yes I remember, we had agame…

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yes I remember, we had agame that we fondly called “off the point” played like baseball, where one would strike the ball against the cement curb WE lived in the projects in yhe Bronx where each separate building had their own playground, with each having their own dementions and ground rules. it was exciting when two buildings would battle it out, we even had a all star game and a world series, the playgrond would be packed. We would purchase spaldings for only 25 cents.

I lived in NYC on 162nd st….

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I lived in NYC on 162nd st. in Washington Heights and we played stickball quite a bit during the late 40’s and 50’s. I remember we had a team called the COMETS. It was a rather loose organization and some of us had blue t-shirts with the name in red while others had no team shirt at all. The “Spaldines” spent quite a lot of time on the roof of Jumels Garage, which is still there by the way. Every so often someone had to go up to the roof of an adjoining apartment house and jump from a fire escape to the roof of the garage to retrieve some so games could continue. It’s been 50 years but I can still conjure up the sounds of the bats hitting the ground after a solid hit and the smells of the hot tar street baking on a sultry summer afternoon. Not to mention the occasional sound of breaking glass as someones window became a sacrifice to the game.

Is there any stickball teams…

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Is there any stickball teams in south florida, I am from NY but currently live in south florida due to the military. If anyone can tell me of any teams, please notify me @ thanx.

I grew up in the Bronx in…

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I grew up in the Bronx in the 1950’s on 146th Street and Brook Avenue. We use to play “Off The Wall” with a Spaldeen. We would stand close to the wall and throw the ball against it to propel it across the street to hit the wall on the other side and you would run bases. Catching the ball off the wall was an out, three outs per inning. If I remember ( I am an active 67 year old) we had three men per team, one on first and third and one in the outfield. You could also “hit” a line drive to the infield to get on base.

I grew up in the South Bronx…

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I grew up in the South Bronx in the early 1950’s, on 146th Street and Brook Avenue. When we played stickball a sewer was home plate and since cars were usually parked on the street we painted bases in the gutter next to the cars. If the cares were not on 1st and 3rd we had bases painted near the curb. Brook Avenue was center field, so the outfielder not only had to play the field but look out for cars. Any ball hit on the roof of the five story buildings was out and usually time was called until we could send someone up to the roof to retrieve the ball. We used the standard “Spaldeen” (Spalding)that we purchased at the local candy store. We would collect 5 nickels and go to the candy and hold two balls against another at about head height, drop them at the same time and pick the one that bounced the highest and then compare that on with another from the box of balls that the candy store owner had. We would go through the entire box until we buy the one ball the bounced the highest. If the ball went down the sewer we would fashion a wire coat hanger and try to scoop the ball out. Things were easier those days, we made our own fun out of the simplest things.

Like many of you, this site…

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Like many of you, this site definitely brought back a lot of memories. I’m 41 and living in California these days but back in da day (’65-87), the Bronx was my world. I lived in the same apt on Stratford Ave for 21 years. My friends on the block all did too. As a child I remember it as a mostly jewish/italian community. As I grew up more latinos moved in but it was still a mix of Puerto Ricans, Ecuadorians, Dominicans, Costa Ricans, etc…The nice part was…we all got along. Don’t ever remember any racial tensions…not as a kid…maybe later in my teens years but nothing crazy. Yeah, we were poor as hell, but back then, we didn’t realize it. It’s was only after leaving that I realized, “man, I was poor!”. But I was rich when it came to what we made of it. I tell my family (raised in California) about my life in NY and they shake their heads sometimes, thinking, this guy is insane with all his stories…but they’re all true. It’s a different generation now. It makes me appreciate everything I have today. I wish my kids would understand that sometimes. We had no nintendo/xbox, cell phones, or 300 channels of HDTV. We had channels 2/4/5/7/9/11 and 13. That was it. That was enough for me back then. I was never home…I was always outside with all of my friends. Sometimes I wish I could just go back for just one day, to see all my friends, laughing, running around, playing. I’ll always cherish those years. Luckily most of my friends made it out alive and we still keep in touch. To those who didn’t, r.i.p. (Victor “Lil Vic” Maldonado, “Kendo”, Nelson “Lil Tito” Rivera, Frankie Vasquez, Tuto’s brother Johnny, “Kolo”, Darnell “Perk” Perkins-TC5). I always pour some beer out to these guys. peace, Pook

Pook, from 1154 Stratford…

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Pook, from 1154 Stratford Ave (bet Watson/Westchester) here. Born and raised in the Bronx, lived in the same apt until I was 21 and we moved to Puerto Rico (’65-’87). Son of Sam used to live on my block as a kid. The summers were the best…lots of good memories as a kid, playing all the street games there were. The old Ward Theatre was where we’d go watch all the Bruce Lee flicks (it later became Roller World skating rink then a furniture outlet of some type). Carvel and Hebrew National deli was down the block on Westchester across from the original Yankees Pizza. Man, a slice with extra cheese and a Carvel shake???!!! That was heaven. Went to JHS 123 (or as we called it, “The Rikers Island Annex” heh heh). We’d all go check out Bambaataa at the Zulu Nation jams in Bronx River projects. Hanging out in front of the stoop with all my friends, rapping to all the girls or snapping on each other. I’d bring my box and we’d chill out listening to 98.7 Kiss/92 KTU/BLS. Red Alert/Chuck Chillout/Mr Magic. Then we’d get 25 cents and get a “piragua” down the block (or a “coquito”). It was cool ’til the mid 80’s when crack took over and messed EVERYTHING up. Before that, it was a cool place to live and grow up. After I left, i lost a few friends who were killed in front of my old building. I went back in ’98 and ’04 but everyone I knew (except for a few old ladies like my boy Pedro’s grandmother) was gone. Although a mural of one of my boys that was killed is still there (on Stratford, near Westchester). Very sad going back to the block. Sandra, you said it right, those were the days…peace.