Mafia Joy

This morning I came to realize something about what I'll call "Mafia Joy."

Next month, on June 24 to be exact, my daughter and her husband—married just one year—will travel with a brother-in-law and his wife to Pittsburgh to stay for a couple of days with another of her brothers-in-law, Jeff. They were planning to see a baseball game, she told me, and Jeff would be trying to get tickets.

I had a bright idea and told her to tell Jeff to hold off on buying tickets for a while . . .

For several years until it dried up, I played in a big-stakes poker game. It dried up because after going through dozens of weak players who regularly lost their asses, we got down to just five steady winners, and at that point the games became a grind. (You'd need to be versed in poker things.) Poker is not gambling. At one point before the losers all left us, I'd won nineteen times in a row, sums from $100 to $2500—a pretty good tax-free Thursday night supplementary income. But that's all another story.

Bob Miano, a good friend, was another of the iron five. His wife, Cathy, is the niece of the Pittsburgh Pirates manager—I remembered talk of their getting seats in special boxes at home games and all that. So, just for the hell of it, I called Bobby this morning—I hadn't seen him or even spoken with him in about a year. I called his insurance agency in Rochester, got through his secretary to him right away by saying, "Just tell him his old friend Billy is calling," and our talk went something like this:

"Hey, Bobby, how the fuck you doing?"

"Hey, Billy, good to hear from you, I've been thinking about giving you a ring."

"Me, too, Billy, shit, I miss our games. How's the family?"

"Good, good."

"Hey, Bobby, look, I've got ten million and want to give it to the IABA [Bobby is President of the Italian American Businessmen's Association] for whatever, maybe for Columbus's five hundredth. Maybe we can get the tall ships to ride up the Canal to Brockport."

"Hey, Billy, we're doing it, we're getting the ships, we're flying a captain over from Italy."

"Shit, Bobby, I thought you and me and Jerry [another winner] would pilot one of those bambinos."

"Maybe we will."

"Look, Bobby, I won't keep you and bust up your business. Here's the deal. My daughter and her husband and another couple are going to Pittsburgh June 24th and want to see a ballgame. I'm not really following baseball and don't know if the Pirates are in first place or last place—"

"Second place—"

"And I don't even know if Cathy's uncle is still manager—"

"Sure is, Jimmy Leo—"

"Hey, great, and I was wondering if I could arrange maybe for some special tickets for the kids, you know, they could probably pick up some grandstand seats but it would sure make me happy if I could get them some great box seats or something, you know, I'd be glad to send you the dough in a hurry, of course—"

"Billy, we talk to Jimmy every week or two, and I'm sure we can get you tickets, maybe right behind home plate or beside the dugout. I can get back to you Friday the latest. And they won't cost you anything. How many do you need?"

"Five, Bobby, two couples and then the one brother in Pittsburgh."

"OK, Billy, five tickets for the night game on the 24th."

"Bobby, great, let me know how much, eh?"

"Billy, if I get them they won't cost you anything."

"Hey, Bobby, we'll buy you and Cathy dinner. Hey, man, thanks. I'll be at home any evening. You take care...