Columnist Dean Juipe: City, county habitually hamper race

Dean Juipe

Friday, Jan. 31, 2003 | 10:03 a.m.

Dean Juipe's column appears Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. His boxing notebook appears Thursday. Reach him at juipe@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4084.

Ordinarily, a gathering of 8,400 men and women would create quite a commotion, and -- short of a war-like situation where silence is essential -- it wouldn't be able to sneak up on anything, anywhere.

But there's nothing typical about the Las Vegas International Marathon, which will be run for the 37th time Sunday. For despite its record field, the race that begins just South of Jean and concludes at Sunset Park is leading a quiet existence that belies the excitement it generates.

It's in the unique position of expanding at a time when it also has had to contract.

Longtime readers already know how I feel: Of all the sporting events in Las Vegas, none has a greater potential to benefit the city and bolster its reputation as a tourist mecca than this annual 26.2-mile run. And, regretfully, none is treated anywhere near as poorly as the Marathon and its incredibly resilient director, Al Boka.

It's as if city and county officials have a vendetta against Boka, who has to plead, beg and attempt to pry a little cooperation from those elected to public office. Or maybe it's simply a case of those same officials having their heads stuck in the debilitating sand.

Either way, they're missing the boat with this race and what it could do for Las Vegas.

"If anything, I get more and more harassed by them every year," Boka said Thursday, mentioning that it wasn't until just this week that the county OK'd the permit that will allow the race to be run on its customary course.

Boka, 63, doesn't need this headache and doesn't merit this type of abuse. With everything he does for the community's betterment, the governmental agencies in the valley should be welcoming the Marathon and seeing it for what it is: a splendid, if still somewhat unrealized, showcase for the city.

Setting aside the notion that the race should be run down the Strip -- which is so obvious that it's embarrassing that Oscar Goodman hasn't picked up the baton and led the crusade -- and be available on worldwide TV, is the fact that Boka is a one-man tourism bureau. Marathon runners tend to be relatively affluent as a group, and with an average four-day stay in Las Vegas they'll drop an estimated $12 million into the city's coffers this weekend.

You would think any number of entities, from governmental to private to the Las Vegas Convention & Visitors Authority, would be grateful. But, instead, the race is shunned at a time when the LVCVA is setting aside $58 million for a marketing campaign.

"Just let me have $50,000 of that," Boka exclaims, knowing the race can attract even greater numbers and ancillary income for the city.

But this year, like last, the race will be run with zero prize money and very little in the way of corporate support. The MGM donates a few rooms and Nike some T-shirts and stuff, but that's about it.

Boka has a scrimpy budget from which he makes token payments to groups, such as the Girl Scouts and representatives from local high schools, who "volunteer" their services. He's also trying to set aside minimal payments to the race winners, such as $1,000 to the male and female champions and $500 to the wheelchair victor.

But that's patently insufficient.

"Since we don't have any support, we've had to cut back on a few things," Boka said, a prerequisite such as a legitimate publicist being among the services that have been canceled. "In years past, we've had sponsors that have given $20,000 or so, but we've lost them and that keeps us from attracting (runners) that would give us much more respect. Elite runners want room comps (and purse guarantees) and things like that, but we're not in a position to do it.

"It's a big struggle to make ends meet. We don't have any money to play around with and we have tremendous logistical concerns and expenses."

And yet Boka, for all the hardships he has encountered in his 20 years of managing the Marathon, remains fairly optimistic. Asked if the race would succumb on the day he decides to retire or get out of it, he said he thought a successor -- perhaps his son -- could be found.

"But I hope that doesn't happen too soon," he said, indirectly committing to the task for any number of future years.

"Maybe there are a lot of things we're unable to do without a cash sponsor and without complete support, but the race we're going to have this year is going to be our largest and maybe best one ever," he added.

Just think, though, of how great this thing could be. Just think what it would be like if those 8,400 people weren't sneaking up on a starting line spray painted across some lightly traveled road in the middle of the desert.