Stratton Park Little League

[Eddie Acunzo]

What teams were in the Stratton Park Little League. I can remember two: Liotta Brothers Bakery, and Maxwell House Coffee.

What was the name of the Hispanic coach, a former minor league baseball player, who was eventually found out to be molesting boys on his team. His famous saying during practice was "Hustle, Searson, hustle," which would would come out "Hasul, Seeson, hasul." My dad and other Stratton Park parents ran him out of the neighborhood on a rail when they found him out.

[Rich Burrell]

Ed: these names come to mind: Holland House Coffee, Hoer's Bakery, Fair Enough Social Club and St. Anthony's Holy Name Society. Coaches: Vinnie Meadows, who was Joey Pierro's uncle, Mr. Skalicki from St. Lawrence Ave. and a Mr. Rizetti, son's name Albert, who lived at Tremont and Rosedale in the small building over the funeral home that noboby ever seemed to use (the funeral home, that is.) Interestingly , John Shanley included an Aldo "Scalicki" as a character in his play "Italian-American Reconciliation".

[Don D]

I think the Hispanic Coach was Frankie Peratta who coached Holland House.

I played for Playdrome Bowling that was coached by Howie Kaplan & Billy Sullivan. Some of the other coaches I remember were Andy Fay Sr, Augie Debellis, Jimmy Gallan

In later years, there were Sullivan's Cafe, Acme Steel as sponsors. The coaches then were Jerry & Danny Kissane, Teddy Schweers, Jimmy Geoghan, Bob Hart, Vinnie Flynn, Jack Hepburn, Henry Rodriquez.

Don

[Eddie Acunzo]

Rich and Don

You guys have amazing memories! Frankie Peratta is right, I couldn't remember his name myself, but now that I see it in print I recall. I didn't know if anyone would remember him. I didn't know what Frankie was doing till after the whole thing was over, but I remember when I found out I thought "Good thing he didn't try anything on me cause Dad would have killed him." I can still see Frankie hitting a ground ball at Joey Searson during practice and yelling, "Hausul, Seeson, hausul." He was a good ballplayer. For that matter, so was Searson. Jimmy Gallan, now deceased, used to live in my building on Taylor. I've recently exchanged e-mails with Jimmy's brother-in-law and sister-in-law, who you probably both remember, Pat and Florrie Werner, parents of Kenny and Pam, who also lived in my building.

[Judy S]

Vinny's pizza was another sponsor

[Don D]

Eddie,

Actually the Florie Werner, Helen Gallan and Caddie Debellis were my dad's cousins. Their parents were brother & sister to my father's parents. I think it was a brother & sister from one family married a brother & sister form the other.

Don

[Kathleen]

Hi Donald & Eddie,

Just wanted to let you both know that I saw Mr. & Mrs. Werner recently and they are both doing well. They were down here in NC visiting Honey & Ken Werner for about 3 weeks. While they were here Denise Gallan flew down from CT for a few days to see them. I hadn't seen her in about 35+ years!! I had seen the Werners a couple of years ago when I flew to Vegas to see my daughter who was teaching there at the time.

We really did have a lot of laughs sitting around the dinner table talking about St. Anthony's and the neighborhood. Both Florie and Denise check this site on a regular basis and enjoy reading about everyone. Florie recognizes a lot of names as being friends with her son (my brother-in-law) Ken. Hope you are both well. Donald, give my best to Ellie and Jeannie.

Kathleen

[bronxbombertoo]

Also add First Fedral Savings, Chock Full of Nuts Coffee, and the Boosters (no sponsor)......and coaches Kelly and Minton (Tom's father) and Bob Fennell Sr. (remenmber Bob and Lurie from Taylor Ave.?)
Kenny 'coin-collector' from the Co-ops was madly in love with Laurie.......................

[Buggsy]

The very first year of the Stratton Park Little League I played for the Smyth oil Company which was coached by Nick Russo. Our uniforms consisted of Tshirts and baseball caps but we had a great time.

[Freddy C]

Hey Buggsy...wuz up? I remember that first year, too. I played for Liotta Bakery, coached by Steve Scalicky and Manny Alexander. We played a lot of games at Crotona Park. One sunny Saturday we were playing your Smyth Oil team. Back then I was full of determination, but low on skill. The pitcher for your team was having control problems that day, and the coaches had alerted us to be patient at the plate. I waited out a base on balls, and took second, and then third base on successive wild pitches. Now I was psyched for scoring a run, if only he'd throw another wild pitch. Sure enough, he threw one in the dirt, and I was off like a bandit. Only problem was that the ball hit that concrete border at the bottom of the backstop, and bounced right back to the catcher. I hadn't been paying much attention to who was on the other team in those days: big mistake. While I was racing for the plate, I saw the ball roll back to the catcher, and as he picked it up and turned toward me, all I could see was this mountain of a guy that I was running toward at full speed. I was probably all of 4 feet tall and weighed around 65 pounds soaking wet. This catcher was at least 6 feet tall even then, and built like a Sherman tank. And there I was, running full speed ahead right to the spot he was standing, which was on top of home plate.
I had seen the boy named Anthony Merendino around the neighborhood but had never been introduced. That day, as they say in the sports world, I got to know him up close and personal. You see, I never really learned how to slide yet, never really had to do it. So as I got closer and closer to this giant person with the ball in his right hand, the one I hadn't met yet, the one protected by shin gaurds, a chest protector and a mask, little ol' me felt like I was heading for a gang fight without a weapon. Where was a two by four when I needed one? In my mind I was yelling, slide you idiot slide, and my inner self was hollering back, how you dummy, how?
Now, I thought I was moving into some facsimile of a slide, but that was wishful thinking. For the last ten feet or so, all I could fixate on was this huge catcher's eyes. The closer I got to home plate, the wider and wider his eyes got, as if to say, this little squirt ain't stopping, and he isn't sliding either. WHAM ! I hit that wall at about 60 miles an hour. (Or so it seemed) I felt the impact, and everything went black. I don't know if I was knocked out or not. Next thing I know, I'm hearing voices. They were calling my name, but I was still in the dark. Suddenly, I could feel the dirt between my fingers, so I realized I was still here on earth, and not yet risen to heaven. All the while I'm saying, "I can't see....I can't see". And the coaches are repeating, "He can't see....he says he can't see" ! Just then someone says, "Well, open your eyes" ! Oh, I thought, that's a novel idea. So I opened my eyes, and behold the bright sun. What do you know, you're not dead, I thought to myself. So they picked me up off the ground, and I looked up at the kid I eventually came to know as Buggsy. He was looking a little shaken, but not near as badly as he had shaken me. He asked was I all right, and I nodded I was. Then they led me to the dugout, gave me a whiff of smelling salts, and told me next time I had better slide.
After the game, they told my Dad about it. I spent the next week wearing out a pair of jeans, while I learned to slide under a rope about 18 inches off the ground, held there by two sticks about three feet apart. Needless to say, by the next game, I was a sliding wizzard. I never had a baserunning collision like that ever again. I'm 59 now; many years have passed. But I'll never forget how weird it felt, back when I was in Little League, when everything went dark, somewhere between heaven and earth, the day I ran full speed into an immovable object named Buggsy.

[Buggsy]

Hey Freddy good to hear from you again.

You know it is funny but I remember that play so well. You were dead to rights, out by a mile, and I kept waiting for you to slide but you never did you tried to run me over. BIG MISTAKE. What I remember then was you were laying on the ground and I thought I killed you. I was real glad when you got up and were alright.

Then the unkindest cut of all. They called you SAFE!!!! No way!! You never got within 4 feet of the plate I know for sure. The only thing was I felt so bad that I never said a word. It seemed like such a big deal back then but in the grand scheme of things it was nothing. I always admired you for your guts and determination on the playing field. I am sure it served you well in life.

Good to hear from you I saw your brother Tommy not too long ago and told him to say hello. See YA!

[Buggsy]

Hey Freddy good to hear from you again.

You know it is funny but I remember that play so well. You were dead to rights, out by a mile, and I kept waiting for you to slide but you never did you tried to run me over. BIG MISTAKE. What I remember then was you were laying on the ground and I thought I killed you. I was real glad when you got up and were alright.

Then the unkindest cut of all. They called you SAFE!!!! No way!! You never got within 4 feet of the plate I know for sure. The only thing was I felt so bad that I never said a word. It seemed like such a big deal back then but in the grand scheme of things it was nothing. I always admired you for your guts and determination on the playing field. I am sure it served you well in life.

Good to hear from you I saw your brother Tommy not too long ago and told him to say hello. See YA!