Dateline Ten Mile River 1968, "Now Pitching For the Yankees, Rocky Colavito."

Rocky in outfield @ old Stadium
@ 1968 by Gerard Murphy

"I need a Yodel."
"I need a Yankee Doodle."

"I need a rock to throw at your head. Shut up, I'm trying to listen to the Yankee game." I said to Joe Menesick and Jamie Peters, while holding the transistor to my ear, desperately moving the radio around to pick up Phil Rizzuto's voice on an AM station far away in the Bronx. 

Joe Menesick front of 403 E 83rd St. 68

Joe M. Sr. Dennis M, Ed Hauser

 & Artie Betz @Pouch camp 68

We were in Ten Mile River Scout Camp in Narrowsburg, New York. Troop 654, from Yorkville, Manhattan. After one week going on two weeks, we were all sick of the camp's steamed food. When we cooked, we screwed it up. We craved Hostess and Drakes Cakes. One kid said, "I Want a Funny Bone!" The cake with the peanut butter vomit in it.

Someone threw something at him.
"Good."

I thought the guy who invented Funny Bones was the same guy who invented the soda called Wink with the grapefruit pulp in it. Yeah, he must have said, "kids love fruit pulp in their sodas, and I'm going to shove a load of tart pulp in there."

Remarkably, one of my childhood heroes, Rocky Colavito, the smooth slugger who resembled my Dad was pitching for the Yankees against the Tigers at the old Stadium. "The Rock," four home runs in one game was on the mound, it was August 25, 1968. Less than three months to The Beatles "White Album" release. In eleven months, we'd be on the moon, then Woodstock would rock, and the first Giant vs. Jet exhibition game would take place at the Yale Bowl.

With my free hand, I scratched the countless mosquito bites on my legs and butt, then I heard, "Dobson lines a one bouncer to Horace "No Double Play" Clarke, Clarke handles the ball cleanly and fires a strike to Mickey Mantle on first. Heeeee's Out!" Naaaa, the radio voice was fuzzy but I did hear Clarke throw the ball to Mantle and that Colavito was out of the inning with no runs, leaving two men on base.

Yankees were down 5-1, going into the bottom of the sixth, Joe, Jamie and I were supposed to be policing the camp site and working on some kind of Scout merit badge. I had already achieved my badge limit of three, Cooking and Hiking and whatever it's called for using a map properly. I earned a significant goof off period and planned on taking these two guys to hell with me before they we went home. While thinking of the next thing to anger the scout leaders the Yanks scored five runs. Rocky Colavito was the winning pitcher.

Folllowing afternoon, Joe Menesick and I, doing nothing close to nothing, decided to paddle a two man canoe to the middle of the lake to ram a war canoe full of Brooklyn scouts broadside. We congratulated ourselves on our way back to shore by guessing our punishment. Joe's guess won. A formal invitation to the Camp's Scout Master quarters before breakfast the next morning.

Charlie Liska, Ed Hauser Artie Betz

If you enjoy my work, check out my memoir, "I Hate the Dallas Cowboys - tales of a scrappy New York boyhood." It's available at Logos Bookstore, 1575 York Avenue, or buy it online at Amazon, Barnes and Noble or other booksellers. The book has 135 five star reviews out of 135 total reviews on Amazon. If you do read it, please leave a few honest words about the book on Amazon and B&N.
Thank you!

Rocky Colavito Batting Practice Wake-up Call

56 years ago in May...

Sitting on the 500 East 86th Street stoop itching my ass next to Leda Pharmacy, I hopped off to greet my father coming home from work on the crosstown bus.

"Come on, Dad, Lets' go."

It was five forty-five on May 24, 1965. Late spring, warm enough in the evening, to sit in the stands wearing only a sweatshirt.
The previous Saturday night, Dad and I watched a Yankee game on our tenement roof using every extension cord in the house.
"You're both nuts," Mom said to Dad's ass as he climbed out our fourth floor window onto the fire escape with the cords. Once we settled in on the roof with kitchen chairs, a card table for the TV and a spaghetti pot full of ice, beer and ice tea,




Dad said to me, "

We got to get up to the Stadium for a game before they go on the road."

The game start was 8pm.

Dad called Mom, who was not thrilled, it was a school night, and he and I jumped into a Checker cab in front of the Mansion Diner and shot up the FDR. At the Stadium, Dad bought lower box reserved seats in section 17, half way between the Yankee dugout and the right field foul pole. I still have the stub.




Dad wrote in the line-ups while I bounced my eyes around the mostly empty ballpark. I smelled cigars, peanuts, and freshly cut grass. This was when I liked the old Stadium best. Just the ballplayers on the field and us, real fans, in the stands. You practically had a whole section to yourself, if you didn't count the hundred kids assembled in right or left field waiting anxiously for imminent home runs, depending on whether the batter was left handed or right handed. The gaggle of kids would travel all away around the ballpark to the other side of the field to get in position for a lefty or righty during batting practice. Watching them run was like a Peanuts cartoon soccer game. Dad wasn't nuts about me being in that group yet,"when you're a little older," he wouldn't let me go by myself, and hated flying around with me, "Let's stay here, this way, if the ball comes this way, you'll have it all to yourself."

There was no sense arguing with the man, so I focused on the good. With so few people around us, I could hear the ballplayers yell at each other as they played pepper and threw it around the outfield. I got an idea who like each other, and who tortured each other.



The Indians were finishing their batting practice. Leon Wagner, a lefty, pounded three pitches into the right field stands. My heart dropped missing the action. I knew the home run derby was going to continue in left field. Rocky Colavito was coming around the cage to take his at bat.

I mumbled, "Why'd I bring my glove," and slumped in my chair.
Dad looked over at me."Tommy, I did the Indians. Why don't you do the Yankee lineup?"

When I reached for the program, I heard solid bat contact, then Dad took my head and pulled it towards his chest hard.

"Thwack!"

I turned and saw a broken slat on the top of my chair. Colavito had sliced a foul that split my wooden seat. Dad and I stared at it forever, then I began looking for the piece of wood that broke off, a valuable souvenir, Dad grabbed me, picked up our things and we headed out to the right field box seats.

All future batting practices were viewed in the bleachers, outfield or behind the plate. Colavito already a secret Non-Yankee hero of mine ~ he hit four homers in a game in 1959 and looked like my Dad ~ became my favorite all time non-Yankee player.






Stottlemyre pitched well ~ went the distance. Tresh & Pepitone hit homers. Yankees won 15-5.

Rocky Colavito at Ten Mile River

Rocky in outfield @ old Stadium @ 1968 by Gerard Murphy

"I need a Yodel."
"I need a Yankee Doodle"

"I need a rock to throw at your head. Shut up, I'm trying to listen to the Yankee game." I said to Joe Menesick and Jamie Peters, while holding the transistor to my ear, desperately moving the radio around to pick up Phil Rizzuto's voice on an AM station far away.

We were in Ten Mile River Scout Camp in Narrowsburg, New York. Troop 654, from Yorkville, Manhattan. After one week going on two weeks, we were all sick of the camp's steamed food. When we cooked, we screwed it up. We craved Hostess and Drakes Cakes. One kid said, "I Want a Funny Bone!" The cake with the peanut butter vomit in it. 

Someone threw something at him. 

Good.

I thought the guy who invented Funny Bones was the same guy who invented the soda called Wink with the grapefruit pulp in it. Yeah, he must have said, "kids love fruit pulp in their sodas, and I'm going to shove a load of pulp in there."

Remarkably, one of my childhood heroes, Rocky Colavito, the smooth slugger who resembled my Dad was pitching for the Yankees against the Tigers at the old Stadium. "The Rock," four home runs in one game was on the mound, it was August 25, 1968. Less than three months to The Beatles "White Album" release. In eleven months, we'd be on the moon, then Woodstock would rock, and the first Giant vs. Jet exhibition game would take place at the Yale Bowl.

With my free hand, I scratched the countless mosquito bites on my legs and butt, then I heard, "Dobson lines a one bouncer to Horace "No Double Play" Clarke, Clarke handles the ball cleanly and fires a strike to Mickey Mantle on first. Heeeee's Out!" Naaaa, the radio voice was fuzzy but I did hear Clarke throw the ball to Mantle and that Colavito was out of the inning with no runs, leaving two men on base.

Yankees were down 5-1, going into the bottom of the sixth, Joe, Jamie and I were supposed to be policing the camp site and working on some kind of Scout merit badge. I had already achieved my badge limit of three, Cooking and Hiking and whatever it's called for using a map properly. I earned a significant goof off period and planned on taking these two guys to hell with me before they we went home. While thinking of the next thing to anger the scout leaders the Yanks scored five runs. Rocky Colavito was the winning pitcher.

Folllowing afternoon, Joe Menesick and I, doing nothing close to nothing, decided to paddle a two man canoe to the middle of the lake to ram a war canoe full of Brooklyn scouts broadside.  We congratulated ourselves on our way back to shore by guessing our punishment. Joe's guess won. A formal invitation to the Camp's Scout Master quarters before breakfast the next morning.

Mark your calendar! June 17!

"Stoops to Nuts Pre-Father's Day Show"
@Ryans Daughter, 350 E. 85 St.
@Friday, June 17th @ 7pm-11pm
special guests: Colin Dempsey, Joe Dettmore, Nicole Ferraro, Andy McGillicuddy, Tim McGillicuddy and Una McGillicuddy and mucho more.

If you enjoy my work, check out my memoir, "I Hate the Dallas Cowboys - tales of a scrappy New York boyhood." It's available at Logos Bookstore, 1575 York Avenue, or buy it online at Amazon, Barnes and Noble or other booksellers. The book has 117 five star reviews out of 117 total reviews on Amazon. If you do read it, please leave a few honest words about the book on Amazon and B&N. 

Thank you!

Keep Your Eye On The Ball (Especially When Colavito's Up)

May reminds me of going up to Yankee Stadium early for a night game to watch batting practice. I ran up to my father coming home from work as he got off the crosstown bus at 86th Street & York Avenue.

"Come on, Dad, Lets' go."

It was five forty five on May 24, 1965. Late spring, when it began being warm enough in the evening to sit in the stands wearing just a sweatshirt.

The previous Saturday night, Dad and I watched a Yankee game on our tenement roof using every extension cord in the house. "You're both nuts," Mom said to Dad's ass as he climbed out our fourth floor window onto the fire escape with the cords. Once we settled in on the roof with kitchen chairs, a card table for the TV and a spaghetti pot full of ice, beer and ice tea, Dad said to me, "We got to get up to the Stadium for a game before they go on the road." The game start was 8pm.

Dad called Mom, who was not thrilled, it was a school night, and he & I jumped into a Checker cab in front of the Mansion Diner and shot up the FDR. At the Stadium, Dad bought lower box reserved seats in section 17, half way between the Yankee dugout and the right field foul pole. I still have the stub. (See picture below)

Dad wrote in the line-ups while I bounced my eyes around the mostly empty ballpark. I smelled cigars, peanuts, and freshly cut grass. This was when I liked the old Stadium best. Just the ballplayers on the field and us, real fans, in the stands. You practically had a whole section to yourself, if you didn't count the hundred kids assembled in right or left field waiting anxiously for imminent home runs, depending on whether the batter was left handed or right handed. The gaggle of kids would travel all away around the ballpark to the other side of the field to get in position for a lefty or righty during batting practice. Watching them run was like a Peanuts cartoon soccer game. Dad wasn't nuts about me being in that group yet,"when you're a little older," he wouldn't let me go by myself, and hated flying around with me, "Let's stay here, this way, if the ball comes this way, you'll have it all to yourself."

There was no sense arguing with the man, so I focused on the good. With so few people around us, I could hear the ballplayers yell at each other as they played pepper and threw it around the outfield. I got an idea who like each other, and who tortured each other.

The Indians were finishing their batting practice. Leon Wagner, a lefty, pounded three pitches into the right field stands. My heart dropped missing the action. I knew the home run derby was going to continue in left field.Rocky Colavito was coming around the cage to take his at bat.

I mumbled, "Why'd I bring my glove," and slumped in my chair.

Dad looked over at me."Tommy, I did the Indians. Why don't you do the Yankee lineup?"

When I reached for the program, I heard solid bat contact, then Dad took my head and pulled it towards his chest hard.

"Thwack!"

I turned and saw a broken slat on the top of my chair. Colavito had sliced a foul that split my wooden seat. Dad and I stared at it forever, then I began looking for the piece of wood that broke off, a valuable souvenir, Dad grabbed me, picked up our things and we headed out to the right field box seats.

All future batting practices were viewed in the outfield or the bleachers. Colavito already a secret Non-Yankee hero of mine ~ he hit four homers in a game in 1959 and looked like my Dad ~ became my favorite all time non-Yankee player.

Yankees won 15-5, Stottlemyre pitched well and went the distance. Tom Tresh and Joe Pepitone hit homers.

Rocky Colavito Improved My Batting Practice Experience

May reminds me of going up to Yankee Stadium early for a night game to watch batting practice. I ran up to my father coming home from work as he got off the crosstown bus at 86th Street & York Avenue.

"Come on, Dad, Lets' go."

It was five forty five on May 24, 1965. Late spring, when it began being warm enough in the evening to sit in the stands wearing just a sweatshirt.

The previous Saturday night, Dad and I watched a Yankee game on our tenement roof using every extension cord in the house. "You're both nuts," Mom said to Dad's ass as he climbed out our fourth floor window onto the fire escape with the cords. Once we settled in on the roof with kitchen chairs, a card table for the TV and a spaghetti pot full of ice, beer and ice tea, Dad said to me, "We got to get up to the Stadium for a game before they go on the road." The game start was 8pm.

Dad called Mom, who was not thrilled, it was a school night, and he & I jumped into a Checker cab in front of the Mansion Diner and shot up the FDR. At the Stadium, Dad bought lower box reserved seats in section 17, half way between the Yankee dugout and the right field foul pole. I still have the stub. (See picture below)

Dad wrote in the line-ups while I bounced my eyes around the mostly empty ballpark. I smelled cigars, peanuts, and freshly cut grass. This was when I liked the old Stadium best. Just the ballplayers on the field and us, real fans, in the stands. You practically had a whole section to yourself, if you didn't count the hundred kids assembled in right or left field waiting anxiously for imminent home runs, depending on whether the batter was left handed or right handed. The gaggle of kids would travel all away around the ballpark to the other side of the field to get in position for a lefty or righty during batting practice. Watching them run was like a Peanuts cartoon soccer game. Dad wasn't nuts about me being in that group yet,"when you're a little older," he wouldn't let me go by myself, and hated flying around with me, "Let's stay here, this way, if the ball comes this way, you'll have it all to yourself."

There was no sense arguing with the man, so I focused on the good. With so few people around us, I could hear the ballplayers yell at each other as they played pepper and threw it around the outfield. I got an idea who like each other, and who tortured each other.

The Indians were finishing their batting practice. Leon Wagner, a lefty, pounded three pitches into the right field stands. My heart dropped missing the action. I knew the home run derby was going to continue in left field. Rocky Colavito was coming around the cage to take his at bat.

I mumbled, "Why'd I bring my glove," and slumped in my chair.

Dad looked over at me."Tommy, I did the Indians. Why don't you do the Yankee lineup?"

When I reached for the program, I heard solid bat contact, then Dad took my head and pulled it towards his chest hard.

"Thwack!"

I turned and saw a broken slat on the top of my chair. Colavito had sliced a foul that split my wooden seat. Dad and I stared at it forever, then I began looking for the piece of wood that broke off, a valuable souvenir, Dad grabbed me, picked up our things and we headed out to the right field box seats.

All future batting practices were viewed in the outfield or the bleachers. Colavito already a secret Non-Yankee hero of mine ~ he hit four homers in a game in 1959 and looked like my Dad ~ became my favorite all time non-Yankee player.

Yankees won 15-5, Stottlemyre pitched well and went the distance. Tom Tresh and Joe Pepitone hit homers.

Rocky Colavito Improved My Batting Practice Experience

Memorial Day week, reminds me of going up to Yankee Stadium early for a night game to watch batting practice.

"Come on, Dad, Lets' go."

I ran up to Dad as he got off the crosstown bus at 86th Street & York Avenue. It was 5:30pm on May 24, 1965. Late spring, when it began being warm enough in the evening to sit in the stands wearing just a sweatshirt.

.

The previous Saturday night, Dad and I watched a Yankee game on our tenement roof using every extension cord in the house. "You're both nuts," Mom said to Dad's ass as he climbed out on our fourth floor fire escape with the cords. Once we settled in with kitchen chairs, a card table for the TV and a spaghetti pot full of ice, beer and soda, Dad said to me, "We got to get up to the Stadium for a game before they go on the road."

.

The game start was 8pm.

We jumped into a cab in front of the Mansion Diner and shot up the FDR. At the Stadium, Dad bought reserved seats in section 15, half way between the Yankee dugout and the right field foul pole. I still have the stub.

.

Dad wrote in the line-ups while I bounced my eyes around the mostly empty ballpark. I smelled cigars, peanuts, and freshly cut grass. This was when I liked the Stadium best. Just the ballplayers on the field and us, real fans, in the stands. You practically had a whole section to yourself, if you didn't count the hundred kids assembled in right or left field waiting anxiously for imminent home runs, depending on whether the batter was left handed or right handed. The gaggle of kids would travel all away around the ballpark to the other side of the field to get in position for a lefty or righty during batting practice. Watching them run was like a Peanuts cartoon soccer game. Dad wasn't nuts about me being in that group yet,"when you're a little older," he wouldn't let me go by myself, and hated flying around with me, "Let's stay here, this way, if the ball comes this way, you'll have it all to yourself."

.

There was no sense arguing with the man, so I focused on the good. With so few people around us, I could hear the ballplayers yell at each other as they played pepper and threw it around the outfield. I got an idea who like each other, and who tortured each other.
.
The Indians were finishing their batting practice. Leon Wagner, a lefty, pounded three pitches into the right field stands. My heart dropped missing the action. I knew the home run derby was going to continue in left field. Rocky Colavito was coming around the cage to take his at bat.

.

I mumbled, "Why'd I bring my glove," and slumped in my chair.

.

Dad looked over at me."Tommy, I did the Indians. Why don't you do the Yankee lineup?"

.

When I reached for the program, I heard solid bat contact, then Dad took my head and pulled it towards his chest hard.

.

"Thwack!"

.

I turned and saw a broken slat on the top of my chair. Colavito had sliced a foul that split my wooden seat. Dad and I stared at it forever, then I began looking for the piece of wood that broke off, a valuable souvenir, Dad grabbed me, picked up our things and we headed out to the right field box seats.

.

All future batting practices were viewed in the outfield or the bleachers. Colavito already a secret Non-Yankee hero of mine ~ he hit four homers in a game in 1959 and looked like my Dad ~ became my favorite all time non-Yankee player.

.

Yankees won 15-5, Stottlemyre pitched well & Tom Tresh and Joe Pepitone hit homers

.

.

Rocky Colavito at Ten Mile River

"I need a Yodel."

"I need a Yankee Doodle"

"I need a rock to throw at your head. Shut up, I'm trying to listen to the Yankee game." I said to Dennis & Artie, while holding the transistor to my ear, desperately moving the radio around to pick up Phil Rizzuto's voice on an AM station far away.

.

We were in Ten Mile River Scout Camp in Narrowsburg, New York. Troop 654, from Yorkville, Manhattan. After two weeks, we were all sick of the camp's steamed food. When we cooked, we screwed it up. We craved Hostess and Drakes Cakes. One kid said, "I Want a Funny Bone!" The cake with the peanut butter vomit in it. Someone threw something at him. Good.

.

I thought the guy who invented Funny Bones was the same guy who invented the soda called Wink with the grapefruit pulp in it. Yeah, he must have said, "kids love fruit pulp in their sodas, and I'm going to shove a load of pulp in there."

.

Remarkably, one of my childhood heroes, Rocky Colavito, the smooth slugger who resembled my Dad was pitching for the Yankees. "The Rock," four home runs in one game, was on the mound, it was August 25, 1968. Less than three months to the Beatles While Album release. In eleven months, we'd be on the moon, Woodstock, and the first Giant & Jet exhibition game at Yale Bowl.

.

With my free hand, I scratched the countless mosquito bites on my legs and butt, then I heard, "Dobson lines a one bouncer to Horace "No Double Play" Clarke, Clarke handles the ball cleanly and fires a strike to Mickey Mantle on first. Heeeee's Out!" Naaaa, the radio voice was fuzzy but I did hear Clarke throw the ball to Mantle and that Colavito was out of the inning with no runs, leaving two men on base.

.

Yankees were down 5-1, going into the bottom of the sixth, Artie, Dennis and I were supposed to be policing the camp site and working on some kind of Scout merit badge. I had already achieved my badge limit, Cooking, Hiking, Whatever its called for using a map properly, and the One Mile Swim. Four were plenty. I earned a significant goof off period and planned on taking these two guys to hell with me.

.

More TMR and Colavito tomorrow.

.

photo courtesy of Gerard Murphy

.