From: Al Subject: Palooza in retro All, Given a few days for perspective, and having a chance to take a nap and catch my breath, I just thought I'd jot down some rambling, though chronologically rambling, thoughts of AlbertPalooza. ********* It gets off to a modest beginning w/ Andy's arrival on Tues evening. Thanks again for dinner out that night at Cafe Strega... it was a great way to get the "weekend" started. Through some miracle, the pouring rain stops for a time on Wed afternoon, leaving a window open to squeeze in a round of golf. Assuming that Guy ever makes it, of course. He does, and we do get the round in, playing the last hole in the dark. Prep: "It sounded like it went right". I should have saved that round for later that weekend... that 80 was by far the best golf I would play that week! We pick Hans and Tom's golf clubs up at the airport, and head home for a late. It is hailing as we pull onto Ilana Lane, and I am cooking at the grill w/ an umbrella. Wed night dinner becomes an all-nighter. Prep, Fox, Willo, and Andy stay up until 5:30. Andy later says that Prep was the craziest of them all... he couldn't blame the alcohol for clouding his better judgement. A beautiful dawn breaks, and Winged Foot is a treat. We saw all the stars, and Andy is even able to get first round leader John Daly's autograph. Claims to have then suggested to Daly: "Hey, you look tight. Loosen up, have a beer." Off to the Hamps! OK, traffic was bit tough... all part of the NY/Hamptons experience! But, Willo, for God's sake, wake up behind that wheel, and hit that accelerator every now and then! Andy finally ditches him on the Throg's Neck Bridge, trusting (?) that their directions will get then there. We all make it, w/ Gabes and Sobo completing the group. Unpack, some beers, a dip in the pool, all a prelude to dinner out at La Casserola. Great Italian food, and tons of golf bets are made over glasses of wine. Unfortunately for me, I dutifully record them all... just the bookie in me coming out. Back to the house for beers, roto trades, SportsCenter/Baseball Tonight, etc. Another late night for some, out on the screened-in porch. My good night's sleep will do me no good in the morning. Great weather for the tourney, and a splendid time is had by all. Well, almost all. I play against Hans, who closes me out on 17 when my putt refuses to break, sitting a ball's width above the hole. Incredibly tight match overall. The team of Al/Prep/Willo/Fox each lose their individual matches against Hans/Sobo/Gabes/Andy, but none by more than 2 holes, w/ three by only 1 hole. And the teams amazingly tied their more important overall matches, both Total Strokes and Best Ball matches. And while any shot here or there could have made a difference, a missed 8 footer (tough sidehill/downhill) by Willo on 18 could have turned the entire match the other way. That would have won BOTH team matches (4 points) and halved his match w/ Gabes, giving the good guys a 4.5 to 3.5 win. But not to be, and we lose 6 to 2. Put another $25 on the right side of the ledger. It must be duly noted: Preppie takes Low Gross w/ an 88, edging out Al and Sobo w/ 89's. Willo takes the Low Net, his 93 adjusting down to 67, edging out Gabes by two stokes. Their names are being engraved and the plaques will be sent out to their homes. Take good care of them, and be sure to return w/ them next year. Personal highlight for me was watching my son Albert's 6 iron approach to the 18th green. Other golfers had finished and come back down 18th fairway, so he had a bit of a gallery as he hit it. Perfect trajectory, perhaps 120 yds up the hill, and ran perfectly to the back of the green, pin high. Best shot that a "Danza" had hit that day (That includes you, too, Guy!) By Friday afternoon, Guy has earned his "Billy" (as in "Billy the Poolboy") nickname. He cooked and served lunch, set up pool chairs, handled drinks... he was a helpful whirlwind, and social director, the entire weekend. Tennis becomes the hot attraction for Friday afternoon. Fox plays surprisingly well in a singles match against me (he hadn't played in years) before succumbing. Sobo and Larry take Guy and Hans in doubles, and then Fox and I take Sobo and Larry in consecutive sets of doubles, 6-4, 6-1. I would take on Hans the following morning in singles and beat him as well. I go undefeated on the courts for the weekend, but my major regret is that we were only betting on golf! Friday evening, we're off to Dockers... a bayside, decked restaurant/bar w/ a nice Friday evening crowd. A two piece band is cooking, and two "amateurs" from the crowd jump in to sing. One is good, the other is GREAT and she blasts out a Melissa Etheridge number w/ gutteral energy. Helps that she is a doll, and she has all the moves. Sobo has already memoralized the moment, but it bears repeating: As we all hold our beers, straing up to the bandstand, transfixed, Prep murmurs..."Yep, now this feels like Notre Dame". The true party dudes among the group... Guy, Albert, Gabes, Fox, Hans... head out around 11:00 to CPI's for some late night fun. We might have left a few minutes sooner, but a major crisis regarding Lupe' and a missing sandwhich at the Club needed to be addressed by President Hans. The Marshal Tucker Band is playing at CPI's that night, and the joke is that we will be the only ones in the joint who will remember who they WERE. A splendid time is had by all, and Guy meets two nice ladies, Betsy and Rose, who add some spice to the evening. Betsy's (pretty smile, nice legs) from near South Bend, she knew Rudy and had an extra's part in the film, and we meet the "dentist w/ the wrinkled pants" who turns out to be Prof Blakey's son and one of EIGHT kids in his family to have graduated ND. Guy lies and says he went there, too. Guy catches a ride home w/ them and offers a late night tour of the compound grounds. Florence, who has since arrived, just smiles and shakes her head at the cheap display of materialism and showmanship. The rest of us think it was a great move. Rumor has it that a card game almost, but didn't quite, break out back at the house that night. Florence gets her first tatse of Preppie's wittiness as he has a comment for every card he deals out. Sat brings a little variety to the days events. There is a fishing contingent heading off in two boats, w/ Guy the leader of that motley crew, brothers in law Vince and John added to the team. Al heads back to the links looking to recoup some of the previous day's losses, w/ Willo, Larry, and Hans. My favorite story on the fishing trip goes like this: Gabes hooks into one, and he brings a weakfish on board. The captain of thier boat is really excited: "Oh, he looks like a big one. He's got a lot of fight. Oh, man, that is a beauty... that is a trophy fish!" Gabes is beaming. A little later, the boat is being passed by another whose captain calls over: "You get anything?". Gabes' captain responds: "Just one little weakfish". The golf course that day was a steambath. The match was great fun, w/ Larry and me making a big comeback at the end on the last 3-4 holes. I felt badly for Hans... too much tennis had his right elbow hurting him big time, and he was limping home, losing the lead he had established earlier in the round. And on #18, he was ripe for the picking. The hole was over 600 yards, and he struggled to the back fringe in 5 strokes, leaving him a 30 foot downhill putt from off the green. I am 7 feet under the hole, laying 4. If I win the hole, I will win about $20; looks like a mortal lock. Except he hits the hole and pin w/ his putt, the ball spins around to the ther side of the hole, sits on the lip for a split second, and seems to sneer at me as it elects to fall into the hole. Needless to say, my 7 footer does not go in, managing to sit exactly one ball's width on the uphill side of the hole, defying gravity and refusing to take the break that it seemed it had to take. Just like #17 the day before. Oh, well. Frankly, it was alot more fun to see the match end w/ such a dramatic stroke. I ended up w/ 86, Hans an 87, and Willo also walked away w/ some more of my cash. You will never see 23 strokes again, Hogman, hope you enjoyed them! Sat was the day my family arrived. Barbara, Chris, and Angela all seemed to have an extra bounce in their step. And maybe they fussed a bit more than usual... hair was done, fingernails were painted... toenails, too! But the arrival of my family was not to deter the boys from the critical mission of the afternoon.... head to Ocean's on the beach! After putting Sobo in a car to head home for a soccer game that had been cancelled, the boys headed to hedonism on the shore. And Ocean's proved to be the perfect place to watch Sat afternoon become Sat evening at the Hamptons. Beautiful weather, the surf was pounding, sights and sounds abounded. Andy found a seat at the bar and couldn't have been moved w/ a crane. Apparently, some fine young thing decided to do a bar dance right above Andy and Gabes' heads at the bar. Gabes, I'm sure, felt compelled to give her a Hamilton... just force of habit, you know. As Andy sat there in total contentment, sunglasses on, arms folded, he lets me know that he is on his own schedule when he says: "Al, you live on West Tiana Road, right?" Gabes chips in with "I hope Mama Danza didn't buy too much chicken". The boys are happy. Eventually, the crew does make it back to the house for dinner w/ the family. Fox is a bit tipsy, and begins to analyze the best way to act to show that he is NOT drunk. He concludes that NOT drinking at the house would raise suspicion, so concludes that he had better have a beer when he gets there so as not to show that he's already had too much beer. Dinner, and the entire night, is a blast, w/ plenty of food, wine, beer, and more lasughs than could possibly be remembered or recounted. All the old war stories are dusted off and trotted out, to the enjoyment of all. Preppie at the Port Authority... St. Patrick's Day at Madison Sq. Garden for the NIT... "Flanagan and the famous "Dare I?"... "She shouldn't have done it, but she donut" "Good one, Mr. Danza".... Johnny and the the turd that overflowed... New Years Eves of long ago, w/ all night parties and swapped socks... the laughs went on long into the night, w/ Florence once again showing more stamina than her lesser half. Sunday morning... and we were spent. Those who remained did make Mass that morning... thanks, boys, for not dashingmy folks' image of an ND boy. There was more than a touch of sentimentality and sadness as we all made our goodbyes. First, to my folks and family, then amongst each other. When the last car was pulling out, I had an incredible sense of hollowness... I have heard of "post partem blues", and that was kinda how I felt. All the excitement of giving birth to such an event was over, and I felt drained, a bit empty. Fortunately for me, my wife, children, and extended family were there, and we spent a quiet and lovely day, coming back down from the high of the weekend. ********* What can I add? A hearty thanks to all who made it... a party is only as good as those who attend. Regrets for those who could not make it. Dave, Johnny, Mags, Ikey... you were missed but not forgotten. We have a pretty great thing going... let's keep it up and always be sure to find the time for weekends like these. Tomorrow's memories. Al