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Show t ii'mjo qfnm0 0i "gp pp mpiitp ngii hi iji 1 W mi'iyi mi'i' u lp y y HP1 W y m"ny 'y y my ini 0 0 )00 niy-y- my my Park City by Jim Murray Mfanrr'iraiy sm SpgDirits A ,1 Page CI Thursday, January 13, 1983 To Steve Erickson, Brighton's just a ridge away by Nan Chalat As you or I would drive it, Brighton is at least an hour away. But ask Steve Erickson Erick-son to do it on a pair of skis, and he'll come close to cutting that time in half. Last Saturday's Wasatch Mountain Overland crosscountry cross-country ski race proved that "The other side of the Wasatch" is indeed just over the top of the next ridge. Barely out of breath, Steve Erickson was the first of 120 racers to cross the finish line on the Park City Municipal Golf Course in front of the I White Pine Touring Center. He completed the 11-kild- h meter course from Brighton in 39 minutes and 21 seconds. A dubious achievement award for the longest time went to Pam Osborne with a time of 187.23. Then again, it was only Pam's second time on skis. The youngest finisher was 10M year old Megan Holcomb with a time of 123.27. Erickson did not beat last year's first-place time of 37 minutes set by University of Utah nordic racer Dag Mobakan, but race officials pointed out that variable ski conditions and changes in the route make it unwise to compare times from year to year. In the past, the Overland Race has begun in the Brighton Touring Center parking lot. But this year racers started at the Brighton Brigh-ton entrance to the Guardsman Guards-man Pass Road, making the course Vi mile shorter. Racers started at 9 a.m. with a Mi mile jog up the plowed road before they could put on their skis and press onward over Scott's Pass. At the pass skiers had a choice of heading down through the bowl or taking an easier cat track traverse. On the descent King Consolidated Con-solidated lift operators at the Park City Ski Area waved the early-morning parade on toward Thaynes Canyon. Just past the Silver King Mine Train buildings, the racers negotiated an icy descent to the golf course where volunteers were busy shoveling a snow path across Three Kings Drive and stopping cars until each racer made it safely across. In years past, skiers either sacrificed their base wax and charged right across the pavement, or they scrambled scram-bled to take off their skis and run. The last obstacle before the final rolling stretch across the golf course was a narrow bridge over a small stream. Only one person fell, but not into the water. The bridge held and there was only a momentary traffic jam. The race was sponsored by KSIN radio. The next race in the Wasatch Citizen Series will be held on Jan. 15 at 1 p.m. in Park City. For more information on the series call White Pine Touring Center, 649-8701. j ' .y ' 7--w-.,ixIj ';"'. - ' - - I ' h ( I s J ; J J,;'Vr m f , -" 't f ' ri,--w If fi Jr f - ' f tZn; A ml -r " v f ' ' irz x-'r - , V '' ' ljiT - V J ' ' . " t , i - '"-ft, I' . 4 - photos by Nan Chalat ABOVE: A variety of obstacles confronted Overland racers Saturday, including water hazards and road crossings. BELOW: Jack Turner, Steve Erickson and Drew Barney savor their victory in Saturday's race. r- 1 t r ' 1 f rf i , - ,' v i I , t ' i ' Mf :r ' ji v ; ! i -i - t $ ,! , ; vy; f , ' V r, A ill ' iff , 1 What the Rams need most is an owner transplant Once upon a time there was a happy little kingdom known as the Los Angeles Rams and they were more fun than a bag of kittens. Everybody loved them. They were kind of dotty, but the community doted on them the way a parent might on the least advantaged of the children. It was very patient with them. They were nomads, this bunch, they came to California, so to speak, with their mattresses mat-tresses on the roof of their jalopies from Cleveland as so many emigres had before them, but the community took them in, bound up their wounds, patted them on the head, murmured soothing nothings in their ears, and made them comfortable, healthy, and even affluent. Theirs was a cheery bunch, they played games for a living, and the community suffered suf-fered for them when they lost, and exulted with them when they won. They helped make pro football into a national mania, and they were very clever about it. They were always just good enough to keep you interested, but not to get you bored. They were perfect for Los Angeles. War might loom, floods might threaten, smog might peril, but the biggest problem the Rams faced week-in, week-out, was who was going to play quarterback. It wasn't a game, it was an escape. If the team had a weakness, it was at the one position they couldn't draft for ownership. owner-ship. You could plug up the hole at quarterback, quarter-back, but the front office gets a no-cut lifetime contract. Dan Reeves, the original owner, was a good football man, but was given to dark moods. Dan was the first to establish the extensive, ex-tensive, exhaustive scouting network, and to prove you could get better football players out of Grambling then you could Ohio State. But, he feuded with his partners, his coaches, the league, the media. The decision process got so paralyzed, they had to bring in a San Francisco press agent to mediate the differences dif-ferences in the executive suite. Pete Rozelle parlayed those experiences into the com-missionership com-missionership of all football. Dan Reeves twice fired the best football coach money could buy. George Allen, a furtive fur-tive operator who ran his franchise like the CIA, used to irritate Dan. Probably because he won without much help from Dan. When Allen left, all he did was take his next team to the Super Bowl. The Rams won in the you-know-what bowl. Reeves hired a college coach who still believed in the quick kick and the Statute of Liberty as valid offensive ploys. When Reeves died, the Rams seemed finally to achieve a brand of excellence on the field and at the top. Carroll Rosenbloom was an interesting case, a tough guy who liked to imagine himself as a hand-kissing, heel-clicking social fop. He wasn't. Underneath Under-neath those ruffled cuffs were sets of brass knuckles. You didn't want to meet Carroll Rosenbloom on the two-yard line of a business deal, either, but his chief contribution con-tribution to Ram lore turned out to be moving the franchise out of Los Angeles. He did it for money he would never use. Anyway you look at it, it was a blunder, an act of spitefulness which was to cost the league, the community of Los Angeles, and, ultimately, the community of Oakland, dearly. When Rosenbloom died, the Rams finally thought they had a marriage made in heaven or at least in MGM. A great golden-haired golden-haired princess inherited the Rams and the best traditions of Snow White, or Sleeping Beauty. Disneyland was bidding for the rights. It was perfect casting. A technicolor blockbuster which could sure play in Peoria. Or the Music Hall. Goldilocks and The Chicago Bears. Gidget Goes to the Super Bowl. Alas! It was more like, Say Goodnight, Gracie. Instead of Doris Day, with ink on her nose, diagramming winning plays, it was like casting Joan Rivers in Camille. Georgia Rosenbloom Frontiere thought a season could be scripted like the second act of Naughty Marietta. You could run the team from the hairdressers. Quality football players were released with a shrug while draft choices were dumped off balconies for overage quarterbacks. The coach looked like a plate of spaghetti on the sidelines. The team actually played like a Victor Herbert operetta. The Rams can't be rebuilt by a coaching change. What it really has to have is an owner change. The team doesn't need a quarterback and it doesn't have to draft for a defensive end. It should lobby for the league to put owners in the draft, not only players. The Rams, off their record, should get the pick No. 1. They should select Art Rooney. Or Clint Murchison, Paul Brown. Or. if they really want to turn the franchise around, how about Al Davis? (c) 1983, Los Angeles Times Ice LOLO'S La Marine of Port-Grmavd France and Park City, Utah NOW OPEN French Cuisine Reservations Please 649-2358 368 Main Street Dairi Vpueen' |