Playing stickball on a Brooklyn Street was modeled after baseball, but the nature of the playing field carried with it some mutually umpired ground rules. The city storm water sewer covers were typically spaced far enough apart that one cover was established as home plate and the second cover was second base. The third cover was far enough away to be designated center field. The older players could often hit as far as “three sewers,” but few could hit past it. First and third bases were left and right at the halfway point between home and second, which made the infield a narrow, elongated diamond. Cars and buildings past certain points were in play, but a ball caught on a fly off either was an out. The games on 56th Street were fungo-type stickball, where there was no pitching; rather, the batter either bounced the ball one or more times before hitting it, or he simply tossed it in the air and hit it before it bounced on the ground. Contrary to some current stickball rules, grounders were permissible.
Stickball bats were usually sawed-off handles from broomsticks that had outlived their usefulness as brooms. The balls were either the more expensive pink spaldeens, a name derived from their manufacturer Spalding, or a cheaper imitation that quickly lost its shape or often split in half after a few good whacks; the choice was always economic, depending on which player had earned enough money to buy which ball. Players knew better than to ask a parent for money to buy playthings; whatever they wanted, they had to earn the funds to buy it.
With the exception of brother Allen, whose interests were elsewhere, the five remaining Nelson boys were all avid stickball players. The three older brothers, Bob, Warren, and Dick all played during the thirties and into the early forties, and the two younger boys Gene and Howie played in the fifties. Howie was the only lefty. The older boys played on a cobblestone street, and by the time the younger boys were ready for stickball, the street was paved with blacktop.
Rarely was there a shortage of players to get up a game of stickball, which usually took a minimum of fiver players per team. Often during the long summer days parents would gather together on the stoops of the tenement houses to become the cheering section for their sons’ stickball games. Bob and a neighborhood friend, Harry Anderson, became the two best stickball players on 56th Street. It reached a point where they were not allowed to play on the same team. Often they were team captains who chose their respective teammates one at a time. Harry was probably the best batter on 56th Street, and Bob the best fielder, though still expert with a bat. A frequent scene that took place during a typical 56th Street stickball game during the thirties had Harry Anderson at bat and Bob Nelson playing center field. However, Harry could hit well past the center field third sewer and onto Fourth Avenue. In order to give Bob a chance to defend Harry’s towering fly balls, Harry would wait until the Fourth Avenue traffic light turned red. Bob would wait for the 56th Street traffic to clear, and then signal the okay for Harry to hit. The waiting drivers on Fourth Avenue knew what was taking place. To cover better ground, Bob would stand in the middle of the intersection. Often Harry would hit the ball far enough that Bob would actually have to back up across Fourth Avenue to catch it. Once he did, he ran back across the avenue to the regular center field position, always acknowledging any applause from the patient drivers waiting to continue on their way with the green light. There was a mutual respect between stickball players and drivers. If traffic were coming up the street while a play was in progress, drivers would stop and wait the few moments it took to finish the play. Then the players would step back on the sidelines to allow traffic through, waving appreciation to the drivers for their patience as they rode by. Sometimes a driver would comment on the play, and the players typically responded with courtesy.
Occasionally a team of the best players on one street would challenge a team from another street to a game of stickball, and those challenges usually were backed up with money – a quarter a man. (To put that in perspective, the average wage – for those who actually had jobs during the Depression Thirties – was about $25.00 per week. At today’s rate that would equate to a teenager betting $7.50 a player.) Most players avoided the money games, however, because they usually ended up in a fight over a disputed play, and there were no neutral umpires to make play calls.
Following are a few excellent websites about stickball in Brooklyn. The first one even has cool stickball stuff to buy!
Stickball in Brooklyn (You can get stickball gear here, including a manhole cover mat!): http://www.newyorkfirst.com/store/display.cgi?cart_id=&product=037&floor=6
Stickball in Brooklyn (Daily News columnist’s recollection of the game. Great column and great reader comments): http://www.nydailynews.com/ny_local/brooklyn/2008/04/08/2008-04-08_old_brooklyn_stickball_memories-1.html
Stickball in Brooklyn (A well-done nostalgic site): http://brooklynboard.com/diary/diary.php?f=Stickball
Stickball bats were usually sawed-off handles from broomsticks that had outlived their usefulness as brooms. The balls were either the more expensive pink spaldeens, a name derived from their manufacturer Spalding, or a cheaper imitation that quickly lost its shape or often split in half after a few good whacks; the choice was always economic, depending on which player had earned enough money to buy which ball. Players knew better than to ask a parent for money to buy playthings; whatever they wanted, they had to earn the funds to buy it.
With the exception of brother Allen, whose interests were elsewhere, the five remaining Nelson boys were all avid stickball players. The three older brothers, Bob, Warren, and Dick all played during the thirties and into the early forties, and the two younger boys Gene and Howie played in the fifties. Howie was the only lefty. The older boys played on a cobblestone street, and by the time the younger boys were ready for stickball, the street was paved with blacktop.
Rarely was there a shortage of players to get up a game of stickball, which usually took a minimum of fiver players per team. Often during the long summer days parents would gather together on the stoops of the tenement houses to become the cheering section for their sons’ stickball games. Bob and a neighborhood friend, Harry Anderson, became the two best stickball players on 56th Street. It reached a point where they were not allowed to play on the same team. Often they were team captains who chose their respective teammates one at a time. Harry was probably the best batter on 56th Street, and Bob the best fielder, though still expert with a bat. A frequent scene that took place during a typical 56th Street stickball game during the thirties had Harry Anderson at bat and Bob Nelson playing center field. However, Harry could hit well past the center field third sewer and onto Fourth Avenue. In order to give Bob a chance to defend Harry’s towering fly balls, Harry would wait until the Fourth Avenue traffic light turned red. Bob would wait for the 56th Street traffic to clear, and then signal the okay for Harry to hit. The waiting drivers on Fourth Avenue knew what was taking place. To cover better ground, Bob would stand in the middle of the intersection. Often Harry would hit the ball far enough that Bob would actually have to back up across Fourth Avenue to catch it. Once he did, he ran back across the avenue to the regular center field position, always acknowledging any applause from the patient drivers waiting to continue on their way with the green light. There was a mutual respect between stickball players and drivers. If traffic were coming up the street while a play was in progress, drivers would stop and wait the few moments it took to finish the play. Then the players would step back on the sidelines to allow traffic through, waving appreciation to the drivers for their patience as they rode by. Sometimes a driver would comment on the play, and the players typically responded with courtesy.
Occasionally a team of the best players on one street would challenge a team from another street to a game of stickball, and those challenges usually were backed up with money – a quarter a man. (To put that in perspective, the average wage – for those who actually had jobs during the Depression Thirties – was about $25.00 per week. At today’s rate that would equate to a teenager betting $7.50 a player.) Most players avoided the money games, however, because they usually ended up in a fight over a disputed play, and there were no neutral umpires to make play calls.
Following are a few excellent websites about stickball in Brooklyn. The first one even has cool stickball stuff to buy!
Stickball in Brooklyn (You can get stickball gear here, including a manhole cover mat!): http://www.newyorkfirst.com/store/display.cgi?cart_id=&product=037&floor=6
Stickball in Brooklyn (Daily News columnist’s recollection of the game. Great column and great reader comments): http://www.nydailynews.com/ny_local/brooklyn/2008/04/08/2008-04-08_old_brooklyn_stickball_memories-1.html
Stickball in Brooklyn (A well-done nostalgic site): http://brooklynboard.com/diary/diary.php?f=Stickball
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