BRONX, NY – A 10,000-watt light has gone out. This past Sunday I received word that my dear friend, Richie Perlongo (known around these parts as CheesyBruin), had passed away after an over three decade toe-to-toe heavyweight brawl with cancer.
He now joins the MTM honored dead hall-of-fame roll alongside Big Al Sternberg (Fake Sandy Alderson), Trevor Herrick (Replacement Matt), and my brother Chris (CNC63).
My earliest memory of Richie was during third grade at Public School 7 in the Kingsbridge section of the Bronx. It was recess and we were playing punchball in the schoolyard with my best friend Kevin (Grote2DMax) and others. In a tight game, Rich was at the plate. Just as the whistle blew for us all to return to class, a pitch was delivered. Rather than punching at it (it was PUNCHball, after all), Richie instead opened his hand and in one move scooped the ball up and onto the roof for what he claimed was the game-winning, walkoff (before this was ever a term) home run. We all protested vehemently, but he was having none of it, the lousy cheat. I would come discover that my new friend was also quite good at cheating at cards and Strat-O-Matic baseball and, much later in life, even managed to cheat death multiple times. Legend.
As we moved into our teens, Richie introduced me, and pretty much our entire Junior High School, to the world of sports wagering. We started with ubiquitous college and pro football parlay betting sheets, which always carried the hilarious language: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. Those sheets were fun as hell, even though you almost never won. Later, through “family” connections, he was able to place wagers for us with a bookie. Richie loved gambling, and was actually quite good at it. His High School yearbook quote was, “It is better to have bet and lost than to never have bet at all.” He would bet on college basketball games that no one else even cared about. Half the schools you barely even heard of. But when Rich said, “Duquesne is a lock tonight,” more often than not, you listened and asked him to put you in for 20 bucks. He also loved playing the ponies, and we all quickly followed suit.There were some great days spent and Belmont Park, and even better nights spent playing the trotters at Yonkers Raceway. 
Our crowning horse racing achievement, however, came years later when my daughter was in second grade. I told my kid that I was taking her out of school early one day so she could go to an orthodontist appointment.Instead, we rolled up to her school in Rich’s car, got her buckled safely in the back seat, and proceeded to make our way towards the Major Deegan. After we were on the road for a while, my daughter picked up on the fact that we weren’t going to the orthodontist, but were instead going to Belmont. She was furious at me for lying to her. I tried to explain that I only did so because I was worried she’d tell her teacher, “Dad’s taking me to the track.” She was having none of it. Rich looked at me and said, “Don’t worry, she’ll forgive you by the third race.” He was right.
An avid Cowboys fan, Richie also alternately supported the Orioles and, later, the Mets in baseball. Anyone but the Yankees, really. He also followed the high-scoring, zero defense, Doug Moe-led Denver Nuggets teams of the 1980s. But his one true sports love was the Boston Bruins. Everything else was a distant second. He couldn’t get enough of hockey. Slap Shot was his favorite movie. When his beloved Bruins finally broke through, after an almost 40-year drought, and won the Stanley Cup in 2011, 
Richie got to see one of the games live in Boston (was it Game 6?) courtesy of our old friend Kevin.I think it just about made his life to get to do that and, when they won Game 7 in Vancouver, he was over the moon.
He’s up there now, with the stars, where he belongs. I’ve only touched on the sports stuff here. Richie was a larger-than-life personality, with a laugh to match. He was funny, kind, and fiercely loyal. You could not ask for a better friend. I’ll miss him terribly, but I’ll never forget him.
