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But there is the matter of Angelo Lonardo. In a 1987 New York mob trial, Lonardo testified that DeBartolo Sr. asked known mobsters for help handling labor contracts. Lonardo, the Cleveland underboss until he became a defector, said DeBartolo asked Milton "Maishe" Rockman for assistance on several occasions.
"Well, whenever there was a contract that come up with the racetrack, DiBartola [sic] would ask Maishe to please see that he would get a good contract," Lonardo said, according to reports published in the Plain Dealer. The elder DeBartolo dismissed the charge as "bullshit."But this time, DeBartolo Jr.'s luck had run out. After stepping down voluntarily from 49ers management in December 1997, he was formally suspended from running the team by the NFL in March of this year. Some said it was the owners' way of getting back at him for years of snubs and arrogance. Either way, control of the team fell to his estranged sister.
When DeBartolo first stepped down, Policy was expected to play a greater role in the 49ers organization, perhaps even fulfilling a longtime goal of getting a 5 percent ownership stake in the club. But relations between the once-close friends had grown strained, to the point that DeBartolo was reported to be considering firing Policy and installing Bill Walsh as head of the team.
"I think a lot of it was probably jealousy," Carmen Marino says of the split between Policy and DeBartolo. "Eddie didn't have the talent that Carmen did and probably didn't like the idea that 'I own the team, and you're getting all the play.'"
Never one to be caught off guard, Policy had begun exploring escape routes some years earlier. Two sources confirm that he was part of a group of investors who approached Art Modell in the early 1990s about selling the Browns. Primarily from Youngstown, the group worked through back channels to gauge Modell's asking price and willingness to sell. Modell never seriously entertained their overtures.
"It's not something that went anywhere or was even proposed to go anywhere," says one source close to Modell. "It was a conversation [with Modell], a 'here's an idea' kind of thing."
But in July 1998, with DeBartolo Jr. under investigation and his own future in doubt, Policy needed to go somewhere. Once again, he showed an incredible knack for pulling out just before the house of cards collapsed. And once again, he landed next to one of the wealthiest men in the country.
Policy resigned as president of the San Francisco 49ers and flew to Cleveland. Clad in an uncharacteristically garish suit (brown, with an orange tie), he appeared at a press conference with Al Lerner to announce the duo's intention to enter the bidding for the expansion Browns. It was a stunning press conference, with a packed room of reporters fawning over Cleveland's newest mover and shaker. And the presence of Mayor White and Browns legend Bernie Kosar left little doubt about the outcome.
So it came as no surprise when the NFL approved Lerner's $530 million bid for the team -- with Policy getting a 10 percent ownership stake. Policy also reportedly doubled his salary from his days as president of the 49ers, to $1.5 million.
"He hit the jackpot many times over with Lerner," says one source.
"If you walk into a room full of people, and you want to know who the richest guy in the room is, just watch who Carmen spends the majority of his time with," adds one lawyer derisively. "In the old days, the wealthiest and most powerful guy in Mahoning County was 'Eddie D' Sr., and that's who he latched onto. Eddie D Sr. is gone, Eddie D Jr. is a washout, and now he's found Al Lerner."
In the rush to embrace the new franchise, the irony of Policy's transformation from criminal defender to messiah of football-hungry Browns fans has been lost on all but a few people. One of Policy's colleagues from his days defending sleazy mobsters chuckles to himself when he thinks about the ethnic kid from Youngstown rubbing elbows with Cleveland's upper crust.
"I read that he was at the art museum last week," says the local defense attorney. "From defending Tony Dope [Tony Delsanter] to the art museum. I thought, 'Boy, times have changed.' "
They certainly have. Policy now seems a lifetime removed from his humble beginnings and controversial past. But every once in a while, it still rears its ugly head -- like this past summer, when former Mahoning County Sheriff Phil Chance was on trial at the federal courthouse in Cleveland. Chance was eventually sent to prison after being convicted of racketeering.
At one point in the trial, Assistant U.S. Attorney Craig Morford was questioning Chance about his ties to organized crime. Two people had already testified that Chance was close to Joey Naples. Chance denied it, saying he had only met Naples twice before the crime boss was gunned down. The first time he met Naples, Chance said, was in the office of Bruce Zoldan, the fireworks magnate whom Policy represented.
And the second time he met Naples?
Chance testified it was in the office of Carmen Policy.