The articles on his website, one from the New York Times, the New York Post, and stories mentioning his victories at shooting contests was a pleasure to read. Since my left leg gave out, my playing days, which were as inconsistent as a bad racehorse, are over, so being a spectator, fan,etc makes do.īack to Jack. Without Hoops, my life would still be OK, but it’s a bit more OK with hoops in it, whether talking sports or watching it. At the moment, I’m out of public school teaching, doing other work, but if/when I get into the public schools (the recession does affect the public schools, too) or even a private school, at the least I’ll be watching games, if not trying to get a coaching job. Hey, a job connected with hoops is a job connected with hoops. In fact, I think I saw one of those games at the Garden. I think he got a job playing on the team that intentionally lost to the Harlem Globetrotters. All respect to those who may not believe in God, but “God’s work” is God’s work, and when Jack puts smiles on those kid’s faces, he is definitely contributing to society, not to mention giving those kids a story for the ages. In one of the articles on “blackjack’s” website, an article printed in a 2003 New York Times, a nun who was with some kids is quoted as saying to Jack that he was “doing God’s work.” I believe that too. Besides earning a living, doing something that he loves and does well, he’s putting smiles on kids faces as they watch the “wizard” do his thing. Now, taking a guy of Jack Ryan’s caliber, and that effect is 100-fold. In addition, they would behave better in my class, since we developed a bond. When I used to play hoops with some of the inner-city students in my classes at Brooklyn Automotive High, the kids would get a kick out of an occasional good move by me. I used to look up to guys like him, at least on the court, and it’s good to see that he’s doing well, both business-wise and society-wise. Good to see a neighborhood guy, or the next neighborhood over guy, doing well.

Blackjack the jack ryan story