Ice Capades
Why Philly's mob and hockey team have a crush on one another.

by Brendan McGarvey

Underworld
When the Flyers won the Stanley Cup in 1974 and 1975, a generation of South Philly kids who'd grow up to run the local Mafia spent countless hours playing street hockey in alleys, parking lots and playgrounds. Like many other Philadelphians, they proudly sported the local hockey team's orange-and-white jersey and lined the parade route when they won it all.

ORANGE AND BLACK EYE: Just like fans who recently packed the Wachovia Center, local mobsters were longtime Flyers backers who admired the likes of Rick Tocchet.
ORANGE AND BLACK EYE: Just like fans who recently packed the Wachovia Center, local mobsters were longtime Flyers backers who admired the likes of Rick Tocchet.
Photo By: Michael T. Regan


The teenage wannabes admired the physical style of play that earned the team its "Broad Street Bullies" moniker. They often talked about the bloody brawls on ice and the men who fought them: young, tough guys from small Canadian towns who were willing to lose teeth, scrape skin, bruise fists and rip jerseys just for the hell of it. To them, the goals scored seemed secondary to getting paid decent money to toil in such a violent realm.

The future gangsters, it seemed, respected physical and financial power, even at a young age.

So when Joey Merlino and his crew began hanging out at the South Philly sports bar Legends, they ate up the opportunity to meet and drink with their team's current-day heroes, including tough guy Rick Tocchet, who was known as much for his ability to fight as for his ability to score.

As New Jersey officials continue investigating a gambling ring allegedly run by a state trooper and Tocchet, the current assistant coach of the NHL's Phoenix Coyotes, it comes as no surprise that much attention's being paid to possible mob ties.

But both law enforcement officials and local mobsters say it ain't so—to a point.

While Tocchet and another Flyer sometimes socialized with Merlino, a close associate of the imprisoned mobster tells City Paper that "Joey didn't hang with them to go into business with them. He liked them and they liked him. Did Joey bet on hockey? Yeah. Joey bet on anything that moved. But he never involved people like Tocchet because they was his friends."

Seven years ago, before Merlino went to jail on a federal racketeering conviction, he told City Paper that he lost a lot of money on the Flyers. He claimed that never would have been the case if he had inside information.

"Never happened," Merlino said. "Never asked those guys anything."

In the mid-1990s, Merlino befriended several other professional baseball, football and hockey players. He claimed only to have met Flyers team captain Eric Lindros two or three times, but two underworld sources now claim they palled around more frequently than that.

"Merlino's younger sister went on two or three dates with Lindros," says an ex-girlfriend of a former high-ranking Philly mobster. "Lindros was around more than Joey says. They liked hanging with each other. They were both celebrities."

Apparently, Lindros wasn't the only Flyer said to like mob stories. According to two local TV sources, several players asked a local TV-sports producer in the mid-'90s to obtain a copy of the WHYY series, Mobfathers, for them. (The five-hour history of organized crime focused heavily on the local mob.) The sports producer eventually got a copy and gave it to a team employee and several players later told him they had watched the series on road trips and then lent the documentary to several Flyers who wanted to see it again.

"They loved that stuff," the sports producer said. "It was better than The Godfather. They watched it a couple of times."

As it turns out, future New Jersey State Trooper James J. Harney, was also at Legends during this era of mutual admiration. As the bartender at the establishment in the shadows of the sporting arenas, Harney was in the mix with high-profile athletes, young mobsters and sports fans.

Today, he's in the mix when it comes to the countless stories about Operation Slap Shot, the investigation that uncovered the alleged Tocchet/Harney gambling ring, and speculation about hockey legend Wayne Gretzky's involvement, on front pages across the U.S. and Canada.

The investigation is far from over and more names of current and former NHL players who bet on professional football games and other sports—but not hockey—may emerge.

The embattled State Police are red-faced that one of their own, Harney, allegedly took bets and helped run the gambling ring. He not only did so while on duty, but on a cell phone inside his patrol car, investigators say. Sources add that Harney is not the only trooper under investigation; at least one of Harney's supervisors has been questioned by the state Attorney General's office after allegedly turning a blind eye to Harney's gambling operation.

Meanwhile, the FBI and various Pennsylvania law-enforcement agencies are more than a little miffed that they weren't included in the investigation.

"The New Jersey State Police were looking into one of their own, and they're embarrassed," one local law enforcement source says. "So they shut everybody else out. Now we're being told, don't hurt the investigation into mob connections but don't offer any help either, unless Jersey officially requests our help."

For their part, New Jersey investigators are looking into ties between the gambling ring and reputed Philly crime family underboss Anthony Staino, imprisoned former underboss, Joseph "Mousy" Massimino and an unnamed mob associate who took over Massimino's South Philly and South Jersey bookmaking operations when Mousie went to jail two years ago. (He pleaded guilty to New Jersey state charges of illegal gambling and loan sharking.)

They may even learn, according to one local mob associate, that members of the Philadelphia Cosa Nostra may have placed bets with the Tocchet/Harney sports book but that no members were involved in running the illegal gambling operation. When asked whether the alleged ring paid "protection money," or a "street tax," to operate, the mobster refused to comment.

"Sometimes it is just what it is," he says. "A guy may be a bartender and may know connected guys. That doesn't mean he's in business with them."