EDITORIAL

              Since it's raining for the third Saturday in a row, much like it did back in May, the editorial staff of the website thought that it might be a good time to run an expose', in the form of an editorial, that it's been cognizant of for a few weeks. The information garnered by the editors is being discerned now in light of recent actions at the Blacktop. As we all know, Jose Gonsalves goes by a number of different names (Jose The MVP, Ben Cartwright) and, as the Deputy Colonel of the largest gang in the state (no, not the Hell's Angels, the state police) he tends to have the ability to "sway" people into his way of thinking, whether through his skills of persuasion or, if need be, through strong-arm tactics. When you've got a gang the size of Jose's gang behind you, you tend to be in charge. Lately, Jose has been throwing his weight around, as far as authority is concerned, at the Blacktop, making up his own rules as he goes along. Thus far, due to his obvious gang affiliations, nobody, except one person, has had the guts to stand up to him and his abuse of power. Well, our staff has been doing a little digging into Jose's past (or is it passed?) and now realize why he's infatuated with his own power. Seems Mr. Gonsalves has been involved with a number of power brokers over the years. Our investigation first reveals a young (yeah, he was young once a long time ago) Jose involved with Al Capone, helping to run the rackets in the Windy City. After the IRS caught up with Scarface, Jose moved onto an affiliation with Bugsy Segal and actually helped found the city of Las Vegas. After Bugsy got clipped, Jose hung with Sam Giancana and was involved with Judith Exner in getting messages back and forth from Giancana to JFK in regards to trying to take out Fidel Castro (look up Judith Exner in Google and you'll see Jose mentioned). After Giancana bought the farm, Jose latched onto Paul Castellano and was there the night that Big Paulie was whacked at Sparks Steak joint in NYC. Look at some of the old pictures of these characters and, if you strain your eyes, there's Jose lurking in the background. Watch the History Channel or A&E when they do biographies of these characters and, if you pay close attention, you'll see Jose just in range of some of the camera shots. Why is our staff bringing this information to light at this time? Because Jose, not unlike John Gotti, Gerry Anguillo, Raymond Patriarca and Vito Corleone, has gone over the line with his power surge. Besides his obvious leadership position with the big gang (the state police), Jose is also the head of the smaller, but just as insidious, mob known as the Cartwrights. In conjunction with this smaller, but just as dangerous crew, Jose, or Ben as he's known in these circles, wields power and muscle over the Blacktop on Wednesday nights and Saturday mornings that Gotti could have only dreamed of. Ben makes his own rules at the Blacktop and everybody, or almost everybody, follows along, too afraid to rock the boat for fear of reprisals. Amazingly, even Jeff "The Assassin" Gardner has knuckled under and stood aside as Ben "Jose The MVP" Cartwright runs rampant at the Blacktop. Sure, The Assassin took a chaep shot at Ben last Wednesday night at the Blacktop and tripped Jose onto the asphalt, scuffing Ben up a little bit, but he only did it under the guise of a mistake. You don't want a connected guy like The MVP thinking that you actually tried to take him out, as we all know that Gardner really did. Speaking of Wednesday night, there was but one couragous man willing to stand up to Ben's reign of power that evening. As Ben flexed his muscles and ordered the ball taken out at the top of the key, only one person, not unlike the Chinese guy standing in front of the tank in Tienen Square in China a number of years ago, was willing to just say "No, this will not stand." Waiting for the backing of his "teammates" to help counteract Ben's godfather-like decisions, this lone contrarian was left hanging by his alleged comrades. They decided to take the route that John Connolly took with Whitey Bulger and be complicitous with the Blacktop godfather, Ben "Jose The MVP" Cartwright. In fact, in fear for his life for opposing the godfather of the Cartwright mob, this lone, heroic, person was forced to leave the Blacktop in mid-game, while his gutless teammates picked up The Chainsaw as a teammate and continued on, under the godfather's rules, without missing a beat. I never thought, in a million years, that I'd be saying this, but it's time for the Blacktop Commissioner, Stephen "Spec" Roberge, to come back to the Blacktop to try to wrestle control away from the godfather. Spec is the only person who can turn this lawlessness around and return the Blacktop to the state that it was in before Spec's tragic ankle injury. Back then, there were some basic rules to the game. If the amoeba press was being applied back during Spec's tenure, teams did the right thing and took the ball out at the point where it had gone out of bounds so that the press could be re-applied. With the Cartwright gang in charge, things are done however the godfather feels they should be done, regardless of any basic rules. My "teammate," William "Bingo" Shea stated that, in his Fall River experience, in a pick-up game the ball is routinely taken out at the top of the key. Well, I've played a little Fall River pick-up ball. How many pick-up games, in Fall River or anywhere else, impart the stategy of the amoeba? I've never seen it in any pick-up game anywhere, except for the Blacktop. Therefore, your opinion, expressed in the Guestbook Page, is off-point. Spec, we need you back, if not as a player at least as an honest arbiter of Blacktop rules. The godfather has expanded his power base onto the Blacktop and, with you and I teamed up, we can fight back for truth, justice and the American way. By the way Bingo, I will continue to put quotation marks around the word "teammates" whenever you are on my team in the future unless you stand up with me and Spec and turn this thing around.----------Soon, as has become customary, an interview with our last website patron, Norman "Hamhocks" deSilva. We sent Edward R. Murrow down to Dartmouth to sit down and discuss the Blacktop state of affairs with Hammy. So, stay tuned.      

THE STORY OF BINGO (borrowed, with alterations, from the late Lorne Greene) from the bad streets of Fall River

He lay face down in deSilva land, Clutching a six-gun in his hand

Shot from behind I thought he was dead, But under his heart was an ounce of lead

But a spark still burned so I used my knife, And late that night I saved the life of Bingo

I nursed him till the danger passed (past?), The days went by, he mended fast

Then from dawn till setting sun, He practiced with that deadly gun

And hour on hour I watch in awe, No human being could match the draw of Bingo

One day we rode the mountain crest, And I went east and he went west

I took to law and wore a star, While he shot jumpers near and far

With shooting and passing he gained such fame, Throughout the Blacktop they feared the name of Bingo

I knew someday I'd face the test, Which one of us would be the best

And sure enough the word came down, That he was holed up in the town

I left Jose's posse out in the street, And I went in alone to meet Bingo

They said my shooting was next to none, But my lightning draw had just begun

When I heard a blast that stung my wrist, The gun went flying from my fist

And I was looking down the bore, Of the deadly .44 of Bingo

They say that was the only time, That anyone had seen him smile

He slowly lowered his gun and then, He said to me, "We're even, friend"

And so at last I understood, That there was still a spark of good in Bingo 

Then, The Assassin took Bingo out unceremoniously! The End.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

                It was Men's Day at the Blacktop. During an October blizzard, in 41-degree temperatures, only the real men showed up to play some hoop at deSilva's. The roster on Men's Day was Don Corleone Ben "Jose The MVP" Cartwright, Jeffrey "The Assassin" Gardner, Chad "Stigmata" Pimental, Norman "Hamhocks" deSilva and yours truly. If your name isn't listed amongst those five, get your ovaries examined. Anyway, it was 2 on 2 halfcourt, in deference to Hamhocks' game, with one sub. Every game went into overtime, with some very competitive action. Hamhocks proved why his game is suited to halfcourt by hitting 72 % of his shots, including a couple of game-winners. I was featuring some new headgear, provided by Hamhocks, that should give me some credibility should I decide to take my game to Bed-Stuy, in New York. The cover, due to the fact that it was a little tight (unbelieveably), also made my eyes bug out like an old lady who has had too many facelifts. Anyway, after all of the close contests, and a number of backdoor scores against me by both Stigmata and The Assassin, the Don Corleone/yours truly team was established. The Don boldly declared that his team would win 4 in a row and then maybe let somebody else win one. The competition (Stigmata/Assassin, Stigmata/Hamhocks, Hamhocks/Assassin) scoffed at The Don's exuberance. But, just like The Don predicted, his team rattled off 4 straight victories before The MVP stated that he was done for the day due to a weak back (How long has he had it? Oh, about a week back). Hamhocks was done too due to chronic knee problems, so all that was left was for me to antagonize Hammy and The Assassin, the losers of the final game. As I went on about how the Assassin/Hamhocks team never stood a chance, and how we only humored them by letting them stay in the game the way that we did, all they could muster, in the way of a retort, was Hamhocks mumbling something about somebody going over his back on the last play of the game, which lead to the winning basket. At that point, we all adjourned into the comfort of Hamhocks' house to badmouth everybody who didn't have the cohonies to show up to play for the day. The Don decreed that college football would be watched and, as usual, his wish was everybody's command. As we sat there watching Wisconsin versus Illinois, I mentioned that it might be entertaining to watch the 2004 BoB tape. The Don didn't care much for the idea (he was enthralled with Wisconsin/Illinois), but eventually let us watch the tape.  At 1:30 pm, you'll never guess who walked into Hammy's house. No, not Jenna Jameson - Steve Roberge. As soon as Robes walked in, The Assassin, unable to hide his disdain for the former Commissioner, got up and left. I tried to hang in there for a while but, after trying to hide my true feelings regarding the former Commissioner for a period of time, I couldn't take it any more and got up and went home too. I don't know how long Stigmata and Hamhocks were able to bear hanging, post-play of course, with Robes. Not long I would imagine. There's only one thing that Robes can do to try to gain some measure of respect back at the Blacktop (if he had any before) and that's lace them up and put it on the line. But, since that's apparently never going to happen, Robes seems to be looked at with the type of scorn usually reserved for people like OJ Simpson and Michael Jackson. Robes, I barely knew ye. One final note: The Assassin's contusion, under his eye, seems to be healing nicely, although he does have somewhat of a shiner. Jeff's shiner kind of looks like the eye of the dog that "The Little Rascals" used to hang around with in their old films (if anybody remembers The Little Rascals).