:02:02
It was the summer of '58.
:02:04
The year the Dodgers
left Brooklyn.
:02:06
The summer
Dion and the Belmonts...
:02:08
were blasting
out of every car radio...
:02:10
and the summer
that I first fell in love.
:02:13
It was the summer
Marco Vendetti...
:02:14
came home from prison...
:02:17
and the streets of Sunset Park
ran red with blood.
:02:24
My brother Leon started a gang
called the Deuces...
:02:26
after our brother Alley died.
:02:29
Our job
was to protect the block.
:02:31
-Leon.
-Hey, Fritzy.
:02:33
-You need anything?
-I'll let you know, kid.
:02:36
But it was a local mob guy
named Fritzy...
:02:38
who really ran
the neighborhood.
:02:40
He pretended to be
everybody's best friend.
:02:43
Get yourself an ice cream.
:02:45
But he was only in it
for himself.
:02:49
Scooch. Center field.
:03:03
On the corner of Sixth Street
and Second, the Deuces ruled.
:03:06
Hey, Pops.
Grandson gettin' better?
:03:09
He's good.
:03:11
-Hey, what?
-Aw, it's horrible.
:03:13
We hung out at a candy store
called Willie's...
:03:15
where we ran bootleg cigarettes,
illegal fireworks...
:03:18
and did a little bookmaking
on the side.
:03:20
Hey, we had to make a livin'.
:03:22
Aw, come on. They're playin'
like little girls here.
:03:25
What, did he throw it
underhand?
:03:27
Oh, Scooch. We're havin' fun.
:03:29
Ah, the Dodgers lost again.
:03:31
The usual, Scooch.
:03:33
I told 'em. They ain't gonna
win in Los Angeles.
:03:35
They shouldn't have left
Brooklyn.
:03:36
Come on, I never seen 'em cry.
:03:38
The last game,
they wept like a baby.
:03:42
How are you?
:03:43
Go on. Fuck the Dodgers.
:03:45
Fuck Pee Wee, fuck Jackie,
and fuck the fuckin' Duke.
:03:49
Don't say that, Tommy! Don't
say, "Fuck the fuckin' Duke."
:03:52
Hey, listen. Everybody knows
he signed your friggin' glove.
:03:55
Get over it. They left.
:03:58
I ain't rootin' for 'em
no more.
:03:59
'cause you're
a fair-weather fan.