The King and His Court

“I just feel like I’m one of the locals,” Dennis Rodman said, relating what he enjoys most about the Orange County club scene, one he’ll disappear from once training starts this month and he’s outta here. “Some people are [jerks], but you just deal with it.”

Basketball’s bad boy, who spends summers in Newport Beach, hasn’t signed with the Chicago Bulls or anybody yet. But friends threw him a going-away party Friday at Twin Palms, one of many spots habituated by the county’s most celebrated club crawler. His fave? The Sandpiper in Laguna Beach.

“It’s a locals dive bar,” said the Worm, who’ll be back this way next summer. “I just go and chill.”

Friday’s crowd wasn’t chilling, though Rodman’s Newport friends lent the festive send-off a hometown feel.

“He’s just a normal guy, a grown-up kid,” said a pal who wouldn’t give her name. “I come home and he’s on my telephone or sitting on the counter, eating a banana.”

Some party-goers, however, had planed in from as far as Florida just for this and a second well-publicized local Rodman fe^te, held at Anaheim’s Cowboy Boogie on Sunday. Meanwhile, four Newport Beach cops policed the venue, “just to make sure nothing happens,” and little girls, up way past their bedtime, clutched paper place mats in hopes of snagging an autograph.

“He’s cool,” 7-year-old Stephanie Restaino said, explaining why she was willing to wait inside the restaurant-club for about three hours.

On Fridays, the excitement at Twin Palms usually centers on Club One, and the buffed and beautiful who show up for that enjoy an expanded dance floor and live music by the funky Groove Society. The weekly gig, organized by local club mavens John Joyce, Altan Aksu, Phil Ray, Gavin Hoey and Billy Stade (who helped Rodman’s friends, Floyd Raglin and T.J. Carlini, organize the party), also features recorded sounds spun by top local deejays Beej and Roly.

But last weekend, the real action, or perhaps the word is mania, was taking place by the club’s entrance and nearby VIP room, where, by 10 p.m., frenzied Rodman followers had started aggregating about 90 minutes before he arrived.

Those deprived of the coveted blue wristbands allowing entry into the dark, cramped VIP alcove desperately worked connections to gain access, and Newport went Hollywood as photographers (growing edgy about the boisterous, fame-struck crowd) plotted their best vantage points.

As his arrival grew closer, Rodman was on the cell phone with Raglin. When would he be here, impatient guests queried. Twenty to 30 minutes, Raglin said. Where is he? Eating at Josh Slocum’s in Newport. The minutes snailed by, and tension mounted as the jostling crowd ballooned apace.

Fifty to 60 minutes later, Raglin fought his way to Rodman’s agent, Dwight Manley. “He’s on his way; he just called from the car,” Raglin said. What’s he driving, Manley wanted to know, the white Mercedes? “The white Mercedes,” Raglin said.

Gliding past 150 line-waiters in a custom crushed green velvet long coat and matching pants, a long scarf tied around his neck, the NBA’s six-time rebound champ finally hit the wall of photogs and shoving fans waiting inside.

“The Worm Man!” one shouted. “Back up! Back up!” somebody yelled.

I’m positive I’m not the only one who nearly got some ribs bruised in the sudden crush that Rodman’s bodyguards had to forge to get their man to safety.

Once settled inside the VIP room, the still-sunglassed sports nova, his diaphanous blouse completely unbuttoned, held court for about 20 minutes. Before moving off to work the room and dance, Rodman offered his lap for the myriad scantily clad female admirers, hugs for friends and answers for a reporter.

He’s going to miss the weather and the ocean, he said, but not a certain faction of the local club scene.

“You know, you got your cool crowd, your wannabe crowd and your ain’t-[expletive] crowd,” he said, puffing on a cigar. Chuckling, he added that the real color of his hair, tinted blond for the evening, is black. “I hope.”

BE THERE

Club One, Twin Palms, 630 Newport Center Drive, Newport Beach. (714) 721-8288. 11 p.m. Fridays. Cover: $7. On Saturday, Twin Palms hosts Platinum Lounge. Doors open at 9:30 p.m. Cover: $10.