many year

His father says it all the time.

Anthony Frias II will suffer a setback, like those scary months when the UCLA running back was stuck in transfer portal limbo, unsure if his college career was over, and he’ll hear those familiar words.

It’s part of the movie.

He’ll strain in anonymity, police repeatedly coming to the door of his home at 2:30 a.m. because neighbors kept complaining about the sound of weights slamming onto the floor of the garage after another sweaty deadlift, and here comes his father’s favorite phrase again.

UCLA running back Anthony Frias II’s family gathers for a photo in front of the Rose Bowl before cheering for him and the Bruins.

(The Frias family)

It’s part of the movie.

Then there’s moments like last weekend, when something happens that makes this whole improbable journey feel like it’s just getting started, like there’s so much left to do and so many people to inspire for the kid from a tiny town in the San Joaquin Valley who once had no college scholarship offers.

Having been made a bigger part of the offensive game plan against Maryland, Frias bolted for his first career touchdown run. Later, with the Bruins needing to reach field-goal range in the game’s final moments, he chugged ahead for 35 yards, dragging defenders with him to set up the winning score.

When Frias emerged from the tunnel inside the Rose Bowl afterward to reconnect with his family, having starred inside the stadium where he once stood as a teenager with a sign proclaiming that he would play there one day, it was only a matter of time before he heard that refrain once more.

“Every time something happens, he mentions it,” the namesake son said of his father, “and it gives me a little bit more belief each time that he’s right.”

For many years, the genre of Anthony Frias II’s story seemed uncertain.

Would it be a hero’s tale? A drama about unfulfilled dreams?

The only sure thing was the conviction of the boy and his father who believed their journey would take them well beyond the confines of Le Grand, Calif., population 1,592.

Little Anthony wanted to play football so badly growing up that after suffering a hairline fracture in his knee that was supposed to sideline him for the rest of the season, he made his own rehabilitation plan.

He was only 9.

Setting his alarm for 5:30 in the morning, he’d wake his father and they would go for a 1½-mile run to a relative’s home for workouts before running back. With his team on the verge of its championship game, Anthony needed a doctor’s clearance to return ahead of schedule.

One morning, he took a crumpled piece of paper to his mom in bed. When she awoke unexpectedly, he ran away nervously. Sabrina Frias looked at the paper, which outlined his recovery and mentioned that he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.

Anthony Frias II was in high school when he stood in front of the Rose Bowl while holding up a sign that read, “One day I will play here!” and featured the Stanford logo. He realized his dream of playing in the Rose Bowl, although it was for UCLA.

(The Frias family)

Anthony left his fate in his mother’s hands, asking her to make a choice — circle the “Yes” he had written alongside a happy face or the “No” alongside a sad face.

Her heart breaking at the thought of denying her son, she circled “Yes.” Anthony went on to score every point in his team’s 20-19 victory.

By the time he was 13, Anthony had modeled his playing style after Christian McCaffrey, the dynamic Stanford running back who was making a strong push for the Heisman Trophy. That made the Christmas present he received that year — tickets to see Stanford play Iowa in the Rose Bowl — an all-time favorite.

Before the game, Anthony’s father painted a giant red “S” on his son’s bare chest. Together, they made a sign that Anthony held above his head while standing outside the stadium. It read, “One day I will play here!”

Looking back, Anthony said the sign was mostly his father’s idea.

“He just knew,” Anthony said, “that I was gonna be so special.”

Few shared that belief when Anthony was coming out of high school.

Starring for Turlock High, which was not known for producing high-level college prospects, wasn’t enough to draw interest beyond a few Division II schools. What was the recruiters’ biggest hang up?

“When they looked at him,” Anthony’s father said of someone who now stands 5-foot-10 and weighs 225 pounds, “he wasn’t the guy they wanted.”

Enrolling at Modesto Junior College, Anthony quickly rose from fourth-stringer to featured tailback during the 2021 season, topping 100 yards rushing three times and leading all California junior college players with 17 rushing touchdowns.

It was enough to earn him a scholarship offer at Kansas State.

Kansas State running back Anthony Frias II catches the ball during a game against Tulane on Sept. 17, 2022, in Manhattan, Kan.

(Colin E Braley / Associated Press)

Buried on the depth chart, he redshirted during his first season with the Wildcats. The next season, playing mostly on special teams, Anthony rarely got more than a carry or two in any game. As confident as he was in his ability, it was impossible to keep out the doubt.

He forged ahead, bolstered by his religious faith and conversations with the father who also happened to be his therapist and best friend, telling him not to worry, that things would eventually pay off.

“You know, we talk it through, I’m there for him all the time,” the elder Frias said. “I’ve been there through the tears, I’ve been there through the needing to hold my son, through the questioning, ‘What more can I do, dad?’ But he never faltered, never quit.”

He did seek a new football home.

Kansas State running back Anthony Frias II carries the ball while running into the Central Florida defense on Sept. 23, 2023, in Manhattan, Kan.

(Travis Heying / Associated Press)

Before Kansas State played its bowl game at the end of the 2023 season, Frias entered the transfer portal. Then he waited. And waited. Months went by without a new offer to play elsewhere.

“Nobody was coming, nobody was calling, there was a moment where we were just like, ‘Man, what are we going to do?’” Anthony’s father said. “We just prayed and had faith, like it’s going to work out, don’t worry.”

Sure enough, the new coaching staff at Arizona, which had pursued Anthony when it was at San José State, offered a spot as a preferred walk-on. That meant Anthony was going to have to take out student loans and pay for his own apartment in Tucson.

About a week before he was scheduled to move in, Anthony received a call from Marcus Thomas, UCLA’s running backs coach. How would you like to become a Bruin? Anthony told him that he’d need to be more than a preferred walk-on because otherwise he was just going to go to Arizona.

Less than five minutes later, UCLA offensive coordinator Eric Bieniemy called. The team agreed to cover his tuition and living expenses through name, image and likeness funds, even though he wouldn’t be on scholarship.

Done.

When Anthony giddily walked into the Rose Bowl for the first time as a player, during a practice before the 2024 season opener, he FaceTimed his parents, even going over to the seat where he and his father had watched that Rose Bowl game.

“That,” Anthony said, “was like the first full-circle moment that I had.”

Anthony’s first season as a Bruin largely mirrored his final season as a Wildcat. There was a lot of special teams work and only a few carries before an expanded role in the season finale against Fresno State.

Entering what’s likely to be his final college season, the redshirt senior earned a scholarship but no guarantee of emerging from the shadows.

As usual, his father wore his son’s No. 22 jersey last weekend when he settled into his seat in the family section inside the Rose Bowl, never imagining the name on the back would be one of the most talked about inside the stadium.

When Anthony took a handoff early in the second quarter, cutting one way and then the other before breaking a tackle on the way to a 55-yard touchdown run, his every movement was accompanied by his father’s voice in the stands.

“I’m like, ‘Oh, oh dang, oh dang!’ ” the elder Frias said. “And then I stand up, like, ‘Oh!’ and I see that [defender] chase him and I’m like, ‘Come on, Ant, turn it up!’ and then he beats the guy out to score the touchdown and I just went crazy.”

With fellow running backs Anthony Woods and Jaivian Thomas later sidelined by injuries, Anthony Frias got a few more carries. His last one, on the game’s final offensive play, captured the essence of someone who refused to quit.

Running away from one defender who tried to grab him by the shoulders, he spun away from another before finally getting dragged down at the five-yard line to set up the winning field goal on the next play.

“Just all the pain, all the suffering, all the longing, all the workouts, all the late nights, all the no-love, no-opportunity, that run signified the release of that,” his father said. “And when he came out of there, he let out his roar. He was like, ‘I won’t be denied any more.’ ”

In one game and only four carries, Anthony had piled up 97 rushing yards — exceeding the 91 yards he had tallied in the three previous seasons combined.

“He made the most of the situation,” UCLA interim coach Tim Skipper said. “He made critical plays — I mean, we’re not just talking he got some first down or something, he made critical, impact, explosive plays that changed that game and for that to happen for him, it couldn’t have happened to a better person.”

Later, emerging from the tunnel leading to the same spot outside the Rose Bowl where he had held that sign over his head almost a decade earlier, Anthony flashed a smile that his father had never seen before when he reached a jubilant throng of family and friends.

“It just was all the years of the grinding and the behind-the-scenes stuff that I’ve been going through,” Anthony said, “and you know, getting opportunities here and there doing different things and showing that I could do more.”

Everyone shouting his name, waiting their turn for a hug, the only thing missing was a climactic score and rolling credits.

You know what his father would say about that.

Hulk Hogan, who died Thursday at 71, was a star in pro wrestling, perhaps the star, through its two biggest popularity booms in the mid 1980s and the late 1990s. But after being the biggest star in, there was a lot of controversy along the way and his career ended in a hail of boos.

Hogan burst onto the scene in the 1982 movie “Rocky III,” where he played a pro wrestler called Thunderlips, who was taking on Rocky Balboa in a match for charity. He appeared on “The Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson” and caught the eye of Vince McMahon, who was planning on buying the then-World Wrestling Federation from his father and taking it nationwide, He was looking for a star to build the promotion around. Hogan was wrestling for the American Wrestling Assn. and was growing frustrated that they never gave him the promotion’s championship, which usually led to making more money.

McMahon bought the WWF and started poaching talent from around the country. Hogan signed in late 1983, breaking his AWA contract and no-showing several dates. McMahon quickly put the championship on Hogan, who came into the ring to the song “Real American,” tore off his T-shirt, told his fans to “train, say your prayers and take your vitamins,” and vowed to defeat the heel of the month because “Whatcha gonna do, King Kong Bundy or Paul Orndorff or Kamala or Roddy Piper, when Hulk Hogan and Hulkamania run wild on you.”

It was a formula for success for many years, lifting pro wrestling to the mainstream with appearances on MTV and NBC, where WWF filled in for “Saturday Night Live” every six weeks and drew better ratings, all with Hogan headlining.

In 1989, Hogan tried to branch off into movies, produced by McMahon. They all flopped. “No Holds Barred.” “Suburban Commando.” “Mr. Nanny.” The persona that worked so well in the ring did not translate onto the big screen like it later did for wrestling stars such as Dwayne Johnson and Dave Bautista.

In 1991, Dr. George Zahorian III was convicted of illegally supplying anabolic steroids. Zahorian also served as the ringside doctor for WWF matches in Pennsylvania. At his trial, it was revealed that Zahorian had supplied steroids to the WWF and its wrestlers. Hogan, hoping to end discussion that he was on steroids, appeared on “Arsenio Hall” in 1992 and said that he has only used steroids on three occasions, all under doctor’s care to rehabilitate muscle injuries.

The outcry was immediate, with wrestlers coming out to says Hogan was lying. Fans, who could see how well-built these stars were, were disillusioned that Hogan would lie. His popularity began to wane and he began to get booed at some appearances. Hogan took a leave of absence from the company.

A much-smaller Hogan returned in 1993 to team with his friend Brutus Beefcake to take on Ted DiBiase and Irwin R. Schyster at WrestleMania in Las Vegas. Little did fans know that the plan was for Hogan to end the show as champion once again. When Hogan came out to aid Bret Hart, who had just lost his title to Yokozuna due to having salt thrown in his eyes, Yokozuna’s manager, Mr. Fuji, made an impromptu challenge to Hogan to wrestle him for the title “right now.” Hogan won the title in about one minute.

However, Hogan and McMahon has miscalculated the public’s desire to see Hogan again, especially in the top spot. The reaction was lukewarm at best and Hogan made sporadic appearances until losing the title to Yokozuna that summer. Hogan left WWF and started wrestling in Japan.

In 1994, Hogan signed with the now-World Wrestling Entertainment’s main rival, World Championship Wrestling. He lifted the profile of the company and drew several strong pay-per-view buy rates, but at live shows, fans seemed to be tiring of the trademark red and yellow gear and Hulkamania. WCW’s popularity was on the decline again when it was time for something no one thought they would ever see.

Kevin Nash and Scott Hall, two of WWE’s biggest stars, had signed with WCW and presented themselves as “invaders from a big wrestling company up north.” Fans had been dying to see a feud between WWE and WCW, and Nash and Hall, under the guidance of booker Eric Bischoff, were hinting that that was happening. They promised to unveil a mystery third man at the July 1996 “Bash at the Beach” show.

Nash and Hall came to the ring without the third man at that event, promising their ally would be along soon. They started wrestling Sting, Lex Luger and Randy Savage and cheated to get the upper hand, knocking Luger out and injuring Sting. They were about to destroy Savage, when Hogan walked out in the red and yellow gear. Here to save the day again.

Hulk Hogan and Dennis Rodman were briefly aligned after Hogan turned heel and started the New World Order.

(Paula Illingworth / Associated Press)

The crowd was shocked when Hogan turned on Savage and announced himself as the third man. He told the fans they could go to hell. Fans began pelting the ring with garbage as Hogan announced the formation of the New World Order.

The next week, Hogan, now wearing black and white, got pelted with garbage again. But the heel turn worked. WCW began beating WWE in the ratings for the first time. Pro wrestling was on another hot streak, being watched by more people each week (around 13 million) than at any time in history.

The hot streak lasted until 1998, when fans grew tied of the NWO. Hogan left WCW in 2000. He returned to WWE briefly and had a memorable WrestleMania match with The Rock, before leaving again in a money dispute.

Hogan made appearances with other wrestling companies after that, and even returned to WWE to be inducted into their Hall of Fame in 2005 and had what turned out to be his final match for WWE in 2007. He was signed by the TNA promotion after that to put them on the map, but never really gained any traction there.

In July 2015, many media outlets ran excerpt of racial slurs made by Hogan on a leaked sex tape recorded in 2007. In the recording, he is heard expressing disgust if his daughter ever dated a Black man, hoping that he would at least be a basketball player worth millions, dropped a racial slur toward Black people repeatedly and said he was “a racist, to a point.”

Once the recordings went public, the outrage was immediate. Hogan apologized, saying he used “language that is offensive and inconsistent with my own beliefs.” WWE removed him from its Hall of Fame and terminated the legends contract with him, though Hogan always maintained he resigned. Mattel stopped production of all toys featuring Hogan. His public appearances were few and far between and not well-received. Hogan gave an interview on ABC in which he asked for forgiveness, saying his racism was learned from his neighborhood while growing up in Tampa, Fla., and that racial slurs were commonly used there. Not many believed him.

Three years later, Hogan appeared backstage at a WWE event to give an apology to the wrestlers for his remarks. Afterward, several wrestlers expressed disappointment with Hogan, saying he didn’t apologize for the remarks but warned them instead to be careful what they say because someone could be taping them without their knowledge. The WWE reinstated him to the Hall of Fame.

Hogan began appearing on WWE shows again, but there were almost always pretaped appearances. He hosted WrestleMania 37 in 2021, and was booed. His final live appearance was Jan. 6 this year, when he appeared on the first “Monday Night Raw” on Netflix. It was at the Inuit Dome, and when Hogan came out, he was booed strongly by the crowd. Hogan seemed caught off guard, and after plugging his new beer, went backstage. He blamed the booing on his support for Donald Trump, even though others on the show who also support Trump weren’t booed when they appeared.

It was a sad ending for a man who make pro wrestling what it is today. What will Hulk Hogan be remembered for 50 years from now? It would be interesting to hop in a time machine and find out.

It was Jasmine Benjamin’s friend, the gallerist Jeffrey Deitch, who persuaded her she needed to make a book about L.A. style. From her early days going to shows and working the door at parties to her many years hustling as a stylist, Benjamin knew everyone — designers, skaters, musicians. She was fluent in the visual language that made up the city, knew its subcultures and neighborhoods like the back of her hand. In the intro to her new book, “City of Angels: A Book About L.A. Style,” Benjamin writes: “What happens in Los Angeles does not stay in Los Angeles,” referencing the immeasurable and often uncredited influence L.A. has had on fashion and culture around the world. Benjamin cites Alessandro Michele’s Gucci and Hedi Slimane’s Celine as just two of the many fashion houses who have drawn from L.A. culture in the last few years alone. Alongside a map of L.A. designed by artist Sickid that includes La Cita and the Troubadour, “City of Angels” features a foreword by British Vogue editor Chioma Nnadi: “I have Jasmine Benjamin to thank for opening my eyes to the city. … Standing in the middle of the crowd at a small music festival on the Eastside, and I couldn’t help but stop and stare: the kids here dressed with so much verve, pulling from a smorgasbord of sartorial references — skate, surf, goth, you name it. I was totally spellbound.”

Pia Davis and Autumn Randolph of No Sesso.

Sonya Sombreuil of Come Tees.

It was important to Benjamin that “City of Angels” be captured through her lens, marking her debut as a first-time photographer. She shot 124 photographs of L.A. icons in front of meaningful locations — from Tropical Juice in Highland Park to the Jewelry District — inspired by the format of old Japanese street-style shots in Fruits magazine. Flipping through “City of Angels” feels like going through the ultimate L.A. yearbook, where everybody wins “best dressed.” Part of the excitement is spotting how many people you know, charting L.A.’s creative communities as an interconnected web. There is a feeling that arises seeing this patchwork of faces in print: These are the artists, designers, musicians of our time — from Barrington Darius to Sonya Sombreuil, from YG to Isabelle Albuquerque, Pia Davis and Autumn Randolph to Lee Spielman, Lauren Halsey to Guadalupe Rosales. The list goes on.

With “City of Angels” the world is invited to understand that L.A. style has never just been about the clothes. It’s about the way people move here, the way they contribute to the city and each other.

Julissa James: I saw Jay 305 after the Vogue piece on your book came out. He was holding court at Canyon Coffee and was like, “Did you see my picture in Vogue?” He was so excited.

Jasmine Benjamin: I love that you just said that. There are so many reasons why I wanted to do this book, but that’s one of the reasons: For someone to uplift these people and this point of view. Everyone in L.A. knows Jay 305. He’s the flyest. He has so much charisma. He’s super around the way. I didn’t tell Vogue to pick him, but of course they picked him.

JJ: How did this book come about? I know that you are a collector of books and coffee-table books in general. I’m wondering, were you looking at your collection thinking, “Something like this is missing.”

JB: I am a lover of books and media because I came up before social media, so magazines were the most important thing. That’s how you figure out who’s at the parties — you look at a magazine. So archiving is important, but I do have to always make sure that I highlight Jeffrey Deitch, because he’s my friend, and he is the one who put this in my ear. He was just like, “You should do a book. You’re really smart, you have great taste and you have the most diverse group of communities that you know in L.A. that really represent L.A. You should do a book about L.A. style.”

JJ: I know that so many people featured in the book came from a natural connection. Can you tell me a little bit about your history and background in L.A., and how you got to know so many of these people in creative circles?

JB: I moved to L.A. in 2002 to go to FIDM. I had a roommate and my roommate’s cousin was friends with this girl. Literally, the first place they ever took me to was Leimert Park with [filmmaker and artist] Kahlil Joseph and his girlfriend. It was to a party called “Juju.” That’s back in 2002 or 2003. I was so lucky to have the first point be a local thing, and not just get caught up in the craziness of the Hollywood industry. Then I was interning in Interscope Records and going to shows. Then I was working the door at these speakeasies that were really important back then, called Temple Bar and Zanzibar. Everybody was there — Flying Lotus, Miguel, Thundercat, J*Davey, all those people. But they were babies! I was a baby.

JJ: How did you go about casting?

JB: I did start with putting an Excel sheet together of every single person that I thought should be in it, whether I knew them or not. Getting my Virgo moon and rising in gear. From that, I’d be like, “OK, who’s missing? What cultures am I not getting? Who do I know in those places, and what are the cultures that I want represented that I think are Los Angeles?” The first time I did it, I probably had 80 people I wrote down. The book is 124 [people].

JJ: What strikes me also — I know it’s a book about L.A. style, and the subject is front and center — but it also almost feels like an archive of the city.

JB: This is my first book, so I had an intention of what I wanted it to be from the beginning, but at the end, when I was putting it all together, I was like, “You know what? The book really is about the style, the people and the places.” A lot of these places that I shoot at with people, they mean something to me too. I also felt like I had to do this because I don’t know how long the regional style is going to stay with us because of the internet. Also people were dying, like Spanto. He’s been a friend of mine for many years. The urgency was just [building] more and more because of all the things that were happening in Los Angeles. I had to capture L.A. the way that I see L.A., the way I experience it, and how I love it, forever.

Lauren London.

Spoety.

Nathaniel Santos.

Duckwrth.

JJ: You talked about regional L.A. style. If you had to put some words to what that is, what would they be?

JB: I would always say classics and workwear — because that style, those two things, exist literally in every type of different subculture. They’re wearing it in their own way. When I say classics I mean white tees, dress shoes, denim. Dickies forever, canvas shoes. Those things are part of Los Angeles [style] no matter your age, economic background, race or gender.

JJ: You put together this book over the course of years. Are there any specific stories or interactions you had while making the book that stand out in your memory?

2Tone, left, and Spanto of Born X Raised.

JB: When I look at the photos, I can remember almost everything that happened that day. Definitely taking Spanto and Alex [2Tone]’s photo at the park, because it was just a normal day with Spanto. Nobody loves L.A. more than Spanto. I remember when I took the photo, I was still really early on taking photos, and I didn’t have my memory card in the camera. I only got one photo. They were like, ‘Well, we’re gonna be down the street at Alex’s, so you can just go home and get your memory card’ — because I lived close by — and I went and took more photos. But guess what ended up being the photo? The first photo. Another really great one was talking to YG — he is so enthusiastic and very intelligent and well-studied when it comes to Los Angeles style. I also loved talking to the [Polio] twins. I’ve known them for so many years, from shopping at Opening Ceremony or parties. When I came to their neighborhood, they were like, “We can’t believe you came to our neighborhood.” And I was like, “This is the whole point of the book!” They were just so kind to me. Barrington Darius on the block his entire family grew up on in Watts for almost 70 years. Even Jesse Jo Stark. Jesse’s a part of the conversation — L.A. girl, fashion royalty. Now we’re just friends forever.

JJ: Why do we need a book like this in the world?

JB: It’s way overdue. L.A. needs its own visual survey of what people look like that live here, not just work here.

Jesse Jo Stark.

Laura Harrier.

Daniela Barraza a.k.a. Dani.

Drewbyrd.

Boo Johnson.

Sandy Kim.

Annahstasia Enuke.

Andrew Dryden and Joseph Quinones of Departamento.

Shannon Johnson.

Bailey Quinones.

Johnny Valencia.

Lex Cabral-Orozco.

“Selena y Los Dinos,” the latest documentary film about the life of Tejano music icon Selena Quintanilla, has been acquired by Netflix. The film is currently scheduled to begin streaming in winter 2025.

The movie, directed by Isabel Castro, features original VHS footage taken by Selena’s older sister, Suzette, and is interspersed with present-day interviews with family and friends.

Netflix announced its acquisition in a Tuesday press release.

“Through personal archive and intimate interviews with her family, the film reveals new dimensions of her journey that have never been seen before,” Castro shared in the release. “I am deeply grateful to her family for their trust and support throughout this journey, and I can’t wait for a global audience to experience the magic, heart and community that Selena gave to all of us.”

Suzette also shared her enthusiasm about the scope of the partnership with Netflix in the Tuesday announcement, stating, “Grateful to have a platform that helps bring Selena’s story to fans around the world.”

This is not the first time that the Quintanilla family has collaborated with the streaming giant. They worked with Netflix to help create “Selena: The Series” — a scripted retelling of Selena’s childhood, rise to fame and death starring Christian Serratos as the Texas singer.

It was after working as an executive producer on the Netflix series that Suzette consulted her lawyer about making her own documentary.

“There’s some things that you just want to hold on to and not share with everyone,” Suzette said at the documentary’s 2025 Sundance Film Festival premiere. “I was always taking the pictures, always with the camera. And look how crazy it is, that I’m sharing it with all of you so many years later.”

The documentary surfaces footage from performances in which Selena subverts the idea of the well-manicured image that the Quintanilla family has constantly put out of the singer in the 30 years since her death. It also captures, in real time, the evolution of a bold new identity growing among Latino youth in the 1980s, encapsulated in Los Dinos’ cultural hybridity.

The film was awarded with a special jury prize for archival storytelling at the renowned movie gathering at Sundance. The jury made note of how the feature “transported us to a specific time and place, evoking themes of family, heritage, love and adolescence.”

So badly were people clamoring to view the movie that the organizers of Sundance pulled it from its online platform. The film had fallen victim to a number of copyright infringements as eager fans were uploading clips from it to social media platforms. This was the first time that Sundance had removed a feature during the festival.

De Los assistant editor Suzy Exposito and Times staff writer Mark Olsen contributed to this report.