1 Tuff Road Trip

So the plan to assassinate Renshaw will not come to fruition. The 1 Tuff Road Show left their beloved H-town a while ago full of intent and purpose to take down their one man foil, The Sports Dude.net aka David Renshaw. Why take out Renshaw? Well there were multiple reasons. For one, figurehead CmcD determined we must move the 1 Tuff enterprise into the Pacific Northwest. As the flagship columnist of the site, we felt that in order to maximize brand recognition, and to avoid any further confusion, we’d take out the pseudo-kingpin of Western Oregon sports society, one David Renshaw. So CmcD, Wyles Mallo, and I set out for our odyssey (foreshadowing alert!). We were about ten feet out of the driveway when we heard in a shrill nasal tone, "Hey guys! Wait for me!" It was Iss, of course. Well, to be fair, we took a vote, and by majority rule Iss was allowed to come along. After all he brought a bunch of road sodas, so I guess he earned his keep.

Predictably, multiple highway sodas caused our navigation system (Mallo) to malfunction and quicker than you can shake a switch at we were in the Bible belt. It is a little known fact that Alabama is the "Internet Café" Capital of the US, and while we were checking our email just outside of Montgomery we received shocking news. It seems as if one of Renshaw’s minions had gotten word of our plan to take him out and Renshaw quickly retired from the sports opinion business.

With our trip now seemingly purposeless we drove aimlessly through the South in our 1985 station wagon adorned with NY Statue of Liberty license plates getting pulled over about every tenth of a mile. Iss and I were in the backseat and had just finished up our best of 125 rock-paper-scissors championship when I decided we should play the license plate game. The first plate seen was Nevada which gave me an idea...let’s go to Denver!! That idea was quickly vetoed and Las Vegas was decided upon as the destination of choice. Iss voiced his displeasure as he had just been there a few weeks prior, but we moved as a group. Little did we know where our wacky misadventures would take us.

After our car gave out in Truth or Consequence, New Mexico, unfortunately with Wyles in tow, the group demeanor was down. I however, was as determined to get to Vegas as Tony Reali (aka ESPN’s ethnic Stat Boy) is to steal my career. The following sums up how the Sports Dude Did Vegas…

I must deeply suppress the memory of my fifteen hour hitchhike from New Mexico to Las Vegas and won’t recount the details, but please heed the warning that there is no such thing as a free ride. Luckily, a few of the Sports Dude’s buddies from law school (the Sports Dude has friends?!) happened to be in Sin City so I was able to shack up with them (shut up, it wasn’t like that). My energy was sapped and there was only one thing that could restore my life-force. No, not a mushroom coming out of a question mark box, but the sports book at the Bellagio of course!

The trip to Vegas is worth this experience alone. The place is decked out in a beautiful early 1900's dark mahogany finish and adorned with.....hey get out of here, who are you, get off my computer, seriously get out. Whoa, sorry about that, some random funboy started typing on the laptop. Don’t worry I bashed him good. Anyway, the sports book at the Bellagio has plush leather chairs all with flat screen TV’s right in front of your face. If you’re farsighted there are three mucho big-o screen TV’s which aren’t for the faint of heart or Anthony Diraimondo. As a major added bonus, you’re comped drinks as you’re just sitting there watching the games (Sports + free beer = The Dude’s heaven).

Using all of my accumulated sports knowledge, I placed a can’t miss parlay on the Mets, A’s, and Rangers, which of course lost badly. Undaunted, I then rolled over the BJ tables (get your mind out of the gutter) where, to look like a high roller, I briskly threw down two dead inventors of electricity (I suddenly feel my literary genius rubbing his eyes and slipping on some trousers…here we go!). I was then bent over the table and had train run upon me by every dealer and a few pit bosses, as the bankroll was gone in ten minutes.

Dejected from my losses I tried to console myself in hookers and booze, but unfortunately my buddies were there and prevented me from entering a Cage-esque tailspin. All I wanted was my Shue, but she was nowhere to be found. I did meet Sir Charles later that night in a club and my luck rebounded (zing!). After the club I decided to play my namesake, Caribbean Stud, and won $200 in an hour, bringing me close to even. I then went on a drinking/gambling binge playing single deck blackjack until 9:30am where I made the all-star move of hitting on 21 as I could no longer do the complicated arithmetic to add the ace into my hand. Miraculously, I kept winning as I listened to the yarns spun by a fellow hardcore gambler, a Mormon who got married out of high school, spent two years in jail, and is estranged from said wife due to his gambling addiction. Of course, I kept enabling him by applying peer pressure to keep him at the table every time he wanted to leave and call his wife to reconcile.

I figured he could always just marry ten other broads, so what’s the use in saving this relationship? Needless to say, Sports Dude approves of the Church of Latter Day Saints’ lax marital policy, but not their Real World representatives.

After about ninety minutes of sleep it was back to the strip and big drinking. The rest of the day was a haze as I woke up much like I did the day after my 21 st, except I was in the middle of Caesar’s Roman themed parade. After avoiding the stallion I quickly scrambled myself together and stammered to the roulette wheel where I promptly lost $250 betting on black. Feeling beaten and battered, I made my way back to the womb, aka the sports book at the Bellagio, where I knew I’d be welcomed with open arms. Once there I curled up in the fetal position in the big comfy chair, watched sports, and drank as I plotted how I would meet up with my 1 Tuff brethren.

To contact the Sports Dude click here or respond to his irreverence at the 1 Tuff Place Message Board.