The Pinky and Mr. Spalding

Pinkies and Mr. Spalding

Mom searched for the new broom without much luck. The porch and the sidewalk would have to wait.

In the meantime, across the street in the schoolyard, the voices of the neighborhood kids could be heard loud and clear. The excitement in the schoolyard was a daily ritual; especially during the summer vacation.

Stickball was the game of choice. The ground rules didn’t have to be reviewed because everyone knew them. A single was one that got past the pitcher on the ground without being caught, a double was a hit that reached the middle of the field on a fly, a triple had to hit the sidewalk on a fly and a home run was one hit onto Paulison Avenue. Teams were chosen and the game was underway.

The ideal thing about stickball was that it could be played one against one or with any number of players. All you needed was a stick for a bat and a 15 cent pink rubber ball (a Pinky). If you were lucky enough to have a quarter you could buy a Spalding which was the Holy Grail of stickball orbs. The Spalding lasted longer and went further when you hit it.

The games would go on all day with players coming and going. However, I never left the field and spent the day doing what I loved to do.

There were some legendary shots hit there at the schoolyard. Two of them I remember clearly.

The first one was hit by my oldest brother Tom before they tore down the school and we played with a field that faced the other direction. Home plate faced Howe Avenue in those days with houses and other buildings serving as the backdrop for Home Run territory much like Wrigley Field. My brother’s legendary shot was a line drive shot that broke the window of the Musciotto’s apartment that sat above Rasp Linotype. The Musciottos were on vacation at the time and we knew that when they returned they were in for a surprise.

The Musciottos returned and of course, they knew who to ask about the broken window. We confessed that my brother Tom hit the ball. Mr. Musciotto said, “That was quite a shot, Tom we found the ball all the way at the other side of the apartment.” I don’t remember if we paid for the window, but the Musciottos were great people and seemed to enjoy it when the kids were outside playing.

That home run by Tom was talked about for a long time, especially by the Musciottos.

The second legendary home run I remember because it was one I hit when the field faced Paulison Avenue and a home run was a much longer shot onto Paulison Avenue.

My shot was one of many that were hit onto Paulison Avenue, which was a pretty busy street. However, the day I hit the legendary home run was one that those who were playing probably still remember. As the ball headed for home run territory we could hear the siren of the fire engine heading down Paulison Avenue. The fire engine and the ball crossed paths at the same time and the ball I hit went into the cab of the fire engine. I’m sure there are a couple of firemen still wondering where that ball came from. For those of us playing, we just laughed and were amazed at the shot. Of course, we lost our Pinky and had to run to Maxie’s to buy another.

This is the action that took place almost every day of the summer at Howe and Paulison Avenues during my childhood. It lasted until the street lights went on and our moms would call us home.

As I walked back home with my stickball bat that had a taped handle I carefully placed it in the corner on the porch ready for the next day.

This time, before I could place it in the corner my mom came out on the porch and inquired if I had seen the new broom. Playing dumb I said maybe it was on the back porch. From behind her back, my mom produced the business end of the new broom and I knew I was caught. I was holding the other end that I carefully cut off earlier that day for my stickball bat.

The next day I was a little late for the game. My friends could see me washing off the porch and sidewalk with the hose while my mom stood in the doorway and watched to make sure it got done.

Over the years my mom lost many brooms and always knew who to ask. I think she really didn’t care because she always knew where I was and the hose was faster anyway.

Those were the days when a simple stick and a pink rubber ball kept the neighborhood kids out of trouble and always occupied. If it wasn’t for stickball there is no telling what mischief we would have gotten into.

So a big thank-you goes out to the Pinky and Mr. Spalding for making my life richer and one filled with memories that will never fade.