I too am from the Ft Greene Projects born in Cumberland hopsital. I remember late spring/early summer was the season for Crack Top. I remember that we never played “stringies” you had to be able to pick the spinning top up in your hand and bring it over to the pot, if you missed the pot on the fly. Getting “color” from other tops on your top was a badge of honor.
I learned to play jacks at a two month summer camp in the Adirondacks in NY. It was so much fun, and we played as much as we were able, although we only had specified times for ‘play time’, the rest was regimented sports. LOL. The only place were on the porches of the main cabins, which were granite. We learned to be very careful. The girls from Cuba were experts, and I’m trying to remember all the game names. I do remember around the world, onsies, twosies, etc., and jumpsies (we were horse crazy). I’m glad to have found this group.
I went there for 2 or 3 summers in the mid 60’s. I do remember the Green Coke Bottles, I believe for a dime. I remember taking fencing class there, and playing dodgeball. The younger kids were in Indian tribes, I was in Iriquois and in Comanche, and then my last year I was in a Cowboy Group, Dodge City if I remember,but not sure of that. Fun time.
I didn’t grow up in NYC. Not even close. But one summer, 10 years back, stickball was a passion of mine. I grew up in PA. My brother, two friends, and I took broom stick handles or shovel handles and discarded and used tennis balls to play our passion that summer of ’95: stickball. We played on tennis courts at The Park where we lived. Home plate was the corner of the court where the lines met. There were no bases; it was more like home run derby. The man playing outfield was dubbed the “robber”. He was stationed in the doorway at the other end of the court where the third base line would have been, had we bases. He had to stay in the treshold there until the ball made contact with the stick. He then was allowedd to field the fly, and if he caught it, that was an automatic three outs. The other player was obviously the pitcher. We never really stressed strategic pitching, though; the competition was between the robber and the batter. You had to hit the ball on a fly out of the first court or it was an out. If you hit the ball into the next court with out it being caught, that was a 1. If it was hit into the next court but over the tennis net, that was a 2. If you hit the ball over the second fence, it was a three. And, if you were lucky enough to hit the ball up onto the “bumps” ( a steep hill containing a road at the top with speed bumps), which none of us , even the stronger ones, were ever able to do, then that was a six. My brother, the strongest, came closest. I am sure that those reading this wouldn’t agree in calling it stickball; it wouldn’t have the nostalgia attached to it that you or they know. I had my own version of stickball. And for the summer of ’95 it was a passion of mine and my friends that we will never forget: the smashing of the dry-rotted tennis balls; the day I caught a fly over my back with my left hand; the time when it rained so much that there were inches of water on the court; that fact that I was so tan that summer my skin could’ve passed for leather. Stickball to us was exhiliration. It was the reason we assembled at noon ever day. I didn’t have a job then, I was 16. I had a passion, though. It was stickball.
Ice Cream Throw Up! Our ice cream man lived near our neighborhood so at the end of the week, at the end of his run, he’d park his truck in the middle of the street and throw the unsold Italian Ice bars and ice cream bars high in the air while we kids would run to catch them (kinda like a bride’s bouquet). This was in Queens Village between Springfield Blvd. and Belmont Race Track.
Now;do you remember the lead bottom can you had to scrath off before you could pick up the johnny pump water,Chaulk was a given,to be used on sidewalks or placed in an old sock to hit somebody with.(now)this is all illegal—————Roof top tag many a friend died missing that roof,Parachuting across the tops of elevators in buildings,hitching a ride on the back of a city bus with iron roller skates,Tree tag only in the trees not on the ground,OH-BOY thank the Lord we are all alive. Danny Boy
I remember summers in my neighborhood and how we couldn’t wait for school to get out so we could spend all our time at the park! The park on the conduit in South Ozone Park was our place! Boy we really had fun there! We did everything there, we played handball until the wee hours of the morning when we were teenagers, we could sit on the benches and play chess or checkers on those tables that had the boards set right in them, I thought that was the coolest thing, you didn’t need to bring anything to the park just your bike and friends! I now live in Arizona and have lived in Utah for years and the first time I saw a park in Utah I thought how strange it was that there were no parks like we had and I felt sad that the kids were missing alot of fun! I long for those hot summer days sometimes when life was easier and all that concerned us was a good Pensy-Pinkie or spalding and if we could get to the park before the big guys so we could get a court.I loved growing up in New York and wouldn’t trade it for the world!
P.S. I forgot to thank you for this great website. When I remember skully/skelly, I also have fond memories of having fun outside on hot summer afternoons. I’ve e-mailed your site to my relatives spread out round the country so they may also enjoy this bit of nostalgia. Thanks again. Steve Brown Huntington, NY
I remember playing stickball (fast pitch wall ball against the school wall in the summer months from early morning until the sun set and we could no longer see the ball. Unlike most of the games played in NYC, those of us on Long Island that played usually used a tennis ball instead of a pinkee ball. The advantage of using a tennis ball was it couldn’t be hit as far. This was critical if you were playing on a small field. It was also great for pitching because the seams on a tennis ball are shaped exactly like a baseball and you can throw all of the same types of pitches (curve, screw, 2 & 4 seam fastball, etc). Actually, you can get a lot more movement on a tennis ball than you can with a baseball. One of the great things I remember about stickball was the ability to get a game going just about anywhere at any time. Our group of kids used to go from school yard to school yard and play against anyone who was willing to play. Those were some great times.