Sam Elliott’s Hero within a Hero

 DATELINE:  Movies for the Older Audience

 Elliot & Ross The Hero    Katherine Ross & Sam Elliot

Film director Brett Haley seems to have cornered the senior citizen/golden-ager demographic with his latest film, The Hero.

It stars aged in wood cowboy actor Sam Elliot as an aged in wood cowboy star.

You couldn’t ask for a better representative of the old-fashioned saddletrap. Elliot relives part of his career with clips from a movie-within-a-movie called The Hero.

Whether he turns out to be the hero of his own life, the pages of Edna St. Vincent Millay may show. We are a sap when it comes to movies that use metaphors from Edna, as one of her bittersweet poems dominates the movie’s climax.

The film is partially based on Elliott and his career. Indeed, his wife Katharine Ross makes a rare film appearance as his ex-wife. She looks marvelous, but director Haley seems to give old stars a rebirth (see his earlier I’ll See You in My Dreams, with Barbara Bain, Mariette Hartley, and Elliott).

And, the plot revolves around his friendship with an old costar from a benighted TV series and his alienated daughter who is a bitter by-product of his past life.

Director Haley scores again with the geriatric performers. Max Gail shows up as the head of a Western fan movie group that honors the lead character with a ‘lifetime achievement’ award that no one has ever heard of. An aging fanbase hangs on for words of wisdom.

Silver-haired and silver-throated Sam Elliott’s Hero cowboy must face the grim diagnosis of his doctor and still maintain his star quality and prideful heroism. This is a masterful job of movie-making—but likely will be wasted on young viewers. It will resonate with generations of long ago.

 

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Old Doc Brady’s Homeopathic Remedies

 DATELINE:  Bad Book Advice?

 tom in lost horizon Lost Horizon-bound: Dear Tom

Medical experts are lambasting GOAT Tom Brady, also known around here as Old Doc Brady, for dispensing false medical information in his new best-selling book.

As a result, Tom took to defending his half-baked ghost-written book at the post-game presser. He knows what he knows—and he tells what he believes. Usually on the offense, Tom took up a defensive position.

Brady recommends hydrating to prevent sunburn. Doctors are incensed, if not downright burnt to a crisp over this fallacious advice.

Dressed all in black, like an undertaker or hangman, at a recent press conference, Dr. Tom defended his cure-all advice. He came across like Johnny Cash bad-ass.

Most people fail to realize Tom’s new book is actually a satire. It’s like James Hilton’s Lost Horizon, the novel about a fantasy world called Shangri-La.

The lost Himalayan city called Shangri-La is a place where people stay young forever, owing to some secret rejuvenation in the water. Who knew Tom’s hidden paradise is just north of Foxborough in Brookline.

In his private Shangri-La, as far as we know, Tom could be getting Serum from goat gland injections like old Somerset Maugham used to do. What better way to stay young for an old GOAT than to have goat serum!

If you follow Tom’s highly expensive regimen, you would end up spending $500 for Botox in each area treated. You’d spend $300 for his specially tailored pajamas. And his food program cost another $300 to $400 per month. You can never be too rich or too thin.

This homeopathic doc is certainly not the grizzled, but lovable, sawbones from Stagecoach, the classic movie. Tom sees himself as young Dr. Kildare.

Those trying to stay young forever would have a better chance of finding eternal youth by going to the Himalayan mountains than to follow Tom Brady’s secret recipe.

Whatever Happened to Agatha?

DATELINE:  1979 Vanessa Redgrave Movie

 agatha:vanessa Redgrave with Hoffman

The biopic movie about the mysterious disappearance of Agatha Christie remains a fairly puzzling non-explanation as can be found.

In Agatha, the Michael Apted movie is scruptiously produced and has big stars of the day in the key roles:  Timothy Dalton, fresh off James Bond, as Captain Christie, the unloving husband who drives his wife to distraction—and Dustin Hoffman as a no-nonsense American journalist who is hot on the trail of the missing mystery writer.

Vanessa Redgrave’s eyes steal the picture as the writer. Willowy, she is hardly like the real Agatha  who was a well-fed Miss Marple type. However, there are hints to indicate this is the same methodical writer who produced so many classics of fiction. Dame Agatha seems to apply her writing habits to orchestrating a disappearance that is inexplicable.

Mrs. Christie actually left her child for eleven days—and was dealing with her mother’s death at the time of her strange disappearance. Neither of these points is made in the movie.

All in all, the viewer is led to believe this was an insensitive publicity stunt, though the writer may have wanted to punish her husband who is having an affair—and Agatha may be researching how to do in her husband’s paramour.

Hoffman is physically dwarfed by the tall, elegant Redgrave, but he gives a sharp performance. However, he too seems to send mixed messages as to his real motives as Wally Stanton, a deceptive investigator. If the real Stanton looked like Hoffman, Christie would have seen her model for Hercule Poirot, a role Hoffman might have played with more relish.

Ultimately, this fictional theory about the incident of Christie’s weird disappearance is about as unsatisfying as you could give the audience.

Along the way, the performances are meant to distract and impress. Indeed, they do. If Christie had plotted this script, she would have done a better job.

(This entry is one of a series of blogs on Agatha Christie.)

Alfred Hitchcock & Agatha Christie: Never the Twain

DATELINE:  Giants in Separate Corners

   agatha       hitch

Recently the question came to us: Why did the two great forces of mystery and suspense never collaborate?

The answer may be surprising. They were both highly successful, popular and beloved: one in film and one in literature. They were both British, lived and died around the same time, and trod the same grounds of creativity.

A few claim Hitchcock was a misogynist: but his greatest collaborators were women (apart from his wife Alma). He enjoyed the works of Daphne DuMaurier (Rebecca, The Birds) and Patricia Highsmith (Strangers on a Train).

Apart from that fact, both Hitch and Agatha loved to use the setting of trains for their greatest works! Hitchcock could have directed Witness for the Prosecution in 1957, his peak, and most think he did direct it:  but it went to Billy Wilder who used Hitch’s techniques to great effect. Hitchcock could have directed Ten Little Indians in 1945, but chose to avoid the Christie works altogether.

Hitchcock told Francois Truffaut that he disliked the genre of the ‘who done it.’  He found it antithetical to his idea of what made for cinematic story-telling. He likened the genre to a crossword puzzle, with revealing clues as the main point of the story. It was bread and butter for Christie, but Hitchcock hated the notion and revealing the killer at the end of the story.

You may think two of Hitch’s intriguing films, at the least, were of the who done it school:  Psycho actually revealed who the killer was, but not in the way you expected it to be in the final reel. Stage Fright was one of Hitch’s least favorite films and he filmed it because he was told it was a Christie story, but turned out to be one of his weakest entries.

In Shadow of a Doubt in 1943, Hitchcock had two minor characters discuss how to murder each other—and referred to Hercule Poirot, the Belgian detective of Christie, in less than flattering terms.

It’s almost tragic that Hitchcock did not direct Witness for the Prosecution or Murder on the Orient Express to see how he might have handled the material. Both films are brilliant stories and wonderful films, but the echoes of Hitch are omnipresent.

So, we were left without any collaboration between the two greats of 20th century murder mystery. It’s not much of a mystery, but it is a tale of audience misfortune.

Holmesian Logic Applied to the Las Vegas Shooter

DATELINE: The Third Man or Stephen Paddock?

Welles as Third Man Welles as Harry Lime

A few friends have asked us to apply Sherlockian logic to the Las Vegas shooter case that has baffled so many people—and confounded police.

Authorities find Stephen Paddock a conundrum that defies profiles created by criminologists.

We deduce, first of all, that investigators have been probing deeply beyond obvious facts. The obvious often is deceptive and will mislead investigators.

After all, it was Sherlock Holmes who famously said that you need to eliminate all the impossible factors—and whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

We must ask ourselves, what is served by misery, violence, and fear?

Paddock’s actions justify a private revenge, making his secrets all the more imponderable.

So, what can we deduce about the man who had millions of dollars from life as a high roller? He was confident in the risks and his odds of beating them.

Paddock was a fugitive from the law of averages.

This was an angry man who felt disrespected by society, despite his success as a gambler. He felt his status as an older, white male gave him no advantage in terms of respectability. As the sands of life passed by, he was dissatisfied with his lot. He hated time. It was cheating him.

Over the years, he found the ease of beating the system put him above law and society. He won millions of dollars by playing games against those he felt were dolts of society.

Paddock mistrusted other people—and had no need for their assistance. He worked alone in his problem-solving. People were manipulated to serve his own goals.

Paddock was a coward. He could not face the people he loathed—those who found happiness in simple living. He preferred the edginess of risk-taking. Thus, like infamous fictional killer Harry Lime, he took up a high position to commit his crime.

If you recall, Lime looked down on people from the perspective of a Ferris-wheel where his victims looked like “dots.” The film is The Third Man. It was easy to dehumanize those who would die if they are merely squirming dots in a dark night.

The armaments at his crime scene suggest he knew this could be a “glorious” Waterloo for him, but the use of cameras indicate he planned for the possibility to beat the law of averages to kill again.

Is Cam Newton a Maroon?

DATELINE:  All Routes Lead to Idiocy

cam

In case you have forgotten, Cam Newton reminded you that it’s his picture you find next to the expression “Dumb Jock” in the Encyclopedia of Sports Idiocy.

In the immortal words of the great American philosopher Bugs Bunny: “What a maroon!”

Yes, Cam did it again at a press conference. He told everyone how funny it was to hear a female sports reporter talk about routes. Cam’s favorite movie is Where the Boys Are—because he knows the route, having gone that route many times for a few bucks.

Women never talk to Cam about anything of substance. In fact, Cam is more at home with the boys and shop talk where the only playbook he reads is mostly x and o demonstrated.

He is just another pretty face in a bubble head to match his bubble butt.

Cam will never be caught with a pencil behind his ear like a nerd. We doubt that he knows how to hold a pencil or can work anything out on paper.

Yes, Cam is extremely beautiful to look at, but you probably can’t take him many places unless he is on a leash and you have your doggie bag with you.

If football ends tomorrow for the Giant Fig Newton, he can always use those amazing talents to star in gay porn where a giant brain is the least of your worries.

Don’t get us wrong: we find Cam easy on the eyes and we have enough brains for the two of us.

Is Trump a Moron?

DATELINE:  Smarting Insults

rex Smarty Pants Rex Tillerson

After Secretary of State Rex Tillerson declined to refute the accusation that he privately called President Donald Trump a “moron,” we have to investigate the ramifications.

Kim Jung Un recently called Mr. Trump a “dotard.” It seems to be open season on the mental state of the MAGA-low-maniac’s personality.

Both moron and dotard used to be early 20th century terms used by prototypical psychologists. Then, the unwashed, deplorable public took up the words—thus rendering them on the lighter side of slander and libel.

Dotard used to refer to someone with Old Timers’ Disease in the old days before punchy and punch-drunk went the way of medical diagnosis.

Moron was frequently a level of retardation before that went down the tubes to emerge as Downs’ Syndrome. A moron used to be someone with the intellectual acuity of a ten-year-old. However, we have met some fairly sharp ten-year-olds—and feel that is a bum rap.

Our deplorable education system has finally resulted in a generation of deplorable voters electing a deplorable candidate. Let’s take quotes off the term moron.

Well, you know the term is often lumped in with idiot, imbecile, fool, clod, dullard, nitwit, dumbbell, jerk, and the all-purpose loser. It’s a big tent of disparaging terms proving all roads lead to Rome. You don’t need GPS to figure out that the map is littered with wrong turns.

We know Mr. Trump is lost in there somewhere. However, we have concluded he is most likely to respond to his favored sobriquet: son of a bitch, often used to delineate and denote NFL football players who have arthritic knees or pray for deliverance from “rednecks.”  But that’s another story.

Nikki Haley: Hatemonger

DATELINE:  Crypto-Nazi Emerges at UN

 NIcki Haley, armed & dangerous

Armed & Dangerous

UN ambassador Nikki Haley has now become Public Enemy #1 in the gay community of the United States. You might as well put her on an FBI wanted poster in every post office around the world.

With her vote in support of executing gay people, she put the United States in a basket of Deplorables with 12 of the most backward Arab states. Now our United States has joined the notorious group of repressive nations that are one step away from Nazi Germany’s execution of Jews.

When you advocate the genocide of a group of people, you are a Nazi, Ambassador Haley. You can’t put a pretty bow on it and claim that’s not what you did. It is exactly what your vote meant.

Not since Anita Bryant took on the Gay Community to her everlasting infamy of self-destruction, by throwing gay people out with the orange juice, has there been a woman who has become the face of gay scorn. Nicki Haley is the obvious Doppleganger of Anita Bryant.

Nikki Haley may be the first real casualty of the Trump political wars. She has effectively ended any future career in politics by joining the Trumpet Administration and becoming its new Crypto-Nazi, white supremacist pretty face.

Though she since insists her vote was not anti-gay, it’s hard to support voting against a resolution to call for NOT executing gay people for their lifestyles. She may think she has been misunderstood and misjudged. This is called self-delusion.

Welcome to the world of the LGBTQ community, where people are misjudged and misunderstood every day. Yes, Nikki Haley, that’s you, the face of the new Nazi-ism in America.

Stranger Bedfellow: Peyton Manning

DATELINE:  Super Bowl Hay Woven into Political Gold

At one point during the heyday of Tom Brady, way back when he was young, everyone thought that the future for Tom Brady, Donald Trump’s quondam friend would be a career in politics. He had the red hat and he had the swagger.

Trump even lobbied him as a husband for Ivanka a dozen years ago. Tom’s certainly a better catch than Jared Kushner.

There was inevitable talk he would seek a role in political office in Massachusetts, though the state is probably a tad more liberal for him than his actual politics. Tom doesn’t need deodorant because avocado ice cream smells better than it looks.

However, the Trump people may be more delighted with that pizza-slinging huckster-cum-politician Peyton Manning.

The man who plays more golf with Trump than Brady is a rank conservative icon. Yes, word is out that Tennessee may be needing a new senator next year–and Peyton Manning has a “Hail Mary” chance and pass in his future.

Considered highly popular among those who never kneel except in church, and well-known not just for his on-field antics, but his off-field commercials, he knows something about sound bites.

Jingles and jingoism are not alien to Peyton. Nationwide Insurance and health care are up his passer rating. Just ask him to hum a bar or two.

We wait to discover whether his conservative ultra-right positions will sit well with the American public in general.  We know they will likely sit quite well in Tennessee, where the Beverly Hillbillies originally hailed—and where bluegrass is unusually red around the neck.

Politics makes strange bedfellows, and nothing could be stranger than to find Tom Brady still playing in the NFL– and Peyton Manning in the United States Senate.

Author Tortorella Meets Stanley Cup

 DATELINE:  Kissmet & Rink Rats

                         Mike & Cup Mike Tortorella & Cup

Mike Tortorella, author of Rink Rats, the quintessential and legendary hockey novel, had an up close and personal meeting with the Stanley Cup recently.

The Pittsburgh Penguins are celebrating their NHL championship, and Tortorella’s classic book is back in print.

Each member of the Penguins team, players, coaches, and front-office staff, each has sole possession of the Cup for one day. Head Scout Al Santilli’s turn to host a private viewing of the Cup for friends occurred this week

Accompanied by security wherever the Cup goes, the Old Award is dented and shiny, but has an aura that reaches supernatural proportions among hockey fanatics. No one who has not won the trophy will go near it, let alone touch it.

Yes, if you are a young player, coming into contact with Lord Stanley’s Cup will curse you to never win it!

Professional players of all levels scrupulously adhere to the curse’s power.

Protocol also means only those who have won the Cup may hoist it above their heads, according to writer Tortorella, revealed in an exclusive interview.

Al Santilli hosted a little gathering of 20 friends for his day with the nearly 50-pound Cup, to which the author of Rink Rats was able to have a private audience, somewhat like a personal meeting with the Pope for hockey fans.

                        Penguin Championship ring                   Player Wives’ Necklace

Tortorella also was allowed to try on the Penguin’s dazzling, jewel encrusted championship ring, gaudy even by standards of bling in the 21st century world of sports. The Penguins also give the wives of players a lovely matching pendant necklace for standard evening wear.

Mike informs us that Rink Rats may be coming to the big screen, as several Hollywood producers have expressed interest in the book, which provides a unique look at a college team’s outrageous adventures.

Tortorella posed between life masks of Hitchcock and Vincent Price to help build Hollywood suspense for a movie script of Rink Rats.

movie rink rats

Brain Bankruptcy of Aaron Hernandez

DATELINE:  CTE, or Water on the Brain

abby Normal

The lawyer of Aaron Hernandez has just come out and said that Hernandez had what is essentially in the old-fashioned term of ‘severe water on the brain.’

By today’s standards this is called CTE and is brain degeneration caused by repeated concussions. Scientists and researchers call Hernandez one of the worst cases they had ever seen in such a young man.  It now seems the death findings on Hernandez may be the best deodorant for him and his murderous rage.

Yes, the concussions made him do it.

According to the VA-BU Brain Bank (no, we did not make this up), the 27-year-old former New England Patriot football player had the brain of a 67-year-old man. This is not good news if you’re a senior citizen on Social Security. It’s not good news if you are Roger Goodell. It’s not good news when the Patriots face a lawsuit.

Hernandez was in Stage III of CTE, out of four stages. His brain was undergoing some severe atrophy. This resulted in aggression, explosive behavior, out of control impulses, forgetfulness, depression, and other assorted cognitive changes. That just about covers it, short of murder and suicide.

As a consequence of this, attorney Jose Baez is suing the Patriots and the NFL on the behalf of Aaron Hernandez’s little daughter.

Who could not have sympathy for his three strikes of rage and murder if it’s all caused by playing football in the NFL?

So, it now seems that Aaron Hernandez is the ultimate victim.

In our 21st century twisted logic, this is someone who victimizes everyone else through no fault of his own, like Jack the Ripper, or Jeffrey Dahmer, or Caligula, or perhaps some other killer of your own choice.

There seems to be no better way to end this ongoing soap opera and slog-fest of a murder mystery.

We know they’ll be more dirt in the future, as much as it takes to make a scrimmage, or make us cringe

Biggest Emmy Losers: Despite Quality

DATELINE: Overblow Self-Congratulatory Emmy Awards

domestic life with Joan  westworld

How much we are out of touch with the modern Emmy voter!

The best miniseries this past year, in our humble estimation, were nominated for numerous awards.  However, they came away with next to nothing.

What happened?

We loved Westworld and Feud: Bette & Joan.  How could they do so badly in terms of winning awards?

Jonathan Nolan and Ryan Murphy went out of their way to create extraordinary worlds, with detail and sets that transported the characters and storylines to places both familiar and peculiar.

Westworld takes place in some distant, odd future where automatons are coming to have consciousness and will shed their bonds of slavery. Feud takes place in some distant past where the Golden Age of Hollywood is fading faster than old stars themselves.

Somewhere along the road to hell of good intentions, we found both series veering off into a ditch with the more unwashed members of the viewing public.

Clever doesn’t sell, and history’s lessons are lost on the 21st century cable viewers.

You might find a few root causes for trouble:  Murphy depicted great stars like Bette Davis and Joan Crawford as divas who became their own best performances. Nolan depicted robots, but we couldn’t tell them apart from real people. Susan Sarandon and Jessica Lange gave the performances of their lives, to no avail.

It didn’t help that Olivia De Havilland took umbrage with the way she was portrayed by Catherine Zeta-Jones.

All those women stars were passed over worse than Bette Davis by the studio system and archrival Crawford by the Oscars. It’s said that Mamacita Feud actress Jackie Hoffman pulled a Crawford and begged to accept Best Supporting Actress for anyone who couldn’t be present for the award, if she didn’t win.

Alas, winner Laura Dern was there: and Hoffman’s nasty wit overwhelmed her sense of good taste, worse than Groucho at his worst. She sore loser better than Joan.

Evan Rachel Wood and Thandie Newton might be the Davis-Crawford level stars in Westworld, though they did not actively compete against each other. They likely cancelled out the other in votes.

You had too much classical music in Westworld to suit the rocks-off bourgeoisie taste of TV audiences. Debussy’s ‘Reverie’ echoed through half the episodes, and audiences had no idea what it was or if they could tolerate it.

Perhaps these two series were not politically correct enough to suit the anti-Trump fervor in Hollywood. After all, the main antagonist of Westworld was a Trump-style billionaire with arrogant pretensions, played by Anthony Hopkins.

Jack Warner, played by nominee Stanley Tucci, was a minor-league Trump in Feud.

Time, the great equalizer, may still redeem the two mishandled losing series. They will be re-discovered by generations to come; you can count on it.

Tom Brady & his X-Men

 DATELINE:  Showing Finger to Referees

fingers #12 & Twelve Angry Men

Who said you can’t judge a book by its cover?

Tom Brady’s new book features his mug on the cover. It is an up close look at the wonderful results of his diet—when combined with Botox. There is much more than a pretty face here.

We presume this is his game face. It could also be the face that launched a thousand slot receivers.

Yet, by the second game of the season, the face had eyes that defied conventional vision. Tom Brady sees things few mortals can discern

He made an appalling pass that was intercepted. However, he immediately made a gesture of two fingers on one hand and one finger on the other—waving at the referees.

Yes, he saw twelve men on the field and was calling it to the attention of the officials for review. Of course, they missed it—but the television cameras and replay confirmed what no one else saw: Brady demoralized the New Orleans team with his super powers.

Even aging superstars are better than mortal men. It leads us to ask again who this strange visitor to our planet is.  Like ET, Brady will touch a whole bunch of new young receivers—and create another cadre of stargate receivers.

He may have lost his primary group through the ugly misfortune of gamma rays emitted from a broken mirror, but he is the epitome of quantam deflated footballs.

Tom could be seen on the sidelines talking to the assistant trainer about his injured Gronk. Never let it be said he is without sentiment.

Gronk may be down on the field again, but we saw him in two new commercials on TV this week. He will rise again.

 

 

Feud: Ryan Murphy & Olivia DeHavilland

DATELINE: Creepy Producer

 

coda

The spry legend, Miss Olivia DeHavilland whose Oscars outnumber anything Ryan Murphy will ever compile, has fired another volley at miniseries Feud: Joan & Bette, created by Mr. Murphy.

Right before the series is about to reap Emmy glory for its hilarious and entertaining depiction of two movie stars in a death throe struggle like scorpions, more turns of the screw emerge.

Miss DeHavilland’s character, ‘herself’ it appears, is a mere supporting figure. Yet, she does not like how she is portrayed. In a deposition through her lawyers, she tells the world she never called her sister, actress Joan Fontaine, ‘a bitch’ to any director or producer.

That may mean she used to term privately among friends, or even to hapless Joan Fontaine’s face, but her point is the script and series misrepresented her behavior. She said: “The false statements and unauthorized use of my name, identity and image by the creators of Feud have caused me discomfort, anxiety, embarrassment, and distress.”

Yes, being violated is like that, no matter what your age.

Murphy’s glad-hand attitude demeans Miss DeHavilland by calling her “Olivia,” despite her age, her position, and the fact that he never has met her, let alone sought her permission to use her as a figure in a docudrama.

In blatant admission, Murphy’s mouthpieces claim: “The fact that the words attributed to her and the purported endorsement are false does not transform the character into anything other than an exact depiction of de Havilland.”  Hunh?

That’s quite an admission: they know they have misused her by having her say words she never uttered, but it’s all for the profit of Ryan Murphy—and to give us viewers a few guffaws.

We wish to point out that Miss DeHavilland is a real human being, not an emblematic symbol like the White Whale, appearing in a work of fiction.

Murphy is betting that the 101-year old Oscar winner may pop off at any time—thus giving him the last word, which he will have anyhow as time will likely bestow on him the honor to be standing at the end of all this mess.

In all likelihood, the arrogant TV producer probably thought DeHavilland was already dead—and it didn’t matter how he used her identity.

What the old legend is showing here is that identity theft can occur in many ways:  when you profit from stealing someone’s personality, you’re a thief, Mr. Murphy. But, as Hollywood producers go, that is no crime at all.

 

Humor from Heaven: Brady’s New Book

DATELINE:  Up Close to Botox

botox forever

Just when you think there’s nothing funny to say about the New England Patriots with the new season beginning, like manna from heaven, Tom Brady gives us his new book.

Filled with bon mots but no bonbons, the book drops like the gentle rain from heaven. It’s nearly 300 Nietzchean pages long with lots of pictures. This is enough to sustain a good satirist for a year.

For those who thought Tom Brady was illiterate, how wrong you are. He admits to being a good solid B student in school. However, he had no interest in academics. His major in college was General Studies, who he thought was a Confederate Civil War hero.

How is this different from any other student?

Tom admits he never had time to read while he was in school because he had another passion: sports. Now that he’s a professional athlete he still has no time to read books, but he has time to hire somebody to write one. Hence, this book.

We do learn that there are athletes in the locker room who know how to read. Tom tells us that one of his teammates told him that ‘success’ comes before ‘work’ only in the dictionary. We looked it up. It’s true.

We also learn how Tom’s Godfather is the inimitable Willie McGinnest, no Al Pacino for sure. Tom doesn’t say Willie put any horse heads in anyone’s bed, but the Godfather did give Tom an introduction to his trainer. So, now we know where to place the blame.

This is only the beginning. As soon as the book is available on our Kindle reader we will be ordering a copy. It’s worth it’s weight in gold dust.