Frankie Pentangeli

I don't know why, but today I was thinking about one of my favorite scenes from The Godfather. Well, Godfather II to be exact. It's that scene when there is some sort of grand jury or senate commission or something like that convened to bring down the hammer on La Cosa Nostra, and the Corleone family to be exact. Frankie Pentangeli had apparently been "flipped" and was all set to testify that Michael was the ring leader of the Corleone crime family and that he had given orders for misdeeds over many years.

Just like any other big fish, Michael is not just going to roll up into a ball and let this happen. He's far too smooth for that. He's also far too civilized to do something rash like having Pentangeli knocked off. No, instead, he went for the subtle...the understated. Anyway, Michael appears in court with some little guy that's clearly from the "old country (Sicily)" and merely sits with him in the courtroom as Frankie is called upon for questions. At some point, Frankie makes eye contact with this guy and immediately changes his story to be completely contrary to what he had testified to in his sworn affidavit.

It turns out that the guy is Frankie's brother, who not only flew all the way from Sicily and stepped straight off the plane and into the court room, but spoke no English and would board a plane to return to Sicily immediately following the proceedings. Here's the rub. Michael knew that blood runs very deep and that Frankie would never be able to be a rat and bring shame to his family. No words were spoken. None were needed.

Maybe I like understatement. Yeah, that's probably it. I love subtlety. I delight in it. I look forward to it.I love it that Alex English would get a boring 30 points per game with supreme footwork and a buttery smooth jump shot. I didn't always, but then it clicked for me one day. Tim Duncan's game is equally not suited for the highlight reel. But I love it. I've come to appreciate going to upscale restaurants where the food is so pretty that and they spread it out all the way to the furthest reaches of the plate, and then sprinkle some paprika to add some color. I love it that Miles Davis played with his back to the crowd and toward the end of his career, played the muted trumpet almost exclusively, only chiming in with a note here and there while the rest of his band played furiously, and yet you lived for that here and there note.

Despite my love for the music of Miles, I'd be lying if I didn't give top billing to my favorite musical understatement of all time courtesy of the Archbishop Riordan High School Crusader Band. Back in high school I lived to play against these guys. Not only were they the class of the West Catholic Athletic League in basketball, they also had a band that was the essence of cool. Before I was in high school, going to watch these guys play was almost like going to a college or pro game. These guys had such a swagger and uniforms like the Showtime Lakers. When I finally made it to High School, this was the team that I most looked forward to playing against, since you have to beat the best to be the best.(I think we were 0-10, including a few nail-biters and overtime battles, but we never emerged victorious).

But even as entertaining as they were on the court, the Band was the icing on the cake. If you didn't see the band, you almost felt cheated. Perhaps it's commonplace in the South or on the East Coast for the Band to be almost as highly regarded as a competitive sport, but not so in California. "Band and Geek" are more likely heard in the same sentence around here than "Band and Scholarship". But that's what made their band all the more remarkable. If there was a hit song that everybody loved from the radio, they played it to perfection, and they played classics like Louie Louie ( here's the most famous version by The Kingsmen, with some clever video added by some YouTuber with too much time on his hands http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7h6U5fZ1c7Q&feature=related ). This was probably their best number. It wasn't just that they played it well, it's how they eased into it. Where the Kingsmen lead in with a piano or organ chord, the Crusader Band used Tubas. At first it was just a couple of them, and then Several of them, and it was very loud. Then the trumpets and trombones jumped in and the bass drummers did their thing too. You know that Vitamin Water commercial where Curtis "50-Cent" Jackson is conducting for an orchestra? It was like that, except that this orchestra all were wearing purple letterman's jackets with a yellow R on the left breast. Louie Louie was the signature song for this crew, but they were at their best in show on another number. They'd usually save this one for a late game time-out when the game was at its peak. I can't remember what the song was called, but it was something upbeat like a Duke Ellington or Count Basie Orchestra might play and had several movements. During the middle of the song, one of the band members walks out to half-court and with the insouciance of a zamboni driver at a hockey game, proceeds to set up a xylophone and then an easel with some sheet music. With his little hammer (or whatever the thing is called with which you play a xylophone) in hand, he feigned deep concentration as he studied the sheet music as if trying to find the place in the song where the rest of the band was, so as to not miss his part. The band is absolutely jammin' and the suspense is killing you as you wait for this guy to play what is surely going to be an outstanding solo. When the buzzer sounds, signaling the players to come out of their time-outs and return to the court, you begin to think that maybe he's not going to get his chance, until suddenly the band gets to its dramatic finish, and then goes completely silent. Right on queue, the guy at mid-court plays 3 notes and then the band plays one last note and the crowd goes absolutely bonkers.

Again, I don't know why subtlety and understatement were on my mind today, but it was fun to reminisce.