OK, one last thing regarding last week's Masters Tournament. Several friends, and maybe even a stranger or two, have suggested that it was Kenny Perry's last chance to win a major and he blew it.

I just want to make sure I'm on record somewhere (and this is as good a place as any) saying Perry will contend for another major this year -- most likely either the U.S. Open or PGA Championship. Not so sure about his chances in the British, though he had three straight good finishes there rather recently.

Yes, he turns 49 in August, and most golfers have slipped well before that age. So, in terms of keeping up with Tiger and Lefty and the rest, he's playing on borrowed time. One day he'll wake up old, sooner rather than later. But unless a hip or shoulder starts aching in the next few months, he'll have another shot. Maybe two.

There, I feel better. Of course, if it doesn't happen, I'll eventually have this item ushered out of cyberspace and into a black hole.

 

Photo credit: Associated Press. Kenny Perry's chip shot to the 18th green misses the cup during the final round of The Masters.  

 In other news:

* Study indicates you shouldn't stare at the sun.

Unless you've never thumbed your way up the dial with your TV remote and stumbled past one of the ESPN offerings, it's physically impossible to watch less college basketball than I've watched this season.

However, it's downright un-American to avoid shelling out a few bucks on the office NCAA Tournament pool. And that's why I'm going to give you the best financial advice you've received ever since that day . . . oh, about a year ago . . . that your Uncle Ed told you to cash out and bury it all in the back yard.

 

In last Saturday's "Great Debate" (the weekly News-Journal feature where I overpower the haplessly outgunned Randy Rorrer), the topic was the World Baseball Classic, the every-three-years international tournament, featuring 16 national teams, currently being played.

Occasionally in these debates, one of us has to take a side with which we might agree with 100 percent. This, however, was NOT one of those times. I love the WBC. In fact, Sunday night, I actually caught myself giving a fist pump when the USA's Mark DeRosa tripled to right-center to help "us" beat Venezuela.

Pulling for the Yanks (not the Steinbrenner Yanks, but "our" Yanks) was only part of the fun. We all know that one of the best parts of being a sports fan isn't necessarily pulling for your team to win, but pulling AGAINST certain teams to lose. The WBC offers us that added enjoyment.

 

By KEN WILLIS

MY TWO CENTS

DAYTONA BEACH -- Atop the Fan Deck in the Daytona garage area, so many folks in so many shades of NASCAR adornment -- Jimmie blue, Junior green, Gordon rainbow -- had little if any idea who they were watching pass through the tri-oval.

That they were watching, however, was a welcome development. Never has a racing season been so needed, it seems.

NASCAR fans, in particular, are a needy bunch. Only natural, I guess, to need a constant fix after 10 straight months of daily updates, punctuated weekly by main-event theater in Pocono, Charlotte, Talladega, etc.

It's been a bad few months for the Boys from Macon and all their fellow riders along the racin' trail. First, there was a rather uneventful championship chase last November, followed by the usual December lull and then . . . nothing.

The worst fall-out from eliminating the usual January testing here was the news void. Well, not entirely: There was news, all right, but nearly all of it bad. Drivers looking for teams, teams looking for money, fans looking for something, anything, to either cheer them up (their guy testing well at Daytona) or tick them off (their guy missing about 20 horsepower).

Meanwhile, the bad news mounted here and in the real world, and by the time NASCAR Speed Weeks arrives, those who aren't shell-shocked will still be confused about which driver is now in which car, and why.

But on this Saturday night, the cars were loud, the weather was perfect and, finally, fans were wandering around a racetrack in a good mood. The race season is under way, and for the followers, not a moment too soon.

Lee White has been peppered with the line of questioning so much in recent weeks, he was tempted to walk away when approached Saturday with the question: "Guess what I want to talk to you about?"

"Hopefully not the economy," said White, head of Toyota Racing Development.

"Every manufacturer is facing challenges, and us just as much as everyone else," he said. "I think what you're going to see from all the manufacturers, the last thing to be affected will be cars on the racetrack. That doesn't mean there aren't efforts being made there by everyone, but you're trying to do it in a way that impacts the on-track product least."

But as he talked, the Rolex 24 -- as well as the 2009 race calendar -- was minutes old. White was more than happy to turn away from nuts-and-bolts questions and consider the good psychological vibes flowing from all that noise on the track.

"I think it's paramount," he said. "Frankly, (bad news) is all we've heard about, to the point we're like, 'Oh gee, not that question again. For God's sake, give it a rest, let's go racing.' I think it'll help everybody. I think it'll help the fans -- the world isn't coming to an end, race cars are going around the track. I hope they come out in droves, take a break.

"Look around at the infield here. It's like the biggest crowd I've ever seen here. Go explain that."

Sportscar legend Brian Redman, grand marshal for this year's Rolex 24, has seen it all before, in differing forms. He remembers the entire Rolex being canceled in 1974 in symbolic reaction to the nation's fuel crisis.

"I don't think we've ever seen a recession of this type before. It's so widespread," Redman said. "But still, there are enough people with enough money for racing to carry on. And in the past, it has carried on. There was a drop in the number of people, but it carried on. Things will be affected, but it will carry on."

 

The rotator cuff is getting a little sore, but I can't resist patting myself on the back again. 

It really wasn't that tough of a call, but I was right about the "Fan Fest" at Daytona International Speedway this past weekend. Not a Sprint Cup race car in sight, and fans still flocked to the track, then plunked down $15 per ticket, just to get a glimpse of their favorite driver(s) -- and, of course, maybe the all-important autograph and photo.

Firmly pulling my "Man of the People" cap down low over my chilly ears, I waded into the sea of civilians and asked why it was so important to visit the track for such a non-event.

I guess we get to test my theory this weekend.

I've come to believe that the appeal of NASCAR over the past decade is more about celebrity than competition. I tend to think that many of the new fans (you know . . . your mom, your sister, the uncle who never really cared for any sport at all) would rather watch Junior Earnhardt comb his hair than watch a race that didn't involve Junior Earnhardt.

Now the test of my theory. I suspect there'll be a pretty big crowd at the speedway this Friday and Saturday for the two-day "FanFest" event. Normally, these things are planned around the NASCAR testing schedule, but since NASCAR "banned" testing for the time being, the on-stage interviews and accompanying autograph sessions are stand-alone events.

The racing, for a lot of folks, is secondary. It's all about the personalities: Who you like, who you hate, etc.

That's why they'll show up in the same numbers as they do during a normal testing week. And I'll feel so smart, no one will be able to live with me.

But on the off-chance I'm wrong, I reserve the right to blame the cold weather.

Check out the events of FanFest here.

I wish I had a dollar for every time I've heard the question: "Who's gonna win?"

You hear it during Super Bowl week, maybe leading up to the World Series, or, back when boxing mattered, in the days leading up to a title fight.

This past week, that question has been targeted on the national championship game between Florida and Oklahoma.

"Who ya like?"

"Whaddaya think?"

I guess it's a natural reaction when you run into a guy whose job -- in theory -- involves having an idea of who's going to win a certain game.

My favorite natural reaction involves the weather. How many times have you witnessed a sudden downpour and heard some variation of the following phrase: "Well, we sure could use it."

I always feel like saying, "Geez, I just poured a concrete porch; I sure can't use it."

Honestly, except in the worst of monsoon seasons, have you ever come in out of rainstorm and not heard someone mention how much we needed it? Well, the past week, I don't think I've run into anyone who didn't want to know who's gonna win the Gators-Sooners game. As if anyone really knows. At least with rain, you have Ol' Man Doppler for guidance. Who's gonna help us with the football game -- Lee Corso?

So, unless you're totally out of conversational ideas, move on to another topic.

And, by the way, Florida by about 12.

See Dalhausser gallery

Remember the scene in "The Natural" when Robert Duval first saw Roy Hobbs throw a fastball past "The Whammer"?

I pictured that scene Monday when Shawn Levoy described Philip Dalhausser's maiden voyage onto the Mainland High volleyball court a decade ago. Levoy was among the locals behind the Hilton on Monday for the second of two ceremonies honoring Dalhausser, the beach-volleyball gold medalist who now lives in California. He told the story of convincing Dalhausser to come out for the Bucs volleyball team for his senior season in 1997-98.

"At the time, he was playing tennis; I was the captain of the volleyball team," said Levoy. "We were best friends, and that was the only thing we didn't have in common. Our volleyball coach told me to find us another front-line player; we needed another player."

So Dalhausser, 6-foot-6 at the time (he later grew to 6-9) came out to his first preseason practice. The first time someone set him a ball near the top of the net, he spiked it so hard it hit the floor on the opposite side of the net and caromed all the way into the gym's rafters.

"He just crushed it, like nobody had ever hit a ball before," remembers Levoy. "It was the first time he'd ever hit a ball. He had all the talent in the world. It was just a matter of getting to that next level. Obviously I didn't know he'd be the best player in the world, but I knew he would be a pro from the first time he hit that ball in the gym."


If you missed that scene: