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I Miss When Atlantic City Was Powerful Enough to Make Dennis Rodman Lose Track of an Entire Day and Miss His Game
By Matt Schultz
Published:
Remember when Atlantic City used to draw professional athletes to town to hang out and almost ruin their lives in a fun way? Dennis Rodman does:
“I missed one game – I was having such a goddamn good time, I went to a strip club in New York, and then I left the strip club and then… I went to Atlantic City and hit this stripper I was with, and then I had her ass go around to play some fuckin’ dice. And then I was sitting there playing dice all fucking night, and next thing you know, I forgot what time it was. I said, ‘Oh shit, I got a game… but it’s 5 o’clock in the goddamn evening. I missed the fucking game.’ That’s one story. That’s the real story… I forgot the damn game… I was having a really good time, having a really good time.”
These were the golden years of Atlantic City. I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t want to hear about the Rat Pack. I don’t want to hear about the Beatles playing Boardwalk Hall. I don’t want to hear about the jazz history in the ‘20s, or the Prohibition years, or anything like that. Atlantic City reached the peak of its powers in the ‘90s. It hit heights it never had before and, sadly, probably never will again.
A.C. had NBA players driving all the way down the Parkway every time they were in New York playing the Knicks. That’s not a close drive! That’s two hours and fifteen minutes at least – probably closer to two-and-a-half. But the bright lights of America’s Playground were so enchanting, so mesmerizing, so powerful that the drive was nothing. These players would’ve walked if they had to. Atlantic City had everything they could ever want, back when things were right in the world. Mike Tyson whooping ass at Convention Hall. Michael Jordan gambling his life away at Bally’s. And Dennis Rodman playing dice in an unnamed strip club so intensely he lost track of time for an entire day (???) and missed the Bulls game entirely.
It’s a shame those days are over. Pro athletes used to love Atlantic City. Now I’d venture to guess the vast majority of them have never been there in their lives. A.C. has nothing for today’s athletes. They just don’t get it. They’re too boring. All they want to do now is play Fortnite and do Twitch streams in their strangely-lit bedrooms and make bad documentaries about returning from Achilles tears and marry incredibly hot influencer/models when they’re like 26 and immediately have kids and disappear forever, save for the occasional tweet about club soccer. They have no personality. They don’t know how to have fun. They’re a bunch of lame-ass goofballs. They don’t know how to talk to people. They can’t even celebrate winning championships correctly. To think that these are the ones who were meant to carry on Atlantic City’s long history of star-studded debauchery brings tears to my eyes…
I’ve been reading that the younger generations are beginning to rebel against phone addiction and living life online. Experts are predicting that real-life gatherings like concerts and sporting events will retake their place at the center of culture. Truthfully, I don’t see it. That’s tough to imagine. But that doesn’t mean I can’t pray it happens…
Here’s to hoping the projections are right, and by 2035 our nation’s best athletes and role models are once again disappearing into Atlantic City for 36 straight hours, missing games, losing all their money, being bad teammates/friends/fathers/husbands, and giving us stories worth telling on podcasts – which is exactly what Atlantic City is here for.
Matt Schultz is a comedy and sports writer from Philadelphia. He’s written extensively for ClickHole, The Onion, and Conan O’Brien’s Team Coco. His work has been featured in Vulture, Deadspin, The A.V. Club, Paste Magazine, and other publications. Much of his sports journalism can be found on college basketball websites that don’t exist anymore (PhilaHoops Heads rise up…) email: M.Schultz@sportradar.com