We're actually toying with the idea of renaming this the Mark Cuban Award, or at least giving him a subdivision to call his own. Either way, Cubes is the man when it comes to drawing unnecessary attention to himself. That Dairy Queen thing? Nothing but an appetizer before the main course: Tim Rogers' balls. When Cuban threatened to slice the "fucking nuts" off of the D magazine editor--Rogers wanted to do a blurb on Cuban's fiancee--he locked up a lifetime achievement award in this category. Way to go, Mark, we're proud of you. But when you graduate to kicking the homeless, be sure you give us enough of a heads-up to send Jim Schutze out for a column. We suggest he spend less time playing Mark Soprano and more time helping his coach-GM find a center. Which brings us to...

At press time, there was no word on Manute Bol's religious affiliation, so Shawn Bradley takes the award. (Also, Bol was an inch too tall.) Bradley is entering his 10th NBA season and seventh with the Mavericks. Dallas, if you didn't know it before, you're a lucky town. This guy runs the floor with grace, has soft hands, an even temper and a mean jumper...or something. Actually, he has nothing. And his ability to dunk the ball is breathtaking. That's something you don't see much in the NBA--dunking--so it's good to have a guy who can throw one down. What's that you say? He misses them sometimes? He gets blocked sometimes? Mere details. If he knocked on our door, we'd convert. Or buy him a shot.

He's semi-retired, now appearing only in the Saturday editions, but for an engaging writing style, insight and dead-on perspective on local sports, he's still at the head of the class. Starting at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, then moving to the Dallas Times Herald and finally the News, Luksa has seen and written about it all. A winner of multiple awards, he's watched the transformation of the city's sports landscape for four decades--from Tom Landry and the Cowboys' 1960 inaugural season to the recent emergence of the Dallas Mavericks. He makes the price of a Saturday paper a real bargain. Unless you turn to the editorial pages; then you might be due a refund.

Dallas' first public golf course, the place where Lee Trevino got his start, stands as a sharp reminder that city government can sometimes get things right. With its two courses and extensive range and teaching facility, Tenison is an everyman's country club. It hosts 36 holes at two price levels. Tenison Highlands was refurbished in 2000 with five new lakes, smoother greens and 32 new bunkers and sports fees in line with its upper-end conditioning. Tenison Glen is a hilly, creekside affair more or less unchanged since 1914. You can hike this venerable course Monday through Thursday for a very democratic $14.

Something special happened in South Dallas last winter. First, coach Leonard Bishop's boys' basketball team completed its season with a 40-0 record and the state Class AAAA championship. But that was just the beginning of the good news. Soon after, the growing list of national schoolboy rankings, led by the prestigious USA Today and Prep Hoops USA polls, added to the accolades. Lincoln became the first Dallas schoolboy team ever to be selected the No. 1 team in the nation.

It may no longer be the newest venue in the area, but the 50,000-seat masterpiece is still the most enjoyable spot for the sports fan to visit. It's comfy, clean, fan-friendly and, face it, you can't beat fresh summer night air when you're watching a game. Often called one of the best parks in the big leagues, it's fun even when the hosting Rangers bullpen is off its game, which, we know, means three out of every four on a homestand. (Insert your generic Rangers pitching joke here.) But the reason the park is so wonderful is that there is so much more to it than the baseball being played on the field (much to Tom Hicks' eternal gratitude). There's the Game Baseball Museum and Children's Learning Center, the Grand Slam Gift Shop, Bullpen Café and Friday's Front Row Grill, plenty of rest rooms and concession stands. Opened in 1994, The Ballpark remains as much an attraction as the games played inside. Check that: more so.

We could suggest lots of places where they like skaters, where they even charge them admission. But what the hell is that? It's not skating unless somebody in a blue uniform chases you. Grab your board and get downtown! Start at the Masonic Temple at Harwood and Young streets for a backside nosegrind on the long sloping ledges in front; head two blocks downhill to City Hall plaza for a nollie heelflip in front of the mayor; kick-flip across the police memorial and past the fake cows; wind up at the best of the best, the front steps of The Dallas Morning News at 508 Young St. The railings there are perfect for a nice long feeblegrind or two: That's the most you'll get in before about 50 rent-a-cops come charging out the door with big-ass shields, helmets and baseball bats. Your board is your weapon, dude!

Tightfisted locals who carp about the upgrading of Dallas' scruffy municipal courses would probably have heart failure if they saw what Euless calls public golf. City-owned-and-run Texas Star is without a doubt one of the best munies in the nation, with fees almost to match. In Euless, every man (and woman) is king, which in this old game means mirror-smooth Bent grass greens, doting attendants at the clubhouse and a layout with some serious pizzazz. Cut from the Trinity River lowlands, the 7,000-yard Texas Star course wanders through untouched native grasses and dense oak forests. These "native areas" are in play on nearly every hole, and off limits for ball hawking should you decide to visit them. Add an abundance of picturesque water hazards and you have what professional course critics call "resistance to scoring." In other words, bubba, bring a buttload of balls.

Chest-deep in a swimming pool, no one can see you sweat. No one can see the flab flopping around either, which is another benefit of water aerobics, the fastest-growing form of exercise for the gym-weary boomer crowd. Tricia Moon's classes--ongoing at the DISD pool on Hermosa at Peavy and at the White Rock Athletic Club--combine high-energy aerobics, underwater weight and resistance training, some tai chi, a little kickboxing (so much easier underwater) and even a bit of go-go dancing. Moon keeps classes lively with a steady patter of jokes and encouraging words. Watching her go through the moves (at 43, she's all leg and lean muscle) is motivation to keep pushing when the urge is to dog-paddle. For three summers, Moon has led a popular (and addictive) Saturday-morning class at Rowlett's Wet Zone water park, where water exercisers jog, skip and leap against the strong current of the "river" pool. It's like fighting a riptide, and it's a killer workout. That class starts again next May.

So, it's pricey, but where else can you jog or walk on a shock-absorbing one-mile outdoor track set against 30 acres of lush pecan, red oak and cedar trees? Where else are the ducks, geese and squirrels so relaxed in their natural habitat they actually risk asking you for spare change? Face it, there is no place like the Cooper Fitness Center, which is why there is still a waiting list to get in. But with its two heated 25-yard, six-lane pools, its 4,200-square-foot weight training area, its sizable cardiovascular equipment area, its indoor basketball and outdoor tennis courts, its multiple saunas, steam rooms and whirlpools, its close association with the Cooper guest lodge, spa and clinic--hell, it just might be worth the wait.