They put John Robinson on a pedestal Saturday, which is the last place he would want to be. This is a man who would not play a triangle if it called attention to himself, much less blow his own trumpet.
Ron Kantowski
Ron Kantowski is a sports columnist for the Las Vegas Review-Journal, covering a variety of topics and the Las Vegas sports scene.
rkantowski@reviewjournal.com … @ronkantowski on Twitter. 702-383-0352
These are my sports-related accomplishments as they stand so far: Bowling a 200 game when I was 15 and another when I was 52, batting three times against Dan Schatzeder in college without striking out and the one of which I now am most proud — not turning on TV when ESPN crawled under the covers with LeBron James to make news instead of report it.
With all respect due Woody Hayes, Bob Knight or Russell Crowe; with a dubious appreciation of Mike Tyson, for taking a chunk out of Evander Holyfield’s ear; or of Alec Baldwin, for taking a chunk out of his daughter’s rear end, I might have witnessed the ultimate meltdown at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway Bullring on Thursday night.
It was around 1:45 Saturday afternoon, or the 93rd minute World Cup time, when a native of the tiny West African nation of Ghana named Asamoah Gyan willed the soccer ball onto his left foot from between two U.S. defenders, then willed it into the back of Tim Howard’s net with a determination even more fierce.
There’s a scene in the classic 1975 movie “Dog Day Afternoon” in which bank robber Sonny Wortzik, played by Al Pacino, tells lover Leon Shermer, played by Chris Sarandon, that he has taken hostages and arranged for safe passage to Algeria.
It was August 1985 when the 15-year-old baseball prodigy with the sweetest baseball swing since Darryl Strawberry (bet you thought I was going to say Ted Williams) barged into the press box at Ricketts Park, home of the Connie Mack World Series in Farmington, N.M., asked if I was the reporter from the local newspaper and, if so, when did I want to interview him?