Columnist Ron Kantowski: Happy hour in the press box

Tuesday, July 16, 2002 | 9:01 a.m.

Ron Kantowski's insider notes column appears Tuesday and his Page One column appears Thursday. He can be reached at ron@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4088.

One of the mantras of sports writing is "there's no cheering in the press box."

Usually, there's no drinking, either.

But that wasn't the case at Sunday's pro soccer exhibition at Sam Boyd Stadium featuring Mexican club teams Chivas and Atlas. According to at least a couple of credential-toting media types -- the only two who appeared to be working, by the way -- it was as if they opened a microbrewery in the press box just before kickoff.

The game was sponsored by Coors Light, and you didn't have to take the public address announcer's word for it. All you had to do was look up at the press box, where empty plastic bottles were piled high on laptop computers.

In fact, there was so much drinking and carrying on in the press area that a Sun photographer who seldom uses the facility thought he had stumbled into one of the luxury suites by accident.

The press box tavern needs to be relocated in the event pro soccer becomes a semi-regular occurrence at Sam Boyd, a possibility being explored by various movers and shakers. One veteran observer called Sunday's game the "worst organized" sporting event he had attended.

The scalding temperature notwithstanding, that may explain why only 4,300 spectators showed up. During the recent World Cup, nearly twice that many turned out during the middle of the night at the Orleans to watch Mexico play the United States on TV.

Of course, that was free. Tickets for Sunday's game cost $38 at the gate. At that price, you might have thought Pele was playing.

While the Mexican fans proved you don't need a scorecard to tell the players apart, for $38 they deserved one. But there were none.

As much as I would like to see pro soccer maintain a presence here, it needs to be better organized next time.

And a field sobriety test certainly wouldn't hurt.

Richard Lefebvre, who stands 5-foot-6 and weighs just 135 pounds, digested 24 1/2 all-beef franks in 12 minutes to set a Nevada record. At least that's what he claims, and who am I to argue? Last weekend, I couldn't finish two chili cheese dogs at the local Wienerschnitzel.

Lefebvre, a retired accountant who said he once polished off two 72-oz Porterhouses at a single sitting, also has been known to knock back 24 full-sized pancakes at the Sunset Station coffee house.

Maybe he was the guy in front of me at White Castle during the Indy 500 a few years ago who ordered 96 hamburgers.

"Don't you want a small coke with that?" deadpanned the pimply-faced kid working the register.

Still one of my all-time favorite lines.

And finally, the best part of the British Open is those pot bunkers, but don't say that too loud around Al Unser Jr. According to his former racecar transport driver, the two-time Indy 500 champ who has a part-time residence in Henderson smoked marijuana as often as he did his tires during his fall from auto racing grace.