stickball is coming back to astoria, queens come join us, teams are now forming all games are played on sat. may31-sept5 come on down and join the astoria stickball league call danny at 1-347-693-8429 call now!!!!
Stick ball bats are available at Home Depot.Use their 36″ dowels in any diameter you like,and cut them to length.Bernie
Hi, Can anyone ID the player in the 1949 picture of Minton’s Team on the extreme left bottow row?
I grew up in Flatbush Brooklyn. I am 40 yrs old now. We lived on the streets as kids. Our imagination was not provided by a computer or a video game. We had very little money so we had to play with things like skully, stick ball, johhnie on the pony, kick the can, hide the belt, ringoleavio, tag, army, and the fondest memories included building a go cart in the garage. The pride we had rolling that baby onto the street is unmatched in todays children. They would rather buy one. I remember playing skully all summer long. There must have been 40 kids on my block on East 35th street. We made our board with a screwdriver when the tar softened from the summer heat. The rain never washed away our board. I remember the black knees, the worn out middle finger nail, and the extentsive efforts at finding the best cap we could find. Sometimes a kid would show up with what he thought was the cap of all caps, only to find out that it didn’t do the job on the court. One never knew until they actually played the game. Those were the fondest days. The long hot summer nights, the families on the sidewalk in the folding lawn chairs watching the Mets on a black and white TV with a coat hanger as an antenna. (dont forget the aluminum foil) Kids running around with jelly jars catching lightning bugs until “rocky” the ice cream man showed up. The stoop was an institution. We had nothing, but we were rich in that we were never bored. My kids tell me they are bored all the time. We give them so much, that we never let them learn to value things. It’s sad in a way. I loved my life on the streets in Brooklyn in the 1970’s. Thanks for this web site
We played stickball everyday during the summer months on the asphalt sofball field at P.S. 133 in Bellerose Queens in the early ’60’s. Lots of strikeouts, but, nothing like the no vibration feel of hitting the sweet spot of a Pensie Pinkie ball. When hit well it would either be a solid 1 -2 hop ground ball or fly over the fences. Hit over the 30′ high fence and landing into the handball courts in leftfield was a double. Hitting the back fence on a fly in the handball courts was a triple Over that back fence in the handball courts onto the street was a homerun. There simply was no comparison to hitting the Pensie Pinky. Sometimes the ball would glance off the end of the bat and distort itself which caused it to seemingly slowly come off the bat and stretch itself out and you’d never know what direction it would go when it finally hit the ground. Pensie’s also kept their subtleness better when left outside for long periods of time as opposed to the Spaldeen. Pensie was the way to go.
I still have a 1966 pimple ball. We used two driveways for boxball in case we got chased from one or there was hanging wash in the way. Our stickball field was a bank parking lot behind Castor Ave; homers had to cross the lot and the street. Handball was played at recess and lunchtime at Carnell. For Deadbox, we put an extra cork in bottlecaps for added weight and control. We called manhunt “wolf”; kids on my street today play the same game and call it “freedom.” Running bases was for all the kids (including girls) of all ages, not just us “athletes.”
I grew up in South Boston “Southie’ and the white pimple ball (circus ball) was more expensive 15 cents and desirable than the pinky (pennsey?) 10 cents. Circa 1960. We played fast pitch stickball against a brick wall with a chalk marked strike zone and a short field. We played slow ball stickball in a bigger parking lot. Both ways meant some broken windows. Also played handball and “hin-do” to us was a “hin-da” Local accent of course. (Hindrance) We also used the pimple ball for “scrub”, previously referred to as punch ball and another game, “off the steps”. Finally, halfball when the pimple ball lost its bounce. Pinkies were rarely, if ever, used for halfball, and were a poor substitute for all the other games. We also scoured all the flat roofs we could get on and did all we could to get the balls out of the sewers. All and all great memories. You handball guys from NYC must remember Paul Haber, boy, kill shot king. He used to do exhibitions against the local talent at the L Street Bathhouse.
had a flashback to playing behind snyder high school in jersey city, nj……i did hit a shot toward right field that hit the 2nd floor of the high school…..in my minds eye it was a tape measure shot that was on a par with mickey mantle’s tape measure blasts…..i was a little guy at the time maybe 10 yrs old……but it was a shot to be proud of and had it not been obstructed by that wall i wonder how many sewers it would have traveled……so take that cowboy! and a few yrs later i hit one off my friend pablo behind p.s.#9……a shot to straight away center field…..cleared the fence and landed in the lot that ran along the tracks near what was then railroad ave i think it was called
yo! man i miss the old stickball days…….i grew up playing on myrtle ave in jersey city, nj during the 70’s…..i was never any good at basketball but put a stick in my hand and i was quite a hitter (or so i thought)……so many memories i can recall….breaking windows, ladies yelling out the window for us kids to take the game down the street b4 we break a window……having water thrown on us, still wish i knew who did that, nearly getting hit by cars…..those were good days ………….i still got a stick in my closet for old times sake…….we played the game with the spaldeen pitched underhand and you had to hit it on the first bounce……never reached the 2 sewer level (still got skinny arms) most of my shots were inside the park jobs…….my longest shot i can recall got caught on the fly by this kid named cowboy…..knew him for yrs and don’t think i ever knew his real name…..he was always cowboy to us…….once in a while i’d get “lucky” and spot a spaldeen in a sewer….i didn’t mind the sludge and the stench getting on me if i could get at the spaldeen floating down there……it was worth it…..why go buy one when you could get one in a sewer or climb onto a roof and retrieve someone else’s? finder’s keepers
God i love this forum……brings back so many memories of growing up in the 70’s……i’m from jersey city, nj…..loved stickball to death……still got a stick in my closet…..i miss hanging out on my friend tyrone’s stoop…..just watching all the neighbors…talking about them behind their backs etc….i remember one night i was hanging out on the stoop way past curfew and my mom came over and cracked me on the head in front of the guys…..boy did i hear about that one for a long time