
Guys who played in the CBA and wound up being head coaches in the NBA: Rick Carlisle, Scott Brooks, Sam Mitchell, Terry Stotts, Sidney Lowe, John Lucas, Butch Carter and Kenny Natt.
In addition, Hubie Brown, Larry Costello, Bob Weiss, Jack Ramsay, and Paul Silas played in the CBA's forerunner, the Eastern League.
Travels with Charley
Sometimes being center-sized can lead to unique off-the-court adventures.
When I taught English at Kingsborough Community College in Brooklyn, one of the departmental secretaries also ran a talent agency.
"One of my clients is a fat lady," she told me. "I have four dwarfs, three midgets, a lady with an enormous bust and an old guy with a great big nose. The agency is called Freaks Unlimited."
Measuring 6-foot-9, I accepted her offer to become the house giant.
My first gig was a rainy day audition at a penthouse apartment on Lexington Avenue in the fancy 40s. I was met at the door by Cyril Starmaker, a middle-aged man in disco slacks and a blue silk shirt worn open to reveal a hairless chest. Mr. Starmaker handed me a script and told me to "wait in the foyer with the others."
According to the script, the name of the movie was "Sasha and the Undead", and the lead was already cast Sasha to be played by the "seductive Miss Mia Culpa."
The luxurious vestibule was appointed with several leather couches, but I was the only aspirant to sit down. Before my very face, at least a dozen little people in natty three-piece suits swarmed briskly about the room, declaiming their lines in shrill voices:
"Oh, Sasha! I know it cannot be, but I must confess how much I love you!"
"Sasha! Look out behind you!"
"Hey, baby, what's a nice girl like you doing in an oasis like this?"
"The fools! How can they resist us? They shall die for their folly!"
"Hey, Gork, how's the weather up there?"
According to the script, Gork had no lines. By the look of the competition, I seemed to be the only qualified applicant.
None of the little people glanced up from their scripts when the door to an inner sanctum suddenly swung open, and another tiny man strode grandly across the room toward the front door. But their collective eyeballs clicked in unified disappointment when Mr. Starmaker poked his head into the room and said, "You're next, Gork."
Inside, a spacious living room was immaculately styled in ritzy plastic furniture. Another young man with an open-chested shirt and a neckful of glittering gold chains was introduced as "George the director."
"OK," said George. "Here's the scene, see? Lie down on the floor and wake up as though from a thousand years' sleep. You've been asleep for a thousand years. Get it?"
As directed, I laid back on the floor with my eyes closed. Then after slowly twitching one eye, I quickly popped open the other one.
"Good," said George. "Good. I love his beard."
Despite the rain, I was then asked to chase George around the terrace. "Not so fast," said George as we splashed through thin puddles. "Lumber around a little more."
"And grunt," said Mr. S.
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"Unnnga!" I grunted. "Unnnga! Bunnnga!"
After that, I had to make believe George was Sasha.
"You haven't seen a woman in a thousand years," he said. "And here I am. Sleeping, helpless before you. Touch me. Caress my face."
"And grunt," said Mr. S.
"UNNNGA! BUNNNGA!"
My next assignment was to grab George and throw him onto the couch. But George was heavier than he looked, and to my surprise, I almost dropped him.
"Throw him again," said Mr. S. "Don't be afraid to hurt him."
For my last trick, I took a running start, then pretended George's umbrella was indeed a mighty sword that sliced me from belly to spine.
"Ugh!" I grunted as I plunged into a death spasm.
"Good," said George. "Let's do it again."
In all, we "played the scene" five times, and I swear that George hit me harder each time. However, when we were finished, George turned to me and said, "You're the best Gork we've seen so far."
"But don't call us," cautioned Mr. Starmaker. "We may or may not call you."
The best Gork they'd seen! I was born to Gork! Gorking my way to fame and fortune!
Months later, the agent-secretary reported that another Gork had been chosen.
"A big blond he-man," she said. "They're positive he's going to be a superstar."
"How tall is he? What's his name?"
"He's a six-foot-nine inch body-builder. His name is Rock Lock."
According to further information, "Sasha and the Undead" was completed, received a PG rating and failed to survive seven days at the Bayonne Bijou.
Perhaps one of these days Gork will live again on HBO.
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