Height: 5' 8"
Occupation: Securities Broker
Shank Type: Straight
Favorite Shot: Reverse layup
Claim to Fame: Fake shot to quick pass
|Martini: Now, Mike, you figure RJ's in demand?
Mike: What? NOOOOOOO! RJ? He ain't in demand . . . Broads don't GO for that anymore.
Martini: They used to, though.
Mike: Heheh, he SAID that too. Right ON the Court, that was said.
Martini: Christ, who else was there? I think it was just me, you, and RJ. I could be wrong, though.
Mike (giggling): I think so too.
Martini: If that bench could talk . . .
Mike (giggling more): I know.
Martini: Alright what?
Mike: Marrrrrtyyyy . . . Willie?
Martini: Go easy.
Mike: Alright now, take her easy.
Martini: Well, there's no way around this one. I can see it comin.
Mike: Marty, you mooned that guy.
Martini: Here we go. Well, if anybody knows about it, it's you. You were right there.
Mike: I know, heheheee. What was he like, "You kids take a hike!" or somethin?
Martini: Heh, yeah he's like, "Alright now you kids we're eating, put the ball away now yous get goin."
Mike (laughing): AYYYYYYY!!!!! They were havin that picnic or whatever.
Martini: Yeah, but jesus, what, we couldn't shoot?
Mike: I know.
Martini: Well Jenny lead that bon voyage song.
Mike (laughing): Ohhhhhh, Mahhrrrrrty . . . easy now! What that "Goodbye Willie"?
Martini: How bout that game of Truth or Dare, me, you, and your brother?
Mike: Ahhh, you remember that? By that tree? Aheh, what'd Mark have to pull out Aunt Anna's flowers?
Martini: Heheheh, well, he took the dare. (pause) You know that tree's not there anymore.
Mike: It's not?
Martini: Nah. BigBill had to cut it or somethin.
Mike: That thing had that sawed-off branch stickin out you could hang on.
Martini: I know. That thing was awesome.
Mike: That was a big fuckin tree.
Martini: Tell me about it.
Mike: At picnics there'd be all the pop around that thing in those big ice barrels. Thing saw some good times.
Martini: What were the best times?
Mike: After the games.
Martini: Just sittin around?
Mike: Just sittin around that tree by the bench all sweated, peeling a twig or pickin some grass or somethin, bullshittin. You know?
Martini: . . . people on the bench, on the ground --
Mike: Exactly --
Martini: . . . spittin . . . playin with bugs, just fuckin drawin shit in the dirt at the base of the bench with a stick -- and TALKIN.
Mike: Talkin til they had to go eat.
Martini: Til dark.
Mike: Yeah man.
Martini: What about the Spider?
Mike: Heeeyyyyyyyy RALPH! -- "AYYYYY MIGUEL!"
Martini: Mike, you ever get into any scuffles?
Mike: Yeah. I can't remember who it was. One a them kids from 23rd Street was like grabbin the net, tryin to hang on the rim. I told him to quit it like ten times. Kid told me to shut up. I DRILLED the kid, knocked em right into the shed. Uncle Red was outside readin the paper too.
Mike: Yeah . . . well, see, that's whatchu get, now. Kid was older than me too.
Martini: How bout when we made the field?
Mike: Oh that was awesome. We'd be ridin around in that tractor cart. That field was manicured. Dude, nobody had a playing field like that. Thing had a mound and shit . . . real bases . . .
Martini: At that point did the Court play second fiddle?
Mike: Ahhh, no. Nah-ah. We brought the basketball right along with the wifflebats. Like when they're weren't enough guys to play wiffleball or whatever, we'd be shootin around. We still played, like later on in the day, you know? A lotta those wiffleball games were day games anyway.
Martini: Would you go back to those times?
Mike: I'd LIKE to . . . but hey, you know . . . Marty, n-not everybody got to do what we did, you know? All these people in that town -- (pause). I dunno . . . We lived it.
Martini: Like the day is long.
Martini: Razor-sharp, unshakable, an intense presence on the Court at all times, Mike Pucci. What can I say? You're where it's at, man.
Mike: Hey, long live the Court.