Look past the call-girl cards that litter the street like confetti at Times Square on New Years, or the erotic billboards on the sides of trucks going down the neon-lit Strip, and you’ll see Las Vegas in its grace. You’ll see the fountains in front of the Bellagio dancing beneath the dry, Nevada sky, or the city calling your name as you look at it atop the Stratosphere, wooing you from below into an evening that never ends, where the casinos make promises and the liquor makes you believe them. Las Vegas, frankly, has to be the most freeing city there is. The energy provides an escape, like a tunnel, through your mountains of worries. Walk the Strip, ignore the nudity, get lost in the lights, and it all feels very divine. Down the Strip, across the Las Vegas Freeway, towering high above the surrounding bars, clubs, and tattoo parlors, Read More
Phil sits in Willie’s office at the Duck Commander warehouse. He’s telling a story, like Phil usually does.
Being with him in person is kind of surreal, like you’re having coffee with a cartoon. It looks like he came straight out of your television and sat in your living room—sunglasses resting on his head, camouflage bandana and pants, as if he’s been hunting all day, and a nest of a beard you could probably turn into a winter scarf… Continue reading
If you could have stood in the locker room before the fight, you would have thought an army was about to charge into battle. The energy gave you chills. The noise made your head throb.
As Robert Guerrero’s team, family and friends gathered around him, howling and chanting, Bob Santos stood quietly, questioning their naivety, nervously wondering if this would go down as the biggest mistake of Robert Guerrero’s career… Continue reading
On Tuesday, Ben Crane and the “Golf Boys” released their second single, “2.Oh,” as they continue to revolutionize the image of the PGA Tour. Our feature on Crane, “The Heart Of A Man,” was published in the Summer 2012 issue of Sports Spectrum.
Ben Crane was walking off the green after a birdie on the par-5 15th in the final round of the Wells Fargo Championship in Charlotte, NC… Continue reading
Blessings tend to make life’s imperfections dissipate like a cloud of smoke. That is, if you let them, if you focus on them, if you realize you’re blessed. If not, you’ll end up like most people, trapped in the smoky thickness with bloodshot eyes, probably coughing and complaining, your vision clouded, lacking sufficient depth and perspective… Continue reading
The drive from Lake Tahoe to Seattle is about 13 hours.
The road, like a river, winds its way through an array of landscapes—mountains, valleys, forests, desert, and high plains—as if God is showcasing His most beautiful paintings.
Nick Visconti is on the road, the river. He doesn’t second-guess his direction, just as water doesn’t question its current… Continue reading
There’s a mother driving her white Ford Thunderbird down a California freeway.
It’s 1994 and it’s lunch hour. It’s Orange County and it’s sunny. She’s on her way to Costco to buy groceries for her family, just a mile from her exit, when she realizes something.
But it’s too late… Continue reading
That summer, John Morris would sit in church every Sunday and feel his eyes well up. His wife would look at him, concerned.
“It’s okay,” he’d say. Then she would hold his hand.
But he wasn’t okay. How could he be?
How can you be okay when a player kills—kills—another player? When the town you’ve lived in for 25 years—Waco, Texas—is a media circus, the center of one of the most catastrophic scandals in college basketball history? When the school you love—your employer for the last eight years—is like an exploding building, collapsing in slow motion for the entire nation to see… Continue reading
There’s a stairwell that leads to a lonely apartment on Hinesley Avenue, down the street from Hinkle Fieldhouse.
Rotnei Clarke, one of the nation’s top college basketball players, used to crawl up the stairs to the second floor, casts on his feet, questions on his mind, doubts flying like arrows over the walls of his soul… Continue reading
When you grow up a Zeller, you have some big shoes to fill. And it’s not just because Luke and Tyler wear size 18 and 19 shoes, respectively.
The eldest brother, Luke, led Washington High School to an Indiana Class 3A championship, swooshing a miracle heave from mid-court his senior season in 2005. The middle brother, Tyler, the 17th pick in the 2012 NBA Draft, led the Hatchets to another title in 2008 and set an Indiana scoring record during his senior campaign. And to top it off, both received the illustrious Indiana Mr. Basketball award and were named McDonald’s All-Americans their senior seasons… Continue reading