LPG NOTORIOUS
Life in fast lane of most recognizable Giants fan from team charity events to road games to... yeah that court case
Behold Joseph Ruback, the ubiquitous superfan of the New York Giants. He is positioned in shallow left field at Palisades Credit Union Park in Pomona, N.Y., and moves among members of his favorite team as shadows lengthen near nightfall. His right leg bears three tattoos. One is a blue “ny” logo. The second is a New York license plate with “G1ANTS” pounded into it. The third is a Lombardi Trophy. Long golden locks flow past his shoulders, and cover the “LPG” that holds the place where a surname usually appears on a jersey. The initials stand for “License Plate Guy,” the alter ego he assumes when hanging a ladder of 75 license plates — all with a Giants reference, like “TWO4ELI,” “18END1” and “LVGMEN” — from his neck. Typically he is seen tailgating, but this is the offseason, in June. He is overseeing a dodgeball game between current Giants and the Super Bowl XLII and XLVI champions at safety Landon Collins’ charity event. Long snapper Zak DeOssie points to Ruback as the rubber match starts. DeOssie dubs Ruback, the night’s organizer, as chief arbiter.
“If Joe says you’re out, you’re out, OK?” DeOssie says.
Balls fly; heads swivel. One by one, Ruback rules players out. Former safety Antrel Rolle gets drilled; retired cornerback Corey Webster dominates. The champs win once more. Ruback revels in what he considers his Candy Land. It is a coming out party of sorts after a year of legal wrangling. He is 48, a physical education coordinator at Biondi School in the Bronx and fresh off beating a felony rap as an accused loan shark in nearby New City. In 2015, allegations against Ruback drew the interest of the Rockland County District Attorney’s Organized Crime Unit. Ruback was charged with grand larceny for allegedly using intimidation to collect debts. Ruback still smarts over it, and insists prosecutors believed he was employing Giants as muscle. The case is now sealed after an agreement was reached out of court. He holds a microphone in his right hand on field; both sides of the law are present. To his left is Joseph Gannascoli, an actor known for his portrayal of Vito Spatafore in “The Sopranos.” He is the first base umpire. For the national anthem, the color guard is from the Rockland County Sheriff’s Office Corrections Division. Chris Canty, a former Giant, takes the measure of Ruback as he hustles around.
“A little quirky,” Canty says. “He’s screaming at games with all those license plates and you’re like, ‘This guy’s a little weird.’ He’s over the top, a superfan, but you get to know him, man, he is a sweetheart of a guy. He wants to do anything he can to help. He invests time, gains trust and just does a great job connecting dots.”
No fan is better connected than Ruback. Rich Seubert, the former guard, says Ruback “bled blue like us.” Collins, a Pro Bowl safety, knows where to find him in opposing stadiums: “There he is, front row, every week.” Ruback performs a ritual handshake with Collins on the sideline prior to each game, and he holds a distinct position in the New York sports scene. Ruback owns four season tickets, travels to all eight of the team’s road games and boasts uncommon access to players. This is his 17th season attending all 16 contests — plus playoffs, when the Giants qualify. In between plays, Ruback is catnip for cameramen searching for reactions. In his house, he keeps two Super Bowl rings, of which, he says, “Don’t ask where I got them. They’re real. Not the ones you order online.” A red 2001 Corvette in his garage bears the plate “13Whip.” It is an ode to Odell Beckham Jr. and his touchdown dance. Fellow fans seek Ruback’s autograph and ask for selfies with him. Children dress up as him for Halloween by hanging plastic plates from their necks. One fan, Dan Quinn, requested that Ruback sign his leg. Quinn told Ruback he would make a tattoo of it. Quinn followed through, inking a New Jersey plate with “LPGJoe” around the name. Fans, from Alaska to Florida, send him license plates to add to his collection.
“He’s around everybody,” Collins says. “He’s going to be there forever, win, lose or draw.”
There is no better display of Ruback’s reach than the charity event. He was with Collins at the Pro Bowl in Orlando last winter when he broached the idea of putting on a game. Collins agreed to headline it, and Ruback worked on the
rosters. The night’s lineup features 40 former Giants. Quarterback Eli Manning is present with his wife, Abby, and former wideouts, Plaxico Burress, Mario Manningham and David Tyree. Team security chief Mike Murphy carries a beach chair. It is a full-blown reunion. In the outfield, a familiar face appears on the video board. It is Tom Coughlin, now in Jaguars garb. His charity, The Jay Fund, is to benefit from the gate. As formal as ever, Coughlin apologizes for not being able to be in attendance.
“Are you ready for some softball?” Ruback says into the microphone after Coughlin’s address is over. “I can’t hear you!”
Applause comes. Ruback takes the mound. He moonlights locally as “Hit Doc,” helping youth players with their swings, but he lofts softball pitches now, allowing the Giants to load the bases before getting out of the first frame. The play-byplay announcer, Seth Cantor, calls Ruback over for an interview between innings. Cantor asks a question that many have wondered since charges were dropped against Ruback in the larceny case. After nearly a year of court proceedings, the plaintiff, Barry Dorfman, an insurance salesman, demanded that prosecutors stop pursuing the case last October.
“Nice job there by License Plate Guy getting out of a jam,” Cantor says.
“Joe, what was the key?”
“Free Plax,” is stitched in red atop the front of a white No. 17 Giants jersey that Ruback has framed on the wall in his man cave. It is a relic of support for Burress during his incarceration after he pleaded guilty to an attempted weapons possession charge. On the ceiling, above the staircase, is a mural of Tyree making his helmet catch during Super Bowl XLII. A white pillow, on the couch, features a heatpressed photo of Chase Blackburn intercepting a pass in Super Bowl XLVI. Among the memorabilia is a credential. It reads: “NEW YORK GIANTS FAMILY PASS.” Next to it, the 2007 Giants are captured in a team photo. One extra is sitting in the front row, last seat on the right. It is Ruback. He Photoshopped himself in as No. 1 in white. He sits in front of tailback Ahmad Bradshaw and next to Danny Ware.
“Chase Blackburn always reminds me that I am not a player and that I didn’t play,” Ruback says. “Chase reminds me all the time.”
Evidence of a past life on field exists. An old newspaper clipping in the laundry room outlines his exploits. The headline reads, “Tigers’ Ruback shines in the shadows.” He is listed at 5-foot-8 and 147 pounds as a senior co-captain for Spring Valley (N.Y.) High. His head shot shows shorter, darker hair. At 9 years old, he was a center and nose guard. At 17, he was a center and nose guard. He recounts a conversation he had with the head coach, Percy Boykin, prior to senior year.
“I had hands. I could catch anything,” Ruback says. “I said, ‘I don’t care what you say, I am not playing line this year.’ He said, ‘No worries. You can sit on the bench all year.’ First day of double sessions, I was snapping the ball.”
His fellow linemen tipped the scales at 280, 300, 285 and 265 pounds. The guards helped Ruback, a Lilliputian, by interlocking legs on offense. On defense, linebacker Yves Senate tapped Ruback on the hip to alert him. If Ruback felt Senate’s hand on his right hip, Ruback knew to go left in order to take the center out of the picture so Senate could rush right in to the quarterback. It was called “Cross 51.”
“I looked at it this way: I might not be able to move them, but I’ll block anyone for a few seconds,” Ruback says. “It was to my advantage. I was through every gap. Everybody lost sight of me. I felt like Joe Morris of the defense.”
Kenneth Smith, a former teammate, remembers Ruback’s resourcefulness.
“One word: tenacious,” Smith says. “You would see little Joey Ruback and ask, ‘What is this guy doing here?’ He’s the Chihuahua barking at your leg all game.”
Ruback’s vigor is renowned, no matter the contest. To start his college career, he suited up for Western Connecticut in football. He then transferred to Cortland, where he played baseball. The Giants occupied his thoughts away from his teams. One day in 1987, Ruback wrote a letter to John Costacos, who, along with his brother, Tock, was in the second year of operating a poster business in Seattle. The idea was to take pro athletes and “make superheroes, Gladiators out of them,” per John. Ruback wrote to the brothers that his Lawrence Taylor poster — “The Terminator” — was ruined by his roommate. He pleaded poverty due to his college student status, and Costacos sent him a replacement, as well as a Carl Banks poster.
“He became my best friend,” John says. “We talked two, three times a week for three years. I valued his input. He has an engine in him that has never been in neutral. I loved this guy, this crazy, energetic, precocious Giants fan.”
Ruback never really left the game. He returned to the sidelines at Spring Valley, first with the junior varsity. At 26, he was named head coach of the varsity. The team did not win a league game the previous season, but he turned the program around quickly. He was also credited with a tackle off the field. Around 1:30 one morning, Ruback took Tiger, his St. Bernard, for a walk around his block in Monsey, N.Y. Ruback eyed a stranger looking at cars, and went back to his house. When the stranger reached Ruback’s truck, which had a passengerside window slightly open, the man entered it. Ruback rushed out, chased him and tackled him.
“Beat the s--t out of him until the cops came,” Ruback says.
Ruback was celebrated as a crime stopper by Ramapo’s town supervisor, and his run of good fortune continued. He dressed conservatively, wearing a shirt and tie for games, but reminders of his flair were never far. When the Tigers started 7-0 in 1997, his second year, he had the record shaved into the back of his head. Momentum built, but one cloud loomed. Earlier in the campaign, his father, Charles, a salesman, had been informed that he had to undergo quadruple bypass heart surgery. Charles told his doctor that he needed to hold off due to his son’s games.
“The doctor thought I was crazy,” Charles says. “I wasn’t missing a minute.”
The surgery was postponed for months as the Tigers averaged 307 yards per game on the ground. Phil Bogle, a 325-pound offensive tackle bound for Syracuse and the NFL, led the way. The Tigers went 10-0 before falling against Troy in the state Class AA semifinals. Ruback keeps game balls encased in glass in his basement. There is an award that links his two football worlds, too. It features a Giants helmet in the left corner and the NFL shield in the right. It is a “1997 Coach of the Week” certificate signed by NFL Commissioner Paul Tagliabue and Giants coach Jim Fassel. It marks a turning point in Ruback’s life. He announced that he was leaving coaching after the season ended. He sought to pursue a graduate degree and get married.
“I didn’t want to be one of those guys who was their high school alma mater coach, spend their life on the field,” he says. “The Giants were the most important thing to me, and look at me now.”
He eyes his ceiling. There are signatures of Giants who have come by his house. Retired tailback Brandon Jacobs put his name, No. 27 and 2X SB Champs in black marker. Collins put “Pro Bowl Year ’17 more to come.” Ruback slips on a blue hat that a fan sent. It features a New York license plate that reads: “INNOCENT.”
“If somebody buys this house, I’m cutting that sheet rock,” he says. “It will be ceiling-less.”
The J.C. Penney in the Palisades Center is closing. So say the signs in the storefront windows.
“NOTHING HELD BACK!” reads one.
“ENTIRE STORE ON SALE!” reads another.
“EVERYTHING MUST GO!” reads a third.
It is a Friday in July. Ruback parks
his gray Mercedes Benz — the one with the “G1ANTS” plate — in a lot on the north side of the mall. He makes his way up to the food court in Giants garb. It is a month after the Collins event. He remains on a high, touting how many Giants came to the game and the $30,000 raised for The Jay Fund, which promised to use the money for families fighting cancer in New York and New Jersey. He looks around the mall. He lives a few miles away, and reflects on a low point that occurred on site. To Ruback, J.C. Penney is an old crime scene. In 1998, he had given up the coaching reins by the time he went to the store one day. His former Spring Valley quarterback, Mark Paisley, then 19, was working as the cashier.
“He said, ‘Coach, your money is no good here,’” Ruback says. “I said, ‘Psshhhh, you da man.’ Pretty dumb. My problem is I went back a second time. He was hooking up everybody and then some. That I regret more than anything else in my life.”
Ruback was booked on July 1, 1998, and he was indicted on fourth-degree grand larceny two and a half months later. He pleaded guilty, and completed 210 hours of community service. He was on probation when he happened upon another crime in progress at Marty’s Sporting Center in Nanuet. On Oct. 13, 1999, Ruback assisted in chasing down suspects during a robbery. Ruback and the storeowner were walking to the shop’s warehouse when they saw a few youths running away with merchandise in their hands. One dropped a backpack that was used as evidence. Ruback and Rudolph called the cops. A headline in The Journal News read: “Ex-football coach, on probation in theft, helps foil break-in.”
Ruback’s record goes quiet for more than a decade after that probation period, but there is one more case in his legal ledger. On March 7, 2014, he filed a civil lawsuit against Barry Dorfman. In the complaint, Ruback asserts that he gave an $81,000 loan, documented in a promissory note, to Dorfman. The initial payment was for $3,000 and that was to be repeated for the next 27 months. Ruback said Dorfman paid the first month, and then fell off. Dorfman denied ever receiving the $81,000. He also maintained that the note was signed “under duress and coercion.”
A Clarkstown Police report obtained by the News from a Freedom of Information Act filing includes a complaint from Dorfman’s wife, Michelle. On Jan. 24, 2013, around 8:30 p.m., she contacted the police and reported a threat made to Barry. Michelle stated that for years her husband borrowed large amounts of money from friends and family in order to pay other debts owed to loan sharks. An hour earlier, she had received a call from Barry. He told her she had to leave the house because loan sharks had threatened to “bust his head wide open.” The police report noted that Michelle advised that they were in the middle of a divorce and that their house was in the process of foreclosure. She stated that she was “extremely fearful” for her family’s safety. She would be staying at her sister’s house.
According to the report, Barry explained that a few years earlier, he was introduced to a person who could loan him money. The report says that it was “New City resident Joseph Rubeck.” Dorfman said Ruback loaned him money on several occasions. He added that he was “paying Joseph $3,000 a month but has missed the last three payments causing Joseph Rubeck to state to him that he had sold their note to guys in the city for .60 cents on the dollar.”
Dorfman told two detectives that he had received a call from a payment collector. The man was known to Dorfman only as “Hector.” Dorfman told police that he had made payments to “Hector” at the New City Dunkin’ Donuts, but he was told he would give him a different location the next day.
Ruback was not arrested until more than a year later, on Dec. 17, 2015. He was handcuffed at his house and booked at 6:30 a.m. He was charged with grand larceny in the fourth degree, a class E felony, and he says a cop told him, “Guess you won’t be making the next game.” Ruback posted the $2,000 bail, and Rockland County District Attorney Thomas P. Zugibe released a statement with the headline: “New York Giants Superfan ‘License Plate Guy’ charged with extortion.” The Giants released a statement saying the organization was “obviously disturbed by these allegations and have made our staff and players aware of them.”
Ruback did not miss a game. The Giants hosted Carolina that Sunday, and he was there. The team traveled to Minnesota the following week. There was Ruback, feting from the front row in 13-degree weather. Eli Manning threw three interceptions. The Giants lost, 49-17. Ruback drove home rather than wait for a delayed flight.
“Disgusting weekend, bro,” he says. “Most disgusting of my life.”
Ruback made multiple court appearances. On Oct. 13, 2016, the district attorney announced that Ruback’s case had been resolved. The court issued an Adjournment in Contemplation of Dismissal, or ACD. It required that Ruback avoid new arrests for six months before the dismissal and sealing of his case. According to the district attorney, Dorfman, without the knowledge of prosecutors, signed an agreement with Ruback in exchange for $5,000 restitution. Ruback also dropped his civil lawsuit. The District Attorney was ready to prosecute Ruback fully, but noted that Dorfman “demanded the dismissal of criminal charges against Ruback.”
“Dude, he borrowed money from me,” Ruback says. “I’m not Bernie Madoff. My whole life was turned upside down.”
Ruback asserts that the government pursued its case because of his “pseudo celebrity.” There is one benefit that Ruback cites as he heads out of the mall.
“I’m not a gambler, nor a loan shark,” he says. “But my street cred? There’s a pizza place that I don’t even pay for pizza when I go in there now.”
“Nobody sits here,” Ruback says as he walks down the aisle in section C136 at AT&T Stadium in Arlington, Tex. He is fresh off strolling the sideline during warmups for the season opener against the Cowboys and embracing linebacker Jonathan Casillas, a captain, in the end zone. His routine is in midseason form, having arrived in the parking lot hours ahead of kickoff. His seat is a folding chair on a platform extended from the stands behind the Giants bench. Ruback declines to say how much it cost him.
“It’s f---ing stupid money,” he says. “I spent a few years until I said, ‘Holy s--t, why am I not sitting front row?’ A lot of times, I know when a player is concussed before they announce it. I’ve got a lot of inside info I hardly ever put out.”
He shouts “Hey girls!” to general manager Jerry Reese’s family and notes his plans for
afterward. Ruback’s travel party is six for this game.
“We go on the field,” he says. “We dance on the star when we win. If we lose, I have no interest in going on, but I will anyway.”
It is a long way from section 336 in Giants Stadium. That is where his father, Charles, had tickets. The family also had tickets in section 137. Charles is 85 and resides in Florida now. He went to his first game in 1943, paying 55 cents to get into the Polo Grounds bleachers. He dared Joseph to wear his “G1ANTS” plate around his neck at a game when he was 16, and relishes his son’s rise through the fanatic ranks. Joseph has sat in the front row at all road games for a decade. The streak commenced in the 2007 Super Bowl year. Blackburn’s first thought when he saw Ruback was: “He looks like Fabio.” Jacobs recalls taking notice, as well.
“I started to wonder, ‘What does this guy do for a living to afford these tickets and fly all over?’” says Jacobs, who has traveled with Ruback to Las Vegas.
Jacobs, Blackburn and others have visited Biondi, the special-needs school in Yonkers where Ruback served as athletic director, to speak to students. Ruback’s old principal, Dr. George Cancro, considers Ruback a “stabilizing force and positive influence.” Ruback now works with Biondi’s elementary school in the Bronx since the loan shark allegations.
“Joe just looks for adventure wherever he is,” says Blackburn, who hosts Ruback at his Ohio home each Fourth of July. “The kids respond to his passion.”
Family members are along for the ride, as well. Ruback met his second wife, Sarah, at a Yankee game, while already in the midst of the Giants streak. He calls that period “midinsanity.” His daughter, Isabella, is 14. She attends games, and wears a blue T-shirt emblazoned: “Like father, like daughter.”
Ruback now owns seats in sections 144 and 149 at MetLife Stadium. He paid $20,000 for two Personal Seat Licenses in 144, and added the 149 seats later. He points out that he never sits in them. Instead, he sells the tickets in order to help finance his travels. Costs rise come playoff time. He paid $12,000 to sit front row at the 50-yard line for the NFC Championship game Candlestick Park in 2012. Two weeks later, he celebrated the Super Bowl win on field as confetti fell.
“I don’t know why everyone thinks you need millions of dollars to do what I do,” he says. “You don’t.”
Dallas is his favorite trip. Still, his mind wanders. He is already talking about his upcoming journey down Interstate 95 in Week 3. In Philadelphia, he wears his favorite jersey. It is Eagles green on the back. Where the surname should be, he has stitched in “Super Bowls.” No. 0 is stitched beneath that to show that the Eagles have never won the big game. Bogle, his Spring Valley star, is the general manager of the Philadelphia Soul in the Arena Football League. He stands with Ruback.
“They call me The Wrestler, Farah Fawcett, Thor — which I love and have no problem with,” Ruback says.
One of Ruback’s license plates reads: “H8Dallas.” He watches as the Cowboys kick a pair of field goals before quarterback Dak Prescott finds tight end Jason Witten for a touchdown. Dallas wins, 19-3. Ruback idles as 93,183 fans exit. He possesses a pass that allows him on field. There he is for the next hour, long snapping and punting. He sets his legs wide like a center and snaps the ball.
“Still got it,” Ruback says.
A New Jersey State Police helicopter circles above the Meadowlands on the Sunday that the Cowboys come to town in December. Red and blue lights flash from an ambulance truck that was converted by Giants fans into a team vehicle replete with a goal post on top. It is in Lot L6. Ruback is decked out in Manning regalia. He reflects on the road to ruin, from Dallas to Philadelphia to Tampa Bay to Denver to San Francisco to Washington to Oakland to 2-10. He bore witness to it all. Coach Ben McAdoo and Reese were dismissed. The tire fire at Exit 16W continues to burn.
“Disarray causes what we are in now,” Ruback says. “It is literally terrible.”
Women with blue lipstick kiss his cheeks. He hands out a dozen passes to get friends on the visitors’ sideline for pre-game warmups. There is a law presence, as well. A New York State Trooper, who is dressed in a Mark Bavaro jersey, approaches Ruback, and hands him a New York license plate. It reads: “FDEMBZ.”
Ruback celebrates the latest plate by holding it up for all to see. He transitions to hurryup mode to rally eight friends before entering the stadium at 11 a.m. One friend of a friend wears Aviator shades, a fur coat and matching fur hat.
“Who am I going in with today, Frank Lucas?” Ruback says, referring to the flamboyant Harlem gangster.
There are hugs for the security guard at the stadium entrance. Fans chant “LPG! LPG!” as they look down from the stands to him on the sideline. A cop, off duty, taps Ruback and tells him he has a gift for him. It is an official uniform patch that says “EAST RUTHERFORD POLICE” above “Home of the Giants.” “We follow you,” the cop says. Ruback thanks him. A few yards away, Ruback shouts to Cowboys owner Jerry Jones, “I don’t like ya, but I respect ya.” Jones turns around and says, “Thank you.” Ruback hands out business cards these days that are holograms. They feature three license plates with his name on them. He notes that his preferred means of business is to barter and build off relationships. Fans often come to him for advice. One kid asks where he should stand to get an autograph on the crowded sideline.
“Just wiggle your way in there,” Ruback says.
Ruback performs his handshake with Collins and retreats to a seat in section 208. The high point of his day comes when the Cowboys line up for a field goal. “He’s gonna miss this,” Ruback says. Kicker Dan Bailey’s 53-yard attempt hits the goal post and falls short. “Doink!” Ruback says. “Call Vegas!” says his friend, Michael Stathakis.
Ruback insists he is not a betting man, but he knows how to weigh risk. He tells about a previous softball charity event, in 2015, also in Pomona. Ruback was at the plate. Beckham Jr. was on the mound, and fired an overhand pitch prior to the game. Ruback did not swing, but says he could have hit it easily. He says he held back because he didn’t want to chance rocketing the ball back at Beckham Jr.
“I could just see a nice little line drive up the middle hit one of the Giants, and you would never see me again,” Ruback says. “I would have moved to Antarctica and left my plates behind.”