This Knievel keeps feet firmly planted on ground
Kelly Knievel remembers borrowing $1,000 from his sister and getting on a Greyhound bus in Montana. He had seen an ad for a sales job. He would go to Las Vegas. It seemed like The Thing to do. Or at least A Thing to do.
When he got off the bus at the old Union Plaza downtown, he was alone. No friends. No idea of where to go. No sales job.
He needed a place to say. And a roommate, to make his sister’s money last. The candidates at the bus depot looked a bit sketchy.
And they said on “Wide World of Sports” that his old man was the one with the guts.
This was 1982. Kelly Knievel had his old man’s name, his blue eyes, his easy smile, his lust for adventure. Those helped open doors. Other doors, he opened himself.
He now owns a small construction company. He has a wife, Shelli, and she has a daughter, Lily, a cheerleader at Faith Lutheran High. He owns the rights to Evel Knievel’s name and legacy. That’s still huge, as big as the belt buckle on his dad’s old leather jumpsuit. After the holidays, Kelly Knievel will launch a new beer called Daredevil Ale. “True Evel,” he says in deference to his father, who died in 2007.
Kelly Knievel also plays a lot of golf.
Evel Knievel’s first-born child won the city amateur about 10 years back. In May, he finished second in the Southern Nevada Amateur. In June, he won the Dragon Ridge Invitational.
On Saturday, he shot 1-over-par 73 at Boulder Creek Golf Club, putting him in a third-place tie after the first round of the Southern Nevada Golf Association Championship.
His playing partner, J.T. Mohlman, shot 67 and sits second heading into today’s final round. Mohlman is 19 years old. Knievel is 51.
When Knievel was Mohlman’s age, he was hitting ’em stiff in college in the other Las Vegas, the one in New Mexico, for New Mexico Highlands.
“College is usually not for men named Knievel,” said the one named Kelly.
It wasn’t for him, either.
He pounded the fairways until it was too cold to play golf. When it was too cold to fish, he quit school.
Today, he describes himself as a “competitive amateur golfer.”
Dad, he says, was pretty competitive on the golf course, too.
Kelly said on Evel’s good days — any one not spent in the hospital — his dad played to a 4 or 5 handicap.
Evel liked to play golf with friends, for significant sums of money.
Kelly likes to play with friends, for significant amounts of sunshine, fresh air and exercise.
Conquering canyons and water hazards with a 5-iron can be just as satisfying as doing it on a Harley Davidson. And the risk is minimal.
Knievel showed me a nasty scar on his right wrist, the result of a motorcycle spill when he thought he might join the family business. There are others, on his arms, legs, torso. Wherever there is skin, or bone.
When one makes a mistake on the golf course, about the worst that can happen is a double bogey. A six is much preferred to six months in traction.
Kelly Knievel says there’s something to be said about playing ’em where they lie, instead of doctors playing you where you lie when fountains get in the way, or when you clear 12 double-decker buses out of a possible 13.
THREE UP
■ Before he became an exemplary public servant, former District Judge John Mendoza, who was 83 when he died Tuesday, was the captain of the undefeated, unscored-upon 1944 Las Vegas High state championship football team that rode to out-of-town games in the backs of dilapidated pickup trucks because of gas rationing during World War II. Mendoza, I’m told, was sort of like Frank Merriwell, were Frank Merriwell a real person.
■ Of the 40 Southern Nevada athletes who signed college letters of intent Wednesday, 11 signed with UNLV, and seven signed to play baseball at UNLV. Apparently, Rebels coach Tim Chambers didn’t get the memo that says one can’t win with local kids.
■ I was thinking about writing about the Las Vegas Sin’s 28-20 victory over the defending champion Los Angeles Bare Midriffs on Friday night, but that would have been my third column about the Lingerie Football League this year. After five, I heard they give you a smoking jacket and a pipe, like Hugh Hefner.
THREE DOWN
■ Kyle Busch’s main sponsor (M&M’s) has pulled out of the season’s final two races, one of his associate sponsors (Z-Line) wants somebody else to drive in his place and Hindenburg Blimps went out of business in 1937. So if the Las Vegas leadfoot wants to keep mashing the throttle in NASCAR, he had better stop wrecking fellow drivers during caution periods and making sponsors mad.
■ If Michigan State and North Carolina can play basketball on an aircraft carrier in San Diego Bay, what’s to stop the Lady Rebels from playing UC Riverside in the Las Vegas Gold & Silver Pawn Shop parking lot?
■ The Lon Kruger Era at Oklahoma began with a difficult 78-74 victory over Idaho State of the lightly regarded Big Sky Conference. Afterward, Kruger said it was a good win the Sooners could build on.
Las Vegas Review-Journal columnist Ron Kantowski can be reached at rkantowski@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0352. Follow him on Twitter: @ronkantowski.
