Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1955-04-05

within a month or so, we moved
to Bayonne. N. J.
We lived on a kind Of quiet
street. A block away was an In
This is the second Of IA excerpts
from Al Sehacht's informal autobi-
osrophy. Ny Own PortieuIor Serewboll.
edited BY Ed Reyes and published BY
Doubleday 8 Co.
closed baseball park. the first
one ] had ever seen. where the
Bayonne A. c. team played every
Sunday. And it was there that
saw my first organized ball
game and was convinced my aim
in life was to become star
pitcher.
A mob Of maybe SO kids used
to stand outside the Bayonne
ball park on Sunday during the
game. We couldn't afford to pay
our way inside, so we'd wait for
a foul ball or home run to be
hit over the fence. There'd be a
wild scramble. and the one who
came up with the ball got in to
see the game for free. After a
few Sundays of getting nothing
but Jumps for my trouble. fig
ured out an angle.
We dug a hole under the fence
and slipped in. The Waterman
spotted us and searched for us
all during the game, but we kept
moving around through the
crowd. I didn't mind this in
convenience, because I was see
ing my first big ball game and
I was thrilled.
Takes Over as Mascot.
In fact, I was SO carried away
that as soon as the game was
over I dashed out onto the field,
grabbed the home teams bats
and helped the team mascot,
who was smaller than me, to
carry the equipment into the
clubhouse. The clubhouse" was
the rear Of a saloon next to the
ball park. I stood around with
stars in my eyes listening to
them bull about the game. /
hung around so much after that
and was so eager to please, that
pretty soon they made me off,
cial, full-time mascot. My big
gest thrill was being allowed to
shay fly balls in practice. And
got paid 10 cents a game, plus
a brand-new baseball Slightly
used).
One of those baseballs got me
into another jam. Getting q kid
to warm me up" one day. I
pitched a few, then let 60 with
my fast ball, just as I'd seen
the Bayonne pitcher do. It
sailed high and away and
smashed the big plate glass VIM
dow of the corner saloon. Who
comes roaring outside but the
Waterman from the ball park.
He dragged me home and made
my dad shell out five bucks.
Right then and there, Nom
put her foot downtown my
throat. was forbidden ever to
play baseball again, or even
think about it. ! thought my
career was ruined. And I didn't
even get my ball back.
After a while, I worked up
enough nerve to ask my dad for
Is cents for another ball. I
told him I wouldn't play with it.
but Just wanted to have it. Pc
Rod. He stroked his chin. then
handed me the Is cents.
But don't tell Mama" he
said.
Bathing Suit for Uniform
I couldn't stop thinking about
baseball. I found an old bath
ing suit Of my fathers, q gray
one with long legs which looked
from a distance just like a base
ball uniform. So, on Sundays
I'd sneak into 1t, with a pair of
Dads socks, and with my 10-cent
glove and l5-cent ball would sit
up on our second floor porch
nonchalantly Tipping the ball.
When the fans streamed out Of
the ball park after the game.
they'd see me. and I got kick
imagining they thought ! was
one Of the players.
I'd forgotten about baseball.
almost--when a great calamity
struck Bayonne. The oil tanks
caught fire. The flremen couldn't
seem to stop the huge blaze. The
third day Of the fire, my. father
came home from work early and
announced we were getting out
of Bayonne. That night we trav-
eled to our new home at Third
avenue near Wendover avenue
In the Bronx.
Mothers forget. Nom didn't
even know it when. shortly after
J we moved. I organized a baseball
III - - M M