Author Archives: Alfie

…having come of age in Philadelphia during the fifties, I knew ‘those guys’. They were family, neighbors and friends…especially at 7th and Mountain St. in South Philly where pop had his place of business, and 11th and Wolf where my grandparents and selected family resided. In some ways, those characters became influential in what I would eventually come to embrace. I was of them but wasn’t one of them. While our dad was loosely ‘connected’, it was mom who kept my brother Jimmy and me on a very tight leash, but the lessons gleaned from the ‘wise guys’ have proven to be invaluable. Of those ‘street urchins’, the one who best represents that which is right (not necessarily lawful) is Mario Puzzo’s fictional character, Vito Corleone. No institution of higher learning has formally recognized the great skill and leadership of the “Godfather.” In the future, maybe we’ll see the University of Nevada’s Corleone Graduate School of Business and Management. I don’t think so, but what an endowment! Continue reading →

 

…my last official duty in academia and athletics was fulfilled at the conclusion of the ’84 Olympic Games in Los Angeles where I was the manager at the Gymnastics Venue for the Awards Ceremonies. That position was the result of a recommendation from my close friend, Gordon Maddux who was the long time color commentator for ABC’s gymnastics programming. I had nine months of part time work at DSI while still teaching at Cal State LA for six, but was now ready to fully engage my new enterprise. I was anxious, scared and dangerous. Yes…dangerous! With a newly minted securities license and very little experience, I was comparable to that 16 year old kid who is given keys to the liquor cabinet and a Maserati…simultaneously and without instruction. I had little to no direction which was dramatically different from what I anticipated. When I attempted to schedule my usual tax appointment with Hank, my financial advisor and now DSI Branch Manager, he said, “Find another guy. You need to establish your own network of financial professionals.” I thought he was kidding. Continue reading →

…just how does an ol’ coach go from 20 years in academia, athletics and education go to the world of high finance? This is a story that has its beginnings in 1966 at the Covina Hofbrau Restaurant. Continue reading →

From Riches to Rags

… having proudly entered those hallowed halls of the academy through the front door at age 29 in the Summer Quarter of 1972, I exited through a basement window at the end of Spring Quarter, 1984… defeated, humiliated and angry.  I was 41 years old and that departure shaped the rest of my life.  I served as a professor, coach and administrator in the Department of Physical Education and Athletics at California State University, Los Angeles for 12 years and in the end, it nearly killed me. Continue reading →

Leaving Norman, OK

 …John and I began planning our move to LA in early August of ’66 and departed for the coast two weeks later. I traded my ‘61 Chevy for the “Green Hornet”, that ’59 Ford station wagon (with air) of which I previously spoke…yeah boy! We had a few hundred dollars between us including the loose change located behind the front bench seat. John procured maps of Route 66; we wrote letters to our respective families; said our goodbyes and expressed thanks to all with whom we enjoyed the past year while in Norman. On the evening prior to setting out on our adventure, we were invited to dinner at Lucy’s apartment (not her real name to protect the innocent) which was directly overhead from ours…a very surprising invitation given that we ogled this girl regularly but never spoke. We feared rejection. Lucy was a ‘drop dead gorgeous’ Native American graduate student studying sociology whom we believed did not know we existed and now, she was having us up for dinner! We assumed all of the guys in the complex tried to date her but our guess was none were successful. Lucy was a tall, slender sexy beast with a great hard body and striking long, black, thick, shiny hair that settled just above her waist and it glistened. You just wanted to nap in it. Prior to that evening, we had not exchanged two words although I definitely knew who she was…but, clearly out of my league. Continue reading →

The back story:

… how a native Philly boy winds up in Norman, Oklahoma is still a bit of a mystery, but in the grand scheme of things, a great personal decision. I was a mid year bachelor’s recipient at Temple University in January of ’65 and received my draft notice the month prior. I reported for my physical exam immediately in preparation for basic training. We were just entering the war in Southeast Asia and as an American citizen, I was more than willing to serve as one who enjoyed our precious freedoms, rights and privileges, but given the choice, I preferred to pursue my professional career. To that end, I received a long anticipated call from the Philadelphia Public School System’s Director of Physical Education/Athletics just days after that pre-induction physical offering me a teaching job at the James Rhoads public school in West Philadelphia. Continue reading →

…BMC in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania is the place where I began that seminal transition from ‘insecure, skinny, immature, wise ass high school kid’ to something much different and a bit better.  That transformative process took place over six summers and started at age 18.  My initial job was to wait tables for campers, counselors and administrative staff during the summer of 1960. I was six months removed from high school, and ready to begin my freshman year at Temple University in the fall as a physical education major. My admission to the university was on a conditional and ‘non-matriculating’ basis. In higher education, that is code for, “we think you are smart enough to succeed in college being a Central High School grad and your SAT scores are strong, but your grades are less than impressive, so, show us.”  As a freshman, I enrolled as an evening student taking three general education courses while working full time driving a delivery truck for a dry cleaner (Paul Pitsonis, a wonderful man) with hopes of matriculating to full time student status in the spring semester of 1961.  Success!  I performed quite well in those classes and was admitted unconditionally and was now on my way. Continue reading →

…how do two young high school coaches new to LA spend a day off?  You’re right…playing basketball at the Pasadena Athletic Club.  On Washington’s birthday of 1967, my bud John and I were a bit parched after running full court for four or five hours and we were enthusiastically seeking refreshment whereupon we stumbled into Shaps…a watering hole on Colorado Blvd. in east Pasadena.  What a find, and here we were without a shower or a change of clothes. As we approached the bar, it was apparent that we accidentally discovered the mother lode of ‘romantic opportunity.’ The joint was crawlin’ with babes and we thought it best to drink a quick beer or two and head for home since we were not prepared to play in that venue that night, but we were comin’ back for sure. Continue reading →

…I was born in South Philadelphia as the second and last son (and child) to Dominick and Marion Marino. I have one older brother, Jimmy, who is two years and eight months my senior. To understand me it is important to understand them…all of them. First is dad. A 5’ 2” first generation Italian/American with a third grade education. “Weasel,” as he was known on the street, was a quiet man with strong feelings about the way of the world. He earned his living illegally for most of his life as a numbers backer in South Philly. This was a ‘connected’ business which means it was part of something much bigger like…an Italian Club for men. The enterprise was really pretty innocent in that it wasn’t much more than a street lottery. I remember a time as an eight or nine year old when the new DA in Philly was trying to make a name for himself (not unlike Elliot Spitzer of “Hookergate” fame) by going after petty gambling crime. Names and pictures were published in the Philadelphia newspapers to not only expose the players, but to embarrass them. While pop was never mentioned, his take on this business was, “it’s all bullshit…just a show.” I remember him telling Jimmy and me that someday this whole numbers game thing was going to become legal and it would be the state of Pennsylvania who would create, approve and administer this business. Now there was a modern day Nostradamus. Continue reading →

The set up:

…and you thought Kinky Friedman was the only Jewish cowboy in America.  Ha!

The legend begins… While on one of our many backpacking trips into the eastern High Sierras, my good friend Bull thought we might vary it up a bit by going to Wyoming for our next venture.  After researching the Wind Rivers, he arranged for a meeting of the usual suspects to plan the trip which would ensue the following summer.  In mid July of 1990, seven of us found ourselves in Jackson Hole with lots of gear, two rental vans and mild anxiety about just where we were headed since no one had ever been to the area.  After a long day, we finally located the trail head at dusk and began our trek…in the rain…muddy trail…but in good spirits. Continue reading →

…for years I have mused and mostly joked about a non-existent, mythical and fantastic place called Alfieland where ‘Alfie’ (that would be me) creates the laws, rules and modus operandi for all of its citizens.  It is not for everyone, but for those who can pass the entrance exam, I think it might be a pretty cool place to reside…especially for Alfie who would essentially enjoy the station of ‘benevolent dictator.’ Then again, Emperor for Life’ has a nice ring.  I’d be the first to admit there is nothing inviting about being a citizen in a dictatorship, but Alfieland is not that of Pol Pot’s Cambodia or the like, but rather a place where all of its citizens are reasonably like minded about taking responsibility for themselves and those within in their charge like children, students, elderly parents, employees, etc.  That ‘like-mindedness’ is nothing more than applying common sense in how one may come at the world which has apparently gone mad.  Citizens in Alfieland are free willed rather than disciples who are sworn to loyalty and forced to subscribe to dogma and ideology of any kind. This is not Stepford. It is a place where individuality is respected.  If uncomfortable with life in Alfieland, any citizen may exit via a simple demand with or without cause and absent fear of reprisal.   Sound interesting? Continue reading →