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Thread: Henry Hill and the New York Jets.

  1. #1
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    Henry Hill and the New York Jets.

    Interesting story, funny too. Got this on myspace, from one of the members of the Los Angeles Jets fans.

    Our crew was always busy with numbers, bookies, and moving airport swag, but still not a whole lot of money got saved. We lived out of our pockets or our drawers most of the time because we spent it as fast as we made it - hard to believe since I didn't even have a drug habit yet. But if we made a big score, we'd throw a huge party, then take a ton of people on a rolling party to Vegas or somewhere. The only time I started to make serious money - I mean, real serious - was around 1969 or '70. It all seemed to start around the time I met the New York Jets' star quarterback Joe Namath. And the Joe connection would probably never have happened if I hadn't been constantly on the make - it was a couple of girls who brought us together.


    Like any respectable hood, I had my wife at home and my girlfrends on the side. It's just the way it was with our crowd. The wives knew it, and for the most part they went along with it. They say it goes with the European heritage or some bull****. I don't know about that, but I do know that as long as the wives got to spend us blind a the boutiques and country clubs, they were happy to look the other way - just so long as we didn't rub their noses in it. For the most part my girlfriends were like a cup of coffee, nothing more. But it was different with Linda Rotondi. The first night I met her, I was in love. Christ, was she beautiful - like a California blonde, but she was from New York. She was different. She was refreshing compared to the other chicks I was bedding at the time. I fell hard and fast.


    We met in Michael's Steakhouse, a club on the North Shore. My partner at the time, Ray, had a brother who was the manager of this joint. Michael's had a piano man named Val Anthony, who was sort of like Billy Joel - quite to him and his style. I don't know why we went out to that joint. I think it was because the manager was tight with Paulie. Whatever the reason was, we'd go out the North Shore to this place, and they didn't charge us.
    Everything was taken care of: what else is new?

    One Friday night , I was there with Paulie's kid, Peter; Linda and her roommate, Veralynn, were sitting at the next table over. We brought them over and bought them dinner. Linda had just gotten back to New York from California, where she had worked at Disneyland. She was some kind of executive. Smart girl. Really smart girl. She went to college for a year or so, but never finished. She had no sugar daddy at this time. I met her on a Friday night. Peter was trying to score with Linda, while I was focusing on her friend Veralynn, another hot young thing who drove a white Thunderbird convertible. This was 1969. About ten minutes before we left I danced with Linda. And I looked in her eyes, she looked in my eyes, and we switched. I said, "Peter, you're taking Veralynn and I got Linda." This was Paulie's son, a made guy. He said, "okay, I don't give a ****." So Peter left in his car with Veralynn while me and Linda start heating up.


    The Holiday Inn in Rockville Centre was our joint, so we drove there to be alone and still eat and drink for free. It was a top-line place with a big, beautiful piano bar. And the food was the best, the linen, tables, captains, waiters - the whole nine yards. Holiday Inns were nice joints back then. They had a restaurant upstairs and a restaurant downstairs, Michael's. That was the meeting place for the whole Lucchese family. Tommy Lucchese used to hang out there with Tony Ducks, "Gribbs," and other guys from his crew. Johnny Dio owned the joint, so the Feds were watching it constantly.


    On the way there we're talking, and man, I was in love - in love big-time. She was so refreshing and so different from all the bimbos I knew. So we went downstairs to the piano bar at the Holiday Inn, got a couple of drinks, and that's it. I was a perfect gentleman. Linda didn't have a clue who we were. She was Ms. Pollyanna. But she saw the way people were waiting on me, and blah, blah, blah. So she drove me home in the Thunderbird, and we went back to her apartment, near Hofstra campus.


    Veralynn and Peter, who's a gaboom-a low-class Guinea - were already there. I saw his car parked in one of the spots. I thought, "****, this cocksucker beat me to the pad." So I gave Linda a kiss goodnight. I wasn't going up there. But then she gave me that look Now I was ready to pop. I said, "Let's go back to the Holiday Inn. " And she said yes! So we drove back to the Holiday Inn, which was about ten minutes away from where she lived. Believe me, I wasn't looking to screw her - I mean, I was - but I was going to play her a little. So we went back to the Holiday Inn, and we went back downstairs to the bar with Dom. So I said, "Linda, what do you want to do? I'll get you a room here. You can stay here." I was being a gentleman. I only lived ten minutes from there. I was going to go home anyway. I mean, the first night you meet a girl you usually don't go to bed with her. As far as Karen went, I had it covered - "I was playing cards, shooting crap." I had two kids at the house, so Karen wasn't going out looking for me' she was home with the kids and the maid and ****. And besides, I lived right around the corner from Paulie at the time, so she's assume I'd be over there.


    But Linda made it clear she wanted me to spend the night here with her. I had died and gone to heaven. So I walked to the front desk - we had a guy at the front desk, of course. Soon the hotel owner came over to me to see what's up and just like that we had our pick of the rooms. I got Linda a nice suite, I walked her upstairs, and she went to the bathroom. She came out. I'll never forget what she was wearing. She was wearing this flower-bikini underwear and a bra. It was beautiful. I took my two-thousand-dollar-suit off, and I couldn't believe what I was looking at. Anyways, she had small tits-maybe a size B-but she was beautiful., drop-dead gorgeous, size 4, pretty, and tan. She was half-Wasp, half-Italian, and a classy, classy girl in her early twenties. And now she didn't want to take off her bra because she had little tits, so I started messing with her bra, this little flower bra. Something like Victoria's Secret would do today. And she was sweet and delicious, with a "10" body. Oh, I fell in love. I hit the ****ing lottery.


    Now I spent the night with her, and believe me I didn't sleep too much. We weren't doing drugs at the time, so I was drinking a bottle of scotch and we shared a couple of bottles of Dom and made love all night. This broad was one of the best lovers I had had in a long time. Next to Kelly, this was my real love. The next morning I took a cab home because I only lived a few minutes from there. I jumped in the cab, and she gave me the address to her house and said, "Call me later."

    Of course when I got home I had to deal with Karen, but at this point I didn't care what hell she put me through - it was more than worth it. "Yeah, honey, I was playing cards all night," I told her. For some unknown reason, she bought it. I bull****ted my way through that one.


    That morning Paulie weighed in. Now, Paulie lived in Island Park, where there's a little bridge he used to cross to come and get me in the morning. This was Saturday morning. Now Paulie was outside my home honking the horn, and I said, "Yeah, I'll be out in a minute. I'm coming." He said, "I got to go to Brooklyn." Whatever. I started to tell him, "Me and your son picked up these two chicks last night." Now Paulie was so paranoid. He said, "You sure they weren't Feds?" "Get the **** out of here, " I told him. "I just left the broad at the Holiday Inn. What are you talking about, 'Feds'?" The old prick was nuts. And he screamed, "I got to stop over there. I wanna go meet these girls. They're ****ing Feds. I got to see if Pete is still there. Let's go over there. Where are they?" So on the way to Brooklyn we swept by Linda and Veralynn's house.


    Now we went there and Paulie saw this big building with a doorman and security and ****. Former New York Senator Alphonse D'Amato owned that building. It was the only high-rise out there-about eighteen stories-and it was an exclusive building. Paulie was just going nuts. Number one, he was jealous. Paulie had a brand new Cadillac with a silver top at this time, but he was jealous. He was mostly jealous of me picking up this young stuff. I saw that right away. I didn't give a rat's ass. "I don't know her. You want to **** her, you can **** her, " I told him.


    I rang the bell and Linda came running down in shorts' she was as bronzed as a shiny penny right out of California. So she came running downstairs and who did she see but Paulie with his shiny suit on. She didn't know what was going on yet, not a clue. She didn't know who I was, who Paul Vario was. She walked down to the car, gave me a big kiss, and said, "Come on up." So we were upstairs and there was no Peter. "Where's my son?" Paulie asked her. "We don't know where your son is, " she said. So Linda made coffee, we walked downstairs, and Paulie was paranoid as two ****s. "The Feds!" He ran in the other room where I was making a date for that night. She had prosciouttas - Italian ham- and this whole set up, and Paulie was looking for tape recorders and microphones. I was laughing my balls off.


    When he came back I wasn't saying too much. He said, "The Feds are setting us up." I said, "Whatever, Paulie. Yeah, yeah." Linda was half-Italian half-Wasp; these were two college kids. "Okay, Paulie, whatever. Whatever, they're Feds. I won't see them no more." Yeah, right. I went back there the next night. And I went back Saturday night to take her to dinner because I made a dinner date in-between Paulie's paranoid questions.


    When I met Linda, she was living at this Hofstra house, which is not far from the school where the Jets football team trained. One night, Linda and her girlfriends were making the local bar scene- there's a couple of local bars-and she met Joe Namath because it was spring training and their camp was right down the street. Joe got the hots for Linda's girlfriend, Veralynn, and they got their own thing going. At the time, there was no one hotter, especially in New York, than Namath: "Broadway" Joe Namath. He was the best quarterback in the NFL, loaded, attractive, and single to boot. His club, The Bachelors III, was party central, and guys in my line of work were there every night.


    So I came in one night, not knowing about Veralynn and Joe, and pulled into the garage when another car headed for the same spot. Not just another car, the exact same kind of car I was driving: a '59 Riviera, silver with a black top. It was crazy. Then I saw it was Joe Namath behind th wheel. I had the same exact car as Broadway Joe! It was funny. As I was looking over, I was starstruck. Of course he got the spot and I parked outside. I came back in to get the elevator, and who also got on but Joe. We got off the elevator at the same floor. Now I was freaking. When we got to the same apartment, I was ready to lose it. Same car, same floor, same apartment. Finally I got it - he was dating Veralynn, the roommate.


    So he and Veralynn went to their room, and we heard them going at it. And Linda was showing me the apartment, so I said, "Let's get out of here." First of all, how could I believe it? This big-nosed, six-foot-six mother****er was drilling this chick-I-just-met's roommate.


    Now we started this affair and I couldn't get this woman out of my mind. I was obsessed. She became twice as obsessed with me. It wasn't long before Linda asked me, "What do you do for a living?" I told her, "I'm in the union. I'm a union delegate." "Okay." She believed me. She didn't put the Paulie thing together. She didn't get it. So now I began seeing her every night, and Joe's up there every night because he was in camp. One night he said, "Henry, do me a favor. Lend me your car." "Why?" I asked "Well, because you got the same car." See, all the NFL teams had bed checks and curfews. If your car was missing from the lot, they'd come to your room to find you. The Jets' coach Weeb Eubank was a tough-ass coach, and he had his guys on a short leash. So I gave Joe my keys. He planted my car at the camp and put pillows in his bed at night. What did I care? I'd take Veralynn's Thunderbird.


    About a month into our relationship, I bought Linda a Triumph, one of those little convertibles, a Kelly-green convertible piece of **** that the chicks loved. And I started paying the rent, of course. Later Paulie's kid Lenny stared sleeping with Veralynn. Hey, they were just being normal twenty-one-year-olds. Broadway Joe could care less. He was making it with a hundred broads at the time.


    Soon the place is out of control. And Joe is not the only Jet hanging out there - he started bringing his friends up. When Linda found out I was married, she stared cheating on me. I think she was screwing their wide receiver. I think she even started up with Namath.


    It didn't take Linda long to find out what my racket was. What happened was I started bringing Joe Namath down to Michael's Steakhouse. Now there was Tommy Lucchese, Johnny DIo, Carmine Gribbs, and Tony Salerno, and we were all sitting down and meeting. It didn't take her too long to figure it out. "You mother****ers are gangsters, " she says. And guess what? That even made it better. She was into it.


    Namath knew all about me, too, but he was hooked up with this other crew in Manhattan. They were partners in his joint, the Bachelors III. It was the same family, fortunately. He was hooked up at his club with Tommy Teeballs, who was in the Lucchese family, so it was all right. So Joe and I became good friends. We used to party together. But our friendship got me into hot water with the bosses. One day I got the riot act read to me. I can't remember now who called me down to Michael's, but it was either Johnny Dio or Paulie. It might've even been Fat Tony. "Don't bring Joe here no more," they ordered me. See, the wiseguys didn't give a hoot about Joe Namath; they cared about themselves. I think the Gambinos were partners with him, and the Luccheses didn't want to start anything with them. Eventually Joe had to sell the place because of the wiseguys who were connected with it.


    When the 1969 Super Bowl was approaching, featuring the Jets and the Baltimore Colts, we all started making plans to go to Florida for the big game. It would be Paulie's son, Lenny, my wife, and Bonesey. The Jets were underdogs, but they were a great team that year, and we thought it was a good excuse for a party and to watch our new pal Joe play. You'd never catch me at Shea Stadium in Queens-too damned cold. I mean, I like Joe, but give me a break. One day Joe said to me, "Henry, bet the ranch." He told me "Bet the ****ing ranch, and take the odds." I thought he was nuts-they were seventeen-point underdogs against the powerful Colts.


    Now right before the trip, our crew had just made a big score: we wound up with 150 pounds of methamphetamine-pharmaceutical methamphetamine. It came from a warehouse out in Cedarhust, Inwood. It was the first time I had any business dealings with drugs. We paid $10,000 for it, but it was worth half a million back then. Now I got this barrel for $600 bucks, and I sold it by the pound. The junk was worth $60,000 a pound. I sold it to different wiseguys and stuff. That's when I got my first beef with Sally Fuggo, who's a Bonanno family dude now. I sold his son some pills-like ten pounds.


    So I go all this money and I went to bet it on the Super Bowl, taking six-to-one odds. And again Joe told me-he would grab me in the bedroom, in the elevator-"Henry, bet the ranch." Why was he so sure? I don't know, Confidence. His ego. Who knows? I bet about $30,000 taking six-to-one. I spread it around a lot of bookies.


    Then on a Friday we got on a plane to go. I had never taken speed in my life, but on that trip I took a teaspoon and stirred it up in orange juice, and we were drinking it on the plane. I didn't sleep for four days. I couldn't talk. my voice was gone. I couldn't get a hard-on either. In Florida we stayed at the Diplomat Hotel, and who was staying there but Vice President Spiro Agnew, so the whole place was crawling with secret service. And we were partying our asses off. We got to the Orange Bowl, and we had fifty-yard-line seats that Joe got me. I had hoped to be basking in a luau shirt, unlike the frozen idiots back at Shea. But guess what? It was freezing down there, too, but it didn't matter. We were well-lit and having a ball.


    As it happened, the game came down to the wire in the fourth quarter-it didn't help my hoarseness, that's for sure. I couldn't talk, I was so hoarse from screaming and the drugs. But I remember every play of that game. It was a great game, and a payday for Henry Hill, because the freaking underdog Jets pulled this one out of their asses. I won over a hundred large. And Paulie got ****. In fact, it was Paulie's bookmaker I beat. I took his main guy. They thought it was easy money for me. They were so pissed at me. They didn't believe that the Jets even had a shot. I caught hell for years after it. **** 'em. I got the money.


    Henry Hill
    Last edited by SBIII; 03-15-2009 at 12:53 PM.

  2. #2
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    Nice find III.

    That was a great story, pretty much omitted from the book entirely.

  3. #3
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ruby2 View Post
    Nice find III.

    That was a great story, pretty much omitted from the book entirely.
    Thanks, why Namath talks about Hill in his book?

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    Yep, good find and a good read. Thanks for posting.

  5. #5
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    Quote Originally Posted by SBIII View Post
    Thanks, why Namath talks about Hill in his book?
    I was actually talking about Hill's book, Wiseguy, which is the book Goodfellas is based off of.

  6. #6
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ruby2 View Post
    I was actually talking about Hill's book, Wiseguy, which is the book Goodfellas is based off of.
    oo ok

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    Quote Originally Posted by Ruby2 View Post
    I was actually talking about Hill's book, Wiseguy, which is the book Goodfellas is based off of.
    yo ruby, you like wiseguy books, read murder machine, you will not put it down

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    Good stuff.

    I had Ray Liotta's voice in my head the whole way through.

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    Quote Originally Posted by AnthonySerp View Post
    yo ruby, you like wiseguy books, read murder machine, you will not put it down
    Yeah I do, I will check it out. Thanks for the reccomendation.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Ruby2 View Post
    Yeah I do, I will check it out. Thanks for the reccomendation.
    mob over miami is good too but not on the same level

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    Quote Originally Posted by NYJCAP2 View Post
    Good stuff.

    I had Ray Liotta's voice in my head the whole way through.
    haha I did too..that was the only way it could be read. Great read.

  12. #12

    Thumbs up

    Great story!

  13. #13
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    Quote Originally Posted by NYJCAP2 View Post
    Good stuff.

    I had Ray Liotta's voice in my head the whole way through.
    haha, same here

  14. #14
    Quote Originally Posted by NYJCAP2 View Post
    Good stuff.

    I had Ray Liotta's voice in my head the whole way through.
    Bahahaha, glad I wasn't the only one

  15. #15
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    Goodfellas = Best Movie of All Time

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    Quote Originally Posted by Buzzsaw View Post
    haha, same here
    Quote Originally Posted by AlwaysGreenAlwaysWhite View Post
    Bahahaha, glad I wasn't the only one

    I couldn't help but hear Liotta in my head

  17. #17
    Great read, thanks!!

  18. #18
    Quote Originally Posted by AnthonySerp View Post
    yo ruby, you like wiseguy books, read murder machine, you will not put it down
    murder machine is insane. as far as a pure read goes, wiseguy rules, but the stuff that happens in murder machine is just plain nuts. another fun read is "Joe Dogs" - another story of a very low-level dude, but to me that is what makes it all the more interesting.

  19. #19
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    Quote Originally Posted by NYJCAP2 View Post
    Good stuff.

    I had Ray Liotta's voice in my head the whole way through.
    Quote Originally Posted by JoeyJets1988 View Post
    haha I did too..that was the only way it could be read. Great read.
    Quote Originally Posted by Buzzsaw View Post
    haha, same here
    Quote Originally Posted by AlwaysGreenAlwaysWhite View Post
    Bahahaha, glad I wasn't the only one
    Quote Originally Posted by Stronso View Post
    I couldn't help but hear Liotta in my head
    lol...add me to the list

    I just watched Goodfellas last week also

  20. #20
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    Quote Originally Posted by PaPZ187 View Post
    Goodfellas = Best Movie of All Time
    Henry Hill= RAT

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