Cheap Seats

Get them where it hurts

Skip Bayless of the Chicago Tribune, ripping Bears owner Mike McCaskey and Blackhawks owner Bill Wirtz:

“The Bears and Hawks keep selling history with no real urgency to make any. The only sure way to motivate McCaskey or Wirtz is to quit buying tickets and to quit listening to or watching games. Hit ‘em below the money belt.”

Send all of these fans to training camp

Coach Dan Reeves was looking forward to the Atlanta Falcons’ first sellout crowd last Sunday against the San Francisco 49ers - the first sellout in more than three years. But he was a little worried.

“We’re excited to have the sellout,” he said. “It’s not only having a crowd there, but having a knowledgeable crowd. If they can remember not to do the wave when we’re on offense, that would be good.”

No Master on the court

Master P, a rapper draped in diamonds and gold who has made $57 million this year with the help of hits that topped the singles charts, made his debut in Hartford, Conn., Friday night as No. 30, a guard for Indiana’s Fort Wayne Fury of the Continental Basketball Association.

The Fury is paying $1,000 a week to the man who placed 10th this fall on Forbes magazine’s list of the year’s highest-paid entertainers, ahead of the Spice Girls, Eddie Murphy and Leonardo DiCaprio.

Of the 2,808 fans at the game against the Connecticut Pride, maybe a few hundred were hip to Master P. Among most of them, the great game was to figure out which of the tall guys in red and black shorts and nameless jerseys was “P,” as he is known. The program used only his real name, Percy Miller.

“He should give away CDs, so people will know who he is,” said country music fan Tom Nevins, 35.

Master P’s official biography - he travels with three publicists - describes him as an “actor, director, film and record producer, the reigning king of reality rap and entrepreneur extraordinaire.” But as Master P tells it, he’s not after adulation in the seats, but rather respect on the court.

Well, he has a way to go. In Friday’s game, he saw 8 minutes of action. At 6-foot-4 and 195 pounds, he proved to be an aggressive but clumsy player, fouling three times in his first 2 minutes, 12 seconds. He committed three turnovers with double dribbles and errant passes. He scored one point and had one rebound.

He kept a clear head

The Orange County Register relates this story about “Little Ralphie” Valladares, a Los Angeles Thunderbirds roller derby star of the 1960s and 70s, who died last week at 62 of liver cancer.

The great romance of Valladares’ life also was a teammate. He and Gloria “Honey” Sanchez were married twice, each time on March 17.

They also divorced twice.

But even in Valladares’ final days, Honey Sanchez spent a lot of time with her ex.

So when son-in-law Dave Martinez jokingly asked Valladares if the family should set aside next March 17, Valladares responded with a joke of his own:

“I’m losing my liver, Dave, not my mind.”

The last word …

”(He) could make the right side of the infield as impenetrable as an hour of C-SPAN.”

- Steve Hummer of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution on Bret Boone, the Braves’ new second baseman.