A tip of the cap today to the late Henry Hill, who died Tuesday night. Hill was the basis for Ray Liotta’s character in “Goodfellas,” which is the best mob movie ever made (and yes, I’ve seen “The Godfather.” It’s a fantastic movie. “Goodfellas” is better. Here’s hoping wherever Hill eats his next meal in the afterlife, the chef doesn’t use too many onions.
I did something I never thought I’d do on Wednesday. But I guess it officially makes me a real New York City resident.
I bought a parking space. Yep, in a couple of weeks it’ll all be mine: a wonderful 12 feet by 20 feet piece of concrete, with one line on each side letting the whole freaking world know that THIS space belongs to me.
It’s always sounded crazy to me, buying a parking space. It seemed so silly; purchasing a hunk of ground when my whole life I’ve always found free spots.
But you know, I’m moving to Manhattan, I’ve got a car, and, well, it’s next to impossible to regularly find a legal parking space near my new apartment-building home.
And so I talked to a guy, got a great Groupon deal on a monthly rental, and here we are. (Hey, at least I didn’t have to pay what this guy is asking for a spot.)
So I now own a space. I feel like such a grown-up. I think I’ll just drive around and park in it for hours on my first day. Or maybe I’ll run outside on the street and yell at those poor schlubs trying to find a legal spot “Hey buddy, can’t find a spot? Sucks for you, I got one right here!”
**So there’s been a whole ton of hype lately about the 20th anniversary of the greatest basketball team ever assembled, the 1992 U.S. Olympic Dream Team.
It was the first time NBA players were allowed to play in the Olympics, and there’ll never be a better collection of hoops talent: Magic. Bird. Michael. Charles Barkley. Patrick Ewing. Karl Malone. And so on.
Their games were a joke, so lopsided were they. Their opponents were in awe, and the basketball they played was so beautiful.
The NBA TV channel did a fabulous documentary on the team last night (it re-airs Friday at 10:30 p.m., and a bunch more times after that), the gifted SI writer Jack McCallum has written a book about the squad, and my old colleague at SLAM magazine, Lang Whitaker, has penned this terrific oral history of the squad. There are some fantastic stories in here, about the day a team of college players whupped the Dream Team, about the egos that clashed at the beginning, and other good stuff.
Definitely a great read about a team that was truly the greatest ever.
**Finally today, I ranted a few weeks ago about the awful governor of Florida, Rick Scott, and his attempts to purge voters from the rolls in the state. Fortunately, we have The Daily Show and John Oliver on the case. Enjoy the hilarity here.