Our web team posted a gallery earlier, and here are some images taken today by our staff snapper, Elizabeth Lavin.
Check out this new study of online consumption of local news by a fellow named Matthew Hindman. He studied 100 metro areas and found that people in Dallas/Fort Worth don’t consume much local news online. For instance, in the top city, Salt Lake City, a typical web user generates 89 pageviews per month of local news. In Oklahoma City (roughly the median), the typical web user generates 12 pageviews per month. In Dallas/Fort Worth? Just 5.5, tied for seventh-least pageviews.
Then there’s the matter of how many local news sites he found in each market, defined as a site that captures at least 1 percent of the market’s web users in a month’s time). He found we only have nine, about the median. By comparison, Indianapolis has 17, and Boston, the top city, has 28.
It would be nice to know which are the nine North Texas sites he measured. All we know is that four are TV sites, four are print, and one is web-only.
I’ll let Big Bob give you the details, because he’s the one who found them. But it seems to me like grieving parents lashing out in the wrong direction. (Problem for the Morning News, though, is that a jury — if it goes that far — just might side with those grieving parents.)
You know actor Michael Rapaport loves basketball. How much does he love it? At the 2010 NBA All Star Game celebrity game, he stole the MVP award from Terrell Owens, who had won it previously for two years straight.
So Rapaport just happened to be in Dallas today, not for the Mavs parade, but holed up in a hotel doing a press junket for his new documentary on the seminal hip-hop group A Tribe Called Quest calledÂ Beats, Rhymes, & Life: The Travels of a Tribe Called Quest.
We’ll have more of his thoughts on Tribe and his movie on FrontRow closer to the open date on July 29. But more pressingly, what does Rapaport think of the Mavs win?
I’m so glad to be in Dallas. I wish I could have went to the parade, I mean, I was really happy that the Mavericks won. I really was rooting for them. I’ve always like this team. I’m a Knicks fan, but I’ve always like the Mavericks. I love Dirk Nowitzki. I love Mark Cuban. And I just think it is great for the NBA. And I think it might just wind up being one of the best things that happens to LeBron James because I think it is just going to push him to be even better than he already is.
Since we can’t get enough of writing about what the Observer is writing about this week, remember last week’s cover story about how Dallas and Houston are now cooler than Austin. Yeah, FrontRow’s Christopher Mosley is not buying it. And this, he adds, just indicates how ignorant the Observer‘s music writers are of what is really going on in Austin. Dust off those boxing gloves.
Much ado about nothing, if you ask me. But several alert FBvians have sent me this video and the news story that it occasioned. How do two guys have so much fun at DFW Airport without security putting a kibosh on it?
Since the rest of us either don’t like parades, got downtown too late to catch the happenings, or prefer to let infographics speak for us, we dispatched three of our dedicated D Magazine summer interns to share their amazing, true tales of this morning’s Dallas Mavericks victory parade. Each patrolled a different segment of the route.
Take the jump, and check out our full parade photo gallery here.
First up, Meredith Crawford:
As a die-hard Dallas Mavericks fan, I was willing to brave the heat and the crowds in order to witness the beginning of today’s parade at the intersection of Young and Griffin streets. However, even at 8 a.m., the surrounding fans and I were already suffering under the sun as people hid beneath umbrellas and searched desperately for water bottle vendors.
Somehow everyone managed to maintain the excitement as we awaited the team’s arrival. I couldn’t help but join in as the crowds gave a resounding “Wooo!” for every police car and work truck that drove past.Â Even the porta-potty truck got a few “Go Mavs!” shouts. To us, everyone was part of the parade.
Sometimes, I think professional sports association commissioners sound like the occupants of the front pew, worrying about what’s wrong with kids today while fighting off a wicked case of the vapors by flapping their lilac-scented, embroidered hankies.
For real. Take former MLB commish Fay Vincent, who opined on ESPN’s The Herd that Mark Cuban’s passion was a bad thing.
Vincent said, “I think it’s more important for owners to be gentlemen, play by the rules, respect the authorities, do what’s good for the sport, than it is to manage his franchise to total success. The subtleties make the difference.Â George Steinbrenner was a real problem in baseball, and I think Mark Cuban is a real problem in basketball.”
May I just say, politely, Whisky Tango Foxtrot Ever. Is Mark Cuban sometimes annoying? Yes. Does his face bother me? Yes. Were the weeks he was silent during the championship run a blessed event? Sure. But passion for the sport and a desire to see it officiated fairly is not a thing that is bad for basketball. Neither is the money he spends on his team. And I’m fairly certain the MLB has enjoyed the benefits of the Yankee’s largesse under Steinbrenner’s control, too.
…if you purchase $50 of official Mavs merchandise, and are one of the first 200 people to show up at the Macy’s NorthPark Center tomorrow at 6 pm.
One of those things will not be hard to do, especially if you have not already bought your commemorative T-shirt. The other might require playing hooky from work. Again.
As I type this dispatch from the cool confines of D Magazine headquarters, high atop St. Paul Place in downtown Dallas, droplets of sweat are still rolling down the small of my back. Yes, I went to the Mavericks parade. No, I didn’t stay long enough to see the Larry O’Brien Trophy pass by.
The plan was to come to work early, then head down to Victory Plaza (or thereabouts). Dropping off my daughter at her Arboretum summer camp, though, meant that I didn’t get to work till about 9:30. I texted Zac, who was already ensconced under the overpass at Houston and McKinney: “Is discretion the better part of valor, given my tardiness?” His reply: “Hm maybe. But also when will this happen again?” He was right! Into the fray I went.
Sweet Holy Mother of God, did I ever make the wrong call. I won’t bore you with a play-by-play account of each bad decision I made once I got down there, trying to navigate by texts from both Zac and Spider Monkey, our staff photographer, who claimed to be standing atop the 99.5 van with Gordon Keith. I wound up in a sea of perspiring humanity in front of Hooters, literally unable to walk because it was so crowded. Smoke from a Swisher Sweet filled my nostrils. A white guy with his shorts riding so low that they were essentially cinched at his knees dropped an N-bomb as he upbraided his associate, a black fellow wearing a gold grill, for not doing his part to empty the large plastic cup they were sharing. Judging from his slurred speech and general demeanor, I assumed the cup contained sterno that had been strained through cheesecloth (but that’s just a guess).
Long minutes passed. Still I was unable to move. Two lanes of people were moving through the crowd, one in each direction, but I became stuck behind — really, stuck against — a demure, obese white woman who was reluctant to press ahead, as forward progress would require pushing people aside with her estimable haunches. Ten minutes passed. We moved perhaps 6 feet. A loudspeaker from a K104 booth blared music directly into my left ear. Somehow, despite the crush of people, a Hispanic woman wearing short shorts and with her muffin-top midriff exposed, found space to do the booty-shake dance. You know: hands on knees, coyly looking over shoulder, derriere working up and down like it’s powered by compressed air.
More time passed. I sweated. I stood. And, then, as a loud cheer rose from about a block away, indicating that the head of the parade was approaching, I made a break for it. “Excuse me,” I said, leaving the single-file southbound lane still impeded by the obese woman. “Excuse me. Sorry. Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.” I pissed off one stranger after another until I got into open space. Head down, I aimed back to the office.
As I walked up Ross, people were still streaming toward the parade. I saw an entire family — mom, dad, couple of kids — ambling toward the parade at a pace that suggested they thought the thing might not start for another couple hours or so.
“Is it over yet?” the mom asked as we passed each other.
“No, I don’t think so,” I replied. “But it’s kinda crowded.”
“We thought it would be!” she called back, now 10 feet away from me.
And that was the last I ever saw of them.
Reports from the field are already coming in. It’s hot. Water is scarce. Some intrepid PR person sent me a press release targeted toward a very specific subgenre of Mavs fans who happen to be considering a vasectomy. People are, in a really, really shocking turn of events, using DART. I was getting Tweets from people heading downtown starting before 7 am, which means if you’re just now trying to force your way in, Godspeed.
If you do things right, the parade should basically eat your entire day. And tonight’s almost too easy, because you’re obviously joining us at the Kessler Theater for Bonnie and Clyde, the first film in our latest FrontRow series. The theme is “Dallas, Outlaws, and the American Dream,” and Peter Simek has already helpfully pointed out the similarities between what we’ll be seeing tonight and certain lovable group of NBA champs.
Come early to catch live music in the front bar, have a beer, and say hi before we all go geek out over this excellent classic. It’s sexy and violent, and pretty much cements the whole “bad boys/girls are irresistible” theory. And this almost goes without saying, but the theater has air conditioning, which is just a nice bonus after spending hours outside in the heat this morning. Dinner? Try BEE. It’s in the neighborhood.
For more evening options, go here.
We’re enjoying seeing the pictures of women you’ve nominated so far (we’re seeing lots of wedding dresses, dogs, and wine glasses), but we need more! We know you’re surrounded by beauty in this town, so think of the ladies that make your heart beat faster and send them our way. Nominate now.
I’m a huge Mavs fan, going back to the glory days of Rolando, Aguirre, and Harper. That said, I wouldn’t go anywhere near the parade end of downtown today. I honestly don’t understand why anyone would. When I try to list the pros and cons, I come up with plenty of cons: the heat, the crowds, the potential for violence. What’s a pro? Getting to see Dirk Nowitzki in person? I can buy a $2 ticket to a Mavs game next season and get that done in the comfort of an air-conditioned arena.