Trust ... The Doc … Abercrombie & Fitch … Obama's Hat Trick … Rangers-Brunettes …

Amici:

 

 

Trust … George V. Higgins’ 18th novel deals with a former college basketball athlete convicted of point shaving … Earl Beale is the consummate fuck-up; a guy who can’t get out of his own way, but will do whatever to whomever for the short money. Earl is selling cars for a living these days, a job his brother got him through a few connections. Earl’s brother doesn’t trust Earl. In fact, nobody does. Earl’s reputation is well known, even to his hooker girlfriend, so when Earl decides to blackmail her best customer with pictures, the plot twisting begins. The word trust is thrown around quite a bit, sometimes in sarcasm and sometimes with conviction, but this isn’t the classic Higgins tale.

 

Although it was very well received by the New York Times in its review, I found Trust to be somewhat less than what I expect when reading a Higgins book. To be fair, this was my second read of Trust, but it didn’t measure up to my favorite Higgins’ novels anymore this read than it did when I first read it. Yes, there’s the classic Higgins’ dialogue throughout, but because of the lack of action, this time it ran a bit stale. And three pages of narrative, when Higgins seems to stuff it down the reader’s throats, can be mind numbing.

 

I found the best scenes when Earl was selling a car to two woman, a mother and daughter, or when he was up against it on the phone with the guy he’s blackmailing. A scene with a cop early on nearly turned me off enough to stop reading, as it did the first time I read Trust, but I ventured on knowing what was yet to come.

 

I don’t recommend Trust to anyone other than Higgins fans (we always seem to find enough in a Higgins novel to satisfy), but, sorry to say, Trust remains a bit of a disappointment to me.

 

 

The Doc and I are planning another get-together … usually, how these things work is the following: Doc comes over 10-15 minutes late, which means I’m starving. We walk across the street to get a pizza. Doc makes several caustic comments about my weight and ability to bypass the lap band. We eat (my 6 slices to his 2) before I order another pie (at this point to be delivered because I’m too full to walk across the street again), which earns another caustic commentary or two.

 

Doc drinks anywhere from 20-30 can of Coor’s Light (he’s watching his figure, you know) … I smoke my pipe, which he makes fun of … I drink Diet Soda, which he makes fun of … and then the Principessa Ann Marie comes home and they discuss, ad nausea, flowers.

 

Yes, flowers … both think they’re Laura Dern in Jurassic Park … and I make fun of them.

 

Close to the end of his visit, the Doc will request coffee “with a wee bit of the dew from Tullamore” (Irish whiskey) …

 

But to honor my dear Mick—I mean, Irish friend, I recently wrote to tell him I’m basing a character in my new crime novel somewhat on him … except I’m making him Italian (eye-talian) … and to this, Mr. Warmth wrote back:

 

I'd love to be in one of your books, but do I have to be an eye-talian????? You know I don't even like eye-talians.

 

You can't translate my witty banter into Dago.

 

And if my character says "fuhgeddaboudit", I'll set your yuppy Volvo on fire.

 

 

Abercrombie & Fitch ... A scumbag outfit, pure and simple … click on the link to read about this insult to anyone they don’t consider “cool.”

 

 

 

Obama's Hat Trick … or maybe it's a trifecta ... El Jefe seems to have quite a bit of water he’s trying to keep his head above. The IRS scandal … Benghazi … and the latest addition to his list of Nobel Peace Prizes, The AP scandal … nothing quite like a transparent presidency … and it isn’t looking very good that the media seems to be observing this one from the sidelines. My last check at the NY Times site (Wednesday, May 15 @ 1:10 p.m.), the AP scandal is nowhere to be found on the front page. So, as of my last double-check to make sure, I’ll classify the NY Times in the same bracket as FOX Noise.

 

What to do?  Simple enough ... vote GREEN and get these two loser parties on the unemployment line where they belong.

 

 

 

Rangers-Brunettes ... Well, we don’t do anything very easily, do we? We dropped two to the Capitals in D.C. and had to win the next four out of five ... and we did it very convincingly with a game 7, 5-0 shutout (the second consecutive shutout by the King). Boston has taken game 1 of the semi-finals, but this one was difficult to watch. We’re the better team and had out-played them, except when it counted most, in OT. They have very big people, (Chara at 6’10” and Lucic at 6’9”) ... but guess what? Lucic skates like Lurch and we were playing it safe around the big goon. It seems obvious to me that speed will crush the Brunettes of Boston ... so how about keeping speed on the ice, Torts? Give Kreider a chance to score another 5 playoff goals the way he did last year.

 

We’ll know more Sunday, but I still see a Ranger domination of the Brunettes ... what happens after that appears to be pretty obvious ... either team runs into the speed skating, goal scoring machine that is the Pittsburgh Penguins ... tonight the first three goals scored by Pittsburgh came from Sidney Crosby ... a hat trick by the middle of the second period. How does anyone deal with that?

 

—Knucks

 

What I thought my wife deserved this morning when I got to work ...

 

 

Happy Mother’s Day ... Temporary Knucksline on Temporary Vacation ...

Amici:

 

Happy Mother’s Day to all a’yous mothers ... we’ll be visiting Momma Stella this afternoon.

 

We’re taking a short break ... but don’t forget to watch the Rangers-Capitals today (Sunday) at 4:30 p.m.

 

Go Rangers!

 

— Knucks

 

 

 

 

David Stern, where are you? … Big ups to Jason Collins ... Segregated Proms? … The Rangers ...

Amici:

 

 

Okay, so most of yous already know the Boston Celtics-Knicks story from Wednesday night. The Knicks arrived dressed in all black to symbolize a funeral for the Celtics. And they got what they deserved for being assholes—they lost. But the bigger story was what happened immediately after the game. Most of yous know I’m no NBA fan … nor am I a Carmelo Anthony fan … but what this guy has had to put up with twice now (at least twice) from the Boston Celtics goes way beyond what is anything close to reasonable . The fact he didn’t throw a punch nets him sainthood in my book.

 

During the season, Keven Garnett, in an attempt to “get into Carmelo Anthony’s head,” came out with this line while they were playing: “Your wife Tastes Like Honey Nut Cheerios." Apparently Anthony and his wife were separated at the time and the inference was that KG has slept with Anthony’s wife.

 

Anthony was justifiably incensed at the incident and immediately went after KG … long story short, he also went after him again outside the Celtics locker room … and it’s too bad he didn’t get to pummel the Big Ticket. Nobody wants to see fights on the courts anymore, and the league under David Stern has done a lot to control those situations. Yet the league continues to permit the kind of trash talking that almost has to lead to a fight.

 

TK says why not suspend a player for such inappropriate trash talking? Why allow a little shit bench warmer like Jordan Crawford attempt to take a starter (never mind superstar) out of the game by enticing a fight? And that’s exactly what the little shit bench warmer did after game 5 in the garden Wednesday night.

 

 

“Dat Motherfucker fucked your wife.”

 

Who wouldn’t punch a punk in the face for saying that? Why shouldn’t someone be punched in the face for saying that?

 

You want to clean up some of the WWE bullshit the NBA seems to encourage? I’m not talking about players who get their coaches fired and/or the chest pounding after a 7’0 footer stuffs a basket (what a challenge). I’m talking about the propensity of some NBA players to act as if they’re holding the microphone in the middle of a WWE event.

 

“Dat motherfucker fucked your wife.”

 

Really?

 

 

Above is the scrub who didn’t even play, not a single minute, in Game 5.

 

How do you expect any player, whether someone is saying crap about their wife, girlfriend, mother, father, kids, etc., never mind sexual orientation, color or ethnicity to walk away and be “professional.”

 

How about suspending the instigator in such situations for AT LEAST twice the amount of games the guy who punches him in the mouth gets? How about making it a hard and fast rule, the way dropping the gloves is in hockey, that should someone instigate a fight in such a crass way, they’re gone for either twice the amount of games the retaliator gets or they get an automatic 4 game suspension upon review of the tapes after the game?

 

Otherwise players who instigate fights in that manner really are rewarded (i.e., some scrub gets to take out another team’s starter). Make it a universal penalty, across the board. Had a rule like that been in place back when Kevin Garnett, classless moron that he is, started it with his WWE comment to Carmelo Anthony, (“Your wife tastes like honey nut cheerios?”), maybe the little scrub, Jordan Crawford, would have kept his trap shut.

 

You’re doing your league no service having players act like they’re in the schoolyard. When comments like Garnett’s and Crawford’s hit the press, you don’t gain fans, you lose them.

 

I don’t even care much for your league when it’s playing clean, but I’m way more inclined to pay attention when I’m watching players compete rather than some WWE pissing contest.

 

So, trash talking that crosses the line, whether there’s a response or not (physical or otherwise), the player gets to watch without pay for whatever amount of games will get the message across fastest. I guarantee if you put a rule like that in effect, you won’t have as many incidents like the one in Boston Wednesday night after the game, AND you might not turn off potential viewers.

 

The NBA has become a joke. I ONLY watch it between hockey periods and/or when there’s NOTHING else on television ... one of the reasons is the crap you seem to encourage by letting NBA basketball mirror the WWE.

 

I’m just sayin’ ...

 

 

 

Jason Collins ... Finally, a professional athlete comes out ... a beautiful thing all around. The support he’s getting from MOST of the NBA speaks volumes to the youth of the country ... finally, gay kids have a professional athlete to point to. Good for Jason and good for those who supported him. And for the assholes who will say stupid shit ... well, isn’t great the rest of the league/country thinks they are assholes for saying stupid shit?

 

The Jason Collins Sports Illustrated Article:

 

 

 

Segregated Proms … how is this still possible ... well, I guess in the deep south ... Good for the kids who fixed this fiasco.

 

—Knucks

Have no fear, Ranger fans ... that was as good as the Caps were gonna get last night ... we'll own them from here in ... Rangers in 5.

 

Go Rangers!

 

 

Mafiya goes Kindle … The Draft … The Rangers … Atlantic City …

Amici:

 

 

 

The Picture was handled by Anthony Caliendo. The book cover design is another beauty from David Terrenoire (contact him by clicking on this link). Great job by both Anthony and David …

 

Mafiya is available starting yesterday for two fazools ($2.00) … click here to purchase from kindle …

 

“Stella has crafted a true page-turner … Agnes is a flawed heroine, a refreshing change from too many lesser novels, and Stella remains a master of creating complex and believable characters. Stella has quickly become one of crime fiction's leading lights, and this latest effort will burnish that well-deserved reputation. A great book.” — Library Journal *Starred* Review

 

 

 

“Stella has been a “rising star” for some time now, and if his sixth thriller doesn’t place him in the firmament, it does confirm his rock-solid ability to deliver the goods...this revenge-driven tale will satisfy fans of strong women and contemporary crime—as you’ll guess from the title, the bad guys aren’t your father’s Mafia.” — Booklist

 

 

Captain Cally, burying the winner in OT!

 

The Rangers … they gave me a heart condition Thursday night when they blew a 2-0 lead and were down 3-2 with just under four minutes to play, but they came through with a goal to tie, and then Captain Callahan put home the winner in OT … so now we’re in the playoff tournament ... and who do we get in the first round? Let’s hope it’s not the Penguins … but if it is, I think it highly reprehensible that the Penguins allow that fellow with the broken jaw (the best player in the league—Sidney Crosby) to play while he’s still healing ... wait, take your time ... about 3 months or so … I mean, talk about capitalist exploitation …

 

How 'bout those Buffalo Bills!

 

 

The Draft … okay, so let’s all calm down. Of course the Bills will win the super bowl this year because of their first pick, E.J. Emanuel, QB … but the reason I only get excited for a few minutes is because there’s NOTHING to get excited about. NOBODY knows how these kids will do until they’re playing football in the NFL, and probably over a 2-3 year period. Yes, there are superstar phenomenal athletes like RG III and Andrew Luck … and there are also busts like Brian Bosworth (the Boz) and click on the link for this list of collegiate all-stars/NFL losers.

 

Just remember, arguably the best ever, Tom Brady, was picked in the 6th round ... Joe Montana went in the third round (and sat on the bench his first season) ... Aaron Rodgers had to wait until pick # 24 in the first round ... you see what I’m saying? Relax already.

 

But don’t feel too bad when our team (my beloved New York State Buffalo Bills, whips up on your team—the 31 other teams) because of E.J. … let’s just hope our GM, Buddy Nix, wasn’t spinning his magical ability to fuckup a cup of coffee … oy vey.

 

 

Atlantic City … the movie was great (in my top 15). “You should’ve seen the Atlantic Ocean in those days.” … but that’s what you should visit, the movie, not the actual city. This week we spent a night at one of the hotels off the boardwalk (not a smart move) …

 

The Borgota … I used to be a degenerate craps player (certifiable really) … between Las Vegas and Atlantic City, and a few after hour joints in Manhattan … but I came to my senses after taking bets for a few years … and like many former addicts, my former obsession became something I no longer understood others engaging in (i.e., the crusader syndrome, minus the preaching) … in any event, I don’t often go to Atlantic City … just two times over the last 10 years, and I NEVER gamble anymore (haven’t even played any of the 3 big horse races in a few years) … but the Principessa Ann Marie wanted a night out and away from Casa Stella, and since she found one of those fugazy cheap deals in the mail … it was off we went to the place most hyped in our small circle of AC devotees … The Borgota … my review won’t make them happy.

 

The room … In a word, “Meh” … if you’re not getting one of the cheap deals like my wife found in the mail (A Monday-Thursday $139.00 plus $100.00 back in food, etc.) ... forgetaboutit … after walking the dark hallways (it reminded me of a mausoleum), the room wasn’t much better. The TV remote, for one thing, took two service attempts to fix. The toilet was sealed off from the bathroom proper, with no air at all (so it felt like a sauna) … and although there was a nice size shower, there wasn’t a tub … I can’t imagine paying more than the cheap deal for a room in the Borgata … in total a “C-” (at best). There is a newer version of the same hotel, adjacent to it (The Water Club) but since there’s no boardwalk there either … I can’t imagine it being any better, no matter if the remotes work and/or the hallways aren’t lit like a cave.

 

The restaurants … what casino isn’t going to have good restaurants? We ate at Wolfgang Pucks, where a glass of water was $12.00 (I’m almost not kidding), so the $100 food rebate turns the $200 meal into a $100 meal … that’s the upside … the downside is I wouldn’t have eaten there in the first place … not with a gun to my head.

 

The casino … same as all of them … although there did seem to be lots of $.01 machines for those so broke they’re down to their literal last pennies … oy vey … but (and yet), the Principessa Ann Marie, “playing one for her sisters” dropped some coin in a $5.00 slot machine (the horror) … I (nor she) didn’t realize a) it was five fazools a spin … NOR did I (nor she) realize that when she tapped the little “Play Max” button, she was dropping $25.00 in about 2.1 seconds. Her husband was watching. He said, “Oh, Rockefeller, what the fuck?”

 

The Principessa insists had she won, I wouldn’t be breaking her shoes … which I did for the entire drive home, having fun quoting a few of my favorite lines (both sides of the conversations) from The Pope of Greenwich Village … to wit:

 

After passing through an EZ Pass lane:

 

“Hey, how come you didn’t tip?”

“Fuck that. What am I Santa Clause?”

 

“Big shot, Paulie … Big shot ...”

“You jinxed it Chaloots.”

 

Speaking of The Pope of Greenwich Village … you gotta love Paulie’s logic … I followed it like a champ back in the day

 

.

 

Where was I wrong?... If I figured I’d get caught, I’d be a thousand percent wrong …” We saw a comedy show that was another “Meh”; sometimes funny, sometimes not funny. There’s no point in grading anything else. We won’t be going back (probably to A.C. for a long time to come anyway), but if we do, it won’t be to the Borgata … you’re gonna go to Atlantic City, stay on the boardwalk so you can at least go for a walk and stare at the Atlantic Ocean.

 

 

—Knucks

 

In a time when workers have been screwed by their elected representatives (President Obama, et al), union leaders (Richard Trumka), and pretty much the public at large (which couldn’t be more ironic since most of us, duh, are workers) … here’s one from Il Trovatore … the anvil chorus … Let’s go to work now … with anvils … and hammers …

 

Beware the uptick in nationalism and/or Stand Your Ground ... In Giovanni’s Room ... is this man a jinx or what? …

Amici:

 

 

The last time we heard the frenzied chants of “USA! USA!”, a well oiled propaganda machine stirred our collective national pride into two wars of choice (one of which we’re still fighting). Too many of us believed, myself included, that Afghanistan was a training ground for terrorists, as if they couldn’t train anywhere else in the world, and that those schools needed to be eradicated. Too many of us believed, myself included, that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction they were about to unleash on us unless we took them out first. Too many of us believed, myself included, we were in imminent danger of being victimized by terrorism.

 

So, we stood our ground, if you will, and didn’t retreat. No, instead we went halfway around the world to pursue those who we were told would harm us ... and over the course of 12-13 years, the well oiled propaganda machine did its best to tell us we were winning, even when it was obvious nobody was winning ... then they told us the atrocities over there were merely collateral damage (because in war, innocent people die, too, etc.) … but the end result has been one tragedy heaped upon another, our kids dying and being maimed, their kids dying and being maimed, and nobody really believes anybody will be better off when we finally exit Afghanistan.

 

And if you believe we did something wonderful for Iraq, here’s something to take into account, especially in light of what happened in Boston this past Monday: In Iraq, the country we invaded by choice, as of January 19, 2013, there were an average of 6.4 civilian deaths per day caused by suicide attacks and car bombs in 2013.

 

What happened in Boston this past Monday was tragic. No matter the political cause and/or statement, the killing of innocent people can never be justified, not as collateral damage nor as primary targets, but that cannot apply to Americans only. The fact of the matter is we’re responsible for the same thing occurring on a daily basis in at least two countries we chose to war with, where innocents are killed by bombs daily, because our interference with their lives has left their countries in a state of chaos. And, no, we shouldn’t go back and try to straighten things out for them. We’ve done more than enough damage to all concerned.

 

We should remember what conservatives so often like to quote (from their hero, Ronald Reagan): “The nine most terrifying words in the English language are: ‘I'm from the government and I'm here to help.'” Does anyone really think the Iraqi’s are grateful for our help? Maybe the ones we greased with billions of now unaccounted for cash, but ask the average Iraqi what they think ... and do it soon, before they’re victims of another suicide bombing.

 

 

And this leads to what happened in the Boston Garden the night of the Bruins-Sabres game the other night. When everyone in the crowd belted out the national anthem, it was a spontaneous outpouring of emotion and support for the victims of the marathon bombings, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It was heartfelt and magical, but there was also a surge of national pride that gave me pause when the anthem was finished, and the “USA, USA” chants began. I thought, uh-oh, here we go again.

 

Let’s hope not.

 

The update to this post is that the second suspect has been captured. Excuse the lack of fire, I’ve been burned one too many times by political overzealousness to go to war. I’m glad the kid wasn’t killed.

 

 

Speaking of Stand Your Ground … excuse me for repeating myself, but ... need further proof it’s a disastrous law? Look back to the Iraq and Afghanistan wars of choice … our lives were in imminent danger … we had to get them before they got us … what we got was a 2nd and then 3rd Vietnam, way too many Americans killed, way too many maimed veterans, way too many innocent Iraqi and Afghani dead, two major contributors to our national debt, and a boom for defense contractors and flag manufacturers.

 

Stand your ground domestically has given gang members an out when they fight in the streets and has made chunky insurance underwriters/wannabe cops a lot braver than they’d be without a gun in their possession. We already have a self-defense law on the books. There’s no need to encourage morons who watch a few too many action movies to make themselves overnight celebrities. This isn’t about gun control. Outside of the common sense stuff (what some of our illustrious Senators ignored), I say the government should back off.

 

My beef with Stand Your Ground is about the right to kill on impulse …. shooting someone because somebody “thinks” their life is in danger. That’s just too vague a concept and can be stretched, as we’ve now experienced, halfway across the globe … and for what?

 

 

 

Your life is in imminent danger? You sure, or you just think so? George Zimmerman felt the need to pursue a kid walking home from the store, even after the police told him to back off. Something happened after Zimmerman ignored the police directive that led to his shooting the kid. Zimmerman says his life was in imminent danger, even though he’s the one who was carrying a gun. The kid with the candy and soft drink doesn’t get to speak for himself, because he’s dead.

 

So maybe we should’ve nuked Iraq and Afghanistan and said they were about to shoot first.

 

You see what I’m saying? It’s bullshit. Whether Zimmerman’s life was in imminent danger or not, whether Iraq had WMD or not, whether the Taliban used Afghanistan to train the way we use Camp Lejeune to train marines ... you don’t shoot people (or go to war with them) on an impulse ... and we did.

 

In Giovanni’s Room … James Baldwin’s second novel was published in 1956, a time when homosexuality was not only buried from public view for fear of persecution, it was often buried in the souls of those yearning to come out. The protagonist (David) in Baldwin’s second novel is a man fighting his sexuality amidst the slings and arrows of a rigid society, and a father who wants to do right by his son, but wants for his son to be a man. David had a homosexual experience while growing up in Brooklyn. Immediately after spending a night with another boy, he became a bully to the same boy—mostly because of the self loathing shame he felt from what society had deemed verboten. Later on, continually having to fight off and inner urge to be with the opposite sex, David becomes engaged to a woman as a defense mechanism, and eventually flees to Paris to avoid school and to find himself. It is in the city of lights where he finds Giovanni, a gay bartender, and perhaps himself. Self denial turns tragic when he ultimately leaves Giovanni to re-prove himself a man. The drama that ensues is riveting. A wonderful novel that perhaps should be required reading in our high schools to help those young enough who hold a fear of homosexuality ... maybe they'll get over themselves; maybe they'll see the damage their unwillingness to accept what is normal sexual behavior for some … and if for no other reason than to help to avoid the individual self-loathing that can result from a society that scorns what they refuse to understand; if for no other reason than to keep a kid from feeling his or her only out is to leap from a bridge.

 

Get In Giovanni’s Room here …

 

Is this man a jinx or what? I was born a Mets fan … but when it came to football, at least when I first started watching it, I was a Packers fan because they were coached by a guy with a last name that ended in a vowel—Vince Lombardi. So, as I learned the rules and became a fan of the game, then started to play the game, Lombardi had already passed away and my loyalty to a team that played in Wisconsin seemed silly. Somewhere in my twenties, I decided to root, root, root, for the home team and since the Jets played at Shea Stadium along with the Mets, it was a natural transition to root for team Green. Because the Giants played at the old Skankie Stadium, there was no way I could root for them. Upon returning home post-college and getting married, I did what any self-respecting moron would do, I bought season tickets to the Jets during the Richard Todd era … but was it Richard Todd or me who jinxed the Jets?

When they moved to New Jersey, I wrote the Jet organization about what they could do with my season tickets … they didn’t write back. There was one team left in New York, the Buffalo Bills … and they sucked. The Bills were 2-14 in 1984, but they got to pick first in the next NFL draft. So, in 1985, we chose wisely … Bruce Smith … and the road to the good years began. I won’t go through my history with good old Mr. Wilson and my beloved New York State Buffalo Bills … 4 super bowl appearances (and losses) in a row isn’t anything to be proud of (sorry, it’s not). But they were arguably the best team in the league (perhaps of the decade if they had a Bill Parcells of their own), but Super Bowl frustration is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Putting it plainly: it is better you don’t get there.



Of course many years have since passed and the Bills are a year-to-year disaster, starting with the genius behind the moves these days, Buddy Nix … but hope springs eternal and it wouldn’t take much to climb the mountain with all the parity around the league.

And because the Principessa Ann Marie wants to see Niagara Falls at least once this lifetime, we’re heading upstate for the second game of the upcoming season ... my beloved New York State Buffalo Bills open with the Cheatriots on September 8, then follow with another home game against the Panthers on September 15. Why the Panthers and not the Choketriots, yous ask? Simple: I want to see my Bills lose by less than 30 ...

Enter my new love, the New York Rangers. 6 goals last night ... 7 so far tonight (after 2 periods--they finished with 8) ... more than what is usually our bi-monthly allotment, but hope springs eternal ... unless the Jinx is on ... for it seems the teams I fall in love with are immediately granted the kiss of death ... hopefully not during the playoffs ... if we don’t choke and miss them. Can we beat the Penguins, especially without their superstar, Sidney Crosby? I doubt it … but that’s why they play the games, Amci. See the L.A. Kings, last year’s Stanley Cup Champions … they were also 8th in their division (16th overall) and they went through the playoffs like a hot knife through butter ... all the way to the Stanley cup.

By the way … who the FOCK was Stanley?

—Knucks

Let’s get spiritual, amici ... with some Blind Faith ... In the Presence of the Lord ...

No texting while driving, please … Hubert Selby Jr. … Rutgers … Momma Stella and the Rangers ...

Amici:

 

 

It was a few months ago when I was almost run off a curve (driving from 287 onto 22 East) while driving to work by some bimbo who couldn’t stop herself from texting while driving. We were both doing about 55 MPH and were about an inch or two apart when we both realized she’d veered into my lane. I wound up an inch or two from the edge of the road to avoid her. I was really pissed off when I saw her little toy in her right hand, which remained high enough for her to get back to whatever held her interest. She was somewhere in her late twenties, maybe early thirties. She didn’t apologize or acknowledge she'd almost hit me. She just looked forward the way she should’ve been in the first place and drove away ... probably to the next area where she thought it was safe to reengage her texting.

 

The other day I counted 5 morons texting while I drove to work, not a single one of them under the age of 30; five adults who somehow felt it was more than okay to look anywhere but at the road while in slow moving traffic. Texting and driving ... it really should be a violation at least as bad as a DUI. Hopefully it already is. I can’t imagine how pissed-off I’d be if I saw someone texting (like the bimbette mentioned above) and they wound up hitting me. About a month ago, on 22 East, a guy in his mid-thirties was texting while we were stuck in heavy traffic in the right lane. I eventually drove around him and cut him off. I was as close to road rage as I can get. Fortunately, he didn't give me the finger or anything else (probably because he was absorbed in his conversation). I didn’t want to have to see him anywhere but in my rearview mirror. I was angry a good half hour later when I finally parked.

 

These clowns can always be spotted. Usually from the big gaps they leave between the cars in front of them. They’re so focused on their message, they don’t notice the rest of the world is still spinning.

 

I only wish it was legal to play bumper cars with assholes that text and drive … which would lead to some new job creation, compliments of the ugly one (moi). We hire people to go out in some beat-up used cars to give texters a little tough love bump when the violators are so busy texting they forget to move up in traffic. Just a little nudge, bumper to bumper … and should the texter waive his/her arms in frustration, the nudger gets to ram the silly son-of-a-bitch again, then make a citizens arrest ... and maybe impale them with a sharpened nightstick?

 

Okay, I jest ... well, not really. Maybe a citizens beating instead of an arrest ...

 

 

 

Keith Rawson on Hubert Selby Jr. … a fine column by author Keith Rawson on Hubert Selby Jr., author of Last Exit To Brooklyn … this was a must read book in Brooklyn the way knowing the lines of Honeymooner episodes was required back in the day. A tough as nails look at tough as nails subjects. Keith does a wonderful job in this piece.

 

 

Amazon link to Last Exit:

 

 

 

 

 

So here’s how the Rutgers scandal has thus far shaken out …

 

The guy who exposes the Rutgers basketball scandal, Eric Murdock, gets fired for insubordination ... and is sueing for wrongful termination. Think he has a case?

 

Mike Rice, the lunatic head coach, was finally fired, but gets $100,000 for making it to the end of the year.

 

The incompetent Athletic Director, Tim Pernetti, who allowed Mike Rice to make it to the end of the year? He gets $1.2 Million.

 

 

 

The fuck you want from me?

 

Robert Barchi, the incompetent President of the school who claims he didn’t bother looking at the video when it was first available to him, he gets to stay on the job as if he did something right.

 

 

Fatsos for Barchi!

 

AAAAAAAAAAAnd, the popular fatso governor of the state of New Jersey gave Barchi his support … does anyone ever wonder why New Jersey is considered the most corrupt state in the union?

 

Finally, there’s tiny Jimmy Martelli, the punk, shrimp-ass, little Napoleon “assistant coach” … although he isn’t getting any money, he did get to resign before being fired.

 

Most criminals will tell you: It’s a good country, America … it’s a very good country …

 

 

Momma Stella and the Rangers ...

 

Me: Ma, you gonna watch the Rangers Saturday night?

 

MS: Go scratch your ass, you and the rangers.

 

I love my Mommy!

 

 

—Knucks

 

Gustavo Dudamel ... he animated or what?

 

Rutgers ... the gift that keeps on giving ... Eric Murdock, “Pay him. Pay that man his money.”

Amici:

 

Still sneezing and loaded with congestion and all that other crap that goes along with being sick ... so it’s lots of reading, some feeble attempts at writing, and lots of ESPN ... which leads to the gift that keeps on giving (for drama lovers everywhere) ...

 

 

 

So, your kid is a high school athlete and he/she’s looking at colleges? Here’s an idea, cross Rutgers off the list. As it turns out, the latest reason Athletic Director Tim Pernetti should be fired, as if there needs to be another reason, has to do with—you guessed it, yet another video ... this one similar to the video that exposed Mike Rice to be a psychotic, out-of-control, bully. This time it’s one of Rice’s assistant coaches, the only one who coached under Rice in the past. An even smaller in stature man (talk about a Napoleon complex), little Jimmy Martelli (known by his players as “Baby Rice”), can also be seen abusing players just like his boss. Martelli is yet another exposed psychotic who not only worked for Rutgers, he was obviously protected by their incredibly incompetent athletic director, Tim Pernetti.

 

Both coaches were abusive and offensive, yet only one was suspended? So much for that careful investigation by the Rutgers athletic director.

 

Hmmm ...

 

Martelli was seen pulling the same crap as Rice (shoving players, throwing balls, using homophobic language, etc.), but he was neither fined nor suspended. So much for that investigation Pernetti called for when he first viewed the video. Pernetti took the situation so seriously he somehow missed what this little punk, Jimmy Martelli, was doing. Or maybe Martelli’s “rehabilitation” was being handled a different way?

 

To be fair, Martelli is pretty damn small and maybe Pernetti missed him on the video. Isn’t it an extra kick when a peanut punk like Martelli uses an authoritative position to bully men twice his size? Men who could use him for a bowling bowl ...

 

 

Okay, so TK figures the conversation between the genius running the school, President Robert Barchi, and his Athletic Director, Tim Pernetti, the day the video went public went something like this:

 

Barchi: Thanks for cutting my throat on ESPN’s Outside the Lines yesterday by telling the world you brought the video to me in December and that I also viewed it.

 

Pernetti: Come on, Bob, we can work this out. Let’s put our heads together.

 

Barchi: I never saw the tape until this week and you get to keep your job.

 

Pernetti: Deal.

 

Or maybe there was some cash involved. Who knows? Yesterday we all learned that Mike Rice gets a $100,000 bonus for finishing the season as the head coach of Rutgers. I can’t help but be reminded of the CEO’s on Wall Street who walked away with multi-million dollar BAILOUT bonuses after bankrupting their companies. I mean, it’s not like Rice did anything wonderful with the program. Rutgers finished 4 games under 500 (14-18).

 

Seems like a slap in the face a day for John and Jane Q. Public, doesn’t it?

 

There is a good apple in the bunch, however ... former NBA player, Eric Murdock, served as director of player personnel for the Rutgers basketball program. He’s the one who originally brought the complaints and the video to “eagle eye” Tim Pernetti, the Athletic Director who continues to avoid being fired (gee, we wonder how?) ... Read how the entire Rutgers fiasco came about here.

 

 

So, apparently Murdock wasn’t looking to shake down the program for $1,000,000 after all. What he apparently tried to do was repeatedly bring the Rice/Martelli situation to the attention of an athletic director who wanted to see nothing wrong with his hires and/or his program. Murdock, of course (sarcasm intended), was fired for "insubordination" ... if yous can believe it. Talk about wrongful terminations ... sweet Jesus, wouldn't you like to be his attorney?

Rutgers firing Murdock, then refusing his settlement offer, reminds me of a great scene (and sound advice) from Rounders ...

 

 

So why blame an entire school for the actions of a few, yous ask? Why suggest that parents of high school athletes cross Rutgers off their list? Because when corruption flows that heavy top to bottom, there’s nothing better to expect until the corruption is wiped clean. The Rutgers ship needs to be set back on course and for a long period of time. Parents shouldn’t have to gamble with their kids' futures. Firstly, it’s too expensive a mistake to make. You think the kids playing for Rutgers today are feeling good about their choice? Parents and the athletes themselves need to have all their doubts removed. Why risk sending their kids into the mess Rutgers basketball has become. And why should parents of football players, baseball players, swimmers, etc., feel any better? Tim Pernetti is still the athletic director, a position that covers all sports. If this clown remains at Rutgers, why would any parent entrust their kid to Rutgers?

 

Let Rutgers prove themselves first. Let them handle, say, a four year cycle of no scandals AFTER they clean house. If they could do that, I’d maybe consider sending my kid into one of their athletic programs. Maybe.

 

And if they’re not willing to clean house, then let them rot. Let the NCAA step in and do what they’re supposed to do, protect college athletes.

 

This scandal is an obvious cover-up, mostly because there’s a friggin’ VIDEO. It makes the cover-up at Penn State look humble—not what they covered-up, but the cover-up itself ... and the Penn State cover-up was about as obvious as they come.

 

It’s been two days since head coach Mike Rice was whacked. On Wednesday, Jimmy Martelli whacked himself from the program (like the coward he obviously is). Check that—diminutive coward. The Athletic Director and President cannot possibly last without the help of a corrupt board of directors. Then again, this is New Jersey, the most corrupt state in the union, so why not? This is one of those obvious clean house scenarios and anything less will leave a bigger stench on Rutgers athletics than the current load of bullshit Athletic Director Tim Pernetti continues to feed the media about “rehabilitation.” He was looking to rehabilitate the head coach while ignoring one of the assistants who was dishing out the same exact abuse ... because it was better for all involved?

 

Really?

 

Pernetti should be fired for cause. INCOMPETENCE comes to mind. And President Barchi should resign and/or be fired. End of story.

 

—Knucks

 

What should happen to the President and Athletic Director at Rutgers University is pretty obvious to everybody ... except the President and Athletic Director at Rutgers University ... and possibly its Board of Directors...