More Kenosha Softball

This is the foreword from my second book, More Kenosha Softball. The current Kenosha Mayor Keith Bosman wrote it. He is also a member of the Kenosha Softball Hall of Fame.

Foreword

Kenosha, like a lot of cities in these United States, has always held sports activities in high regard. But, here in Kenosha, there was a time when the game of slowpitch softball enjoyed a popularity that could only be called “biblical.”

One could argue that the Golden Age of Kenosha Softball began in 1962 when Tirabassi’s Excavators won the World Industrial Softball Tournament in Pittsburgh. The resultant publicity from that triumph peaked the interest of ballplayers in Kenosha to the relatively new game of slowpitch softball. In the years that followed, players either wanted to play for Tirabassi’s or tried to assemble teams to compete with Tirabassi’s.

Slowpitch softball was an attractive alternative to playing baseball. Most baseball player’s careers were done certainly by the time they finished high school. Slowpitch softball did not require the ability to hit a curveball nor did it require a pitcher to throw a curveball. The version that used the 12-inch ball required many of the same skills as hardball, but it was a game that many more people had the level of skill to play and still enjoy the competition. Slowpitch softball was an opportunity for friends to get together and socialize and it only took one hour to play a game. Then it was on to the serious socializing.

For somewhere around thirty years, slowpitch softball was the game of choice for Kenoshans.

I had the opportunity to live through much of that era, from watching Tirabassi’s play in the ‘60s and reading about their tournament exploits, to playing hundreds of games and dozens of tournaments over a twenty-year career, from 1968 to 1988.

Paul Vagnoni has witnessed, firsthand, Kenosha Softball over the years. From his many years in the booth at Finney’s West and his long association with the 400 Club, he has direct personal knowledge of the teams and the characters that made up the Golden Age of Kenosha Softball. To his credit, he has taken the time to put his observations in this book.

More Kenosha Softball is not only full of times, dates, places and who won and who lost, but we also hear from many of the legendary players, managers, umpires and characters that made the era so special. This book will take a reader though a time in Kenosha when thousands of people were playing the game of softball on hundreds of teams. An era when there were as many as 72 teams were participating in the City Tournament and managers would have to get in line at the Recreation Department at 4:00AM just to make sure that they got a spot in a league.

It was a special time in Kenosha. Paul Vagnoni’s More Kenosha Softball chronicles that special time.

Kenosha Mayor Keith Bosman

More Kenosha Softball and Some Kenosha Softball are both available at RK News Hallmark in Kenosha, You can also purchase them by contacting me at 262 671-4251 or by email vag57@wi.rr.com.

Until next time…from the booth.

Remembering Things

The past couple of days I have been pondering and remembering various things in my life. You know, a variety of experiences - some pleasant and some very complex. But all of it tugged at my heart. During this deep thought, I was asked by a friend to find a certain blog I had posted.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the specific blog requested. However, I did come across a blog that sort of sums up the way I am feeling. And it made me smile. Smiling is good.

For two years I had been writing a “My Turn” column for the Kenosha News every 13 weeks. January 16, 2014 was my last column. Here is that column:

Simple Gestures Remind Us Of What’s Really Important

Tonight No. 1 Florida State takes on No. 2 Auburn in the BCS National Championship game. I suppose this means the holidays are now officially behind us. Hopefully everyone had a wonderful and fulfilling holiday season. Mine was special for a reason that I never expected. I never saw it coming. The holidays and especially Christmas have never been the same since my dad passed away on February 3, 2010. For me, besides the obvious, there has been something missing since then. It was something that I just couldn’t put my finger on; an intangible if you will. That is, until this Christmas. The Saturday before Christmas, Kenosha Softball Hall of Famer Jack Zimmerman came bearing gifts. Along with a large poinsettia and a huge gift basket from Tenuta’s, he also brought a dozen red roses for my mother. Zim has always been a charmer and evidently has a little Eddie Haskell in him. And he wasn’t done. The best was yet to come. As unexpected and gracious as those presents were, Zim blew me away with one final act of kindness. As he reached into his pocket, he told me that he checked with his mother and received her blessing. He then handed me an old baseball that had the following inscription: “6-30-1961 — Roosevelt Road 23 Kwik Kafe 0 No Hit, No Run Game Pitched By Jack Zimmerman” Zim told me that he wanted me to have this treasured little league memento of his because of what I had done for him. He told me how important I had become in his life. Moved by this heartfelt gesture, I wiped away the tears that were streaming down my cheek long enough to ask if he would sign the ball. After Zim left three hours later, it hit me. I finally knew what had been missing from Christmas for me since Dad passed away. It was a gift that I didn’t ask for or even need. Yet it touched my heart dearly. That’s what my dad was all about. Whenever you asked him what he wanted for his birthday or for Christmas, you always got the same answer — “I don’t need anything.” Until Zim’s unselfish deed, I never quite understood what he meant. Now I do. You really don’t need “things.” My dad was the greatest man I ever knew. He bravely served our country in World War II from age 19 to 21. People like him are the reason his generation is referred to as “The Greatest Generation.” He never intended to be a hero, but he was. And the most important thing to him was his faith. It was always the most important thing in his life. I so dearly miss praying with him in the morning. That is why I keep his rosary next to my bed. If Dad wasn’t touching you with his actions, he was doing it with a corny joke or that silly look that he inherited from his pop, my Grandpa ’Noni. Dad had an exceptional ability to express his love without uttering a single word. You just knew he loved you. It was a wonderful thing. I started this column by mentioning a football game. Years ago, Dad would often tell me to calm down when I would start hollering and stressing out while watching a Packers game. He would tell me that it’s not worth getting sick over, and that it’s only a game. Was he kidding? At the time, I couldn’t grasp his lack of passion. After all, it was the Green Bay Packers! I knew Dad loved the Pack just like I did; he brought me up watching them. I just didn’t get why he never seemed to get as upset when they lost as I did. Well, now I finally do. Dad, after all these years, I now understand there are other things much more important in life. Yes, the holidays are finally over. Jack Zimmerman’s no-hit little league ball is now in a protective ball cube on the shelf in my bedroom. And Dad’s rosary is still beside my bed. I will always cherish both of these items for different reasons. Now I get it.

*  *  *  *  *

Since I wrote that column, Jack’s mother joined my Dad in heaven. I know they are smiling down on their respective sons. They always got it; they knew what was most important - making people smile. Until next time…from the booth.

They Made Balls and Strikes Their Business

From my book, More Kenosha Softball:

Over the years, Kenosha has had a multitude of teams competing against one another. Some teams were very good, playing at a high level. There were also teams that were playing merely to justify getting together with the guys for a couple of beers in the middle of the week. Some teams were able to accomplish both. But regardless if a team was playing in the Classic League at Finney’s West or in the Continental Division on Tuesday nights in the city, all of them had one similarity. There was a common denominator. All of these teams needed umpires.

That is why I felt the need for a set of umpires to adjudicate the games being played by the Most Popular Kenosha Softball Team I Ever Saw. Here are the results from the poll used to select that duo:

Ernie Pascucci – 28%

Dick Cairo – 21%

Jerry Herrick – 17%

George Pflueger – 6%

Ron Soulek – 5%

George Becker – 3%

Jim Steinhoff – 3%

Don Newport - 3% 

Imagine that, Ernie Pascucci and Dick Cairo garnering the most votes! Kind of fitting. Why you ask? Here is an excerpt from Some Kenosha Softball that will explain why:

The #1 duo was Dick Cairo and the distinguished and colorful Ernie Pascucci. When Pascucci decided to cut back on the amount of games he worked, Cairo had to choose a new partner. His choice was long time Kenosha schoolteacher George Becker. With Cairo’s many years of experience and Becker’s “George Hamilton-like” good looks, Finney’s West had a new top crew.

It should be noted that Cairo will join Pascucci, Soulek and George Chromcik in the Kenosha Softball Hall of Fame on July 12. Not bad company.

If you would like to read more about the Golden Age of Kenosha Softball, you should read my books. Both Some Kenosha Softball and More Kenosha Softball are available at the Kenosha History Center and RK News. Live outside the Kenosha area? More Kenosha Softball is available online at Amazon.com. If you would like a signed copy of either book, contact me at (262) 671-4251.

Until next time…from the booth.

My Last Turn

For the past two years I have been writing a “My Turn” column for the Kenosha News every 13 weeks. Today was my last column. Because of the brutal weather, I’m not sure if and when it will be delivered; I decided to post it here. Also, many of you simply don’t get the Kenosha News.

             Simple gestures remind us of what’s really important

Tonight No. 1 Florida State takes on No. 2 Auburn in the BCS National Championship game. I suppose this means the holidays are now officially behind us.

Hopefully everyone had a wonderful and fulfilling holiday season. Mine was special for a reason that I never expected. I never saw it coming.

The holidays and especially Christmas have never been the same since my dad passed away on Feb. 3, 2010. For me, besides the obvious, there has been something missing since then. It was something that I just couldn’t put my finger on; an intangible if you will.

That is, until this Christmas.

The Saturday before Christmas, Kenosha Softball Hall of Famer Jack Zimmerman came bearing gifts. Along with a large poinsettia and a huge gift basket from Tenuta’s, he also brought a dozen red roses for my mother. Zim has always been a charmer and evidently has a little Eddie Haskell in him. And he wasn’t done. The best was yet to come.

As unexpected and gracious as those presents were, Zim blew me away with one final act of kindness. As he reached into his pocket, he told me that he checked with his mother and received her blessing. He then handed me an old baseball that had the following inscription: 

“6-30-1961 — Roosevelt Road 23 Kwik Kafe 0 No Hit, No Run Game Pitched By Jack Zimmerman”

Zim told me that he wanted me to have this treasured little league memento of his because of what I had done for him. He told me how important I had become in his life. Moved by this heartfelt gesture, I wiped away the tears that were streaming down my cheek long enough to ask if he would sign the ball.

After Zim left three hours later, it hit me. I finally knew what had been missing from Christmas for me since Dad passed away. It was a gift that I didn’t ask for or even need. Yet it touched my heart dearly.

That’s what my dad was all about. Whenever you asked him what he wanted for his birthday or for Christmas, you always got the same answer — “I don’t need anything.” Until Zim’s unselfish deed, I never quite understood what he meant. Now I do. You really don’t need “things.”

My dad was the greatest man I ever knew. He bravely served our country in World War II from age 19 to 21. People like him are the reason his generation is referred to as “The Greatest Generation.” He never intended to be a hero, but he was. And the most important thing to him was his faith. It was always the most important thing in his life. I so dearly miss praying with him in the morning. That is why I keep his rosary next to my bed.

If Dad wasn’t touching you with his actions, he was doing it with a corny joke or that silly look that he inherited from his pop, my Grandpa ’Noni. Dad had an exceptional ability to express his love without uttering a single word. You just knew he loved you. It was a wonderful thing.

I started this column by mentioning a football game. Years ago, Dad would often tell me to calm down when I would start hollering and stressing out while watching a Packers game. He would tell me that it’s not worth getting sick over, and that it’s only a game. Was he kidding?

At the time, I couldn’t grasp his lack of passion. After all, it was the Green Bay Packers! I knew Dad loved the Pack just like I did; he brought me up watching them. I just didn’t get why he never seemed to get as upset when they lost as I did. Well, now I finally do. Dad, after all these years, I now understand there are other things much more important in life.

Yes, the holidays are finally over. Jack Zimmerman’s no-hit little league ball is now in a protective ball cube on the shelf in my bedroom. And Dad’s rosary is still beside my bed. I will always cherish both of these items for different reasons. Now I get it.

                                              *  *  *  *  *
 
Until next time…from the booth.

Rewards of the Writing Process

The graphic is to illustrate the basics of the writing process. I chose this particular graphic because it illustrates the steps in a concise and simple manner. Planning, drafting, editing, revising and publishing—the one word conspicuous by its absence is “writing”. Kind of of ironic, huh? Sometimes writing just doesn’t get the respect it deserves.

Currently, I am in between the revising and publishing steps of the writing process of my second book, More Kenosha Softball. Today, the Publisher Lady and I finished putting chapter 4, “Rick Flocker, Speed Merchant” into book form. That makes a total of 28 pages complete. Only 19 more chapters to go…

This book has been a lot of work, much more than my first effort, Some Kenosha Softball. But you know what? It’s going to be worth it. In fact, it already has been.

I first realized this when Gregg Hansen made a comment on Facebook regarding how much time I had been spending on the book. He told me that he hoped that I am rewarded for all of my hard work. I found that very kind of Gregg.

It also made me think about the whole writing process. The more I thought about it, the more I recognized that this process was much different than with the first book—much different. And, it was also much more rewarding.

That is what I told Gregg on Facebook, that I was already being rewarded.

The first book I wrote was made up of a lot lists with several short stories. Most were very short. Each chapter averaged only 540 words. There were only three over 1,000 words, the longest being 2,143. By comparison, chapters or stories in my second book average 1850 words with six over 2,000, two of which are over 4,000 words.

Don’t get me wrong, I am proud of my first book, very proud. I learned so much about writing, about the writing process. That is why this second book is going to be so much better, because of what I had learned from the first.

The most important thing that I learned from the first book was the manner in which I gathered the information. I’m not sure which part of the writing process this falls in, maybe somewhere between planning and drafting. Wherever it fits in, I discovered it is a continual thing. It’s an ongoing part of the process.

Most importantly, this step is best done in person. That’s the rewarding part.

Having Jack Zimmerman sitting on the couch for two hours telling colorful tales about his wild playing days and then having him call me back the next day and sharing 45 minutes more going over what he forgot to tell me the previous day. That’s the rewarding part.

Meeting with Ernie Pascucci, Tom Blaziewske and Larry Keating to exchange old photos and newspaper clippings. Having my friend Bruce Meyers, who was also greatest ballplayer I ever managed, come over and spend the better part of a Thursday night reminiscing. That’s the rewarding part.

Talking on the phone with Kenosha Softball Hall of Famers Gary “Wizard” Petersen and Chuck Lange to hear their tales about the good old days. Speaking on the phone with young stars, Travis Clark and Mike Umscheid as they traveled to Michigan for a Major Level Tournament, so that I could get their view on today’s Kenosha Softball. That’s the rewarding part.

I’ll never be rewarded financially for all of the time and effort I am putting forth while writing More Kenosha Softball. I knew that going in. The average writer, actor, artist or musician is never compensated the same way an auto mechanic, assembly line worker, plumber or dental hygienist is. Sad, but that’s just the way it is.

What isn’t sad is all of the gratifying experiences that I had while engaged in the writing process. That truly is the rewarding part. Until next time…from the booth.