This Game's in the Refrigerator

As I'm sure I've mentioned on too many occasions, Amir was a committed L.A. Lakers fan beginning from the age of about 8 or 9. He loved Magic and Kareem and Worthy and he reveled in the mid-80s Lakers/Celtics rivalry. Of course, every Lakers fan loved the team's inimitable play-by-play announcer, Chick Hearn (who purportedly coined such terms as "slam dunk" and "air ball").

In 1986, someone produced this fantastic mix of memorable "Chickisms" and interjections over an unfussy, out-of-the-box drum-machine beat. The "Rap-Around" got some airplay on local radio and, of course, Amir and his young buddies went fucking apeshit for it (including Mike Kelly, who reminded me of the song's existence just a few months ago):

Chick Hearn, "Rap-Around" (YouTube)

Amir adored Chick's colorful language and phrasing, just like my father loved Yogi Berra's. I loved hearing them laugh from the TV room while watching a game; joining them occasionally, I'd snicker right along with them when Chick threw out gems such as "The mustard's off the hot dog." Owing to my minimal interest in the sport itself, I found the witty wordplay of announcers like Chick to be the most enjoyable part of listening to a game.

As a young kid, Amir filled notebooks meticulously with pages of sports statistics and scores. He collected baseball cards and preserved them carefully and lovingly in plastic sleeves filling scores of three-ring binders, which he cherished. As a teenager and into his 20s, he wrote fairly extensively and wittily about sports, particularly basketball and baseball. I often encouraged him to parlay his extraordinary perceptiveness, cleverness and natural wordsmithing talent into becoming a sports writer. He could have been so fucking great, infusing sharp humor and wit into observations derived from his bottomless knowledge of and love for sports (a la the fabulous Frank Deford, whose greatness in my eyes comes from the fact that I enjoyed his sports commentary tremendously in spite of my possessing almost no knowledge of or interest in the subject matter).

An aside: in writing this post, I came across this Chick Hearn quote, uttered at the point in a game when it became clear the Lakers were en route to victory: "This game's in the refrigerator: The door's closed, the lights are out, the eggs are cooling, the butter's getting hard and the Jell-o's jiggling." I don't remember having heard the phrase before, but I'm sure Amir had, as its influence was clear in his writing style. Plus, I'd bet he got a huge fucking kick out of it and that makes me smile even now.

He Liked the Sweet

The magical Stefan Leikin does not use Facebook and was not aware of this blog until a few days ago. He has since shared with me and Yael this remembrance of some "special nights" with Amir (circa 1994, when Amir was 18):

A bottle of Captain Morgan.
Spinning records (starting with Nirvana)
Playing chess in his room for hours

The debates we had were so much fun. He swore by Nirvana. I leaned toward Pearl Jam. And the debates continued. But we always had the Beastie Boys as our common ground. That was until the discussion switched to which Beatles album was the best. He really loved "Revolver."  

No one knew about those nights. We were the only two left in Chatsworth. We spent a lot of time together. Those were good nights. We spent hours listening to records. Chess was the excuse to listen to more. Neither one of us was very good at the game but it didn't matter. Hanging out was the important factor.

And it was always Captain Morgan. It was gross, but he liked the sweet.

Fuck. How is it possible I never knew my brother liked rum? He was never much of a drinker, though he enjoyed the occasional beer or glass of wine and sometimes indulged in Maker's Mark (with or without Coke). And I knew he enjoyed chess and played occasionally with my father but I never knew he played it with his friends.

You see? This is exactly the purpose behind my reaching out to friends to contribute stories and memories to this blog. Nearly three years since my beautiful, brilliant brother left us, I continue to learn about him, to discover who he was and the spaces he filled in this world and this life. And I hope that, through memories like these, I will continue to learn about Amir (and learn from him) until my last day.

Thank you so much, Stefan. May you (and all of us) always remember those special times.