Showing posts with label Baseball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Baseball. Show all posts

Friday, May 20, 2011

Yorkville Stickball Champ at 73


Catching and throwing a ball is a communion between two people. There is something deeply satisfying in sending a ball from one glove to another. You share a sixth sense with your partner and it makes you closer than you realize.

Two months ago, I spent an afternoon with Ron Weiss, a 73 year old baseball player. We walked around Yorkville and Ron showed me his playing fields from the 1940s and 1950s. It was a great trip through the neighborhood's past.

Our Town and The Westside Spirit ran my "City Stories: Stoops to Nuts,"column on Ron today.

Pictures below: Ron in 1949 on 82nd Street between 2nd & 3rd Avenue. Below that is Ron in same spot on 82nd Street in 2011. Third picture is Ron sliding in Central Park in 1949.

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Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Yankee Popcorn Megaphone

Last night, my friend, Zack Hample, had a book release party at Bergino Baseball Clubhouse on@ 67 East 11th Street. A cool space built with love by Jay Goldberg. http://www.bergino.com/

Zack's new book, "The Baseball," is a love letter to and on the sphere that is embedded into American culture. Zack's book is terrific and will satisfy the curiosity of demanding baseball fanatics and average fans who might say, "it's a baseball, what's all the fuss over?" Listen to Zack tell and you'll get it.

I'd never been in the space, Jay's built a sweet little baseball museum. My eyes kept coming back to one thing, the New York Yankee Popcorn Megaphone you see in the two pictures here. I love seeing something I so completely forgotten, that seeing it again I need to move furniture back into that part of brain and the memories flew in.

1965, I was 11, my brother, Rory, 9. Dad had two company tickets to a mid-week game between the Yankees and the Los Angeles Angels (they changed Los Angeles to Anaheim in September that year). The yellow paper tickets in my hands were for Barber Shipping Lines box seats just a few rows behind the Yankee dugout. I remember thinking, "Jesus, please don't let it rain!" The back of the ticket said no rain check so when Dad had company tickets you got one shot at using them. Dad was overprotective but this day he gave me a speech about watching out for my brother at all times, and he sent us with a buck each up to the 86th Street subway station. Mom protested and Dad said, "Patty, you've got to be kidding, we were on the subway when we were 8!"

Rory couldn't wait to buy food with his dollar, I planned to get a program (brought my own pencil) and a New York Yankee Popcorn/Megaphone. When Rory saw the item filled with popcorn he said he wanted one too, so we both had them. After you ate the popcorn you popped the bottom out and had a megaphone.

Half way into the game Rory got an itchy ass and we started walking from one foul pole to the other, after doing this four or five times, we came back to our seats. I told Rory it was important to properly boo the opposition.

"What do mean?"
I positioned the megaphone by my lips and let out the deepest and longest cow moo adding in the B at the mid point.
"MoooooooooooBoooooooooooooo!!!"
Then I told Rory, "You try."
"MoooBooooMoooo!!"
"No, no, no, don't bring the M back. Stick with the ooooo after you bring the B in."
"MoooooooooooBoooooooooooooo!!!"
"Perfect!"

Then we drove the fans around us nuts for the last few innings, and later did same to the other passengers on the #4 subway ride home.