My Father came to Philadelphia from St. Catherine, Calabria, Italy at around 9 years old. He came with his Mother to join his Father who was already here and working ...He told me that when he arrived one of the ways he learned to speak English was to listen to the Phillies games on the radio in the kitchen in the wonderfully tiny house on Watkins St. in South Philadelphia. He was fascinated, he said, with imagining what was going on while understanding a few words here and there...he had no comparison in Italy to connect it with...and all through his growing up during adolescence and young adult years... as he learned to be an American he also learned to be a Phillies fan...
When I was a kid one of the first things he introduced my brother and I to was the Phillies...Byron Saam on the car radio...and rooting for the home team. Growing up in Drexel Hill, on every game night, there was usually a bus that left from either behind the Dairy Queen at State and Lansdowne or from the 69th St. Terminal and took all aboard to Connie Mack Stadium....I wish I could remember the cost of the bus and the ticket...
My brother and I would get on the bus (imagine sending an 8 and 10 year old today by themselves), find our seats in Connie Mack and watch the game. The very best part was around the 7th inning when my Father would come running up the steps from his job in the city with popcorn in megaphones and cokes for each of us...and we would sit and watch the rest of the game with him...although if you knew my father you know he rarely stayed until the end...bottom of the 8th inning was always enough...then he would take us home in our car...and listen to the end on the radio...What a great night...
On Saturdays he would take us out to the bleachers in Connie Mack and meet up with his friends and all of their children...we cheered for Robin Roberts and my first baseball crush, Richie Ashburn...we even cheered for some visiting players...my Father loved Stan "The Man" Musial, his friend Tony Beautiful rooted for Jackie Robinson and my Uncle Dominic would always give it up for "Hammering" Hank Aaron...One last story...on Father's Day June, 1964 my Father and I were going to South Philadelphia to pick up my Grandmom to bring her to our house for dinner and we were, of course, listening to Byron Saam on the radio...it was the day Jim Bunning pitched the perfect game...We got to Watkins St. around the 8th inning and ran into her house yelling "Quick, turn on the TV"...but we found sitting and standing around her small black and white TV with the rabbit ears at least 10 Italian Grandmothers... comares...yelling..."Strika one...Strika duey...Youra out!"...a famous family scene that lives on and on in our history...
I have lots more stories...we won World Series tickets in a lottery in 1964, the year they blew the lead and didn't make it and he always had lots of tickets for the new Veteran Stadium...that he ALWAYS gave to my brothers...and he was excited for 1980 and enjoyed the thrill of that victory...neither one of us could really ever get behind that Lenny Dykstra team in 1993 but we rooted for them anyway and i still refuse to travel to Toronto...
God, I love loving the Phillies...Robin, Richie, Nicky my Father...and Me...
2 comments:
all warm and fuzzy inside.....i miss pop, too....
love you momma...xxoo
I'm thinking I'm the one with the countdown thingie on my iPhone, right?? FYI, as of today, January 27th, there are just 17 DAYS LEFT for pitchers and catchers to report to Clearwater for Spring Training!!! AND 64 DAYS until Opening Day!! (Though that sounds like a long time!)
And yes, my love of Phillies baseball came from my dad too. :-)
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