It turns out Mel Gibson is not the only one with drinking problems these days. Now, Robin Williams has checked himself into a clinic. The actor/comedian has supposedly been dry for the last 20 years but only recently fell off the wagon. Williams’s publicist, however, has not commented as to when exactly he started drinking again.

My guess is around the time of Bicentennial Man.

Galley Friend S.B. writes, “For the record, I walk the slugger. But I’m also a bad person. I’ve made that choice, and I’ll live with it.”

That is a level to which even I will not go. And that’s saying something.

But does it feature Bijou Phillips?

(That’s just a shout-out to M.G.)

Galley Brother B.J. notes that on Amazon, some Wii games has release dates as early as October 2.

Is this typical Amazonian guestimation, or a sign?

The LA Times has done it again with this fabulous story:

Roughly once a month, the NBA cuts 31 checks to NBA teams as revenue from its multibillion-dollar national television contract.

There are only 30 NBA franchises, so who gets the extra check?

The money goes to brothers Ozzie and Dan Silna, co-owners of the long-forgotten ABA team, the Spirits of St. Louis.

Thirty years ago, Ozzie Silna, with attorney Donald Schupak, negotiated a deal that cleared the way for the ABA to merge with the NBA. It ranks as one of the best sports deals in modern times, one that has paid the Silnas about $168 million and continues to pay off. . . .

Part of the Silnas’ deal called for them to receive one-seventh of the annual TV revenue from each of the four ABA teams entering the NBA. The deal turned out to be so lucrative that several NBA teams have tried to break it, without success. . . .

The key line in the Silnas’ TV contract that makes NBA executives cringe reads: “The right to receive such revenues shall continue for as long as the NBA or its successors continues in its existence.”

In other words, the deal lasts as long as the NBA does.

Another key component is that Silna, anticipating the NBA expanding, capped the brothers’ portion of shared television revenue at a maximum of 28 teams. The other NBA teams share their revenue among all 30 teams. . . .

In 1976 the ABA reached a merger deal with the NBA. The NBA agreed to take four of the six teams from the dismantling ABA. The Spirits and the Kentucky Colonels were not invited to join the league. However, the ABA owners needed to reach unanimous approval for the merger to take place.

John Y. Brown, owner of the Kentucky Colonels, quickly accepted a $3.3-million buyout as compensation. That deal was also offered to the Silnas.

But Ozzie Silna kept haggling for more, and he finally reached a deal in a swank Massachusetts hotel room. The Silnas would get $3 million, plus a share of the TV revenue from the four teams entering the NBA.

The story gets better.

I’d venture to guess that the “share” that the Silnas own is more profitable than some of the small-market NBA teams. The only thing the Times story doesn’t address is what happens to this arrangement upon Silnas’ death? Does that stream of revenue pass to their estate?

Whoever their contract attorney was, he deserves to be in the Legal Hall of Fame.

The next time someone complains about what a terrible paper the Los Angeles Times is, send them this unbelievable Claire Hoffman profile of Girls Gone Wild creator Joe Francis. In terms of writerly and reportorial degree of difficulty, this is the hardest-to-execute piece I’ve read in a very long time.

You know what? You’re sassy and I love it–give her a T-shirt.

When you’re trying to convince people to pay $600 for your video game console largely because it has a blu-ray player, it might not be the best idea to come out and talk about how the future is digital downloading and not disc drives.

I’m not going to sit here and tell you that Invincible, the movie about the life of Eagles walk-on Vince Papale, is the greatest film ever made. The history of cinema has some amazing achievements, and to be totally honest, The 400 Blows, Citizen Kane, and Casablanca are all better than Invincible.

Not by much, though.

A few unsorted thoughts:

(1) Making a movie like this is harder than you think. Inspirational sports stories are mass-produced and every scene and sentiment already exists in an off-the-shelf version. You have to make conscious decisions to avoid these pre-fab moments. First-time director Ericson Core (whose name sounds like a cell phone) pulls this off at almost every turn.

(2) Are there one or two beats where it feels like you’re watching Rudy: The NFL Years? Admittedly, yes. But these are the exceptions.

(3) Core and the production staff have gotten late-’70s Philadelphia exactly right: the striking union workers, the residential neighborhoods cheek-by-jowl with industrial space, the trash-strewn streets, the working-class neighborhoods and row-houses. This is what the gritty, waning metropolis felt like during those dark days.

(4) The cast is also perfectly Philadelphia. Nobody in this movie looks like an actor (with two exceptions)–the faces are ruddy and mottled. Even Marky Mark looks aged and weather-beaten. It’s a performance without vanity.

(5) Greg Kinnear does for Dick Vermeil what Will Smith did for Ali. It’s uncanny. Also uncanny is how much actress Elizabeth Banks looks like a blonde Parker Posey.

(6) There is one moment of brief homage to Boogie Nights which will thrill PTA fans. And if I was a cruel, unfeeling movie critic from, say, Dallas, I would stupidly complain that at times you half expect Papale to turn to Vermeil and ask, “Do you want me to use the Spanish accent this time, coach?”

(7) Endings are hard. Very, very hard. Invincible ends perfectly, at the exact right moment. And the coda with 8mm clips of the real Papale and Vermeil is genius.