Steve Horlick and his stores

S. G. (Steve) Horlick was a prominent Ambridge businessman in Ambridge's early years, perhaps known as much--if not more--for his sponsorship of Ambridge sports teams as for his merchandise. Local historian Bill Bowan wrote on the reverse of one of the photos below, "Steve Horlick was one of Ambridge's most beloved fans of sports. He promoted athletics among the town's young people and was a great community booster."

Horlick had two stores over the years. Bowan didn't give the street address of either store, but said that Horlick's first store was between 4th and 5th St., "about 4th Bldg. from 5th." That was the store shown in the photo immediately below. Baseball scores are written on the window, and a big display of The Saturday Evening Post is featured in the center.

S. G. Horlick's store
probably 467 Merchant St.
circa 1915
courtesy John S. Dunn collection

Turns out, I know where the store above was located! A while back, I was reading about the first Pittsburgh Press Marathon race in old newspapers and was excited to find the Press news photo below.

"Ambridge Checking Station"
Horlick's store
Merchant St.
Pittsburgh Press
Jan. 30, 1909

Pittsburgh Press caption:

This picture shows S. Horlick's news agency at Ambridge where tab is being kept on the runners in the Press Marathon race as they pass through the town.

That 1909 marathon was from Rochester to Pittsburgh, so the race course came through Ambridge. A few weeks before the race, writer Gertrude Gordon wrote about her travels over the marathon course in the January 12, 1909, Press:

At Ambridge a checking station was placed at the store of A. G. Horlick, newsdealer. I spent a very enjoyable half-hour in his store, listening to a really good graphophone, and making friends with his huge white dog, Tige. Mr. Horlick told me everybody in Ambridge has been talking about The Press Marathon race. After a very good lunch, which we obtained in a little restaurant across the road from Mr. Horlick's, and as god [sic] a cup of cocoa as I ever have tasted, we boarded the splendid Pierce-Arrow and drove home in the snow storm, arriving here late in the evening.

I don't know yet if "A. G. Horlick" mentioned in the passage above was a typo or if a relative of Steve Horlick owned the newsstand in 1909.

(Note the Chinese Hand Laundry on the very right of the Press photo.)

The building was divided into two storefronts, and I don't know for sure which one was occupied by Horlick's store, but a 1911 Sanborn Insurance map shows the storefront closer to 5th St. was a "News Stand and Tobacco" business.

While the facade of the building has been altered over the years, the location of Horlick's first store still stands.

463 - 467 Merchant St.
March 30, 2014
credit: Nancy Knisley

The next photo shows the interior of Horlick's first store, dated circa 1913 by Bowan:

Interior Horlick's store
probably 467 Merchant St.
circa 1913
courtesy John S. Dunn collection

About 1915 or 1916, Steve Horlick moved his store to the southeast corner of "6th and Merchant Sts." Bowan describes this second store as a sporting goods and tobacco store with a gymnasium in the basement. He notes: "Horlick shared this bldg. with Ambridge Post Office*, later with Ambridge National Bank." Those two businesses were directly on the corner at 598 Merchant; Holick's store was one storefront south at 578 Merchant.

Here's what the intersection of 6th and Merchant looked like around 1920. Horlick's second store would have been in the right storefront of the building in the forefront on the left.:

500 block Merchant St. looking south from 6th St.
postcard
circa late 1910-early 1920s
Beaver County Historical Research & Landmarks Foundation

Sadly, I don't have a photo of the facade of that second Horlick's store, but here are two photos of that store's window:

National Baseball Week display
Horlick's store window
578 Merchant St.
circa 1916
courtesy John S. Dunn collection

"Special Display Window of Rose-O-Cuba Cigars"
Horlick's store window
578 Merchant St.
May 15, 1916
courtesy John S. Dunn collection

And here's a photo of the interior of the second store:

"Steve Horlick's Sporting Goods Tobacco and News Store"
interior
May 1924
courtesy John S. Dunn collection

Bill Bowan's note at the top says:
Dual Lighting System - Gas and Electric
Fosters Orchestra playing at Dance.
"Scaramouche" - showing at Prince Theatre

Here's the Horlick's ad from the 1924 Economy Centennial book:

S. G. Horlick ad
Economy Centennial Souvenir Program
Economy of Old, Ambridge of Today
1924

I've come across several old Ambridge postcards published by "S. G. Horlick" including the one of American Bridge featured in my August 23, 2016, post "American Bridge and Ohio River postcard, 1920s."

I'm still looking for more information on Steve Horlick and his stores. The only additional bit of news I've found so far comes from the March 11, 1929, Daily Times, reporting on a 4 A. M. fire at S. G. Horlick's "newsstand and confectionery on the street floor of a two-story brick building at 6th and Merchant sts." By that time, Horlick was sharing the building with Barrett Pharmacy, and he and his family lived in an apartment over the store. The article said that the fire was believed to have been caused by a lighted cigarette that had been tossed through a manhole grating, starting a fire in some wastepaper in Barrett's basement. The fire was confined to the basement which was damaged by the fire and water, but the rest of the building was filled with smoke.
_____

Also from the John S. Dunn collection: a photo of Steve Horlick's Ambridge Soccer team, circa 1905 - 06:

"Steve Horlick's Ambridge Soccer Football Team"
circa 1905 - 06
photo by Griffin Studios
courtesy John S. Dunn collection

Soccer team members listed:
1st row:
1. Frank Hulet
2. Joe Williams
3. Jock Sutherland
4. unidentified
5. Art Wardle

2nd row:
1. Jack Lothian
2. unidentified
3. Robert Rae

3rd row:
1. Steve Horlick
2. unidentified
3. John Bianchi
4. Wm. Brenner
5. unidentified

You can see a photo of one of Steve Horlick's baseball teams, "Our Boys," in my April 21, 2016 post "Group photo: Ambridge Our Boys baseball team 1919."

____

Thank you Maria Notarianni for scanning the John Dunn photos.

The building at 463 - 467 Merchant St. appeared to be empty the last time I walked by.  Over the years it was the Mayflower Restaurant, Saratoga Restaurant, at least two small groceries, and more recently, it was Bella Marie and G'lorenzo's restaurants.

The storefront at 578 Merchant St. was later the location of Katcher's Music and an early Katcher's Furniture store. After that, did that storefront become part of People's Service Drug Store and/or later Thrift Drug Store that were in the left side of the building, 598 Merchant?
_____

* I am confused by Bowan's note saying that Horlick shared the building at the corner of 6th and Merchant with the post office, since according to my notes, elsewhere, Bowan wrote that the post office moved from the corner of 5th and Merchant Sts., where it was located in 1917, to the corner of 7th and Merchant Sts., which is where insurance maps show the post office in 1923. I'll recheck my notes and Bowan's, plus try to find other sources to reconcile the conflict. 

Group photo: P. J. Cauls baseball team, 1925

P.J. Cauls baseball team
1925
courtesy Laughlin Memorial Library archives

Sorry, I have no information yet on the team or the identities of the players in this photo. If you know anything, please leave a comment.

The photo appears to me to have been taken at the field at American Bridge Company's Park Road park.

Group photo: Ambridge Our Boys baseball team 1919

Yesterday's post about the 400 and 500 blocks of Park Rd., mentioned the Ambridge Our Boys baseball team. Here's a photo of the 1919 team, the amateur champions of the Greater Pittsburgh Federation.

Ambridge Our Boys Baseball Team
Amateur Champions
Greater Pittsburgh Federation, 1919
Laughlin Memorial Library archives

Right now, I don't have the names of any of the players, but the September 11, 1920, Daily Times says that the manager was S. G. Horlick, and the team was "better known as Horlick's Ambridge club." That same article described the team as "one of the strongest and fastest independent baseball units in Beaver County."

Steve Horlick owned a sporting goods shop in Ambridge and organized and managed teams in several sports. 

The August 24, 1919, Pittsburgh Press says that the previous year, the team had played under the name "Ambridge Regents" and were The Press Liberty League champs.

Then and now: 400 - 500 block Park Road

The 400 through 700 blocks of Park Rd. have some of the loveliest homes in Ambridge. Once, they stood across from a park, owned by the American Bridge Company, that stretched from 4th to 8th Sts. Now, all that's left of the park is the 700 block, the location of a small playground and the American Bridge Co. historical marker.

The postcard below shows the northern end of the 400 block as well as part of the 500 block of Park Rd.

Postcard
400 and 500 blocks of Park Rd.
published by Ambridge-Economy News Co.
circa 1911 - 1912

Here's what those same blocks look like now:

Northern end of 400 block and 500 block of Park Rd.
April 16, 2016

As far as I can tell, the homes shown on the postcard are still there, although they've been painted colors different than shown on the postcard.

The row of saplings shown lining the park on the postcard may be the mature trees that now stand on the west side of Park Rd. They block the view of Park Rd. from the Ambridge Do It Best Home Center, which currently occupies the 400 and 500 blocks of the former park.

I'm not sure how old the card is. There is no postmark, but it has a divided back and was published by "Ambridge-Economy News Co." I have other postcards from the same publisher that are postmarked 1911 or 1912, so that helps to date the postcard to that general time-period.

 While the postcard wasn't mailed, it does have notes about Ambridge on the reverse:

reverse of postcard above

On the left hand side of the card, as best I can tell, the card says:

Between Park Road and the R. R. tracks along the river, is a big stretch of ground graded off into a sort of playground and park. This shows a little of it. Park road has area big bigs" or nearly all them. ARsv (not sure about that name? initials?)

The section of Ohio River Blvd. that now borders the west side of the former park, and separates it from the railroad tracks, wasn't built until 1945.

The right side, where the address usually would go says:

Athletics - Basketball
H. S.
Presby, Meth} Church Teams

Baseball
High School
Company team.
Our Boys - Ind.
M. E. Church

You can see other views of Park Rd. and the park in these blog posts:

American Bridge tennis courts, 4th Street and Park Road

Then and now: 600 block Park Road

Flutterball

by Robert Giles

Chuck practiced his new pitch for hours. He was always inventing something.

He called it the “Dying Swan”. My other brother called it the “Butterfly”. I remember it as the “Flutterball”.

It had a high arc like in slo-pitch softball. It was agonizingly slow. It did a little dance or jig as it descended chest high at the upper limit of the strike zone.

I may be entering deep water here, but there was something geekish about the way Chuck delivered a flutterball. He sort of tip-toed forward on the mound and held the ball in a loose slack-armed way and released it with just his fingertips. He turned his face skyward as the ball inched toward the plate.

I have to say that is the proper way to deliver a flutterball, maybe the only way. After all, Chuck invented the pitch.

I still remember the unveiling of Chuck’s new pitch in an actual game. By chance my brothers and I all were on the same team. We usually played six to a side. We only needed two neighborhood kids to round out our squad. I forget who had the honor.

The other side had the Stolar brothers, Dicky and Bobby, and Art & Bobby Floro. Rick Supak and maybe Tommy Pappas completed the opposing six.

That day it was pretty much the Giles Brothers versus the neighborhood – an alignment that may have occurred only on that one fateful day.

Six-sided baseball requires modification of the usual rules. The batting team provides the catcher – in this case someone unprotected who functions only to return the ball to the pitcher. The “no right field hitting” rule is invoked to eliminate the need for a second baseman and right fielder. (In the rare instance of a left-handed batter, the fielders shifted rightward and a “no left-field hitting” rule applied.)

Contravention of the “no right-field hitting rule” or its corollary resulted in an automatic out.

Back to the game. We were in the ninth inning and the Giles Brothers had a one or two run lead. So far Chuck had not employed the flutterball.

Just when we thought we had the game on ice, the neighborhood boys began to make a little noise. There were runners on first and second, and Dicky Stolar was coming to the plate.

Some of you may remember that Dicky lettered in three sports at Ambridge High School – baseball, basketball, and golf (I may be wrong about golf – maybe that was his younger brother, Bobby).

Anyway, to my memory Dicky Stolar (or “Rich” or “Fuzzy”) was the finest athlete to ascend from the ash of Byers Field. Art “The Hammer” Floro trails in second place (sorry, Art).

So there we were on the diamond in Byers Field, the batting team threatening, and Byersdale’s home run king at the plate. Even before high school, Dicky was an imposing figure (he was in seventh or eighth grade at the time of our game).

All of a sudden Chuck changed his delivery and threw a flutterball. Dicky swung way out in front of the pitch. Strike one.

Dicky recovered his composure by striking home plate several times with his bat.

He may have anticipated that Chuck would change up on him by showing some speed on that second pitch. If so, he miscalculated. Along came another flutterball. Another mighty swing. A second strike.

Dicky pulled his cap down on his forehead and rummaged in his pocket for a handkerchief. He stepped from the batter’s box to blow his nose.

This time he would wait as though set in concrete for that pathetic pitch to arrive in his power zone. “Patience, Strength, Discipline,” Dicky prayed silently.

In floated the pitch, fluttering softly although the air was still and breathless. A dust devil ascended as Dicky swung his bat.

The ball made a tiny “plop” somewhere behind home plate. Dicky had struck out.

A Catcher in the Raw

Wiki Images

by Robert Giles

It’s no wonder I became the catcher on my Little League team. One thing I could do well was catch a ball.

The list of baseball skills is not long – catching, hitting, throwing, running, and spitting.

That last item on the list has to do with mental alertness – spitting concentrates the mind and keeps a player “in the game”.  Do you suppose chewing gum does the same thing? Spitting and chewing are as integral to baseball as the shape of the field.

My manager, Bill, was an all-star spitter. He didn’t chew gum, just tobacco. He could work up a plug in nothing flat and hit a fly (not a fly ball, the insect) from six feet away. I’ve seen him do it.

I wasn’t allowed to chew tobacco. I bought Bazooka Joes from the concession stand. My spit was the color of Pepto-Bismol. I tried to be a bad-ass spitter like Bill, but my wads were never of major league caliber.

(I did chuckle at the little comics that were wrapped around the Bazooka gum – maybe I was just too green to be a good spitter.)

My hitting was as poor as my spit and I had an average arm and speed. There you have it – the complete reality check.

I am finally man enough to confess that I was no Roberto Clemente, although you would never catch “The Great One” spitting, or for that matter, chewing gum. His mind was always concentrated.

Back when I was nine or ten, baseball was my world. In January 1959, the Pirates had acquired Harvey Haddix, Don Hoak, and Smoky Burgess**. Finally the Pirates were a contender. In 1959,they finished in fourth place (remember there were eight teams in each league back then - fourth place was good). The following year they were World Champions.

My brother and I practiced all the time playing German Ball and Bird Dog. I got to be very good with a glove, even though my ambition was to be a pitcher like Vernon Law.

That year (1960) my manager handed me a package. What was this, a present? The season hadn’t even started yet.

“You’re my catcher, Bobby. Wear that – it’ll protect the family jewels."

I could see what Bill was talking about when I unwrapped my “present” – a hard plastic triangle with foam-rubber cushioning and tiny vents.

Oh boy, I get to wear a nut cup plus all the other “tools of ignorance”* - a mask, a chest protector, shin guards, and a big old catcher’s mitt. (And I get to wear my hat backwards.)

I came to be thankful for all that protection. I don’t know how many times a foul tip bounced off my mask or chest protector or an errant ball got between my legs. About the only thing that wasn’t safe was my throwing hand. You had to let the ball hit your glove first and then quickly secure it with your bare hand – in other words, keep your throwing hand the heck out of the way until the last instant.

In my second game, I felt a sharp pain and noticed right away that my little finger was dangling funny. Bill came out of the dugout to examine it. Bill’s diagnosis was as dead- on-target as his spit – he grabbed my pinky and gave it a pull. The joint popped right into place.

I crouched behind the hitter in my accustomed place and the game was once again, as they say, afoot.

Joey was our pitcher and he is the reason why our team was Little League champions for two years in a row. But Joey could be as vain and temperamental as an opera star.

Somehow Joey had it in his noggin that he was a major leaguer. He wanted me to signal the pitches – one finger was for a fast ball, two was for a curve, three was for a fork ball, four was for a change up. I forget what five fingers meant.

Joey was a big strong kid and all he needed was the one pitch that, in actuality, was the only one in his arsenal – a mean, hard fast ball from the mound, only forty feet from the plate. Everyone knew that we little kids couldn’t get the bat around on a fast ball. The easiest way to win was not to walk or hit anyone.

Very few kids could hit with power – the only power hitter that I knew had gotten too old for Little League the previous year (and there were rumors that he was too old even then – something about his birth certificate being altered).

I came from a large family and I knew how to get along with crazy people – I decided to “humor” Joey - join him in his fantasy.  I signaled for a fork ball.

What the hell – he’s shaking me off – he’s going to throw what he wants to anyway!

Why am I the only one who sees that ninety percent of life is plain ridiculous? I’m not talking just about now – I’m talking about when I was ten, eleven, twelve.  Maybe the sense of proportion gene is on the same chromosome as the catching a baseball gene.

I went on signaling for various pitches and Joey kept on striking out batters with his fast ball that whole season and the next.

Joey threw away his pitching arm by age fourteen but he did become a pretty good basketball player.

For me, the next level was Pony League. Baden didn’t have a Pony League back then. My Dad took me down to Anthony Wayne School to sign up for Ambridge’s league.

The man said, “Sorry, son, you’re too late. The signups were last week.”

The boys in my neighborhood pooled our money and bought catcher’s equipment so that we could play real hardball against the top of the hill and other teams. Once again I donned the “tools of ignorance”. 

I haven’t played baseball for about thirty years. In a year or two, my grandsons will be old enough. I can’t wait.
_____

*The tools of ignorance is a nickname for a catcher's protective equipment ... the usage was meant to be ironic, contrasting the intelligence needed by a catcher to handle the duties of the position with the foolishness needed to play a position hazardous enough to require so much protective equipment.  Source: Baseball - Reference.com

** For Whammy Douglas, Jim Pendleton, John Powers and Frank Thomas

Better than Perfect

by Robert Giles

Harvey Haddix of the Pittsburgh Pirates pitched what many think was the greatest game by a pitcher in major league history. On May 26 1959, Harvey retired 36 Braves in a row - no runs, hits, errors, walks, or hit batsmen - twelve innings of perfect pitching.

My brothers and I stayed up to listen to the game on the radio. Usually we turned it off about 9 o'clock. Lights out. Bedtime.

At nine, I was a few years younger than Chuck and Dave, my brothers.

That night the game had a different feel - Harvey was pitching a no-hitter.

"Let's just listen to one more inning."

"OK, turn out the lights."

"Turn down the radio. And be quiet, Mom won't know we are up." Chuck held a finger to his lips.

Along about the eighth inning, the announcer, Jim Woods, as casually as he could, said that Harvey was working on a perfect game. He didn’t want to say more - if he did, he'd throw a wrench into the works. Harvey would be jinxed.

It was difficult enough for Harvey as it was. The Pirates were getting plenty of hits but couldn't score. No one had gotten closer to the plate than Roman Mejias, who was thrown out at third base trying to stretch a double.

The villain in the piece, Braves' pitcher Lew Burdette, was also pitching masterfully. If you're going to give up twelve hits in nine innings and win, you have to be evil. Pitch around the hitters. Leave those  base-runners stranded out on first or second. Let the opposition hit some long fly balls for outs.

The ninth inning was over. The game was going into extra innings. Still perfect. The tenth, the eleventh, the twelfth. Still perfect. Still no score. Maybe we ought to say a prayer.

"Darn that Mejias. He should have stayed at second. We could have won if it wasn't for that bone-head."

It was midnight. We were wide awake. The tension grew with each out. It was the top of the thirteenth. Again no Pirates had captured home plate.

Felix Mantilla led off the bottom of the thirteenth for the Braves.

"Felix Mantilla, what kind of a name is that? Come on Harvey, put him away."

Mantilla hits a sharp grounder to Don Hoak at third. Hoak fields the ball cleanly. Easy out. No wait, the throw to first is short. Rocky Nelson can't scoop the ball out of the dirt. 

Mantilla has reached base. Until now, Haddix has pitched a perfect game. But he can still win. 

Oh no, the meat of the Milwaukee lineup is coming to the plate - Matthews, Aaron, and Adcock. With horses like these, no wonder the Braves have been champs for the last two years. 

Matthews executes a perfect sacrifice bunt. Mantilla is now in scoring position. Hank Aaron steps to the plate. 

The signal goes out to the mound - don't take a chance with this guy. First base is empty. If Mantilla scores, Aaron won't matter. Swallow your pride. Walk him.Harvey pitches wide four times to Smoky Burgess, the Pittsburgh catcher. 

Joseph Wilbur Adcock strides out of the Milwaukee dugout. Remember when Joe hit four home runs in a single game against the Dodgers a few years back?Joe takes the first pitch for a ball.

It was then that Harvey made his first mistake. He threw his trademark breaking ball, but hung it for an instant ... before Adcock slammed it over the 394 foot mark in right-center.

The game was over, right? One clean shot off the bat of Mighty Joe and we all go to bed.

Except ... I didn't feel like sleeping. I felt like crying.

The radio was still on and making confused noises.

Aaron had gone to sleep on his way to third and Adcock had overtaken him. That made Adcock out for overtaking the runner ahead of him. Aaron had then gone towards the dugout. No, wait. He had tagged up at third for some reason, then crossed home plate. Since he hadn't touched third, he went back to tag the bag. Milwaukee had won 3-0, no 2-0.

Wait a minute. Shouldn't it be 1-0, since Aaron had gone out of the baseline and therefore had made the third out? What if Aaron had made the third out an instant before Mantilla crossed home plate?

Instead of a home run, Adcock's blast was ruled a ground-rule double. It would take a team of lawyers to score that last half inning.

Sweet Jesus. Perfection itself was ruined by a throwing error on an easy play to third. And on top of that, Harvey and the Pirates were beaten by a ground-rule double. Tragedy had descended into farce.

O, ye gods and mortals!

The best baseball game ever played: Pirates vs Yankees, 1960 World Series, Game 7

I tell people in Baltimore where I now live, that I can name more players on Pirates teams in the late 1950s and 1960s, than I can current Baltimore Orioles, or for that matter, current players in all of professional baseball combined. I'm not necessarily proud of that fact...no, wait! I am.

My love of the Pirates of that era can be traced to the many evenings I spent with my grandfather on the front porch of our house, in the dark, him in his wooden rocking chair, me on the wooden porch swing, listening to the Pirates games on his radio.

Even with the occasional clanging of steel or the clatter of train cars, the night was quieter than the day was. And then, from the radio would come Bob Prince's rich voice, flowing through the darkness. I can still hear him calling the games, "Full count on Groat," and when the game went well, you could feel the excitement in his catch phrases: "Kiss it goodbye!" "How sweet it is!" "We had 'em all the way!" During the 1960 season, Prince got to unleash those happy phrases more than ever before. That season ended with a game that will be seared into my mind, and my heart, forever.

In the '50s, the Pirates followed one losing season with another, until 1958, when the team went 84-70. And they managed to scrape together another winning season the following year, narrowly, going 78-76. Then came the glorious 1960 season.

The Pirates were different that year, they were winning. Longtime fans were thrilled to have a team they could be proud of. Finally. And non-fans became fans, caught up in the excitement. Pittsburghers love to root for a scrappy, hard-working underdog, especially when that underdog is winning. The cry of "Beat 'em Bucs!" seemed to be everywhere. The team ended the regular season with a 95-59 record, winning the National League pennant, seven games ahead of the second place Milwaukee Braves. Fans were ecstatic.

But the joy of winning the regular season was somewhat tempered by the knowledge that the Bucs would be playing the elite, mighty, heavily-favored Yankees in the World Series. The NY season record had even been better than the Pirates': 97-57. Winning the American League pennant was routine for the perennially talented Yankees. This was the Yankees team with a lineup that included legends Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Whitey Ford, and Yogi Berra, plus two other MVPs: Elston Howard and Bobby Shantz. In comparison, the Pirates had season MVP shortstop Dick Groat, Cy Young award winner Vernon Law, and a young star-in-the-making, right fielder Roberto Clemente.

The Pirates didn't look great during the series. Although they won Game 1, 6-4, the next two games were Yankee blow-outs: Game 2: Yankees 16, Pirates 3; Game 3: Yankees 10, Pirates 0. In Game 4, the Pirates eked out a 3-2 win. Game 5 was better, with the Pirates winning 5-2. But then in Game 6, another Yankee rout: Yankees 12, Pirates 0.

And so, the Pirates reached game 7, out-pitched, out-batted, and outscored. But not out-supported by their fans.

The 7th game of the series was on October 13, a sunny, warm Thursday. I was in school when the game at Forbes Field started at 1 PM. I could barely sit still I was so excited. I drew pictures of pirate ships captioned "Make the Yanks walk the plank!" When school was finally over, and the school bus dropped me off, I rushed home to see if the game was still going on. And it was, barely. The game was already in the 9th inning. And the Pirates and Yankees were tied, 9-9.

My grandfather, along with my uncle, and my grandmother, who ordinarily didn't watch or listen to baseball games, were watching the game on TV. It had been a tense one, tension I could feel in my grandparents' living room. The Pirates had scored two runs in both the 1st and 2nd innings. The Yankees scored a single run in the 5th, but came alive in the 6th, adding 4 more. The Yankees scored 2 more runs in the 8th, but, wonder of wonders, the Pirates scored 5 runs in the bottom of the 8th! The Pirates were winning 9-7! But then, the Yankees dampened the Pirates fans' joy by scoring twice in the 9th.

I bet most Pirates fans were, like my grandfather, on the edge of their seat, leaning forward, tense, concentrating, willing the Pirates to win. I hadn't even bothered to sit down. I stood there, staring at the TV, not daring to move.

The first batter in the bottom of the 9th, Pirates second baseman Bill Mazeroski, stepped up to the plate. Ball one. And then, the second pitch. Maz hit the ball, hard. It soared over the left field fence. Kiss it goodbye! The game was over! The series was over! The Pirates had won 10-9! They were World Champs! My Polish grandfather was overjoyed and so proud of Mazeroski. "The Pollock did it!"

Forbes Field went wild as Maz rounded the bases, waving his batting helmet over his head. As he headed towards home, he was greeted by his teammates and fans, some of whom had raced after him as he ran from third. Much rejoicing ensued throughout Pirates-land.

This is what greeted fans on the front page of The Beaver County Times, October 14, 1960:

"THE BUCS GO ALL THE WAY", front page headline, Beaver County Times, October 14, 1960.

Front page photo, Beaver County Times, October 14, 1960, credit UPI Telephoto.

The text under the photo says:
THE FUSE - Accompanied by bug-eyed fans, Bill Mazeroski dances toward home plate with the winning run of the 1960 World Series. Moments later, he was surrounded by the fans and teammates, and thousands more, forming the reception committee around the plate. This was the fuse that touched off the wildest sports celebration in the history of Pittsburgh.

No game will ever top that final game for me. On that beautiful, wonderful October day, it was--and it forever will be--the best baseball game ever played. And I'm not the only one who thinks so: "The greatest game ever played" by David Schoenfield.