Category Archives: Bronx

Didn’t anyone use CLAY? Even…

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Didn’t anyone use CLAY? Even the poll didn’t include it (sigh). I played in “DA Bronx” in the 70’s. I took this picture of me back in 1994 of the old scully board we played on as youths in the Bronx Park near 219th Street. The updated URL is: http://www.teako170.com/scullpic.jpg My “king checker” was made from an old “Push-up” bottom stuffed with gold/yellow clay and a small plastic crown — the sweetest cap on the blvd! Man – would I love to get together someday with some old players and bang around the board a bit. Best, Terrence — THIRD MILLENNIUM entertainment http://www.teako170.com

I knew Steve as a young…

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I knew Steve as a young teenager. For three years we played little league baseball together on the team sponsored by Lochard Realty on Castle Hill Avenue. I didn’t stay in touch with him through the years as he attended Norman Thomas and I and the rest of the guys we knew attended Stevenson. I can only say that as a young man Steve was a good guy. As far as the sport goes, everyone who reads these messages will know what I knew 26 years ago, and that is “Steve loved baseball”, in any fashion. As long as there was a bat and a ball, there would be a game. I had found out about Steve’s untimely passing while browsing the different websites created since that tragic day. I was shocked as I am sure everyone else was when they found out. It is strange how playing sports creates this comraderie that stays with you forever. After years of living outside the borough and missing it terribly, I moved back to the Bronx. When I was bringing the last load of stuff to my apartment, I decided to pass by the old school to take a look at it’s condition. The school wasn’t what it used to be, but I saw something that I had not known existed in the “hood”. A bunch of guys playing stickball. I hadn’t seen that since I was maybe 8 years old. My father and his friends and sons played back on Elder Avenue in the 50’s and 60’s. That was when I got my first taste of baseball. As I pulled closer to the game I could see I didn’t know any of the guys except one. That was Steve. I was amazed to see how he had filled out as a man. Steve was a very small guy when we played ball together. I was afraid to approach because everyone was “into the game”. Guys were tense, talking trash etc. Seeing how things have since turned out, I am sorry I didn’t. A great man of our community has been lost. I will miss him. My love and prayers go out to his wife and family. You will be sorely missed. If there are any other tributes too, or planned fund raisers for Steve’s family, I would love to take part in them. Please anyone who is in touch with the league or knows of these functions, I ask that you forward such info to my e-mail address.

This summer, after locating…

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This summer, after locating your website, I painted 3 skelly boards on some blacktop at a sleepaway camp called Camp Mesorah. I grew up in city hpousing project in Queens (Pomonok)and the last time played the game was 45 years ago. I used the Bronx rules because the 2,4,6,8 trapezoid made the game rules more exciting. The game took off. Kids were playing it at every free moment they had. Pipsie became a respected and revered word in camper vocabulary. We used metal snapple caps for skelly caps, filling them with crayons that we melted with magnifying glasses. The designs and colors in them were elaborate. Campers and counselors formed teams together(as age doesn’t matter but skill does) and a 32 team tournament with trophies culminated the season. This summer, more black top is being added and the number of courts will increase to 12. Lighting is also being added for night games. More tournatments are planned and the game with intercamp challanges. The game has already spread to 5 Towns area of LI where I was hired to paint 3 courts in driveways and backyards. hank you for helping me relive my childhood. This is the game that taught me addition, subtraction and strategy. Maybe one day we will see a skelly court on every basketball court!

Yeah, I remember dear old…

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Yeah, I remember dear old Dad. He loved to play the horses…in fact, he loved to wager on anything. Problem was, he wagered TOO much and it cost him his life. Well, that’s another story for another day and another topic (perhaps, “My Father was a Bookie, what was yours?”). Oh yeah, the story. One late August night, back in 1958, my father took me to a Yankees – Senators game at the stadium. For some reason, unknown to a 5 year old boy, he decided to pay for a taxi as the transportation to and from the Bronx (maybe the car was repossesed? We lived in Forest Hills, Queens). Anyway, I don’t recall too much about the game but I sure as hell recall what happened afterwards. The return taxi was summoned for the trip back home and some where along the line, maybe even towards the end of the game, it started raining…pouring…heavy! The cabbie wheeled the taxi into a gas station in order to refill the tank. I remember the back door opening and the water on the ground rising above my shoes. We raced/splashed/slid into the waiting room whilst the cab was re-fueled. My dad went off to another room…more than likely to use the pay phone to call…yup…his book. So I waited. And waited. The rain as so thick, I could barely see out the window to the gas pumps straight ahead. Still waiting. Finally, an attendant came in and asked me whom I belonged to. “My dad.” I replied. “And he’s in the taxi outside that’s getting gas.” “There’s no taxi out there now,” said the attendant. I think I started crying but I was too traumatized to remember. Still am. Turns out, he left me there…plum forgot about me…probably pre-occupied with his wagering. I find out later, he had gone 3 or 4 blocks before the cabbie asked about his son. Well, they did come back for me so all’s well that ends well, right? Sure it is.

My dad immigrated as a farm…

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My dad immigrated as a farm boy from Patillas PR in the early 1920s’ and saw Babe Ruth and Murderers’ row play in Yankee stadium. Dads’ a magnetic and fun personality who could always make us laugh. He’s 87 now still smokes those huge cigars and going strong. He was an ex-boxer and a welterweight along with my uncle who went professional. He boxed “two a days” in three round tournaments for the diamond gloves in ebbetts field and the golden gloves in madison square garden and got his picture in the Daily News more than once. In the Bronx growing up, me and my four brothers tried his patience more than we should have. My Dad never hit us kids and was a strong but gentle spirit who used humor to win you over and just cracked us up..

It’s nice to know there…

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It’s nice to know there is this comraderie of being brought up in Da Bronx. My story might sound a little different. I grew up in the Classon Point area which is a several miles West and South of Castle Hill. There were no number named streets just Randall,Soundview,Beach,Commonwealth,and along with playing ringoleaveo,cracktop,skully,touch football,johnny on the pony,schoolyard basketball, I remember going to Worlds fair and “Freedomland” which was bigger than Disneyland and is now where co-op city is. I also remember going fishing for porgies,fluke,flounder,eels,blackfish,bluefish, stripers and went crabbing during the winter in the Bronx and East Rivers. We would throw them back and keep only the fish(Stripers) we caught further east on the sound.(I don’t know if any of this wildlife is there today.) We hunted pheasants with a bow and arrow(probably illegal) in the many open areas that were still wild in this area in the late fifties and early sixties. My neighbors were the best and consisted of the Archettis’LoContes’,Diazs’,Gorshoffs’Hodges’,Freemans’ to name a few and they were of Italian,Black,Puerto Rican,Irish, Columbian,Jewish, German heritages,a beautiful mix and everybody new each other and their kids. My mom would speak Spanish to our Italian speaking neighbor and they would understand each other. This is a part of the Bronx that had “Shorehaven”,Harding Park,Seven caves,Rubys, Genes’,Classon point yacht club, and the Beach Theater. Our wood frame houses on St. Lawrence ave. were in the area of several projects and one of the oldest sections in the area going back to farming days in the Bronx. We were right across the East River from Shea stadium and from my roof I could see the lights of the stadium as well as the Empire state building and the Twin towers when they were being built. I went to P.S. “69” which is built like a World War II memorial with gorgoyle heads of soldiers looking down at you. The school had painted over asphalt floors in the stairwells and ground floor that had years of high heel marks in them. It had a schoolyard perfect for pitch count stickball played with a chalked in strike zone against a wall. Can’t question a strike when the spaldeen has chalk on it!!

Yes Rich- I’m from the Soundview/Classon…

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Yes Rich- I’m from the Soundview/Classon Point area of the Bronx and we played “cracktop” the same as “costy”. The intent was not only to get other colors on your wooden top but to crack the other tops. I can see why “costy” would be a name for this, a walk to the store for another 15(small) or 25(large)cent top was part of the game. They gave you a string with a wooden button along with the top but we usually tied a sliding knot loop onto the finger. We could really whip those tops!! This game was as cool as it gets!!

During the late 1940’s I…

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During the late 1940’s I played stickball on Crotona Pkway, a quiet, narrow thoroughfare parallel to Southern Boulvd with its constant rush of traffic and trollycars. On one side There were large apartment buildings, “courthouses” and along the other sidewalk there were park benches, usually taken by mothers and baby carriages. The beautiful trees shading the benches were later overcome by the elm blight. Anyway, this was the scene of some happy stickball playing on the curve of Crotona Pkwy, between Bronx Park South and 181st Street.

I am glad that there is…

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I am glad that there is a board for this game…growing up in the Bronx it was considered a spring to fall pastime…one thing I haven’t noticed anyone mentioned yet…maybe because it was different on my block was, when you were going to #13 there weren’t numbers around it…instead the numbers were replaced by the letters D S D S…D meant danger…S meant safe…if your skellies cap ended up in danger you had to stay there till another play hit you out…when such an act is done that player gets to move up a few places on the board.