louie from brooklyn the spaldeen is the best.We played stickball in the school yard and hit the the ball from one side of the school yard to the other and over the fences.In the steet we counted the sewers one would be a double 2 would be a triple and three would be a homer. the only ball that would do that would be a spaldeen.
Grew up in Kensington in Philly, great neighborhood, Stickball was the best. Pimple Balls were the best to play with, We’d play like 10 games a day in the summer time. They made the blue pimple balls before they stopped making them, would be nice to have one of each. We also played Freedom for hours on end. Freedom was a game where you had at least 5 or more on two teams and you set boundaries of the neighborhood, usual 2 or 3 block radius. The goal was to catch all the members of the opposite team and bring them back to base. The other members would have to touch base and say “Freedom!” and the ones that were caught would run and the whole game would begin again. Hours and hours played at Elkin School in Kensington. Oh yeah, when you caught a person you’d have to say “1-2-3 your my man no breaksies, no locksies, and throw away the key”.
I had the great fortune to grow up on Pine Street in Cypress hills in the 60’s-70’s where the fulton street el ran. The typical home plate sewer was almost right in front of my house about 2+ sewers from the corner. I remember the first time a guy hit the el from there playing stickball. It was the cousin of a guy who lived on the block. I was younger than that crowd so I just got to watch those guys. It was no-pitch stickball and it was amazing to watch a guy hit a ball so far. My younger crowd played the sewer closer to the corner so we could always hit the el and that was great. If you caught it falling thru the el the batter was out unless it hit the “shed” – the roof over the platform. You also had to be careful not to hit it over or thru the el and onto the roof of Elton Paint. Or if you hit it up there and a train came and hit the ball down Fulton Street it was still fair.
It’s a pleasant surprise to find this site. Hello everyone. Stickball allows for great memories and stories. Friends play together and are made. We respect the game. Part of our youth, our culture, and gave us something positive to do. I have some truly wonderful memories of this game, the people who I played with, those times pretty much long gone. Here’s my story, and I will try to keep it as short as possible, if maybe your time might be limited. I grew up in Flatbush Brooklyn for most of my life. I began playing stickball at about 10 years old. The older I became, the more I seemed to play. I’m in my forties now. The time for my story spans nearly a quarter century. During the late 70’s to just before 2000. We played the fast-pitch version. Funny thing, in how I read that the pitcher was supposed to be about 55 feet from the strike box. Well, no one really ever told us (lol) because there was this long crack in the pavement, which couldn’t have been more than 40 feet from the strike zone. I just thought hey, that’s kinda close, but I kept my eyes so trained on the pitcher, it really didn’t matter. Everyone who played there used that same pavement crack for the pitcher’s rubber. (mound). We rarely played in the streets like many others commonly did. In our neighborhood, we had this playground – a small park, with one of those brick little Parks Dept. Buildings. Its two windows were boarded, but right under each of their ledges, was just the right height to put a strike zone. Some used paint to mark the square. I mostly used 3″ masking tape to box out the zone, so no one would complain. (lol) Nothing more frustrating, than salivating to get your stickball fix, and someone telling you about marking public property. So, ok, anyway… We had our own league. Everyone who could play from the neighborhood and closeby neighborhhods. All in all, I must’ve seen at least dozens of different players on a weekly basis, and with only two courts, you know there was a race to get dibs on any one of them first. Sometimes, the courts were less crowded, and man, those were the days. Our “Stadium”. Small park, with nearby fences and high trees. We usually had person vs. person (singles), Two-man, and Three, even Four-man teams playing. I was game for any combination. Man, this is bringing the memories. The guys I played with were fierce competitors to the core. No easy game vs. any one of them. So, based on the park’s layout, we had all concrete, a Tall Tree for a Third-Base Line, and the foot of a sliding pond for the First-Base line. You could hit either a Single, which was basically a grounder past the infield or untouched, a Double, which was a line – drive through the base of the surrounding trees or into them, or a Homer, which had to go clear over any one of them in Fair Territory. It was a Natural Mini-Stadium for sure. The hardest part of all, was just making contact, because that pitcher’s mound was like right on you. We played 7 to 9 inning games. The players I remember most, were Frank & his brother John, Toto and his Two Brothers Junior & Claude, and some other fellas who were all brothers and lived down the block. John, Dennis, George among them. Then there was Luther, and Gerald, and this guy named Johnny. Duncan, Fritz, Patrick, Will, Tyrone, & so many more. Honestly, they were all very good players. I know the rest of you grew up with some great players too. Respect there. But to tell you, it was routine that searing line drives would be traded back and forth which were really entertaining. These guys could hit. And pitch. Lots of strikeouts. How did I do? Well, I can’t or won’t brag. These guys I played with, made me the best player I could be. I had memorable games with all of them. My pitching was almost unbeatable. Consistent in the strike zone, working the corners, and changing speeds and angles into the zone. I gave every single one of them fits. I also was a switch hitter, with great contact & with power. Mainly, Frank and I played the most it seemed. Just ahead of the guys who were there the most. Him and his brother John, and Toto, and his brother Junior would come out in the Rain with me to play. Duncan & Fritz too. Frank was a monster. Super-fast pitching, like a no-mercy style. When he got hold of one when hitting, well, it was air time as the pink “Hi-Bounce” or “Spaulding” turned into an asteriod headed somewhere. That guy cost me a small fortune in Homers which we at best had a 50/50 chance of finding. Frank was awesome, and when we weren’t playing each other, we were team-mates in Two-man. I really don’t think we ever lost that much because it was a one – two punch with both of us being excellent pitchers and hitters. Great memories. I really liked those guys, every last one of them. I guess the highlight years when we all played together for so long covered the very early 80’s to 90’s. Many moved away. We also played together on championship baseball & softball teams, which is probably why the enthusiasm we shared was carried back & forth from the baseball/ softball field to the stickball court. I loved it. Those weekends rocked. I’m so grateful for them. Two last things. A. When I was alone there, sometimes I went to practice. Rain or not, I wanted to be there. Occasionally, some younger kid was there, and I could see that desire in his eyes, so then, I tried to teach him a couple of things. What I do know, …
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. 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.
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 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.