Tuesday, June 4, 2002
Weekend promises wall-to-wall events
By Mark Kreidler Special to ESPN.com
Oh, sure, we're going to pay for this. It's not like there isn't a karmic retribution coming somewhere down the line. I envision a weekend that begins with tape-delayed coverage of the Greater Lesser Open, is followed by a quick revisitation of the Marv Throneberry SportsCentury and concludes with some Sunday night baseball -- Brewers at Devil Rays, say. Interleague play with a twist (of arsenic).
Serena Williams facing her sister in the French Open final is just one of the weekend's true events.
And I know it's coming. But it looks like a trade we'll just have to make.
This is the weekend the multi-sports geek is rewarded for his annual suffering with an almost cosmic alignment of good stuff. I could go on, but before I do, check the owner's manual of that Fat Screen you bought at Al's Toy Barn last year: Does it have PIPIPIP?
You'll need that many pictures-in-pictures to make this work.
Because this, for the starved fan everywhere, is the weekend that was.
Some of it arrives by design. The French Open is almost always a good thing, especially if you enjoy the sight of red dirt sticking to a sweaty sock like a poodle on a bit of kibble and, about every second year, a player ranked 126th in the world making the final because he's a clay-court "specialist," meaning he plays four tournaments a year.
But take the French, add an all-American women's final, make it between two sisters, recognize that Venus and Serena Williams represent not merely the best tennis being played but, generally, the most all-around controversial and therefore fascinating -- do all that, and you have something beyond sport. You have an event.
Some of it arrives by Satan Delivery Service, which explains Mike Tyson in Memphis on Saturday night. The man has been declared the devil incarnate by two-thirds of the watching world, anyway -- isn't there a sponsorship deal here somewhere?
It's almost as if the boxing world will be disappointed if Tyson merely defeats Lennox Lewis at the Pyramid. If some body part of some man, woman or child is not ripped out, deep-fried and served to Tyson with a side of slaw, you're looking at a major letdown. It's tough being an entertainer.
Of course, Tyson costs money to watch. Inside the span of a few remote-clicks, you can hit enticing semi-freebies galore -- the NBA Finals, the Stanley Cup Finals, the World Cup Soccerthon and Group Hamstring Pull, interleague baseball, the Senior PGA, a real, live Triple Crown threat that does not involve Jason Giambi. And I haven't even gotten to the Rhein-Frankfurt NFL Europe tilt.
It's interesting how you get from OK to good to I'll-be-in-the-multimedia-room-for-the-next-three-days with just a dash of good luck. The World Cup normally is to the average American sports fan as National Public Radio is to ... well, to the average American sports fan: Vaguely exotic, with just a slight disconnect, and generally not followed for long stretches at a time.
But the U.S. team changed this year's dynamic with that stunning victory over Portugal, and now it's at least conceivable that we'll join the rest of the sentient world in discovering the joys and dramatics of a 1-1 tie. It's never been the easiest concept for Americans to get their minds around, though they'll take it in hockey most days without a major quibble. The World Cup is the single most-followed sporting event on the globe. You kind of wonder how they do it, starting games at 5 a.m. like that. (Oh, wait.)
War Emblem has left the competition in the dust during the first two legs of the Triple Crown.
It's just one of those weekends, by which I mean not one of those weekends at all. You'd usually find yourself thrilled to get any event with actual meaning attached. We get Lakers-Nets and 'Canes-Wings and War Emblem-All Comers, and that last one has got some history along for the ride.
It isn't merely that War Emblem is attempting, at the 1½-mile Belmont, to become the first Triple Crown winner since Affirmed in 1978; the horse also is attempting to become the most tested Triple winner ever. Back in 1937, or just before the advent of Court TV, a horse named War Admiral turned back 32 challengers in winning the Kentucky Derby, Preakness and Belmont, according to the AP story from which I lifted these numbers. In order to get his triple, War Emblem will need to have knocked off 40 other contenders.
Tyson-esque it ain't. This is a horse truly aiming to defeat the field -- and probably no greater test of a true champion than to prove it at Belmontian length. But at this point, it'd almost be shocking if something shocking didn't happen this weekend.
It is set up, that is, to go exactly in that direction, in the direction of astonishing and worth watching and maybe even worth remembering for some time after. And if there's a Poulan Weed-Eater Bowl-a-thon in our collective future as punishment, well, there are some weekends for which you're willing to pay the ultimate price.
Mark Kreidler of the Sacramento Bee is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.
