I ran
into an old friend the other day and we talked about all the people we
knew, some now sadly having departed this dimension.
We touched upon a time when I had contemplated
a sports career and was involved for some years with the New York Nets,
a basketball team now known as The Brooklyn Nets.
Our coach for the three years I worked there
was College Hall of Fame “Sweet” Lou Carnesecca, who as coach
of The St. John’s University “Red Men” boasted a record
of over 500 wins versus 200 losses over a 24-year period.
St. John’s basketball was represented
in the USA national finals every year that “Looie” was coach.
It all came back to both of us: the salad
years in sports, the people, and of course the great career of Carnesecca.
Looie still lives near us in Hollis, Queens,
New York, and at age 90 he still drives himself to the office he maintains
at St. John’s, where they named the basketball arena after him.
I was sad to learn that our mutual boss
and dear friend Roy Boe (see below) died some time ago.
Roy took the small fortune he earned after
his wife designed some clothes and parlayed it into purchasing The New
York Nets basketball franchise as part of the old American Basketball
Association (ABA).
But Roy never forgot sports or his love
for Lou Carnesseca, as he once told me:
“My dream of owning a major league
sports franchise was made complete as we were able to get Lou Carnesecca
here as our coach.
“To my mind, win or lose, he is among
the half-dozen greatest coaches the game has produced in its long and
illustrious history,” Roy said.
“I still talk to the players, hear
from Bill Melchioni and some others,” Sweet Lou said.
“Bill said some nice things about
Roy to writer Peter Vescey.”
“Let’s have a coffee,”
Sweet Lou said as he waved goodbye and was off to St. John’s for
an event, “and stay inside the foul lines,” the Coach advised.
“I can’t wait,” I replied,
saying, “Say hello to Rick Barry.” (Rick was a giant star
when he played for the Nets, before Roy signed “the franchise,”
Dr. Julius Erving.)
It is amazing when you see an old cherished
friend—time stands still.
I feel like that every time I see Richard
Malkin.
It also feels nice to be the junior member
of a conversation again.
Geoffrey
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