We hear that a major reason JJ wanted to go is that some of the Suns players treated him like a bumpkin. See, he doesn't favor the blang-blang of Suns players like star center/forward Amaré Stoudemire, and it's true that JJ has trouble getting a coherent sentence out of his country-fried mouth during postgame interviews. As for Stoudemire vs. Johnson, there was the much-publicized incident in which a snarling Amaré asked JJ during a playoff game if he planned to play "fucking defense?!"
Seems Joe's shy little feelings were damaged beyond repair. Whatever . . . JJ's reasoning must have been clouded by way too much time in the Arizona sun, because he'd have to be suffering from baked-brain syndrome to prefer playing for the worst team in the NBA last year rather than take a little ribbing from certain members of our title-contending purple-and-orangemen. JJ, where was the love for the city and franchise that made yours a household name? Our hearts are as broken as the Salt River bottom after Old Sol has dried up those monsoon puddles.
Sure enough, our fondest memory of Ike came on the floor of the Wells Fargo Arena, where the Sun Devils play their home games. But it wasn't about him dunking a basketball, blocking a shot, or using that big butt of his to move an opposing player out of the lane. No, we'll remember most that moment last December 21 when the ASU women's team upset powerful Connecticut at the arena. Ike, who was in attendance as a fan, danced onto the floor and joyously jumped up and down with dozens of other ASU students. That was Ike, blessed with athletic skills and an inner grace that elude all but a few of us -- and a hell of a decent guy to boot.
Dressed in an elaborate costume consisting of a full-body skeleton suit, shoulder pads, spiked collar, rubber snake headdress, scepter and fangs, he's been attending more games -- both home and away -- than he's bothered to count, firing up the fans and players of the Valley's Arena Football League franchise for years now.
There was a recent scare among the "Pitizens" -- a.k.a. the fan base of the two-time ArenaBowl champions -- that the Valley's favorite footballers were headed out of town, but new majority owner Bob Hernreich quelled such rumors when he announced back in July that the team would continue to slink around America West Arena for years to come.
Some say it was smart sports management that saved the day, but we'd like to think it was Rattler Man.
The Surprise Complex includes not only the gorgeous main stadium and 14 fields for the Texas Rangers and Kansas City Royals spring training season, but also 57 acres of parks and fields, a library, a five-acre lake, and the city's administrative offices. It is more than a place to watch and play sports; it's the progressive heart of a new city, a thoughtful common ground for the common good -- one that should be a shining model for the rest of the Valley.
We won't tell you who we've heard hangs out at the Scottsdale topless club, who gets lap dances, who gets drunk, who gets crazy. We won't even tell you which teams they play for, although you do know that Scottsdale Stadium's just up the street and around the corner, and Phoenix Muni's not far, either. You know us, we don't want to make trouble. We're just in the business of providing information.
The answer to the question: Babe's.
Today, the urban legends are locals trying to improve their game on one of Encanto's three full courts. The complex, which also houses volleyball and racquetball courts, is open Mondays through Fridays from 5 to 10 p.m., and Saturdays and Sundays from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. Equipment checkout is available, and admission is always free.