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After naming third baseman Mike Lowell player of the year in their minor league system for 1997, New York Yankees muckety-mucks traded him to the Marlins before the 1999 season. The Cuban-American righty repaid the team by smacking a grand-slam home run last August 9, one of a record five grand slams he and his teammates hit in that game. Lowell, who graduated from Coral Gables High School and Florida International University, has power, speed, and style. And he has guts. He sat out two months last year with testicular cancer and won the Tony Conigliaro Award for overcoming adversity. This spring he came roaring back, batting .300 and leading the team to a better start than anyone expected.
What quarterback Ken Dorsey says about senior wide receiver Santana Moss: "Santana is one of the greatest athletes around, and as a quarterback, it's nice to know he's out there. He can jump, run, catch, and he ignites the team. If you throw anywhere near him, he'll go up and do anything he can to come down with the ball. It takes a great play by the guy guarding him to stop him." What a guy guarding him says about Santana Moss: "Moss is real good," admits Syracuse cornerback Will Allen. "He has agility and speed. The stuff he does isn't necessarily hard, but he's so fast that you have to honor his deep cuts. I played all right against him, but you have to be at the top of your game to stop him completely." Moss is the defending Big East champion in the 60-meter dash. He can leap 42 inches into the sky. He's a certain first-round draft pick. By deciding to come back for his senior season, he earns a legitimate shot at the Heisman Trophy. "Without Santana Moss on this team, it would be a big loss," Dorsey says. "He is a really gifted and special athlete."

Best Boxing Figure To Die In The Past Twelve Months

Beau Jack

Beau Jack, born Sidney Walker in Augusta, Georgia, was one of the most exciting fighters in the world during the Forties, a time many consider boxing's golden age. He fought the best part of his 112 professional matches before sellout crowds in Madison Square Garden, winning and losing the lightweight title twice (record: 83-24-5). Jack lived his last 44 years in Miami, where he operated a shoeshine stand in the Fontainebleau Hotel and later trained fighters and managed Miami Beach's famed Fifth Street Gym. He was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1991, and this past December an Associated Press panel voted him one of the top ten lightweights of the century. In his last years, afflicted with Parkinson's disease, Jack was toasted at gala banquets and sweet-science affairs around the nation, where he traveled with the help of his long-time friend, Miami boxing historian Hank Kaplan. Jack died at age 79 on February 9, 2000, in a Miami nursing home. "Goodbye, Beau Jack," New York Daily News sportswriter Bill Gallo wistfully concluded in a column eulogizing the fierce-punching brawler. "They don't hardly make fighters like you anymore."
As the neilrogers.com Website counts down the seconds until the expiration of Uncle Neil's contract with QAM, it is time to look to the future. Neil's numerous, well-deserved vacations and seemingly even more numerous gastrointestinal ailments (insert fart noise here) have given his second banana ample opportunity to work on his own shtick. Our verdict: Whenever the Old Man steps down, Rodriguez is ready to step in. Although his delivery may be a bit too low-key, his wit, improvisational ability, and Everyman appeal make for good talk radio. He nearly always riffs on topics that strike a chord with callers: women's feet, drinking games, cops, and of course, his forays into Broward County's swingers' club scene (though, as he often points out, he hasn't actually "swung"). If no one happens to call in, that's cool. He'll just play Bauhaus's "Bela Lugosi's Dead" -- all nine minutes of it -- until someone phones and begs him to stop. Also, as a thoroughly Americanized Cuban American, he's the perfect guy to bridge the cultural chasm between Miami-Dade and Broward. So if Neil is God, and George came from Cuba as a child (unconfirmed reports say dolphins may have been involved), that would make George ... well, a worthy successor at least.
As the sun sets on the first Saturday of every month, gearheads transform this burger joint's parking lot into a sea of iron, a celebration of America's love affair with the automobile. Rebuilt Detroit muscle cars shine like new. Chromed Harley-Davidson motorcycles gurgle and roar. Modern Japanese speedsters stand inches from the pavement. Owners swarm the blacktop to spy on the competition, listen to the latest motor gossip, and boast about their gleaming chariots. The crowd spans the ages: old folks recalling their youth, youngsters beaming with pride, kids dreaming of their first day behind the wheel. If you're passionate about the horseless carriage, this place is your mecca.
After taking the University of Miami's men's basketball team to the Sweet Sixteen of the NCAA tournament (the most successful season in the program's history), Hamilton had the opportunity to bolt to Georgia Tech, a school with a longer basketball tradition in a stronger basketball conference. He chose to remain as head coach of the Hurricanes basketball program he built from an afterthought into a perennial contender in the Big East. We don't mind saying this was the right decision. Here's hoping Hamilton, a stand-up guy in addition to being a great coach, sticks around until he can bring UM men's hoops to the legendary status of the school's football and baseball squads.
Panthers general manager Bryan Murray knows how to cut a deal, as he proved last year with the acquisition of Pavel Bure. This year he executed another shrewd move by swapping Radek Dvorak for Mike Vernon. In some ways the exchange looked less than sweet. Dvorak is young, fast, and talented. Since the trade he became a star on the Rangers' best offensive line. Vernon, in contrast, is a 37-year-old goalie who had been languishing as the backup in San Jose. But as Murray calculated, Vernon has a strong upside. In Detroit he twice played in the Stanley Cup finals, once winning the playoff MVP award. After arriving in Sunrise, he capably filled in for injured starting goalie Trevor Kidd, so capably, in fact, that he effectively outshone him. Vernon is always strongest in the playoffs. And in hockey, one offensive superstar and a hot goalie can win a championship. Thanks to Murray's maneuvering, the Panthers had both Bure and Vernon. Pretty sweet indeed. Now if only Murray had found a defense...
The newly created GableStage arrived with a bang on the staid landscape of South Florida theater last season. To be precise the company started off with a muscular production of David Hare's Skylight, only to follow it up with the most compelling combination of programs and performances in the region. Ranging from the familiar (Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men) to the spanking new (Patrick Marber's Closer, in its first production outside New York), artistic director Joseph Adler's choices of material, production standards, and the crackerjack performances he gets out of his actors are consistently engaging and becoming more exciting all the time.
There's plenty of choice horseflesh in South Florida each winter, but the most appealing thoroughbreds to pass through the region were Julie Harris and Charles Durning. The two arrived as part of the National Actors Theatre's touring production of The Gin Game, directed by Charles Nelson Reilly. This sentimental piffle of a play by D.L. Coburn won the Pulitzer for drama in 1977, but it's the actors who have aged well. They portrayed Weller (Durning) and Fonsia (Harris), two geezers abandoned by their families and dumped into a second-rate nursing home. Blending their disparate acting styles into a kind of demonic waltz (imagine a brainy spider battling cartoon character Foghorn Leghorn), Harris and Durning turned all dramatic expectations on their heads. In their hands even a piece of dramatic dross can seem like gold.
So Miami had this one coach with interesting hair, who is a legend, who succeeded a legend, then didn't succeed. Miami still has this other coach with interesting hair, who is a legend, who succeeded a very nice man named Alvin Gentry, but this guy hasn't succeeded either. Granted it's tough to make any judgments about Jim Morris's hair, seeing as he wears a hat to work and all. But in 1993 he did succeed a legend by the name of Ron Fraser, who had led the University of Miami Hurricanes baseball team to two national championships during his legendary career. The proverbial tough act to follow. But Morris has pulled it off, skippering Bobby Hill, Mike Neu, Kevin Brown, and company to the program's first College World Series championship since 1985 (earning his second Collegiate Baseball National Coach of the Year award in the process). UM baseball: under new management, but the legend continues.

Best Of Miami®

Best Of Miami®