​Happy Birthday, America.

Our country turned the ripe old age of 234 on Sunday. Between burgers and beers and bikinis, I tried to spend some time remembering how friggin' fortunate we are to have a variety of sports and the freedom to choose which ones we love and loathe.

Add to the list if you want. Or just pick and choose. Whatever.

It's a free country.

234. Dirk Nowitzki's loyalty.

233. The right to hate Tom Hicks.

232. Cowboys' Super Bowl expectations. Every single year.

231. Tiger Woods' rise. And fall.

230. Josh Hamilton's resurrection.

229. Cowboys Stadium.

228. Jim McKay.

227. Jordan Spieth.

226. The star on the helmet.

225. Yankee pinstripes.

224. The 18th at Pebble Beach.

223. Dick Vitale, John Madden and, yes, even Brent Musburger.

222. Marion Jones, before she lied.

221. Hail Mary and Touchdown Jesus.

220. The Ice Bowl, the Rose Bowl and the Beer 'n Bowl.

219. Game 7.

218. Cameron Crazies.

217. Stockton to Malone.

216. Brandi Chastain's sports bra.

215. The Williams sisters.

214. Boston's Green Monster and Augusta's green jacket.

213. The 12th Man.

212. Brian's Song.

211. Spurrier's visor.

210. "H-O-R-S-E," "Hot Box" and "Tackle the Man with the Football."

209. Happy Valley and March Madness.

208. Michael Jordan.

207. The seventh-inning stretch and "Down the stretch they come!"

206. Army-Navy.

205. Pauley Pavilion.

204. Caddyshack.

203. "Gentlemen, start your engines!"

202. Atlanta's Tomahawk Chop.

201. Vince Lombardi.

200. Don King, Gene Keady and Slick Watts.

199. Kobe in the clutch and Junior on the gas.

198. Hot dogs.

197. The Three J's, The Four Horsemen and The Fab Five.

196. "It ain't over 'til it's over."

195. Hawg hats, Fort Worth Cats and Minnesota Fats.

194. Jason Kidd's instincts.

193. A two-putt birdie.

192. Wide Right and Student Body Left.

191. Natalie Gulbis.

190. The smell of fresh-cut grass on Opening Day.

189. Slow-motion instant replays.

188. Al Davis' white(ish) windbreaker.

187. Pizza delivered simultaneously with kickoff.

186. The hole in the roof so God can watch his favorite team.

185. The Immaculate Reception.

184. A no-hitter after eight.

183. Jimmy Connors at Flushing Meadows. At night.

182. Alligator arms, swim moves and The Shark.

181. Tom Dempsey.

180. The Silver Boot, the Iron Skillet and plain ol' braggin' rights.

179. Underdogs.

178. Navratilova vs. Evert.

177. Grass.

176. Hat tricks via bicycle kicks.

175. Jerry Jones.

174. NFL Films.

173. Bo Jackson.

172. Bobby Knight's sweaters. And trifecta bettors.

171. Texas-OU Weekend.

170. Flo-Jo and Little Mo.

169. DirecTV's Sunday ticket.

168. Two points, three-peats and four- baggers through the five hole.

167. Robert Hughes.

166. Slap Shot.

165. Troy Aikman, Daryl Johnston and Deion Sanders on the
other side of the camera.

164. John Wooden's program and Red Auerbach's cigar.

163. The Steel Curtain.

162. Taking your glove to the game.

161. Tatu. And tattoos.

160. "Down goes Frazier! Down goes Frazier!"

159. Amen corner. And Death Valley.

158. Nike vs. Reebok.

157. No. 1 vs. No. 16.

156. Boomer Sooner, Rocky Top and "wake up the echoes."

155. One-handed 360.

154. Phil Jackson's Triangle and Dean Smith's four corners.

153. Breathe Rights, eye black, mouthpieces and ear holes.

152. The Great One and The Greatest.

151. "Fumblerooski."

150. Monday Night Football's old theme music.

Actually, it's not confounding defeats to the Memphis Grizzlies and Atlanta Hawks that has Cuban peeved, but more so tonight's American Airlines Center invasion by World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE).

(This is, after all, a blog named after an old rasslin' barn.)

Cuban, never one to turn down some theatrics or a spotlight, won't be "fighting" Denver Nuggets' forward Kenyon Martin tonight, but maybe Dusty Rhodes' son, Cody. Who knows? If it doesn't involve Fritz Von Erich or Black Jack Mulligan, my professional wrestling knowledge is basically extinguished.

I do know this much about WWE's RAW:

I grew up watching Saturday Night Wrestling on Channel 11. While the adults played Canasta the kids were banished to the TV room, where we couldn't wait for Bill Mercer on the black-and-white Zenith. I remember Blackjack Mulligan and Frtiz Von Erich and Ivan Putski and "Bulldog" Danny Pletchis and ...

Not gonna kid you. I was never a huge fan of rasslin'. Was it me, or did it seem kinda, I dunno, fake?

Nonetheless, it'd be sacrilege on my part to let this weekend's festivities in Houston pass without mention. As part of the WWE's Wrestlemania XXV, the Von Erich family will inducted into pro wrestling's Hall of Fame.

Well, since this here blog’s namesake was the old tin-roofed rasslin’ joint down on Industrial I feel obliged every now and then to post vintage Von Erich footage.

But my only review of Kevin Von Erich, um – how do I put this delicately? – horsing around with son, Ross, is this:

Wow. -- Richie Whitt

Now, and only now, I've earned the right to call this joint The Sportatorium.

Just got my grubby little hands on Gentleman’s Choice, a new documentary by Dallas film producer Mickey Grant. Better late than never, those of you who stumbled onto this site looking for professional wrestling vignettes will be rewarded.

Through extensive interviews and gold-mine footage, Grant tells the tale of former wrestler “Gentleman” Chris Adams. If you fondly recall the ‘80s heyday of the Von Erichs, Bill Mercer, Bruiser Brody, matches with shaved heads at stake and sellout crowds from Texas Stadium to Reunion Arena to the Cotton Bowl to, yes, even The Sportatorium, this ditty is a must see.