The legends now broadcast from the booth in the sky:
My high school Friday nights mainly consisted of driving down Hempstead Turnpike in Long Island, zigzagging through an endless series of would-be Joey Buttafucos. What I missed is the kind of atmosphere author
Many moons ago, as a wayward 20-something with a Lonely Planet guide and a Eurorail pass, I made it to the All-England Club. One problem: It was March. I could only sample the museum (nice towels!) and vow to one day return as a ticketholder.
I've sat in the Big House, the Rose and Cotton Bowls, but never have I experienced the Iron Bowl, The Battle for the Golden Egg or The World's Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party. If you pin me down to one SEC locale, give me the Grove at Ole Miss. You'll find me sitting under a free magnolia tree sampling the black-eyed pea corn bread and fried chicken. The women in sundresses won't hurt the cause either.
It lacks the bloodthirstiness of Celtic-Rangers, but it's the best American sporting rivalry outside of Michigan-Ohio State. "Detestable people," UNC grad and former
It was my second of four Olympics and my first Summer Games. Along with the general madness of Athens, an intoxicating mix of history and sophistication, the Games marked the scene of the