memories #9                                            

                                                    PLAY AT THIRD AVENUE

     1827 West Third Avenue!  That’s the address that would be my home during the third through the fifth grade.  It was during this time that my skills in football and baseball would be honed with help from my idol across the street and two twins that had moved to Durango from Silverton, Colorado.  Terry was in the sixth grade when I was in the third.  Terry was what I wanted to be like:  graceful, good-looking and an athlete.  Besides he was older and a Dodger fan.  That’s been my team every since that time.

 Mick with Jim Bonaventura

     Terry was joined by the Bonavantura twins, Jim and Dick who had moved from the small mining town of Silverton, Colorado to Durango.  They were small in stature, a year older than me and came from mining stock that was tough and ready to take on the world.  These two wouldn’t back down from anything.  What a crew we were!  Constantly into trouble.  

     I once threw a big rock at Terry when we were playing in some new homes under construction on the hill above our house.  It was just past sunset and we could barely see.  I hit him and heard him scream in pain.  I knew it wasn’t wise to stay around because if I hadn’t wounded him mortally, my life was in danger.  I ran.  Fast!  Terry arrived at our house slightly after I had gotten there with blood all over him.  I was so scared I peed my pants.  Head wounds bleed a lot and I thought he was going to die, but only after he had taken care of me first.  He survived, as did I,  and we continue to be friends.

Jim Robinson, Dick Bonaventura, Mickey, Ionne

     Most of the time any one could find the four of us playing either football or baseball on the front lawns of our houses.  The football games usually took place after supper and lasted well into the night under a couple of street lights.  Terry got even about the rock one night although not on purpose.  I had learned from my peers not to be a cry baby, to tough  out little hurts and continue to play.  Boy do we learn these manly things early.  

     In a rather rough game of football, Terry would strike.  Terry had one twin on his side and I had the other.  As he came toward me carrying the football, I made a diving tackle at his ankles.  I came up short as I caught the heel of his shoe in the mouth and then slammed my chin on the sidewalk that served as out of bounds.  My front teeth went through my lip when I made contact with Terry’s shoe and when I hit the sidewalk.  My bottom teeth went through my tongue.  I showed up at the front door of our house bleeding  rather badly. Terry escorted me home, making sure I was okay and left smiling.

sidewalk and curb of street are  boundaries

     During the summer I played my favorite game, baseball.  I had a natural talent for the game.  It came easy and I was constantly trying to get better.  When you do something well you want to do it over and over and I did.  In that same front yard where we played football, we became baseball players.  The Yankees versus the Dodgers.  Who else would we imitate during this time period.  The 50s were good for both of these teams with great names to try to follow.  Mickey Mantle, Jackie Robinson, Yogi Berra, Pee-wee Reese, and Joe DiMaggio were just a few.

Another perspective of the football field

     Terry and I would spend hours each day trying to get better at this game.  We would hit each other fly balls and grounders.  Both of us were left handed, so we had both had been taught pitching skills.  We threw batting practice to each other, sometimes coming dangerously close to beaning each other.  

     During one of these outings, I was fielding fly balls that Terry was hitting to me.  The narrow front yard would only allow me to come up for shallow fly balls or run back for deeper ones.  Both of these took skill and dexterity.  I especially liked to turn my back to Terry and run down a deep fly ball with my glove outstretched and having the ball land securely in my glove.  I made fun of Terry one time insisting he couldn’t hit it past me.  Terry gave a mighty swing and connected solidly.  I turned and gave chase to a high, well hit ball that was way above my head.  My eyes never left sight of that ball and I knew I would have to run my fastest if I were going to catch it.  Going full speed my whole body came to an immediate stop.  A crunching stop!  A stop that left me hurting from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.  I had run in to a big elm tree.  My glove went farther then I and had a better chance to catch the ball without me.  Terry ran to see if I was all right.  Finding I was ok, he beamed, “Want to try again?”  Looking at the tree trunk I said, “No thanks. If I want to travel I’ll take my own trunk”.