Columnist Ron Kantowski: Track’s deal with NASCAR won’t collapse

Tuesday, May 23, 2000 | 10:14 a.m.

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

Last year, the folks at Lowe's Motor Speedway had a knee-jerk reaction by ending their relationship with the Indy Racing League, after three spectators were killed when a tire flew off a car and cut a deadly path through the grandstands.

But don't expect a similar response now that more than 100 people have been injured -- including three critically -- as a result of a pedestrian bridge toppling as fans were leaving The Winston, NASCAR's annual "all-star" race, on Saturday night.

In that its IRL crowds were on the small side, it was easy to make the politically righteous move and dump the IRL in the aftermath of the tragedy. But unless Dale Earnhardt drives his Goodwrench Chevy through a crowded concourse picking off fans in the beer line, race fans needn't worry about the availability of NASCAR racing at Charlotte.

Call it hypocritical or just good business. But that cash cow will never be put out to pasture.

The bridge that collapsed looked an awful lot like the people movers spanning Flamingo and Tropicana on the Strip. With the busy Memorial Day weekend almost upon us, it might behoove the county engineering department to send out a man -- preferably one built like William Conrad -- to jump up and down on them a few times before the big crowds arrive.

All three times, our call was automatically switched to a feed of KRLV's current programming.

Which in itself may explain a few things.

Ryan "Little Unit" Anderson, the 6-foot-10 pitcher who already is invoking comparisons to similarly sized Randy "Big Unit" Johnson, may have a comparable fastball. But he hasn't yet mastered the professionalism of the Arizona Diamondbacks' flame thrower.

The only heat Anderson threw at Cashman Field last week was verbal blasts at reporters. After getting lit up like Bob Hope's birthday cake by the Las Vegas Stars, the 20-year-old Anderson dissed reporters who approached him in the Tacoma locker room.

So just when you thought there was a reason to attend a triple-A game other than a fireworks extravaganza or a free refrigerator magnet, Anderson provided fans with yet another reason to stay home.

Maybe I'm just partial to Brickhouse because that's who I grew up with (for the record my old man was anti-Brickhouse, going so far as to turn down the volume on the TV broadcast and tune in Vince Lloyd and Lou Boudreau on the radio instead).

But as I was nodding off on the couch during the ESPN Classic rebroadcast of the Phillies' 24-23 victory over the Cubs in 1979 with Brickhouse sharing some anecdote that probably was irrelevant to the proceedings, I swear I could almost smell Lake Michigan and hear a screen door slam in the background.

Other than being reminded of Brickhouse's inimitable style -- when was the last time you heard a representative of the new crop of baseball broadcasters recite the count prior to every pitch? -- the most noteworthy thing about the '79 game was that roughly seven players in both starting lineups choked up on the bat handle.

When the count went to 0-2, even Dave Kingman slid his fists about an inch toward the trademark on that big log he used to swing.

Chicks may dig the long ball, but back then, managers apparently dug singles. Or making contact and moving the runners along.

He should send a percentage to Jerry Tarkanian and Larry Johnson -- or at least their charities -- because those are the guys responsible for keeping Bayno outfitted in Air Jordans and snazzy warm-up gear.

But the ones who really should be miffed are UNLV professors. Until the free money stops flying around or the profs are compensated for choosing textbook companies or No. 2 pencil manufacturers, they'll probably continue to question their choice of vocation.