Saturday, July 10, 1999
By KEITH A. IDEC
Herald & News
They come from virtually every enclave in New Jersey. They answer to such nicknames as "The Helmet Heads," "Ike" and "The Salad Man." They're a diverse group, including children, grandmothers, teachers, typical tailgate types and a mannequin that probably best exemplifies their liveliness.
And in a time when Arena Football has remained somewhat slow to catch on in an area featuring unlimited entertainment options, members of the Kennel Club serve as free advertisements for the New Jersey Red Dogs. Why? Only roughly 4,000-to-5,000 people attend the team's home games here, but this fan club consisting of between 400 and 500 members seems most interested in making the overall experience of a Red Dogs game every bit as attractive as attending a Giants or Jets game.
"We love this game," said Rockaway's Stephen Cafone, the Kennel Club vice president. "We want to make more people aware of this game and we want people to keep coming down."
Before the Kennel Club was created earlier this year, Cafone and four friends were coming down anyway in 1997, during the Red Dogs' inaugural season. Each has been hooked since setting foot in Continental Airlines Arena for the first time to watch the action-packed indoor game. By the conclusion of the '97 season, they were rabid Red Dogs' fans, already renowned for their rowdiness inside the building. Once Red Dogs brass took particular notice of their devotion at an away game in Albany last summer, Brian Agront, Bob Beyer, Cafone, Bruce DiBisceglie and Todd Freitag were asked about forming something official.
DiBisceglie, the Kennel Club president, has Jets season tickets several rows behind Gang Green's superfan, Eddie "The Fireman" Anzalone, so he knows a thing or two about being loyal. "We sent invitations to all the season ticket holder to join the club," DiBisceglie, of Mine Hill, recalled. "We thought we'd get 40, maybe 50 people. We got like 400 and we still get more people every day, even this far into the season."
Word spread regarding the Kennel Club once the operation went outside the doors of the arena. Before each home game, DiBisceglie's dilapidated 1984 Chevy van, commonly known as "The Big Red Box of Love," serves as the club's headquarters in section A23, just a couple hundred yards from the main entrance to the building. There they set up the grill, the tables full of food, the sound system and the party starts about 2 1/2 hours before a 7:30 p.m. game. The club is self-supportive, so everybody brings something to the tailgate. Jamesburg's Jim Campbell brings all the rolls from a neighborhood bakery and also serves as a one-man welcoming committee. Marty Kobovitch, also known as "The Salad Man," comes prepared from his Linden deli.
"It's a lot of fun," said Tom Potor, the onetime Rutherford High boys basketball coach and an elementary school teacher in the system. "The people here are just great. My kids (Sean and Kelly) come to the games and it's a real family atmosphere out here. I've gotten a number of people involved in this. Once you come to a game, you really love it." Potor's neighbor, Bloomfield's Jim Ranero, was once Potor's guinea pig. Now, he's also a full-fledged Red Dogs diehard.
"I came with my family and it's a great bargain," Ranero said. "My kids love it, the action and the fast pace of the game. Then you join the Kennel Club and it made it even better. You come here, you eat, you have a good time."
About five feet from Ranero sits Virginia Kiraly, who makes sure the Kennel Club eats something homemade at their pre-game parties. The affordability and the arena's accessibility for her disabled husband, Joseph, were what made the arena league initially attractive to Kiraly, her children and grandchildren, but the club's camaraderie has made the trip from Carteret more worth it. "They can't wait for the food to come when I bring it, just to see what I've brought this time," Kiraly said. "We can't wait to get here every week."
On the other side of the arena, a Garfield family can't wait to get here every week, either. Paul and Debbie Caldario, and their daughters, Gabby and Rachel, faithfully wait to greet Red Dogs players as they enter the arena. The Caldarios also run a club within "The Kennel Club," one recognizing Red Dogs star wide receiver/defensive back Alvin Ashley. They're far from anti-social, but they never wander over to the tailgates because they're superstitious sorts who don't want to spark bad luck for Ashley or the rest of the team. "They're kind of like my second family," said Ashley, one of the AFL's premier players. "They made T-shirts and signs, and they get pretty rowdy. I think that's what this game is all about. I meet with them and talk with them and we go out to dinner." The Kennel Club also helps pay Ashley's fines for standing on the hockey boards after scoring touchdowns. Thus far this season, Ashley has scored 23 touchdowns and he's fined $100 by the AFL each time for what it considers a dangerous celebration.
Yet perhaps no one says more about the Kennel Club than its speechless leader, Ike. His league-wide popularity prohibits members from referring to him as "The Mannequin" these days, and seemingly, everyone likes Ike. That is everyone except Cafone's wife, Lisa, who isn't entirely happy when Ike occupies their basement on non-gamedays.
"The reason Ike came to a game was that we had four tickets the first season and Bruce couldn't make one of the games," Cafone said. "We couldn't get anyone to go, so I said, 'I'm bringing the mannequin to the game.' ". The Red Dogs upset the Arizona Rattlers that night and Ike has attended every home game since. Ike even has an assigned seat in Section 123, which cost $19 in the form of a child's season ticket.
"Everybody talks about Ike," said Red Dogs president Joe Morris, the former Giants' tailback. "At the league meetings, they say, 'Joe, you've got a season ticket holder that's not alive.' And I say, 'Oh, yeah.' That's a pretty special thing. That takes real dedication when your mascot means something to you." Ike has attended away games with the club's hardcore members, too. When they don't make their way to places like Houston, Phoenix or Portland, they get together at "Charlie Brown's" restaurant in Montclair, even when the game is only broadcast on the radio. About 50 of them mingle at these indoor gatherings with "The Reebok Rush," the Red Dogs' dance team, Morris or ex-Jet Bruce Harper, one of Morris' ownership partners.
They're set for another assembly outdoors Saturday night, when the Red Dogs host the Iowa Barnstormers, a perennial AFL powerhouse, in a game pivotal to postseason positioning. "The Kennel Club is what arena football is all about," Morris said. "They are the greatest example of how this game is in other places. If we get more people like them attending our games, they're gonna make us a success in New Jersey. Maybe our attendance is not where it needs to be to be successful, but with people like them, we have an opportunity to make it."
Copyright © 1999 Gremac Inc.