i’AU- 1
UCLA stuns unbeaten and
top-ranked Stanford, 79-73
by Sam Farmer
Los Angeles Times
February 3, 2001
PALO ALTO, Calif. - Welcome back
to UCLA’s magical mystery tour.
In Saturday’s installment, the
unranked Bruins confounded their
critics once again by knocking off No.
1 and unbeaten Stanford, 79-73, be
fore a stunned crowd of 7,391 at
Maples Pavilion and a national TV
audience.
Yes, these are the same Bruins who
lost by 29 to California less than 48
hours earlier; the same team that fell
to Cal State Northridge this season;
the same team whose coach’s job sta
tus is forever in limbo. Leave it to a
Stanford player to add a dash of
mythological perspective to the cra
ziness.
“They’re a tragic team,” guard
Ryan Mendez said. How can they play
like they did against Cal, then come
in here and play like they did today?”
Obviously, Mendez isn’t a history
major. If he were, he would know that
these Bruins play at their rock-solid
best w'hen everyone thinks they’re on
the verge of collapse. Saturday's vic
tory was merely an encore of last
season’s shocker, when unranked
UCLA rolled into Maples and rubbed
out the No. 1 Cardinal.
With Saturday’s victory, the Bruins
A long, strange trip for Capriati
by Sally Jenkins
The Washington Post
Ask yourself whether you would
like to be held responsible for any
thing, one single solitary thing, that
you did at age 18. The answer is no.
You wouldn’t like to be held respon
sible. Not for the things you said, or
for the things you felt, not for the
things you jumped off of, or for the
things you ran into, not for the things
you hazarded, or the things you held
back. Not even for the things you
That's why the most stirring event
in sports last week wasn’t the Super
Bowl, or the Duke-Carolina game. It
was the Australian Open final won by
Jennifer Capriati, who collected the
first Grand Slam title of her half
wrecked career and instructed us all
in why, sometimes, failure and loss
and can be so much more valuable
than unbroken suc-
known
Capriati for more than
a decade now, and it's
been a strange kind of
intimacy. You’ve
traced the arc of her
life, from wholesome
prodigy to a quarrel
some, nerve-shattered
burnout who dropped
off the tour in 1993
and was arrested for
misdemeanor mari-
juana possession, in
the company of
grungers carrying cocaine and heroin.
In 1994, she entered a rehabilitation
clinic to cure her of God knows what.
She returned to the tennis court in
1996, but played only sporadically
until last season. And then last week
she won the Australian, a full decade
after she was supposed to. By now
you've practically got a picture album
of her.
A retrospective seems only fitting.
Boca Raton, Fla., spring 1990:
She was just 13, making her pro de
but with a lopsided smile and a La
brador quality. She greeted every shot
that came over the net with a bound
ing kind of joy, as if to say, “A ball!"
She wore a gold bracelet that said,
“Love, Chrissie,” from her mentor
Chris Evert, only enhancing her fairy
tale aura. Her parents Stefano and
Denise, a real estate agent and a flight
attendant, respectively, delivered her
to the world with expressions of pride
and bafflement and could only shade
their eyes as she went off the high
dive. “There’s this greatness in her,”
Denise said. In her very first tourna
ment, she made it all the way to the
final. She was wildly promising. How
improved to 13-6 overall, 7-2 in Pa
cific 10 Conference play. Stanford,
which was the nation’s only unde
feated team, dropped to 20-1 and 8-
1.
That UCLA won ensures there will
be plenty of confused top-25 voters
this week. The Bruins haven't been
ranked all season, and their loss to Cal
was an embarrassment. Yet how can
anyone ignore a team that did what
UCLA did Saturday?
“We don’t expect anything from the
top-25 voters,” point guard Earl
Watson said. We beat SC, and we
couldn’t figure out why we weren’t
in the Top 25. But we don’t even care
anymore. Because it only matters if
we win the Pac-10 and get into the
(NCAA) tournament, and do good
things from that point. Don’t give us
any extra credit; just keep giving us
motivation by not voting for us.”
The Bruins love the role of scrappy
underdog, and few players embody
that more than guard Billy Knight,
who learned five minutes before the
game he would be making his fifth
start of the season.
Knight drained a three-point shot
seven seconds into the game, then
never looked back, finishing with
career highs in points (22) and
backslaps in the locker room.
Coach Steve Lavin gave Knight the
nod over Jason Flowers because
far could she go? Ted Tinling, the his
torian and tennis dress designer, said
her future was unlimited “as long as
she doesn’t fall in love with a ball
boy.”
But the pressures were immediate
and overwhelming: Abattery of cam
eras accompanied her as she walked
onto the court for the first time. She
was worth $5 million in endorsement
contracts right out of the gate, al
though she scarcely seemed to know
it initially. “Doesn’t it go in a trust
fund or something?” she said. Her
agent was kiddingly dubbed the
Colonei, after Colonel Tom Parker.
“I think it's kind of out of control,”
the kid said, and everyone laughed -
nervously.
New York, November 1991
By 14, she was the youngest player
ever ranked in the top 10. By 15, she
was a semifinalist at Wimbledon and
“Everybody wants me to take responsi
bility, and I have. But what about their
responsibility?”
the U.S. Open, and she did her home
work by fax. But her hectic playing
and exhibition schedule was already
taking a toll on her. At the year-end
WTA Tour championships at Madi
son Square Garden, she was so tired
she complained of the walk from the
court to the pressroom. “How much
farther is it?” she asked.
Miami, spring 1992:
At 16, she wore black nail polish,
skulls and crosses in her ears, rings
on all of her fingers, and so many
chains that she made kerchinking
noises when she walked. “It’s becom
ing too serious,” she complained, af
ter losing in the quarters of the Aus
tralian Open. She argued publicly
with her father in Tokyo. She was the
sole breadwinner of the family, and
there were rumors that her parents,
who had long since quit their jobs,
were having marital difficulties.
When Stefano was asked if he was
pushing her too hard, he replied: “The
world would have no champions
without parents.”
It only got worse. After a first
round loss at the U.S. Open, Capriati
Knight played so well during the
Bay Area trip last season. Not only
that, but when the Bruins scrim
maged Friday, Knight knocked
down every shot in sight.
“For him to get 22 today, it’s like.
Who is he? Where did he come
from?’” said Watson, who shares an
off-campus apartment with Knight.
But people don’t understand that
(Friday) Billy hit 10 threes in a row.
Dick Vitale had to tap one of his
friends, like, ‘Do you see this kid?’
Billy was just going off.”
Just as important, Knight did a
good job of putting the defensive
clamps on Stanford’s Casey
Jacobsen, who made 4 of 18 shots
from the field and saw his team’s
dream of an undefeated season van
ish.
“I thought we could do it,”
Jacobsen said. Maybe it wasn’t re
alistic. But if any team could have
gone undefeated, it would have been
us.”
Stanford had its chances, clawing
back from a 40-37 halftime deficit
to forge a 55-55 tie on a dunk by
Justin Davis with 10:08 to play. The
Bruins answered with an 11-0 run
during the next three minutes that
quieted the crowd.
The Cardinal had one flurry left,
cutting the lead to 74-71 on a three-
scaled back her tournament sched
ule, and declared her hatred for pub
lic life and the press. “Why does ev
eryone care?” she asked at one point.
“I mean everyone is so wrapped up
in everyone else’s lives. People
think they know what I feel like. I’m
like, ‘Hey man, what do you know?
I don't tell you what’s going on in
your life or how you feel.’”
Miami, December 1993.
Capriati was arrested in a motel
in Coral Gables, Fla., while bingeing
with a group of other teen-agers pos
sessing crack and heroin. Her mug
shot showed a young woman with a
nose ring, eyes as dim as windows
with the shades drawn, and a slack
and uncaring jaw.
Saddlebrook Resort, winter 1996:
After two stints in rehab, with ru
mors of perhaps even more, Stefano
persuaded his
daughter to
-Jennifer Capriati
mors of a
comeback, but she was still angry
and wounded. Stefano and his wife
had long since divorced, and the
family was convinced the relentless
glare of the spotlight had been the
source of their problems..
“You’re the reason we sent her to
Coral Gables, to get away from
people like you, otherwise she
wouldn't have been in that hotel,”
he said to a reporter.
As Capriati gathered her rackets
after a practice session, she said,
“Everybody wants me to take re
sponsibility, and I have. But what
about their responsibility?”
It would be two more years be
fore she appears on tour on a regu
lar basis.
January 2001:
It is Super Bowl Sunday and the
Tampa airport is deserted when
Capriati disembarks from an 18-
hour flight from Australia. Only her
mother, Denise, is waiting for her.
Capriati has skeins of muscle in her
arms and a light in her face. She is
just 24, but it is clear from her de
meanor that she has decided that life
NATIONAL SPORTS
ick u
racket again.
She lost
and
weight
looked more
fit and happy
than she had
since in she
was seventh
grade, and
there was a
real heat in her
grounds trokes.
There were ru-
pointer by Mike McDonald with 48
seconds remaining. But UCLA
clinched the victory at the foul line,
getting two free throws from Matt
Barnes, and one each from Knight,
Watson and Jason Kapono.
In addition to Knight, three other
UCLA starters scored in double fig
ures: Watson (20), Kapono (14) and
Dan Gadzuric (10).
“We showed incredible poise when
Stanford made their runs,” Lavin said.
“We kept our composure and contin
ued to execute. Had some great defen
sive efforts. From the end of the Cal
game, I was really impressed with our
kids' maturity in terms of focusing on
Stanford, putting that game (the 92-
63 loss to Cal) behind us. Learning
from it. but putting it behind us and
moving forward.”
Lavin chalked up the turnaround to
lessons learned. He said his team is
merely progressing as it becomes
more seasoned. But Saturday's Bruins
looked nothing like the team that was
so overmatched two nights earlier.
“Yeah, it’s weird,” Barnes con
ceded. “We lost to the team we should
have beat, and then we come in here
and beat the No. 1 team. Of course,
people are going to look at it as a little
strange. But it happens. It’s an up-and
down season.”
And the next twist, at USC on
Thursday, is anyone’s guess.
is not a matter of unfettered happiness,
and that's fine. The truth is that such a
thing is not only impossible, but prob
ably not even good for you.
At the gate, her mother hugs her. And
then Denise and Stefano, whose ago
nies, one would venture to say, have
been unimaginable, hug too. For the
first time in years.
A few days later, after she has
caught up on her sleep, Capriati re
flected: “Sometimes I think, why have
all these things happened to me, why
is my life like this, you know? But I
wouldn’t trade it because it is inter
esting. ... I am glad not just to have
this boring, ordinary life.”
She is glad, because she under
stands that there are certain inevita
bilities. You will grow older. You will
be forced to compromise in ways you
never imagined and confront prob
lems you thought you were immune
from. You will find a job, and perhaps
lose it. You will fight with your mate,
shoulder unwanted responsibilities,
and cope with rank unfairness. You
can allow that to demoralize you. Or
you can let it shape you. To paraphrase
C.S. Lewis, maybe pain really is God's
way of making us more perfect.
What happened to Jennifer Capriati
was only life.
As if the league didn't have enough publicity
by Mai Floreince
Los Angeles Times
February 7, 2001
The debut of the XFL was certainly
not ignored by a majority of our nation’s
sports columnists, many of whom seem
personally offended by the gimmicky
new league. A sampling:
Dave Kindred in the Sporting News:
“With all due disrespect, the XFL is the
trashiest creation in legitimate-sports
history.”
“It’s brilliant marketing of the sort re
marked upon by RT. Bamum, who said,
‘There’s a sucker bom every minute,’
and by Henry L. Mencken, who said,
‘No one ever went broke underestimat
ing the intelligence of the American pub
lic.’”
More outraged was Phil Mushnick of
the New York Post, who wrote: “For
however much longer the XFL has,
there’s really only one scorecard worth
keeping.
“It’s the one that notes all the sellouts
who lent their names, careers, reputa
tions and consciences to this predictably
unmitigated piece of garbage.”
Tim Kawakami of the San Jose Mer
cury News had a ho-hum take on the new
league:
“Not as scripted as feared, not as gritty
A spectacle for
generation XFL
by Angus Phillips
The Washington Post
February 4,2001
ORLANDO, Fla. - They played some
pretty good pro football Saturday on
opening day of the hyped and her
alded XFL, with lots of scoring, pow
erful hits, bouncy cheerleaders, fire
works after each home score and a full
house - sort of. The Rage beat the vis
iting Chicago Enforcers, 33-29, in a
chilly drizzle and from the beer-bleary
look of fans when it was over, most
went home happy, including Jeff
Camine, who will be back.
And why not? Carnine bought
prime, five-game Rage season tick
ets lOtows back from the 40-yard line
for $lBO apiece, including parking.
“Cheap investment,” said Camine, 24,
who’s at the top end of the XFL tar
get audience of 12- to 24-year-old
males. “If this turns out to be as hot
asl think, I’m first in line next year.”
Why the XFL? “It’s old-style foot
ball like in the *sos and ‘6os,” said
Carmine, a software company em
ployee and ex-Cowboys fan. “The
NFL is too passive. Too much kick
ing, too much protecting the quarter
back, too many rules. This opens it
up. Sexy cheerleaders, fights - it's all
encouraged It’s the polidcally incor
rect vs. the politically correct.”
That much he divined before kick
off. Afterward, Camine was swept
away in a mob of 36,000 who greeted
the XFL by filling “every available
seat” at the Citrus Bowl (league offi
cials left the upper deck empty to keep
the experience “intimate.”)
And what a nice, intimate crowd it
turned out to be. “Worst I’ve ever
seen,” said a weary cop as he made
his way out after midnight. “Fights,
people throwing bottles and stuff. We
must have kicked out 100 people "
A cameraman from a Gainesville
TV station concurred. “It seemed like
every time I panned the crowd from
the field,” he said, “it was hither
women pulling up their shirts or guys
fighting.”
Oh, well, the XFL is the brainchild
of World Wrestling Federation chief
Vince McMahon, who didn’t get rich
overestimating the intelligence of his
audience, and NBC. McMahon’s
“family has been putting on a heck of
a show for years,” said red-bearded
Jed Clampette of Tampa, who.
clutched a beer as he waited in the rain
for the last tickets to go on sale. “He’ll
put one on here, too. It’s going to be a
lot more like football than what we
saw in the Super Bowl.”
The Rage recorded its first serious
injury before the kickoff - in the coin
toss!
Under XFL rules, that musty old
NFL tradition at the 50-yard line is
replaced by a mad dash. Two players
line up at the 30-yard line, the ball sits
on the 50, someone shouts “go” and
whoever grabs it and hangs on wins
as promised, not as interesting as hyped,
and not as outrageous or (gulp) revolu
tionary as most of us sports-TV critics
assumed and awaited.... A bauble. A fun
thing, easily discarded.”
Caryn James, writing in the arts sec
tion of the New York Times, said: “Pre
senting ‘The West Wing’ and the XFL
means that NBC now has the smartest
and dumbest shows on network televi-
Trivia time: What was significant
about the UCLA men’s basketball team’s
42-37 overtime win over USC in 1943?
You complain too: Maryland basket
ball Coach Gary Williams, annoyed at
the relentless criticism of Terrapin fans
after their behavior following a devas
tating loss to Duke on Jan. 27:
“They’re great fans. This is overkill,
what’s going on right now. Everybody
should shut up. I think this is being made
into something because this is Duke and
Duke complains.”
No hero: Michael Bauman of the Mil
waukee Journal Sentinel on the state
ment by Mark Chmura’s attorney, Gerald
Boyle, that Chmura showed courage
usually displayed by those who win the
Medal of Honor:
“Some of us thought that the medal
was awarded to people such as Sgt. Alvin
York, who charged a machine-gun nest.
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 2001
the right to receive the kickoff.
Some fun, eh? Tell that to Hassan
Shamsid-Deen, the speedy defensive
back who ran for the Rage. First he
lost the race to the Enforcers’ Troy
Saunders, then when the ball squiffed
free and he pounced, he lost use of
his left shoulder for a couple of
weeks, dislocating it in the scramble.
“That’s the concern we all had,”
Rage Ctoach Galen Hall said. “Hope
fully, the league will iook at this and
find something else.”
“Next time we’re just going to let the
other team have it,” said Rage wide
receiver Mario Bailey, the all-time
leading pass catcher in NFL Europe.
“It’s not worth it to lose a guy like
that.”
The game lured several NFL
scouts, including one from the East
Coast who declined to give his name.
He offered this halftime assessment:
“A lot of guys here could play in
the NFLright n0w.... There’s plenty
of taleht”
The Rage showed that on the first
play from scrimmage. Quarterback
Jeff Brohm, who spent six years as a
backup in the NFL, lofted a long,
soft, arcing pass to Kevin Swayne, a
refugee from Arena Football, who
blasted past the defense for a5l -yard
touchdown.
The play highlighted another
XFL-only rule. It allows one
backfield player to launch full speed
before the snap, Swayne, 6 feet 2 and
195 pounds, passed defen
sive backs before their mouthguards
were in.
Fireworks erupted at the score,
cheerleaders danced lasciviously and
(be XFL was up, up and away.
Cheerleader Nina Oh, an aspiring
singer, said she has worked with the
New England Patriots, Orlando
Magic and Denver Nuggets. “This is
the first time it’s been for more than
just gas money. I graduated to the
XFL.... We‘t» getting decent pay and
we're respected pot just forour bod
ies but for our minus.” * r
Back on the field, play was
dominated by the Rage except for
one unstoppable Enforcer, 5-9,190-
pound running back John Avery, who
ran up an impressive 157 yards on
the ground and 93 on pass receptions
and scored two touchdowns.
Avery, a 25-year-old first-round
draft pick of the Miami Dolphins
who played two years in the NFL
before being cut by the Broncos, said
he enjoyed everything about the
game except for the fans peppering
him with chicken bones.
Avery called the XFL “a blessing
for a lot of guys with a lot of abil
ity,” adding, “I belong in football."
He admitted he had doubts, in light
of the XFL’s connections to TV wres
tling. “But I figured if Little Debbie
owned the team, that doesn’t mean
we all have to eat TWinkies
The medal is not typically awarded to
someone who charges into a hot tub with
booze and adolescent girls.”
No decision: Mike Tyson was report
edly wrestling with one of his pet tigers
when it pinned him to the ground. “The
tiger’s foot was on his head,” a source
told the New York Post. “He had to pet
it for three or four hours before it got
off him.”
Wardrobe dilemma: Minnesota Wild
defenseman Brad Bombardir, explain
ing why he has worn his New Jersey
Devils’ Stanley Cup ring only twice:
“It’s pretty hard to go out in a shirt and
jeans and a $40,000 ring.”
Trivia answer: It ended a 42-game
Trojan winning streak over the Bruins
that began in 1932.
And finally: Former Dallas Cowboy
wide receiver Drew Pearson is the vice
president and general manager of the
XFL’s New York/New Jersey Hitmen.
During a practice session, says Tom
Rock of Newsday, “He stands on the
edge of the field, wearing a suit and a
cell phone, waiting.
“Every so often a player will run past
him and Pearson will lower his shoul
der and slam into the player. Then, he’ll
stand up, unwrinkle his suit, and return
to his telephone conversation.”