Sports & Recreation

Arizona is blessed with a wide array of lakes, creeks, and rivers perfect for kayaking. The only problem is that if you want to see them, you have to devote a large chunk of your day to getting there. Tempe Town Lake is the solution to this problem. Unless you'd rather take a spin down a disgusting irrigation canal, Tempe Town Lake's the ideal spot for a quick afternoon workout for the urban 'yaker lucky enough to live close by. (Pending a refill, of course, which is scheduled to occur in November.)

The Valley's a real valley, in case you never noticed, and it's surrounded by numerous, picturesque desert mountains. Most are contained within governmental recreation areas, making them easy to park near and hike up. But not Red Mountain, located on the eastern side of the Salt River Pima- Maricopa Indian Community. The eye-pleasing reddish hue and steep, weather-worn cliffs make Red Mountain (a.k.a. Mount McDowell, FireRock, and Gunsight Butte) one of the area's most beautiful crags. At 2,830 feet in elevation, it stands higher than either Camelback Mountain or Piestewa Peak. Since the early 1980s, though, the mountain has been off-limits for hikers, climbers, and photographers who want something more than a shot from the Beeline Highway. Tribal officials tell us that local law prohibits even Salt River residents from walking the summit trail, thanks to punks who descrecated some of the mountain's centuries-old petrogylphs. No permits for hiking are issued, and those caught sneaking in for an illicit adventure should expect to be prosecuted if caught. Like it or not, some things are sacred.

Hiking to the top of Brown's Peak, the tallest summit of Four Peaks, can be a challenge for people in the best conditions. Brown's Trail, the typical summit route, is about four miles round-trip and steep in places. Hands-on scrambling is required near the top of the gully close to the summit. After a wet year, like this one, the upper flanks of Four Peaks can be covered with ice and snow. And that changes things for hikers — for the better, if you like adventure. When we hiked Four Peaks with a friend in mid-April, the gully was a long, glacier-like ice chute. The only group of hikers we saw summiting that day, besides us, had used harnesses and a climbing rope to belay each other up. Somewhat unintelligently, we forged our way up the chute using sticks like half-assed ice axes. Wearing crampons, those spikes you can attach to your shoes, would have been preferable for the hike. While crossing the chute seemed to invite a potential death fall, the sketchiest moment of the hike came when hikers above us kicked down a head-size boulder. The boulder rolled down the snowfield straight for us and banged into the stick we were holding. We descended a different way, spidering over the snowless summit blocks, ending up in thigh-high snow before finding the main trail. In other words, this spring outing felt like a day in the Himalayas. We're going back the next time it snows — and we'll be taking better gear.

At 7 p.m., the gate closes off the park road leading into Pima Canyon, near the northeast tip of Phoenix's extraordinary South Mountain Park/Preserve. Cars can't get back in there — but you can. A ranger told us recently that night hikers or bikers are good to go, even after hours. (He added that if police catch you out there past 11 p.m., they may tell you to get out but won't ticket you). We can't tell you where to park for a night adventure in South Mountain — the Pointe neighborhood surrounding the park entrance is private property. However, once there, it's a beautiful, peaceful walk by moonlight — or starlight — that anyone can do. Unlike a desert single-track trail, this hike is easy at night because it begins on a mile-long asphalt road (usually filled with parked cars in the daytime) and continues with another mile or so of pleasant dirt road winding through low hills. At night, we typically stop at the benches near the National Trail trailhead before turning around. True, the place can be spooky after the sun goes down — akin to a stroll down a long, dark alley. It's probably best to take a friend or two. But if you're the type who scoffs at such risk, hiking Pima Canyon at night offers a tantalizing trade of perfect safety for an hour or two of wilderness-inspired bliss. Did we mention it's cooler at night?

We've hiked the Grand Canyon to the Colorado River and back up in a day many times, and only once did the climb out nearly do us in. On that fateful trip, somewhere between Indian Gardens and the three-mile rest stop on the Bright Angel trail, as our quads seemed ready to pull off the bone, we vowed never again to forgo our traditional Grand Canyon training hike. Our friend came up with this one: You hike to the top of Piestewa Peak via the main summit trail, but instead of going all the way back down, you set off on the four-mile Circumference Trail. That will plug you back to the lower slopes of Piestewa and the main summit trail — which you then climb to the top. Although our buddy claims the second time up is easier, because you're warmed up, we've never found that to be the case — it always seems much tougher. But adding this hike to your training regimen will allow you to enjoy the Grand Canyon ambiance instead of worrying whether you'll need a mule to drag you out.

This may be our all-time favorite hike in the Valley. If you want to see the Sonoran Desert in its entire splendor, head to Usery and rock the Pass Mountain Loop hike. Just make sure it's between February and May when our unique vegetation actually looks fertile (for once). Yes, the saguaros will be tipped with white blossoms; the ocotillo will be covered in lush leaves and orange blooms; and the barrel cacti will glow with their hot pink, orange, and yellow flowers. And don't forget the Brittle Bush, and, ahem, Blue Dick that sprout from the dirt. We say, with such a rare opportunity to see some life in our desert, make the most of it with this eight-mile loop. You'll certainly get an eyeful as you wrap around the mountain's base, slowly climbing to make a steep descent on the other side.

For this award, we're not talking about a petroglyph "hike" that barely tips the quarter-mile mark. In our book, walking a few hundred feet in dirt just doesn't count. So when we trekked the two-mile Kiwanis Trail in South Mountain, we not only felt like justified hikers, we got to spy some sweet petroglyphs along the way. The trail runs through Snake Canyon and offers lush vegetation, a peaceful wash, and virtually no traffic; unlike Piestewa or Camelback, this trail hasn't grabbed the attention of the masses. The steady incline makes for an easy cardio workout and, just as you're ready to catch your breath, you may see an ancient spiral rock etching beyond the trail. The markings are left over from our beloved Hohokam Indians, and it's believed that the trail was used as a trade route. Who would have thought that history and exercise could make such a lovely pair?

Grandpa is pushing 90, and he's on the way out. A couple strokes down, he's still got enough fire to get out of bed and into a wheelchair (but that's about it). Snap out of your denial and take the old soul out for a stroll in our beautiful desert on the Accessible Trail at Papago Park. This paved path stretches for 1.2 miles, but if the old-timer ain't up to the whole thing, a quick turnaround is always an option. This "hike" is relatively flat, with a few gentle slopes and zero climbing. Still, it offers some nice views of the local rock formations and surrounding desert sprawl that can be seen from any height — wheelchair or standing. The trail is plenty wide for a large group of folks, and last time we were there, representatives from all three generations of our family went along for the stroll.

Sure, walks around the block get the pup to stop being such a spaz (and keep the little guy from doggy obesity), but, just like humans, sometimes canines need a little change of scenery. We recommend Shaw Butte for your dog's next outdoor adventure. Heading west from the trailhead, take trail 306. The uphill trek starts off with a wide dirt service road that climbs a steady incline to reach the Butte's cluster of metal towers. It's a sturdy 1.5-mile hike for Fifi or Fido. From the top, feel free to turn back and cruise downhill. Or push yourself and your companion to make the descent on the other side of the mountain to complete a four-mile loop. Be warned: this part can get a little rocky (we saw a dog with hiking booties on its paws one day — no joke). Either way, we've spied plenty of pooches on this trail, and those four-legged energy machines looked like they were loving every second.

We know too many parks in the Valley where dog owners take over, allowing their antsy and often-aggressive canines to run free and trample (sometimes literally) the rights of all others. Time and again, we have fantasized about "rescuing" some feral pit bulls from south of the border and setting them loose in said parks as we announce to the other dog owners, "Oh, don't worry. They're really friendly." We are heartened by this expansive, fenced-in facility (with little dogs on one side separated from the bigger dogs on the other) just north of the tennis center south of Glendale Avenue. Sure, it gets crowded on occasion with both dogs and masters, but everyone seems adult about how to negotiate — none of that sense of entitlement to let their animals do what they want and damn the rest of the world. Just recently, we saw a Jack Russell terrier cozy up to a mini-daschund in a corner and make friends. Before you knew it, a couple of nosy beagles cozied up to the pair and a coffee klatch (minus the joe) ensued. It was a Kumbaya moment that brought a smile to our faces.

It doesn't take a whole lot to please a dog — a field and a ball will often do the trick — but the city of Gilbert is home to a park for pooches so impressive that even humans have taken notice. Cosmo Dog Park is widely regarded as the best dog park in the East Valley and was even nationally recognized in June by Dog Fancy Magazine as the fourth-best dog park in the country. The four-acre park welcomes all types of dogs — even the most anti-social hounds can unwind in the park's fenced-off section, for timid pooches. And, of course, there's the lake, complete with a fountain and dock for any pup ready to test his sea legs.

This three-acre neighborhood park has it all: basketball courts, sand volleyball pit, grassy open spaces, a hippie labyrinth complete with a Dalai Lama quotation set in one of many tile mosaics, an adorable skate park with its own half-pipe, and the most wholesome people-watching this side of Mill Avenue (which isn't far, in case you have a hankering for some Mojo fro-yo). The park itself is a playground for all ages, but tucked in its southeast corner is a thoughtfully appointed and newly renovated sensory playground. Old-school swings, slides, ride-ons, and climbing/hanging contraptions balance out the giant bongo and percussion section, meandering paths, shade structures, rock walls, and mini-Mt. Hudson. There's even disability-friendly equipment and a splash area. Gandhi did say that to teach peace, we must begin with the ankle-biters. Playgroup/drum circle, anyone?

Makutu's Island is like Chuck E. Cheese on steroids. It has taller slides and higher tubes, plus nets for crawling. And it's more colorful — and possibly even louder — than its mousy cousin. On a busy day, packs of screaming kids run through the 20,000-square-foot facility, sliding down poles, climbing across catwalks or plunking tokens in the game room. It may sound like your version of Hell, but your kids will love it. We find it's best to try to keep up with the romp — though it's true one of our fingers may never be the same after it was tweaked on a rope bridge. Toddlers and post-toddlers who find the action intimidating can play in a slower-paced corner with small slides and fun blocks of foam.

Got a kid who's got the wiggles? Get over to Pump It Up, where even in the dead of summer, kids can get their bounce on in a multi-room setup with huge slides and a whole neighborhood of bouncy houses. Be sure to consult Pump It Up's website before you load the kids in the minivan, as this is a place mainly meant for birthday parties (and we highly recommend them — the kids love it, the staff is friendly and helpful and you won't wind up with icing all over the walls of your house) but Pump It Up does have regular discounted bounce times for kids and even some "cosmic-style" light show stuff for the tween/teen set.

Ever get the urge to jump around like a kid sucking down Pixy Stix and jamming to whatever pretty-haired teen idol of the moment is dominating the charts? Go on, admit it. There's no shame in loving a good bounce. Chandler's jumpstreet offers a unique opportunity to relive your childhood by jumping much, much higher than your feeble muscles would normally allow. It's a pretty simple concept: a warehouse full of giant and connected trampolines allowing you to bounce around laughing until you ache. You pay by the hour — but, trust us, an hour is pretty much all you'll need to feel wiped out. You're too old for this and you know it, but you're going to love it anyway.

We're not easily spooked. We usually find the sight of geeky teenage boys growling at us from behind Halloween masks more funny than scary. But Fear Farm makes it easy to suspend disbelief for a few hours. The sprawling setting — three sections of dark trail through a cornfield and one old building on the outskirts of Glendale — is certainly a big part of the attraction, and the scenery is artfully rendered, but what really separates Fear Farm from the pack is the performers. Unlike a lot of cheesy haunts looking to cut labor costs with motion censors and pneumatics, almost every scare at Fear Farm comes courtesy of a flesh and blood actor. Those actors are good, too. We're not sure how Fear Farm attracts the talent it does (perhaps being almost the only game in town on the west side because the east is saturated with similar attractions?) but each and every pretend monster at Fear Farm seems to be obsessed with the idea of scaring the hell out of us. It's all about going the extra mile. For example, the chainsaw-wielding bad guys chase their victims out halfway to the parking lot when they've got a real screamer on their hands, which is why you're likely to get startled just walking around the grounds or waiting in line.

Considering that it's crammed into the upstairs of a family fun center specializing in arcade games, miniature golf, and go-carts, it's nothing short of amazing that The Gauntlet manages to feel like a must-see Halloween attraction. Though the space is small, there appears to be no expense spared and no detail unrefined. Take the live mice, for example. Those with an acute case of musophobia are sure to squeal as they're forced to walk over a piece of Plexiglas that gives a great view of the little critters. Likewise, the overdone execution and dungeon scenes are lushly designed with blood and guts galore. The maze is cramped at points — those people lured to attractions that advertise such-and-such square feet of fright will probably want a longer ride — but each corner of The Gauntlet reveals something worth seeing, which makes it a must-see for any haunted house fan.

We're not sure how or why they appear, but you know it's the Christmas season in the Valley when saguaros atop Phoenix's two tallest points — Camelback Mountain and Piestewa Peak — get the Griswold treatment. We're not sure who lugs bulbs, garland, and battery-powered lights more than 1,000 vertical feet up the rugged trails, but it fills our hearts with holiday joy every time. The decorations appear and disappear mysteriously, as though they're the work of Christmas elves dispatched to the desert to bring a little Yuletide cheer, and they do more to get us in the spirit of an Arizona Christmas than even repeated viewings of It's a Wonderful Life, delicious tamales, or St. Nick in a Speedo.

Just after Christmas, the Valley's most prestigious Arabian horse farms throw open their gates and let the public see what the fuss is all about. It's an unexpected blend of equine beauty, foreign money, and sophisticated social networking. And for five days (this time around the days are December 29, 2010 through January 2, 2011), the rest of us poor schlubs are invited to join in the fun. The allure of these stunning creatures is undeniable — words like "sensual" and "seductive" are thrown around. In truth, such words are accurate, even to the most cynical observer. The hoofed performers even steal the show from the chic Buenos Aires crowd that mingles on the lawn in Armani and stilettos. And the occasional sight of a prancing foal will stop you in your tracks. In a word: "Whoa."

This place is a little hard to find, tucked in the back of a popular shopping center, but it's totally worth the search. The space offers two pole-dance studios — one large one for group classes, and a smaller space for private, all-female parties. We hear women of all sizes and ages who are "taking pole" asking each other in the hallways, "What level are you at now?" — as if it were any dojo in town. These gals are serious about developing core strength and six-pack abs by wrapping and gyrating around poles and cheering each other on. It's a classy environment (really!) where soccer moms can feel comfortable popping in for a pole class, then picking up some groceries at Trader Joe's. Even though it's an all-female gig, we suspect quite a few husbands and boyfriends out there are appreciating Express MiE about now, too.

The ideas of hockey and ice may be a strange concept for many Valley residents, so a drink or two might be in order to get you to warm up to the idea of hanging out in the freezing cold. The Alltel Ice Den understands this, which is probably why they've included a bar in their already excellent facility. The 120,000-square-foot, state-of-the-art ice rink offers youth hockey leagues for all ages and, for the parents, The 18 Degree Neighborhood Grill — a sports bar located in the arena, where the only ice you'll have to stare at while the kiddies are skating is safely floating in your gin and tonic.

If you've ever wondered which magical rock fantasy-gaming addicts are hiding under, look no further than Gamers' Inn. The place is heaven for serious gamers, with 500-plus board games, dollar-an-hour multiplayer LAN stations, and a selection of Magic: The Gathering cards that would rival the One Ring in evil power if placed in the wrong hands. You know those crazy gamers that you hear about, the ones who pee in soda cans and skip sleep so they never have to put their joysticks down? Those people probably train here. Gamers' Inn is open 24/7 and provides everything you need to keep your multiplayer first-person shooter going all night. Don't have a dungeon master for your RPG? You'll find one here. Mom tired of hearing zombie groans when you play House of the Dead in her basement? Head to Gamers' Inn, where you can be alone with your infernal addiction. To survive among this crowd of serious gamers, you'd best come prepared with a killer deck of cards or a kick-ass Warhammer army, a rested mind, and lots of caffeine pills.

Caswells beats any other indoor shooting range in the Valley, for a number of reasons. First, Caswells is a firearm retailer, which means visitors can buy or rent a wide variety of guns and ammo. The indoor range at Caswells has awesome air conditioning, so patrons don't have to sweat it out while shooting, and the targets are movable (they operate on an electronic system, so shooters can adjust their distances more precisely). The indoor shooting booths are side-by-side, but each is relatively private — at least, private enough that shooters don't get dinged with brass casings from their neighbors' stall. There are 11 stalls, and the adjustable targets for each reach a maximum of 75 feet. Prices are reasonable, too — $15 per person per lane rental and $7 gun rentals. Add the fact that ladies get free lanes and gun rentals on Tuesdays and Fridays, and there's little doubt that Caswells is the best shot for Valley gun enthusiasts.

The junior marksmen program at Rio Salado Sportsman's Club focuses on small-bore (.22-caliber) rifle shooting, and boasts some of the best junior marksmen in Arizona. Shooters who've gone through the program at Rio Salado include two-time National Junior Olympics competitor Tanya Gorin; Christine Costello, who recently graduated from the University of Nebraska on a full scholarship from the Huskers rifle team; and Joyce Kim, who was named Smallbore Junior of the Year by the Arizona State Rifle and Pistol Association in 2008. The program is for marksmen ages 10 through 20, and focuses on safety first: the coaches, who include Ed Roberts and Myles Gorin, are all certified through the National Rifle Association and say they've never had a single accident in the junior program. It's a social activity for almost everybody, too — the kids spend time together away from the firing line, most of the childrens' parents join them for weekly practices, and at the end of the season, there's always a big party.

Ben Avery is the largest publicly operated shooting facility in the United States, sprawling over 1,650 acres near Lake Pleasant. It has a proud history among sportsmen and was the site of the World Shooting Championships in 1970. Gun enthusiasts and law enforcement officers regularly practice on the main and specialty ranges, which include an archery range. Ben Avery also has a Clay Target Center for skeet and trap shooting, and a large campground away from the ranges. But the main thing that sets Ben Avery apart is the surrounding landscape — shooters get to take in some great views of the surrounding mountains and desert plains while honing their marksman skills.

You wouldn't necessarily know it by reading the local daily newspaper, but tens of thousands of Arizonans go dove hunting every year starting September 1. If you're not a hunter, the only way to tell for sure that dove-hunting season is approaching is if you go to Walmart and spot a 12-foot-high pyramid of shotgun-shell boxes on sale. We know it's a popular activity because we keep getting pushed out of our favorite spots. That's not necessarily because more people are choosing to shoot the world's symbol of peace — hunting is a dying sport, in general, by many accounts. But Arizona's fast growth (before the recession) has either swallowed up many of our old hunting grounds or caused more people to swarm onto the ever-shrinking good spots. In the past few years, though, we've found success (and our birding limit, or nearly so) in fields around Stanfield, just south of Maricopa. We won't tell you exactly where our spot is — duh! — but it's a big area. Just drive along the access roads to the local farms until you find a good place to hang out — far away from any "No Hunting" signs or inhabited buildings, of course. When you're done, you can barbecue the birds in the field — or follow our lead and stop off at Harrah's Ak-Chin casino for a buffet breakfast and a few hands of blackjack.

Lovers of the outdoors pooled their money this year to keep Lost Dutchman State Park open after severe budget cuts by the Legislature. After $26,000 was raised from private sources, officials announced the park — a major gateway to the East Valley's Superstition Mountains — would remain open. But there's no assurance the state will fix its financial problems next year. Whether open or closed, however, if you want to hike in the Supes, you can skip the park altogether and drive to the nearby First Water Trailhead. The access road, FS78, is just 0.3 miles past the turnoff for Lost Dutchman off State Route 88; the trailhead is about two miles down the dirt road. From there, you'll find a wide variety of trails to hike — including those that are accessible from Lost Dutchman, like the popular Siphon Draw trail. Best of all, the parking is free, while Lost Dutchman costs $7 per vehicle. Some websites state that a $6 Tonto Pass or other fees are required to park at First Water. The Forest Service assures us that's not the case for day hikers. The catch: Get there early before those free spots fill up.

For years, when hiking on the west flanks of the Superstition Mountains, we wondered where the hell that train-whistle noise was coming from. This year, we found out — it's the whistle above the mine at the Goldfield Ghost Town. And we're happy to know, because the mine turns out to be a slice of Arizona we should have experienced years ago. A grizzled-looking prospector type gave the tour into the mine for our small group of adults and kids. Though we were impressed right away by the authentic mine elevator, which went down 30 or 40 feet (as far as we could tell), the ambiance of the tour was set when the prospector/guide had to jump up and down to make the elevator descend the final two feet. Inside the dim mine shaft, where the ceiling is held up by rickety-looking wooden and metal support beams, we were treated to a history of the place and interesting anecdotes — like how the 19th-century pneumatic jackhammers were called "Widowmakers" because the dust they kicked up had miners dropping like flies. After the relieved feeling of seeing sunlight when you get out, stop by the saloon and Wild West town for a Tombstone-like shoot-out. Don't wait for your Chicago relatives to visit before making a pilgrimage to this historic spot.

Just when you think you've exhausted every "touristy" event in Phoenix to take your visiting Aunt Sally, something new pops up on the horizon. In this case, it pops up in a canyon. After finding this little gem of a tour, we're shocked at how few people know about it. The Dolly Steamboat winds its way through the breathtaking waterways of Canyon Lake, where secluded, pristine vistas justify the nickname "The Junior Grand Canyon." Wildlife sightings are commonplace along these nature cruises; once, we saw an entire family of bighorn sheep climbing up steep, enormous rock walls. The air is much cleaner 50 miles east of Phoenix, so everything along this spectacular ride just seems more colorful. Dolly's captain is entertaining and knowledgeable about not only the boat but all kinds of history related to the Apache Trail and its parts, as well as the flora and fauna of the area. The tours range from the simple — but spectacular — nature cruise to dinner cruises and even a once-a-month astronomy cruise, and Dolly is also available for private events. Even the drive out to Canyon Lake is magnificent. Make sure you pack your camera and binoculars, but leave the alcohol at home. (There's a bar and snack bar on board, though.) Prices for tours range from $20 to $79, with discounts for seniors and kids.

Camping doesn't get much better than sitting on a secluded, sandy beach at Apache Lake, listening to the water lap at your boat and falling asleep under the stars. We try to get out there once every couple of years or so, motoring far away from the shoreline-picnickers. Numerous dry arroyos run into the lake from the surrounding desert, and we've found a few good ones with plentiful, coarse sand that make the perfect platform for an air mattress or two. Apache Lake doesn't have an endless supply of sandy beaches — you may have to share your spot — but it's usually much better for camping than other lakes in the Phoenix area. Canyon Lake is too canyon-y and Saguaro Lake's sparse beaches are a long boat drive down a no-wake zone. You'd think Roosevelt Lake, being the biggest of the Roosevelt Dam reservoirs, would have the best beaches, but it just ain't so — particularly after our wet winter, which flooded beaches and cluttered the shorelines with debris. Apache Lake, however, still has some great camping sites on its shores. When sleeping without a tent next to a lake in the desert, our only worry is whether a ringtail cat will snag the Cheerios out of our backpack (again).

We had a terrible scare last year when The Water Wheel fire broke out north of Payson. The fire ate up nearly 800 acres of precious pine and forced the evacuation of two subdivisions. It did not, however, destroy the beautiful swimming hole that gave the disaster its name. The trees along Houston Mesa Road are scorched black, but the deep, cool pool of the East Verde River where Valley swimmers escape the blazing Phoenix heat with a long plunge off the steep walls leading to one of Rim Country's most pleasing waterfalls is still mostly intact. The parking area near where the blaze started has been closed (hopefully just temporarily, but possibly not) and was guarded by a cop when we stopped by earlier this summer, but you can still get there by walking in and along the East Verde from the lot downstream. It's well worth the jaunt. As anyone who's been there will tell you, the Water Wheel swimming hole is one of the state's true gems. It's not over-the-top gorgeous like similar spots near Sedona or at Havasupai, but it's wonderful in its own understated way, close and calming, which is just how we like our swimming holes.

Phoenix is known to have a few sweet places to cool down. When the Pointe South Mountain became the Arizona Grand Resort, the hotel and its pool got a facelift. What was once a glorified watering hole has become a seven-acre fun park. If you're up for a rush, take Slide Canyon Tower and choose among three slides, with 51- and 31-foot drops from the tower's fourth level. If the fast and furious water slide thing isn't your scene, grab a (free!) inner tube and jump in the lazy river or head to the wave pool — if not to surf some waves, then to check out the beach bodies catching the rip curl. The downsides: The pool's open only to guests and only until 4 p.m., which just means you'll have to make it a weekend and relax in the 25-person hot tub after a hard day's work on the slide.

One of dozens of skate parks in Arizona, the Goodyear Skate Park is a favorite for skaters, thanks to a design that works for both amateurs and pro-skaters.For Goodyear's concrete playground, SITE Design Group included a full-pipe capsule, a 280-foot-long snake run with multiple hips and extensions, an 11-foot-deep peanut bowl with traditional pool tile and coping and a large street/flow course with a pyramid, rollers, bank-to-block and hubba ledges.The park is open daily, and here are some things to know: Helmets are required. In-line stakes and RipSticks are permitted. But leave the bikes, shoe skates, street luge boards, and motorized vehicles at home. You almost can't offer a better description of the Goodyear Skatepark than the keepers of www.azskateparks.com: "The skateboarding gods dropped an absolute beauty in the desert: Goodyear Skatepark, located just off I-10 and Litchfield Road, will bring a new dimension to the Arizona skate park scene. Site Design Group and California Skateparks pulled out all of the stops on this one."

The Valley used to be one giant off-roading mecca — just look at those old jeep-trail scars running up the sides of South Mountain. Driving has been banned from most of the mountain areas by now, and most of the 4x4 roads in and around Phoenix have been transformed into neighborhoods. But plenty of places remain where you can "tear it up," so to speak, with an ATV, dirt bike, or four-wheel-drive vehicle. (Please, be kind to the remaining desert flora!) There's no better place to romp than at Sycamore Creek, an area north of Fountain Hills that still welcomes off-roading. It's no place for environmentalists: Here you'll see all manner of rock-hoppers plowing through the water and grinding on the creek banks, racing up dusty hills and digging craters with their tires in the sand. It's not politically correct, but it's a hell of a lot of fun. Heading north on the Beeline, look for the turnoff left (west) onto 403. It helps if you bring a friend with another off-roading vehicle and tow straps, just in case.

Though Hells Angels boss Sonny Barger lives in Cave Creek, our favorite Valley motor-powered cyclist is Glen Galatan, president of the Scooter Club of Metro Phoenix. SCMP events have dramatically fewer bonfires, orgies, and fistfights, but we won't hold that against them — it's cool to see events like last year's "Fiesta" in Gilbert, which featured family-friendly contests, a raffle, and barbecue. You may think it's not quite as cool as Sturgis until you see how dapper a lot of these lads dress while spiriting around town on vintage Vespas. They're no creampuffs, either, planning marathon group rides that'll have anyone not sufficiently badass calling for a roadside pickup in a trailer-towing mini-van. Of course they're green and all that jazz, but the real appeal for us is the snazzy European styling and spirit of camaraderie evident amongst the riders. Hey, even Barger would probably dig it, assuming his other club wouldn't pull his colors for fraternizing with a rival "gang."

We bruised our spine the first time we went to F1 — that's how addicting the place is. We overdid it, clearly, and might do so again. Luckily, the raceway wasn't crowded when we showed up at 11:30 on a Sunday morning. Minutes later, we had slipped on a helmet and were strapped into a kart. The burst of adrenaline came seconds later as we slid into the first curve after the straightaway. When the race came to an end 14 screeching laps later, we got right back in line for our second go. When that was done, we plunked down another $30 bucks for two more 14-lap races. Yeah, it's a bit pricey — we paid $50 for the membership and first two races — but worth it. We should probably have done only three races and gulped down a beer at the bar between each one. (Don't fret — the staff checks suspected drunken karters with a breathalyzer.) We'll be back.

Here's how much we love Squaw Peak Lanes: The last time we were there, our cocktail server dumped an entire tray of drinks in our lap. Still, we keep returning because this place is so clean and modern and comfortable that it compares to no other alley in town. The snack bar offers more than just the usual popcorn and nachos routine (try the deluxe hot dog with brown mustard!) and we haven't seen a better beer selection at a bowling alley bar, ever. We feel like part of the Squaw Peak clan, thanks to the Online Bowling League coupons delivered directly to our e-mail box every week, and because the folks up front are so friendly and even remember our shoe size! The computerized scoring and the keen tunes are the best in town.

For much of the year, it's too hot to walk outside, let alone take the kids to the plastic greens for a round of mini-golf. Jambo! is the answer. It offers an 18-hole miniature golf course surrounded by jungle animals — lions and tigers and hippos. You get the picture. Think pizza, ice cream, rides, games, and birthday parties with a golf club in hand and you'll have full visual on what this gem is all about. As a bonus, Jambo! is open from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. daily. Throw your next birthday party there or swing in for a random fun-filled Tuesday afternoon. Animal print pants optional!

Tempe residents don't need no stinkin' driving range. They live near one of the straightest fairways in all of Arizona: the railroad tracks that run right through the center of town. It's not exactly legal — nor is it safe — and we're not saying we recommend anyone actually do it, but we imagine it's a great spot to really grip it and rip it. The narrow slot carved through Tempe neighborhoods by the tracks requires your drive to be both straight and long — straight to ensure you don't hit any houses and long to give you ample time to run should you hit any houses.

Considering how golf-mad Arizona is, you might expect to find more mega-ranges like south Tempe's Fiddlesticks spread across our green-with-wastewater Valley. Not really. This large range is well lit in the hot desert evenings and open late, featuring a two-story tee structure to maximize space and 60 grass tee boxes for purists looking for the realest deal they can get. You can get 100 balls for $8, which isn't a bad price considering how posh the range is, and they've got a slate of pros on hand to help you with your swing if you're interested in purchasing a lesson. Also of interest to busy parents: Since this is a full-service family fun center, it's not hard to find something to occupy the kids while you sweeten your swing. After all, if there's anything better than working out some stress by crushing a bucket at the range, it's doing it guilt-free while the rest of the family rides go-karts or bumper boats.

When it comes to golf carts, Kierland Golf Club is still the best for one reason: air conditioning. Kierland already had top-of-the-line carts, but about two years ago, the course took what was already state of the art and cooled it off with G2 air conditioners designed by Phoenix based company Coolwell Inc. Some say using a cart is lazy; those people have probably never played golf in Phoenix in the summer. Golfers at Kierland can cruise the course in the Cadillac of carts in total comfort, even when it's 120 degrees outside.

Chances are, you're not good enough to play at TPC Scottsdale, and you have no business ever setting foot on the course to do anything but watch the pros. Be that as it may, it's fun to pretend, and in the summer you can pretend on the cheap. For $65, you can play where the pros play and enjoy all the bells and whistles of a PGA Tour course. If $65 for a few hours of golf doesn't seem like a bargain, look at it this way: To play the same course in December, it's gonna run you about $300.

We all love to play the pro courses, and in the Valley there's no shortage of great greens. The problem, however, is that if you want to play them in the winter, you may have to find a second job. That's why summer golfers at Troon North or TPC Scottsdale often find their way to the public courses once the rates go up. Public courses — for the most part — suck. Ken McDonald is one of the few exceptions. The par-72 championship course is scenic, always in great shape, got brand-new carts last year, and, most importantly, you can still play on the cheap. Winter rates at Ken McDonald fluctuate but rarely go above $38, and they can be as low as $28.

We're always on the lookout for a beautiful view on a golf course (yeah, we know . . .), what with our collective game being so darned lousy that we need an excuse to be out there. Well, the par-4 10th at this North Phoenix resort does it for us, and then some. It starts with the tee box, more than 10 stories high on a desert hillside. Looming magnificently before you are both Piestewa Peak and Lookout Mountain. At some point, you've got to hit the little white ball, which is a whole other trip. Just get the darned thing airborne and it will stay up forever, looking vaguely like a pro's shot as it drops about 175 feet or so to the fairway. With your second shot, you have to navigate three bunkers that protect a sloping green. Putting? Well, can't help you much there. It's the getting there that provides the fun.

During a bad round, every golfer has that moment on the golf course when he or she stops and asks, "Why do I play this miserable game?" That's when it happens: One good hole changes your entire outlook and you start thinking about joining the PGA Tour. The 11th hole at the Ken McDonald Golf Course has serious ego-boosting potential. It's a par 5 and plays about 570 yards from the tips, but it's a fairly straight shot with a flat green. Hit a good drive, plop your second shot on the green, and you're lookin' at eagle. At that point, your double-bogey-filled front nine becomes a distant memory that will be forgotten completely when you tell your friends how you played.

ASU's running track has a lot to offer joggers. Its dirt surface is easier on the feet than asphalt. It's a long-ish 0.44 miles (750 yards), which gives a sense of accomplishment for each lap. And it's safer than dodging SUVs in the streets. The best part, though, is the inspiration: the young men and women showing off their athletic prowess in the grass fields inside the track. Whether they're playing soccer or softball, practicing a 100-yard dash or just cavorting with each other, these hard-body college folks make being in great shape look easy. The glee on their faces counterbalances our grimace, and the mood is infectious. Watching the energized students, we're reminded that being fit is fun — and that puts more spring in our step.

The paved and dirt pathways along the Highline Canal in South Phoenix received some sprucing up recently, making a great recreation spot even better. We've long enjoyed the rural nature of the trail along the Highline, far enough south of Baseline Road to offer real peace and quiet. The hulking gray-green mass of South Mountain graces the skyline to the south, and the mix of lower-income houses and mini-mansions in the foothills preserve a lot of aging mesquite and other vegetation. This past spring, the city of Phoenix dedicated a new art project and renovation along the Highline called the Zanajero's Line (the name refers to the Spanish word for a farm worker who takes care of the water supply). New pedestrian bridges, shade trees, and benches invite rest breaks, and rock sculptures add to the scenery. The art project runs only to 12th street, but the canal path stays decent until Seventh Avenue.

The Valley's nine canals serve as an oasis to pedestrians and bicyclists who are thrilled to escape the inevitable close calls with Danica Patrick speed demon wanna-bes. We're partial to the part of the Arizona Canal in Scottsdale, near the art galleries and cool little restaurants near Goldwater Boulevard and Fifth Avenue. The Arizona Canal runs 38 miles from Granite Reef Dam to the east and 75th Avenue to the west. But this flat stretch of unpaved but hard-packed dirt is perfect for a relaxing walk or a hard bike ride alongside the flowing waters. Even if it's a hot one out there, there's something about being next to the canal that cools the spirit (if not the body). After the workout, the step back into reality is eased by the coffeehouses and myriad other neat places within walking distance in Old Scottsdale.

Crossing freeway interchanges on a bicycle sucks, especially in this expressway-heavy place. However, it's possible to avoid that madness, especially if you want to connect from Central Phoenix to Scottsdale and/or Tempe. The secret is Oak Street, a mostly residential road that, thanks to the awesome pedestrian and bicycle overpass at State Route 51, makes it possible (and super fun) to ride to the two 'burbs. Heading east from Central Phoenix, you can link up with Oak in the Coronado neighborhood before crossing 16th Street and then SR 51. From there, there's a dedicated bike lane on the slightly busier street that links up with the Arizona Canal trail just east of 24th Street. Or you can keep riding, north of Papago Park to 68th Street (which will more or less lead you to Old Town Scottsdale) or all the way to Chaparral Park, which makes it possible to hit up north Scottsdale or Tempe.

Wanna get your tires dusty without blowing out a lung or risking your neck? Try the tame but fun loop trails of Papago Park, centrally located on the borders of Phoenix, Scottsdale, and Tempe. Access the trailheads from the parking lot on the west side of Galvin Parkway, just across from the entrance to the Phoenix Zoo. Begin on the 2.7-mile Elliot Ramada Loop and head toward the buttes. Much of this trail is kid-friendly — rolling, sandy, wide single-track without the need for technical skills. Be sure to intersect with the Double Butte Loop, 2.3 miles, which offers gentle up-and-downs around a butte and past the stone amphitheater visible from McDowell Road. Numerous other trails criss-cross the park, allowing bikers a relaxing cruise through the desert or the chance to try something more challenging.

This 7.1-mile ride worked us to the bone. A sign near the trailhead states that mountain bikes are not recommended, but that's just to scare off the wimps. True, we had to carry our bike up several tough, rocky sections, which wasn't fun. But most of the trail is passable on a bike, and you'll be rewarded for the extra effort. After sweating the steep stuff to the top, we had several heart-stopping moments coming down sweet single track that clings to the edge of cliffs in places. And we have to mention the incredible view from the top of hundreds of acres of pristine Sonoran Desert in the Tonto National Forest. Though the trail is only seven miles, the challenging terrain takes longer to negotiate — be sure to take more water than you'll think you need, if the weather is warm.

Granite crags like Pinnacle Peak and the McDowell Mountains make the Valley a rock-climbing mecca, but the area's finest collection of sport-climbing routes is found farther east, near Queen Creek Canyon. Not to be confused with the two-horse town near Higley, the climbers' Queen Creek is the general area four miles north of Superior that includes the Oak Flat Campground, the site of past rock-climbing competitions. You'll need to consult a guidebook to figure out which of the 1,000-plus routes you want to do at places like Euro Dog Valley, Lower Devils Canyon, and the Road Area (which has some of the taller offerings). Favorite spots like the Mine Area are also fun for non-climbers and children, who love to rock-hop and explore the lunar-like terrain. The volcanic rock can be painful on the fingertips, but the sheer number of short climbing routes means there's a lot to love about Queen Creek.

If you've never walked down a vertical rock face, Rappel Gully is the place to learn. The 75-foot climbing route on the Headwall in Camelback Mountain's Echo Canyon is steep, especially at the top, yet isn't too high to intimidate most beginners. Best of all, the anchor for the rappel is what climbers call "bomb-proof." When you set up ropes for a rappel, it's considered poor form to have the whole setup — and its climber — come spilling down the mountain because of a poor anchor. The anchor at the top of Rappel Gully is a massive eyebolt set deep into the rock and secured with concrete. It's not going anywhere. And it's hard to mess up the rope work here — you simply feed one end of the rope through the circle of metal and you're ready to go. That first step off the edge is always the most unnerving for beginners, who often aren't sure if they're going to survive. Another great perk: The west-facing Rappel Gully is in the shade all morning.

"Now that's extreme!" a young Camelback Mountain hiker shouted to his buddies as he watched us free-solo climb up a cliff. Now, we don't free-solo — which means rock-climbing without the aid of ropes or a partner — to hear such accolades. But it made us feel damned cool, even though the cliff we were on wasn't really extreme, by the standards of experienced rock climbers. We're not experts (never climbed El Capitan or spent the night on a "porta-ledge"), but we've attained a skill level that allows us to free-solo comfortably on some climbing routes. The cliff at Camelback that psyched the onlooker is one such route. It's the north-facing corner near the top of the first saddle on the Echo Canyon trail. The cliff is just one way to the top of the Headwall climbing area, which includes the popular Rappel Gully route (see "Best Place to Learn Rappeling") a few yards south. While many climbers rope up for this section, we've seen just as many "free" it, as we typically do. Needless to say, this kind of activity can be dangerous — even death-defying. But it's also liberating and focuses your mind like nothing else. Just watch out for loose rock and remember the number-one rule of free-soloing: It's all up to you.

Why have we belonged to the Phoenix Rock Gym for the past 18 years, you ask? It's not just the walls, which are about 30 feet high and covered in fun, gripable, plastic climbing holds. We don't go just for the world-class bouldering rooms and respectable lead-climbing room, either. Nor for the awesome employees, personable customers (most, anyway), and Cheers-like (sans alcohol) ambiance. Of course, it's for all those reasons. The PRG — which was the first climbing gym to open in the Valley — also plays host to a couple of climbing competitions each year. Usually, we leave those to wiry young folks who don't even remember that the Great Outdoors was the only way to climb in the Valley before 1992.

Housed inside a modern facility that includes a full-service fitness center and a small high school (Jess Schwartz Jewish Community High School) are two regulation hardwood courts that get as much use as any others in the Valley. An open-door policy allows hoop junkies to get out of the blistering sun and off the hard-on-the-knees concrete into an air-conditioned, well-lit gym where the ball can be (but isn't always) fierce and the level really high. Even the various adult teams in organized leagues that take over a few nights a week usually will find a place for a wayward player looking for a place to show his or her game (and there are a handful of hers on hand who can handle the rock with the best of them). Our prediction: You may never want to play in a city park again.

It's Saturday morning and the weather is finally cooling down. Swimsuit season may be waning, but a weekly game of pickup basketball may let that six-pack stick around for a few more weeks. Chaparral Park is on 100 acres, has a 10-acre lake and a free-form public swimming pool. The well-lit basketball courts near the community center are open from 5:30 a.m. to 10 p.m. The courts are sometimes multi-use, but we're sure if you toss in a couple lines from Love & Basketball, the other players will know it's your turf.

Summer in the Valley of the Sun — to put it mildly — sucks to high hell. Almost all outdoor activities must be done at night if you want to avoid being miserable, and tennis is no exception. Luckily, the courts at Kiwanis Park in Tempe have lights, which stay on until 10 p.m. Of course, even summer nights here are hot, so you'll probably still work up a sweat. That's no problem if you're playing at Kiwanis, because the tennis courts are located right next to a community pool.

We give extra props to this outdoor facility because of everything around it — tennis and volleyball courts and shaded picnic areas. But it's all about taking some hacks, working out the kinks (no small task), and getting some rips in before facing the real deal, whether it's a guy throwing gas in a baseball or fast-pitch game, or someone lofting a yellow ball toward the plate in a slow-pitch game. We prefer the quick stuff: the ball getting on you in a jiffy and that good old hand-eye coordination having to kick in, or else. Good challenge here, as the machines generally throw strikes (a good thing) and the friendly employees are quick to remedy things when they don't. When you're done for the day, you can sit under a tree in the park and mull over how you're going to rake like Ichiro Suzuki as someone tries to throw it by you at the next city league game.

Goodyear's sparkling $108 million ballpark may not have the glitz of the other new-in-2008 Cactus League ballpark, Glendale's Camelback Ranch, but it's really grown on us. While the Glendale stadium, which has similarly modern brushed-steel styling, hosts two of the Cactus League's most prominent teams, the Los Angeles Dodgers and Chicago White Sox, Goodyear's park pairs smaller-market teams with a more natural affiliation: the two Ohio franchises, the Cleveland Indians and Cincinnati Reds. The spirit of cross-state cooperation, along with tons of family-friendly amenities, including a Wiffleball field, to entertain the children, give Goodyear's park a more homey, lived-in feel than other increasingly sterile stadiums. Buckeye State natives no doubt get off on hearing the state's official rock song, "Hang On Sloopy," played between innings and playfully teasing each other about their equally woeful NFL franchises, but there's a little something for everybody at this park. Even for West Valley folks, it's a haul to get there, but the folksy atmosphere is well worth it. Dare we say it's a throwback to the Cactus League's fondly remembered good old days?

We are suckers for a sharpshooter, and senior guard Corey Hawkins more than lured us into the fold. The dude's range is remarkable, and he frees himself for open jump shots by driving the lane with abandon. Corey simply was the best boy's basketball player in Arizona last season, and set an all-time Arizona scoring record for his four-year career, topping current NBA pro Mike Bibby's previous mark (set at Phoenix Shadow Mountain). Like Bibby, Corey is the son of an NBA great, Hersey Hawkins, who served as an assistant coach at Goodyear Estrella before taking a gig last season as director of player development with the Portland Trail Blazers. He sure developed his son as a very good one, as ASU fans will learn in the upcoming season when Corey dons a Sun Devils uniform as an incoming freshman.

You lose your best player and team nucleus to the first round of the NBA Draft. Then, your four-year starter and team leader gets picked early in the second round. Left behind is a crew of unproven underclassmen. Season over before it begins? Not when Herb Sendek coaches your squad. After the NBA scooped up James Harden (the number-three overall pick in the 2009 draft) and Jeff Pendergraph, preseason prognosticators pegged the 2009-10 Sun Devils to finish at or near the bottom of the Pacific 10 conference. Instead, Sendek led ASU to within a game of the conference crown, a close-but-no-cigar run at the NCAA tournament, and another win over rival UofA. Sendek's job well done was so amazing that he won this year's Pac-10 Coach of the Year.

Everything was topsy-turvy when the ASU Sun Devils baseball team took the field in January for its first regular season game. School honchos unceremoniously had dumped the team's longtime, highly successful coach, the fascinating (we do miss the guy!) Pat Murphy, and asked longtime assistant Tim Esmay to stop the bleeding on an interim basis. We know Coach Esmay, who is blessed with a calm temperament and a terrific squad of sluggers and scrappers who broke hard from the starting gate and never stopped until they were knocked out of the NCAA baseball tournament in the first round. The Devils were ranked as one of the best college teams in the nation for much of the season and struck fear in the hearts of every team they played. Congrats!

Phoenix College has dominated the state and national women's junior college fast-pitch softball scene for so long that the other local schools seem to be an afterthought. To put it kindly, the South Mountain C.C. Cougars never had been a factor in the Arizona Community College Athletic Conference until this season. Coming out of nowhere, the Cougars upset number-one seed Mesa C.C. to win the regional championship and a coveted berth in the national championships in Normal, Illinois, where they knocked out in the first round. Scrappy utility player Wo-Wo Vasquez, out of Phoenix North High, was one of several keys to the team's surprise success. Led by head coach Kristina Graham Schmallen, the unheralded South Mountain team did themselves and their community proud.

First of all, we don't consider baseball players real athletes. They're in a skill sport that doesn't require a lot of running and jumping. (We said "a lot.") Hitters in the sport are more like golfers than basketball players — hand-to-eye coordination being the mark of excellence. So, Justin Upton is no Steve Nash. But he is the best professional baseball player in town — a superhero in his sport — and he's destined (yeah, we'll predict this) for the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. That is, he's becoming among the greats at seeing and hitting a major-league fastball. Upton was an All-Star last season, and he didn't make that cut this year — he's not on pace to repeat the .300 batting average, 26 homers, and 86 runs batted in he racked up in 2009. But the Arizona Diamondbacks have sucked in 2010, and Upton's prone to frustration during a long season on such a bad team. But his stats are still respectable (a .273 average, 17 home runs, and 69 RBI at press time), and he still bats in the best hitter/power-hitter spot in the lineup (third). Once the D-Backs improve — and they will, next season, now that they've gotten rid of their ridiculously incompetent general manager and manager — look for Upton to return to All-Star form and become one of the best hitters in the game. He was promising from the start: When the former Virginia high school star, was called up to the D-Backs in August 2007, he was the youngest player in the majors at 19. In 2008, Upton hit a 484-foot round-tripper that was the second-longest in Chase Field history. Baseball's in his genes: His brother B.J.'s a star for Tampa Bay. Justin's the nucleus of the team, somebody to build around. It's not his fault that this year's D-Backs, well, sucked snake.

Last year at this time, we were mystified as to what the hell happened to Chris Young. We couldn't help wondering whether the Diamondbacks center fielder was another in the steroid era who had hit the big leagues with a boom — as in a first-full-year Diamondbacks' record 32 home runs and 27 stolen bases in 2007 (only the eighth rookie in the Majors to go at least 20 and 20 in the categories) — only to fizzle inexplicably over the next couple of seasons. It got so bad in 2009 that Young was demoted to minor-league Reno, Nevada. When he came back up, he had a slight resurgence, but he still finished the season batting .212 (the lowest average in the bigs for a player who had appeared in so many games), 15 stolen bases, and 42 runs batted in. Contrast that to this season, when Young was named to the National League All-Star Team, and was batting .260, with 26 homers and 88 runs batted in at press time. Along with teammates Adam LaRoche (96 RBI) and Mark Reynolds (84), Young was among the scoring leaders in the National League. Whatever Young did to get back to superhero status, he should keep doing it. With the prowess of Young and a few others offensively, plus a revamped pitching staff, the Snakes could challenge in the National League West next season.

It will be difficult for Diamondbacks third baseman Mark Reynolds to equal milestones he set last season. He hit 44 home runs, fourth in the National League, and he struck out 223 times, the most in major-league baseball. At press time, Reynolds had a team-leading 32 home runs and was again leading the majors in strikeouts, this time with 206. We're just happy that this year's dismal D-Backs lead their sport in something. But don't hold it too much against Reynolds. Some of the greatest hitters in baseball history whiffed much of the time — the great Reggie Jackson (dubbed "Mr. October," because of his World Series prowess with the New York Yankees) is the all-time strikeout leader among batters with 2,597 in 21 seasons. Reggie also hit a career 563 homers. Reynolds is in his fourth major-league season and has a career 121 homers and 762 strikeouts. That is, he's got almost a third of Jackson's whiffs already, and he's on a pace to strike out more than a whopping 3,560 times if he lasts as long as Jackson did. But, look on the bright side: Reynolds is on a pace to hit 570-plus round-trippers if he lasts 17 more seasons. We're saying, despite the strikeouts, Mark's a keeper for the D-Backs. If the team could just get some stellar pitching — and he could strike out half as much (which would still be a hell of a lot) — he might someday (dare to dream) be Mr. October/November himself. (Unless there's a sweep this year, the series will go into November for the second time in history.)

If ever there were a superhero-looking (and -acting) baseball manager, it would square-jawed, stubble-faced Kirk Gibson. He's the man's man who makes going bald as an onion cool. Women find him sexy as hell, guys have a man-crush on him. When the camera pans over to the Arizona Diamondbacks dugout and Gibby, you can see it on his rugged face: He hates to freakin' lose! And the Snakes have lost lots this season (they have a firm hold on last place in the National League West) — though not as often since he took over the team when manager A.J. Hinch and general manager Josh Byrnes were canned finally. That mighty face beneath the red D-Backs cap could almost make you believe the massive losing will stop now. Almost. There's the matter of the improved-through-trades-but-still-mediocre pitching staff. But if Gibson could chew nails and make it happen, he would. He did close to that when he was a player with the Detroit Tigers and the Los Angeles Dodgers. He led the Tigers to their 1984 World Series victory, but he's best known for a homer he hit for the Dodgers in the first game of the 1988 Series against the Oakland A's. With injuries to both legs and battling stomach flu, Gibson wasn't expected to play. But the Dodgers were trailing 4-3 with two outs in the ninth inning. With one guy on base, manager Tommy Lasorda needed to at least get a run home to tie the game. Gibson was sent to the plate and immediately fell behind 0-2. He laid off a couple of balls, and the count was 2-2. Then — in one of the greatest moments in sports history — he hit the ball over the right-field fence to give the Dodgers a 5-4 victory. He hobbled around the bases and pumped his fist to the crowd; it was a scene that fans who saw it will never forget. Always known as an intense player, he had become the Dodgers' team leader, literally willing one of the most mediocre teams ever to play in a World Series to an eventual 4-1 victory over the superior A's. We'd like to see what this balls-out guy could do over a whole season with the Snakes. Sometimes great players make lousy managers, but we're thinking Gibson could be the exception.

The Tweedle-Dumb and a Tweedle-Dumber in major-league baseball have been put out of our misery, in favor of interims Jerry Dipoto and Kirk Gibson as GM and manager (In late September, Kevin Towers was named general manager). The dual firing is the second-best thing that's happened to the Arizona Diamondbacks since they improbably won the World Series against the New York Yankees in 2001. The first being, again improbably, going to the National League Championship Series in 2007. Even though the D-Backs were swept by the Rockies then, that was the highlight of general manager Josh Byrnes' 41/2-season career in the desert. It was his first year with the team, and it was downhill all the way to this year's cellar-dwelling debacle. A guy with an omnipresent smirk, Byrnes made a series of stupid moves that left the team in a world of hurt. One of the dumbest was giving outfielder Eric Byrnes a three-year, $30 million contract after his only (somewhat) stellar season in the big leagues. Critics crowed that this was a bad move for the predominantly mediocre player, but Josh Byrnes wouldn't listen (almost made us wonder whether the Byrnses were related, somehow). Turned out the detractors were right. Eric Byrnes got so bad that he was sent to the minors, traded, let go, and now he's collecting millions from the D-Backs playing amateur softball. In subsequent years after that contract was inked, when real stars like Manny Ramirez became available, the team was hamstrung financially. In the midst of all the losing last season, Byrnes raised more eyebrows when he replaced longtime manager Bob Melvin with the 30-something Hinch — a farm director with the team who had no dugout experience. See, the two were tight buds. Forget about whether Hinch, who didn't inspire the confidence of players, could put a winning team on the field. Then, there was this year's disastrous relief-pitching staff with the highest ERA in the majors. Games would seemingly be won, and this band of bumble-fucks would come in and give up five or six runs. How did it get this bad? We blame Tweedle-Dumber (Josh Byrnes). Hinch was just in over his pretty, buzz-cut head. Now, with them gone and vastly experienced Gibson at the helm, we predict the team can finish at least at .500 next season. Sad thing is, the Tweedles still are owed $7 million.

He doesn't have the star power of Justin Upton, but Miguel Montero is the best all-around player on the Diamondbacks' roster. First of all, the catcher position is the toughest in baseball. Imagine squatting for your entire career. Most catchers' knees go to hell eventually. Indeed, Montero had a right-knee sprain in April that kept him out of the lineup for two months, or 57 games. Otherwise, imagine how good he would be at the plate by now. At this writing, he has a .267 batting average, with nine home runs and 43 runs batted in. He had a spectacular game against the Washington Nationals in August in which he slugged two homers and caught seven masterful innings from emerging D-Backs pitching sensation Ian Kennedy. Catchers are the quarterbacks of baseball teams, and a rub on Montero was that he needed to improve handling pitchers and calling games. Another complaint was that he was easily stolen upon during his early years in the majors (he was called up in 2006). But he has been nailing runners consistently this season. Miggy's work calling games also has improved as the team's pitching staff has gotten better with trades and a new manager. Like right fielder Justin Upton, third baseman Mark Reynolds, center fielder Chris Young, and interim manager Kirk Gibson, Montero's a guy the D-Backs can rebuild around. Everybody on the team loves the outgoing Montero, who's not only the team's field general but an emerging clubhouse leader.

It's a distant memory, but Brandon Webb won the National League Cy Young Award in 2006. The ace of the Arizona pitching staff couldn't have saved the Diamondbacks from this season's bullpen woes (except by pitching an occasional complete game, maybe), but Webb in his prime would've made things a little rosy. Well, less thorny, anyhow. Webb was sidelined with what was at first described as pitching "shoulder stiffness" early last season. But things just kept getting worse, which eventually wound up with his having shoulder surgery. Nobody among D-Backs brass admitted to concern. But the team was headed by recently fired general manager Josh Byrnes, which may have had something to do with it. Despite the shoulder issue, Byrnes and company decided to exercise an $8.5 million option to keep Webb a Diamondback — which has to be one of the many reasons Byrnes is gone. There was talk in spring training this year that Webb could come back in June. Well, he didn't come back all season. And nobody's saying if he will ever return. Rumors abound that there's nothing really wrong with Webb anymore, that he just lacked the confidence to return, that he's a pussy. We find that hard to believe — the surgery must not have returned his arm to the gold standard of his 2006-2008 seasons. He arguably should've won the Cy Young again in '08 when he went 22-7 and had a 3.30 earned-run average. He pitched four innings in 2009, before the shoulder problem forced him to the bench. Then, poof. We've seen it so many times in baseball; pitchers are at the pinnacle of their careers, get injured, must go under the knife, and it's all over.

Certainly, Scottsdale's Danica Patrick, the only woman seriously competing in professional motor sports these days, is the best-looking human in racing. (Ever get a look at Dale Earnhardt Jr.?) We'd only seen her beautiful head emerging from those emblem-cluttered racing coveralls until we spotted her at a Diamondbacks game, and we've got to tell you, she's all-over hot. (Down, boys! She's married.) Once she started driving in the Indianapolis 500, Playboy asked her to pose nude for the magazine, an offer she turned down. She did make the cover of Sports Illustrated in 2005, however, but it was because she was the fourth woman ever to compete in the Indianapolis 500 — and named the event's rookie of the year — not because (too bad!) she rocked a skimpy swimsuit. Yeah, we know, we're drooling over her sexiness. But this hottie can handle a powerful engine like no woman in history. (Hey, we resisted using a drive-shaft metaphor.) Her third-place finish in the Indy 500 was the best by a chick in the race's history. Danica became the first woman to win an Indy race in 2008 with her victory in the Indy Japan 300. This year, she's driving a Chevy for Scottsdale's GoDaddy.com in NASCAR's Nationwide Series. Go, mama!

This superhero exudes class. He's a fierce competitor who leaves it all on the court and, somehow, makes no enemies in the process. In interview after interview, his competitors talk as if he's Mahatma Gandhi in sneakers. His charity work is legendary, both locally and nationally. One minute he's hanging out with cancer kids, the next he's rebuilding homes in ravaged neighborhoods, with NBA buddies hammering nails beside him. With the departure of Amar'e Stoudemire to the New York Knicks, Saint Steve is the only superstar left on the Phoenix Suns. He keeps his great attitude despite what must be searing, chronic back pain. You can see him lying flat on the court when he's getting spelled during games, trying to keep the spasms in check. And one reason for the agony has been the necessity of him carrying the team on his back. Not that he ever complains; he would be the first to say that a guy getting paid millions to participate in a playground game needs to just suck it up. Be grateful. At 36, you'd think Nash would be wearing out as a professional jock — point guards like him run close to 20 miles a game — but last season, he played as well as he ever had (though in decreased minutes because of the coming of age of backup Goran Dragic). The Canadian sports legend (only, perhaps, Wayne Gretzky surpasses him in the Great White North) averaged 17 points and a league-leading 11 assists last season — well above his 15 and 8 career totals. In the conference finals against the superior Lakers last season, he averaged 18 points and 12 rebounds. Remember, nice-guy Nash is a pass-first player. Arguably, he could've led the league in scoring during his younger years if he were a ball hog like Kobe Bryant. Though they like him off the court, players tend to beat him up on it (he weighs only 180 pounds on a 6-foot-3 frame). He gets fouled a lot. How many times have we seen his nose bloodied or his eye swollen shut? Because of this, and because of his precision shooting skill, he's third all-time in free-throw percentage at .893. and first by a country mile ahead of current players. Nice guys sometimes finish first.

In an age when few true centers are left in the game, the perennially small-ball Phoenix Suns finally have one in Robin Lopez. Based on a stellar second-half-of-his-second-year performance for the Suns, we're hoping the 7-foot Lopez puts on the cape and achieves full superhero status this season (forget about Dwight Howard). Lopez filled the gigantic shoes of Shaquille O'Neal last year, and this year, he'll have to step up for the departed-to-New York Amar'e Stoudemire. But the 255-pound bruiser out of Stanford University should be up for the job after coming along superbly after the All-Star break. He was hobbled in the first rounds of the playoffs by a bad back, but all that should be, um, behind him when the season kicks off this fall. He was a great defensive player at Stanford, and he was solid defender and top shot-blocker for the Suns last season (once assistant coach Bill Cartwright taught the intense young man how to stop fouling so much), but who knew that he had such overpowering offensive moves? Though his overall stats for the season appear mediocre, after coach Alvin Gentry began starting him, he had several double-figure rebounding and scoring games in the second half of the regular season. After returning from his injury in the Western Conference Finals, he overpowered the Los Angeles Lakers' big men in the Suns' first finals win, with 20 points in 29 minutes. And he did it with pizzazz — 15-footers, hooks with both hands, and dunks early and often. When he'd gone down earlier, NBA prognosticators wondered whether the Suns could win in the playoffs against Portland and, later, San Antonio without him. (Something we thought we'd never be hearing about scoring phenom Brook Lopez's twin brother.) The Suns did win in the first two rounds, but his 7-foot, eagle-wingspan presence was missed. Fropez (he of the big hair) wasn't 100 percent even when he returned, despite that solid performance dunking over the likes of the Lakers' Pao Gasol. If he had been, the Suns would've had a better chance of upsetting the Lakers and maybe bringing Phoenix its first NBA championship.

Why? Because he's the smartest. He wouldn't give Amar'e Stoudemire the huge contract he demanded. Everybody likes to rag on Robert Sarver because he let a superstar go, but he made a sound business — as well as sports — decision. Though Amar'e was capable of 40-point, 20-rebound nights, he rarely produced on the rebounding side of the equation. Plus, he was a lousy defender — always seemed lost out there. The buzz-phrase was: He "lacked focus." Whatever. Giving top money to someone who's less than a superstar doesn't make sense. Superstars do everything Amar'e did, plus play solid D. It also didn't make sense to bet on the often-injured STAT to last through a five-year, $100 million contract, which is what the New York Knicks gave him — despite nobody being willing to insure him. The reason is that he had microscopic surgery on his left knee in 2005 and detached-retina surgery in 2009. Because of his health issues, the 27-year-old was limited to only three 82-game seasons in his eight-year career. Sarver's righteous hang-up with keeping Amar'e was the fifth year of the contract — Sarver wasn't willing to guarantee it because of Amar'e's health issues. But once Stoudemire headed north, Sarver didn't sit around doing nothing. He brought in two young, promising power forwards to replace him, plus veteran forward Hedo Turkoglu. He also gave forward-center Channing Frye a new contract for bench strength in the frontcourt. The Suns will be fine without a guy who was always carping about deserving max money. Our prediction is they will again challenge the Lakers in the Western Conference Finals. If that happens, you won't be complaining anymore that Sarver's a banking mogul caught up in the recession who was too cheap to keep a superstar. He'll be a superhero in a suit.

The first time we watched Hedo Turkoglu, he was giving the Los Angeles Lakers hell in the playoffs as a Sacramento King. These were in the post-Charles Barkley, pre-Steve Nash days, when the Lakers were the closest "professional" basketball team we had nearby. He was playing behind fellow Eastern European Peja Stojakovic at the time, but you could tell that this 6-foot-10 player would someday be a star. He's traveled around since, with a stop in San Antonio, five seasons in Orlando, and one in Toronto. Last year with the middling Raptors was his worst since he became an NBA starter — he averaged only 11 points and five rebounds a game. But the crack outside shooter (he's 38 percent career from the three-point line) was riddled by injuries (none nearly as serious as those of the guy he will replace in the Suns starting lineup, Amar'e Stoudemire). This year, Hedo should be healthy and able to return to the form he demonstrated during his years with the Magic, including one when the team went to the NBA Finals. His best year for the Magic was 2007-08 when he averaged 20 points, six rebounds, and five assists a game. He alone won't be able to replace Stoudemire (he won't have to; the team drafted two young power forwards to back him up, plus re-signed forward-center Channing Frye), but he's a slightly better defender, who may become an even better scorer when playing with pass-first point guard Nash. Who knows how good Stoudemire would've been without the two-time MVP from Canada? We look for the Turkish Turkoglu to have the best year of his career playing with a guy who will set him up with open shots. Signing Turkoglu was the Suns' smartest move of the off-season.

If anybody doubted that Alvin Gentry was a superhero NBA coach, last year proved them wrong. Gentry managed to do something that no other Suns coach ever had been able to do in the team's run-and-gun-era — get his team to play solid defense. He even had defense-challenged (and now-departed) Amar'e Stoudemire doing it once in a while. Gentry also, for the first time in the Steve Nash era, developed one of the best benches in the league. His predecessor, Mike D'Antoni, only went about seven deep in his lineup, while Gentry routinely put 10 players a game on the floor. Sometimes 12. It slowed down the Suns, sure, but it made them a better team — one, against all odds, that made it to the Western Conference Finals against the Los Angeles Lakers last season. This after solidly beating the talented Portland Trail Blazers in the first round and crushing the team's nemesis, the San Antonio Spurs, in the second. Just beating Tim Duncan and the Spurs like that made Gentry a man of steel in our book. Gentry's team, sometimes led by second year-players he and his staff vastly improved (like backup point guard Goran Dragic and starting center Robin Lopez), even held their own against the most talented team in the league, led by Kobe Bryant, in the finals. It was almost unbelievable that the Suns tied the series with the Lakers, before losing it in six. With the improvement Gentry made in the team in his first full season as coach, we're expecting him to work wonders this year. We'd be surprised, barring a killer midseason acquisition, if the Suns can win it all this year, but it wouldn't surprise us to see them going head-to-head against Kobe and company for dominance in the West.

Two seasons ago, Goran Dragic, who had been a star in Europe, was the butt of jokes in this town. He was also getting his butt kicked by former Suns Coach Terry Porter for sloppy, tentative play during the rare times he appeared in games. It seemed as though drafting the young Slovenian to be a solid backup to Steve Nash was a pipe dream, one of the stupidest moves Suns management ever had made. Then came last season, when Dragic came of age under Porter's replacement, Alvin Gentry. To say that Dragic turned in phenomenal performances would be an understatement. He had very few bad games all season, and he was among the best players in the league in a few. Particularly in the playoffs. In the Suns' 115-106 series-tying, game 4 victory over the Lakers in last year's finals, Dragic overpowered L.A., as his mentor, Nash, sat for almost nine minutes of the fourth period. Dragic played 18 minutes overall and had eight points, four rebounds, and eight assists — the same assists total that Nash had in 30 minutes. The play of the game came when the 24-year-old went past Derek Fisher and 6-foot-11 Lamar Odom for a cool, seemingly effortless lay-up. The home crowd went crazy as Fisher looked befuddled about where the hell the speedy guy he was supposed to be guarding had vanished to. It was a wonderful sight for Suns fans and a superhero moment for Dragic. But he'd turned in an even more spectacular fourth quarter in the semifinals last year against the San Antonio Spurs. In game 3 in the Alamo City, Dragic scored 23 of his 26 points in the fourth — hitting nine of 11 shots and four three-pointers. Nash sat out the entire period, and the Suns won that game 110-96 before eventually sweeping the hated Spurs in the series. Dragic not only established himself as a solid backup to the aging two-time MVP, but proved he's the team's point guard of the future and a budding NBA superstar. What a difference a year made.

Jared Dudley and Lou Amundson gave the Phoenix Suns, always considered soft in the NBA, some much-needed muscle last season. These guys were about taking it to opponents on defense. They did stuff that was mind-blowing — hassling the hell out of offensive players, blocking shots, grabbing rebounds, and in Dudley's case, scoring baskets at crucial times. A deadly three-point shooter, Dudley could also scrap under the goal. Along with Amundson, the two would shoot, get their own rebound, shoot again, miss, shoot again, and usually make the basket. It was hustle at its finest. Dudley will definitely be back; he'll come off the bench at small forward in the coming season. He will play a lot behind aging starter Grant Hill. But at this writing, we're not so sure about Loooooooouuuuu, a huge crowd favorite at US Airways Center. He was a free agent in the off-season, and nobody had met his salary demands at this writing. Consider this irony: When Dudley and starting shooting guard Jason Richardson came to the Suns in a trade with the Charlotte Bobcats for Boris Diaw, Raja Bell, and Sean Singletary, all anybody talked about was Richardson, a former two-time NBA slam-dunk champion/jump-shooting star. But last season, though Richardson was a solid-enough performer, he paled in comparison to trade-afterthought Dudley. In his reserve role, Dudley was often the difference between winning and losing, the anchor of Coach Alvin Gentry's suddenly superb bench. Here's hoping this tandem stays together and continues laying the hardwood to opponents.

Because of his size, hands, speed, and leaping ability, Larry Fitzgerald is the best wide receiver in pro football today, and he could, before it's over for him, be the best in history. Of all the athletes in town, he's Superman at what he does. An exaggeration? He's got the records to prove it. Take a look at the Cardinals' run to the Super Bowl 2008, when he smashed the league's post-season receiving record with seven touchdown catches and 30 overall receptions for 544 yards. He's kept up a rabid regular-season pace for three seasons now, earning him three consecutive Pro Bowl selections. He reached 7,000 receiving yards for his career in week 15 of last season, surpassing Randy Moss as the youngest player ever to reach the milestone. He led the NFL in receptions last year for the second-straight year, the first player to do so since Terrell Owens in 2002-03. And he ain't Owens, which is a very good thing. Owens fizzled because of his 'tude. Receivers are dependent on quarterbacks like players at no other position, and Terrell's big-mouth complaining about his touches pissed off his benefactors and coaches. Fitzgerald, the consummate nice-guy team player, never will have such a fuck-you problem. But this brings up an interesting point this season: Can Fitz keep up the killer pace without future Hall of Fame quarterback Kurt Warner? He'll be good, no matter what, but to be great at his position, new starting QB Derek Anderson must at least be good. We'll see.

Though the Arizona Cardinals' running game improved vastly last season — from terrible to all right — we predict it will become respectable in this year's regular season. Maybe even good. Running back Chris "Beanie" Wells, the team's first-round pick, was beset with rookie-itis in 2009-10: He had to get used to bigger, tougher defenders; hard-ass pro coaches; the NFL's longer schedule; and travel demands — and being away from Mama. One of 11 children, Wells was homesick for his family in Akron, Ohio. But mostly the Ohio State star missed his mother, whom he consults about practically all of life's trials and tribulations (doing it over the phone wasn't cutting it). This year, Wells is more rooted in Arizona and has a son with his girlfriend. The result of his experience in the league and a more stable home life is certain, barring injury, to be increased production for the Cardinals. The Cards have used third-year back Tim Hightower as the starter in the early-going, but look for Wells to take over that role as the season progresses. Wells and Hightower will be a solid tandem; they set a good foundation last year. Wells rushed for 793 yards on 176 carries for a 4.5 average. He ranked second in the NFL among rookie running backs behind Denver's Knowshon Moreno. His seven rushing touchdowns put him in a tie for first among rookie backs. As for Hightower, who started all 16 regular-season and two postseason games last year, he rushed for 598 yards on 143 carries last season. He also was a receiving threat, with 63 receptions — second in the NFL — for 428 yards. With Kurt Warner gone and a new QB behind center, Arizona will need Wells and Hightower's one-two punch to be a serious contender this fall and winter.

Darnell Docket is a wild-haired, supremely tattooed mammoth who's an NFL quarterback's worst nightmare. He's the Cardinals' best defensive player, and a premier defensive lineman in the league. Without this defensive anchor, we shudder to think how porous the team's D might become. Last season, he had seven QB sacks, leading all NFL defensive tackles and earning him his second Pro Bowl berth. In his previous six seasons with the Cardinals, the Florida State star has 26 career sacks, four interceptions, eight fumble recoveries, and six forced fumbles. All of it resulting from his magnetic ball-location savvy, quickness — for a 6-foot-4, 290-pound freezer-locker of a man — and intensity. The guy's a beast, continually taunting opposing players, yelling at slacker players on his own team, and charging like a rhino. His over-the-top behavior sometimes gets on head coach Ken Whisenhunt's nerves — the guy posted an online video of himself taking a shower. Also irking the head coach has been Docket's over-the-top behavior on the field — he'd become so emotional that he'd rack up loads of penalties. But that problem's as close to being resolved as it can be with a guy like Docket, and the Mighty Mouth last season was voted a team captain. One last note: We wouldn't want to be rookie QB Sam Bradford. After the Oklahoma star was taken first in the draft by the St. Louis Rams, Docket twittered gleefully that Bradford's "fresh meat." By the time you read this, the Cardinals will have opened the regular season with the Rams. You tell us how Sam fared. They play the Rams again December 5.

We have both fond and melancholic memories of Phoenix's all-time greatest boxer, Hall of Famer Michael Carbajal, who reached the top of his brutal sport only to be ripped off blind by his trainer and oldest brother, Danny. No one in town has come close to replicating Michael's fame and skill level, but teenager Jose Benavidez Jr., from the Central Boxing Gym on West Van Buren Street, seems headed in the right direction. Out of the ring, the bespectacled, reed-slender (about six feet and 140 pounds) boxer looks tame, but that's a deceptive appearance that belies a warrior within. The kid has exceptional skills and seemingly unlimited potential. Promoter Bob Arum signed Junior, as he's known, to his stable of boxers and put legendary Las Vegas trainer Freddie Roach on the case. Jose's dad is very much involved in the youngster's budding career, and father-son boxing teams usually scare us — too much baggage, too many hopes. But hope springs eternal, even in the fight "game," and we wish this homegrown pugilist the best as he pounds his way to the top.

Jason Richardson is one hell of a basketball player, but he's an even better tattoo canvas. Dude has 26 tats on his cut physique, more than any other Suns player and rivaling that of all but a few players in the league. Before he came to Phoenix, Richardson played for the Charlotte Bobcats and the Golden State, and his largest tattoo — "THA FACTOR" — was the nickname his Warriors teammates gave him. Another prominent tat is the image of a muscle man holding a basketball. Above the muscle man is a tattoo that his brother and cousin also have: "E.L.I.T.E." — which means "Enjoy Life Into the End." Many of THA FACTOR's tats are in honor of family members. There's an intricate image on his chest that includes the names of his brothers, cousins, and three children, along with Asian characters that spell out a private message. "Rich" is on his left bicep, and "boys" is on his right. This is a reference to his sons, whom he calls "rich boys." Chinese letters that represent the words "father," "strength," "talent," and "smooth" are on his left forearm. He's also adorned with a popular-among-NBA-players Grim Reaper image. (If you want to read more about players' tattoos, check out New Times staff writer Niki D'Andrea's story on our Web site.)

Grant Hill is a specimen. But here's how he became one. He's been in the NBA since 1994, and he hasn't played that much. As they say, he's got young legs — until he got to the Suns. He spent six years with the Detroit Pistons and seven with the Orlando Magic before getting here, and he was injured a lot: ankle injuries, a life-threatening staph infection, a sports hernia. When he was with the Magic, he played only a third of the time. Two years ago, we gave Hill our lofty Best Sports Gimp award, but we have to eat, um, a little sweat sock now that Hill has been so, well, durable over the past couple of seasons. Iron-man durable. The third-oldest starter in the NBA last year had logged 128 straight games until a heal injury sidelined him for a measly game last January. Part of the reason is that run-and-gun poobah Mike D'Antoni is long gone as coach. Our argument in 2008 was that the hard-headed D'Antoni, who insisted on playing starters nearly whole games, had worn out Grant, who was injured at the end of D'Antoni's last season here, thus giving the Suns nothing in the playoffs. Coach Alvin Gentry has developed something D'Antoni never had: a stellar bench. Thus, Hill isn't needed as much. He starts but is spelled by the younger and brawnier Jared Dudley, among others. Thus, the team gets his slashing offense, glove-like defense, and floor-general ability (along with Steve Nash, with whom he's co-captain, Hill has the coolest head on the court and is an admirable playmaker in his own right. He was point-forward back in his Pistons days). The young Suns team — Robin Lopez, Earl Clark, Dudley, and a couple of new front-court acquisitions added in the off-season, notably — need the soon-to-be 38-year-old's wizened hand.

Gary Bender is simply the gold standard of sports broadcasting in Phoenix. You're in good hands with him. He's traditionally upbeat (after all, sports is entertainment), but he isn't afraid to call out players and coaches when they've messed up. You may be saying that giving Bender, 69, the nod ain't saying much, considering the competition of play-by-play guys like the Arizona Diamondbacks' fawning Daron Sutton. But Bender would shine in any market. Indeed, he has. He started his career broadcasting University of Kansas basketball and football games. He worked for CBS Sports doing National Football League broadcasts, alongside the likes of John Madden, for 11 years in the 1970s and '80s; he spent two years in the late '80s as a play-by-play baseball broadcaster for ABC, and worked NFL games for TNT, beside Pat Haden, from '92-94. In his autobiography, Call of the Game, Bender cites Reggie Jackson's huge ego in describing run-ins he had with the baseball great in the broadcast booth: "Reggie demanded things he hadn't earned the right to demand. He wanted more attention. He insisted we adjust our way of doing things for him." Last year, Gary took a break from his regular gig on Fox Sports Arizona to broadcast a TNT game with Reggie Miller. Let's hope Reggie and Charles Barkley don't persuade the national network to steal him away. We're lucky to have a pro behind the mic in this desert of bush-league talent.

Eddie Johnson drives us nuts. He spends way too much time bragging about his exploits in the NBA, where he played for a bevy of teams, including the Suns, the Houston Rockets, and the Kansas City-turned-Sacramento Kings. He was what commentators like himself nowadays call "well-traveled." Not that Johnson was any slouch in his prime. Though he never made an All-Star team, he did score 45 points once in a game against the Clippers in 1988 and was Sixth Man of the Year as a bench player for Phoenix in 1989. But when he compares himself with some of the greats of the game today, we have to wince.Before he became a Suns assistant coach, Dan Majerle used to share color-commenting for Suns games with Johnson, and Majerle, who also had a high on-air opinion of himself, came across as retiring. Eddie, you're a well-preserved former player (at 51, an NBA elder statesman) whom today's players obviously like, but . . Stop ragging on sometimes broadcast play-by-play partner Tom Leander as a wimp who never played serious basketball. Of course he didn't — Leander's no bigger than a pygmy. You'd never pull that with your other broadcast cohort, Gary Bender. The old guy'd probably pop you one. Stop talking about yourself. Dude, you've been out of the game for a decade-plus. Nobody cares. Also stop using "rhythm" so freakin' much! Granted, "rhythm" is something basketball players need to turn in great performances, but, Eddie, you can barely speak during broadcasts without using the word. This guy's lost his rhythm, that guy's got great rhythm, the other guy needs to find some rhythm, basketball's a game of rhythm. Rhythm, rhythm, rhythm, rhythm, rhythm. Stop it, before we go crazy!

When it comes to pro sports in this town, these gals wear the capes. First of all, the best woman's basketball player in the game today, Diana Taurasi, plays for the Phoenix Mercury. Among her many accolades, Taurasi's a three-time WNBA All-Star, a two-time Olympic Gold Medalist, 2004 WNBA Rookie of the Year, her league's scoring leader in both average (25.3 a game) and points in a season (860), and a number-one draft pick out of Connecticut. And by the time the six-year pro is done with her career, she'll probably be the WNBA's best ever. But the unstoppable Taurasi isn't responsible for the Mercury's success alone. There've been Cappie Pondexter, who now plays for the New York Liberty; Penny Taylor; and Tangela Smith. The Mercury are, by far, the most successful (when it comes to winning it all) sports franchise in the Valley. Sure, the Suns have been to the NBA Finals, the Cardinals have been to the Super Bowl, and the Diamondbacks have won the World Series, but the Mercury have won two (two!) WNBA Championships. Two: in 2007 against the Detroit Shock, under legendary coach Paul Westhead, and in 2009 against the Indiana Fever, under coach Corey Gaines. This is not to mention the team's three Western Conference Championships in their 13-year history. They're not destined to go all the way this summer season, but they've still won two out of four trophies in the last four years. Okay, you're probably saying that the champions mean nothing because the WNBA's just a bunch of tall girls. Say it again, and Tenacious D will kick your ass.

What's the point of Dennis Erickson? When he was hired to replace embattled coach Dirk Koetter back in 2007, eyebrows raised. But not nearly enough among alumni hungry for a head coach who could bring Arizona State University the consistent gridiron glory it longed for. As we pointed out in a cover story back then, the veteran coach brought baggage, including a dozen scholarship players getting arrested at the University of Miami, where he'd been coach in the 1990s. Miami's sins became so bad that Sports Illustrated published a feature in '96 with the cover headline "Why the University of Miami Should Drop Football." He was with the NFL Seattle Seahawks by the time the NCAA stripped 34 scholarships from Miami's football program and placed the school on three years' probation, which meant it was banned from bowl-game participation during the period. The thuggery of players while Erickson was at Miami was particularly troubling since dismissed ASU coach Koetter had coddled a thug of his own, Loren Wade, whose erratic behavior escalated until he killed a former player in an argument over a girl in a nightclub parking lot (he's now serving time in Arizona). But none of this mattered to a majority of alums, who only cared about Erickson's two national championships at Miami. Okay, now ratchet forward three years and ask yourself: Was Erickson — after two losing seasons in a row at ASU (the first such sorry succession in six decades at the school) and little hope of posting a winning season this fall — a good hire? Clearly, Athletic Director Lisa Love must be kicking herself over this boneheaded blunder. Hmm, maybe Erickson didn't bring in enough sociopaths this time around.

No one, and we mean no one, invigorated the long-moribund professional football franchise known as the Arizona Cardinals more than Kurt Warner, a future Hall of Fame quarterback with a penchant for connecting on long bombs and suffering too many concussions in the process. We watched as Warner, seemingly on his way out of the league a few years ago and on board to serve as a bench mentor to then-anointed QB-of-the-future Matt Leinart, ascended to the starting role and led the Cards to the Super Bowl against the Pittsburgh Steelers. The dude with the big-time gun was one of the best we've ever seen at downfield throwing, and with just a little flick of his wrist. But we also saw old Kurt (37 years and counting) take shot after shot from those hulks of monstrous defensemen known as middle linebackers. How many times can one guy's brains get rammed into the turf before he turns into, say, Muhammad Ali? Time to call it a day, and for real. We strongly suspect that Kurt's wife, the ubiquitous mother of seven, Brenda, will make sure that he doesn't pull a Brett Favre and come out of retirement to play "just one more year."

Thanks to Hit Girl, the pint-size heroine of Kick-Ass, we've figured out that anyone can be a superhero given the right training. Founded by sixth-degree Black Belt and former Army Special Forces operative John Nottingham, USA Martial Arts doesn't wimp out by teaching just karate or aikido. The school's intense program combines tae kwon do, Filipino stick fighting, jiu-jitsu, kickboxing, and other self-defense techniques to aid you in your endless struggle against evil (or your growing gut). If you're worried you won't be able to keep up, rest assured USA has starter classes for those who "just couldn't find the time to exercise," so even if you're a couch potato, you'll be kicking ass like Hit Girl in no time.

Remember that old chestnut about how "if man were meant to fly, he'd be born with wings"? Try telling that to the human psyche, which seems to subconsciously craves to defy Isaac Newton's theory and break the surly bonds of gravity (as evidenced by all those freaky-deaky flying dreams you had as kid). Since commercial air travel is hardly fun anymore (unless you're pimp enough to ride first class), we suggest spending some serious scrilla in exchange for an afternoon aerial adventure at Phoenix-Mesa Gateway Airport. If the savings account is swank enough, the flight instructors of Fighter Combat International can help you kiss the sky in style while in the cockpit of pint-size Extra 300L plane. For the cost of about $485 for the basic experience, willing Wright Brothers wanna-bes are subjected to a half-hour of barrel rolls, hammerheads, and other aeronautical acrobatics. Prices get steeper from there, depending on flight length or whether you'd like to handle the controls. (Packages featuring Top Gun-like mock dogfights with simulated weapons are also available, albeit at costs ranging from $755 to $3,815.) While flight suit rentals are included, airsickness bags are optional. And sadly, Wonder Woman, your plane will not be invisible.

Every kid wants to join the circus, whether he dreams of taming lions or flying on the trapeze. Unfortunately, most kids, like us, never had the balls or the skills to run off with Barnum & Bailey. But those childhood dreams aren't lost at Trapeze U, where performer and "adventure enthusiast" Dylan Phillips will literally teach you how to fly. The university is set up like a school, with pretty lenient admissions — if you're in decent health and at least 4 years old, there's a good chance you're in. For $65, you can learn the basics in a Trapeze 101 class that offers several opportunities to play toss and catch. Trapeze U also offers two-for-one Family Fun Nights and a seven-week intensive course for $350, which culminates in a circus-style show. Afterwards, all you have to do is wait for the Big Top to roll into town and try to hitch a ride.

See: a video interview with Luis Gonzalez.

Sports superstars in Phoenix have a nasty habit of choking in big-game opportunities. Not so with Luis Gonzalez.

With one extraordinarily timed swing of his baseball bat during the 2001 World Series, the Arizona Diamondbacks slugger reinforced his hero status to thousands of locals — myself included — by doing what Charles Barkley or Kurt Warner never could: He brought a major-league championship to the Valley.

And I got to witness this historic occasion firsthand after dropping $400 on eBay for a nosebleed seat inside what was then Bank One Ballpark.

Gonzo's triumph was one of the most thrilling moments of my life and the stuff of baseball lore: game seven, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, score tied — against the dreaded New York Yankees. On the mound was the Bronx Bomber's notorious Mariano Rivera, one of the deadliest closers in baseball.

Few players have scored against Mighty Mariano, especially during a Fall Classic. But when Gonzo swung for the fences on that fateful evening, he transformed a cut fastball into a game-winning bloop single. It shattered his bat and obliterated decades of Phoenicians' frustration with athletic also-rans who just couldn't grab hold of the brass ring.

Gonzalez overcame such insurmountable odds for most of his career. Before donning a D-Backs uniform in 1999, he spent nearly a decade shuffling among three MLB teams (Detroit Tigers, Chicago Cubs, and Houston Astros) as an ignominious utility player.

After moving to Phoenix, however, he became a sports legend, home run machine, and the most beloved player in team history. Fans like me loved his countless crowd-pleasing swats as well as his affable nature, sense of humor, charity work, and family-man image.

Gonzalez has always been approachable. He never seems to refuse giving an autograph or handshake to fans, whether he's in public with his wife and triplets or by himself at a pro wrestling event (like me, he's a longtime follower of World Wrestling Entertainment).

Despite having ended his baseball career in 2009 with the Los Angeles Dodgers, he's still popular in the Valley. A sellout crowd (a rarity these days) packed Chase Field last month to watch Gonzo become the first Diamondbacks player to have his number retired. And many fans are hoping he can turn around the team's fortunes in his current front-office job as special assistant to team president Derrick Hall.

Ever the humble one, however, Gonzo tends to shirk his heroic status.

"I don't really consider myself any different than anybody else," he says. — Benjamin Leatherman

New Times clubs editor Benjamin Leatherman, who has suffered through decades of losing seasons by Valley sports teams, interviewed Luis Gonzalez on September 3 at Chase Field in Phoenix.

I live in Phoenix because I love the hot weather.

When I was a kid, I wanted to guide the airplanes in with the orange sticks, actually.

While I'm driving, I enjoy listening to the radio.

Phoenix could use more air-conditioning, more shade.

Phoenix could use less of those intersection radar light things.

Umpires are nice guys at times.

Right before I got the game-winning hit in the World Series, I thought, "Oh, my god, don't screw this up."

The one athlete (alive or dead) that I would have liked to meet would be Roberto Clemente.

The best thing about being a hero to people is when they finally get to meet you, they realize you're just a normal guy.

Right before I go to bed, I always put a bottle of water and a bottle of Gatorade by the bed.