Sports Authority

I worry about losing these experiences as horse racing dies in California.

First comes the freedom to move around. Horse racing is the only sporting event where fans—real fans, not tourists planted at reserved tables in the grandstand high above the finish line—are always in motion.

With 30 minutes between each race, horse players have ground to cover. Find a quiet place to review the program or Racing Form for the upcoming race. Then get moving. No time to waste.

My first destination is the paddock, the equivalent of a theater’s backstage. From there, look for a betting kiosk, a miniature slot machine that takes your cash, provides a receipt and pays back when your hunch finishes in the money.

A new basketball season beckons and something bizarre is happening at Golden 1 Center. The Kings believe now is the time to win an NBA championship.

I began to follow the Kings for a living in 1984. They were based in Kansas City. My newspaper sent me to Missouri to see what the fuss was about.

For the next 40 years, I never saw the Kings march into a new season with a win-it-all attitude. Until now.

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A friend was telling me how much he enjoyed small, low-profile sporting events. He mentioned going to Sacramento State games. I know the feeling.

I prefer a summer night at the River Cats over the frenzied, obnoxious environments of NBA arenas and NFL stadiums. Sportswriters are supposed to get excited by big showdowns and great athletes.

They wore me out.

There was a time when writing about sports meant more than watching games on TV and holding up iPhones at press conferences. Old sportswriters like me sometimes got to hang around with people they wrote about.

My top three hang outs were Jesse Owens, Bill Russell, Willie Mays and Mario Andretti. No introductions needed.

But there was another sports figure who made a big impression. His name was Dr. Donald H. Catlin. The doctor taught me lots about sports and the drive to win at any cost.

Hazel Jackson isn’t coming home.

The young woman who shamed community leaders and brought down Land Park’s “whites only” public swimming pool is buried in a mass grave in Pennsylvania.

Hazel is mixed with eight or 10 other people who died without friends, family or money in 1969.

A representative from Mt. Zion Memorial, the cemetery near Philadelphia International Airport where Hazel is buried, tells me: