UNUSED TICKETS

By Roger Esty

At the end there wasn't much left of the Arizona Cafe. Radovich had died. All the caricatures that were hung behind the bar of the local patrons were covered with dust. As I sat at the end of the bar,I stared at those funny hand painted faces. The only guy still alive was Tony Panza. Christ, he had to be nearing 90. Prided himself for opening the Arizona every morning at 6 sharp. Christmas included.

I was sittin' like I told you at the end of the bar. Near the door. Where the old regulars sat. I guess I fell into that category now. All the regulars had passed on. Just those funny faces behind the bar was all that was left of them in the Arizona.

The Arizona was just me and Tony that afternoon. It was Super Bowl Sunday. No one was going to take in the game at the Arizona. Oh,they had a TV. A small one. It was hung up facing the bar. Only the bartender had a good look at it. If you were sitting there as a customer you couldn't see anything unless you saw the screen in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar.

There was Bob Murhy's mug hanging up there with the rest of the deceased. There was a crack in the center of the caricature. Murphy's fist went through there. I guess that was the Irishman's opinion of art.Tony and me sat there with a bottle of beer in front of us. No glass.
"No one here", I said. "Watchin' the game somewheres else."
"Don't blame them,"came back Tony. "The Arizona was never the place to watch TV."

I wasn't in the mood for bringin' anything up. I was gonna' finish my beer and maybe go down the street to watch the Super Bowl.Then Tony offered.
"Did I ever tell you the time Murphy was in here before the Rams were gonna' play the Browns for the championship game in 51?"
"No,"I said. No way I was going down the street until I got this story.
"Well",said Tony as he leaned on the bar,"Murphy was pretty good friends with the Rams."
Yeh,I heard of some the escapades of Murphy and Hatfirld his manager kickin' their heels with some of the players.

The Rams had a strong club during that period. They were in the All American Conference,but it was a strong league. As strong as the NFL.
They had Van Brocklin and Waterfield flingin' the ball downfield and Crazy Legs and Fears catching them. They were averagin' over 40 a game. It must have been as big as the Aragon fights in that town.

Yeh,Murphy and that gang would come down to the Arizona to get liquored up with Radovich. Shit,Geaorge had played pro ball with the Redskins against those fellas' and had trained Murphy in the amateurs.They'd all huddle together with Irish Bob and go sport fishin',bar hopping,and then wind up in every cat house in Tijuana. They loved every minute of it.

Well the Rams were in the championship game against the Browns in LA. and his buddies had arranged to get him seats on the 50. Well as Tony told it Murphy is sittin' at the bar that morning getting fortified for his trip to Los Angeles. He's got the tickets stickin' out of the brim of his hat. As Tony told it,there was no way they were gonna' let Murphy leave the Arizona.

Everybody in the house was settin' him up. When Murphy began to make a move to the door,there were two more beers and a shot of whiskey in front of him. After 20 beers and 20 shots of Irish Rye. Include choruses of "Danny Boy","When Irish Eyes Are Smilin'",and Roamin' In The Gloamin'",his buddies at the bar had accomplished their mission.

As Tony told it ,by kick off Murphy was face down on the bar snorin' .The tickets still in the brim of his hat.

I guess Murphy was gonna' do that anyway. You know,get drunk with his buddies at the bar. Besides football was never his sport.