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Tag Archives: Daily News

OR JUST ANOTHER LOST ANGEL?

11 Monday May 2015

Posted by Steve in Rae and Otto

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Tags

Bus, Daily News, Otto, Rangers

Monday morning – May 11

It’s a little after seven, everyone in my apartment is asleep. Mom, my sister and older brother.

Our windows are wide open. Mom keeps them open during the night so we can get a breeze through the apartment. The back window in the kitchen stays open as well as the three windows facing ninth avenue.

At about 7:20 Maureen catches the 69 bus for school across the street,  outside Rae and Otto’s. I am thinking of going downstairs to say hi.  In case you don’t know by now, Maureen is my girlfriend.

I love seeing her in the morning. She’s a junior at Saint Saviour high school down on eighth avenue.  They make the students wear uniforms. To me that’s crazy.

I wanna walk her to school but I always chicken out.

Crossing ninth avenue I see her standing with a friend. They’re talking, Maureen laughs. She is always laughing. I love her laugh. A few cars zoom by as I jog across the busy avenue.

“Hi,” I uttered.

“Hey, good morning,” she says as she displays her gorgeous smile. Clearly she is surprised to see me. Normally I would be on the train headed to school.

I keep walking towards Rae’s.

Over my left shoulder I can see Maureen and her friend looking at me as I enter the empty store.

Otto, the tall German man is behind the counter looking right at me. Every time I go in the store he hawks me. Don’t really know what his problem is. Just leave me alone dude.

Bending over and picking up a Daily News I take a quick peek outside and see Maureen and her friend get on the bus. We make eye contact, she smiles and then waves.

Stupid me shows no reaction. Why don’t I wave back?

The bus pulls away and I hand Otto thirty-five cents for the newspaper.

Not before I give Otto a dirty look and mumble under my breath.

Here you go asshole. 

Walking out of the store I watch the bus roll towards 16th street and around the circle.

Why can’t I get up the courage to ask Maureen if her and I can walk to school together? I’m sure she would.

I walk back up to my apartment, sit at the kitchen table and read the sports section.

Great, the Rangers tied the series with the Caps, now they come back to the Garden for Game 7, Wednesday night.

-Red

Hoops135@hotmail.com

YOU STOLE MY HEART AND THAT’S WHAT REALLY HURTS

21 Tuesday Apr 2015

Posted by Steve in Church Avenue, East 5th Street, Friends, Maria, Parkside

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

16th street, 9th avenue, Bar, Brooklyn, Daily News, F-Train

Monday night.

April 21…

You remember Maria, right?

Well there she goes, right over there.

She looks great. Always smiling.

She’s walking alone, going right by Farrell’s, towards the park. There’s a a few guys on the corner of 16th street checking her out.  Tight jeans. White sneakers. Denim jacket.

cropped-cropped-cropped-front-of-farrells-pat-feenton.jpg

Damn!

What’s crazy is my boy Tony was asking about her the other night. “Whatever happened to that Hispanic chick from Church Avenue?”

For once, I was speechless.

What the fuck did happen to her? It was probably me that fucked up. After we hung out that night in the park I told her I was going to meet her at East 5th the next night; I never made it.

Shit, I gotta catch up to her.  I throw my bottle of coke in the trash can.Tuck my newspaper in my back pocket.

Gotta tell ya, I think about her often. Matter of fact, I could be in bed late at night and she’s the only thing on my mind. I think of her even when I am with my girlfriend. Yeah I know, that’s pretty shitty of me. I know. If my girlfriend ever knew I was with her…oh boy I would be fucked.

But I gotta be honest with you. I will never forget that night we hung out in the park. Maria is an amazing kisser. Nothing lasts forever, right? Beautiful girls don’t come around often. Besides, I think I’m in love with my girl.

Jetting across ninth avenue, I call out to Maria.

“Hey, wait up!” She looks over her left shoulder and says hi.

“Where ya’ been?” I ask.

“Oh I’ve been around.”

I stop dead in my tracks, looking around.

“After that night we hung in the park I never saw you again,” I tell her.

“I’ve been busy.”

She’s been busy?

“And you stood me up,” she tells me.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

“And besides, me and my boyfriend got back together,” she informs me as she lets out a giggle.

I am standing still on the corner, right outside Oak park pharmacy. I knew I should have went down to East 5th to meet her.  I fucked up.

“Oh, okay,” I say to Maria as she looks over towards the circle.

Guess I really blew this one… I have no idea what to say next.

This is where I always fuck up. I’m awful with words. I clam up. Wish I knew what to say in times like this. I’m not very good at expressing my feelings.

She’s fucking gorgeous and I threw it all away.

A few of of my friends are walking towards us.

“Red, what’s up?” Johnny G asks.

“Nothing.”

“Come on, we’re going to the city,” he informs me as he looks at Maria.

We’ve been doing this a lot lately. Back in August we met some kids at Brighton Beach who were from the city. We became friends, started playing ball and now we hang out over there once or twice a week. They’re cool people.

They begin to walk towards the subway, I watch him, Mickey and Kevin walk down the stairs.

“You going?” Maria asks.

I am standing there frozen. Still thinking of Maria’s boyfriend.

“Yeah probably,” I answer.

“Okay well have fun,” Maria says as she jogs over to the circle.

I watch her run. She has amazing legs. Maria goes straight for some tall guy. They hug. I feel like an idiot. Dejected and feeling like shit, I walk to the subway, jog down the stairs and catch up to my friends.

“Yo, wait up!” I scream out.

We’re headed over to the city. As I sit on the F-train, I can’t take my mind off Maria.

–Red

Hoops135@hotmail.com

THE CITY GAME

21 Saturday Feb 2015

Posted by Steve in Brooklyn, New York City

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

Basketball, Daily News, NBA, New York City, New York Daily News

It’s all about the assist.

Thanks to Tony F. for sending me the really cool NBA All-Star pull-out section from the Daily News dedicated to the greatest basketball players to come out of New York City.

Daily News NYC pull out

When you think of NYC, basketball comes to mind. (Sorry, that’s the first thing that comes to my mind)

The city produced so many great players over the years.

Didn’t matter where you were; you could always find a good run in any of the five boroughs.

I had the pleasure of playing ball in all five.

From talking to many friends that still live in and around the city, it’s not like that anymore.

What happened?

Here’s the list of the Top 10 from the city (Via the New York Daily News).

1-Kareem Abdul-Jabber

2-Bob Cousy

3-Chris Mullin

4-Dolph Schayes 

5-Lenny Wilkins

6-Richie Guerin

7-Bernard King

8-Connie Hawkins

9-Billy Cunningham

10-Nate Archibald

I think there could be a serious debate over this list.

So we’re at Farrell’s, standing at the bar. Discuss…

-Red

Hoops135@hotmail.com

WHERE THE HAPPY PEOPLE GO

31 Tuesday Dec 2013

Posted by Steve in Ballard's Pharmacy, Blog, Booze, Farrell's, Prospect Park

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Booze, Daily News, Farrell's, New Year's Eve, Prospect Park, Times Square, Vodka

While this blog entry is inspired by real people, places and an actual event, names have been changed to protect the innocent. 

It’s New Year’s Eve night.

IN THE BASEMENT

I was putting on my coat and gloves in the living room of our five-room, railroad apartment thinking of how I was going to ask mom for some money.  Later tonight we have it all planned out though; hit the liquor store on 16th street for some booze and despite the temperature being in the low teens, we would head over to Prospect Park, get drunk then hop on the train to Times Square and watch the ball drop.  I had been over to the city plenty of times but never on New Year’s Eve. In the past we watched the ball drop on TV. On this night it was about the bottle. Pretty soon, every night would be all about the bottle.

First I needed some dough.

“Can I have ten dollars?” I asked mom as she was sitting on the couch watching TV.

“For what?”

“Me and my friends are hangin’ out.”

Mom looked at me with a puzzled look on her face.

“Hanging out?”

I was beginning to get annoyed.

“Yeah, hanging out,” I answered. I hate when she answers my questions with a question.

“I don’t have any money,” she barked.

Frustrated, I zipped up my coat and stormed out of the apartment.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST SAY THAT!” I screamed to her as I walked down the stairs, out into the cold night.

Mom would turn me down all the time.  I was getting sick and tired of having empty pockets.  I needed a job but I hated to work.  Plus I was tired of hearing her say, “Get a job.” I tried delivering the Daily News once but I had to wake up too early for that. My cousin had a paper route and boy did that suck, and I was just helping him.

I walked across the street and stood outside Ballard’s Pharmacy waiting for my friends to show up.  After dinner this was our meeting place.  When everyone arrived, we marched along ninth avenue to Prospect Park.

I hopped up on the blue mailbox that was planted on the sidewalk on the corner and watch Jason close the iron gate of the store. I notice he has a brown paper bag tucked under his arm. I’m sure it is filled with money. Probably all the cash they made from the whole day. Ballard’s was always packed.

Jason placed the bag down on the sidewalk as he reached up and pulled the gate down.

I thought of running by and scooping up the bag and sprinting down Windsor Place, I’d then have money and be able to buy some booze. Nah, I couldn’t do that, Jason knows me and knows I live across the street. They would put me in Spofford  up in the Bronx and I’d be fucked.

Looking down Windsor Place towards 8th avenue I see Missy, Naomi and Kennedy walking up the street coming my way. As they approach, I see Naomi chewing bubble gum.

“What’s up?” I yelled.

Missy and Kennedy say hi but not Naomi.

Pretty soon more and more of my friends begin to show up.  Our group, which is close to twenty strong begin to walk along ninth avenue towards Prospect Park.

We’re an army of teens about to hang out all night.  We don’t care what people say. We make our own rules.  As we pass Farrell’s, I look through the huge window in front and see a tall man holding a container.

In our neighborhood, it’s a two-step process; start out drinking on the street as a teenager, soon as you become legal, you step inside Farrell’s, walk up to the bar and order a drink.

“We goin’ over to the city or what?” Willie asks while we pass the pizzeria.

Everyone has mixed reactions. Some want to stay in the neighborhood, some want to go over to Times Square.

“Fuck yeah!” I scream out.

I’m hoping Naomi wants to go over to the city. It was just last night that we had a big fight over the phone and I broke up with her. We’ve been boyfriend and girlfriend for a few months. We’re always getting into fights.

A few of my friends start heading to the Bodega and liquor store. A cop car pulls up in front of the park and the cop in the passenger’s seat tells us to move inside the park.

No one says anything back, we do as we’re told. We’re wise-ass kids but when a cop tells us something, we listen.

About an hour later, everyone’s hanging out having a good time.

“Yo Willie, let’s go to the city,” I cried.

Willie is involved in a conversation with his girlfriend Gabby, I think they are dating.

“Yeah sure, it’s only nine, we have plenty of time,” he declared.

I walk away from him and sit on the bench.

Looking around I see groups of three and four of my friends standing in isolated circles talking and drinking. Everyone has a beer can or plastic cup in their hand. I’m sitting on the bench and haven’t tasted a drop of booze all night. How can I, I was broke.

I glance over and see Naomi talking with some kid who I don’t recognize. I get a bit jealous. Matter of fact, I always get jealous when she talks to other boys.

Getting up from the bench I leave the park and head home. I walk upstairs and no one is home. Earlier in the day I had heard mom on the phone talking about a big party down at Timboo’s.

I figured now’s my chance. I head straight for the liquor cabinet.  Mom always has a few bottles of booze in there so I grab the bottle of vodka. I also see Gin, Johnny Walker, some Jack Daniels and a bottle of wine.  Grabbing the vodka I look  at it and notice it’s half full. I stuff it inside my coat and head back to the park. No way Mom is going to miss this.  There’s beer in the fridge but I don’t like the taste. Walking along ninth avenue I have my hands in my pocket holding onto the bottle so it doesn’t slip out.

I get to the park and pull out the bottle and start sipping.  It tastes awful. Looking over at the bench I see a carton of Tropicana orange juice and a few empty cups. I play bartender and mix myself a screwdriver.  Down at Timboo’s I had seen the bartender mix this drink for my father.

Now I feel part of the group. I hear Naomi’s laugh above everyone’s talking, but the booze has some people yelling now instead of talking.  She’s standing alone with the same kid.  They are having a good time; more jealousy creeps in.

“Yo Red, Happy New Year,” Sammy screams out to me as he raises his can of beer and we toast.

I tap his can and drink up.  As I sip from my cup I glance over at Naomi and her new friend. Not sure how much longer I can take this.

Respectfully,

Red

Hoops135@hotmail.com

A TOAST…LIKE NO OTHER

20 Thursday Dec 2012

Posted by Steve in Blog

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

Alphie McCourt, Bartenders, Bill Boyle, Bill Reel, Black 47, Bobby Rice, Brian McCabe, Cell Theatre, Chelsea, Chris Byrne, Christmas, Ciaran Byrne, CJ Sullivan, Column McCann, Container Diaries, Court Clerk, Daily News, Dan Barry, Danny Mills, David Amram, Denis Hamill, Dennis Duggan, Eddie Mills, Ellis Henican, Farrell's, Frank McCourt, George Kimball, Harry Chapin, Holy Name, Ireland, Jack Deacy, Jack Kerouac, Jack O'Connell, Jacky Malone, Jen Chapin, JFK, Jim Dwyer, Jimmy Breslin, Jimmy Houlihan, Johnny Kennedy, Josh Chapin, Judy Kennedy, Larry Kirwan, Lisa McLaughlin, Malachy McCourt, Mort Persky, New York Newsday, Newtown, Pat Fenton, Pay it Forward, Pete Hamill, Peter McDermott, Peter Quinn, Queens Supreme Court, Red Hook, Rocky Sullivan's, Sandy Chapin, Scrooge, TJ English, Tom Kelly, Windsor Terrace

My friend Pat Fenton wants to spread cheers to everyone from the neighborhood. Here’s a great piece from an outstanding writer and a better person…

On my wall, above my books in the room I write in, I have a framed original Christmas column Pete Hamill wrote. It’s called “A Garland of Christmas Toasts.” It’s a full-page long, faded, Newsday column dated December 13, 1967. Signed across the top of it are the words, “for Pat Fenton who remembers.” And I do.

It’s perhaps one of the most beautiful, moving pieces of writing about Christmas time that I have ever read. Sad at times, political, sentimental, it rolls across the page like the lyrics of a Van Morrison song. He always started his annual Christmas column with an apology to the writer Jimmy Cannon, who originated the idea and the form as only he could. Jonathan Schwartz should invite Pete Hamill on his radio show and have him read that to us on Christmas day to remind us all of the way we were. And alert his listeners to pour a glass of champagne before he starts. It deserves it.

Here’ a sample of his column: “maybe it’s the beer and the season and the weather, but I could almost swear there was a time when we had a hell of a lot more heroes, and a hell of a lot more laughs. And I’m certain there was a lot more girls.”

It was lines like that made me want to be a writer.

So, with my own apology to him for borrowing the form, here’s to Windsor Terrace tonight…

To Pete Hamill and his brother Denis and to Brian Hamill, and to Bobby Rice, and Judy, and Johnny Kennedy, and to Jacky Malone, and to Steve Finamore from Container Diaries, who records the story of our lives on his Windsor Terrace blog.

Here’s to the bartenders in Farrell’s Bar and Grill on 16th Street and 9th Avenue in Windsor Terrace in my old Brooklyn neighborhood, and especially to Jimmy Houlihan and to Eddie Mills, they all give so much to those who need it. And let’s not forget the memory of the bartender/actor, Danny Mills who also defined what Farrell’s Bar was all about since it opened its doors in the 1930’s. He understood that.

Like Pete Hamill, we all drank there when we were young so long ago, so did our fathers from Ireland, and we all passed through Holy Name Parochial School where our report cards are still on file, hopefully forever.

Glasses up to Malachy McCourt and his brother Alphie tonight. And here’s to Larry Kirwan from Black 47. And to the musician David Amram too, who I learned so much about Jack Kerouac from. Cheers! And to Chris Byrne, another Windsor Terrace boy, whose special bar Rocky Sullivan’s in Red Hook got tossed around by Sandy, but whose still open for business. And to Lisa McLaughlin who brings the talent there.

It’s Christmas time and we have a few toasts to make. Here’s to all the people of the Queens Supreme Court who I spent a good part of my life with, and how they never once asked me, what the hell are you doing here working as a court clerk when you have a by-line in New York Newsday and the Daily News? Thanks to Tony and Maureen and Jackie, and Ken for putting up with me.

Here’s to my friend Jimmy Breslin, tell him to call me on Christmas morning, and be grouchy again when I don‘t have the answer he’s looking for. I miss those calls. Someone tell ‘Bres’ to write one more Christmas column. Let him write about how he is an usher in a Catholic Church in Manhattan, few people know that side of him. What a great Christmas story that would be.

May that women I shared a turkey sandwich on white bread with one cold evening in front of St Francis Assisi Church in Manhattan, as I was heading off to the old Rocky Sullivan’s Bar on Lexington Avenue to read, who trusted me as I handed half of it to her, be in a warm, safe place tonight. I never forgot her. She was Christmas.

Let’s all remember this holy Christmas night these words out of Newtown from a Litchfield Connecticut newspaper, “this heinous act does not define our town. What does is the love, compassion and caring that we have for one another. Love conquers all, especially evil.”

Along with “Scrooge”, let some cable station run a marathon showing of the movie “Pay it Forward” on Christmas Eve. Forget who is a Republican or a Democrat this night and let the politicians in Washington finally understand that we elected all of you to bring America together, not to divide it. It’s time for that.

Fill up my glass bartender, and let’s drink a toast to writers like T.J. English, Peter Quinn, Peter McDermott, Ellis Henican, C.J. Sullivan, who published some of the best stories about New York ever written in the New York Press, Jim Dwyer, Tom Kelly, Dan Barry, Jack Deacy, Column McCann, and the ones who I miss this year, Bill Reel, Dennis Duggan, Frank McCourt and George Kimball.

Here’s a special toast, a double Irish whisky to an editor from the Daily News that I will never forget working with, Bill Boyle, and his words, “go write a good story, Pat”, as he turned over a nine hundred word assignment to me that I just pitched to him. And , “don’t be too nostalgic.”

And let’s not forget to raise a glass to Brian McCabe, a great New York Detective and a great writer, and to my close friend the actor Jack O‘Connell, and the actor Ciaran Byrne, and to Kira and Nancy down in the Cell Theatre in Chelsea who breathe life in to all that we write with their stage.

Here’s to my friend Sandy Chapin this Christmas, and Pegge, and Jen Chapin, and Josh Chapin, and the memory of Harry Chapin who pointed us all in the right direction in America.

Hey bartender, send a drink down to the end of the bar to my friend, Mort Persky there, one of the editors of one of the greatest efforts to create a new newspaper in this town, New York Newsday, who watched over my words there.

Let’s drink to the memory of President John F Kennedy tonight who made my dad from Galway, Ireland so proud. This one is on me. Raise a glass and remember some of the lessons he tried to teach us when he said: “let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divides us.” So simple.

Let his words be a Christmas card for the world this night. We need it more than ever. None of these things may never happen, but if they did it would be a fine Christmas.

Thanks for the use of the hall tonight, Pete. Merry Christmas.

-Pat Fenton

THE REUNION

09 Tuesday Mar 2010

Posted by Steve in Blog

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Daily News, Reunion

Lots of buildup for the upcoming Neighborhood reunion.

New York Daily News writer and former neighborhood guy Denis Hamill pens a column about the event.

That’s why there’s gonna be another Back to the Neighborhood Reunion celebration in Windsor Terrace on April 10 at Bishop Ford High School. This time the price is $75 and all proceeds go to help save the Bishop Ford High scholarship fund and the Holy Name School from closing like so many other Catholic schools in the diocese.

For ticket info, visit www. neighborhoodreunion.webs.com or call (718) 360-2554.

-Steve

Hoops135@hotmail.com

THE MEDIATOR

31 Friday Jul 2009

Posted by Steve in Blog

≈ 44 Comments

Tags

21st street, 4th Avenue, 72nd Precinct, Apartment, Beer, Brooklyn, Canarsie, Cops, Daily News, Denis Hamill, New York, Poker, Tommy Doyle

Someone had mentioned Officer Tommy Doyle in the comments section so I thought he’d make for an intriguing blog entry.

I was a little kid when Doyle patrolled the neighborhood where he was known as one of the most-feared, disliked and most talked about cop’s from the 7-2.

One of my most clearer memories of the ‘discipline-master’ came one early Sunday morning where there was a domestic disturbance in my apartment.  After much screaming, yelling, and some slapping between a male and female combatants  I ran for cover out into the hallway crying hysterically.   I must’ve been sitting there for a couple of minutes when  I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.   As I stood up and leaned over the top Bannister to see who it was I could hear a walkie talkie;  a live voice was talking into it to someone on the other end.  “10-4”, was the last thing I heard.    As the voice made their way up past the first flight of stairs, I could now see him in clear view.   He was walking up very slowly, taking his time.  As he walked up a couple of steps, my mother walked out into the hallway.  I glanced at her, then at him.  Our eyes met through the staircase bars.   I couldn’t stop crying.  The sight of a police officer didn’t comfort me, it scared me even more.  I was face-to-face with the toughest cop in the neighborhood.

Cop Car

“Did you slap ’em?” Doyle asked my mother as he took his eyes off of me and now focused on her.

“No.” she answered, an unlit Salem cigarette dangling from her lips.

“Give ’em a slap and he’ll quiet down.” Doyle countered as his attention was back on me.

Quickly enough I stopped crying, without the slap.  He gave me a smile.

Doyle proceeded up the stairs, almost looking like this whole mess was a waste of his valuable time.  He walked into our apartment while I sat in the hallway, all alone.  I heard some talking in the apartment between him and my mother but couldn’t make out what they were saying.   Minutes later he came walking out and as he made his way down the stairs he said, “take care kid.”

The Mediator had done his job.

Around the neighborhood I always heard people talk about Doyle; it was mostly the older guys though.   At times  I would see him early in the evening come by the schoolyard during the Holy Name summer league; he’d drive down Howard Place in his police cruiser and stop in the middle of the street to survey the scene.  Once there was a brawl on the corner of 9th avenue and Prospect avenue between some neighborhood tough guys and sure enough as soon as Doyle appeared, everything calmed down.

I can recall Doyle pulling up to the parkside one night between 10th avenue and the Circle while a bunch of people hung out; I must of been 14.   Most were holding brown paper bags filled with cans of beer.  Doyle got out, asked who owned the beer and after no one answered, proceeded to pick them up and dump them all out.  When the black and white cruiser pulled up, double parked on Prospect Park Southwest and before he could get out, you had guys placing their bags down on the ground behind the wooden benches, behind the back tire of a parked car, but sure enough, the Mediator sniffed them out.

Other memories of Officer Doyle were of him breaking up a poker game on Howard Place.  He didn’t mess with the money in the middle of the circled group, he just told everyone to break it up and take a walk.

There was an interesting story I once heard a long time ago that he grabbed someone on the street because the guy was mouthing off on the avenue.  Doyle the deviant one, threw him in the backseat of the cop car and drove down to 4th avenue and 21 street.   As they arrived, Doyle uncuffed the guy, kicked him in the ass and told him to walk home.   Denis Hamill of the New York Daily News and former resident of the neighborhood once wrote in a column that Doyle would drive the late Joey Corrar all the way out to the piers in Canarsie and leave him there without any carfare or shoes.   Imagine that happening today?  There’d be lawsuits galore!

I’m sure Doyle was a good dude.  He was probably just looking out for the best interest of the local teenagers.  He was an old-fashioned, hard-assed, New York City police officer.

I would love to hear stories from the neighborhood folks on their encounters with Officer Doyle.

-Steve

Hoops135@hotmail.com

MARCH MADNESS

20 Friday Mar 2009

Posted by Steve in Blog

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

Basketball, Brackets, Daily News, Farrell's, Favorite, March Madness, NCAA, NYPD, Pool, shoes, Sports, Underdog

I picked Taylor up from her friend’s house yesterday and while I was waiting in the doorway her friend’s father Tom, who happens to be a good guy asked me about my brackets.

“How’s your brackets?” he asked.

“You know, I have a few favorites and a few underdogs.” I answered.

Taylor, sitting on the floor in front of us tying her shoe laces chimed in, “what the heck’s a bracket?”

I looked down at her, and was about to explain but scolded her instead.

“TAYLOR, easy girl, I’ll explain when we get in the car” (she has this bad habit of cutting me off while engaged in a conversation with someone).

The brackets, NCAA tournament, March Madness, pool…whatever you like to call it.  I will tell you this, I love it.  It’s a great time of year.  64 teams, interesting match-ups, upsets, blowouts… beginning yesterday,  all the way through April.

The next couple of weeks are what some call the greatest time in sports.

Many years ago the best NCAA tournament contest I ever entered was introduced to me by the late Danny Mills.  There are many different pools and contests to enter.  I would get in so many; one year I filled out 10 brackets!  Danny was one of the bartenders up at Farrell’s.  I think I was 14 years old, one day I was hanging out on the stoop outside Farrell’s filling out my brackets for a contest sponsored by the Daily News trying to figure out who to pick.  Danny came out of the bar after a long days work on his way home.

“Here kid, try this contest” he said as he tossed a sheet towards me.

I looked at it for a moment and didn’t quite get it.  After looking at it a bit closer I realized all I had to do was pick the Final Four…for only  $10!

“Gimme two” I said to Danny as he began to explain the rules to me.

It was Wednesday so I knew the picks had to be in soon.

“And don’t worry, you have until Friday at noon”, Danny added before getting in his car and pulling away.

Friday? What about if my team loses on Thursday? Plus how was I gooing to come up with $20.  I could pay someone back with my winnings.  Damn, all I need to do is pick the Final Four…that’s easy.

Not exactly.

Sure enough, a team I picked for the Final Four lost on the opening day but I was able to do the one sheet over and fill someone else in.  That Friday morning, I walked in the back door at Farrell’s and handed Danny my $20 and two sheets with my Final Four picks.

Long story short, I lost…on both sheets.

Each March I looked forward to entering the $10 pool but I never won.  Never came close.  Actually one year I had three teams right but UNLV hurt me.  The Final Four pool since has been halted.  I believe the NYPD became privy to the action out of a Staten Island tavern and shut it down.  It was the biggest NCAA tournament pool in New York.

The NCAA tournament has many people interested; folks who know nothing about sports.  Offices conduct their pools, I see contests in newspapers and on-line websites offer up to a million dollars in prize money.  These days all I do is grab the newspaper on Monday morning, look over the teams and fill out my brackets.  No contest, no money-making pools,  for amusement only.

Last night I called Taylor over and even though a few games were already complete, I had her fill out a bracket.

Earlier that day she asked me a question and not only did I answer it, I showed her what a bracket is.  I wonder if my introduction to the NCAA tournament will be the same for Taylor.

Oh yeah, for the record, I have Louisville, Memphis, Pitt and UNC in the Final Four with Memphis and Pitt in the Finals.

Good luck!

-SF

Hoops135@hotmail.com

5TH AVENUE FREEZE-OUT

27 Monday Oct 2008

Posted by Steve in Blog

≈ 32 Comments

Tags

20th street, 5 and 10, 5th avenue, 7th avenue, 8th street, 9th street, Army-Navy store, Avon, B75, B77, Blimpie, Burger King, Bus Stop, Cadillac, Chinese Restaurant, Daily News, Denis Hamill, Downtown Brooklyn, Felix's Restaurant, Grilled Cheese, ham and eggs, Holy Name, Jerry's Junk-Shop, Jimmy the Cook, Lenny's Pizza, Leopoldi's Hardware Store, McDonald's, Neergards Drugstore, Newsstand, OTB, Pizza, Record shop, Savings bank, St. Francis College, Stavenhagne, Tugboat, YMCA

Do people from the neighborhood still shop down on 5th avenue?

Do you remember how alive it was down there? It was like a different world!

On Saturday’s it was the place to be!

You would either walk down or hop on the B75.

The donut shop on 9th street; I was always good for a dozen! The newsstand on both corners. Forte Bellino always made it a point to stop at the newsstand on the way home from a St. Francis College basketball game. Who remembers the Chinese restaurant across the street from the YMCA? And of course who could forget the ‘Y’.

The small record shop next to the pizza place off of 9th street where I would pop in while waiting for the bus to take me back home. Speaking of waiting for the bus, do you recall the kids who would fish for coins at the subway gratings at the bus stop? These guys would put peanut butter on something and tie a long white string to it and drop it down. We’d be standing there watching these guys fish for what, a nickel, dime, or even a quarter? They’d be there for like 20 minutes trying to pull a coin up!

One Saturday night I was waiting for the 75 which happened to be running behind schedule. With a white box of donuts in my hands I noticed a sweet red Cadillac pull up. I looked a bit closer and the driver turned out to be a familiar face – it was my main man Corrado! He gave me a lift up to the avenue…

If you ventured over to 8th street you usually went to the Army-Navy store or across the street you picked up a Blimpie sandwich. What was the name of the bar where you had to be 75 years or older to enter? I believe it stood between 8th and 9th street. Was it Smith’s?

My cousins, the Leopoldi’s own their hardware store between 7th and 8th streets. Click here for a great story on the family written by Denis Hamill of the Daily News.

The Savings Bank, Burger King, McDonald’s, the Avon movie house, (do you recall the place where they made keys next door?) the huge apartment building on 10th street. The 5 and 10 was on the corner, right where the B77 made it’s first stop before heading downtown Brooklyn. I use to love the Grilled Cheese sandwiches in that joint!

How about Timbo’s, the record shop next door, Sepe’s toy store, Neergards and of course OTB. I’ll never forget making my first wager at the window. I lost $2.

There was an ice cream parlor between 10th and 11th street that made killer shakes!

Lenny’s Pizza on Prospect avenue, 5th avenue Diner with Jimmy the Cook holding it down. I recall sitting at the counter ordering ham and eggs.

The Tugboat, Stavenhagen’s and of course Jerry’s Junk-shop. My mom would score some great bargains.

And if you were down with the 8th grade graduation tradition at Holy Name, you went to Felix’s Italian restaurant on 20th street!

I miss the days of hangin’ on 5th avenue.

LAST CALL

29 Monday Sep 2008

Posted by Steve in Blog

≈ 25 Comments

Tags

Daily News, Final Buzzer, Jerry Springer, Last Call, Three Stooges

Sorry folks, but that’s it!  Drink up…

Good night Irene!

The final buzzer has sounded.

The horn has gone off.

The finish line has been crossed.

Turn out the lights, the party’s over!

No mas, No mas!

That’s it!

FINISHED!

I’m talking about the comments going back and forth over the neighborhood.

What’s done is done.

You’ve voiced your opinion,  it’s beginning to get tired! 

Whether you think the article in the Daily News was good or bad – this author isn’t taking any more comments on this bullshit! 

This is turning into Jerry Springer.

So wave bye-bye.

Go back to your ‘other’ blog and complain about how I didn’t approve of your rant. Do whatcha gotta do! 

Arrivederci, Ciao…

Peace!

-SF

Hoops135@hotmail.com

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