Sports Authority
Fair Warning
Forget funnel cake. For me, the State Fair means horse racing. After losing my bets, I visit the barns where kids in white uniforms pamper hogs, sheep and goats. Then home.
Now there’s no horse racing. And apologies, but once you’ve seen 1,000 hogs tended by intense, apple-cheeked teenagers, there’s no need for 1,001.
Which leaves zero reasons to attend the State Fair.
Don’t blame the State Fair. Cal Expo is collateral damage, trapped in a mess of economic pressure, incompetence and indifference.
Pipe Dreams
Thanks to sports, Sacramento State University has become an institution of higher incoherence.
The school is on a mission to Jupiter without a guidance system. If there’s a realistic destination, it’s not on Google Maps.
Sac State’s foolishness became obvious several weeks ago when the athletics department circulated an email titled, “Future Hornet Stadium Survey.”
As an alumnus (graduation pending from 1978, nine units short), I couldn’t pass up the survey.
There are questions about how often I visit campus (about once a year), why I visit (to look at the buildings) and how often I attend Hornet football games (maybe once every three years).
Big Thinker
As Golden 1 Center nears its 10th birthday, I’ve been thinking about the people who brought the sports arena into existence.
There was NBA Commissioner David Stern, who orchestrated the eviction of the Maloof family as Kings owners and welcomed managing partner Vivek Ranadive.
There was Mayor Kevin Johnson, who followed Stern’s playbook and convinced the City Council to help finance Golden 1 Center.
Blind Ambitions
Every few years, the Kings produce a season that explains why they will never be much good for any length of time. This season is a perfect example.
Building a great NBA franchise is tough. But like many hard tasks, the formula for NBA success is well defined.
Start with two current All-Star players (three is better but two can work). Add maturity and leadership on the floor and in the locker room. Mix in an experienced coaching staff and supportive front office.
Major League Insults
People are excited about the team once known as the Oakland A’s playing home games in a minor-league ballpark in West Sacramento. Not me.
This fascination with the A’s and Major League Baseball is a sucker’s game, a modern version of the old carnival stall hook-a-duck.
The A’s are carpetbaggers. They swoop into town in search of accommodation, untethered to commitment. They linger as long as convenience allows, then vanish into the night. They won’t even mention their stopover city’s name.
Smart people tell me the A’s three-season residency makes Sacramento a contender for big league permanence, either through expansion or the A’s themselves. This is nonsense.
Hell On Wheels
Fifi Scott must be the only woman who flipped a car while skidding around the track at Hughes Stadium. She did this while chasing Stan Mulock and 18 other men in an automobile race not meant for women.
Scott was running 10th when she flipped with five laps to go. It’s unknown what type of car she drove, though she liked Hudsons. Reports from that night in June 1955 describe all 20 vehicles as jalopies, battered 1940s precursors to NASCAR machines.
Fifi walked away. Her jalopy died.
