In 2018, a tweeter claimed that I got whacked a week after the release of my 1989 book about the NFL and the Mafia

I have yet to see his documentation, but here's what I know

An homage to the NFL conference championship games today. . . .

Washington Commanders v. Philadelphia Eagles (3:00 P.M., Eastern)

Buffalo Bills v. Kansas City Chiefs (6:30 P.M., Eastern)

A 2018 post on Twitter claimed that I was murdered shortly after the release of my 1989 book, Interference: How Organized Crime Influences Professional Football.

I have not seen any evidence of my death. . . . But here is what I’ve heard.

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According to a federally protected witness, I was picked up outside The Old Europe restaurant on Wisconsin Avenue in Washington D. C. and taken to a nearby private residence in Georgetown, expecting to meet two Mafia guys and a mobbed-up local businessman.

When I arrived and stepped into the living room of the house, I saw that no one was there. The guy behind me pulled a gun and shot me in the back of the head. I was dead before I hit the floor.

The federal witness continued that, after taking me in the trunk of a car to a farm in Maryland just off I-95, my lifeless body was stuffed into a 55-gallon-oil drum, loaded onto a Gateway Transportation truck, and then shipped north on I-95 to Jersey City, where I was buried in an alcove under the Pulaski Skyway, next to a garbage dump that was owned by a major Mafia guy in New Jersey.

Beginning in April 2007, a crazy investigative reporter—who claimed that he was “Ahab” and that I was his “white whale”—found and recorded several interviews with the Mafia guy, who confirmed what the federal witness had told the FBI. Specifically, the mobster, who died in 2014, told the reporter that the witness “basically had it right.”

In September 2019, the reporter received an introduction to the son of the Mafia guy’s business partner who told the reporter that the Mafia guy ordered his father to bury me in the dump.

Furious that he had been left alone to perform this grizzly task, his father decided to bury me in the oil drum in a nearby alcove under the Pulaski Skyway—so only he would know my location. With the hole wide open, the father placed a load of steel drums on top of my barrel and bulldozed the perimeter flat.

Before he died, the father gave his son the exact location of my burial site. And the son later shared the information with the reporter. Also, the son gave the reporter a tour of the alcove, which the reporter filmed. In addition, at the reporter’s request, the son executed a sworn declaration about the specifics in October 2019. Further, he offered to take a polygraph test.

After breaking his story in November—and the death of the son in March 2020 from a chronic respiratory ailment before the polygraph test—the reporter received a call in September 2020 from two FBI special agents who asked for his cooperation. The reporter, who was then seventy years old, agreed, looking for a happy ending to his long career.

The reporter even created a protected online site for the FBI with key videos, photographs, documents, and timelines.

The FBI arranged a command performance for the reporter in March 2021 at the FBI’s Newark Field Office with top FBI officials and federal prosecutors from Washington and Newark in attendance.

The reporter, appearing alone, gave a 45-minute presentation. To his surprise, he received enthusiastic support from one of the prosecutors present, the only person in the room older than the reporter. Notably, years earlier, that attorney had interviewed the FBI’s protected witness and knew him to be both credible and important.

After the meeting, the group drove to the Pulaski Skyway, and the reporter gave the FBI and the prosecutors a tour of the alcove.

A few months later, the FBI filed an affidavit, principally based on the reporter’s work, with the U.S. District Court in Newark. After his evaluation, a federal judge authorized a search warrant for the FBI, adding that “probable cause” existed that I was buried in the alcove.

During the FBI’s official trip to the alcove in October 2021, the FBI did no excavating. They appeared to be using ground penetrating radar (GPR) scanning while drilling probes into the ground.

To his chagrin, the reporter who started all this was not invited and received no advance notice about this operation. And he was very upset when he found out about it a week later.

The alcove was under the jurisdiction of the New Jersey Department of Transportation (NJ-DOT) that controlled everything on and under the Skyway. Earlier, in the fall of 2019, the reporter assembled a team of trusted colleagues to work with the DOT and obtain the necessary permits.

The month after the FBI’s preliminary work in the alcove, a trusted member of the reporter’s team, without the reporter’s knowledge, took a friend of his who owned a private construction company with a ground penetrating radar division into the alcove to conduct their own scans.

The company’s sophisticated equipment detected what appeared to be a pile of barrels, along with a single barrel—presumably the one that held my dead and decomposed body—at the bottom of the hole.

Six months later, in April 2022, the team’s private construction company—this time with the reporter’s knowledge—did a second GPR examination in the alcove. Conducted by a different GPR technician than the one who did the earlier scan, the new tech man discovered the same underground field of barrels as the first. Thus, the location was corroborated.

However, instead of giving the official GPR results to the FBI’s Newark Field Office, the private company gave them to the field office in Washington, D.C., which had the lead role in the ongoing investigation of my murder.

In July 2022, the reporter learned from another journalist that the FBI had conducted an excavation of the alcove the previous month during the first week of June. He said that the FBI had found nothing.

The reporter—who, once again, knew nothing about the dig—called the lead FBI special agent in Newark and asked whether the excavation included the exact spot that the reporter’s team had spoon-fed to the Washington office.

The Newark FBI man replied that he didn’t know anything about that. The reporter angrily responded that had he been there, the FBI would not have missed the location of my dead body.

During a Zoom meeting with a top FBI official at the Washington field office, the reporter and the captain of his team in Los Angeles received an admission that the FBI missed the exact spot that their GPR company had given to the FBI the previous April. And it appeared that, via a miscommunication, the evidence from the reporter’s team was not sent from Washington to Newark.

The members of the reporter’s team are still waiting to return to the alcove—which has been under construction by the state’s DOT for several months—to finish the job.

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After all these years, I really want that reporter who calls himself “Ahab” to finally find his “white whale” and arrange for my recovery.

It’s cold, and it’s dark down here in this 55-gallon-oil drum. And, after all these years, I just want to go home to be laid to rest near my family and friends.

BTW: 50 years ago—on July 30, 1975—Jimmy Hoffa disappeared. . . . In the coming months, I will have a lot to say about this case.

I will be 75 next month, so it’s use it or lose it time.

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