After the International Olympic Committee recently ruled it no longer considers amateur wrestling a “core sport,” that beginning in 2020 Grecos and Romans and freestylers of every ilk will have to petition for inclusion into the Games (and good luck with that), a fellow named Charles P. Pierce, an excellent writer of long-form magazine stories, said this latest out-of-the-blue IOC edict has caused outrage both serious and worldwide.
Being something of a veteran at the South Point showroom, I guess I would rank Sunday’s official NASCAR Daytona 500 viewing party there a little ahead of the Deja Vu Dance and Show Band, but not nearly as awesome as the Spazmatics. I’m blaming it on these new stock cars.
One of the endearing traits of the Nevada state high school basketball championships is that unlike in other states, the big schools cut down the nets — in a manner of speaking — first, on Friday night. Then they step aside to consider their scholarship offers and shoe contracts while the little schools play title games on Saturday.
When you jump over stuff — and through stuff — in the motorized mayhem that is the Nitro Circus, you know it’s not “if” but “when.”
There was palpable tension in the air as a rare hush enveloped the racetrack.
There’s a guy in town named Jay White, who sometimes sings the national anthem at Wranglers games. He also is the team’s emergency goaltender. But he’s known mostly for impersonating Neil Diamond. If you’ve been to a lot of Wranglers game, or the old Legends in Concert show at Imperial Palace, or on a cruise ship, then you’ve probably seen and heard him.
Perhaps this is oversimplifying it, but after watching UNLV come from behind and hold off San Diego State 72-70 at the Thomas & Mack Center on Saturday night, I think I might know what’s wrong with the Rebels.
Have some free time in the evening? Why not become a high school basketball official. But you will need to be in good physical shape, have a fine understanding of the rules, have thick skin, always be on the lookout for three seconds, and always have your shoes shined to a high-gloss finish.
It was national signing day, or thereabouts, and by now you know how it works on national signing day: A table is set up in a high school gymnasium, or someplace similar, and then Johnny Blue Chip and Mr. and Mrs. Blue Chip come strolling in, and the pep band strikes up the fight song, usually the “Notre Dame Victory March” or “On Wisconsin!”
Just after strolling into Sam Boyd Stadium and Rugby Mosh Pit, my line of sight was assaulted by an 1,100-pound flash of leg and upper thigh.
