Trafford Baseball Association

Story by Andrew Capets

The Trafford Baseball Association (TBA) was chartered in April 1967. In the late 1970s, there were not a lot of activities available for young people like we see today. Playing baseball for the TBA was something that just about every kid in my neighborhood was signed up to do. These are a few of my memories from those days, and I hope these recollections will trigger your own memories to share here. Admittedly, I was not very good at baseball, but my lack of talent never stopped me from experiencing many fond memories centered on baseball in Trafford.

It was about the age of 9 or 10 when I was introduced to organized baseball. There was something special about that first time squishing together on that bench, shoulder to shoulder, clutching an old mitt, and listening to an adult talk to you at eye level like no other adult had ever talked to you before. I played for the Trafford Pirates, and my first coach was Mr. Jim Chrise, my neighbor. I walked past Mr. Chrise’s house a hundred times prior to him becoming my coach, but this was the first time he ever got down on one knee and talked to me and my friends like this, face to face. He was talking to us in a calm and pleasant tone, sharing a new language to many of us, preparing our group to enter a rite of passage, a new world known as Little League Baseball. He was teaching us the game, sharing new jargon, and trying to keep our attention on the subject at hand. But, for a 10-year-old, he was really just keeping me from being distracted by the activity taking place over at the concession stand. Oh yes, the glorious TBA concession stand. In my Trafford baseball days, this reward came at the end of that grueling day’s work out. One can really work up a thirst for Cherokee red pop when learning how to run to first base, or taking turns sliding into second.

   
  Front row (L-R): Mike Cleland, Al Simmons, Andrew Capets, Joe Pettininato, Paul Earl, Ralph DiCesare.
Middle row (L-R): Dave Piecyznski, Joe Paola, Tom Chrise, player-6, Brian Solomon, Todd Rittko.
Back row (L-R): Coach Al Pieczynski (1936- 2017), Coach Jim Chrise (1938-2020), Ray Rittko. Photo courtesy Tom Chrise.
 

Sure, I had Josephic’s corner store on Homewood Ave after church, but let’s be honest, the red fish purchased from the quarter that was supposed to make it into Father Ackerman’s collection basket just didn’t have the same sweet taste as the ones you could buy at the TBA concession stand. Or maybe it was the whole guilt-free buying experience of picking out new types of candy with your friends. Buying the occasional piece of candy at Harlic’s Pharmacy with mom could never compare to browsing the candy selections with your Little League friends. I never recall Ralph DiCesare bringing up my dentist, Dr. Gates, in our conversations. Yes, Ralph was the candy connoisseur. Who better to consult with about Mike & Ike, Lemonheads, or Hot Tamales than your second basemen? On Ralph’s advice, I once opted for the flavored bottle caps and never regretted it.

  Trafford Pirates 1977  
  Front row (L-R): Brian Solomon, Sam Severino, Joe Pettininato, Paul Earl, Andrew Capets.
Middle row (L-R): Tom Chrise, Dan Wrobel, David Pieczynski, Al Pieczinski, Joe Paola, Todd Rittko.
Back row (L-R): Coach Jim Chrise (1938-2020), Coach Al Pieczynski (1936- 2017), Coach Ray Rittko. Photo courtesy Tom Chrise.
 
     
   
  Coach (L-R) Mr. Brennan and Mr. Bayko. Photo courtesy Mike Meinert
Top row players (L-R) Mike Meinert, Mike Capets, Joey Minicucci, Mark Brennan, Rocky Minicucci, unidentified-01, Bill Ondulich
Bottom row players (L-R) unidentified-02, Gary Ambrose, Tom Ondulich, Mike Sabo, Dave Peduzzi, unidentified-03.
 

As we got older, the speed of the pitch thrown by the players certainly heated up. I remember Tony Ference playing the catching position and taking a hard-foul tip to the neck (the neck shield was not standard issue at the time). I think the sting of that ball resonated with everyone on our bench.
My personal skill level never kept pace with the skill level of a lot of guys on our team. However, Mr. Chrise always knew how to get the best out of his players. He recognized the one thing that I could do really well, and that was to bunt. For some reason, I just couldn’t connect well with the ball like some of my teammates. But squaring my body to the pitcher, and placing my bat in the path of an oncoming projectile to prevent my chest from being hit, THIS I could do. Yes, I knew how to bunt, which really meant I managed to advance a runner to second or third base. I remember looking down the third base line to take the fake hand signals from third base coach, Mr. Ken Inglese, and then glance back to the bench to see Mr. Chrise using his secret baseball sign, both hands placed on the front of his belt, the signal to bunt. Even if tagged out, there was still satisfaction in getting a tap on the helmet by your first base coach Mr. Rittko, and then coming back to the bench knowing you helped Mr. Chrise put his runner into scoring position. Plus, it was also a chance to freshen up my Dubble Bubble.

One last memory about playing Trafford baseball. I was in right field, hoping the ball wasn’t hit in my direction, when a pop up fly came my way. I centered myself under the ball, anticipating that satisfying feeling of having it settle into the leather webbing, when the ball hit the bridge of the glove, bounced back into my face, and smacked me hard in the nose. A river of blood began flowing in the Trafford outfield. Dave Inglese, our centerfielder, did his customary job of backing me up and he fielded the ball as the play rounded first. I remember Mr. Chrise running out to the field and handing me his crisp white handkerchief. I can assure you; he never got his handkerchief back.

     
  Trafford Pony  
 

Photo 1980 courtesy Tom Chrise
Front row (L-R): Tim Molnar, Andrew Capets, Jim Freto
Middle row (L-R): Nick Petrucci, Dan Vecchio, Dave Inglese, player-17.
Back row (L-R): Tom Chrise, Todd Rittko, Mike Rabo, Jack Pastor, Pat Ference.
Coaches (L-R): Jim Chrise,Joe Prementine (1929-2009), Dick Ference.

 

My first coach, James “Jim” Chrise (1938-2020) passed away earlier this year. And while many will remember him as a successful coach, winning most of his games despite the skill set of his players, I’m certain it made no difference to him how well we played. He enjoyed coaching the game that he loved so dearly, and made a lot of great memories for an era of young men in Trafford. Cheers Jim.