Keyboard Quarterbacks

By Mark La Monica

SEATTLE -- It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you, without a new addition to the Nicky Eyes Hit List. I had to travel all the way to the Pacific Northwest to do it, but alas, such is life.

Last week, I made Emerald City Kingpin friend Jay secure tickets to last night's Celtics-Sonics game. I know, I know, it's a regular-season NBA game, but at least it was Ray Allen's return to Seattle and I get to see Kevin Garnett play in person. Two perks. And then when Emerald City Kingpin friend Jay dropped the "third row on the floor" tickets on me, I felt even better about the decision to attend an NBA regular-season game.

No matter the arena, no matter the city, when you sit that close to the court, you greatly increase your chances of seeing and meeting people slightly more famous than you. Here in Seattle, that group consists pretty much of the Seattle Seahawks, Dr. McDreamy, Dr. Grey and Dr. Frasier Crane.

On this night, it was all Seahawks, all the time, Seattle Storm guard Sue Bird and George "The Iceman" Gervin. At the half, we walked on the court toward the VIP area (Row CC on the floor gets you that kind of access; of course, it also cost a dollar amount that I will not publish here to save Emerald City Kingpin friend Jay from the wrath of Lovely Wife Saira).

In the front row near where we walked was Seahawks receiver Nate Burleson. He was signing an autograph for a little kid.

"Nate, you're signing a Frank Gore Niners jersey. Are you serious?" I said.

"I know, it's terrible," Burleson said with a smile. "Go throw that out when you get home," he added.

"Nate, do me a favor and beat the Giants, please," I responded.

"Definitely," he said.

"What's up, guy?" I said.

Boom! No. 10 on the Nicky Eyes Hit List. I forgot just how easy it was to do that. John Manca would be proud.

For a more in-depth description of what we're talking about here, read the Nicky Eyes Hit List explainer.

P.S. Wally Szczerbiak, Cold Spring Harbor's finest, plays for the Sonics. I represented for all Long lslanders and started a "Cold Spring Har-bor!" chant. Of course, I was the only one doing it, but I know he heard it.

By Mark La Monica

I’m told Alex Rodriguez hit a three-run homer in the first inning on Saturday afternoon. The front page of Sunday sports section said so, as did the box score, the highlights on TV and the game stories in the paper.

I wouldn’t know, although I was five rows behind the plate as a paying customer along with Consultant friend Jay. Once I heard the crack of the bat and jumped up to watch the ball, I spotted Vanessa Minnillo sitting 12 feet to my left. I remember very little about the game after that. Allegedly, the Yankees won, 4-3.

Minnillo, an MTV VJ and host on the music station’s show “TRL,” a former Miss Teen USA and, of course, lady friend of shortstop of Derek Jeter is roughly seven times as ridiculously beautiful in person than on television.

But in between my prolonged bouts of polite staring at her, I noticed another bonus of sitting in the $115- top-deck-of-Titanic championship seats.

Two seats to the left of Minnillo was The King. No, not Elvis, Don, or Jerry Lawler. We’re talking about Jimmy “The King” Leyritz.

You may recall Leyritz as a former Yankee catcher. You, however, should recall Leyritz as the man who brought the Yankees back from despair in the 1996 World Series with a three-run homer to tie Game 4 in Atlanta.

As I wrote the day of the 2006 Yankees’ home opener: “It's virtually impossible to see Jimmy ‘The King’ Leyritz and not hear the clanking of metal his home run in Game 4 in Atlanta created 10 years ago.”

That’s as true today as it was then.

Upon the celebrity sightings brought about by A-Rod’s home run, the thoughts in my head went in this order:

- Dude, Jimmy, get out of my line of sight of Vanessa Minnillo.
- What’s Jeter got that I don’t have?
- I’m glad these seats were available at the ticket window today.
- I wonder if I can download the sound of Leyritz’s home run as a ringtone.
- Leyritz looks like he should be from Long Island.
- Nicky Eyes No. 9!

Leyritz worked the primo seating, chatting up Minnillo, Ron Darling and a few other not-as-recognizable people. He even signed some autographs for the regular people.

I couldn’t let the opportunity pass to add on to the Nicky Eyes Hit List, so I had to keep an eye on his whereabouts, an eye on Minnillo, an eye on the game and an ear on the crazy guy next to me who proudly ordered a non-alcoholic beer.

(For those not familiar with the Nicky Eyes Hit List, read the explainer.)

Leyritz got up in the seventh inning and began walking toward the exit. Here was my chance. I stood up. “Hey, Jimmy Leyritz!” I screamed. He looked in my direction. “What’s up, guy?!?”

He gave the head nod and low wave, acknowledging the fact that a) he heard me; b) he had no idea he just made the NEHL; and c) he appreciated still being appreciated by Yankee fans.

A few minutes later, here comes Leyritz back to his seat. Lookee here, bonus time!

Leyritz got up in the ninth inning and began walking toward the exit. Again, I stood up. “Hey, Jimmy Leyritz!” I screamed again. He looked in my direction again. “What’s up, guy?!?”

Minnillo left a few minutes after Leyritz, but my corneas were already burned out from staring at her for nine innings. Why couldn’t Farnsworth give up one more run and force extra innings?

By Mark La Monica

When you walk down to your seats at Madison Square Garden and they wind up being eight rows behind the St. John’s bench, you immediately have two thoughts:

1) “Dammmmmmmmmmmmn! These are some good seats.”

2) “OK, now how do I get those two open seats on the court?”

Upon completion of that second thought last Tuesday night for the St. John’s-Louisville game, I turned to Papa La Monica and suggested I try to get us those good seats.

Like all good Italians in New York, I know a guy who knows a guy. So I mulled around the area behind the Johnnies’ bench in search of my contact. No such luck. But, there was Johnnies and Knicks alum Mark Jackson, with his brother Troy. You know this Louisville alum better as Escalade from the And 1 streetball tour.

And look, there’s former St. John’s coach Brian Mahoney, who just so happens to be good friends with the guy I know. Things begin to look promising. Perhaps Papa La Monica and I would score those courtside seats.

But then I turned to my right and got sidetracked. There was Looie, aka legendary St. John’s basketball coach Lou Carnesecca. For those of us who grew up in the New York area and followed St. John’s, he’s everyone’s grandfather.

Out went the courtside seats idea and in came the Nicky Eyes Hit List. Surely, by now, loyal readers of this column could sense this was coming, regardless of the headline. (For further information as to the importance of this list, read paragraphs three and four of this link.)

When life presents such opportunity, it is incumbent upon us as humans to capitalize on them.

I extended my hand as many a fan of his has done in the past. Carnesecca extended his hand and we shook. Upon such a grip-and-grin photo op, I served up, "Hey, Looie, What’s up guy?"

Whammo!

No. 8 on the Nicky Eyes Hit List.

No courtside seats, though. But the Johnnies upset Rick Pitino’s Louisville and Carnesecca became the first person with a building named after him to join the Nicky Eyes Hit List. That’s quite a combo.
The list so far, in chronological order:
1. Gary Sheffield
2. Alex Rodriguez
3. Luis Sojo
4. Roger Federer
5. Gilbert Gottfried
6. Gianni Russo, aka Carlo Rizzi from "The Godfather."
(Props to Joey Colskore for that one)
7. Reggie Bush
8. Lou Carnesecca

By Mark La Monica

He's No. 5 in your program, No. 1 in your heart . . . and No. 7 on the Nicky Eyes Hit List.

Yes, it's true. USC running back Reggie Bush got caught in my maddening web of ridiculousness.

For those not keeping track over the past 18 months, it goes like this: Nicky Eyes is a character in "Goodfellas." He has one line in the movie: "What's up, guy?" He says it during the scene early on when
Henry Hill introduces all the people in the gang.

My goal is say to "What's up, guy?" to as many athletes and famous people as possible until either A) One of them calls me out on it or B) I actually meet and say it to John Manca, the man who played Nicky
Eyes.

It's fairly ridiculous, but it makes me laugh and it gives you something to read. The Nicky Eyes fantasy pool is not out of the realm of possibility.

As for its creation, well, after watching "Goodfellas" some 39 times, I started looking for random lines of quotability. This qualifies.

But there's an art to saying it to people. You can't just hit-and-run an athlete with it. That would be below the hard deck and Viper said that's a no-no.

This past Saturday at the Heisman Trophy presentation, I decided Bush would be the next name on the list. This is sort of like MTV's "Punk'd" with Ashton Kutcher, only slightly different and not televised and I'm not married to Demi Moore.

Plus, on this night, it appeared the Jets still had a chance to draft the best college running back since before people wore leg warmers, so Bush seemed relevant.

Bush entered the media room shortly after 9 p.m. and answered a number of questions form the horde. Then he did some one-on-ones with the Los Angeles newspapermen. Then some TV and radio.

A few moments after 10 p.m., Bush was wrapping up on the fourth anonymous cell phone of the evening, answering all the "How does it feel?" "Did you ever think . . .?" and "What about Matt and the NFL?"

The Heisman Trophy winner stood roughly 5 feet away to the northeast of me. To my left is the actual Heisman Trophy. Directly to my right was a large man with an earpiece and an itchy trigger finger.

La Monica's Law: When in the same room as a large man with an earpiece and an itchy trigger finger, befriend the large man with an earpiece and an itchy trigger finger.

"Snakeskin or alligator?" I asked the security guard. "I think snakeskin," he responded.

We're questioning Bush’s shoes, which go well with his sharp, blue pinstriped suit.

"I'm going with alligator," I said. "I gotta ask him. I'll bet you a buck."

"You really gonna ask him?" the security guard asked me.

"I really have no choice," I respond. "He's answered every other question and I'm already done with my work, so why not?"

Bush finishes his phone call and I move in. But, the USC sports information director steps in. Seems there's one more phone call to deal with.

He deals with it.

Then, the security guard, a Heisman secret service of sorts, snags Bush's attention.

"My friend here was one quick question," I hear him say to Bush.

My time to shine. Somewhere, Nicky Eyes is smiling.

"Reggie, I just have one question. Snakeskin or alligator?" I asked and pointed to his shoes.

"Aw, man, alligator," Bush said with a laugh, clearly relieved to have some fun with a reporter for a change. "C'mon, now."

I looked at the security guard. "Pay up, buddy."

I looked at Bush. "What's up, guy?"

And so we have No. 7 on the Nicky Eyes Hit List.

The list so far, in chronological order:

1. Gary Sheffield
2. Alex Rodriguez
3. Luis Sojo
4. Roger Federer
5. Gilbert Gottfried
6. Gianni Russo, aka Carlo Rizzi from "The Godfather."
(Props to Joey Colskore for that one)
7. Reggie Bush

By Mark La Monica

Ain’t no press conference like a Don King press conference because a Don King press conference don’t stop.

Nor does the inherent comedy involved in the sights and sounds that accompany The Don.

Caught up at the Hilton in midtown for the Online News Association conference today, I crossed paths with The Don. And Tessio. And Big P. And a bunch of other folks that made life on three hours of sleep worth living.

Sadly, The Don was not the keynote speaker. He was doing publicity for his roast by the Friars Club on Friday night.

After listening to a panel discussion about blogging, the blogosphere and every adjectival use of the word blog, I strolled the halls of the Hilton Hotel with Web friend Shawna.

We walked out into the foyer and there he was . . . The Don. In all his glory. In all his diamonds. In all his hair.

Not content with just being at a web conference –- translation: free day off disguised as occupational betterment -– I decided to act. It was time to blog.

“I think I should follow him,” I told Shawna.

I did. Up the escalator, into the press conference room, into what looked like the green room for some new reality show called “Gangsters and Gloves.”

Vincent Pastore was first up on stage for photo ops. You may know him as Angelo Ruggiero from the HBO film “Gotti.” But it’s more likely you remember him as Big P from HBO’s “The Sopranos.”

Why he was there, I’m not quite sure. But that’s a separate issue. He posed to the left. He posed to the right. Photographers shouted at him. They all wanted him to look into their lens.

“Hey, you want us to sing, too?” Pastore said.

The stoutness of a well-bred Italian man. The black suit. The black shirt. The black and red tie. This guy is a combination of Papa La Monica, Cousin Joe Manny and just about every guy I ever called Uncle.

His time on stage was done. But while sipping ginger ale at the fully loaded bar, he introduced himself to someone by saying “My name’s Omar Sharif."

Beyond ridiculous.

The madness continued.

Abe Vigoda strolled in. What Tessio from “The Godfather” has to do with this Don, I’m not at liberty to discuss.

The Don eventually made it on stage. His tuxedo shirt was roughly 12 degrees below zero, what with three diamond chains, an iced-out ring and matching American flag lapel pins. Diamond-studded, of course.

“Only in America, my man,” The Don boasted to no one in particular. He was a professional wrestler making his entrance. That was his tagline. Sort of like Hulk Hogan and his “What’cha gonna do when Hulkamania runs wild on you?”

Forget about the Stock Exchange at 9:30 a.m. This was the opening bell.

The Don didn’t have to speak. His presence walks into the room before even his hair. He smiled for anyone and everyone. And we do mean everyone. Gianni Russo, aka Carlo Rizzi from “The Godfather.” Leroy Nieman. Joe Frazier. David Dinkins. Danny Aiello. Michael Spinks.

Michael Spinks? I haven’t seen him since Mike Tyson destroyed him in 91 seconds back in 1988.

Then, slinking in from the side was Gilbert Gottfried. This was my nirvana.

“Hey, Johnny Crunch, what’s up guy?” I said.

“Oh, so you’re the one who saw the movie?” he said.

This was indeed the funniest and most surreal moment of my life. I just called Gilbert Gottfried by his character’s name in the Andrew Dice Clay movie “The Adventures of Ford Fairlane.”

He responded, even-keeled the entire time. Not sure if he appreciated getting checked like that, but he seemed impressed by the obscure reference.

Plus, Gottfried claimed the fifth spot on my Nicky Eyes Hit List. (Nicky Eyes has one line in “Goodfellas.” That line? “What’s up, guy?” Gottfried is the fifth celeb to be asked that question by me. This is monumental.)

Gottfried then asked if he should go up on stage and take a picture with The Don. Thinking of the joy that would bring to the masses, I encouraged such an endeavor. He obliged. Gottfried put on a pair of boxing gloves and pretended to punch The Don.

My life is one step closer to completeness.

Thirty years on Earth, with proximity to Flushing Meadows for all of those 30 years, and Wednesday was my first trip to the U.S. Open.

An event of this magnitude and I wait this long to cash in on its magic. Sad, huh?

At least I lucked into a Maria Sharapova match during the day session.

Here are some observations from a first-time U.S. Open observer:

* Lindsay Davenport walked among the people and was not harassed by fans. What other sport would afford its top-ranked player such peacefulness at a major event? Let's see A-Rod do that!

* You wouldn't think rapper Missy Elliott would figure into a major tennis event, but there her song "Lose Control" was playing on the loudspeakers in Arthur Ashe Stadium between Kim Clisters' and Maria Sharapova's matches.

* The "tennis clap" appears to be the "golf clap" on steroids.

* Martini bars around the grounds as the National Tennis Center are a nice touch. In a related note, tequila shots are also available.

* If you're wondering why tennis broadcasters speak in hushed tones on air, it's because if they didn't, the entire stadium could hear them.

* When planes aren't flying overhead, the courts are so quiet, you can hear the person next to you thinking.

* Sharapova really isn't that hot.

* I'd like to nominate the above sentence for the Jayson Blair Hall of Fame

* During Sharapova's match, the 34-plus photographers in the pit had their lenses aimed Maria, rendering her opponent Dally Randriantefy a non-entity. They were all there to get "that shot" -- the career-defining photo of the reigning queen of tennis. Sadly, some are just hoping to catch Sharapova leaning over a little too far or her shorts ride up just a bit in the posterior.

* Being that this is New York, one of the top five guido cities in America, will they play TKA's freestyle hit "Maria" if Sharapova wins the title?

* If you see any published photos of Randriantefy, you're liking reading a Madagascar newspaper or Web site.

* You have to feel bad for Randriantefy, who through no fault of her own, had to deal with a pro-Sharapova crowd. If Randriantefy's family were in the stands, I can't guarantee they were rooting for her.

* Add Roger Federer to my "Nicky Eyes Hit List" -- those professional athletes to whom I've relayed the "Goodfellas" character's one line of "What's up, guy?"

* After each match, the winner does a quick interview on the court for all the fans in the stadium to hear. This is a nice touch, as are the autographed tennis balls they hit into the stands after the interview.

* Sharapova dropped bombs in her on-court interview. When asked about her game, Andy Roddick's loss and other tennis things: "That's tennis. Sometimes you play good, sometimes you play like crap."

* In order to experience the U.S. Open properly, a lot of pocket change is required.

* T-shirts cost nearly as much as a tank of gas.

* Outside their little universe, tennis players may be the most underrated athletes in sports.

E-mail me

Row A at Yankee Stadium means when Luis Sojo coached third base, "Oooooh, he's so close, it's like i'm having a cup of coffee with him in the kitchen," Mama La Monica said.

Row A at Yankee Stadium means when $252 million Alex Rodriguez made the first of his two errors Wednesday afternoon and got yelled at by fans, "This is like going into IBM and yelling at the chairman," Papa La Monica said.

Row A at Yankee Stadium means when Alex Rodriguez made the second of his two errors Wednesday afternoon, he had no choice but to hear one fan yell out, "Pagliarulo would've made that play."

I was that fan. Life in the front row is pretty cool. Not that I'm an A-Rod hater, but he made two huge mistakes and had to be called out on it by a fan who knows what it's like to sit in the upper deck's Row U (that's pretty much above the lights) and Row W (that is pretty much on the moon) for a game.

But this was Row A. Time to capitalize on the opportunity.

Papa La Monica scored tickets along the third-base line for Wednesday's game. It was Papa La Monica's birthday, too, making it even more fun.

Ever watch a game on television and say to yourself "How did those people get those seats?" when the cameras pan around the first few rows. These were those seats. We were those people.

This was a Bob Uecker commercial come to life. Whoa! We really must be in the front row.

Mama La Monica, excited enough to be within the same zip code as Derek Jeter, even waved and yelled out to Skippy, the left-field ball boy.

In this gated community, (OK, it was chained off but in a stadium built in 1923, you take what you can get), the seats are cushioned. Typically, I have to bring my own patoot-softening device.

In this oh-so-chic section, you get served. Typically, I have to go rent the movie.

A Stadium employee runs around with some sort of Palm Pilot situation and takes your order. Menus are available, stuck in the cup holder. Cup holder? Cup holder! Typically, I have to bring a safe to the Stadium to store my $5 souvenir cup of soda under my seat so I don't have to worry about Coke-soaked peanut shells and soda-saturated sneakers.

In this posh part, the only people sitting in front of you are the corporate clowns that paid a lot of money to sit in the seats that were installed several years ago so that corporate clowns could pay a lot of money to sit the seats. Most of these fans bought an unlimited-ride Metrocard on the bandwagon.

Since that's a man-made hazard and therefore not part of the original infrastructure of the Stadium, it can't change the fact that we're sitting in Row A and they're not.

(Note: When those corporate clowns left after the 7th inning - how predictable! - Papa La Monica and I jumped down to their seats. It's a pretty cool view.)

Having chair service is an interesting experience for a family that used to save enough coupons from the Dellwood milk cartons just to get four free seats in the upper deck. The Stadium accepts credit cards down there in Row A, so I had to charge something while sitting down there in Row A if for no other reason than I could charge something while sitting down there in Row A.

But, I also had to get up and buy something from the concession stand. Mama La Monica wondered why. Two reasons:

1) I never forget where I came from, which is somewhere in the tier reserved section (that's the upper part of the upper deck).

2) I wanted the security guy to stop me trying to come back to my seat so I could show him my ticket, drop a Lil Jon/Chappelle "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?" on him, and then walk past all those other lettered rows and resume my game-watching from the comfortable position of Row f-bombing A!

The game began and I offered my obligatory "What's up, guy?" to A-Rod, Jeter and Sojo. More importantly, I know they heard me. That makes four Yankees to hear my signature line (sure, it's stolen from Nicky Eyes in "Goodfellas," but I'm more famous than the actor who played him, so it's mine now). Gary Sheffield was the first, back when I got booed at Yankee Stadium. So far, I've received zero responses. Not even a complimentary "Howyuzdoin?"

Oh well. I can live with that. I'm in Row A.

Brother La Monica joked before we left for the game that he was taking all the money from his accounts and betting it on the Mariners. This seemed a smart play, considering Papa La Monica is better known as Frankie Mush when it comes to Yankees games. He's 0-2 this season, and roughly 2-35 since we started going to games as a family in the early 1980s. One of those two losses this season was the Mariano Rivera five-run ninth inning against the Red Sox. Mama La Monica had no choice but to go 0-2 this year, as well.

Case in point: In the early 1990s (or maybe it was the late 1980s, we're not quite sure anymore), Papa La Monica had to work in San Francisco for a few summer months. The Yankees were on a West Coast trip and went 10-1. The one game they lost was the Oakland. Yep, he was there. Frankie Mush!

I clearly inherited his genes. I was 0-2 this season, with those losses being a blowout by Baltimore and a Randy Johnson loss to Tampa Bay before Randy Johnson remembered he was Randy Johnson and not Randy Jackson, dog.

So, the La Monica family was 0-4, and clearly the betting parlors didn't know we were going to the game because the Yankees were still favored.

When the Mariners scored five runs in the first, we had no choice to laugh and blame Frankie Mush. So much for my theory of two negatives becoming a positive.

But, this was Row A, so let the game last 12 hours. I don't care. Boss friend Jon was kind enough to let me come to work late, but I had to add in a "Work on the laptop during the car ride home" clause for the commissioner to approve the trade.

Brother La Monica was telephoned with one out in the first inning and the Yankees trailing 5-0. He simply couldn't believe it. Well, he could believe it, which is why he couldn't believe. Such stark reality can appear imaginary when it happens live.

The Yankees rallied back for the 5-5 tie in the bottom of the first. Brother La Monica was telephoned. The Mariners took a 9-6 lead. Brother La Monica was telephoned. The Yankees tied it at 9. Brother La Monica was telephoned. The Yankees took a 12-9 lead. Brother La Monica was telephoned.

That Tino Martinez homered to tie it at 9 meant Mama La Monica made the right decision in wearing her new Tino Martinez shirt. She considered rocking the Jeter home jersey, but "Tino's doing good, so I had to wear my new shirt."

Can't argue with Mama La Monica, even if Mother's Day already passed.

The Yankees won, 13-9. We reversed the curse!

No more Frankie Mush. Well, at least for one afternoon.

Row A means the next time I go to a game at the Stadium, I'll be back with the steerage. Row A means it was definitely worth it.