I grew up playing, following and loving baseball. The 15-year-old me could name just about any starting nine across Major League Baseball, especially my hometown New York Mets and Yankees. I was all in.

In many ways, I’m still all in. I still love the game. But as an adult living in Denver — and with a 15-year-old son myself now — the local Colorado Rockies have not given us much to cheer about this season. On pace to be one of the worst — if not the worst — team in modern baseball history (they will shatter the run differential record for true stats geeks, even if they miss out on the all-time loss record by a game or two … ) it’s been a miserable season. But the funny thing is that my son, who has never much been interested in baseball, has become an enormous fan as the Rockies chase history for all the wrong reasons.

As a result, we’ve been to more games at Coors Field this season than any other season. While we’re having fun (tickets are cheap!), it’s for the worst possible reason. Losses feel like wins in this upside-down season where we are pulling to be part of history. But somehow, maybe thanks to us, the Rockies are also in the top half of MLB attendance, despite their miserable season. That’s not so much a testament to the team as it is to their fantastic ballpark, where on a beautiful summer night it’s nice to take in the sunsets and watch other teams win. Nonetheless, while there have been surprisingly good crowds at Coors Field this year for such an awful team, it’s generally been a lifeless, joyless experience at the ballpark this season.

Which brings us to the Savannah Bananas.
Much has been written in sports media about the rise of this franchise that has tweaked the game in such a fun fashion that it’s hard to turn away. Are they goofy? They do seem that way. Do they play loose with the traditional rules of baseball? You bet. Do they have the best interest of baseball fans at heart? Absolutely, yes. I reached those conclusions after attending my first Bananas game, the front end of a two-day stand at Coors Field that sold out, more than 50,000 fans each — an attendance record for the team for any game held at an MLB stadium.

So, what’s going on here?

The Bananas brought joy to the joyless Coors Field and it was infectious. At a Rockies game, the concourses are full of wandering refugees looking for any kind of fulfillment through a beer or a hot dog or any of the ballpark’s specialty dishes. Since fans aren’t missing anything on the field, they fill the concourse. At the Bananas game, where the game itself has a two-hour time limit? It’s not that the concourses were completely empty, but let’s just say you never had to risk bumping into anyone ahead of you. That’s because people were by and large in their seats. The entire time.

The experience underscored some realities that event organizers of all kinds can learn from, and not just those in sports. After my night with the Bananas, here are five things I think they are getting absolutely right:

Know Your Brand, Stay Loyal to It

This is an enterprise that is relentlessly on brand. The whole evening was bathed in yellow and banana-themed imagery, starting with the kid who peeled and ate a banana on the pitcher’s mound before the game to determine if it tasted good, and thus the game would be good. To the baby brought forth in a banana costume and raised in the air “Lion King” style. To the bananas tossed from the crowd during the pregame festivities. To the fantastic banana mascot named Split. To the foam fingers shaped like a banana instead of an outstretched finger. All of it was on point.

And of course, this team’s other brand is joy. From my vantage point near the field, the players, the support staff, the auxiliary entertainment (a banana-themed princess anyone?), even the media handlers were all smiles. All night long. Yes, they are paid entertainers, but their fun came off as genuine and it showed in every aspect of their production.

Their other motto: “Fans First.” The team’s holding company is even named that. Every piece of the game itself was designed to give the fans the best experience. The rules of Banana Ball include no bunting. Because, as is stated in that rule: bunting sucks. Ask any baseball fan and they’d probably agree. This brand is all about stripping away the parts of their product — baseball — that most fans don’t like.

Build and Execute a Run of Show

A Savannah Bananas game is a tightly orchestrated affair, from the scene outside the stadium before the game, to the hours-long fun and antics on the field before the game, to the game itself, which contains a surprising amount of actual baseball interrupted on numerous occasions by tightly choreographed dance sequences by the players or even the umpires. Everyone is in on the act. And everything moves so fast and so tight.

Banana Ball has as two-hour time limit for games with the winner being whichever team is in the lead at that point. Was it a surprise that the game ended in the ninth inning at 1:59? Not really. Every minute felt deliberate. Every baby race, every fan contest, every piece of schtick throughout the experience was designed, thought out, and controlled even if the product itself was supposed to look chaotic. It was a brilliant use of time management and it came from what has to be an impeccable run of show. And somehow, the teams scored 31 runs on this night. Can you imagine how long an un-orchestrated MLB game would take with 31 runs?

And when it was over, the Bananas’ band was on stage outside the ballpark to keep the party going. All events can take a lesson from the thought put into the timing and flow of a Savannah Bananas game.

Incorporate Music Appropriately

If you are wanting quiet, come to a Colorado Rockies game. (Seriously, please come to a Rockies game. Tickets are on me!) But the Savannah Bananas experience was not that. Music is a constant presence during the entire show, often just in the background as play continues.

But the music never felt out of place. It never felt forced. It only felt additive.

And the music is such an important part of the experience that the home plate umpire is known as the “Dancing Ump.” I even saw one fan whose jersey was signed by the Dancing Ump, emphasizing the importance of music in the event and its stars — and how crucial it is to the brand.

Break the Rules if You Need To

From a baseball perspective, Banana Ball is completely bonkers and yet completely works. There are no walks. On ball four, the batter can start running and keep running until all nine players on the other team touch the ball. If a fan catches a foul ball, the batter is out. And don’t even ask about what happens if the game is tied, but let’s just say the pitcher has to do a lot of running to get any ball that’s hit. As we’ve established, there’s no bunting, because bunting sucks. And no mound visits, because who other than the ones involved in that visit want to waste that time?

This is not an experience for pure baseball enthusiasts. But the Savannah Bananas leaned into the types of angst that drew people away from baseball for years. They juiced out all the interesting stuff, put it in a blender and served. And it’s delicious.

Did they break the rules? Yes, they did. And sometimes you need to break the rules to get people to think different, regardless of what event you’re producing.

Bring Some Joy

Business meetings can feel, well, business-y. Even sports events can feel like more of a business experience, especially at the professional level where millionaires are playing millionaires in stadiums built by billionaires. Or in the case of our Colorado Rockies, events feel lifeless when the on-field product yields no joy — an experience that unfortunately spills into the stands. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t add some youth sports events to this list of experiences that feel all business as well.

The Bananas? All joy, all the time.

Your event doesn’t need to be on hyper joy for two hours straight like a Bananas game, but can’t you have a little fun in there as well? It’s important to remember that attendees, and people in general, can use a little break here and there. Lean into the joy if you can.

Jason Gewirtz is vice president and managing director of the Northstar Meetings Group Sports Division and the publisher of SportsTravel. 

There were signs early on that I might be destined to become publisher of SportsTravel. One of those signs was that I always had a thing for sports events, even if they were ones I organized in my room.

While I didn’t play golf growing up, I at least played mini golf. And somewhere along the line, our family had acquired a golf putter, which was the only club we had in the house. As a kid of about 10 years old, I would use that putter to create “golf tournaments” in the upper floor of my childhood home, carving out a course with that putter, a golf ball and a Dixie cup as the hole. And to make it seem real, I would assign each stroke to a player on the real PGA Tour, keeping a spreadsheet of everyone’s score as I went along the course to see who won. It was nerdy sports stuff but I enjoyed thinking that Jack Nicklaus, Gary Player, Fred Couples or Bernhard Langer were playing my home course, including the signature Hole No. 5 from down the hallway, to the door of my bedroom to the tricky hole placement between my bed and dresser, a tough par-2.

Those childhood tournaments were in the back of my mind as I recently had the chance to spend the opening round at the USGA’s U.S. Senior Open at the historic Broadmoor hotel and resort in Colorado Springs. It was the venerable venue’s third time hosting the championship, which is open to golfers age 50 and above. And what a treat to see the actual Bernhard Langer — winner of two Masters, as well as a few of my childhood tournaments — tee off and putt in real life at age 67.

It’s that nostalgia that feeds the Senior Open, the chance to see former favorites still at it and on the course. But the event — particularly in Colorado Springs — has proven more than a step back in time. It’s a step up in economic impact, a great case study on a destination leaning into big moments to make the case for the economy of major sports events and a larger sports culture.

Steeped in History

The Broadmoor is no stranger to big events. In its 107-year history, the resort at the base of the Rocky Mountains has hosted nine USGA championships, including the 1959 U.S. Amateur where a 19-year-old Nicklaus won his first tournament (and years before his other crowning glory winning one of my childhood hallway championships …). The Broadmoor was also the site where LPGA Hall of Famer Annika Sorenstam won the 1995 U.S. Women’s Open, her first LPGA victory.

But the U.S. Senior Open is also no stranger, having come to the mountainside resort in 2008 and 2018. In addition to the 2025 event, the USGA has announced it plans to return in 2031 and in 2037. That place in the rotation means a lot to the resort as Jack Damioli, the Broadmoor’s president and chief executive officer, told me during a chat in his office as the event teed off.

“Being in the rotation every six years is something that we would love to be able to continue and it’s just part of the golf history, the history of the Broadmoor and what makes the Broadmoor kind of special,” he said.

Hosting the event is no small feat for Damioli’s staff of more than 2,000 employees whose hospitality has become legendary in the travel industry. Combined with more than 1,700 volunteers on site for the events, the logistics of getting those people around was substantial.

“This takes a lot of coordination, a lot of behind-the-scenes efforts,” he said. “Three years ago, we started planning, selling sponsorships, getting the administrative pieces together with security and all those type of orchestrations that have to happen. That includes shuttling services, where volunteers park, where patrons park, how do we interface with a resort that has 784 guest rooms and all those type of things.”

Despite those logistics, the effort is worth it, even if the bottom-line impact is in the long term.

“Financially, this is kind of a break even for us,” Damioli said. “We may make a small profit, but this is not a windfall by any means. But it is something from a marketing perspective that’s priceless. If you think about 20 hours on television, Thursday and Friday on Golf Channel, and then 12 p.m. to 4 p.m. over the weekend on NBC — you can’t afford to buy that. As an independent hotel and resort, you can’t afford to buy that kind of TV time.”

While Damioli likes being in the rotation for the event, the USGA also likes returning for the built-in advantages the resort provides. As Julia Pine, the USGA’s director of championship communications and content, explained to me, while the USGA maintains “anchor sites” for the rotation of the regular U.S. Open, other championships like the Senior Open typically don’t work the same way.

“We don’t use that term officially for the Senior Open, but this is as close as we get,” she said of the Broadmoor. “Internally we will say the Broadmoor has turned into a bit of an anchor site for the Senior Open and we have this commitment to come back every five, six years.”

Driving that commitment are some efficiencies that a resort destination provides, including infrastructure the USGA doesn’t have to build anew as it would at other courses. Facilities are there to help with housing, food and beverage, even viewing areas.

“When we go to some typical country clubs or golf courses, we basically have to build a small city,” Pine said. “But at the Broadmoor, we’re able to utilize so many of their hardscape facilities that there are some cost savings from a build perspective for us, so that’s another benefit to being somewhere that has the sort of infrastructure that the Broadmoor has.”

And it doesn’t hurt that the venue has stunning views tucked alongside a mountain and provides a place that players and their families want to visit. Fans clearly want to visit, too. Of the 12,000 fans per day that came during the ticketed Wednesday through Sunday, less than half — 46 percent — came from Colorado Springs. Another 32 percent came from the Denver market with the remainder from outside of the region.

Overall, the tournament was expected to generate an estimated $24 million in economic impact.

An Event with Record Impact

Those numbers are music to the ears of the city’s hospitality community.

As players teed off on the opening Thursday, I got some time in the Broadmoor’s west lobby with Doug Price, the president and chief executive officer of Visit Colorado Springs. And one of the first facts he shared with me explains why a city wants this kind of business from sports: In 2018, the last time the U.S. Senior Open was in town, the week resulted in the largest sales tax generation the city of Colorado Springs has ever experienced for any event, sports or otherwise.

“Not only was the hotel occupancy up, but for a city that depends on sales tax, the amount of food and beverage and gasoline and all the things that get purchased that week, you couldn’t replace it,” he said. “For a city that’s not a tier one city — we’re not Denver who gets all these sporting events — for us, we see the spike in a big, big way. And then you factor in NBC and the Golf Channel and Peacock with 20 hours of live coverage, it just puts us in a different league for a week.”

Or put another way: “This is brand enhancement on steroids for us,” he said. “It’s terrific.”

In addition to the CVB, Colorado Springs has an active sports commission that was also involved in efforts during the week. Over breakfast in the Broadmoor’s main dining room — where the city’s power brokers have dined for generations — Davis Tutt, the senior director of sports tourism and Olympic engagement for the Colorado Springs Sports Corp, emphasized many of the same points.

“The USGA is an international brand and they are pushing out the Broadmoor to markets around the world,” he noted, “showing the landscape that’s here and the property that is the Broadmoor. They show our city very well.”

The announced return in upcoming years was also indicative of the trust the USGA has in the city’s approach to sports, he said.

“Obviously with it coming back in ’31 and ’37, the USGA recognized that ticket sales are good and solid,” Tutt said. “It’s a show that they want to keep bringing this back and putting it on.”

And with NBC being the broadcasters of the event as well as the broadcaster for the Olympic and Paralympic Games in the United States, the chance was there as well to do some promotion for the upcoming 2026 Olympic and Paralympic Games from the city that serves as headquarters of the U.S. Olympic and Paralympic Committee.

Promoting Around a Brand

While Colorado Springs has its traditional hospitality community to support big events such as the U.S. Senior Open, other efforts at economic development are at play in town as well, drafting off the success and impact that sports event like these have.

Colorado Springs has been investing in sports for years. Its original founder, William Jackson Palmer, even put an emphasis on health and well-being when the city was launched in 1871. In more recent times, Colorado Springs made the game-changing play in 1978 to attract the U.S. Olympic Committee to move its headquarters there. That move has produced an entire economy for the Olympic and Paralympic movement, which has more than 25 national governing bodies located in town.

But “Olympic City USA” as they call themselves has been expanding in recent years beyond that podium pedigree. The 3,400-seat Ed Robson Arena opened in 2021 at Colorado College, as did the 8,000-seat Weidner Field, a soccer stadium south of downtown that is home to the USL Switchbacks. Plans are in the works for a potential new indoor/outdoor youth sports complex.

With all that economy at play, the city also has a new effort to unite business forces to draft off the success of events such as the U.S. Senior Open, as well as those new venues. Source Colorado Springs is a new effort from the city’s chamber of commerce to unite different forces in the city for purposes of economic development, based on a similar program that has proven successful in Cincinnati to elevate its national profile.

Over lunch at the Broadmoor’s Golden Bee (where waitresses fling bee-shaped stickers at patrons who wear them proudly during their meal and the rest of the day), Jayne Mhono Dickey, the group’s executive director, explained what’s happening. While “Olympic City USA” is one brand the city promotes, it also wants to position itself as friendly for the outdoors, as a place for business, as a destination that supports technology and more.

“We established Source Colorado Springs to help tell the Colorado Springs story nationally,” she said. “The program is structured in a way that collaborates with all organizations that are locally based be it Visit Colorado Springs, the Colorado Springs Sports Corp, the arts industry, key primary employers like aerospace and investment, manufacturing, cyber security — we’re trying to work as a link to all these entities. We want to harmonize all these brands, find a common brand that truly represents us as a region, so we can be able to sell ourselves nationally and globally. And the Senior Open is one of those elements.”

That kind of coordination and partnership may pay other dividends locally as well.

From his office in the Broadmoor, Damioli said groups such as the USGA take note when they see the local community support a bid and the execution of a sports event.

“As we think about what goes into a decision to return or to book a location, the city government, the state government is very important,” he said. “So, support from the Colorado Tourism Office, support from El Paso County, support from the city of Colorado Springs is very important and the USGA looks at that, and they want to make sure that they’re welcome into the city that they’re going into and that everybody’s aligned with the vision that this is something that’s going to be good for the community.”

The Master Plan

All of which brings us back to the golf.

When all was said and done, Irishman Padraig Harrington took home this year’s U.S. Senior Open crown, securing the win on the final hole on the final day over Stewart Cink. Asked at the end what he thought of the experience, Harrington put an exclamation point on what local leaders were hoping would be the case.

“I just really enjoyed the experience here at The Broadmoor,” said Harrington. “Right from the start, you’d be surprised … sometimes we stay in very average places because it’s near the [event]. Here we’re staying in a beautiful hotel. It just settles you down for the week. Everything about it, being on site, which made it very easy, it just was a very nice, comfortable week.

“Look, I’m here working this week. I think there’s nobody that wouldn’t come here on a holiday.”

For leaders like Price, that kind of sentiment put a cap on the reason sports events and sports tourism are so important to destinations like Colorado Springs.

“I just have to remind myself that when General Palmer founded this city, it was it was on health and wellness,” he said. “It was for people with tuberculosis to come here for the sunshine and to get healthy. So, before there was a term called medical tourism, General Palmer already knew that this would be a place that people would come to enjoy themselves and to get healthy. And so the way it’s worked out, you know, 154 years later, it’s kind of remarkable how the master planning for this city continues.”

For sports fans like me, the opportunity to see our childhood heroes was an added bonus as well. Seeing the impact an event like the U.S. Senior Open has on a city like Colorado Springs was as satisfying as sinking that par-2 putt in my hallway years ago.

And seeing the actual Bernhard Langer play in person? Even better.

Jason Gewirtz is vice president and managing director of the Northstar Meetings Group Sports Division and the publisher of SportsTravel. 

At SportsTravel and the TEAMS Conference, we are in the sports-event business. But we’re also just as much in the relationship business. Work acquaintances often become personal acquaintances. When you work in an industry long enough — and you enjoy the company of those with whom you work — it’s inevitable.

And in every industry, certain people always seem to be a friend to everyone. That was certainly the case with Corey Peterson.

I can’t recall exactly the first time I met Corey but it was most certainly at one of the first TEAMS Conferences I attended after I started working at SportsTravel. Corey was with the Hampton CVB in Virginia when we first met and later worked for Richmond Region Tourism. We began with a few hellos. And as things happen in any industry where you see people again and again, the hellos turned into small conversations, which turned into larger conversations. The next thing you know, you start to know someone.

In the case of Corey, our relationship evolved exactly on those lines.

One year not long after we met and after we had announced our SportsTravel Award nominations, we received a long and well-written letter from Corey. In the letter, he regretted that a major soccer tournament in the Richmond area, the Jefferson Cup, was not on our ballot. He walked through every detail of why he thought the event deserved recognition if not that year, then in the years to come. With nearly 1,000 youth soccer teams coming to town and filling hotels for miles outside of Richmond, it was a good case to make.

Not long after, he invited me out for a press trip to see the event and to show us what we’d missed. I took him up on the offer. On my arrival, Corey was waiting with his car and I was surprised to learn I was the only one on the press trip. When I got to my hotel room, he had left a gift basket that included a signed mini basketball from Richmond-based VCU. I learned later that the signature was just Corey’s, a bit of a joke to get things off to a light mood.

Over a few days in Richmond, I started to get to know him better. We had similar musical tastes. We both loved to talk sports and liked the same commentators. I gave him grief that the soccer club organizing the tournament had their offices right next to a restaurant we had eaten at the day before, so did everything in Richmond happen in this one block? He showed me more of the city and I grew to appreciate the destination and his work. And when we finally went to see the Jefferson Cup, and a coached yelled out “Nice cross!” to one of his players as we walked by, neither of us being terribly big soccer fans at the time were even sure what he was talking about. (I do know, now…) For the rest of our trip — and for years after — if something seemingly good happened, one of us would just say “nice cross.”

Shortly after that visit, when Corey came through on a work trip to Colorado where I live, he asked to meet up for breakfast. Unbeknownst to me, he brought with him his boss in Richmond at the time, Cleo Battle, now the head at Louisville Tourism. I’m a University of Colorado graduate and when Cleo saw the CU sticker on my car in the parking lot, he grinned that huge Cleo Battle grin and mentioned his ties to the university. As I watched Corey roll his eyes, I learned for the first time that Corey was somehow a fan of the University of Nebraska, and he learned that inviting Cleo to breakfast had been a terrible mistake. It was one of the best breakfasts I’ve ever had — two against one — making an instant friend in Cleo and deepening the relationship with Corey at the same time as we gave him the hardest time possible.

That breakfast evolved to the inevitable next steps of texting on college football weekends. The Buffs did this, the Huskers did that. And it led to other occasional messages. I had put that VCU basketball in our basement so that my then very young son could play with it. One time my son was bouncing the ball and wanted to know if the guy who signed it was famous. I sent Corey a photo of the moment and told him that I told my son, yes, the guy who signed the ball was very famous. “I see no lies,” he replied.

On another trip through Colorado, Corey invited me to a Denver Nuggets game, on the condition I drive him to the airport to catch his flight after the game. It was a fair deal. We got to know each other even better. When the PA system played “Ghostbusters,” he mentioned how he didn’t appreciate the song or the artist, Ray Parker Jr. — someone whose other work I was quite familiar with and liked. It started a friendly argument, mostly because I had apparently opened a long-standing wound that already existed between him and his older brother, Pete, who shared my views. Before I knew it, I was sitting courtside at the Nuggets game talking to Pete on the phone because Corey said I’d like him better. On the ride to the airport, I cued up as much Ray Parker music as was sitting in my then iPod, which was a surprising amount. Corey just shook his head. Later on, I changed his contact picture in my phone to a picture of Ray Parker, which came up any time he called or texted, making me laugh almost every time.

Corey eventually left the bureau in Richmond, but we stayed in touch. He texted on birthdays, on Father’s Day, on game days, on some random music thing he thought I’d like. And in a gift to Corey, my son eventually — and randomly — became a Philadelphia Eagles fan. Corey was pretty much the only other Eagles fan I had ever known. I’d send him photos of my son in his Eagles gear and even though they had never met, they both ended up knowing everything about each other.

When I told my son recently that I’d take him to an Eagles game this season, and when the game ended up being the contest coming up October 20 with the New York Giants, Corey reminded me it was just a train ride away. So, we got tickets to meet up, excited to go with Pete Ciriello on our sales team — a massive Giants fan who got us seats near him and near the Eagles’ entrance to the field. I knew Corey and Pete would find each other amusing, and that my son would be on Corey’s side. The thought of it gave me considerable joy. I also knew I’d get considerable ribbing about Nebraska’s recent football win over Colorado, one that Corey and I had spent the better part of that evening texting about. The trash talk was going to come in person for sure.

Which is why it was so shocking on the night of our closing party during TEAMS ’24 this year to learn that Corey had quite suddenly passed away at his home in Virginia, at only 44 years old, of an apparent heart attack. Even more shocking in that he had just texted me and my other longtime colleague Yvonne Garcia, who was closer to Corey than I was, earlier that morning. The night before at our TEAMS VIP dinner, I had mentioned to yet another friend of Corey’s that we planned to go to the Eagles game in a few weeks. She texted him a photo of herself, me and Yvonne to show we were all together and that she had heard about the game. He texted the next morning to say he had gone to bed early and woke up to the photo. “See what happens when you go to bed early? You miss all the fun messages.” It was the last message he’d send me. His passing shortly after that text was sudden and a reminder of how fragile life, and relationships, can be.

As the news spread of his passing during our closing party, a few of our most veteran TEAMS attendees gathered offsite to reminisce. The bar we found was fairly empty and it was nice to share some stories even in the suddenness of the news. That his passing happened at TEAMS while many of his friends were gathered was perhaps fitting. As the night went on, and our official closing party ended, many of our attendees found their way to this bar as well. There were plenty of people there I knew, and many that I didn’t know. But they were there getting to know each other, sharing those common experiences after our events where some of the deepest relationships form — similar to the one I and many others made with Corey.

The thought dawned on me that somewhere in there, someone was meeting their own Corey, maybe starting with a casual hello, maybe continuing a conversation they started earlier in the week, maybe deepening a relationship that was already at that conversation stage. It’s what makes the sports-events industry so special.

From the beginning, when SportsTravel and TEAMS were created, seeming rivals in destinations fighting for the same business have been friendly, as have the event organizers pitching that business. Many have become and continue to be true friends. It’s not clear when that line crosses from business relationship to personal relationship, but you know when you cross it.

It’s one reason many of us that night and since have been surprised at the depths of the separate relationships we all had or are learning we had with Corey Peterson. For one person, he managed to make as many relationships as anyone could possibly make. And he had a way of making you feel like yours was the only relationship he had. I’ll deeply miss his company, as will many others. But it makes me grateful for the many relationships I have in our wonderful industry, and the ones that I have yet to make.

Jason Gewirtz is vice president of the Northstar Meetings Group Sports Division and executive editor and publisher of SportsTravel. 

Several years back, my son opted to purchase EA’s FIFA video game. The decision intrigued me because he wasn’t much of a soccer fan at that point. But he thought the game looked cool and you could play as just about any team in the world — in their virtual home stadium no less.

I got into it as well, often playing on the same team with him until my apparently aggressive style caused too many star players to earn too many red cards too early in the match, which caused too much concern for my son to let me join his teams any more. He continued on, though, and got quite good at it. He also got quite good at identifying real teams, especially in the English Premier League and its lower divisions where teams fight to earn a right to compete in the top tier.

And he got to know players, too. One of his early favorites became Giorginio Rutter, whom he discovered played for Leeds United. Neither of us knew much about Leeds United, although I had vaguely heard the name in the past when people talked about soccer in England. But for my son, Leeds quickly became his team, in the video game world and, interestingly, in the real world as well.

Before we knew it, we were waking up early to watch Leeds play on the weekend, buying the ability to watch the competition off the team’s app and onto our television in Colorado. Even though Leeds had been relegated in recent years to the EFL Championship — one tier below the Premier League — my son was loyal. And when they came within a goal of moving up to the Premier League at the end of the last season, he took it in stride.

For a while, that was the extent of the fandom. But when he and my wife joined me in London a few weeks ago while I oversaw our TEAMS Europe conference, we decided to stay one extra day as a family to explore parts of London we hadn’t seen before. But my wife quickly came to the fantastic conclusion that it might be fun instead to take an adventure to wherever in the world Leeds was.

“Leeds? For the Day?”

It turns out Leeds is about two hours north of London by train. Once we began considering the idea, I asked a British friend here in the United States what he knew about the place. “Leeds?” he said. It’s fine, but it would be like someone overseas choosing to visit a mid-sized U.S. city that might not have the international profile of more popular destinations. That assessment only intrigued us more.

During TEAMS Europe, I inquired with some of our British attendees to learn more. The general reaction was similar to the first one we got. “Leeds? For the day?” Yes, Leeds, for the day. Outside of Elland Road — the home stadium for Leeds United and site of a merchandise superstore — what could we do in the city for an afternoon? A few Leeds natives in attendance gave us some great suggestions.

That’s how we found ourselves the other week boarding a train at London’s King’s Cross Station, Platform 6  — just 3 ¾ platforms away from Harry Potter’s famous embarkation point. (Which you can also visit at the station…)

Getting off the train in downtown Leeds, we booked an Uber that took less than 30 seconds to arrive. Off to Elland Road, please.

“Is there some sort of event happening there today?” our driver asked as we began the 15-minute drive out of town. “I usually get an alert when there’s something going on. There’s nothing going on today.”

“No, we just want to see the stadium.”

“You came all the way here just to do that? From America? … There’s no game today.”

Well, when you put it that way, I suppose that’s what we had done.

Despite our driver’s misgivings, he did indeed drop us off. The superstore met our expectations, with tons of merch that my son went to town on with money he had earned last winter shoveling snow for our neighbors: a hat, a sweatshirt, a scarf, a customized pin with his name and Rutter, a pair of socks and an amazing retro jersey of the 1992 squad. We took photos outside, looked at statues of players we mostly still don’t know much about, and marveled that we were standing at the place that from the outside at least, looked just like it does on the FIFA video game that had brought us there in the first place. We couldn’t talk our way into the stadium, which was undergoing some sort of internal project, but we got close enough.

And we had more to see.

A Corn Palace, Jerk Chicken and a Black Knight

From there, we went back to town to see the fabulous Corn Exchange building, constructed in the 1860s as a marketplace to trade corn kernels. Its innovative opening on the north side of the roof allowed natural sunlight in which to inspect the material. Today, the venue is filled with adorable stalls for merchants and coffee shops. It looked like the set of a period movie. We found some biscuits and jams for my brother, who we would see for his birthday after the trip.

We walked around the whole place, and then crossed the street to the Kirkgate Market, which was filled with interesting food stalls with just about every ethnic cuisine you could imagine. My son had his first taste of jerk chicken and it was a great rest stop before heading to Leeds City Square.

There, we marveled at the statue of the Black Prince. A QR code on the statue base allowed us to hear the explanation of how he was the military legend Edward of Woodstock from the 1300s, the eldest son and heir apparent of King Edward III. The Black Prince died before his father, allowing his son, Richard II, to ascend to the throne.

Next up was a 20-minute walk to the Royal Armories Museum, which like so many museums throughout England was free. There, we spent a few hours looking at armor through the years, saw a hands-on display of the substantial and decidedly less-substantial machine guns used during D-Day, marveled at the fantastic five-story Hall of Steel decorated with swords and other weapons, and shot cross bows for scores. (Turns out I’m not a bad shot…)

From there, we walked back to the train station to catch the train back to London, more than satisfied with a day of touring a city that like so many others in the world was full of surprises.

A Final Conversation

One coda on our trip. On the ride back to London, we sat in a four-seat portion of the train and were joined by a woman whom we didn’t start talking to until halfway through the two-hour journey. Realizing we were American, she asked what we were doing in Leeds. We explained the purpose of the trip only to get the now standard response: “You came all the way up here? Just to go to Leeds?”

But she was taken in by our sense of adventure. She had just come from visiting her aging parents “in the north” and it turns out she’s in the same industry of senior care that my wife is in back home. They had a terrific talk about how those industries work in each country, realizing that most people in different countries have more in common than they think. We told her about other things we had seen in Leeds (she had yet to be to the Armories Museum) and she was surprised by what we had to report and the photos we shared with her of the places we’d seen.

As the train rolled through the pretty English countryside, we talked about other things my wife and son had seen in London over the previous week, our interest in Tommy Steele, an original British rock-and-roll star whom she knew because her father had been in a band in the same era (a topic for a different column!), and where we were off to next when we returned to the United States.

And it’s of particular note that our entire travel experience began from a video game. It’s the kind of thing we talk about a lot at our EsportsTravel Summit — the power of video games and esports to draw visitation, sometimes in unexpected ways. I am positive we are not the only family that has found the benefit of tourism from this emerging industry.

But our train ride back to London — and the day overall — was everything travel is supposed to be: exploring new areas, meeting new people, trying new things, making new memories. Our day there will be a lasting memory.

Jason Gewirtz is vice president of the Northstar Meetings Group Sports Division and executive editor and publisher of SportsTravel. 

It was an eventful year to be a University of Colorado football fan. The arrival of Coach Deion Sanders and the job he did to resurrect a program that needed more than a jolt was the definition of game-changing, both on and off the field. While the team’s 4-8 record didn’t ultimately live up to the hype, there’s no doubting the impact Sanders had on the team, the program, its relevance, its coffers and the entire culture in Boulder.

As a fan and an alum, I was hoping this past season would be special. So when the Louisville Sports Commission in Kentucky put out its preseason watchlist for its annual Paul Hornung Award — given to the most versatile player in college football — I had high hopes that Sanders’ vision might yield a winner for two-way phenom Travis Hunter, who made the list. In fact, I sent Louisville Sports Commission President and CEO Greg Fante an email within minutes of getting the watchlist press release with the message that “When Travis Hunter wins, I’ll want to be front row.” Of course, this was before the team’s first game, let alone the first three games the Buffs won to send their stature into the atmosphere. At the time that watchlist came out, it was all wishful thinking and blind fandom to think that a CU player would come out on top.

Nonetheless, in the case of Hunter, it appeared from Game 1 that he was the real deal and very likely the most deserving — and certainly the most versatile — athlete in college football. In the end, he averaged 119 total snaps per game as a cornerback on defense and wide receiver on offense — the equivalent of playing two full games every week. And he excelled, recording three interceptions, 31 tackles, 57 receptions and five touchdowns, among other remarkable stats.

So when Hunter was named the Hornung winner at season’s end, it was time to deliver on the promise of going the Louisville to experience one of the biggest nights of the year for that city’s sports commission. And as luck would have it, my son, Jonas — who turned 14 days before the banquet — had that day off from school where we live in Colorado, making it possible for him to join me on the trip.

In the end, our experience was everything sports-related travel is supposed to be for an award that is also everything that sports tourism organizations should aspire to produce.

The Joys of Sports-Related Travel

Many of us in the industry have children who, depending on their interest in sports, may think we have one of the most interesting jobs in one of the most exciting industries, which is indeed the case. In the case of Jonas, his awareness or interest in what I do has started to develop relatively recently. He’s a reasonably devoted sports fan who is developing his own allegiances (a passion that’s quite sincere for the Philadelphia Eagles, for example) and a growing interest in attending live events. But there haven’t been too many opportunities to involve him in much of my business-related travel. After the pandemic, we famously took a great trip to Tennessee to see Dude Perfect perform at the Bristol Motor Speedway, a trip that was entirely for fun but started to expose him to the joys of travel to events.

For this trip, since it was a product of my beloved university being recognized, it was a bit personal as well. But there was a genuine business purpose in experiencing the Hornung Award in person having heard about it for years from the team in Louisville.

When the fates aligned to bring my son along, it made the trip even more special than it would have been otherwise. For his first trip to the city, we made sure to pack in as much as we could and were able to do that thanks to the generosity of the sports commission and its many connections in town.

The Slugger and the Champ

Our first stop was a private tour at the Louisville Slugger Museum and Factory, a venue I’d driven by on several trips to Louisville (you can’t miss that giant bat out front) but never had the chance to explore. Jonas and I got to go behind the scenes to see how the company that has produced professional baseball bats since 1884 still makes it happen. As a big baseball fan growing up (and still) I had never put much thought to what goes into producing a bat. But I will never look at bats the same way again.

Among other highlights, we got to visit the company’s bat vault, where the templates for every professional player’s bats are preserved for history. Once players settle on the bat specs they want (wood type, grip width, barrel width, overall length and weight…), the company preserves that data to produce bats for the players when they need them, or to keep a historical record of what they swung once they retire. When a member of the public asks about at a player, the museum team can look it up, go to the vault shelf and produce that player’s exact model to hold. And in the more public-facing portion of the museum, you can hold and swing an actual game-played bat from among several dozen players. Jonas chose to swing a Hank Aaron; I enjoyed holding a Darryl Strawberry slugger.

After our tour, we headed over to the city’s other quintessential downtown sports venue — the Muhammad Ali Center, named for the boxing champion and international icon who was a Louisville native. There, as an added treat, we got a tour along with Hunter and his family, Kenny Mayne (the former ESPN broadcaster who served as a keynote at the Hornung Award dinner) and CU cornerbacks coach Kevin Mathis, who as a former Dallas Cowboys star gave Jonas some playful sideways looks at his Eagles hat and sweatshirt. Hunter himself was generous with his time, even posing for a photo with us that served as yet another reminder that Jonas is now somehow just a hair under 6 feet tall, and catching up to the 6’1” Hunter any day now.

Ali was, of course, a legend, and his center in Louisville does justice to his local and international stature. There, you can learn about the man outside the ring and the endless contributions he made on social issues and justice. It’s hard not to walk away inspired, especially touring with an athlete in Hunter who will no doubt have his opportunities to inspire the next generation on and off the field as well.

A highlight of the tour was a trip to the archives, where the team pulled out just a few of the thousands of items housed there. Those items included an Ali warm-up robe with his original Cassius Clay name, a ’70s-era piece of warmup retail equipment called a Rope-a-Dope that was supposed to give you Ali-like muscles (but was nothing more than a round piece of plastic), and items that used the champ’s name legally (kids’ dolls) or illegally (pancake syrup that was supposed to pour like a champ).

The Most Versatile Player

But of course, the main event for us was the Hornung Award banquet. A word on Paul Hornung for those who don’t know the name. A Louisville native, he won the 1956 Heisman Trophy and is enshrined in the College and Pro Football Halls of Fame after a standout career with the Green Bay Packers. There, Coach Vince Lombardi called him “the most versatile man ever to play the game.”

The Louisville Sports Commission created the Hornung Award in 2010 to honor the local legend and recognize the previous season’s most versatile college football player. And the commission’s selection committee of sports journalists and former NFL stars (and one fan vote sponsored by Texas Roadhouse) has certainly picked some winners since then. In 14 years, seven of its winners have become first-round draft picks and all have played in the NFL. Many continued to be stars, including DaVonta Smith (2020), Saquon Barkley (2017), Christian McCaffery (2015) and Odell Beckham Jr. (2013).

While I had promised to be in the front row for the ceremony, we were delighted to sit in the row behind Hunter and his family, joined by the leadership of Louisville Tourism and the sports commission. (Having Louisville Tourism President and CEO Cleo Battle as a fellow CU devotee made the evening even sweeter.) As a dad, it was fun to have my son there as well for a VIP reception and the banquet itself. The event required him, however, to get some new clothes, most of which included buttons, which is certainly not his everyday wear. With a new sports coat in hand, new pants, a tie and the wearing of an actual belt, it was dress-up day for sure. But he looked great and it was a proud dad moment watching him mingle in a respectful and professional way with people he had never met before.

The banquet was first-class and a template for sports commissions looking to prove their importance and relevance to their own communities. While it serves as a fundraiser for the sports commission, it has much greater value than that. The invite for local youth football players to be in Hunter’s presence was a great touch. The sports commission also highlighted other big events, displaying the Wanamaker Trophy as Valhalla Golf Course will host the PGA Championship this year.

With 300 people in the room, leaders of the sports commission and their key local sponsors and partners hammered home the role sports play in their community, the national significance a program like the Hornung Award provides and the important role sports tourism organizations play in economic development. Kenny Mayne was a terrific keynote speaker, making a gracious toast to his former colleague ESPN Chris Mortensen (who passed away a week before the ceremony) and highlighting his own path to television, which required multiple levels of perseverance. (As a CU fan, I could have done with less of his encouraging Hunter to transfer to his alma mater at UNLV, but it seemed to be in good fun. Although in the age of NIL and transfer portals, you never know when those jokes will turn into real things…)

As for Hunter, he was humble in accepting his award, appearing on stage to be as gracious and fun-loving as he appeared to us during our tour earlier in the day at the Ali Center and with the public with which he interacted. (At the end of our Ali Center tour, a man was buying admission to the center when he looked up and instantly noticed Hunter, declared himself a CU fan and found himself in a selfie with the athlete within seconds.) Those who attended the dinner were treated to a wonderful night to honor sports in the Louisville community and its impact in the city and beyond. And when Jonas went up for a final autograph of his program, Hunter stopped and capped off our time together with a signature, a smile and some final small talk that will seem much larger to both of us as he continues his career.

A Run for the Roses

The next morning, we got one last treat with a tour from Fante to Ali’s gravesite, a tasteful honoring of the boxing great in the vast Cave Hill Cemetery, which is the final resting place for many of the city’s residents and elite alike, including another local notable, KFC’s Colonel Sanders himself.

Jonas and I even managed to squeeze in one last experience later that morning, taking in a tour of Churchill Downs. It had been several years since I’d been there for our opening night at TEAMS ’18 and the first time I have taken the official tour, which offered a great history of a race that turns 150 years old in May. To say the venue is excited about that anniversary is an understatement. While we’ve watched the Derby on television in the past, I’m positive that Jonas will have a stronger interest this year now that he’s set eyes on those twin spires in person and stood right on the rail where those horses will come down the final stretch.

And just when we thought that would be the capper on the trip, another one of the perks of regular travel presented itself when out of nowhere, we were upgraded to first-class on the flight home — Jonas’ first experience up front. It may have created a monster. While we may be able to have him experience the occasional sport event or banquet if the fates align in the years to come, he may be on his own to fly first class to experience them in the future. But for one glorious afternoon, he was able to enjoy an orange juice in an actual glass, a warm meal with a warm roll, and someone to wait on his every need. It was a first-class end to a first-class weekend filled with instant memories.

What It’s All About

The bottom line on our travels was that the entire experience was made possible by a forward-thinking organization in the Louisville Sports Commission. It’s a testament to them and others like them in the space that they have found a way to use their own local love of sports to create a national profile with their Hornung Award. Their awards banquet not only reinforced their own impact on the local community by highlighting their daily work creating and supporting meaningful events. It also proves that destinations like Louisville can raise their national profile through sports — a constant and valuable reminder for destinations of all sizes.

For me, the chance to expose my son to the joys of sports-related travel with an experience he will not soon forget is equally important. After his weekend in Louisville as a first-time visitor, he’ll no doubt become an instant ambassador for a city that showed off its best. And in the end, that epitomizes the best of what sports-related travel can be.

Jason Gewirtz is vice president of the Northstar Meetings Group Sports Division and executive editor and publisher of SportsTravel. 

The most recent wave of collegiate conference realignment has been unsettling for sports fans in general, but even more so for the fans of the specific teams on the move.

The recent raid of Pac-12 teams by the likes of the Big Ten and Big 12 hit home with special resonance for me when my own alma mater — the University of Colorado — made one of the first moves. On the surface, my school’s move to the Big 12 didn’t have a terribly emotional effect. When I attended school there and marched in the band (where I met my wife), CU was in the former Big 8, and a powerhouse at that. Road games for us were to Lawrence, Kansas, and Stillwater, Oklahoma, among others. A move back to the Big 12 brought back some fond memories of the CU teams we rooted for as students, when it all seemed to mean even more.

Still, when the Buffs left the original Big 12 in 2011 for the newly formed Pac-12, I was all in on the move. The primary reason had nothing to do with tradition. It had everything to do with starting a new one.

My younger brother, Eric, is a proud alum of Arizona State. Before Colorado joined what was then the Pac-10, I supported ASU by nature of my brother’s allegiance. And heck, our teams had almost no chance of playing each other, so who cared? Go Sun Devils!

But when our schools suddenly became opponents in what became the Pac-12 South, things changed. A rivalry was born.

And like all great rivalries, this one needed a trophy if it was going to be worth anything at all.

Birth of a Tradition

“I got it,” my brother mentioned to me shortly after the Pac-12 was born.

“You got what?” I recall asking him.

“I got a trophy.”

Indeed, he had. And not just any trophy. He had somehow commissioned a glorious monument to a football game that only two people on the planet could care anything about on a go-forward basis. The trophy was also way more than it needed to be. It was essentially a large champagne bucket with handles sitting atop a wood base. But the kicker was the plaque commemorating its official name on its base: The Colorado/Arizona State Nabholz/Unck Memorial Cup Presented by Vincent’s Pizza.

Even die-hard fans of CU and ASU would be forgiven for not getting the reference. Jeff Nabholz was my favorite player at CU in what started as a bit of a joke but evolved into something real. Nabholz played here and there on special teams, but his time on the bench right in front of the band allowed us plenty of opportunity to watch him interact with players and get excited when he got on the field. My wife and I adopted him as our unsung hero. And on a road game to Lawrence when CU played Kansas in 1994, we held up a sign for him, which caught the eye of his parents who were at the game, which caused us to meet him in person on the field after a CU victory. He couldn’t have been nicer. A legend was born. (Do I also own a No. 54 Colorado jersey with “Nabholz” on the back? I won’t answer that … )

Mason Unck held a similar lore for my brother during his time at ASU. He was the unsung hero that my brother adopted as his own. He may not have been the team’s biggest star, but his name alone was begging to be on some kind of trophy. He was a natural and well-deserving counterpart to have his name commemorated on some hardware.

As for Vincent’s Pizza, that’s our favorite pizza joint in Albertson, New York, near where we grew up on Long Island. In the sweetest deal in the history of sports sponsorship, we granted Vincent’s the naming rights in perpetuity.

A Parade Down the Cul-De-Sac

Now that we had a trophy, the standing rule was for the loser to mail the cup to the winner depending on which team won the game each fall. With Eric in New York and me in Colorado, this became way more expensive than it needed to be. But these are the things sports fans do for their teams.

It’s hard to admit this, but the mailing wasn’t much of an issue for a while. While my family was graciously given the trophy to start as a goodwill gesture during a holiday gift exchange before the series began, ASU won the first five games against CU, meaning we went years without the cup at our house. But when CU finally pulled it together in 2016, a 40–16 win in Boulder, it was one of the greatest nights of our lives. When the trophy arrived, we arranged a parade on our cul-de-sac, where our neighbors had bought into the rivalry as well. My wife and I brought out our band instruments (drums for me, tuba for her) and we had ourselves a parade on the street.

But we didn’t stop there.

Calling in a favor from a former newspaper colleague who now works at CU, the trophy and I went up to Boulder after the win and toured the athletic department. There was our trophy next to Rashaan Salaam’s Heisman. There it was with the championship trophy from CU’s 1990 season. There was our trophy at the top of Folsom Field with the Flatirons in the background. The trophy even made it across the city and into the foothills west of Boulder for some B-roll that I still drop on social media at appropriate times. It was glorious.

Of course, CU eventually lost and the trophy was shipped back to New York. Eric took plenty of B-roll of his own with his team’s mascot, Sparky, peeking out with his sinister smile from the top. His kids enjoyed taking photos with the cup and taunting us good-naturedly on video calls with the trophy positioned ever so in the background.

When the cup came back to us a few years later, we upped the stakes with another parade. This time, our neighbor, Jim, offered his convertible and we made our next-door neighbor, Laura Ellen, our grand marshal (with her daughter attending CU at the time). Laura Ellen sat on the trunk with the top of Jim’s convertible down, waving to those who joined the parade route around the cul-de-sac on their lawns. The trophy came behind, pulled on a Radio Flyer wagon. Kids followed the procession on bikes. More drums, more tuba. It was the best.

Cross Country Hand-Wringing

All of this is to say that when reports surfaced in late July that Colorado might leave the Pac-12 for the Big 12, there was more than a bit of hand-wringing in two households in Colorado and New York.

“Here we go?” I texted Eric when the first reports of CU’s potential departure surfaced.

“Oh no!!!!” was the reply.

The reality started sinking in for us both. Early reports said ASU might still join the Big 12, along with their actual rival Arizona and Utah. But nothing was guaranteed other than Colorado looked like they were about to be gone, and along with it the likely end to a brilliant tradition.

The next day, my phone pinged again. It was Eric, concerned about a particular implication of the trophy: “If CU bolts, and ASU doesn’t — I’m not sure how to break the news to our trophy sponsor.”

“That’s the least of our troubles with the trophy,” came my reply, a realization that if one team left and the other stayed, this year’s game would be the end of the line — with the winner keeping the trophy virtually forever.

That night, CU made it official: They were leaving.

“And so it is…” came the text from New York, followed: “Alas…” “Sigh…” “I’m SO not okay with this.”

The feeling was mutual. I was relieved my school had made its move to stay relevant in the new college football landscape, but as a fan of one particular game that appeared wiped off the annual calendar, it was heart-wrenching.

Then, less than a week later, another text:

“Arizona board of regents just called an emergency meeting for tomorrow. This could be a vote for both public universities to leave Pac-12”

“There we go!” came my reply. “Looks like Oregon and Washington are off to the Big Ten. I think this is it.”

“How crazy is all this!?!?”

“Total madness!”

More texts copying tweets from national pundits came from Eric.

“This is it,” came one tweet from a national writer. “ASU and Arizona are very close to exiting the Pac-whatever.”

“Amazing,” came my reply. “So much respect for the trophy. That’s the real story.”

And it was … until it wasn’t.

Arizona was for sure leaving for the Big 12 by the end of the day, the school announced. Arizona State? Not yet. It was a night of fitful sleep.

When morning came, the news was not good. ESPN reported: “Oregon not expected to join the Big Ten, which could persuade Arizona to end potential deal with Big 12.”

No Arizona, no Arizona State. No ASU-CU rivalry. No more need for a cup. No more parades. No more amusing video calls with the trophy positioned just so in the background.

But as we know, within hours, the reports proved untrue. And on August 4, everything played out to its inevitable conclusion: Oregon did join the Big Ten, along with Washington. By mid-afternoon the Arizona schools and Utah were joining Colorado in the Big 12. Games back on. For good. (Or at least until all the new TV contracts end and more realignment changes the picture again years down the road.)

“I prayed to sparky and my desires were met!” came the text.

“Yes!!! If college football has to be a complete mess,” I replied, “at least we’re in it together!”

The Emotional Cost

For my brother and I, it was a sense of relief. We can now continue to spend inordinate amounts of money shipping an oversized trophy to each other’s houses (although when we organized TEAMS ’21 in Atlantic City, New Jersey, and ASU won the weekend before, I did hand-deliver the thing to Eric’s house on Long Island, which really should become the new standard of delivery … )

Yet we know we’re not alone in having to ride the rollercoaster of emotions that have played out for fans everywhere the last few weeks, and will still play out when more teams inevitably move. While these moves are made with major financial implications for the universities involved, lost in the shuffle is the emotional and quite real toll these decisions make on the fans — emotions built on years of history. Those emotions also have a value that is hard to quantify, or at least harder to quantify than the checks the schools will get from their new television deals. But they, too, have a cost.

I feel deep sympathy for those distraught over the loss of the Oklahoma–Oklahoma State Bedlam series next year. Same for Oregon–Oregon State and their Platypus trophy. No Apple Cup for Washington–Washington State? The loss seems hard to imagine, and is no doubt devastating for those fans.

Those all may be more historic rivalries, but for my brother and I, the battle for the Colorado/Arizona State Nabholz/Unck Memorial Cup Presented by Vincent’s Pizza is held in no less regard.

And we still have the trophy to prove it.

Jason Gewirtz is vice president of the Northstar Meetings Group Sports Division and executive editor and publisher of SportsTravel. He is hoping this year will bring a return of the most coveted trophy in collegiate athletics.

I spend a lot of time thinking about youth sports. Most of that is in my capacity as executive editor and publisher of SportsTravel. I recently celebrated 15 years with the magazine, a journey that has been and remains a delight, and one that has brought me to plenty of youth sports events over the years.

Ironically, I don’t spend a ton of time on youth sports in my own home, even though my son recently turned 13. He’s certainly participated in his share of sports over the years: He played and enjoyed soccer for several seasons, tried some baseball, and got hooked for a while on taekwondo before the pandemic’s isolation caused him to lose interest. Now that he’s 13, he’s developing other interests outside of organized sports and we’re letting him go where those interests take him, making sure he at least gets a golf club, tennis racket or Wiffle Ball bat in his hands from time to time.

I recognize that for many families, the path to organized sports continues along — and gets more challenging as it goes. But the confluence of a recent academic conference, a tour of a youth sports complex and conversations with work colleagues has me thinking even more about youth sports. And it comes at an opportune time as we have made efforts at Northstar Meetings Group and SportsTravel to help further the conversation. A key component of that was the multi-year agreement we recently announced with the National Council of Youth Sports to partner with us at the TEAMS Conference on youth sports education and advocacy.

Our agreement with NCYS was announced days after I spent two days in Colorado Springs at the Aspen Institute’s excellent Project Play Summit, where the think tank convened youth sports experts from around the country to talk about the biggest challenges and opportunities ahead. That was followed the next day by a tour of a massive new youth sports complex under construction in the small town of Windsor, Colorado — a project indicative of the need for quality venues. And in between, I had the chance to chat with two Northstar colleagues who happen to be parents whose kids are actively traveling for sports — including one family starting its journey — which put everything else I heard and saw into perfect perspective.

‘Very Hard To Not Do One Thing’

The Project Play Summit was an exercise in numbers and emotions.

First, the numbers. At several sessions, you just couldn’t miss them.

The Aspen Institute put out a challenge to the audience of youth sports experts: to have 63.3 percent of kids playing sports by 2030, the standard that the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services has set.

On the surface, the trends look good. According to Utah State University Professor Travis Dorsch, who presented at the conference, 90 percent of kids will participate in sports at some point. But those stats can be misleading. Only one of four kids currently meets weekly physical activity goals, he said.

And City University of New York Professor Bruce Y. Lee offered some auxiliary benefits of youth sports participation: If 63.3 percent of kids were active in sports, there would be a 4.2 percent reduction in obesity, 157,700 fewer cases of coronary heart disease later in life and $23.8 billion in reduced medical expenses.

The stats all point to the need to get even more kids active in sports. And if they can get active and involved in organized sports, there is no doubt they will benefit from participating.

One of the most compelling sessions of the entire conference was a panel of kids talking about what they love and don’t love about organized sports. It’s a simple concept that came up again and again: We should be listening — really, actively listening — to the perspective that youth have not just on the experience of playing but what’s working and not working for them in the ecosystem, even if the word “ecosystem” is one they’ll never utter or think about when they play.

Pepper Persley, a 12-year-old aspiring journalist who participates in multiple sports (basketball, softball, plus a black belt in taekwondo) hit on one of the main challenges in youth sports: How do we encourage kids to try different things and not feel pressure to specialize in only one sport at an early age, a phenomenon that research and anecdotal evidence suggests can lead to injuries and burnout? The problem? The youth sports ecosystem, including the time requirements for practice or pressures to make a traveling team, can make it hard not to specialize.

“I have a lot of things on my plate,” Persley said. “It makes it very hard to not do one thing. I would love it if teams see that there were other options. It’s important for kids not to be selective.” At the end, she added: “We’ve struggled to find a team that supports everything I do,” meaning that it’s hard to find a league in one sport that will give her the space to try another one.

Future Legends as the Future?

I had Persley’s comments in the back of my mind the next day, when I took a tour of a massive new youth sports complex emerging along the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains, about an hour north of Denver in the small town of Windsor. From miles away, you can already see the enormous inflatable roof of the complex’s indoor venue at the Future Legends complex. But it’s a sign of what’s still to come.

When it’s finished next year, the 118-acre Future Legends will have 12 baseball diamonds, 12 multi-use fields, a 6,500-seat stadium that will host a professional baseball and soccer team, a 2,500-seat stadium, 16 outdoor pickleball courts, four sand volleyball courts and a Miracle field. That’s on top of the four-acre domed indoor complex that can accommodate 16 volleyball courts and four basketball courts. There will also be a 10,000-square-foot esports arena with seating of up to 1,000 in the final phase. But of particular note are the parts of the development that are not fields: Two hotels are under construction (a Hilton Garden Inn and a Hampton Inn the complex will own), as well as a dormitory that can house 64 traveling teams. And perhaps most important, there will be 14 restaurant pads on site, 13 of which have already been contracted.

Casey Katofsky, the executive director of the complex, took me on a tour of the site, which is a work in progress. The inflatable dome is already hosting indoor events (more than 500 people, mostly adults, are already paying a monthly fee to play pickleball on the indoor courts). The smaller of the stadiums has opened as well, serving as home to the baseball and soccer teams until the larger stadiums opens. But you can see the eventual scope and the efforts being made to give players a complete experience.

“Our main goal is to provide a newer, unprecedented type of experience that combines the tourism and hospitality element with the actual sports themselves,” Katofsky said.

The hotels and the restaurants caught my eye as much as the incredible fields of play that will be built. For some context, the entire town of Windsor, which sits east of I-25 south of Fort Collins, currently has only one hotel. Soon it will have three — with two of them part of the sports complex. And the restaurants will allow teams and families the options to have a complete experience without needing to leave campus.

“Having the dormitories, the hotels on site, the restaurants on site, you’re building a mini city for youth sports,” Katofsky said. “People don’t have to travel 40 minutes away to the nearest hotel or the nearest restaurant. So all this combines into creating a newer, unique experience that we hope becomes the new norm for the youth sports travel market.”

Katofsky and his team also seem to have the right perspective on the youth sports experience, knowing when it comes to wins and losses, most of the kids and families who come to play at his venue will be in the latter category.

“If parents have two to three weeks of vacation an entire year, they’re spending it all here or they’re spending it all in another complex just like this,” he said. “So it has to be fun. If we have a 64-team tournament, I have 63 teams walking home not winning the tournament. They need to have a good time.”

Youth Sports From the Parent’s Perspective

This notion of needing to have a good time was a good reminder that we are of course talking about kids, and they don’t all need to turn into professional athletes.

This point was underscored a few days later in an enlightening conversation with two Northstar colleagues, Sally Braley and Michael Shapiro. Sally and Michael are both longtime Northstar Meetings Group editors and — for the purposes of this story — parents with kids actively involved in youth sports. It dawned on me to chat with them after seeing a social media post Michael had made about his son’s first sports-related travel experience at a soccer tournament and knowing that Sally’s two children — one of whom is in college now — have played for years with her help along the way as team manager and travel consultant.

How would they describe their experiences at different points along their families’ youth sports journeys?

Let’s start with Michael, who lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan. His 14-year-old son recently competed in his first travel soccer tournament, which had his team playing games about 40 minutes away in the towns of Novi, Wixom and Milford.

It was the family’s first time traveling for a tournament and it wasn’t exactly what they anticipated, at least for this first time out. For starters, it was surprising to them that the games in this particular event were played in three different cities and on fields that lacked the atmosphere to suggest this was an actual tournament.

“I did assume there would be a large complex with a few fields where we would play,” he said. “I was surprised that wasn’t the case.”

Another immediate observation having followed his son to this point: The inconsistency of coaching as you move from team to team. “From what I can tell so far, it’s not incredibly consistent in terms of the quality of coaching. It depends on what you get. These are the things I’m learning now.”

Sally, however, has seen it all. Her daughter, who is now 20, started playing club soccer when she was 7. Her son started traveling at age 7 as well on a U8 soccer team. He’s now 17. Over the years, Sally, who lives in New Jersey, has played a number of roles, including master scheduler and hotel booker, a process made easier with Team Snap and other similar apps. Her kids have been playing for years and never had serious interest in anything other than soccer.

“If one of them had asked me, ‘Could I stop playing soccer and play something else,’ and if they had really meant it, we would have said sure. But they’ve been so gung-ho playing soccer.”

Michael is just entering those discussions with his son, who has talked about playing travel baseball as well. “It’s very difficult,” he said. “They’re both extremely demanding on time and schedules.”

Issues With Overzealous Parents

Another point they brought up: The unsightly parts of youth sports when it comes to overzealous parents.

Sally has seen some parents at their absolute worst at events. “As a manager,” she said, “I took it upon myself to calm parents down. We’ve had some parents that are very vocal. Some don’t come anymore because they know they’re too volatile at this point.”

It’s a topic that came up at the Project Play Summit, which included the announcement that the U.S. Center for SafeSport was launching an Emotional and Physical Abuse Toolkit to identify and respond to such behavior. A panel discussion with the center’s chief executive officer, Ju’Riese Colon, and US Youth Soccer Chief Executive Officer Skip Gilbert underscored the severity of this issue.

I know that life in the stands has been rough over the years and getting rougher. But this anecdote that Gilbert offered was a jaw-dropper: “At our national championship alone, I was spit on, I was slapped and luckily I was quick enough to dodge a punch,” Gilbert said. “Three soccer moms were involved in altercations after the game. It’s systemic.”

“At our national championship alone, I was spit on, I was slapped and luckily I was quick enough to dodge a punch.”
—Skip Gilbert, US Youth Soccer

The cost of youth sports, Gilbert said, is also contributing to the problem: “Given the costs of playing, parents often confuse that they are the general manger, they can dress down the kids in the car, they can go after the referee, they can go after the coach, they can do whatever they want so their kid at the age of 8 can get a Division I scholarship.”

Colon’s advice on diffusing this particular negative of the youth sports experience was to do what Sally has done — intervene. “The one piece we don’t focus on is the bystander,” she said. “A big part of how we change systemic culture is more people need to stand up and say, ‘Don’t do that.’”

The Benefits of Youth Sports

The need to reverse the course on unruly parents and coaches was one of many areas the Aspen Institute is focused on resolving. And there are plenty of other challenges with the youth sports ecosystem. The cost remains prohibitive for too many, raising equity concerns. Injuries are up in many cases (Sally’s daughter can attest — she’s one of many youth athletes that has already had an ACL injury). There remains a disconnect across the ecosystem about how to coordinate basic components of youth sports to benefit kids, from discouraging them to specialize early to taking the pressure off too many to ascend to the professional levels.

And yet the benefits of youth sports are out there in the open for all to see and hopefully to experience.

Katofsky at the Future Legends complex sees those benefits, even though the venue’s name itself might imply some lofty standards for the kids who play there. Whatever the situation, the complex, he said, will have something for everyone. “We want to have tee-ball, we want to have people that have never picked up a bat before. We want to have people that are parents that want to learn how to play pickleball and beach volleyball and adult softball and whatever that might be. We want to be as accessible to everybody as we can.”

For Sally, the positives of her kids competing in youth sports have far outweighed any negatives, which for her, when asked, have included rising hotel room costs, the costs of entry to tournaments and the risk of injury. “My support for them doing it comes naturally,” she said, noting she played tennis growing up as well. “I think for them or anyone who plays, it’s so formative. I love the friends they’ve made. I love what they’ve learned about people from the whole process. I loved how their skills enhanced and how their confidence changed. Overall, I think it’s been a magnificent experience.”

And while his family is just starting the travel experience, Michael feels the same way. He sees the positives for his son playing organized sports and learning how to be part of a team.

“I’m seeing those benefits and I’m glad we’re doing it,” he said. “In terms of what’s next, it’s constant evaluation about what you’re getting out of the experience.”

“In terms of what’s next, it’s constant evaluation about what you’re getting out of the experience.”
—Michael Shapiro, Northstar Meetings Group

Indeed, the experience is key. For parents, that includes listening to their kids and paying attention to how they can make that experience the most positive one it can be. For organizations, it’s a lot of the same. And for venues like Future Legends, it’s finding ways to allow for opportunities and create experiences for everyone, not just the teams that can afford to be there.

And at SportsTravel and our TEAMS Conference, the notion of constant evaluation is top of mind as well. It’s one of many reasons we continue to put a spotlight on the issue of youth sports through partnerships like the one with the National Council of Youth Sports.

There is no questioning the benefits of youth sports. But for them to continue to be beneficial, it will take considerably more thought and cooperation to get as many kids having as many positive experiences as possible.

Jason Gewirtz is vice president of the Northstar Meetings Group Sports Division and executive editor and publisher of SportsTravel.

Sports play a vital economic role for destinations looking to attracting visitors. They also, in their finest moments, provide inspiring examples of humanity at its best.

Over the weekend of July 29–30 in Ames and Des Moines, Iowa, two events — one amateur, one professional — spoke to each of those aspects. They also served as a reminder of the importance that sports play to help cities craft an identity, to inspire people of all ages to stay active, and to encourage others to explore new parts of the world they’ve never experienced.

That was the case for me on what was my first visit to both destinations despite years of traveling for sports events. The events that eventually brought me to the Hawkeye State were the State Games of America, a massive amateur and youth event held across 30 venues mostly in Ames, and the Dew Tour, a world-class skateboarding competition at what is now the largest skatepark in the country in Des Moines.

And in the end, witnessing an incredible act of sportsmanship was the perfect capper on the best attributes that the sports-events industry have to offer.

‘Big in a Number of Ways’

I was familiar with the State Games movement from our long partnership with the National Congress of State Games, which has organized its annual symposium in conjunction with our TEAMS Conference since 2016. The State Games of America, held mostly in Ames with some events including swimming and figure skating held in downtown Des Moines, were initially planned for 2021 but were pushed back a year because of COVID-19.

This was my first experience seeing the event, in which the Iowa Games — one of the leaders in the State Games movement — took a lead role in organizing competition for visitors from 46 states, the U.S. Virgin Islands and even Canada.

The State Games of America are held biannually and are open to those who medal at their individual state games. But all participants from local states can automatically qualify, making the Iowa contingent the largest in the competition. Still, the amount of out-of-state visitation could literally be marked on the map, where participants were able to pin their hometowns for all to see at the athlete registration area inside Jack Trice Stadium on the campus of Iowa State University.

Here’s a quick look at the State Games of America by the numbers: 17,000 athletes, coaches and family members participated; 2,000 athletes came from 142 teams in soccer alone, mostly at the youth level; 600 athletes competed in track, including the oldest in the competition — an 88-year-old from Iowa — and the youngest, a boy and girl at just 4 years old. While traditional sports like soccer and track were on the schedule, so were considerably nontraditional sports like light saber and professional yoga, which allowed the Games to offer something for everyone.

The event was a coup for Ames from a destination marketing perspective, said Kevin Bourke, the president and CEO of the recently rebranded Discover Ames, whom I caught up with before the Opening Ceremony.

“It’s big in a number of ways,” Bourke said of the event. “Obviously, we want to put heads in beds, we want to bring in visitors. The thing about the State Games of America compared to the Iowa Games, is it’s not bringing in just Iowans. It’s bringing in out-of-staters. It is just so exciting to see them come here. We’re all about economic development. We’re also about trying to get people to move here ultimately. Are they? Who knows? The majority of them no. But we want them to leave with a good impression.”

The Cauldron is Lit

To that end, organizers staged a memorable Opening Ceremony at Hilton Coliseum on the campus of Iowa State with the feel of the Olympic Games, or at least as close to that experience as most competitors will ever get. It was a terrific event that featured a parade of states similar to the Olympic Games (as host state, Iowa got to march in last…), a cauldron lighting and fun and quirky facts of each state as they entered the arena. (Did you know the first traffic light in the United States was installed in Ohio? Now you know…)

The ceremony featured a keynote from Matt Stutzman, who won the World Para Archery Championships in February. Stutzman, whose hometown is Fairfield, Iowa, was born without arms and competes with his legs. His message of adapting to his circumstances and succeeding hit the perfect tone for the proceedings.

Similar to the Olympic Games, athletes, coaches and parents took an oath, pledging to compete fairly and encourage good sportsmanship. It seemed a quaint exercise but also a reminder that sometimes at the amateur and youth level, those involved need a refresher to play fair and be nice. It also seemed in line with the message of the State Games movement itself, which annually allows hundreds of thousands of everyday people the opportunity to compete in the sports they love with the best intentions.

“Kids are specializing younger and younger and the State Games movement has always been about grassroots level competition,” said Bourke, who spent over 20 years at the Iowa Games as chief operating officer before joining Discover Ames in 2019. “The first time my daughter ever competed in a golf tournament was an Iowa Games event. She was scared and she was nervous. For her to go do a Junior PGA event, she wouldn’t have done it. But the Iowa Games was less intimidating, it was more grassroots. Bringing in the State Games of America, it’s a higher level because we’re bringing in out-of-staters. But we’re raising awareness of what the Iowa Games stands for as well. Anybody can compete.”

Dew Tour Youth Movement

While anybody can compete in the State Games, professional skateboarding is another thing entirely. And on the other end of the sports spectrum over the same weekend was the Dew Tour at the sparkling new Lauridsen Skatepark in downtown Des Moines.

The Dew Tour may have been a professional event, but it could count as a youth sports event as well. That’s because the event’s final night of competition saw victories in women’s street by 14-year-old Momiji Nishiya from Japan (who at 13 won Olympic gold last year in Tokyo) and in men’s park by 15-year-old Gavin Bottger, an American and the youngest competitor in the discipline.

That the event was even in Des Moines is an incredible story of how investment in sports infrastructure can mean investment in destination marketing. After a 10-year effort, the Lauridsen Skatepark along the banks of the Des Moines River in downtown opened just last year. Its first event was last year’s Dew Tour, which also served as an Olympic qualifier for athletes headed to Tokyo, where skateboarding saw its Olympics debit.

The tour returned again this year after years of being in Long Beach, California, which on the surface would seem the better cultural fit. But the skatepark in Des Moines has proved that skateboarding can be a cultural fit anywhere. And the crowds that lined the course for the free-admission event (the Dew Tour reported about 24,000 attendees) were a testament to that fact, especially during a busy summer season in Des Moines.

“I’m from a small town myself and to be able to have this in the Midwest is cool. I think it’s a good blueprint for other cities to look at and see how it’s shaped the community.”
—Skater Sean Malto

I caught up with Greg Edwards, longtime president and CEO of Catch Des Moines, on the final day of competition, which saw thousands of visitors line the grassy banks of the river and participate in a robust vendor marketplace. Edwards said the park and the Dew Tour have changed the conversation about the sport locally.

“It boosts a lot of community pride,” he said. “Even folks who are not into skateboarding, they talk about it. There’s a big buzz around the community, it’s on the news channels. It’s pretty cool.”

Sports events make up 40 percent of Catch Des Moines’ group business, Edwards said, and the skatepark is now adding to that effort.

“It’s very meaningful,” he said of the event. “The leadership of the community had the vision to build this to help the community, to help the kids in the community. And with what we do bringing in events, we saw the light come on right away, and said it’s an opportunity for us to attract some new events. Skateboarding is a niche market. Not everyone’s into it. But it’s been wonderful for us, wonderful for our community, wonderful for people around the world who have finally seen Des Moines and said, ‘Wow, we had no idea corn country was this cool.’”

Athletes Notice Investment

Skateboarders have noticed as well.

“It’s definitely a random place for the biggest skatepark to be,” said Sean Malto. “But it’s a beautiful skatepark right on the river and the city is great. I’m from a small town myself and to be able to have this in the Midwest is cool. I think it’s a good blueprint for other cities to look at and see how it’s shaped the community.”

Chris Colbourn, another professional skater, noted that it’s great to have the Olympics to shoot for in addition to events like the Dew Tour. But he was astute enough to recognize that the sport’s Olympics inclusion has another potential benefit for host cities.

“It’s just cool that the Olympics now accepts skateboarding,” he said. “It paves the way for towns like Des Moines to build giant skateparks. lt’s giving the cities more reason to fund giant skateparks like this one here.”

An Act of Sportsmanship

And skateboarding itself is a wonderful reminder of how great sports can be.

The Dew Tour athletes didn’t need to take an oath to commit to good sportsmanship, although I’m sure they would have if they were asked. It is in their DNA. These are professional athletes who give their equipment out to adoring fans without any effort, as I witnessed when Steven Breeding offered his helmet to a fan after the incredible adaptive park skateboard event. (Breeding does not have a right arm.)

Following the women’s street event, when the medalists came to accept their hardware, the 14-year-old Nishiya and third place finisher — Chloe Covell, from Australia, age 12 — began playing around with each other, mocking a martial arts competition to see who could touch whom first. It was the type of behavior that just as easily could have happened with the kids on the soccer field at the State Games in Ames, and served as a reminder that these professionals are not just kids at heart, they are just kids — albeit kids who are the best in the world at what they do.

And in the men’s park competition later that night, the final run was set to determine the champion, with Olympic gold medalist Keegan Palmer (age 19) executing what to a novice fan appeared to be enough to take first place. As he stood by a monitor to see if his score would be enough to beat an earlier spectacular run by Bottger, I had my camera lens focused on Palmer to get his reaction. I was so focused on taking a shot of his winning reaction that I was pleased when he raised a triumphant fist, flashed a smile and began celebrating when the score posted.

It wasn’t until a minute later that I realized Palmer hadn’t won. He finished third despite his amazing run. His reaction was genuine — genuine excitement that his friend Bottger had beat him with a better run and won the competition.

That’s sportsmanship at its very best. And it was a perfect way to cap a weekend in Iowa that reminded me of the power that sports can have not just on the cities and venues that host them, but on the people who participate and experience them as well.

Jason Gewirtz is vice president of the Northstar Meetings Group Sports Division and executive editor and publisher of SportsTravel.

The email arrived in my inbox about six weeks ago with the intriguing subject line: “Chaos at the Colosseum.”

The message was from Bristol Motor Speedway, a venue I’ve been fascinated by for years (enough to be on their email list at least) but had never had the chance to visit. So right away I was curious. And then I saw two words that made me click the link: Dude Perfect.

If you’re not an 11-year-old boy or the parent of an 11-year-old boy you may not be familiar with Dude Perfect. They are five guys from Texas who for years have been YouTube sensations, posting videos of themselves performing sports tricks, any number of sports-related stunts and other scripted skits. They have 50 million subscribers and their videos have been viewed 13 billion times. (Let that sink in for a moment.) My 11-year-old son, Jonas, thinks these guys are the best. He won’t purposefully sit down to watch a baseball game like I would have at his age, but he’ll watch hours of Dude Perfect doing their thing, usually in convenient 5- or 10-minute videos snippets.

So, when I read more about Chaos at the Colosseum, my radar went up. Whatever this event was, it promised performances from the DP guys, the potential to interact with them at a VIP meet-and-greet, supercross stunts, monster trucks, drifting cars and — somehow — a demolition derby. All in Bristol, Tennessee, at one of NASCAR’s legendary tracks. And over Father’s Day weekend no less.

Perhaps more importantly, it also promised a return to events and the opportunity to travel, something I had yet to do in earnest since the pandemic began.

“What do you think of this?” I asked my wife, showing her the email on the down-low, gauging her thoughts on a potential trip for me and my son.

“Oh,” she said, “you should totally do this.”

***

That’s how Jonas and I found ourselves last weekend in Tennessee for what turned out to be a fantastic sports adventure, and one that may well define what the next generation of fans will want to see and experience when they travel.

We waited until the night before the trip to tell Jonas where I was taking him and what we’d be doing. You can imagine his reaction. I tried thinking back to what the equivalent dream experience would have been when I was 11 had I been offered something like that. Maybe a trip to the MLB All-Star Game or the Super Bowl? For Jonas, seeing and meeting the guys from Dude Perfect was that big a deal.

Like other kids his age, Jonas of course has an interest in more traditional sports. Since he’s a bit of a birder, he’s become a rabid fan of the Philadelphia Eagles even though we live in Denver and he probably couldn’t point Philadelphia out on a map. When I told him our Dude Perfect trip would involve a layover in Dallas, he insisted on wearing his Eagles jersey, his Eagles cap, his Eagles backpack and green socks on the flight. I told him not to talk to anyone at the airport.

But the conversation on the way there more or less focused on the YouTube stars since I went ahead and splurged for the VIP meet-and-greet. (That one was my wife’s idea: “You can’t go all the way there and not meet them,” she said, reasonably.) What would Jonas ask when he met them? What would they say to us? How long would we have with them? What would the show be like?

After an airline experience that was smoother than whatever I had expected (masks on for everyone, adequate announcements about what type of behavior was expected, even a sanitizing wipe handed to us for our seats), we eventually landed  in Kingsport, Tennessee, the closest major city to Bristol.

I had rented an economy car since we didn’t think we’d be going too far. It was supposed to be a Chevy Spark or equivalent, whatever a Chevy Spark is. But when we got to the counter, we were offered only a high-end Jeep Wrangler or a Dodge Charger for the same price, one of those unexpected joys of traveling that sometimes happens and a feeling I had completely forgotten about these past 18 months or so. I left the choice to Jonas; He chose the Jeep. When went out to see the car, it was a lovely vehicle. But that deep red Dodge Charger — a Daytona no less — with the word “HEMI” across the front and only 1,300 miles on the odometer was almost literally speaking to us. “We should get the Charger,” Jonas said quietly, a blank look on his face.

I was already two steps ahead of him back to the terminal.

A thrust of our HEMI engine later and we were off to explore Kingsport a bit, including the fantastic Braeden’s Barbecue that had been recommended to me by Frank Lett from Visit Kingsport. It did not disappoint. Our night was spent at the Marriott MeadowView Conference Resort, which itself has been the host of events including a recent stop on the World Long Drive Tour.

***

The next morning, we had some time to kill before the evening show. And we had an amazing set of wheels with which to explore. For breakfast we headed to Knoxville, which is also no stranger to sports events. In fact, that same weekend it was hosting the USA Cycling Pro Road Championships.

After a decadent breakfast at Olibea’s with my cousin who recently moved to the city, we caught up with Chad Culver and Parker Medley at Visit Knoxville and ran into Tara McCarthy at USA Cycling, who was preparing for that night’s criterium. The staging was set for an incredible race, one that was returning after the 2020 event, like so many others, was canceled because of the pandemic.

Knoxville was ready to shine that night and we would have loved to have stayed. But we had a track to visit.

That afternoon we pulled up to Bristol. Frank had warned me that the track will seem to come out of nowhere. And sure enough, it does. Rising from the ground to a tremendous height, the speedway makes a statement just by its presence.

We got in a few hours before the event for our VIP meet-and-greet, which required accessing the infield at Bristol through a tunnel under the track. Emerging from that tunnel to see “The Last Great Colosseum” in its entirety, from the middle of it all, was not unlike my first experience as a kid at Yankee Stadium emerging from the tunnel at my first sports event. It was overwhelming and impressive.

Opened in 1961, Bristol is only a half-mile around, which is impossibly small by NASCAR standards. And its complete seating around each turn allows for up to 160,000 people to be there, serving as the inspiration for the track’s moniker. It’s center-hung “Colossus” scoreboard is also the largest of its kind in the world. I’ve been to other big venues, of course. The Rose Bowl comes to mind. This felt like half the size of the Rose Bowl because of the small track and yet somehow twice the size with all those seats. It’s hard to comprehend.

But we didn’t have time to gawk. We had celebrities to meet.

Before long, we were inside one of the infield buildings for the chance to meet the guys from Dude Perfect. As we got closer, I could tell Jonas was nervous. It’s not every day you get to meet famous people, especially ones you are so familiar with from your television screen (or your phone screen, I suppose). Jonas didn’t just know them all. He knew their handlers, who sometimes appear in the videos as well. When someone named Sparky was the last to talk to us before we got our moment with the stars, Jonas knew him, too.

When it was our turn, the guys were great. They project the vibe of five longtime friends having fun competing in their videos and they seemed that way in real life. One of the guys looked at Jonas’ Eagles hat and gave him grief about the team since they are all Cowboys fans. Jonas asked his questions about some upcoming videos they plan to release and got some great inside dirt. They were all impressed we had traveled from Denver to see them and told us we were (at least to that point) the people who had come the farthest to see them. They laughed with us and seemed as interested as they could be in us considering they had about 300 other people still to meet. They posed for some photos and we collected a swag bag, which included a toy Bristol-themed car that Jonas proceeded to race down that infield tunnel on our way out.

And before we knew it, we were moving on to wait for the evening’s show.

***

They didn’t recommend that you bring ear protection to Chaos at the Colosseum. But it wasn’t a bad idea. Yes, there were loud monster trucks and those drifting cars don’t exactly slide around the pavement quietly. But the pregame entertainment, such as it was, was designed for the younger set. That included a DJ who was doing his part to excite the crowd but did so more or less by yelling sounds that were hard to make out through the venue’s speaker system.

Some of that noise bombardment made sense. Most of my own Dude Perfect experience with Jonas has been to ask him to turn the volume down since the guys tend to get excited during their tricks, leading to many abrupt bursts of yelling coming from the living room television. (I bonded with one dad at the event who, when asked by their camera crew what he loved about Dude Perfect, sarcastically said “all the yelling” and that he would appreciate more of it.)

But the noise was part of the chaos and the event wouldn’t have been the same without it. During the evening, supercross professionals did stunts off a ramp, including a complete back flip. The drifting cars and trucks were fun to watch as they whipped up smoke in their wake across the paved infield. Monster trucks went over ramps that were made from school buses. And the DP guys indeed engaged in a demolition derby, the ending of which will be part of an upcoming video, meaning Jonas and I can now say we’ve appeared in a Dude Perfect video that will be viewed 50 million times.

And the guys even did a sports stunt of their own, “kicking” field goals using an ATV with tires mounted on the front that they drove into a waiting exercise ball that sat atop a cardboard box tee. The goal was to get the ball through the same goal posts used when Bristol hosted Virginia Tech and Tennessee in 2016 in what remains the largest-attended college football game in history with 156,990 fans.

When it was over, we felt entertained. Jonas had met his heroes. And I had several hours to bask in one of the coolest sports venues I’ve ever been at in the world.

***

Our final day in the area included the travel part of our sports-related travel experience. We had a shockingly authentic New York bagel breakfast at the amazing Bagel Exchange in downtown Kingsport. We walked around one of the largest antique stores we’ve ever been to and later regretted not buying a board game called Space Shuttle 101, which made the astonishing claim on its box that anyone 7 and older could “command actual missions to outer space.”

We toured the beautiful Bays Mountain Park and its collection of raptors, which of course was of interest to Jonas. (There was also a parking lot car show featuring different Jeeps, which for half a second had us regretting not renting that nice Jeep at the airport — but only for half a second.)

From there, we drove to downtown Bristol, which is known for being split down the middle along State Street between Virginia and Tennessee. For lunch, we stopped at an institution on the Virginia side called the Burger Bar. While the burgers did not disappoint, I unexpectedly had the single best onion ring I’ve had in my life. Not that I’ve had a lot of onion rings in my life. But I do recall quite a few bad ones. The Burger Bar, I am here to say, makes the best one in the world — perfect crumb, slight amount spice, a thick and flavorful onion.

We walked around downtown a bit, hopping across the street every now and then after saying, “Should we visit Tennessee now?” or “Should we visit Virginia now?” For Jonas, it was his first time in either state and the proximity allowed him to work on his sudden and extremely 11-year-old goal of performing a somersault in all 50 states. Two down, 48 to go.

***

We took a very slow ride back to the airport as we weren’t quite ready to give up our Daytona. Well, a slow ride accentuated by the occasional extreme acceleration so we could hear that HEMI in all its capital-letter glory.

After some good-bye hugs to the car, we got ready for our return flights. At the evening stopover back in Dallas, most of our terminal’s restaurants were closed for some reason, leaving our only viable options as McDonald’s or Subway, each of which had lines that looked too long for us to make our connection. So, we improvised yet again at a convenience-type store, crafting a dinner that included some waters, a bag of beef jerky for the main meal, a bag of potato chips for a side dish and some fruit-flavored gummy bears for dessert. It may not have been Mom-approved, but these are the things that happen on a trip with your Dad. We sat down at a high boy outside a closed wine bar to eat our gourmet meal in style. We laughed the whole time.

Jonas, however, had one last surprise left: Our connecting flight back to Denver was the only one on the trip that had screens on the seat backs. It was as if Jonas had just received a $1,000 gift for flying. “They have screens!” he said as we worked our way down the aisle. When he discovered that the screen on his window seat wasn’t working, I offered to trade him so he could use mine in the middle, a move that may have meant more to him than taking him on the entire trip itself.

***

Perhaps the excitement over the screens was not surprising considering the nature of our travel adventure to see the latest internet sensations. Sports-related travel is, by all measures, returning. We are seeing it on a weekly basis, not just at the major professional events that fill our TVs again after a year of chaos at many colosseums. We are seeing it at the youth level as well, with hotels filled with traveling teams in all sports and people returning to sports events. And in Kingsport, Tennessee, last week, one of those rooms was filled with a father and son on a journey to Bristol.

Do the guys from Dude Perfect qualify as sports-related travel? For Jonas, and many in his generation, they absolutely do. When professional sports celebrities come on with Dude Perfect to perform some tricks, Jonas generally doesn’t know who they are. He just knows they’re on with Dude Perfect. The fact that five guys have made a lucrative career for themselves on YouTube should come as no surprise. Their act is made for today. It’s funny. It’s easily digested in quick clips. And they do at least compete in stuff among themselves in a way that makes it fairly compelling to watch.

Whatever you think of their sports bonafides, Dude Perfect of all things was our gateway back to a time that for many months I feared wouldn’t return — or at least not return in the same way. The act of traveling to an event was a relief, a joy and contained all the surprises that make trips like that so memorable. We’ll be talking about that Charger, about our beef jerky at the wine bar and about our bagels and lox in downtown Kingsport for years to come. We may even talk about those things more than meeting Dude Perfect once Jonas inevitably moves on to the next thing.

But the only thing that made those memories possible was the ability to travel again in ways we all knew before. And for that I was most grateful.

Jason Gewirtz is editor and publisher of SportsTravel Magazine. His son, Jonas, is a Dude Perfect fan and one of the most ardent Philadelphia Eagles fans you will ever meet.

This one hurts.

There’s no question 2020 has been a wild ride for the sports-event industry. Since mid-March when the COVID-19 pandemic began in earnest, each event cancellation and postponement has been a gut punch at worst and disorienting at best for sports organizations, the destinations that host their events and the fans who love their sports. The Indy 500 in August? The Kentucky Derby in September? The Masters in November? While it’s been dizzying to keep track of, thank goodness those events are still possibilities even if they’ll look quite different.

But of all the events rescheduled, canceled or otherwise affected by the pandemic, the announcement that the Big Ten and the Pac-12 will cancel college football this fall has been the hardest for me personally so far. For me, the fall is defined by college football. And college football, more than just about any other sport, is personal.

I spent my college years in Boulder, Colorado, rooting for a Buffaloes team that was at or near the top of the polls for my campus experience. As a member of the marching band, I followed the football team closely for a variety of reasons. Sure, I loved the team and the game itself. But the prospect of travel with the band was also in the mix. Road trips to Lawrence, Kansas, or Stillwater, Oklahoma, for what then were Big 8 matchups were as exciting to me as the bowl games I got to attend in Miami or Phoenix.

My experience worked out so well that during my time watching the team and playing drums in the band, I got to meet an awfully cute tuba player. After graduating, we stayed close to each other and close to the program, enjoying our fall Saturdays in Boulder watching our Buffs. When we got married 20 years ago this summer, we held the ceremony on campus.

A Trophy Made for Fans

In the years since, CU’s teams didn’t have much for us to cheer for. We cheered anyway. After our son was born, we eventually brought him to the games as well. He liked kicking around the fall leaves on campus before the players kicked off at the stadium.

And when Colorado joined the Pac-12 in 2011, we had a new reason to celebrate (and not just for the current band members who now got to take conference trips to Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle and other seemingly exotic locations). My younger brother is an Arizona State alum, meaning we suddenly had a built-in rival to play each and every season in the new Pac-12 South.

Like all good rivalries, we commissioned a trophy. So while the teams may have no idea, there is a lot at stake one special Saturday each fall. The Colorado/Arizona State Nabholz/Unck Memorial Cup Presented by Vincent’s Pizza (named for our favorite obscure players at our respective schools and with an imaginary multiyear corporate backing from the local pizza place where we grew up) gets to stay in the house of the winning family — either his in New York or mine in Colorado — for the year until the next game. The Colorado-Arizona State game may never be on any pundit’s national radar, but it is on ours, circled on the calendar each and every fall. The winner gets the glory; the loser gets an alarmingly significant UPS bill.

Unfortunately for CU, the Sun Devils pretty much owned the series from the start, winning the first five straight. But in 2016, as part of an improbable run to the Pac-12 South title (and their best year since our college days), CU won the game and the trophy came home to us. That first glorious offseason, we brought it to the mountains. We toured it around Colorado. I brought it to the top of Folsom Field with the help of a former co-worker who now works in the athletic department and posed our trophy next to Rashaan Salaam’s Heisman and with CU’s 1990 national championship trophy in the school’s athletics center — all the great collegiate trophies in one location at last.

Colorado has won the game the last two years as well, and the trophy has been with us ever since. Last season we even staged a victory parade on our cul-de-sac as our neighbors — none of whom had any stake in the game — got to learn of the rivalry. There was a grand marshal riding in a convertible, wagons used as floats, kids on bikes. And there was a tuba player and a drum player leading the parade with their instruments while their CU-loving kid took photos of the ridiculous spectacle.

That’s the passion behind sports events. You don’t have to play the game to appreciate everything that comes with it: The pageantry, the experience, the collective experience. These are the things that are lost when we lose events.

An Old Rival

The collective experience has never felt more real than it did at another game played in Boulder last year that we attended when our old Big 8 rivals Nebraska came to visit. To ensure we got in the stadium for that game — Nebraska’s first visit to Boulder in 10 years — we bought a season-ticket package. As only the Nebraska faithful can, fans there did the same thing, buying CU season tickets for just the one game to see their team play as well. We’d been to Nebraska-Colorado games plenty of times. But with the long delay since the Cornhuskers’ last visit, Nebraska fans were ready to return. I’ve never seen anything like it. Over half the stadium was red (I’d guess as much as 60 percent) and they were in their seats an hour before kickoff, as we were as well. When Nebraska went up 17-0 nearing the fourth quarter, it looked hopeless for our Buffs.

But this is why we love sports. CU woke up, tied the game and won in overtime, 34–31, when Nebraska’s kicker missed his field goal attempt. When our then 9-year-old son saw fans young and old storming the field, he asked if we could, too. Yes, of course.

That afternoon was one of the most enjoyable of my life, watching ecstatic people on the field, including an older fan next to us kneeling down in delight, arms raised to the heavens, his smile as wide as the seating bowl. I took this photo of my wife and son leaving the field after we stayed and sang fight songs till we couldn’t sing any more. To me this photo represents the best of the live sports experience. You don’t need to see their unseen, satisfied faces to know what’s happening here as they walked off the field. You don’t need to see my smile behind the camera. This is what it’s all about, for the fans anyway. And this is what hurts so much about the prospect of no such experiences this fall, at least for my team.

Shifting to the Spring

We’ve lost a lot of sports in 2020, more than even I can comprehend as we’ve chronicled the past few months in SportsTravel. We’ve also been heartened to see so many events start to come back, from the youth level to the professional leagues. But the decisions by the Big Ten and Pac-12, among many other sports organizations, shows that there unfortunately remains a great deal of uncertainty in the weeks and months ahead.

And for me, this one hurts.

While painful, I also believe it was the right decision. Sports mean many things to many people, but the safety of the participants should always come first. In the case of the Big Ten and the Pac-12, their leaders believe it’s safer to wait, which is hard to fault. It appears some college football programs may try to make a go of a fall season, including Nebraska, which is ready to play even if their Big Ten colleagues are telling them no. For a team that has sold out each of its home games since 1962, I respect their passion and desire to play, especially if they truly feel they can do it safely. If the other conferences feel they can play safely, I don’t fault them in their decisions either. And there is no denying the impact these games have on their host communities, both economically and socially.

For our team and the rest of the Pac-12, hopefully there will be games this spring in Boulder and on campuses around the conference. If that comes to be, we’ll walk around campus marveling at the green leaves sprouting from the trees instead of kicking the colorful ones that have already fallen to the ground. We’ll wear T-shirts and shorts instead of fleece jackets and ski hats. We’ll cheer just the same even if it won’t be the same. We’ll be happy for whatever we can get.

And hopefully that beautiful trophy will be ours to keep around for even longer under legitimate circumstances when CU beats ASU. The chance to play for — and even to lose — the trophy is sweeter than getting to keep this absurd piece of hardware simply because COVID-19 continues to disorient our world.

To me, it’s a symbol of what we still have to look forward to experiencing.