THE SEASON

"It's like deja au all over again" -Yogi Berra 1961 (Eric Winchock after our Little League state final loss)      "Hey Mo, got any more hits in that leadoff bat of yours?" queries Glen Gulyas from the back bench of a chartered bus on our team's trip to Mercer County Park. "As many as you do," I brag to cover my nerves, kneeling up on the high-backed seat to peer back at our clutch-hitting left fielder. "We should bet on it," he croaks with a laugh to mask his own stress over another state finals game. "Yeah, whoever gets fewer hits buys all the beer you can drink at Yankee Stadium," I blurt, hoping a little extra incentive would spur us both on. "Here's to that!" he laughs raising his baseball glove like a plastic cup of foamy Schmidt's.     Our first road trip in an air-conditioned coach was impressive, but the luxury of reclining seats and a smooth ride didn't feel like a good omen. We were missing the fa...

Former manager Doug DeGhetto        “So it’s Palisades Park for the final tomorrow,” growls balding former coach Doug DeGhetto from his stool in the dimly lit basement bar at the Rathskeller. “You’se guys better be up for it!” slurs diminutive bar mate Chubby Miranda glancing up from his stein.     The two middle-aged men were well into their cups when Matt, Seps, Stan and I ducked into the old pub to see if we’d be served. Our baseball team had made it to the state title game by thumping Keyport at home in the sectional final, rallying past West Windsor's all-state pitcher Darryl MacPherson for the district championship, and pummeling Palmyra's Cherry twins, Duane on the mound and Deron in centerfield, in the semifinals. The two-week championship run was a total team effort with all pitchers, hitters, and fielders and both seniors and underclassmen making significant contributions. Some of us were blowing off steam on a Friday night when sussed out by Chub...

Junior left fielder Glen Gulyas makes a play at LaMonte Field      “Hey Romanok, be ready to start at third against Ridge today,” murmurs Coach Martin in home room on a hazy Friday morning . “Izzo has to work.” “Sure Coach,” croaks the junior outfielder, masking his shock at being brought up from JV in a new position for the conference championship game. “I need your bat in the lineup,” bawls junior ace Sean Doremus from across the room. “My arm’s sore and we’ll need all the hits we can get.”      Our senior sluggers had carried us through most of that season in which we were averaging eight runs a game. As June arrived one of those big hitters had to leave the team for a summer job that would help his single mom keep their house when her cafeteria job ended. The understandable departure of third baseman Tony Izzo right before the most important game of the year seemed a devastating blow.      Enter the juniors. Outfielders Rob Corsini a...

Second baseman Gerard Ortepio makes another good play        "It's a good day to swing away," coaxes Coach Martin as our bus pulls up to the grassy expanse of Montgomery High School's new baseball stadium on a clear windy day in late May. "It's blowing out to left center," notes first baseman Mark Geisslinger after licking his finger and holding it up to the wind. "The righties will have a field day!"      After four wins in a row our confidence was growing as we faced the wealthy township bordering Princeton. A blue collar team like Bound Brook relished the chance to take the rich kids down a notch or two.       The team bus was heading south on Route 206 when manager Arnie Martin realized our number one fan Mr. Matthews was not behind us. He called for the driver to pull into an old country store and ran in, emerging a minute later with a huge grin and a jumbo pack of Big Red chewing gum. The baseball gods had started to favor the...

  Shortstop Veronica Gumerlock takes a pitch      "Tony!" squeals black-haired and tube-topped sophomore Patti Stine from the football bleachers along left field after our third baseman makes a diving catch and then leaps up to jam the tagging-up runner in the chest. "You saved my ass on that one," Sean Doremus grins as he snags Izzo's toss and steps back to the mound, a one-run lead preserved by the solo double play. "Finish 'em off, Sean," trills beautiful junior and future actress Heidi Bohay from behind our happy-go-lucky scorekeeper Sharon Barber as the next Watchung batter steps to the plate in the top of the fifth inning.      It was Sean's first start since a rotator cuff strain, and the rising heat of early June had loosened him up over the first four innings of the Somerset County championship game.  We'd already knocked off longtime rival Somerville, Group 3 Bridgewater East, and highly ranked Immaculata to get to the final.  Th...

Player-coach Tom Moriau       “Listen up,” booms Coach Martin wobbling down the center aisle of the Romano’s school bus heading east on Route 22. “I’ve known you guys since JV and you don’t need me calling the shots.” “Ye-goints, Arnie’s losing it,” whispers left fielder Glen Gulyas from the back bench to titters from others slouching nearby in various stages of pre-game dress. “Hey, no more back seat driver,” our manager continues, laughing along with the team as we approach the Roselle Park exit. “You have the experience to bunt or swing away, make plays in the field, steal or hold a base, and throw your best pitches.”      On the day before this crucial road game against last year’s conference champion there was a track meet at LaMonte Field. Our previous manager Doug DeGhetto would have insisted on playing baseball in the middle of the meet. Coach Martin instead caught catcher Matt Vischetti in the hallway by our lockers and called for practice at Memor...

  Starting pitchers Richard Jeskie and Sean Doremus      “Time to turn it over, Sean?” appeases Coach Martin holding out his palm for the ball with two on and two out in the bottom of the seventh inning at the Middlesex field. “My arm’s got one more out in it!” exclaims our left-handed starter brushing blond locks under his white mesh cap with red brim and front panel. “Sammy’s ready when you are,” proclaims our manager skipping over the right field foul line on his way back to the bench.     Long hair and cigarettes were the order of the day for rebellious athletes in the post-Vietnam period of the middle 1970s. The time when jocks played sports and freaks played pinball was morphing into a new and better era. Our two starting pitchers, senior Richard Jeskie and junior Sean Doremus, were good at letting that freak flag fly both off and on the field.      Most of early April had been rained out so the late month brought bunches of games each ...

Center fielder Gordon Barna       "Go big Red!" bellows a scruffy old man wearing a paddy cap and standing behind the Manville bench at LaMonte Field on a crisp afternoon in mid-April. "Bring em home, Barna," clamors Coach Martin with three quick claps, one for each runner on first, second, and third base.      Our tall center fielder Gordon Barna had been a clutch hitter since stroking several home runs in our Little League all-star championship run five years earlier. Gordon's jocular verbosity had gotten him into periodic fist fights with teammates, but his consistent strong play kept him in the starting lineup for Bound Brook football, basketball, and baseball.      Our western neighbor liked to beat Bound Brook about as much as we strove to topple the wealthy township schools of Somerset County. Manville was another industrial town on the banks of the Raritan River, though trading asbestos at Johns Manville for our aniline dyes at A...

Coach Arnie Martin       "Watch his move, Bates," booms diminutive manager Arnie Martin from the third base coaching box after I tap a drag bunt to start our second game of the season. "He does it in reverse," expounds first base player-coach Tom Moriau as I take my lead, planning to draw a throw or two from the Immaculata pitcher before stealing second base. "Back!" "Where did that come from?" I groan trudging to the dugout after being picked-off for the first time since sophomore year.      This was an inauspicious start to our first road game of the season against a top ranked team in Somerset County. Immaculata was a regional school that siphoned players from surrounding Catholic dioceses include the twin boroughs of Bound Brook and South Bound Brook. The players exuded a confidence that we Brookers interpreted as the arrogance of the privileged. We hated them.      As the lead-off hitter, I made a point of getting on base to start a...

Rob Corsini making a throw in front of the ivy-covered right field fence      “Hey Rich hey Rich, hum fire hum fire, hey Rich hum fire hum fire,” I chatter from shortstop as our lanky pitcher takes the stretch position to hold the Dunellen High School runner on third base with two outs in the top of the seventh and last inning. “All right Jeskie,” calls catcher Matt Vischetti pointing an index finger down toward the right-handed hitter’s feet. Hmph he groans delivering the pitch and the batter strokes a hard grounder to the left side of the soggy infield.        It had been such a rainy April that our opening day game at LaMonte Field had already been postponed twice. Much is made of the home field advantage and baseball statistics barely bear it out. The home team wins fifty-four percent of games, an advantage attributed to lack of travel, a home crowd, and batting second for a last shot at winning. What mattered more to us players was knowing the q...

Spring training 1976: Dave Beatty hitting, Tony Izzo catching      "Last call for you assholes," grins Frank Sylvester depositing a second pitcher on our round wooden table.  "How's it looking this season?" "They're loaded, Frankie," exclaims outspoken Stan Redwood, the only eighteen-year-old in our group of four baseball players and his red-headed, bespectacled self.  "The Courier has you guys fourth in the conference," scoffs our dapper bartender who also happens to own the South Brook Inn. "Hard to overcome no returning starting pitchers." "Jeskie and Sean had time up last year," bays brawny catcher Matt Vischetti in his third season as a starter.  "Yeah, and we've got ten players from the '71 state finals team," yawps designated hitter Mike Sepesi sloshing Budweiser all over the already beer-stained table top. "Hope your swing is more on target than your pour," Frank laughs tossing a dis...