Michael Smerconish: HOW I GOT THE BIRD

April 3, 2008

Daily News Opinion Columnist

ANOTHER South Philly guy is in the news for getting jammed up.

And while everybody else is wondering what one Dougherty's guilty plea means to another Dougherty, I'm thinking about the eagle on my desk.

Until the end of last week, I hadn't kept close track of the criminal case against Donald "Gus" Dougherty. Like everyone else, I've now read that he's pleading guilty to 98 of 100 counts of theft and tax offenses - just not the two that allege illegal payments to John J. Dougherty.

I know both Doughertys, although one far better than the other. I've known Johnny Doc for years. I think I met Gus Dougherty only once, but it's a day I won't soon forget. That's when he gave me the eagle.

Mike Baldini introduced us. Baldini is another Philly guy (Father Judge, La Salle University), but not one in any trouble with the feds. He's a Runyonesque fellow in his early 40s who used to run sales for my radio station, and now does the same at KYW.

He was born in South Philly, grew up in the Great Northeast and is raising his family in a Montgomery County town with "ville" at the end of it. I have a hard time picturing him in the 'burbs.

Baldini is fun to watch: fast-talking, mind always racing, constantly sizing up people he meets with an innate sense of street smarts. He's perfectly suited for his sales-manager job.

He's a people person. In a previous life, I could see him working as a maître d' at one of the big casino showrooms, making sure that Sinatra had enough Jack in his dressing room while simultaneously deciding who sits where out front.

One day a few years ago, Baldini said he needed me for a sales call in South Philly with an electrical contractor named Dougherty. I told him I already knew Johnny Doc. Baldini said this was another South Philly guy named Dougherty who also knew a thing or two about fuses.

I said I'd go if he took me to lunch at Shanks. He agreed.

Gus Dougherty's office was special. It was one of those environments where the women were especially pleasant, called you "hun" and wanted to know if they could "get you a cup."

Upstairs, Gus had a plush suite with sports memorabilia, a big fish tank and a comfortable leather sofa, which is where he held court - and where I first spied the eagle.

IT'S A GOLD likeness about a foot high with its wings fully extended, sitting on a plain wooden base. It's not real gold and isn't a trophy awarded for a particular event or exploit, but to see it is to know it has history. I told Gus I thought it was beautiful. He immediately told me he wanted me to have it. I told him I couldn't.

Then he said, "It used to belong to Leonard Tose," referring to the former owner of a team full of Eagles. I've had a soft spot for Tose since I was a kid and spotted him riding his bike and wearing a green velour tracksuit on the Atlantic City boardwalk.

We chatted that morning and, he was awfully nice to me, a young boy. His aide de camp, Jimmy Murray, has since told me endless stories of Tose's kindness and charity. I'll bet Tose would have liked Gus, but I don't think they ever met.

I asked Gus how he got Tose's eagle. He said that Tose lived his final days at the Warwick Hotel on 17th Street, and that Tose had given it to the hotel doorman as a sign of appreciation. The doorman gave it to Gus for reasons that were unclear - or I have since forgotten.

Now Gus wanted to give it to me.

I hemmed and hawed, then finally accepted. I rationalized my acceptance by thinking that Tose would like knowing that the newest keeper of the eagle appreciated his contribution to the city, and was once thrilled to meet him down the Shore.

It was a gracious gift from a guy who's now jammed up. Gus could do time, which is sad.

And me? I'm recording the provenance of the eagle while sitting on my desk and wondering who'll get it when I'm gone. I hope it's someone who appreciates what a small town this is.

And maybe it will end up on Sen. Dougherty's desk in Harrisburg. *

Listen to Michael Smerconish weekdays 5-9 a.m. on the Big Talker, 1210/AM. Read him Sundays in the Inquirer. Contact him via the Web at www.mastalk.com.