Los Lobos is playing for keeps. The East L.A. quintet is three years shy of the fourth decade of their “weird little trip,” as saxophonist/keyboardist Steve Berlin describes it. Berlin left L.A. rockabilly pioneers the Blasters to join Los Lobos in 1984 as the band’s sole gringo. The lineup has remained unchanged ever since. “We’re brothers from different mothers, ” he says.

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You won’t find many baseball nods in the Grateful Dead catalog — “Dupree’s Diamond Blues” is one helluva stretch — but the San Francisco Giants think well enough of native son Jerry Garcia to honor him with an Aug. 9 “Tribute Night,” to commemorate the 15th anniversary of the Dead frontman/guitarist/godhead’s tragic departure from this plane of existence. The evening at AT&T Park wraps a citywide observance, from Aug. 1-9, known as “the days between” Garcia’s birthday and death.

What does this mean for the diehard Dead Head who also happens to dig the sweet summertime swat of the bat? The opportunity to watch the hometown heroes smoke the Chicago Bowls — er, Cubs, from the vantage point of the “Jerry Garcia designated section,” likely the mellowest part of the stadium. Commemorative take-home swag includes a limited-edition bobblehead modeled on Garcia as he appeared on April 12, 1993, at Candlestick Park, where he harmonized on “The Star-Spangled Banner” before a Giants/Marlins game. Contrary to rumor, however, fans will not be invited to smoke the outfield.

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It’s weird to wake up to a morning where John Isner and Nicolas Mahut aren’t playing tennis. But their marathon Wimbledon showdown ended yesterday after Isner finally retired his opponent 70-68 after five sets stretched over three days of struggle. Gotta tell ya: I was riveted, and I don’t follow sports.

On Day 2, the competitors shattered untold records, volleying to a 59-59 stalemate after ten hours of ruthless back-and-forth. Play had to be suspended on account of darkness. Plus, I’m pretty sure both men had begun hallucinating. “I want to play,” gasped the exhausted Mahut, “but I can’t see.” The frothing throng wanted none of his excuses. “We want more! We want more! We want more!” they chanted, like they were at Cobo Center in Detroit or something. In tennis as in music, everything you’ve got is just not enough. So in honor of this epic milestone, let us linger among seven of rock’s most expansive cuts. And, no, “In-a-Gadda-da-Vida” doesn’t even come close.

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