Everyone is pissed at Billy Cundiff. On most days, no one really cares enough about him to develop any emotion whatsoever. But this isn’t most days–the kicker is coming off his best game as a pro, one of the best games by any pro, really. Normally, that would afford him…

My childhood can only be described as traumatic. When my mother wasn’t finding excuses to hand down a beating with her big wooden spoon (You tracked dirt in the house! Where’s the big wooden spoon?), there were other people eager to scar me. In eighth grade, I wanted nothing more…

This won’t do. This won’t do at all. Tony Romo is absorbed in the book he’s reading, which would otherwise be fine, except this is football, not nerd camp. The newly named third-string quarterback of your Dallas Cowboys sits on a cushy blue couch in the Valley Ranch locker room…

It’s vacation time. Has to be done. The heat here is unbearable, and the sports aren’t much better–a good time to flee Dallas. A chance to get my head right, a little calm before things pick up. By the time you read this, I’ll be sunning myself on the beaches…

About a month ago I was in Shreveport on the back end of a 10-hour poker session. I was struggling to keep my eyes open. The cocktail waitress who was ostensibly en route with my coffee hadn’t materialized. It was hardly surprising. The employees at the Hollywood Casino move (and,…

“Ernie Kent” sounds like a superhero name, or at least the name of his alter ego. Which is fine, because his mannerisms and speech fit that mold. Kent–the University of Oregon basketball coach by day, USA junior world team coach by off-season–shoots across the court like the Flash and grabs…

It’s June in Dallas–a horrible combination. The weather is hot and sticky. The bars are crowded. Bastard children with no one to school them run wild in the streets. And, of course, the Texas Rangers are performing their annual rendition of Dead Men Walking. Makes you wish you were somewhere…

I didn’t do it. I swear. I wish I had, but this time someone else orchestrated the whole wonderful scheme. And bless them for it. Bill Parcells, new head coach of your Dallas Cowboys, is sitting at a table surrounded by a media horde. He’s rubbing his forehead in one…

One week later, no one can forget the Great Mavs Collapse of Game 6. It’ll probably be that way forever. It’s going to become one of those “where were you when” scenarios, so I’ll share. I was playing poker with my buddies–why go to the game when you can watch…

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Don Nelson wasn’t supposed to be at the podium talking about the Western Conference Finals and looking at ease. He was supposed to be yelling or sobbing or venting somehow–wearing a white jacket and sitting in a padded room. Let’s go back to the season’s…

Strange things happen on Saturday nights in Dallas. People roam the streets freely, wildly intoxicated and blissfully oblivious. It is a night of escape. Sometimes, if the drugs and drink are strong and mixed together properly, the night yields an epiphany. Last Saturday was such a night. I watched the…

The back-road drive into Tomball is stereotypical Texas. Cattle graze on long, flat prairies spotted with yellow dandelions. Trees are scarce; rolls of sod and wire fences mark the land. Large state and American flags fly at ranch entrances. A portable sign with black plastic letters, the kind youd find…

This may surprise you, or even lower your opinion of me (if that’s possible), but I’ve never watched the NFL Draft. It always seemed like an incredible waste of time, an exercise in nerd-dom. Oh, I would tune in periodically during the day and check the “draft crawl” at the…

It was a dreary day late last spring, and SMU head coach Phil Bennett was standing to the side of the field wondering why the weather wasn’t cooperating. The skies were overcast and the ground was damp–far from ideal conditions for SMU’s “pro day,” a workout where NFL scouts evaluate…

This is where I’m supposed to tell you about how ugly the Texas Rangers season could get, or how it looks as though you people will be enjoying hockey well into the summer’s heat. I could do it, but I’d be faking it–even more than usual, if you can believe…

SURPRISE, ARIZONA–I think Einar Diaz is laughing at me. I can’t be sure. He’s talking with a pitcher, who also happens to be Latino. They are speaking Spanish. I don’t speak Spanish. I had plenty of opportunities to learn–I “studied” the language in high school, and my father, who is…

Saw a story in the paper. Local sports columnist wrote a piece from the road. Lots of punctuation. Very straightforward. Very punchy. Very daily newspaper. I used to be a daily guy. Didn’t agree with me. I decide to give it another shot. I resolve to cover the men’s Big…

SURPRISE, ARIZONA–A quick look around the Rangers clubhouse leaves me feeling that, despite the overall luxury, this is less a professional locker room than it is a halfway house for could-have-beens, used-to-bes and hope-they-still-cans. It’s a sad sight, a total downer. (They have buckets of workout powder in this joint–Creatine…

SURPRISE, ARIZONA — I’d heard bad things about Carl Everett, horror stories from sportswriters who said he could be tempestuous and condescending. Whatever, I thought. That’s news when an athlete isn’t that way. I’m not a beat writer. I don’t hang around every day; I fly low. The following is…

SURPRISE, ARIZONA–If baseball has a paradise, this is it. Surprise, where the Rangers now share a palatial 132-acre facility with the Kansas City Royals, is the polar opposite of Port Charlotte, Florida, the retirement swamp where the team had trained since 1987. Here there is more energy, more life. Periodically,…

This is not a discussion Mike Modano wants to have. Later, maybe–a month from now or after the season is finished. But not now. He thinks it’s premature to talk about his MVP candidacy, and besides that these hockey types don’t go in for that sort of self-promotion. There’s an…