Sports & Recreation

Every off-season around Thanksgiving, the local chapter of the Baseball Writers Association of America votes for a Pitcher of the Year from the Texas Rangers. Last off-season, they chose John Thomson. He is a nice guy, a decent pitcher. He also is a loser, at least that year. Let's be clear on this: The Rangers' best pitcher was a man who went 13-14. He lost 14 games! This may have something, something to do with why the Rangers sucked so tremendously hard in 2003.

It's not that we're anti-Quincy Carter here at the Dallas Observer. In fact, we thought he should have started at quarterback over Vinny Testaverde. Hell, we think he should probably still be in a Cowboys uniform. They cut him for drug use? Drug use? Really? If we cut Observer staffers for drug use, there wouldn't be a paper. But that's neither here nor there. What made the circumstances around Carter's release so damn interesting was the fact that Carter got cut for using drugs even though he constantly talked about God this and God that. He was big into God, you see. Which made us wonder if God had something to do with his dismissal from the Pokes. Was the Almighty exacting revenge against a drug user who hides behind his good name? We think yes.

Readers' Pick

Mavericks in playoffs

Since Scott Murray and his hairpiece moved on to bigger and better things, Dallas has enjoyed a rare period of top-to-bottom quality as far as sports anchors are concerned. It's a likable group of guys who don't try to turn every highlight into their audition reel for SportsCenter. (Though Channel 33's Bob Irzyk comes hauntingly close at times.) In any other city, Channel 5's Newy Scruggs and Channel 4's Mike Doocy would be co-captains of the team, dual yardsticks by which the others are measured. But this isn't any other city. It's Dallas, and Dallas belongs to Dale Hansen. Why? Because of moments like this: While wrapping up his coverage of Quincy Carter's release from the Cowboys, Hansen--clad in his usual training-camp uniform: the ugliest floral-print Hawaiian shirt available--said, "I should've known something was up with Quincy Carter when he saw me in this shirt the other day and asked me if he could smoke it." Then he threw it back to the studio, where an amused (and most likely horrified) John McCaa said, "Only Dale Hansen." Exactly. That's why he's the best.

Readers' Pick

Dale Hansen

White Rock Lake, as we all know, is one of Dallas' few naturally beautiful spots, along with certain rooftops downtown and Angie Harmon's belly. But the best way to see the lake is from on the water. The best way to do that is either in a sailboat or a one-seater. But who can afford a sailboat? So get yourself to the lake and get yourself in a kayak. KayakPower.com gives lessons for beginners through experts and even offers kids lessons. Not only is it a great way to get in touch with nature, it will give your arms quite a workout.

A-Rod was right: These guys are a bunch of no-talent punks who aren't fit to carry his Prada bag. So what if they turned themselves around. So what if they won many more games without A-Rod than they won with the former A.L. MVP. Right? Uh, right. Sticking with A-Rod's theory--the theory that suggests that all players suck, except him--means that someone outside the lineup must be responsible for the turnaround. And someone is. His name is Buck Showalter. The manager, in only his second year, has "managed"--see what we did there?--to turn a last-place squad into a contender. Considering the pitching staff and the fact that the lineup is pretty much the same as it was a year ago (with one notable exception), we thought we'd give credit where it's due and laud Buck. He's done a fine job.

Readers' Pick

Mark Teixiera

When it comes to sporting goods, you need a place that carries a full spectrum of gear for everyone, from wet-behind-the-ears beginner to grizzled veteran. You want the simple two-person tent you can afford right now while you're still figuring out if you're an outdoors person and the tricked-out eight-person portable hunting lodge that gives you a goal to work up to should you decide that, yes, urinating in the woods is your bag. You want the 10-pound dumbbells for when you're just kind of kicking the tires of the whole "getting into shape" thing and the 20-exercises-in-one albatross that will one day be used as a coat rack when this process comes full circle. You need crappy running shoes and state-of-the-art ones, Styrofoam coolers and iceboxes that rival the Sub-Zero fridge at home, plain-jane cotton workout togs and stuff made out of Gore-Tex and CoolMax and Double Dry. You need a place that has something for every activity that could even tangentially be considered a sport and at every skill level. And that place, my friends, is, as the jingle says, Academy Sports and Outdoors. Academy!

Readers' Pick

Academy Sports & Outdoors

We grew up loving Hoop-It-Up. Started by former D magazine Publisher Terry Murphy nearly two decades ago, it was a weekend that every weekend b-baller looked forward to, a chance to compete in three-man tournaments for bragging rights. But sometime during the past several years, it became an overly commercialized beast, one that had grown too huge and angry to be allowed to live. Even after referees were added, fights seemed inevitable, and the amateur fun and spirit of the enterprise had long ago dissipated. Better to have the memories than the impression made by Hoop-It-Up in its twilight years.

Bowling is one of the few things in life where it is almost impossible to think of a way in which it could be better. After electronic scoring entered the picture, amateur keglers were pretty much set for life. The shoes, the lanes, the pins, the balls--none of it requires any tweaking whatsoever, and, in fact, the enjoyment of the game would be lessened if there were any present. To properly experience the game, a pair of outdated shoes must be rented. The search for the perfect ball must take a minimum of 20 minutes. The next lane must be close in order to properly keep a running commentary of all the fashion/athletic misfortune taking place. The lane attendant must be buzzed over at least once a game to retrieve a ball or dislodge a pin. As John Goodman said in The Big Lebowksi, "Smokey, this is not 'Nam. This is bowling. There are rules." Beyond that, all that's required is exactly what you'll find at Don Carter's: a well-lit place in which to smoke cigarettes and drink beer from cans. A staff that's friendly without being pushy. An ample number of lanes so the wait is short if not nonexistent. A location off a major highway so just the right cross section of locals is present. Like we said, no tweaking necessary.

Readers' Pick

Main Event Entertainment

Various locations

Athletes come and go all the time. That's the nature of, uh, the game. Generally, it doesn't faze us. Most of the time, actually, we're happy to see them go. Most of the time, the athletes who are on the way out (much like the ones who will replace them) are condescending jerks we'd like to kick in the junk but can't because of our stupid lawyers and their "law concerns." Former Maverick Antawn Jamison wasn't one of those athletes. He was a good guy, always quick with a smile or a kind word. He was a real person, and that was the biggest loss of all. He'll be playing elsewhere next season, but many of us will be rooting for him. Especially our sports columnist, who, we think, has an unhealthy man-crush on the now-departed baller. He's extremely odd that way--our columnist, that is, not Jamison.

Ever since Don Nelson has been a head coach in the NBA, he's lamented the fact that he hasn't had a dominant center. Ever since you've been a Mavericks fan, you've lamented the same thing. And then, just when we all thought we'd die without seeing a true center in a Mavs uniform, rumors began to float that Shaquille O'Neal was coming to town. The Lakers were going to trade him here, people said, because he couldn't play nice with Kobe Bryant. It was a matter of when, not if, people kept saying. But those people were wrong. After a few weeks of reading the newspapers and checking ESPN, we realized something: We'd been duped.

In the year that the poker craze went mainstream, Dallas put its stamp on the newest, hottest pastime in America. (Granted, we told you about Texas hold 'em and Dallas' T.J. Cloutier back in 2001, but who's counting?) This year, SMU student David Williams came in second in the World Series of Poker main event, and the millions he won have given him a bankroll so that we'll probably see him on the circuit for years to come. But it's Dallas' sexy poker star who had the best cards dealt her way. Clonie Gowen is one of the big guns behind the Web site FullTiltPoker.com (along with superstars like Phil Ivey and Howard Lederer), she established herself as a player not just in one tournament but throughout the year and, most impressive, she played three times in the weekly poker game of some Dallas Observer staff writers. What higher honor is there?

Not since infamous basketball coach Bobby Knight hurled a folding chair across the hardwood has a piece of furniture gotten so much attention. But thanks to Rangers reliever Frank Francisco, collapsible chair throwing is once again en vogue. During a late-season game at Oakland, Francisco took offense to something that one of the A's fans was saying about his mama. (We don't care what anyone says it was really about--for a guy to get that heated, something had to be said about his mama.) Naturally, Francisco retaliated by grabbing a chair and throwing it into the stands. If there were an Olympic chair-throwing event, Francisco would have scored some serious points on distance and velocity, but he would have lost points on accuracy (he missed the intended target and hit a woman instead).

You could make a case that Dirk Nowitzki is a better player, or that Michael Finley was a better locker-room leader, but it would be hard to argue against Steve Nash being the guy who made the Mavs go. When he was in the lineup, the offense flowed. When he wasn't, the team looked like the Harlem Globetrotters after Curly Neal and Meadowlark Lemon--lots of run, not much gun. So, at least as far as his on-court ability is concerned, we're sorry to see him go to Phoenix. On the other hand, we weren't big fans of his outspokenness about the war (any athlete who pontificates about real-world issues makes us projectile-vomit) or his penchant for fleeing after practice before talking to the media. Then, he is from Canada, and they're a little odd up there, so maybe all of that makes sense after all.

Readers' Pick

Dirk Nowitzki

The secret ingredient that makes high school basketball so enjoyable at Forester Field House is this: The entire place smells like nacho cheese. High up in the stands or down by the court, inside the bathroom or just outside the front door. Everywhere. There's something about that smell, combined with sneakers squeaking on hardwood, that just means good times. The not-so-secret ingredient is the fact that Dallas produces some of the finest high school b-ball around. Last year, that meant the dominant Lincoln High girls team (we saw them almost beat a team by 100 points) and Seagoville High's LaMarcus Aldridge (we saw him beat a team by himself). This year, there's a good chance the thrills will be provided by Lincoln's point guard Byron Eaton, a flashy bulldog who cannot be stopped when he's on his game. Check him out, and do it at Forester.

Seriously, if you're going to act like "the biggest jerk in this park" (Rangers announcer Tom Grieve's words), you may as well make sure your actions are so assholish that Good Morning America talks about you. And Matt Starr did just that. At a June game between the Texas Rangers and the St. Louis Cardinals, Starr went after a foul ball. Problem was, he crashed into a mother and her 4-year-old son to do so. OK, sometimes you get carried away. But then, with the kid crying and the mother upset, the guy smirks and refuses to give the kid the ball. The crowd starts chanting at Starr to give up the ball. He refuses. Now, after a media firestorm during the next few days, he finally decides to give the kid the ball and buy his family some Rangers tickets. Which really disappointed us. See, if you're going to be a bastard, don't half-ass it. You missed your chance to do the normal, human, decent, caring, thoughtful thing. That ship had sailed, buddy. So, even though you're not perfect, you're still the best douche bag we have, and we honor you for that.

We recently played this course with two top-notch golfers, country club players who are very picky about where they play 18. They confirmed what weekend hackers like us had long suspected: Tenison Park's revamped course, The Highlands, is a jewel. The D.A. Weibring-designed course is a nice mix of tree, water and elevation changes. (The view from the tips, which we drive by on our way to our tee box, is often majestic.) If Tenison Highlands is packed up with foursomes, Tenison Glen is itself a very nice course that snakes around White Rock Creek. For those who need lessons (hello), The Range at Tenison Park offers great instruction and a nice facility from which you can spray your shots left and right.

Readers' Pick

Tenison Park Golf Course

Who really cares what the man does on the field? We sure don't. What we enjoy most about Johnson is what drew us to Michael Irvin and the rest of the bad boys from the '90s--he talks a lot, and it almost always pisses someone off when he does. That makes our job a whole lot easier, and we love him for it. You never have to worry about Johnson dropping a "no comment" or dancing around an issue. And there's something to be said for that. There's also something to be said for his use of humor. When he was first introduced to the Dallas media, he called owner Jerry Jones "coach Jones" and then, with a wry smile, quipped: "Hmm, I don't know why I keep calling him that."

Readers' Pick

Roy Williams

Seagoville High School hoops stud LaMarcus Aldridge spent most of his senior year trying to decide whether he would play basketball at the University of Texas at Austin in the fall or take his game directly to the NBA. This is the kind of decision you're faced with if you happen to be 7 feet tall and blessed with a point guard's game. Aldridge ultimately decided on UT (after signing a letter of intent, then changing his mind and declaring for the NBA draft, then changing his mind again), but his NBA dream will become a reality eventually, whether he decides to leave UT after one season or four. Maybe he'll even wind up playing for his hometown Mavericks. We can only hope.

You could say that the chief quality of a good columnist is that he or she always surprises the reader. Except that one can do so in bad ways, such as when a Metro columnist writes about his dog dying or the back-porch witticisms spouted by his parents. Fraley, though, surprises sports fans in good ways. He is a contrarian when appropriate, writing compelling columns about why the much-hated Barry Bonds deserves respect. He offers context in his columns, such as when he said that Buck Showalter's influence with management could be as damaging as Lou Piniella's power reign was to the long-term prospects of Seattle. He champions the underappreciated (TCU) and isn't afraid to call out local stars (Hank Blalock). That he is able to consistently surprise and enlighten sports fans, most of whom are already immersed in the day-to-day activities of their favorite players and teams, makes him a star in the local media lineup.

Readers' Pick

Randy Galloway

Fort Worth Star-Telegram

Known to some as "DJ Banger," this 7-foot discovery from the Congo won't offer a lot in the way of scoring or minutes played this year. But several facts about him already make him our favorite Maverick. One, with his wide eyes and small but prominent ears, he looks like Popeye Jones' younger, bigger, thinner brother. Two, he already is the toughest Mav on the team and a person who can at least put some hard fouls on various NBA jerks (we're looking at you, Doug Christie). Three, he was the inspiration for the best line in SI.com's Mavs off-season review: "You have to pay a $7 cover whenever DJ Mbenga spins, but it's worth it."

For a while there, we were thinking about giving this award to someone else, and then we realized something: We don't really know anyone else on the Stars. Not anymore. It seems as though all of our old favorites are gone. All of them, except Modano. Plus, the NHL might be on hiatus for a while, what with the impending labor negotiations, so we thought it might be nice to send Modano out with a bang, just in case hockey never comes back and he has to spend the rest of his days as a used-car salesman or something. After that, we figure he'll be homeless and sleeping in a gutter somewhere. Which will be sad. Very, very sad. So, congrats, Mike, and enjoy it while it lasts--you won't get this kind of attention at the soup kitchen.

Readers' Pick

Mike Modano

You just don't appreciate it, OK? The most important international event in Thoroughbred racing--more important than the Kentucky Derby, though not as historic--is coming for the first time to Grand Prairie. It's not like we get an abundance of championship sporting events in Dallas, and the Breeders' Cup is definitely the highlight of the international racing calendar, with $14 million in purses on the line. The Breeders' Cup Classic, worth $4 million itself, often decides the horse of the year, and each of the other seven races on the Breeders' Cup card can yield a divisional champion. Smarty Jones is out of this year's Classic after his early retirement, but you can still expect Pleasantly Perfect, who took the $6 million Dubai World Cup earlier this year and will defend last year's Classic win; Azeri, the finest female Thoroughbred in training in the United States; this year's top remaining 3-year-old, Triple Crown spoiler Birdstone; last year's Kentucky Derby and Preakness winner, Funny Cide; as well as champions from England, France, Ireland and all the places that host high-caliber racing. Also present will be the top riders in the world. This is the Super Bowl and World Series wrapped into one.

Admit it: You thought the Rangers would be awful this year. You didn't like any of the veterans the team acquired; you thought that the young players were a year away from being great--oh, and there was that little matter of trading away the game's best player, Alex Rodriguez. But the surprising pennant run the team made changed all our minds. The best part of the season was that so much of it was dependent on young players, guys who should be Rangers for the next few years. When a team builds itself with guys like Michael Young, Alfonso Soriano, Mark Teixeira and Francisco Cordero, it not only makes us pleased with the present, it makes us giddy about the future.

Just in case you're confused, we're talking about Donnie the son, not Don the father. Donnie, who is an assistant coach with the Mavericks in addition to being the president of basketball operations, wins this particular award, but not because of anything he did with X's and O's. Rather, he wins because the guy has some serious hoops skills. You wouldn't know it by looking at his now-doughy frame, but the man can play some ball. During the annual media-coaches Hoop-It-Up game, Donnie made area journos look like a bunch of Jerry's kids. He posted up, spotted up and drove the lane. He was like Michael Jordan out there. Only shorter. And with less hops. And with a slower first step. But trust us--he was like Michael Jordan.

Readers' Pick

Bill Parcells

If you're like us--and we hope you're not, because a trip to rehab is in your immediate future--the perfect game of pool happens between two events: the fifth bourbon-and-whatever of the night and the first broken glass. The former causes the game of pool to happen (because we're getting antsy and competitive), and the latter is caused by the game of pool (because we're antsy, competitive and a bit lax with our drink placement). Because of this, we tend to go to bars that have pool tables and not pool halls that serve drinks. Either way is fine; we're just telling you what we do. In that scenario, there is no finer place to play pool than upstairs at City Tavern. The tables are more than adequate, well-maintained without making too much of a production about it, spacious but not to the point where you start feeling all self-conscious, as if you should be wearing a tuxedo like one of those guys on ESPN2 at 4 a.m. But it's the rest of the package that seals the deal. It's like being in a well-heeled friend's basement: You can still watch whatever basketball/football/baseball/hockey game that's on from any vantage point, thanks to the flat-screen TVs hanging in the corners. The two friends not playing pool with you can jump knee-deep into a round of Golden Tee a few feet away. And the waitresses don't ignore you just because you're shooting some stick.

Readers' Pick

Clicks Billiards

Various locations

We really sweated about this one. Not because we're overly hairy, even though we are. Because we like so many sports talk shows. We love the laid-back stylings and intelligent banter of Dunham & Miller (and Gordon) on KTCK-AM 1310 The Ticket during morning drive. We're big fans of Newy Scruggs on ESPN 103.3 after that. We think Bob and Dan middays on The Ticket are extremely underrated--we almost always find the sports talk and the jackassery engaging. And we have a soft spot still for warhorse Randy Galloway on ESPN, especially when he lets Jennifer Floyd Engel from the Fort Worth Star-Telegram sit in (mee-yow). So we asked a buddy: What criteria should we use to decide? He said, simply: When you get in your car, you look at the clock on the dash. Depending on what time it is, when are you most excited to turn on the radio? That would be between the hours of 3 p.m. and 7 p.m., during The Hardline on The Ticket. Like all good radio shows, the chemistry of the entire cast--Mike Rhyner, Greg Williams, Corby Davidson and Danny Balis--is what sucks you in, keeps you around, makes you laugh. That and hearing Williams say things like "She's so horny she'd hump a rock pile if she thought there was a snake in it."

Readers' Pick

The Hardline

Following the A-Rod trade, someone asked the Texas Rangers owner if ticket holders--chiefly those who bought in after the "he's not going anywhere" comment by Hicks--would be given a refund. "There won't be any refunds," Hicks said, sounding like Paul Dooley in Breaking Away. "Of course not." The fans were all kinds of pissed off about that. For some reason, they don't like being lied to and then told that they're going to be fleeced, too. Ah, but the joke was on them, and us, too. Hicks, for the first time ever, actually knew what he was doing. By subtracting one of the league's best players, he actually improved the Rangers. Who knew? So let that be a lesson to you. Next time the Rangers and Hicks promise one thing and then screw you stupid, remember, they do so with your best interests at heart.

All the amenities of the most expensive country clubs at a reasonable price, and close to downtown--anything you want in your gym, the Premier Club has it. Great basketball courts with good games running during lunch and after work; racquetball courts; acres of workout equipment; a revamped Olympic-sized pool; an indoor running track; scads of classes offering the latest workout crazes (spinning, Pilates, yoga, etc.). Top that off with a wonderful cafe that offers delicious healthful meals and yummy smoothies, and you have a club that makes working out something you look forward to. Almost.

Readers' Pick

24 Hour Fitness

Various locations

With most professional sports franchises updating their facilities, there aren't a whole lot of old dogs panting out there anymore, which is why we're so fortunate to have Texas Stadium. Forget the Cowboys' drive to build themselves a new, modern complex that would be worthy of America's Team. What they don't understand is that they already have a first-rate facility. Sure, it's a few decades old. Sure, it looks like an erector set, and the cold, gray concrete is unsightly. Sure, the passageways smell of stale beer and the ground under the seats looks like someone just pissed there. But who cares? When out-of-towners visit our fair city and ask, "Why the hell is there a hole in that roof?" doesn't that make it all worth it?

Readers' Pick

American Airlines Center

2500 Victory Ave.

Ray Johnston is the kind of guy you don't wanna end up guarding in a pickup game at the local park. It's one thing to be shown up by the guy in the vintage Jordans and the headband cocked just so, who looks like he was practicing turnaround jumpers as soon as he could walk. It's quite another to have a 6-foot-nothing loan officer skipping bounce passes between your legs and swishing 20-foot jumpers on you all day. But that's what you get if you take Johnston, 25, lightly. You probably won't now that the secret's out. And it is most definitely out. The Mavericks invited him to play at a summer minicamp after watching him play in the Hoop-It-Up tournament, and then added him to the team's summer-league roster. Will he make the real squad this season? No way. But his dream is still alive.

Sarah Melton fell in love with basketball because she had to--there was no other choice. When you grow up in Indiana, that's what happens. In Indiana, there's basketball and...well, we're not really sure what else they have in Indiana because we've never been there. But we suspect it's miles upon miles of wheat and cornfields broken up by strategically placed basketball courts.

"Oh, come on, Indiana is great," says Melton, who became the Mavericks' PR director last year at the tender age of 27, making her the youngest person to hold that position in the NBA. "But you're either an Indiana fan or a Purdue fan. I grew up an Indiana fan, and my dad was a ref, so we always had basketball on the television. Always. I never missed an Indiana basketball game. Actually, this is a funny story. I went to Indiana [University]. Before I got there, I only missed one game, and it was in the first grade. My mom grounded me for not doing my science fair project, and she wouldn't let me watch the game. I'm a first-grade girl who can't watch basketball, but I'm really, really upset. The bummer about that was the game I missed was the game that Bobby Knight threw that chair across the court."

Luckily for her, she was conditioned at an early age--programmed to enjoy basketball but also to understand that strange things can happen. Chairs get thrown. Players bust your chops. Owners run out onto the court. That's basketball--at least it has been for Melton.

After college, she ended up with the Mavericks. Gregg Elkin, who worked as the sports information director at Indiana University, had moved to Dallas to head the Mavs' PR department. He had a job open for an assistant, and he offered it to Melton. She immediately jumped at it. But, after her first road trip, she wasn't sure if she had jumped in it.

"The first trip I went on was to Detroit," Melton recalls. "They had these old, almost high school-style, rickety locker rooms. They were very small. I thought I had enough experience to do the job, but I didn't really want to go in the locker room. I was like, 'This isn't for me.' But I just went in there and did my job.

"I have to be professional. And because of my age and my gender, I'm a minority in both in the NBA. I have to work that much harder to avoid the perception that I'm anything but a professional. The players test you. They say things. They'll comment on what I'm wearing or my boyfriend, but I don't let that bother me. I never have. I can't be the girl who dates the athletes. The job is too important to me. There are a lot of girls who work for teams who like the job but who want to date the players. So, yeah, I do have to work that much harder."

When Elkin left last year to become the PR director for the Texas Rangers, everyone just assumed that Melton would take over. And she did. She never even had to interview. Instead, Matt Fitzgerald, the senior vice president of marketing and communications, simply pulled her aside one day and told her the job was hers. But considering the NBA's history on gender equality, it wasn't a given that Melton would get the gig. Before Melton, there were only three other women serving in that capacity in the league. Today, there are five out of 30. And, at the time, Melton was the youngest person, male or female, to be an NBA PR director. She had a lot of history and politics working against her--all of which the Mavs, to their credit, ignored.

"There was never a question about using Sarah," owner Mark Cuban says. "Sarah has always done a great job. She relates well to everyone. She follows through and gets the job done. The moment I heard that Gregg was leaving, I promoted Sarah. I didn't care about her age, gender or anything other than her qualifications. It wasn't even a consideration. What's not to love about her?"

A year after becoming the boss, her job hasn't changed much. She still has to work with the players and the media and act as an intermediary between the two. But she's comfortable now, which is good for her and for those who might follow in her path.

"You know, I'm such a dreamer," Melton says. "I had predecessors. The three women that I know in PR were huge mentors for me. Knowing that they were doing what I always wanted to do gave me more motivation to work hard and get this job. It made me realize that it was possible. Now that I have the job, others will call me and ask me how I did things or how I got involved. Honestly, that's the greatest gift that I can have. That I can help these girls who want to do what I'm doing, that's the best thing. A girl from the Pacers who went on her first road trip last year, she called me first to ask me about my first trip. I was so happy to help her out. It kinda made me teary-eyed. "