Cheap Entertainment
by John Mooy
When the boys of Marcellus roamed the streets of town in the fifties and sixties, I’d have to say we were masters of creating cheap entertainment. And by cheap, I mean it didn’t cost us a cent. That seems to be a far cry from today when so much of the time occupied by youth centers on pieces of equipment (I don’t know the names) that comes with games played on a computer screen. I’ve heard the term game boy but I’m not certain what that is. I’ve also heard they are expensive but don’t know the price either. I do believe these “things” eliminate a certain amount of resourcefulness and creativity on the part of youth. MY OPINION.
Now back in the day during our money saving activities we had in the summertime the Rocky River was just a bike ride away. You could fish in the river, swim in the river which usually happened when you “accidentally” fell in, got soaked and thought, well, I might as well go swimming now.
We had an array of equipment that allowed us to participate in a variety of sports: football, baseball, and basketball were top priorities. Although there may have been an initial investment, once you had the equipment it lasted for seasons on end. I still have my first baseball glove in the basement.
An Andy Pafko model which could still be used today to snag line drives and make diving catches from an outfield position. Those catches would now have to be made by someone other than me.
Andy Pafko by Bowman Gum
Metropolitan Museum of Art, https://www.metmuseum.org/exhibitions/
Basketballs. I still have a few of those around as well. They were “bounced and shot” all over town, from the driveway basket at the Jones home to the gym, to the baskets at the Burchard’s and Cooper’s to the basket in my own backyard on Elm Street.
And then there was wiffle ball. Wiffle balls came at a price. I think fifty cents, packaged in a cardboard box endorsed by none other than Yankee great Whitey Ford. It was a white plastic ball with slots on one half of the ball which meant if you were throwing the ball you could make it curve, rise, and a host of other movements determined by where you placed your fingers on the ball prior to throwing. The perfect bat for this game was a bit tricky. You needed a broomstick handle without the broom on it which meant the bat was created when your Mother was not home and her broom disappeared. It was only with such a bat that on the right pitch you could really “get a hold of one” and send the ball deep into the outfield.
Photo from “Trouble With The Curve – The Nature of the Wiffle Ball” by John Smith, Huntington Wiffle League (http://huntingtonwiffle.blogspot)
I did something in our backyard which I though was rather creative. With a discarded can of shaving cream I found in the trash barrel, I was able to use it like painting device and put the dimensions on the side of our house which served as the outfield wall. As Tiger fans we were all familiar with Briggs Stadium, home of our beloved Tigers. With the shaving cream in hand, literally I painted in big numbers, 340 to left field, 440 to center field, and 325 to right field.
One of the hazards of this game is that after the ball, which was plastic, had been hit enough it cracked. This of course could be remedied by a piece of electrical tape. But one ball would last a long time before another purchase was necessary. Wiffle ball games could rage on for hours at a time on those lazy days of summer. And as I recall the rules of our games did not require you to run the bases, instead you had designated areas that that ball would land in, i.e., single, double, triple, and home run which would move the game and the imaginary runners forward.
And if you happened to be on your own for a while before the neighborhood gang got together you had a bike, a ball, a bat, and your glove. With just your ball and glove you could throw the ball off a wall and practice your ability to catch the ball or toss it onto the roof of your house or garage, wait for it to roll off the roof and try to catch it.
And after a days’ worth of entertainment…
With any spare change in your pocket, you and your pals could hop onto your bike, ride to Grace’s Southside Grocery and have an RC Cola, sit in the back of the store and watch the trains go by. At the end of the train was the caboose and if anyone was seated outside the back door to the caboose you could wave at them and most likely they would wave back.
Now who wouldn’t love a summer day like this.
Have a great week, Marcellus.
You’re the best. Let’s play ball.
I’ll be Al Kaline.
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