let’s get this part out of the way: It’s not the new league or the travel. It is definitely not the weather for a Triple-A baseball franchise that spent more than three decades in Syracuse, which exists under a perpetual shade of dark gray and where locals have been known to define summer as three months of bad sledding.
The best types of spring football practices are the boring ones. Five or so weeks of drills that create as much news as a crossing guard promotion. An uneventful time when roles are defined and schemes are advanced with experienced players. A tedious stretch in which no serious injuries are suffered in April that might impact what happens in September.
The man with the toughest job in racing each spring is Mike Battaglia, the morning linemaker at Churchill Downs. Battaglia usually gets criticized for his Kentucky Derby line, when, in reality, he does a fine job.
Ken Walker seems like a nice fellow. He speaks with one of those engaging Texas drawls that he says is handed down from his Mama, where syllables are either dropped or overstressed, the kind you never tire of hearing.
Patience always has been a significant part of fishing, and despite modern technology, it probably always will be. But there are times when the need for patience extends well beyond waiting for a fish to take your bait. Sometimes you have to be patient with the people who share your local fishing hole
You won’t find Oscar De La Hoya listed near the top of any account chronicling the best boxers over the last century. He doesn’t belong close to the legends of Robinson and Ali and Armstrong and Louis.
It’s like they are protecting the fort while awaiting fresh troops. Like they are trying to survive until all able bodies have arrived. Like they can see what is possible when game preparation isn’t split between scouting an opponent and reintroducing themselves to each other.
The telephone rang in the sports information office at UNLV around 2 p.m. on Thursday. A local college baseball fan had a question:
Whoever wins Saturday’s Arkansas Derby and Blue Grass Stakes will slip into the Kentucky Derby field without the burden of being the favorite, a label that probably will go to either Wood Memorial winner I Want Revenge or Florida Derby victor Quality Road.
After stowing the last of my gear in the pickup, I pulled down on the garage door. While doing so, the corner of a large black box stored just inside caught my eye. It was my just-in-case box, and for a split second common sense told me I should raise the door and grab the box. But since we were just taking the Boy Scouts to Callville Bay, I didn’t think we’d need to be that prepared and let the door roll closed.
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