I didn't come here today to lament the transformation of my March Madness bracket into toilet paper, to publicly apologize to anyone I might have maimed with a well-intended string of beads during Saturday's St. Paddy's Parade or to rehash Monday night's 16-10 loss by the Dallas Observer co-ed softball team, during which -- and I'm not shitting you -- these non-traditional phrases were uttered in between spits, crotch adjustments and swigs of Bud Light: "Oops," "Par-teee!," "We don't suck nearly as much this year" and "Explain to me the tracking lines." Yes, thanks for asking, my head still stings from the latter. I...I...forget it...I can't even begin to explain.
What I did want to jump-start before hopping a plane to Phoenix for a week at Texas Rangers spring training -- also not affiliated with Ameriquest -- is a little Metroplex Mount Sportsmore talk. Mike Modano's American record 503rd goal over the weekend got me to thinking. Obviously, when you think Stars, Mo is it. As in, if you had to choose one consummate Star to slap up on a local Mount Rushmore, he'd be the one, right?
But what about the other sports? Whatever criteria. Whatever era. The only rule: One face per team.
My picks, to be, ahem, etched in stone:
Dallas Stars: Mike Modano. Dallas Cowboys: Roger Staubach. Texas Rangers: Pudge Rodriguez. Dallas Mavericks: Dirk Nowitzki. Dallas Sidekicks: Tatu. FC Dallas: Lamar Hunt. SMU: Doak Walker. TCU: Bob Lilly. UTA: Tim McKyer. UNT: Mean Joe Greene. Deep Ellum: That giant black dude who used to work the door at Monica's. City Hall: Ron Kirk. Media: Randy Galloway.
And yours? Happy carving! --Richie Whitt
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