By By Tim Keown, ESPN The Magazine

Monday, February 3, 2003

This address can't be right. 1616? Can't be. There are numbered mail slots inside the locked plate-glass door, and there it is, four black letters -- ZITO. Hard to believe, but 1616 it is. The three-story complex is a couple of blocks off Sunset, in Hollywood, on the side of town where the not-yet screenwriters wait tables to make rent. There's a guy storming the sidewalk with his clumpy, matted hair bouncing behind him, muttering 12-letter epithets while rooting through garbage cans. Languages ...

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