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.

Best Reason to Avoid the Marlins Clubhouse

Josh Beckett

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."

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