Las Vegas Weekly

Minor success

Las Vegas is not a major-league market, yet remains an ideal venue for sports fans of all stripes

Meet our minor league mascot, Cosmo.

Photo: Ethan Miller

Growing up in Minnesota, we very much took pride in our status as a major-league market. When the Twins and Vikings threatened to leave the prairie in the late ’70s if a new stadium wasn’t built, the late, great Hubert H. Humphrey said, “Without professional sports, the Twin Cities would be just a cold Omaha.” Humphrey always knew what buttons to push. Minnesota politicians and taxpayers caved, the Metrodome was built (and named for Humphrey), and our seat at the grownups’ table was secure for another generation.

Yet, it was only upon moving to Las Vegas in 2005 that I came to see the folly of thinking that a city needed a professional sports franchise to be a big-league sports city. Sure, Vegas is home to a bevy of minor-league franchises. But if any city is cut out for life without major-league sports, it’s Las Vegas.

Because of Vegas’ rapid turnover in population (example: We lasted four years in the desert before heading back to Minnesota last fall), it’s been argued that locals won’t rally around a hometown team. Everybody’s from somewhere else, and their lifelong devotion to the teams they grew up supporting likely would prevent most from changing allegiances.

But that mentality is part of what makes Vegas such a great sports city. On my first weekend as an official Las Vegan, I hit the local Vons on Sunday morning and was amazed at what I saw—shoppers decked out in a kaleidoscope of jerseys, T-shirts and caps representing seemingly every NFL franchise. Just flipping through my mental Rolodex right now, I had friends in Las Vegas who were die-hard fans of the Bears, Chargers, Packers, Giants, Raiders, Steelers, Broncos, Falcons, Cowboys. It made for some pretty fun Sundays at sports bars, sports books and in my living room.

Of course, UNLV men’s hoops is the one team everybody in the Valley could get behind, especially as Lon Kruger led the Rebels back to relevance on the national scene. And though I’d never turn my back on my alma mater, we spent many a thrilling night at the Thomas & Mack and even invested in season tickets during our last year in Vegas. So perhaps there’s some hope that transplants would support a local pro team, at least when they weren’t playing the childhood favorite.

Another unique advantage of the Vegas sporting life is the diversity of opportunities as a spectator. I used to joke that you couldn’t pay me to watch a NASCAR race, until the Weekly proved otherwise. I also attended my first World Series of Poker, and sat next to Wayne Newton at my first rodeo.

I missed out on the MMA and boxing scene, but even amateur wrestling thrives in Las Vegas, and I took in the U.S. Olympic Trials and a couple of big college tournaments.

Personally, I missed life in a major-league market because I made my living covering those teams, and when I’m sitting in Minneapolis’ beautiful new Target Field—either in the spacious press box or the equally glorious grandstand—I have zero regrets about returning to the land of big-boy sports.

But don’t worry, Vegas—you offer too many great sports experiences to ever become a “hot Omaha” to me.