Episode 8: The Upset of a Lifetime

Connie Hawkins’s six-million-dollar lawsuit comes down to a single, high-stakes deposition. New York’s white-shoe lawyers — including a young David Stern — represent the NBA, putting the screws to Connie to see if he’ll break under pressure like he did eight years earlier. Then, we switch gears to follow Jack Molinas as he faces off against Manhattan District Attorney Frank Hogan. Jack desperately tries to fix his trial just like he fixed so many basketball games, but will his luck finally run out?

CREDITS

Created by: Bo Belanger

Written and Produced by: Bo Belanger

Theme Song: "Blame" by Gabriels

Music: Bo Belanger and Udio

VO: Shawn Hawkins, Bo Belanger and ElevenLabs

Sound Design and Mix: Dave Wagg and Collin Thomas

Art: Lincoln Lopes

Special Thanks: Shawn Hawkins, Dave Wolf, Charley Rosen and Kristen Farnam Belanger

Transcript

SPEAKER_18 0:21

Welcome back to Connie and Jack, a raved game. This is episode 8, the upset of a lifetime. In the seventh episode, the Littmans, Howard Specter, and Dave Wolf put the NBA on its heels with Connie's lawsuit. Now Connie had to come through with his deposition to realize his dream of playing in the NBA. But Connie injured his knee that same season and needed to have an operation. The Hawk was wounded. So Connie wondered if the lawsuit would even matter.

SPEAKER_08 1:08

As Connie prepared for his deposition in the spring of 1969, it had been eight years since the New York City interrogation and his expulsion from Iowa University. There have been lots of low days, months, years, valleys seemingly stretched to the horizon. Connie was ostracized by society, an innocent man everyone thought was guilty. For social creatures like humans, ostracism is one of the hardest conditions to endure. Research suggests that it activates the same part of the brain involved in experiencing both physical and psychological pain. Even for a happy-go-lucky guy like Connie, his circumstances made happiness hard. Sebastian Younger wrote about this topic in his book Tribe, saying, Human beings need three basic things in order to be content.

SPEAKER_04 1:57

They need to feel competent at what they do.

SPEAKER_08 2:00

Never an issue with Connie on the basketball court.

SPEAKER_04 2:03

They need to feel authentic in their lives.

SPEAKER_08 2:05

Problematic for Connie, clowning with the Trotters and playing in the B-leagues.

SPEAKER_04 2:10

And they need to feel connected to others.

SPEAKER_08 2:13

Beyond his family and close friends, problematic for Connie for the eight years between his expulsion and Dave Wolf's Life magazine article when his innocence was finally believed by the general public. If successful, his NBA lawsuit would overturn two of these areas for him: autonomy and community. Connie would finally feel as though he was living the life he was supposed to live. The Lippmans only had two weeks to prepare Connie for his deposition, and Connie was scared. Everything was riding on his performance, where he was used to relying on his body to take a step quicker than someone or jump higher. This final test was between his ears. Real estate Connie always held deep insecurities about dating back to grade school. Adding to the challenge, Connie was going against Park Avenue's finest lawyers. Again, Fowl has the best recounting of the sequence.

SPEAKER_12 3:04

Howard Spector told Dave Wolfe. Against a skilled attorney, having the truth on your side often isn't enough. Especially if, like Connie, your memory is genuinely hazy about many of the specific events. You must be prepared. We went over everything that had happened to him from the date of his birth. We explained the history of the case, the nature of the MBA's defense, and what they would try to prove, primarily getting admissions from Connie. We reviewed every fact, then we interrogated him over and over.

SPEAKER_08 3:38

The Lippmann's inspector repeatedly told Connie that it's okay to say I don't recall. In fact, it's a strength in a situation like this where saying something false can cost you the case. Connie initially took it as a mark against his intelligence that he couldn't remember something, his mental insecurities rearing their head. But slowly he warmed to their game plan. They worked Connie hard, as Wolf wrote, Everyone was tense.

SPEAKER_16 4:06

Tempers flared daily.

SPEAKER_09 4:08

Connie recalls, after the first few times, they really questioned me rough. David got so mad, I wanted to punch him in the mouth all the time.

SPEAKER_08 4:17

But the hard work began paying off. Connie's responses became tighter. His strong work ethic was helpful. He arrived with new questions for them every morning and wanted to work into the evenings when they were ready to go home. On the morning of May 1st, it was game time, Connie told the Philadelphia Inquirer, I didn't know if I would win.

SPEAKER_09 4:38

I was prepared for defeat. In the back of my mind, I remembered the movies and stories about people who were imprisoned and were really innocent and finally got out after a long time.

SPEAKER_08 4:52

George Galance led the questioning for the NBA and started with some softballs. In the afternoon, the ball shrank and the velocity increased as he moved into questions about the scandal. But Connie realized he could handle everything that Galance threw at him. He slowly gained confidence in himself and realized his hard work with the Littmann's inspector was paying off. Galance tried to trick him at times, but Connie was rock solid, as he told Wolf, It's like when you make your first three or four shots, you start believing in yourself. He had a minor slip-up at the end of the first day, but it was not fatal, and he was great on day two.

SPEAKER_16 5:33

At the end of the deposition, Wolf wrote, As Roz leaned in front of Connie to speak to the court reporter, Hawk pressed forward and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

SPEAKER_01 5:43

That's never happened in a deposition before.

SPEAKER_16 5:46

She laughs.

SPEAKER_01 5:47

I was horrified that one of their attorneys had seen it, but they hadn't. Connie was just feeling very proud of himself, and he had every reason to feel proud.

SPEAKER_16 5:57

The NBA had come away even weaker than before, says Hawk.

SPEAKER_09 6:01

I was breaking out with the Shines. I felt good inside. I knew I'd done good. And this was something I'd done with my head, with my brain, by thinking.

SPEAKER_08 6:12

On Friday, June 6th, Roz got a call from David Stern, future commissioner, who at the time was a young lawyer at Prosgower Rose, Getz and Mendelssohn. He was working the case with Galance. Stern told Roz that she'd be getting a call on Monday from Galance to discuss a possible settlement.

SPEAKER_16 6:29

As Wolf wrote, Roz's hand shook so furiously, she could hardly keep the receiver to her ear. Rosalind recalls.

SPEAKER_08 6:49

They called Connie and told him, but warned not to get his hopes up. It wasn't a done deal. There was a league meeting, and a number of NBA owners didn't want it to happen. One even leaked it to the press, which the Littman feared would ruin the whole deal. Galance explained to the owners that they stood no chance in court. They had to settle. And they would. Connie arrived at the Littman's law office and they explained the NBA's terms.

SPEAKER_16 7:15

Wolf wrote, Hawk listened in silence, while David told him that, if the settlement came through, he would not only be accepted by the NBA, but would eventually receive a million dollars.

SPEAKER_09 7:27

Connie says, It was like the words didn't make sense. I didn't feel nothing at first. I couldn't relate to the money at all.

SPEAKER_16 7:35

When David finished speaking, Connie was still mum. Raz said impatiently, Well, what do you think?

SPEAKER_09 7:42

I don't think I want to play in the NBA.

SPEAKER_16 7:45

Howard stood up and staggered from the room. He mumbled, The f guy is crazy. Absolutely crazy. The litman stared open-mouthed. Then Connie grinned. He said, I'm just kidding.

SPEAKER_09 7:58

I accept.

SPEAKER_16 7:59

Still, he showed no real emotion. They took him to lunch at the Carleton house, and he sat quietly while they laughed and kitted and called him their favorite millionaire. Then, suddenly, he sighed, lowered his head, and sobbed into his tablecloth.

SPEAKER_10 8:15

The NBA, the NBA, after all these years, would ever stop after this roll!

SPEAKER_08 8:27

The next question was: where would he play? On March 19, 1969, the Milwaukee Bucks and Phoenix Suns listened in on the phone as Commissioner Walter Kennedy flipped a coin for the rights to the first pick. The Suns called heads. It was tails. Trivia question: who did the Bucks take with that first pick? Probably too easy if you're over 45. The Bucks got Lou El Cinder. But Phoenix won a second coin flip against Seattle for the rights of Connie. Connie Hawkins would be a Phoenix son. Their owner, a real estate developer named Dick Block, called Connie and said, Connie, I know you've been wrong.

SPEAKER_03 9:06

I just want you to realize that I wasn't a member of the league when those things were done to you. I'm sorry for what happened. But I'm very glad you're gonna be in the NBA now and delighted you'll be with Phoenix.

SPEAKER_09 9:17

It was surreal for Connie, as he told the press. It's been like seven years in a fantasy land. I still think it's a dream. It's kind of hard to believe I'm here now. I was hoping desperately a settlement could be reached. I was so excited, I couldn't sleep last night.

SPEAKER_08 9:36

It had actually been eight years, not seven, for Connie. In eight-year exile. No one thought the Lipmans and Connie stood a chance when the lawsuit began. The oversized underdog won the upset of a lifetime. Connie told the Pittsburgh Postgazette.

SPEAKER_09 9:51

The money was important, sure, but the vindication that I didn't do anything seriously wrong pleased me just as much.

SPEAKER_08 9:59

And just like any great leader, in his post-game interview, he gave credit to his teammates, telling the Philadelphia Inquirer There were times I thought it was hopeless, but I never gave up hoping because I knew I was innocent, and because of the way David and Roslyn Littman fought for me for so many years.

SPEAKER_09 10:20

It was their faith and some prayers which kept me going.

SPEAKER_08 10:24

Roz and David Lippmann were mensches till the end. In their contract with Connie, they were supposed to get a large piece of the settlement. They took much less. They remained close to Connie for the rest of their lives. Connie attended their family funerals and bar mitzvahs. He was family. Commissioner Walter Kennedy continued to operate at the other end of the mensch spectrum. When he announced to the press that Connie would be joining the league, he was not forthcoming with the facts. A PR man through and through, spinning his own story. He said that Connie would be joining the Suns and that the$6 million lawsuit was dropped. But there was no mention of the$1 million settlement. When asked about a settlement, Kennedy replied, no comment, as Vern Boatner wrote in the Arizona Republic.

SPEAKER_02 11:11

The fine line apparently was drawn because to admit a financial settlement was equivalent to admitting guilt and wrongfully barring Hawkins.

SPEAKER_08 11:20

God forbid. Three years later, Cherry and Max Jacobs, the owner of one of his franchises, the Cincinnati Royals, were brought in front of a Senate antitrust subcommittee because of their history of business associations with organized crime figures.

SPEAKER_16 11:35

As NEA sports editor Ira Berkell wrote, When Representative Sam Steiger from the Senate subcommittee informed Kennedy of the Jacobs situation, Kennedy told him that he called Max Jacobs.

SPEAKER_15 11:46

Kennedy said of the conversation.

SPEAKER_16 11:53

Senator Sam Irvin, subcommittee chairman, asked if Kennedy would treat a player in the same manner. That is, ask the man if he is guilty or not, have the man reply, not guilty, and end the investigation.

SPEAKER_15 12:05

Kennedy replied, I think I would treat a player in the same manner.

SPEAKER_08 12:10

Connie's eight-year exile proved that Kennedy was lying. By this point, the public saw through Kennedy.

SPEAKER_14 12:18

Sandy Padway wrote for the Philadelphia Inquirer, Someone owes Connie Hawkins eight years of his life. He can't get those years back. He may have a million-dollar deal now. But who is going to erase the memories of isolation, the whispers, the aspersions, the doubt? Where was the NBA all those years? Where were its investigators? Where was its justice? It took a magazine article and a lawsuit to finally move the league. And when danger appeared, the league made the quickest 180-degree turn in the history of organized sport.

SPEAKER_08 12:54

It would be years before Connie saw much of the money from the lawsuit. Part of it was a$400,000 five-year no-cut contract with the Suns, but the other$600,000, the money he was paid for damages, was paid out in future annuities. He'd be paid$25,000 a year for 24 years after he reached the age of 45. There was no question he was rich, but he wasn't the million-dollar man everyone thought he was, and he noticed a change in how people treated him after the lawsuit when he returned to New York in the summer of 69.

SPEAKER_09 13:29

As he told Dave Wolfe, There was a lot of jealousy. I guess when poor people see another poor person get money, they can't be happy for them. Because they're still poor. My so-called friends started telling us we changed, picking on heirs. Everybody started asking to borrow money. A hundred here, two hundred there. My brothers in Brooklyn wanted money. Earl wants me to set him up in a business. Nobody would believe that I didn't have the whole million dollars right in my pocket.

SPEAKER_16 14:00

Strangers approached him on the street for money. He'd get letters from people asking to put their kids through college. One woman asked Hawk for$500 to get an abortion.

SPEAKER_09 14:10

At Rutgers, I'd be watching a game, and guys who hadn't said hello to me in eight years would start crowding around, shaking my hand, and wanting me to invest in something. When I told them they had to speak to my lawyer, they'd start telling people I'd gotten stingy. There was a time when I'd have liked all the attention, but I was seeing through to the phoniness, and it was depressing.

SPEAKER_08 14:35

It all proved that a young kid from his neighborhood decades later had it right. Mo money, mo problems. Though he wasn't complaining, he now had financial security, which had been elusive all decade despite his talents.

SPEAKER_13 14:48

As Jim Goodrich wrote in Ebony, While Hawkins rarely talks about his current financial status, he admits that there's one thing to having money that satisfied him most. He explains.

SPEAKER_18 15:43

Right now, we're gonna pivot back to Jack.

SPEAKER_00 15:46

With a million angles, he's hard to track. But you can't help but want him back. Oh, he's the man with John. That's the first one.

SPEAKER_08 15:57

What confounded district attorney Frank Hogan most was that the ringleader of the gambling operation was a fellow Columbia graduate. And not any graduate, but someone who brought the school great glory a decade ago as a standout basketball player. As the New York Times wrote about Hogan.

SPEAKER_02 16:14

And in his favorite activity of all, Mr. Hogan, who was childless, became the ultimate loyal alumnus of Columbia. He was president of the Columbia College Alumni Association, then of the Columbia University Alumni Federation, then a university trustee.

SPEAKER_08 16:32

His job now was to put a fellow Columbia Lion behind bars. Jack got to work trying to fix his trial just as he'd fixed so many basketball games. He knew Haken wouldn't talk, but worried about Wagman. In February of 1961, he approached him and said, There's going to be an investigation.

SPEAKER_05 16:52

They're going to call in the players. They know all our names and have been following us for a couple of months.

SPEAKER_08 16:58

Jack suggested that Wagman leave the city or country for a couple of weeks, but Wagman didn't like the idea of going on the lamb. Jack said fine, but told Wagman to contact his players with the following advice.

SPEAKER_05 17:17

He added one more piece of advice. Deny the fact that you ever knew them, or if they want to admit they know you, just to say they never were offered a bribe. Period.

SPEAKER_08 17:27

Wagman was arrested the next month on March 16th. He pled guilty eight months later on November 30th. During that period, he saw Jack about 25 times. In one of their last visits, he told Jack that he was going to cooperate with the DA's office and said he would quote, hope for the best. Jack told Wagman that he should go to trial instead. They had no case against Wagman, he said, and none of the players had confessed or would testify. This, of course, was false, and both men knew it, but Jack was desperate.

SPEAKER_05 17:58

He asked Wagman if he could possibly leave him out of what he told the DA's office, saying, You can tell them about Haken, tell them about Goldberg, tell them about Lycos, tell them about all those other guys, but leave me out of it.

SPEAKER_07 18:11

Wagman replied, I'm not going to leave anything out.

SPEAKER_05 18:15

Melinas, ever more desperate, said, You could tell them about me, but leave out just these things. Try not to say anything about Lenny Kaplan, Billy Reed, or Kaufman from the College of Pacific.

SPEAKER_08 18:28

Wagman was defiant and told Jack he wasn't leaving anything out, and he didn't. Wagman cooperated for a reduced sentence of five to ten years. Jack pivoted, as Charlie Rosen wrote in The Wizard of Odds.

SPEAKER_16 18:43

Jack knew that by the tenets of New York state law, a conviction could not be based solely on the testimony of a co-conspirator.

SPEAKER_08 18:50

Knowing Wagman couldn't do him in alone, he turned his attention to the players. If he could keep them from talking, he still had a chance. One key player for Jack was Dennis Reed of Bowling Green. In March, shortly before the scandal made headlines, Jack called Reed and said there was a jackpot brewing, but told Reed not to be concerned, because he had a politician who would keep their names out of the papers. Another lie. Jack later traveled to Ohio to coach Reed on his testimony before he was brought in. He told Reed that players were being given immunity for their testimony and advised him not to worry and said, It's not difficult to lie before a grand jury.

SPEAKER_06 19:33

Reed recalled, He told me to use the term I don't remember and to be vague and evasive.

SPEAKER_08 19:39

Jack referenced Tony Jackson as a player who managed to talk his way out of it and quote, made a monkey out of the grand jury. Jack finished by saying, at all costs, that Reed should never admit to receiving any money from him as a payment, and to call him Mr. Stevens when he called his office moving forward. During the summer of 1961, as the case was heating up, Jack visited Reed again. More desperate, he made Reed sign a letter saying that Jack would be his legal counsel. Jack then tried to scare Reed by telling him that immunity wasn't much protection and he could get deported and lose citizenship. All lies. In January 1962, Reed came to talk to Jack again. This time, unbeknownst to Jack, he was cooperating and wearing a wire. This was some of their conversation.

SPEAKER_06 20:32

Reed began. Yeah.

SPEAKER_08 20:38

Reed then expressed nervousness about the grand jury testimony and that he would be all by himself.

SPEAKER_05 20:44

I can go with you. You'll speak to counsel. You won't get caught. Believe me, you won't get caught. Jack Ren began to rehearse Reed for the grand jury. The only way they can get you for perjury is if you make a statement as to a fact. Now what is a fact? A fact is something that they can controvert. If they tell you that I, did I ever give you$600? The answer is no. There's nobody that can come up and say I was there when he gave him$600. How about when I called you as Mr. Stevens? As far as Mr. Stevens is concerned, you didn't call me Mr. Stevens. You don't remember using that name.

SPEAKER_08 21:21

Reed then asks what happens if he gets caught in a live.

SPEAKER_05 21:25

You made your mistake. It's just a mistake, not perjury. Just because I make a misstatement, it isn't perjury. I'm telling you, you can't get in trouble.

SPEAKER_08 21:35

Of course, lying to a jury is the definition of perjury. Jack continued lying to players to try to stay out of prison. But like so many other players, Jack had shorted Reed money. Players that Jack had stiffed on payments now felt no allegiance to him during the investigation. Lenny Kaplan was another key witness. In the fifth episode, we told Kaplan's story, a familiar one. Jack never paid him his money and eventually made up an excuse that it was tied up in a Florida land deal. Two weeks before the start of Jack's trial, he and a private detective visited Kaplan in Baltimore. Kaplan told them he had testified before the grand jury.

SPEAKER_05 22:16

Jack asked him, Is it possible you took the money from me to play ballot in the Eastern League? Kaplan replied, You know you didn't give it to me for that purpose, and I know it.

SPEAKER_08 22:27

Jack's duplicity was now sealing his fate. Jack tried other means to keep the players off the witness stand. He threatened players. He advised Gary Kaufman, a player from the College of the Pacific, not to talk to the authorities because Jack's backers were the old Capone mob from Chicago. Unfortunately for Jack, Kaufman was wearing a wire when he said this. Jack was finding fixing a trial more difficult than fixing a game. The case against Jack grew strong with all the players cooperating for immunity. Hakken predictably kept his mouth shut, but even he was growing tired of Jack by then. Haken told a reporter that Jack's bravado was an act.

SPEAKER_14 23:09

He said, I'm fighting for nothing. Jack, that jerk, he's fighting for his life.

SPEAKER_08 23:15

Hakken said he knew Jack was scared during this time. In fact, Hakken said, Jack was always scared. If he was, he didn't act like it. Jack was offered a generous deal by the state before the trial. If he admitted to fixing games, he'd have his license to practice law revoked and only serve six months in prison. Jack said no, he went to trial. And on February 11th, 1963, he lost. He was convicted of conspiracy, three cons bribery, and an attempt to suborn perjury. Judge Joseph Sarite, who called Molinas a completely amoral person, sentenced him to 10 to 15 years in a state penitentiary at Attica. Molinas recalled the moment of the sentencing.

SPEAKER_05 24:13

But then I realized he wasn't kidding. It didn't hit me all at once. But when you finally walk into that prison cell and look at those four blank walls, you get the full impact. It's a terrible moment. You ask yourself, was it worth it? And the obvious answer is no. Jack thought he'd only get a couple of years because, as he tells it in The Wizard of Odds, I was an educated man, a lawyer, and my so-called crimes hadn't hurt anybody except some betters and some bookies.

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He'd forgotten about the innocent kids' lives that he ruined, like Connie, Roger Brown, Doug Moe, Charlie Williams, Tony Jackson, and others. Jack serving the full sentence was unlikely, as George Vesey wrote in Newsday.

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In cases where lawyers have been convicted, judges have often given light sentences, noting that disbarment was a serious penalty for a man who had put seven years and considerable money into studying for the bar.

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Jack appealed the case.

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Hogan responded to Jack's appeal by writing, The defendant's attitude towards the law, as manifested in particular by his efforts to suppress the facts of his culpability, is not the material for the rapid rehabilitation claim. Hogan wrote what he thought of Jack's chances at rehabilitation, saying, Melinas's habitual involvement with gambling does not provide much hope for speedy reform. Prior to the four-year conspiracy, the defendant had been expelled from the National Basketball Association for betting. Apparently, he did not learn from the aborted end of a promising professional basketball career, and there is no reason to suspect that Molinas has profited from the instant convictions, except perhaps to become more circumspect in the future. Indeed, even after he learned of the district attorney's investigation, Molinas still continued to arrange the fixing of basketball games.

SPEAKER_08 26:05

In Jack's appeal, he made the case that the court should go easier on him because of his education and accomplishments. Hogan disagreed. His response was brilliant.

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The culpability of this defendant is not mitigated by the facts of his education or past achievements, there being no different standard of retribution for the fortunate and unfortunate. If anything, those with the greater opportunities and equipment should face the sterner social demands.

SPEAKER_08 26:31

One of the great ironies of this story is that the NYPD's and DA's investigation into Jack was to preserve the sanctity of the NCAA. They trampled on kids' rights and ruined their lives to put Jack behind bars. Yet the NCAA had no sanctity to preserve. It protected a corrupt operation then, and it still does to this day. They've been stuffing their pockets for decades while giving as little as possible to the kids on whose backs they make their millions. The NCAA more resembles the early American Republic, building their wealth off slave labor than it does an organization with any integrity or class. Jack served only 10 weeks in prison before the courts allowed him out on a$35,000 bail while his appeal worked its way through the courts, but he lost his first appeal and was sent back to Attica. Ultimately, the New York State Supreme Court went easy on Jack. They reduced his sentence to 7 to 12 and a half years. Though he wouldn't stay in Attica for long, he got transferred to the tombs, the jail in Lower Manhattan with a better quality of life. Why? His gambling had taken a new form, and the powers that be in the prison were benefiting. Jack explained in the Wizard of Odds.

SPEAKER_05 27:50

I developed a new hobby, the stock market. We were allowed to read the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal every day. I was also receiving literature from the various brokerage houses, and I studied everything I could get my hands on. The rabbi at the tombs also liked to play the market, and during morning services, he let me use his telephone to call my broker, Sandy Solomon. It didn't take me long to start making a lot of money. Soon enough, I was advising some of the inmates as to what stocks they should be buying. The natural progression was that I started making money for the guards too, and my stay at the tombs was prolonged under very unusual circumstances. A very high official in the criminal justice system heard about my expertise on the market, and he decided to put me to work. Twice a week, a limousine would pick me up at the tombs, one of those hideaway jobs with a bar and stereo and TV and thick curtains in the back. And I would be chauffeured to Wall Street. I was playing with about two and a half million dollars, and I was doing very well for him. The limo would pick me up at 10 in the morning, and I had to be back by midnight. The only stipulation was that because I was a prisoner, two officers would accompany me wherever I went. They used to call me little Cinderella because I had to be home by midnight. After I did my work on Wall Street for the judge, I had the rest of the day free. So we hung out in bars and restaurants. This went on for about three years. The only break in the action came when I was shipped back to Attica for July and August. Because living in the tombs was like living inside an oven. My angels were really taking care of me.

SPEAKER_08 29:23

Jack's quality of life in jail was better than most middle-class Americans. And though he'd proven himself incapable of living a life within the law, Jack's sentence would be twice reduced before he was finally paroled in 1968 after serving just five years. Jack was getting one more shot.

SPEAKER_04 29:42

It's a new day somehow.

SPEAKER_08 29:48

His parole jurisdiction was transferred to LA for a quote, fresh start. And so that he could better market his life story and make it into a film. Connie went west to Phoenix for his first shot in the NBA in 1969. Jack went west to LA for his third shot in life a year later in 1970.

SPEAKER_04 30:07

Bruce Kaiden wrote in the Philadelphia Inquirer, Jack was living exceedingly well in a sumptuous house built into the side of a mountain that overlooks Los Angeles. He goes by Jacob Lewis Molinas, back to his birth name. Jack Molinas carried too much stink.

SPEAKER_08 30:24

Jack and his old friend Paul Brandt took the film idea to producer Joe Pasternock, who was interested, but the negotiations broke down. Jack and Pasternock didn't trust each other. Brandt explained the other issue.

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It was prior to the making of The Godfather, and it required what at the time was a completely new approach to the mob. Pasternock felt that this was a big stumbling block. He didn't know how he would get people to work on it.

SPEAKER_08 30:50

Melinas, ever the opportunist, pivoted to a more sure bet in the movie business, porn. The mob guys who always respected how Jack kept his mouth shut during his arrest and trial put up the money to back him.

SPEAKER_16 31:03

Charlie Rosen wrote in The Wizard of Odds, Melinas told all his friends back in New York that he soon would be the Cecil B. DeMille of Porn. It was difficult for producers of porno films to lose money in Los Angeles. Clayton Anderson, the LA County Assistant District Attorney, said, There's a reason why pornography is where the mob has done best out here.

SPEAKER_02 31:24

In the late 60s and early 70s, porno is easily more profitable than drugs or gambling or prostitution. And a lot of the porno producers like working with the mob because they were the only outfit who paid their bills on time.

SPEAKER_08 31:38

Only true connoisseurs of the genre would recognize any of Jack's titles. His first film was an X-rated take on Billy Wilder's Some Like It Hot. It was called Caught in the Can. When he wasn't producing porn, Jack still found pickup games where he played against big names like Jerry West, Elgin Baylor, and Wilt. But friends noticed Jack changing in LA. He was still the happy-go-lucky guy with his high-pitched giggle, charming and confident, witty in making jokes and laughing at things most people wouldn't dare. That youthful mischievous side he never outgrew. But as his old friend Bob Santini told Charlie Rosen, Jack seemed much more nervous and preoccupied.

SPEAKER_17 32:19

He still projected an air of confidence, just like he did when he was younger. It just didn't ring as true as before. Something wasn't quite right, and it was like he was always looking over his shoulder. Jack never talked about his business dealings, but the impression I got was that, whatever he was into, he was involved with dangerous people.

SPEAKER_08 32:39

Friends again warned him of the troubles ahead if he kept associating with these dangerous people.

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Jack would reply, Don't worry about me. I'm not doing anything that's gonna get me killed, and I never will.

SPEAKER_08 32:52

His gambling never stopped. More and more he didn't pay back what he owed on bets. He'd head to Vegas, lose thousands of dollars on credit, and take off without repaying them. The Vegas operators didn't go near him because of his mob ties, but those were fraying. Jack wasn't making them the kind of money he used to, and there was only so much they owed him for staying quiet. He became expendable. In 1973, he was arrested in LA on charges of shipping porno films across state lines from LA to Memphis. Then, a year later, Jack's business partner, Bernard Gussoff, was found beaten to death in his LA apartment. The murder was never solved, but Jack collected$500,000 on a life insurance policy that each held on the other as partners. The partnership had broken up, but Jack kept making payments on the policy, and the murder happened only three weeks before it expired. Everyone thought Jack was involved with Gusov's murder. But he wasn't arrested, even though he collected a half a million dollars on the insurance policy.

SPEAKER_07 33:55

Gusov's son, Stuart, said, I think Melinas hired somebody to kill my father so that he could collect the insurance money.

SPEAKER_08 34:03

Stuart was correct, but it wasn't proven until years later, as Frank Lombardi wrote for the Daily News.

SPEAKER_11 34:11

The cops weren't able to link Melinas to Gusov's murder until nearly four years later, when mob informer Jimmy the Weasel Fratiano claimed that Melinas had paid a Los Angeles gangster named Mike Reasy$50,000 to kill Gusag for the insurance money. No murder charge was ever brought against Reasy, although authorities believe Fratiano's story.

SPEAKER_08 34:32

It wouldn't matter. Jack dug his own grave before that discovery. It tied back to his gambling debts. It was harder to claim he didn't have people's money when he just collected half a million dollars on a life insurance policy. In the Wizard of Odds, Charlie Rosen wrote about what happened next.

SPEAKER_16 34:49

In mid-July, at the Arrowhead Hot Springs Hotel in eastern Orange County, a meeting was convened of most of the high echelon mafia bosses in the country. The topics ranged from territorial disputes in New York City and scouting reports on up-and-coming Hitman, to which newly elected politicians were worth buying. Also on the agenda was the status of Jack Molinas, and a number of West Coast administrators were granted an audience to relate their grievances against him.

SPEAKER_08 35:16

It was a long list. The Periano family had an unpaid loan of almost a quarter million dollars. Instead of paying them with the insurance money, Jack bought a Rolls-Royce. Jack also owed more than$100,000 to mob back Vegas casinos. He owed at least$50,000 to LA Bookies. And Johnny Bump Bumpinciero, who ran the mob's porno film interests, said that Jack had overstepped on his territory. Jack still had a couple things in his favor. He never gave up the names of other NBA pros doing business way back when, and he apparently sheltered a couple of hitmen for the Gambiano family. But the current word from New York was that, quote, there was no obligation outstanding. Out in LA, he'd been under the protective custody of a well-respected soldier named Mickey Zafarano, but that was now over. So when the vote came up, there was a unanimous decision for the termination of Jack's life. A couple weeks later, on Sunday, August 3rd, 1975, Jack had dinner with his mother Betty, who was in town visiting. Later that night, in the early morning hours, he jumped into his Rolls Royce to pick up an old female acquaintance who flew in from New York to visit, a 35-year-old divorcee named Shirley Marcus. Pulling out of his Hollywood Hills home, Jack spotted a hit team outside of his house and alluded them in a high-speed chase down the hills. He didn't call the cops. Instead, he picked up Shirley at LAX around 1 a.m. and returned home. He parked his car in the garage. He and Shirley watched the back patio, and Jack pointed to the sparkling lights of LA below. He asked her a question. Just then, a silence 22 caliber pistol fired five shots rapidly, two missed. One hit Shirley, who survived, one hit Jack's dog in the paw, and the last tore into the back of Jack's neck. Jack used to tell friends, You only live once.

SPEAKER_05 37:18

If you do it right, once is enough.

SPEAKER_08 37:21

Jack now laid face up on the pavement, his one life over.

SPEAKER_18 37:28

In our ninth and final episode, we follow Connie entering the NBA as a 27-year-old rookie with colossal expectations. And then we end our series by taking a trip into an alternate universe, the Connie verse, to see what Connie's career in life would have looked like if he wasn't wrongfully blackballed by the NBA.