John



Homeless

In a fast food check-out line with one of my tennis kids, I say to Victor, "Damn" Vic, I'm 4 cents short and I only have a $50.00 bill. (As a volunteer I ran a city authorized tennis program on Miami Beach.  (One of my stand out pupils, Tammy Encina, was featured in a two page center spread in the USTA monthly magazine.) Damn.  Do you have any change? " "Nope" "He says, "I don't have any money at all." An arm comes over my shoulder with a hand upside down, the finger tips coming to a point.  I put my hand underneath the finger tips which spread apart to let 4 pennies drop into my hand.  I turn and look.  Think of a slender, medium height black guy with unkempt whiskers who looks homeless.  "Thank you.  What's your name?" I ask.  He says, "John".  I say,   "John my name is Howard and this is Vic.  Very nice of you.  Thanks."

A coupla weeks later, John comes walking on the narrow walkway that cuts through the tennis center from 72nd street to 73rd street.  He looks smaller and skinnier than I remembered.

I see him and call out, "Hey John." He stops and looks at me while I walk over and ask, "What size shoes do you wear?" 

"My size is 8 & 1/2 but I wear any size." he says. 

I say, "well, I have some size 11 sneakers that are in pretty good shape.  Can you use them?"  "Sure." he says.   

"OK, I'll put them in my car.  Next time I see you, you can have them."

He starts staying in the park and the park kind of adopts him.  He is always polite, shows a quick wit and he is available to do stuff, if someone asks.  And he was always, always pleasant.  I might offer him a buck or so, which he always accepted with a certain grace considering, and I would always say something like,      " Now remember, this is not for food.  Not for food!  Got it.  Wine is OK, beer too or you know what you like, but no food."  He never had that surprised look again, the one he had the first time I said something dumb like that.

And then there was the time he went missing for about 8 days.  "John", I said when he showed up, "You didn't do something stupid like getting married or going to work did you?"

"No, no", he said,  "Don't worry,  I didn't take no job."

So he became kinda of a fixture. 

One time there was this kid who came running into the park.  You could see him through the uncovered high fence as he approached the gate. He looked like he was being chased.  John took a racket from a kid's bag, and handed it to the running kid.   He took it, without missing a step, and joined a doubles match, one court over, which was changing sides.  This made an odd man of one of the kids who had been playing. The odd guy slowly walked into the men's room as a policeman entered the park.. 
The policeman slowed down and then continued walking (and puffing) slowly down the path, scrutinizing all the kids.. He kept walking that way until he left the park through the exit gate on the 72nd street side.

Another day.  I'm talking to John and he tells me its his birthday on Saturday.  "No kidding," I say "How old are you going to be?"  "50", he says.  "50?" I ask?  "John" I say, "Wow, you don't look a day over 84". . . .  He never took offense at my smartass remarks.

Happy 50th John

On Saturday its drizzling a bit.  I go into the staff office and tell Darlene that its John's birthday. I ask if she will help me put some stuff together for a party.  She knows John and is very agreeable.  I go and come back from Publix with a chocolate cake, some candles, a few large bottles of pop, a bag of ice and bags of Doritos and Potato Chips and other like stuff and some paper plates and cups and . . . .

Back at the park I manage to get the stuff into the office unobserved and after we prepare everything I go and get John.  All the kids in the park gather and are watching.  Three of us pick up the card table with party stuff on it, carry it outside  and put it under the overhang and start singing,  "Happy birthday to you,  happy . . . . . ."

For a moment or two he doesn't get it .  We lite the 6 candles on the cake (1 for good luck, 1 for each 10 years.)  He doesn't know how to behave. We get him to make a wish and before we can say blow the candles out, he looks at me and I say, "Look John, its just a trick to get you to eat some food." 

He didn't cry or anything, but his eyes did look a little misty and then, he blew the candles out, with one pooff..

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LeBron. . . .A letter to:

3 Defenders??? Not enough!!!

(Thinking about LeBron evokes great memories.)
LeBron, except in sports, the childhood you reminisce about in your letter, that childhood ended when you left Cleveland.  It had nothing to do with the on court chemistry that happened in Miami. Having fun while playing basketball?  That ended for you too, when you left Miami.  Its all business now.  Hopefully things will come out the way you want them to now that you are back in Cleveland, but the odds are against you.  This may be hard for you to believe but there is a different world out there than the basketball one you lived in, especially the one you had with your Miami teammates. 

When you sat down with Dan Gilbert you were in over your head.  The real Gilbert was the one who revealed  himself when you left the Cavs.  That's was the real business world.  And I hope when you did sit down  to deal with him again, you  dealt with an understanding of who he was.  It looks like you might have done just that when you signed the kind of contract you can opt out of in the second year.  But watch your back.

That is such a hard thing for you to do by yourself, coming from a 4 year magical experience in front of adoring fans, with unbelievable teammates like Dwayne and Chris and the rest of the Heat.  The magic that happened, that wasn't you by yourself.  That was the whole team AND. . .That was Mickey Arison.  That was Pat Riley.  That was Eric Spoelstra. 

And the Shake?  That wasn't the Harlem Shake Lebron.  That was the Miami Shake.  And like so much of that other stuff, that was Miami.  You know what Miami's real nickname is; 'The Magic City'.  Wasn't your experience here, magic? 

What a wonderful experience we all had.  What a wonderful memory.

Look at me.  I'm in MIAMI !!!

 

Each time you watch the Miami Shake on the net you can see what all of us saw, the whole 40 to 50 million (and growing) of us viewers. Thank you for joining in with  us.  You did help increase the fun and I hope you can repeat generating that kind of memory.  I hope poop stays away from your door.  And  I  hope you win every game you play, on the floor and in life, except when your team is playing the Heat.
So here is what I have to say to you.  This time when you left, you left my team, the Heat.  And like the fans in Cleveland, I didn't like it, but here's the thing, its not so bad for me and Heat fans.  We can still do the Miami Shake and all the other Miami magic stuff.  But Cavs fans, they may have you back but they still live in Cleveland.  When you left the Cavs the fans were mad all right, but they also envied you.  To most of them, playing basketball as a  livelihood?  Living in Miami?  South Beach?  It can only be a dream.

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