Columnist Ron Kantowski: ESPYs are like a bowling banquet — with tuxes

Tuesday, Feb. 15, 2000 | 10:26 a.m.

Ron Kantowski's notes column appears Tuesday and Thursday. Reach him at ron@vegas.com or 259-4088.

I bit my lip when it forced the WNBA down our throats and ranked a racehorse ahead of Mickey Mantle on its list of top 50 athletes of the 20th century, and changed the channel when a bunch of tattooed guys with pierced nipples went sidewalk surfing for beaucoup dollars during the aptly named X-Games.

But now there can be no doubt that ESPN is getting a little too full of itself.

I was listening to the radio in my truck that is stuck on 920-AM -- now known as ESPN Radio, wouldn't you know it -- when Dan Patrick came on to say that in addition to a plate of barbecue ribs at T.G.I. Friday's and an ice cold Coors I just had to buy a ticket for Monday's ESPY Awards at the MGM Grand Garden, because it is "the biggest night in sports."

So when did they cancel the Super Bowl and the NCAA men's basketball tournament championship game?

Oh, I nearly forgot. Neither one is on ESPN.

Even if the all-sports network insists on shoving the ESPY Awards down our throats, through our chest cavity and into our large intestine, it will never be the biggest night in sports (although it was nice to see the Columbine High coach who was gunned down by those lunatic students feted for his courage).

Using the lowest common denominator, the ESPY Awards are like a bowling banquet. Almost everybody gets a trophy and says a few words at the podium.

Only the recipients dress a lot nicer (except for supermodel Tyra Banks, who wore her underwear) and arrive in limousines instead of Chevy Impalas.

* REMEMBERING TONY B: Fate dealt the auto racing Bettenhausen family another cruel blow Monday when Tony Jr., the youngest of the late Tony Bettenhausen's three racing sons, was killed in a plane crash in Kentucky.

Tony B., as he was affectionately known at the track, enjoyed limited success as a driver but excelled as a team owner, keeping his under-financed Championship Auto Racing Teams (CART) race team solvent and mostly competitive for nearly 15 years. He had a nice little run with Formula One veteran Stefan Johansson behind the wheel and in recent years, gave up-and-coming drivers such as Helio Castro Neves and Las Vegan Patrick Carpentier their start in the high-tech world of champ-car racing.

I once had the pleasure of sitting at Bettenhausen's table during a Gallagher show, of all things, during the last Caesars Palace Grand Prix weekend in 1984. I brought up the inaugural Michigan 500 in 1981, where Bettenhausen drove an ancient McLaren that was headed for a museum to a second-place finish.

He seemed delighted that somebody recalled that race and we chatted like old friends.

His death was just the latest tragedy that has hounded his family.

Patriarch Tony Sr., one of the most popular drivers to ever turn a wheel at the Indianapolis 500, was killed at the venerable Brickyard in 1961 while shaking down a car for another driver.

Eldest son Gary dominated the 1972 Indy 500 while driving for Roger Penske before being sidelined by mechanical gremlins just a few laps from the finish. Gary B. later suffered a racing accident that rendered his left arm useless and he was never the same driver.

Penske fired him when he was still laid up in the hospital. After years of trying, Gary Bettenhausen finally gave up trying to win the one race -- the 500 -- that had eluded his famous father.

Unlike his siblings, Merle Bettenhausen, the middle son, never raced at Indy. He lost his right arm in a grinding crash at Michigan in the 1970s.

Somebody, somewhere, owes one to the Bettenhausen family.

* RUNNING IN CIRCLES: After watching Sunday's Bud Shootout at Daytona, it became clear that Las Vegas Motor Speedway needs to do one of two things to make its Winston Cup race more exciting:

It should A) add another mile to the 1 1/2 that comprise the oval or B) subtract about a mile from what's already out there.

On big tracks such as Daytona, the stock cars are outfitted with carburetor "restrictor plates" to curb speeds. That necessitates the cars draft tail-to-nose in crowd-pleasing "freight trains," which make the drivers' wives nervous, but are the only way you can pass when virtually all the cars are running the same speed.

On small tracks such as the one in Bristol, Tenn., about the only way to improve your position is to literally bang your way past the next guy. Trading paint is also fun to watch.

On the contrary, long, single-file processions on a track such as LVMS, which is neither big nor short, are not fun to watch. They're like watching paint dry.

* AROUND THE HORN: Never thought I would be writing this, but if the season ended today, Bill Bayno probably would be named the Mountain West Conference coach of the year. After all, he's still undefeated in conference play. Assistant coach Glynn Cyprien was the man in charge against BYU on Jan. 10 when Bayno served a one-game suspension for missing a mandatory coaches meeting on MWC media day here. ... I guess the "tools of ignorance" include an official's whistle. Former Atlanta Braves catcher Bruce Benedict made his debut as a Southeast Conference basketball official during Saturday's Arkansas-Mississippi State game. ... Florida Atlantic, which will provide the butt for a butt-kicking with UNLV here next week, is now 0-22 under former Rebel standout Sidney Green, who once had the audacity to complain when he wasn't given serious consideration for the UN LV head job that went to Bayno.