"You play like a fag!" That's arguably the most insulting barb a person can hurl in the homophobic world of sports. But if you say that to one of the guys bending it like Beckham for the Florida Storm, he might take the jab as a compliment. That's because the Florida Storm is Broward County's gay soccer team. Formed last summer, the Storm has enjoyed early success, bringing home a gold medal at the 2003 International Gay and Lesbian Football Association World Cup Tournament in Boston. This year, the team will compete in tournaments in New York and San Francisco. But that's not all. In addition to kicking grass across the country, the Storm shows gay pride off the field, dressing in uniform for local pride parades and manning an information booth at this year's South Florida PrideFest. And, it should be noted, these guys got skills. Stop by Holiday Park in Fort Lauderdale on a Saturday afternoon and watch these Marys practice. Once you see Joe Arndt slip a sweet pass between two defenders so that it lands on Gerwin Mucke's right foot, you'll understand how the Storm became first-year champions. For more information, visit
www.floridastormsoccer.com.
The 2003 version of the Marlins wasn't just the best team in South Florida, or in baseball, or in all of sports last year. They were, from a dramatic standpoint, one of the best teams in recent memory. First off, the horribly nicknamed "Men in Teal" weren't supposed to do much, except maybe give the Braves some decent practice before the postseason. And the team's risking of a large percentage of its payroll on an aging star catcher seemed a bit odd, if strangely welcome. To no one's surprise, the Fish came floundering out, quickly falling to a dismal record. Then they hired Jack McKeon, a septuagenarian manager who decided to trade his grandkids for one more chance at major league glory. Then some kid pitcher named Dontrelle Willis, who had a delivery reminiscent of a prehistoric mating dance, joined the club -- and captured the country with an eight-game winning streak. Then another kid named Miguel Cabrera joined the team and, in his first game, hit a walk-off home run to win it. Then that aging catcher, Pudge Rodriguez, carried the club to the pennant. Josh Beckett, the young ace with a Texas drawl, finished off the Yankees in New York to win the world championship. So... what about this year? They're going to be good, damn good. But failing to sign the only sure Hall of Famer on the team -- that aging catcher -- wasn't smart. Expect them to make the postseason but fall short of a repeat.
Nobody really seemed to think much of Juan Pierre when the Marlins signed him last offseason. Fast guy, kind of goofy looking, solid hitter, but not someone who would ever, as he might put it in his hyperbolic fashion, shock the world. But in a way, he did, using his dashing speed to help the Marlins win the World Series. He led the league in stolen bases -- but to do that, he had to get on, and he did it in all sorts of ways. Lacing line shots to the gaps, hitting the rare home run (OK, he got one), running out the infield hits. But it was those bunt singles that really made him special, his magical ability to absorb a 93-mph fastball with his bat and make it crawl like a baby down the baseline while he sped to the bag. Out in center, he had a knack for chasing down balls that had
triple stamped all over them. Pierre doesn't have the glove talent of an Andruw Jones or a Jim Edmonds, but he makes up for it with speed and will. And he was a key part of the Marlins' magic. Remember the demoralizing 25-8 drubbing by the Red Sox in June? The very next night, the Fish incredibly overcame a 9-2 deficit to take a one-run lead in the ninth. Then, with a man on second, Johnny Damon ripped what looked like a sure game-tying single to center. Pierre charged, dove, and somehow caught the ball two inches off the ground to start a double-play and end the game. Oh, he had four hits, a walk, and two steals in that one too. Run, Juan, run.
OK, so we know you aren't the gaudy type whose tikes hanker for those newfangled water parks like Castaway Island in Hollywood. And the high-tech stuff in Fort Lauderdale's Holiday Park, which includes a train locomotive, is a little too much for your precious little rowdies. So consider this: There's a modest collection of swings, slides, and other climbables
on the ocean near Angelo's Corner (954-923-0679) on Hollywood Beach. The kids love this place, cuz there are lots of others there. There are picnic shelters, nearby paddleball courts, and of course, it's
on the ocean, so the aesthetics are, well, perfect. At Angelo's, you can get a pitcher of beer and a slice, then watch the kids while they do their business.
Located on the eastern periphery of downtown West Palm Beach, Flagler Drive is the picturesque waterfront roadway that embodies the city's more enticing aesthetic qualities. Each year, the road is home to a few significant cardio-related events, such as the American Heart Association's HeartWalk and the Komen Breast Cancer Foundation's Race for the Cure. But even when the street isn't blocked off for pedestrian use, the wide sidewalk that runs along the Intracoastal Waterway is ideal for those early-morning jogs. With the island of Palm Beach across the Intracoastal to the east, the horizon spreads out just enough for you to take in the rising sun while you burn those breakfast calories. And don't worry about the hustle and bustle of the nearby automobiles; the sidewalk is set far enough back from the road to keep the traffic at a distance, and you don't even have to cross through any intersections. Also, the sparsely strewn line of palm trees on the grass median adds a nice tropical touch to the otherwise urban view. It'll tempt even the most ardent couch potato to strap on some sneakers and hit the pavement.
There are those cool gyms. You know the ones. Lotsa lycra, gizmos galore, and shoes that cost more than the gross national product of Honduras. Well, those aren't for us. We like kids who fly through the air with the greatest and then sneeze. The top location for this is Tag Gymnastics in Weston. The place has produced "a steady stream of state and national champions," according to co-owner Elena Lechner. One of them, Ruben Chamorro, recently took the overall Florida title for 10-year-olds. Tag, which has been open since 1973, for the last four years at its relatively obscure location near a Home Depot, is a great place for kids and adults. It has wonderful pits filled with large chunks of foam rubber that are meant for training but also provide a soft landing pad for the would-be human flier. There are floor-level trampolines too. Costs aren't bad at this Olympic-level training facility. One hour a week for 12 weeks will set you back $170. And if you want to have a kids birthday party here, they have a bounce house and the largest indoor blow-up slide that we have ever seen. And we've seen a lot. Birthday parties cost $200 for two hours and up to 20 children.
Lots of people like to rent canoes and paddle the Loxahatchee River in North Palm Beach County or Everglades National Park way down near Homestead. Some local stalwarts stand by Hollywood's Anne Kolb Nature Center. But we're more civilized. We like to drop our ocean kayak in the drink near the eastern end of South South Lake Drive, open a cold one, and drift around. You can see a passel of million-dollar homes here, open another brewski, and then zip around the corner on the Intracoastal Waterway to North Lake. There aren't too many motor boats in these parts, so you'll be able to relax and maybe strike up a conversation with a friendly homeowner. If not, hey, there are several bars on the water -- including our all-time favorite, Le Tub (954-921-9425), so you can stop in for a quick one. Not that we recommend drinking while boating. Uh-uh.
A couple of kids chatter at each other in Creole. Then one issues this proclamation: "It'll be us two small guys against you two big guys. And we'll win." Other big guy turns out to be a lout, and these scamps can ball, so indeed, the big guys crash hard. That's the egalitarian world of hoops at Holiday Park. So you're a chunky preteen with no skills. Or a 4-year-old whose papa's busy balling on the next court. Or a scrappy 20-something with jeans sagging to the middle of your buttcheeks. Doesn't matter, because practically everyone gets to play somewhere on these two courts, despite the run-and-gun, five-on-five games that dominate the west court from about 7 to 9 most nights. On a given day, you're likely to hear as many as four languages, see games of all skill levels, and enjoy lights until 11 p.m. Even after the lights go black, the more ferocious games of one-on-one persevere as shooting, shouting shadow ballet. During summer evenings, courts are blocked off for league practice, but you can play around that, right?
In our fair region, it seems that every real estate developer shares the same approach. In a word, bulldoze. We're not saying that the Jacaranda golf course is one of the natural wonders of the world, but its designer (Mark Mahannah) did take advantage of its beautiful tropical environment. Ficus, live oak, banyan, and, yes, jacaranda trees create a luscious atmosphere. But don't let that distract you from the cruel game of golf. Jacaranda has two par 72 courses; at each, 16 of 18 holes are bordered by water. On the east course, greens vary in shape and size and provide the aggressive player a chance for birdie with the risk of bogey. The shorter, tighter west course requires you to become a more exacting player. Prices range from $35 in low season to $99 on holidays, with discounts for Broward and Palm Beach county residents. Readers' Choice: PGA National Resort & Spa
Really now, unless you're retired or without family of any kind, isn't 18 holes a bit much? You've got a life and, hell, you play a full round and the entire day has been duffed. That's why we often opt to play at Eco Golf Club, the best nine holes in Broward County. It's a beautiful and challenging 2,259-yard half-course, with four par 3s, four par 4s, and a good par 5 that you can walk or cart. Recently renovated, it's sprinkled with lush landscaping -- and the greens play like pool-table tops. Best of all, at $12 to $14 a pop, it's about half the price of your average dozen-and-a-half-hole public courses. And when you're done, you've got plenty of time to stop in at the 19th Hole bar -- yeah, it should be called the 10th Hole, but who's counting? -- and have a few buck-50 drafts while keeping in mind that all things, even golf, are best had in moderation.
Who woulda thunk that a bucolic setting such as this would be so close to the hubbub of I-95? Well, the producers of
There's Something About Mary were certainly savvy enough to find it. For it was upon Aqua's small fake-turf tees that Matt Dillon began his clumsy overtures to win the heart of Mary, played by Cameron Diaz. Which means, by just driving a $4.75 bucket of balls into the range's huge pond, you'll have achieved a mere one degree of separation from the goddess Diaz -- or for the more bizarre-minded, one degree from Dillon. If, however, your passion is misplaced on golfing rather than stunning blond actresses, then you'll be pleased to know that Aqua is open days, evenings, and weekends and offers lessons for men, women, and children.
You can tame this bobbing brute for about the same cost as a cheeseburger. By 9 p.m. on Wednesdays, when the capsizing critter rolls onto the dance floor, five bucks gets you in the door. Hubris and maybe a shot of whiskey is all it takes to clamber aboard the bucking bovid. But boy howdy, you best dig your heels into the sleek, hard sides of that magnificent mechanical moo-cow if you're going to last. Clamber on, champ, then get that arm in the air, like you're reaching for the disco ball above you. Only them effete, city-born mollycoddles use two goddamned hands, son.
Everyone remembers that woolly October, with Pudge doing his best Cerberus impression at home plate and Josh Beckett mowing down Yankees. But were it not for Willis' summer, the champagne-soaked 2003 Marlins would have been the yeah, whatever 2002 Marlins. In May, the Fish were reeling from injuries when Willis, 21, got the call from Double A. He jumped in with 11-2, smiled for the cover of ESPN the Magazine, and became an unlikely sensation (that double-wide grin! that whiplash windup!) for a team with renewed verve. The Fish bottomed out at 19-29 on May 22, then closed the season at a 72-42 clip, tops in the majors down that stretch. In retrospect, their preposterous postseason looks like destiny, but those selfsame indestructible Marlins were scrapping for a Wild Card spot until autumn. Willis, the National League Rookie of the Year, was the reason they were even in contention. The capper: He's all of 22. Readers' Choice: Josh Beckett
OK, so you aren't on television risking imminent unemployment at the hands of real estate mogul Donald Trump on
The Apprentice. That doesn't mean you can't hobnob with "The Donald." If you're willing to put out, that is, and we mean big bucks --
really big bucks. For just getting into Mar-a-Lago, Trump's oh-so-exclusive private club in Palm Beach, you'll put out 150 grand. And that doesn't even include the $9,200 annual dues. Trump snapped up the nearly 20 acres that were formerly home to cereal heiress Marjorie Merriweather Post and her second husband, E.F. Hutton, in 1985, paying a mere $7 million for the 110,000-square-foot, 118-room estate and its contents. Locals feared he might do something vulgar, like divvying it up into smaller parcels or turning it into a casino. Instead, he plunked down another $2 million for a beach and created a haven for the ultrarich (and got an award last year from the Historical Society of Palm Beach County for restoring the property). If you're among them, you'll have access to an expanse of beach, tennis courts, a swimming pool, and a spa. You'll also be expected to live up to the image of a contemporary Palm Beach aristocrat, as in driving the right vehicle (better yet, being driven in it), wearing the right clothes, eating the right food, shelling out for the right charities. The costs? Incalculable. The benefits? Priceless.
During our great nation's early history, as Europeans fought with the native people for control of precious land, the Seminole Indians of Florida established an alliance with escaped African slaves. They had a common enemy: angry ol' Mr. Whitey. But this alliance was by no means the strangest in the Seminoles' history. You can behold the strangest yourself when you look west from Interstate 95 as you pass the Stirling Road exit. That monstrous tower on the horizon, built through a partnership between the Seminoles and London's Hard Rock Cafe, is about as bizarre an alliance as you'll find. Still, the newly opened Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino has quickly changed gambling in South Florida. A 130,000-square-foot facility open around the clock, Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino features more than 2,000 money-thieving machines and 40 to 60 tables of poker offering such old standbys as Seven-Card Stud and Texas Hold 'Em. What's more, this casino's location between the Fort Lauderdale and Hollywood downtown areas should make this gleaming new popsicle stand one that Gen. Custer would have saluted.
Park space comes in a couple of distinct varieties. First, there are those swatches of jungle speckling the map; the old-growth, thousand-acre preserves that muffle the sounds of motors, block the views of buildings, and launch your thoughts out of this stultifying alleged civilization for a few hours. These parks are mistresses. The other main sort of park, the wife parks, are those that nestle into the cityscape like oases, as if air and grass and peace and physical joy belong in your average day. Count the 13-acre park that horseshoes around Lauderhill's City Hall and library among the latter category. After civic meetings, residents cross the parking lot to play cricket on the lighted field. Kids clog the basketball courts just steps away from the Boys & Girls Club. A waterfall rolls out of the back of City Hall into a small lake. Tennis and racquetball courts, a playground, and picnic pavilions -- all surround the most staid of civic strongholds, a bit of country in the city, freeing us even inside the grid. Readers' Choice: T.Y. Park, Quiet Waters Park (tie)
Twenty years ago, the only thing a park would need to keep the kids happy was a baseball field and a concession stand. Nowadays, parks need to offer traditional sports facilities, as well as something for youngsters into the Xtreme sports of skateboarding and rollerblading. Phipps Park caters to both crowds, offering a place where kids can slide into first base and slide down a handrail. The nearly 40-acre park features lighted baseball fields, a soccer field, a pavilion, a roller hockey rink, and the Sanctuary Skate Park. The skate park includes a miniramp, several quarter-pipes, and the usual assortment of street obstacles (fun box, manual box, pyramid). Sanctuary also has its own skate shop carrying all the latest products for skateboarders and in-line skaters. In addition to its existing facilities, Phipps Park plans to add a wet play area and plaza at the north end of the park. So, whether you're into fastballs or kickflips -- or just relaxing under a tree -- Phipps Park is a safe bet for some real fun in the sun. Readers' Choice: Spanish River
Too often, urban parks are built on unwanted or undevelopable land. Not this one. This 13-acre hideaway just west of downtown Fort Lauderdale existed as a three-hole (!) golf course from the early '50s until the early '70s, when the land was dredged for bedrock. Named in honor of one of Fort Lauderdale's first African-American cops (shot and killed on April 18, 1977) and next door to the African-American Research Library and Cultural Center, this modest park nestled in a sleepy crook of the New River is a little-known gem. A perfect spot for an outdoor lunch or early-morning bike ride on the path that circles the lake, the ideal time to visit is near sunset, when the new skyscrapers of downtown take on a deep orange glow and are reflected in the water.
What dummy thought of this category? Duh... the best picnic spot is from the lido deck of your yacht. What? You don't have one? Oh. Well, what shall we do about you then? Ah, here's a good one -- leave your car at Phil Foster Park beside the Blue Heron bridge that links Riviera Beach with Singer Island. Next, you'll still need use of a boat, but any kayak, rowboat, or even the water taxi will do ($5 a person). Cruise south, a mere couple of hundred feet across the Intracoastal Waterway, and hook up to one of Peanut Island's docks (free) or pull up on its beach (also free). This wee island is an unmatched spot for a picnic. It's got nature trails, showers, a pay phone, tent pads, picnic shelters, tables, charcoal grills, and a fire ring. And there's even a nuclear bomb shelter, which was built for part-time Palm Beacher John F. Kennedy during his presidency. Yes, the island has been undergoing a major face-lift, so there's a bit of lingering construction -- but most of that should be out of the way by summer. One thing to watch out for: sandbars during low tide. Ready, set, row! We'll wave at you from the yacht! Readers' Choice: T.Y. Park
Before the flaming Fab Five of
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy went on television and made being a metrosexual oh so cool, real men played pool in smoky bars with grimy tables and sticks as crooked as the bartender, whose scowl could melt the paint off a freshly pimped ride. But, alas, times have changed, and so have pool halls. Nothing represents this shift in the velvety felt better than the new Billiard Club at the Oasis at Sawgrass Mills in Sunrise. Located on the second floor, the Billiard Club features 20 Brunswick Gold Crown regulation tables, a gourmet menu, and a full bar. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer panoramic views of Broward County's Mother of All Malls. And best yet, the sticks are as straight as the young cocktail waitresses who saunter gracefully between tables and cues, drink-laden trays in hand, dressed in miniskirts and black tuxedo shirts. Hours are 4 p.m. to 2 a.m. on weekdays and 4 p.m. to 3 a.m. on weekends (the Sunrise location opens at 5 p.m.). Table prices range from $10.50 to $15 per hour depending upon time and the number of players.
"Thank you for calling the Ground Swell Surf Report. Today is Saturday; the shop is open from 10 until 6 p.m. We have a great selection of sandals and boards inside the shop, the north county's friendliest store. Surf conditions at the Juno Pier at 6:45 a.m.: The wind is out of the northeast at about ten miles an hour. The surf is running at about thigh-high, and the wind is making for choppy but ridable conditions. Have a great day." No, it's not a robot making this recording, despite her totally predictable, totally reliable, totally-useful-bro surf report. It's shop owner Susan French, who does surfers a huge favor in the wee hours of every morning-- even on Saturdays and Sundays! That means that when you call, you know whether to jump out of bed and strap the boards to the roof or whether to roll over, wrap your arms around that furry thing you sleep with, and ride the waves back in dreamland.
And lo, unto the buffet didst thou go, and there ye did tarry amongst the starches and plentiful prime rib, sinking ever deeper into the iniquity of two dozen kinds of pies, taking into thy breast the butter-fried tilapia and candied pork. And then didst thy body protest against thy loin garment. And the heavens opened, and a voice commanded, "Get thee to a temple of weights." So moved by the words and thy greatness of girth didst thou wander into Faith Body Fitness for redemption. Then did ye casteth thine eyes upon the wall and readeth the holy motto from I Corinthians 6:19: "What? Know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own?" And thou cast down $350 for a one-year membership. And thy heart and soul and gut stood right with the Lord.
Fort Lauderdale is a city of contrasts, and nowhere are the contrasts more startling than when you stand on the corner of Las Olas Boulevard and A1A. To your left, you'll see the infamous Elbo Room, where young out-of-towners receive their drinking badges. It can be humanity at its worst. But then look at the Atlantic Ocean. About a third of a mile from where you stand is one of the world's most beautiful coral reef systems, an underwater paradise home to thousands of creatures much more interesting than the ones you'll find at the Elbo Room. Fort Lauderdale's reef system consists of three separate coral ridges that run parallel to shore. Depths of the ridge closest to our pearly-white sand are as shallow as eight feet, giving snorkelers an opportunity for breathtaking views of nurse sharks, sea turtles, goliath groupers, and other reef-dwelling creatures. Among the companies offering snorkeling trips to this local wonder of a reef system are Pro Dive, 515 Seabreeze Blvd., Fort Lauderdale, 954-776-3483; and Sea Experience, 801 Seabreeze Blvd., Fort Lauderdale, 954-467-6000.
The Dolphins couldn't score last year, couldn't throw, couldn't catch, couldn't return kicks. They did, however, play some defense. The 'Fins gave up only 16.3 points a game, third in the NFL, and were fifth against the rush. For those spare blessings, give a steaming slab of credit to Ogunleye, he of the AFC-leading 15 sacks and Pro Bowl start at defensive end, where he and Jason Taylor formed a formidable pass rush. Once in each of the past two years, he's been named AFC Defensive Player of the Week, and his $375,000 salary last season made him one of the league's blatant bargains. The 27-year-old has bloodthirsty cyborg Drew Rosenhaus as an agent, though, so in South Florida or elsewhere, he'll make what he's worth this year -- which, if you ask the Dolphins, is plenty. Readers' Choice: Zach Thomas
You better get your fill of baseball now, while it's still the national pastime. 'Cause if Bob Alman has his way -- and he's so persistent, passionate, and charismatic, there's a good chance he will -- we'll all be taking each other out to a different kind of ball game pretty soon. Alman started playing croquet as a youngster but could never beat his dear old grandma. "This kind of thing scars you for life," he says. He played intermittently before moving to San Francisco in the 1970s, where he and his friends -- whom he describes as "intellectual outlaws" -- invented guerrilla croquet. "We would dress in white and go to places we didn't belong," Alman says. "We climbed the walls of the Spreckles Mansion in broad daylight. We played on a military base." Because of their outfits, they "looked authoritative" and rarely got booted from the property. "We went to Hewlett-Packard headquarters, and the security guard bought us lemonade. We played at the governor's mansion in Sacramento." Besides having convinced the City of San Francisco to build the country's first public croquet lawns, Alman was instrumental in lobbying for the establishment of the National Croquet Center in West Palm Beach, where he now works as a consultant. Recently, Alman has been promoting more variations on croquet, including Toequet (in which you ditch the mallets and kick oversize balls through giant wickets) and Extreme MalletBall (in which Toequet's oversized balls are used but mallets are reintroduced). He's taking these sports to recreation leaders around the region; and soon, the state; and not long afterward, to a baseball diamond near you.
21940 Griffin Rd.
Weston
954-434-8111
www.evergladesholidaypark.com As all bicyclists know, the safest place to ride is anyplace you won't get flattened by a car. Given our scarcity of urban bike paths, hard-core riders have taken to the lonely levees that line the Everglades: those long, straight, shadeless fire-access roads motor vehicles aren't permitted on. One favorite mountain-biking spot is handily located just on the edge of civilization at Everglades Holiday Park. Bypass the tourists, the deafening airboats, and the gator wrasslin' by parking just outside the main entrance, just south of the huge pump station. From here, you can ride up and down the north-south L-30 Canal, which runs slightly west of U.S. 27. You can also ride to Levee 67-A west of L-30 and explore the area known as "The Pocket." Head south along 67-A (which goes all the way to the Tamiami Trail) until you reach the gauging station at the Miami Canal, which takes drinking water straight to the Magic City from Lake Okeechobee. Follow the canal one mile southeast to Levee 67-C. This area between the two levees, which stays wet year 'round, is the Pocket. Wading birds, turtles, and alligators are innumerable, and except for a few fishermen, it's all yours. Proceed north on 67-C, which takes you right back to Holiday Park, where you can pound down a cold Bud and eat a chili dog or two. The above-outlined loop is only about 12 miles. If you skip the Miami Canal crossover and choose to circumnavigate the entire Pocket, bear in mind it's more than a 50-mile roundtrip. Without lots of water, bug repellent, and sunscreen, take the extended version at your own risk. Readers' Choice: Quiet Waters Park
Toy Machine. Alien Workshop. Almost. Enjoi . Element. Baker. Black Label. Foundation. If you recognize these brand names and you're salivating right now, you might want to stop reading and start rolling down to B.C. Surf & Sport, a store run by skaters, for skaters. They always have at least 140 decks in stock, plus everything you need in terms of trucks, tools, and wheels. The cheapest deck (the B.C.) costs $35.99, and a complete setup will run you $120 to $220. And if you don't know what we're talking about -- but you want to -- call the shop's team riders, who will hook you up with some lessons.
The logo for Divers Unlimited is a dolphin holding a diploma in its fin. That explains exactly what you need to know about this dive shop, located on Pines Boulevard, just west of the Hollywood border. In addition to being one of the largest and most comprehensive dive shops in South Florida -- with row after row of wet suits, buoyancy-control devices, fins and masks, and even underwater cameras -- Divers Unlimited offers regular weekday and weekend PADI (Professional Association of Dive Instructors) certification courses, starting at $250. The course includes two days' worth of diving and ocean training as a scuba diver. If you're a South Florida resident with a sense of adventure, you're missing out if you're not already a certified diver. Thanks to the roaring Florida Straights acting as a constant cleaner, the reefs of Broward and Palm Beach counties are some of the most beautiful in the world.
Those who have heard of kiteboarding, the seemingly insane sport of connecting a high-powered kite to a wakeboard, might think of the windy coast of the Dominican Republic or Maui. In February, a new kiteboarding manufacturer called Best Kiteboarding is hoping to make the sport synonymous with Delray Beach. Owned by pro kiteboarder Shannon Best and associates Alex Shogren and Jeff Biege, the company advertises that its online sales will make the sport more affordable to the novice. The company claims to have cut in half the entry price for equipment, down to about $1,000 for the standard kite-and-board setup. The business plan seems to have worked: In its first month after opening in February, the web-only company sold more than a thousand kites, Shogren says. At that pace, the company projects it will become the world's largest kiteboard supplier by year's end. Shogren says South Florida's windy and warm climate make it ideal for the fledgling sport. "We're hoping it's gigantic here," Shogren says with confidence. "Because we're based here, Delray will become known for this."
In the 1980s, skateboarding emerged from burly, backyard pool sessions and into the world of popular culture. But as the decade came to an end, so did the sport's popularity. For skateboarding stalwarts, it was back to the streets -- and back underground. And in the early '90s, a new generation of skateboarding was born -- one that fused the board-flipping technicality of freestyle with the gnarly, high-flying daredevilry of vert skating. A few years later, skateboarding saw a huge resurgence with such mainstream events as ESPN's
X Games competition. Add to that the burgeoning popularity of inline skating and the demand for skateparks has never been greater. But today's skateparks have a new responsibility: to accommodate both experienced skaters and the scores of beginners, many of whom are under age 12. Welcome to Sunrise's Boardz-N-Bladez. The 12,000-square-foot park has the right combination of smooth and steep transitions, whether you're learning how to fakie or touching up on frontside airs. The indoor facility features half-pipes (a six-foot mini and a two-and-a-half-foot micro), quarter-pipes, stairs, a quarter-bowl, fun box, rails, ledges, banks, and -- for the more ballsy boarders and bladers -- a vert wall; plus, there's a four-foot miniramp outside. A two-hour session costs $10. On weekends, you can pay $25 for a whole day. And all you need for protection is a helmet!
This 6.5-mile jaunt through the waters around Wilton Manors offers more for the voyeur than the nature lover. The waters are always calm, the folks who rent out the kayaks are friendly (they also organize Full Moon Kayak, a sporadic night kayak ride preceded by a winetasting at a local spirits store), and the trips let you spy on various waterfront residents of Wilton Manors and Fort Lauderdale while learning a little about the history of the area (the whole "loop," which includes Middle River, North Fork, and South Fork and surrounds Wilton Manors, takes about two and a half to three hours to paddle). If you're going it alone, the kayak rental costs $12 an hour; if you've got a partner in crime, the cost is $17 an hour. Kayak rentals are available Saturday and Sunday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., but if you have the urge to boat during the week, arrangements can be made.
This hospital-sized bowling mecca wins on quantity. Sixty-four frickin' lanes (56 in Tamarac). A pro shop, a huge lounge, a massive snack bar, an arcade with air hockey and coin-op basketball. The main room is so large, it could develop its own weather patterns. The high school kids, well, they flock here. You should see the glee on a pimply face after rolling a strike in front of the girls. They may not show it, but they notice. They always notice.
You want a straightaway. A long one. Maybe a few gentle curves to keep it interesting and challenging. You want something to look at -- tropical vegetation, a seascape, a glimpse of sand and waves. Mostly, you want a clear path so you can get a little momentum going. There's a Zen-like rhythm to distance skating. You don't want to be colliding with window-shopping tourists or nannies pushing baby strollers. So where do you go? North Beach Broadwalk -- north of Hayes Street. It's out of the tourist loop, which includes most of the rest of the Broadwalk. It's not a favorite with pedestrians (though watch out for bikers). It has a smooth surface and sea breezes. For the skater, it's freakin' paradise. Readers' Choice: Fort Lauderdale Beach
At its best, a swimming pool is a rectangular waterhole, an aquamarine gathering place where the social rituals are played out with all of the underlying rigor of village life in Kenya or Bolivia. There's something about a gently rolling body of water that promotes communal ties. Nowhere is this more evident than the 75-foot pool at the heart of Jefferson at Young Circle, a 235-unit apartment complex in downtown Hollywood. The morning begins with preschoolers taking tentative steps into the shallow end as nannies or stay-at-home moms compare kiddie notes. By midmorning, the first of the sunbathers are out. They stretch out on chaise longues and dig into magazines and bestsellers, with the Walkman plugs coming off as friends stop by. On weekend afternoons, the picnics and birthday parties get started under the shade trees near the back, and a few rowdy kids play loud games in the water. Lots of Spanish, lots of Portuguese, plenty of beer. In the late afternoon, a service supervisor from a local car dealership strolls out, cell phone glued to his ear, and eases into the Jacuzzi. On hot nights, the parties extend well past sunset. At 2 a.m., two young men from Long Island, stockbrokers in training, do cannonballs into the water, which is luminous with submarine light, to punctuate an evening of barhopping on Hollywood Boulevard. A couple of lovers ease their way, hand in hand, into the spa. Then all is quiet, and the pool lies still, its blue surface quilted with soft ripples. Of course, not everyone can enjoy this sublime calm. Want to get in? Rent an apartment in the complex, or get invited by someone who's a tenant.
They call Kevin Garnett "The Freak." They say he's in a class by himself. They're right. Nobody in basketball has so much height, shooting touch, quickness, and floor game in one package. But our man Odom can at least light a candle to K.G.'s brilliance. At six-foot-ten, Lamar's got size (including the best set of shoulders in the NBA), good handles, a decent shooting touch, and a high basketball IQ. It all combines to make him a smoother -- though still lesser -- version of the Timberwolves star. L.O. scores 17 a game, grabs 9.6 boards, and averages a little more than four assists. Those numbers betray awesome all-around skills; Lamar should have been named an All-Star. Next year, which figures to be his best season -- after struggles in Los Angeles (with the Clippers) and adjustment to Miami -- he'll almost surely be playing for the East in the midseason classic. But he's got a ways to go before any Garnett comparisons are taken seriously -- seven more points, five more rebounds, and one extra assist a game, to be exact. He'll likely never achieve those, uh,
freakish numbers, but if he can find and keep a competitive fire, the rafters are the limit for what the 24-year-old power forward can do in the game.
Readers' Choice: Dwyane Wade
The weather in South Florida is as extreme as it is unpredictable. Some days, it seems as hot as the surface of Venus. Other days, it's raining so hard that you'd think the ground would never lose its thirst. That spells trouble for local athletes. But there's a solution: Sports Mall. This 75,000-square-foot indoor sports complex in Deerfield Beach offers soccer and roller hockey leagues for children and adults. Adult leagues also include basketball, with young whippersnappers and players old enough to be their grandparents. But Sports Mall offers more than competition. It's also a damned fine place to grab a drink. Set in an island between the soccer and hockey fields is a bar serving beer and sports drinks. If you're not the athletic type, buy yourself a draft and have a seat next to one of the fields. You might be lucky enough to watch a face pancaked against plexiglass inches from your beer.
Marlins fans will spend the season bartering with scalpers to sit in the upper levels of what's really a football stadium. But fans further north know real baseball: Roger Dean Stadium. Here, all 7,000 seats are close enough to catch a foul ball, and the only scalpers will sell you tickets for less than the price of a hot dog. There are two home teams, the Palm Beach Cardinals, a farm team for St. Louis; and the Jupiter Hammerheads, a minor-league team connected to the Marlins. Tickets to the minor-league games are just $7 (not much more than a Bud from Pro Player Stadium), and season tickets run from just $100 to $300. The best seats in the house are straight down the first-base line, where fans can spread a blanket across a tiny grassy hill behind where the pitchers warm up. Big-league players often make rehab trips to Jupiter, so this is where, when A.J. Burnett gets injured again, you can tell him what a bum he is.
If this were New England, we'd be touting the "Best Place to Keep Warm." But it's South Florida, where trying to stay cool is the name of the game nearly year-round. And there are
scores of people down here, all looking for the same relief. Many head for the beach. Just as many, it seems, head for the Rapids Water Park in West Palm Beach. But what's the fun of waiting in line ten minutes for 30 seconds on a waterslide? Especially after you've made yourself at least $26 poorer just getting into the damned place (stupid private parks). At least Palm Beach County's Coconut Cove Water Park doesn't charge $5 just for parking; parking's free, and admission is only $9.25 for adults, $7.25 for children ages 3 to 11, $3 for toddlers, and free for infants. With a 986-foot river ride, a sea monster walk lagoon, two 220-foot waterslides, and a children's water playground, Coconut Cove proves you can beat the heat without having to fight the crowd.
Rocks? In South Florida? Yep. Only 30 miles from downtown West Palm is the only outcropping along the southern Atlantic Coast, in fact. When big-ass waves break along the base of these massive chunks of Anastacia limestone, the salty spray is channeled up through narrow holes leading to the surface. During the highest tides and especially after rough winter weather, the plumes can reach heights of 40 feet or more, hence the park's name. The resultant display is seen by few, especially on weekdays, when visitors may just find large stretches of the ritzy, remote beach all to themselves. The tranquil nooks behind the monolithic stones are home to tidal pools and shells for scavengers and beachcombers. This wild, untamed, and no-frills nature sanctuary (open 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. daily, $3 entry, $37 for annual passes) contains one of the most rugged -- and certainly unique -- beaches in the entire state.
Readers' Choice: Fort Lauderdale Beach, Red Reef Park (tie)
It's a grueling, five-mile hike to the desolate Scrub Jay campsite deep within Jonathan Dickinson State Park, especially when hauling camping gear, but it's well worth your aching back. The campsite is hidden in the sandy uplands, among a sprawling field dotted with slash pines and filled with saw palmetto bushes. Unlike most state park campsites, mashed together like suburban ranch homes, the Scrub Jay sits all alone in this 11,500-acre park. It's big enough for eight campers, and your only neighbors will be the bobcats, eagles, and osprey. During the dry season, the site is far enough away from the Loxahatchee River and its swampy mosquito breeding grounds. The view isn't Grand Canyon-worthy, but the simplicity of the star-filled sky and wide-open prairies, just ten miles from Interstate 95 insanity, makes you realize what drew early settlers to Florida's wilds. The park charges a measly $4 for the site, but call ahead, as this site is well-known to adventurous campers. Unless you plan to boil your own urine, which isn't recommended unless mixed with two parts vodka and one part grenadine, bring iodine tablets for the untreated well water. The park requires campers to begin the journey at least three hours before sunset, but give yourself more time if you don't have a sherpa to carry in the beer.
Sure, lights are important, and this place has 'em. And a perfect surface is a must. Of course, Jefferson Street's are smooth as an air hockey table. And to be in the middle of a neighborhood so you can walk there is vital, as are a couple of practice walls. Yup, they're there, as well as swing sets and a variety of other sly ways to distract the kids while you hone that cannonball serve. But what makes the courts at Jefferson Street really something is a Peruvian expatriate named Max Aracadier, who gives lessons there. The 25-year-old, who arrived three years ago, has students who range in age from 4.5 to 70. His prices are reasonable at $10 to $15 a shot. And he's the nicest, most patient guy you could imagine. "I just love the sport," he says. Readers' Choice: Holiday Park
Take Flagler Drive north through downtown West Palm Beach, past the Northwood neighborhood mansions facing the Intracoastal Waterway, and you'll find three tennis courts with a stunning view. Currie Park's hard courts sit just a lob away from the water, with a view of Palm Beach mansions across the way. The 11-acre park is more known for its five boat ramps, maritime museum, and Martin Luther King Jr. memorial, so the courts sit largely unoccupied. Unlike stretches of the Intracoastal further north, crowded by boats coming to the Port of Palm Beach, you're more likely to see pelicans diving the water here. The few people who've discovered the courts play as massive yachts pass on the smooth stretch of Intracoastal to their Palm Beach homes. While the wind off the water might play havoc with a few backhands, it makes for great air conditioning during a summertime match. While there, dedicate a game to the park's namesake, George Graham Currie, who is so honored after spending 1901-04 as West Palm's mayor. After all, he got his name on a set of tennis courts with one hell of a view.
Full name: Alan "Ollie" Gelfand
Age: 41
Hometown: Hollywood
Claim to fame: Trendsetting skateboard practitioner.
What he's done for us lately: He recently opened Olliewood Skate Park in Hollywood, parlaying his international rep as a skateboarder into a business. This is no ordinary glide jockey. Gelfand is one of the originators of the sport, the inventor 30 years ago of a technique that has become known worldwide as "the ollie." The Oxford English Dictionary recently included ollie -- "a jump executed by pressing the foot down on the tail of the board to rebound the deck off the ground" -- in its OED Online.
What it takes: "A lot of drive. I'm a little bit hyper. Creative people think different from everybody else. When I was little, I wasn't into team sports. I made rules for myself. That's what puts you ahead of the crowd."
Face it, the Panthers aren't looking all that good this year. Most days, their defense is porous, and if they send a puck or two to the back of the net, then it's been a good night. This is why goalie Roberto Luongo is -- without a doubt -- the team's most valuable player. Luongo joined the Panthers in the same trade that netted the team last year's winner, Olli Jokinen. But while Jokinen has had a so-so season, Luongo has been providing stellar performances between the posts night in and night out. If you have any doubts, just check the statistics: Luongo led the league in saves during the regular season with an astonishing 495 more than the number-two goalie. The Panthers scored barely two goals a game this season, yet 17 of the team's wins came with a one-goal margin. Luongo has clearly gained the respect of the rest of the league, as he was chosen by coaches as the Panthers' only delegate to the Eastern All Stars, and his name has been mentioned as a contender for both the Vezina (Best Goaltender) and Hart Memorial (league MVP) trophies. The Panthers' own acrobatic brick wall broke the record for most shutouts by a goalie under the age of 25 two-thirds of the way through the season and should look forward to a long career, hopefully here in South Florida.
The most exciting rookie ever to play for the Miami Heat couldn't get a mention on ESPN if he played with his head on fire. The Big National Media is so fixated on the LeBron and Carmelo hype that it's pretty much missed the emergence of Dwyane Wade, who could become better than both of them. Seriously. Sure, LeBron is LeBrilliant and Carmelo is as delicious a player as his name connotes, and yes, both of them are younger and taller than Little D, but Wade is blessed with something even more special: crazy quickness. He's arguably the quickest player to enter the NBA since Allen Iverson, and he arrived with enough hops to make a truckload of Budweiser. Unlike the Answer, he possesses a very strong body that, after slashing to the paint, can battle the trees underneath. Or so it would seem. Dwyane's been wading -- damn near drowning, really -- in injuries. Therein lies the rub -- at least the one coming from Heat trainers. Wade's incredible effort on the court has brutalized the former Marquette star, causing him to miss nearly a third of the season. But if he can keep healthy, get used to seeing Wade at American Airlines Arena -- and on ESPN highlight reels -- for a lot of years to come.
Last year, during one of those key stretch games against the Phillies at Pro Player Stadium, the Marlins' Miguel Cabrera's face popped up on the scoreboard as he came up to bat. An 8-year-old boy sitting in the stands looked up in sheer wonder. "Look at that! He's just a little kid! He's only 12!" The amazed boy wasn't that far off. Cabrera is 20, but with that baby face, we wonder if he's ever had to shave. But don't let youth fool you -- Cabrera is way beyond his years on the diamond. He can play any nonbattery position, hits with equal parts grace and power (12 HRs and 62 RBI in little more than half a season last year), and batted clean-up in the World Series. In fact, he had one of the greatest at-bats in recent playoffs history when he smacked a ball over the rightfield wall right after aging superstar Roger Clemens, who was supposed to be playing his final game, knocked him down with an inside heater. Expect great things from the Venezuelan Virtuoso this year -- we're venturing 35 HRs and 120 RBI, which wouldn't be too bad for a little kid.
After pitching a gem at the age of 23 to win the World Series in Yankee Stadium, all Marlins' ace Josh Beckett seemed to talk about was his plan to kill deer the next day. He rarely smiled, his answers were gruff, and his demeanor said, "This is no big deal for a stud like me." And all we could think was, "What a spoiled little punk." Maybe being a royal jackass is what he needs to make him great on the mound, but when he reaches the peak of the magical mountain of all of sport, could he at least show a touch of grace or gratitude? Nu-uh. And he's even more unbearable this year, as a March 21 interview session after a spring training game in Fort Myers showed. A reporter asked him about Fox Sports Network babe Leeann Tweeden, his new girlfriend. "Do I have to listen to the same fucking questions again?" he said to the reporter, a friend of ours. Then Beckett said, "I have a big dick." The jerk from Texas looked over at veteran outfielder Gerald Williams. "It's even bigger than Gerald Williams' dick." Now, this might have been crudely amusing if someone else had said it, but coming from Beckett, it was just crude. Memo to Josh: We don't care if you're packing a Louisville Slugger under your cup -- you still gotta grow some class. Ask Garry Maddox or Alex Rodriguez about it. They might be able to show you how.
Before you browse the scuffed-up power tools and stereos inside the store, take note of the running Dolphins commentary on the front windows and doors. Stenciled in block letters on a sun-faded Dolphins helmet poster from 2000: "SUUUCKS!" Stenciled on a poster of the Dolphins 2002 schedule: "SUU-U-CKS." Stenciled diagonally across a lifesized Ricky Williams poster from 2003: "SUU-U-CKS!!" The penetrating critique of the team's prowess may seem voluminous -- overwhelming, even -- but the plain, hand-lettered sign beside the door offers a penetrating summary: "Last year and then this year as the same they SUUUCKS."