In America, we ask each other “How old are you” when discussing age. If you translate the French inquiry it becomes “How many years do you have” and I am joyful that I have ticked off quite a few years on my ledger. It’s obvious I enjoy sports and music along with many other pursuits but after my Big 3 (God, Family, Roots) the previously mentioned dynamic duo ranks pretty darn high on my priority list. Due to accumulating more than a few decades I have been blessed to experience so many great athletes in their careers and sadly I have also witnessed so many of these folks being called Home. Willie Mays’ passing jolted me big time and c’mon, anyone playing little league or pick ball had to attempt Say Heys “Basket Catch” on more than one occasion. This past week another gent who so many copied, especially in the Heartland known as #TheCLE, left this life for his Glory. Rocco Domenico “Rocky” Colavito passed away at the age of 91 surrounded by family and the news gut punched so many who watched, cheered, grew up and were devastated when he was traded in 1960.
Yes it was yesterday, or so it seems, on the diamonds of Morgana Park in Slavic Village and the Golden Knights fields behind St. Henry’s Church and School, where so many young, baseball aficionados, did what Rocky did – kneel in the on deck circle, stretch with the bat behind his back grasped firmly with one hand at the top and one at the bottom before he stepped into the batter’s box then he would point the bat at the pitcher.
One’s memory is so special and so many times I wonder why I forget to pick up something the wife had asked for, but I can rattle off some sports event or lineup that happened quite ago. One of these took place courtesy of Rocky. It was June 10, 1959, and The Rock, in a bit of a slump, when asked about that by a Cleveland reporter denied knowledge of it going on but in turn noted “Maybe I’ll break out of it tonight.” The Indians were in Baltimore to face the Orioles and Rocky indeed broke out of it big time. A little background for you as our family had just moved to 3990 JoAnn Drive in the Lee Harvard neighborhood. Our bungalow had 2 bedrooms plus a large room over the house on the 2nd floor that doubled as another bedroom but was used mostly as a playroom. We also had a partially finished basement divided into a laundry room, workbench room (which later became our “train set up room” and a large area with tile on the floor, cinder blocks, some built in benches and a bar. Of course, there was no A/C in the house so on real hot nights my industrious Dad went out and bought an old black and white “portable” TV (still huge but not set in the wonderful cabinets or consoles the way so many TVs came in that day). This was our basement television and with tin foil on the rabbit ears antenna we usually could get a channel of our desires, and on this sweltering June night, Max Bishop and his son Mark had targeted the Tribe’s baseball game. Yes, the basement was much cooler than the rest of the house, so Dad and son were ready to go in our blue-collar Man Cave! Dad brought down 2 folding chairs from the slab patio behind the house, and it was time to “Play Ball.” Carling’s Black Label also was featured that night as a sponsor of Indians Baseball and consumption by my Father. I can see and hear the commercials! A waitress with a tray holding “Black Label” beers and the audio noting “Hey Mabel, Black Label.” I was also the go-fer for my Dad between innings (not every inning mind you!) I would make the run up the stairs to the fridge to bring Dad another Black Label. He schooled me in proper baseball etiquette and would never have me go up during an inning. I also walked back down the stairs so I would not shake up that ice cold carbonated beverage.
As the game progressed it was obvious Rocky was snapping out of his slump, hitting HRs in the 3rd, 4th, 6th and in the 9th inning (He also walked in the first inning). After the first two home runs my Father felt good about a third then he knew a 4th one was coming. I also remember a Birds fan tossing a beer at Rocky and he was quoted after the game as saying, “I knew who threw it but after my 4th HR he waved at me in the bottom of the 9th when I went out to play RF. Nice fella.” A special night made even more special watching it unfold with my Dad. After the game ended there was but one thing to ask my Father…”Hey Dad, wanna have a catch?” Of course, we did the next day when he came home from work.
There was much more Rocky for the gang from the 183rd and Harvard part of the neighborhood. When a few of us would get a nickel or two (a real big deal) we would stroll a few blocks down Harvard Avenue to Lamboy’s Delicatessen to grab some baseball cards and we tore into that outer wrapping with a tenacity of an attack dog to see what Indians we had but to see if THE ROCK’s card was there. He made the lives of young kids and for that matter the whole city so much better!
The joy turned to sorrow on Sunday April 17, 1960, as my Dad relayed to me that Tribe GM Frank “Trader” Lane had shipped Rocky off to the Tigers for Harvey Kuenn. Kuenn had been the AL Batting Champ in ’59 with a .353 average, but HE WAS NOR COULD BE ROCKY COLAVITO. Of course, getting news such as this was not as easy as today (an understatement). I do know my Dad was working on his DeSoto station wagon (it seemed to be a 3-4 times a week happening) and had the radio on so he got the news that way. Did I cry?” Heck yes and I immediately grabbed my Rocky Colavito baseball cards and started going door to door to spread the news. Soon we had a parade of 10-12 kids in tears, all carrying their Rocky baseball cards, spreading the news of the trade.
Rocky would come back but it just was not the same as Cleveland baseball fans’ hearts and souls were ripped out that day in 1960. I always wondered if the saying a few years later of “Cleveland You Have To Be Tough” had its roots in the Colavito trade.
As the decades passed Rocky endeared himself to the people of Cleveland and truly so many are now diminished by the passing of this man, born in the Bronx, but infused in the baseball psyche of so many. His statue in Little Italy (Tony Brush Park) has visitors no matter what the weather may be. If you have not checked it out, do it soon. RIP Rocky and THANK YOU.
Read more of my thoughts and musings on NEO SPORTS INSIDERS. Munch on Sports is powered by the Ken Ganley Auto Group & Ganley Chevy of Aurora.
Please take care of each other and it’s your world, pay attention. Indeed, enjoy every sandwich and for now ADIOS AMIGO, long may you run.
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