A Tribute To the Mick: Part 2

This blog is a continuation of our previous blog. As we approach the 15th anniversary of Mickey Mantle's death, I've asked two more friends from childhood to share their thoughts and reflections about Number Seven. John DeSomma is a business man; Joe Killen is an architect.

Enjoy!

John DeSomma: As an eight-year old boy in 1956, I first heard of the Yankee star centerfielder, Mickey Mantle, and the fact that he won the Triple Crown, although I didn't quite know what that meant. I remember my dad talking about the World Series, Don Larsen's perfect game and a great catch by a player named Mickey Mantle to save the day. I decided I wanted to see Mickey play.

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, that June 23, 1957, when my dad took me to my first baseball game at Yankee Stadium. The Yanks were playing the Chicago White Sox in a doubleheader. My dad purchased tickets in the unreserved section of the lower deck by first base. It was tough for a young boy to see all the action from those seats, but I was happy to be with my dad and my first chance to see Mickey play centerfield. Well, he didn't let me down.

In the top of the first inning, Larry Doby hit a ball to deep right center and Mickey tracked it down and made a leaping catch at the wall to end the inning.

In the second game with the Yanks trailing 4-0 in the 9th inning, (after winning the first game) my dad and I moved to seats behind home plate with the "help" of the stadium ushers. There were two runners on base when Mickey came to bat. He was larger than life with those muscular arms, broad shoulders and a huge number 7 on his back. In that at-bat, Mickey hit a three-run homer, two thirds of the way into the upper-deck in right field. I couldn't believe that an individual could hit a ball that far, especially in a ballpark as big as the old Yankee Stadium. The Yanks lost that game but I was hooked for life on the Yankees and my new hero, Mickey Mantle.

Over the next decade, there were many thrills Mickey would give me. He won the home run title in 1958, and had a great World Series in 1960. After losing the Series to the Pirates that year, in the way that they did, I cried and later in life I heard that Mickey did, too.

The great home run race of the M&M boys in 1961 was, of course, the highlight of my years idolizing Mickey. That year I begged my dad to take me to the 4th of July doubleheader against the surging Tigers.

Again, we had great "Bob Uecker" seats in the upper deck behind the foul pole in left field. That double-header with the Tigers drew over 74,000, one of the biggest attendances in Yankee Stadium history. Unfortunately, Mickey didn't have a great day and even dropped a fly ball in the 9th inning of the first game that allowed an unearned run and did I hear it from my father. My dad was a huge Joe DiMaggio fan and he told me that Joe D. would have put that ball in his back pocket. That hurt!

Beating the hated Giants and the great Willie Mays in the 1962 World Series was especially satisfying as my cousins and I always argued who was a better ball player, Mantle or Mays, as well as which was the better team.

In 1963 Mickey hit that mammoth homerun off Bill Fischer, broke his foot the following month in Baltimore and came back two months later to hit a dramatic homerun in his first plate appearance back from the DL at Yankee Stadium.

1964 was a comeback year for the Mick, hitting 35 homers and finishing second in the MVP race. In 1965, I attended his 2,000th game as a Yankee.

Lean years followed, but in 1968, Mickey had one of the finest games since his prime. On Memorial Day, I attended a doubleheader against the Washington Senators. Mickey went 5-for-5, with two long homers in the first game, one a laser shot into the upper deck in right field. His last great game of his 18 year Hall-of-Fame career!

I was one of the over 61,000 people to attend Mickey Mantle Day on June 8, 1969 with my girlfriend Pat, who is now my wife of 39 years. I had never experienced feelings at a sporting event, like the ones I experienced that day. Waves of happiness, sadness and joy – all in one day! The nine minute standing ovation Mickey received is something I'll never forget. It still amazes me that you can have so much feeling, emotion and admiration for a person outside your family, but that was what Mickey Mantle's mystique did to me.

Mickey was my hero growing up. I didn't need to read comic books about a super-hero; I just had to turn on the TV every day from the Spring to the Fall and watched him live on WPIX Channel 11. When he did well, I was on top of the world; and when he failed, I sulked.

Every hero has his faults and weaknesses and so did mine. However, in looking back, Mickey's baseball greatness – playing through injury and pain each day – was an inspiration to me. Everyone needs redemption; Mickey found it in the last great inning of his life. I was personally happy to hear that through his friend and teammate Bobby Richardson, Mickey made a remarkable turnaround and found for himself that elusive peace and redemption he desired.

Mickey, thanks for the memories.

Joe Killeen: I was born January 8, 1948 in Hoboken, New Jersey. Hoboken, a town comprised of working class people, is situated directly across from the Empire State Building, separated by the Hudson River, almost in the shadows of Manhattan. As a kid growing up in the 1950's we played ball the kind city kids play on city streets: stick ball, whiffle ball, punch ball, hitting off the ledge ball, soft ball and hard ball… and I was always Mickey Mantle every time I got up to hit.

Tirelessly, I practiced switch hitting hours on end and played catch with friends at the beach or lakes making great catches like "The Mick" as my friend would throw the ball just beyond my reach…only to be tracked down the way Mantle did.

My first memories of "The Mick" were from my father; he was a staunch Yankee fan. By the time I was 10 years old, I would go to Yankee Stadium with my brother. I still remember walking up the ramps, catching glimpses of the large expanse of that wonderfully green field, as we made our way to our seats, which were usually in the right field upper deck. And then I would search for number 7; I love the number 7, I love how it looks, it is my favorite number.

Often, my brother and I would take the Hudson Tubes from Hoboken to 162nd Street in the Bronx, where we would walk to the front gates of Yankee Stadium, to attend the Sunday doubleheaders, which they played in those days. My mom would make sandwiches for us, and we would scream our heads off rooting for the Yankees, and especially for Mickey Mantle.

I vividly remember one special game I attended. "The Mick", batting right handed, hit a home run late in the game that hit the foul pole to tie the score. Then, a few innings later, hit one left handed off the foul pole to win the game. With a little research I discovered that "The Mick" hit switch hit homers in 10 games during his career, and this particular game I remember, most likely occurred on May 6, 1962 vs. Washington Senators in Yankee Stadium. By the way, the first homer was socked off Pete Burnside and the second was hit off Jim Hannan.

I have memories of staying up late listening to the Yanks play in California vs. the Angels…while my family slept, I had my ear up tight next to the radio speaker…the announcer, perhaps Mel Allen, described "The Mick" at bat. I could see it in my mind…he described Mantle taking a mighty swing and hitting the ball with such force in a line drive that just cleared the fence for a game winning home run…I was so happy as I drifted off to sleep.

The word "stoic" became part of my vocabulary when I read an article about Mantle where he was described in this term; I did not know what the word meant, but once I found it in the dictionary, it was mine and I wanted to be stoic, too.

I remember the 1960 World Series most of all, I was 12 years old and we had a small black-and-white TV; I watched every game I could. Mantle hit 3 homers in that series, and the games they won vs. the Pittsburgh Pirates were heavily lopsided in our favor; I thought we'd take this World Series. And here I must mention having my heart torn out of my chest as Bill Mazeroski hit a home run off Ralph Terry in the bottom of the ninth to win it for Pittsburgh – I was devastated for weeks – but "The Mick" hit 3 homers!

The tape measure home runs by "The Mick" reign legendary in my mind, especially the one where he hit the façade in right field off Pedro Ramos. For decades I kept that baseball card showing the trajectory. I wish I still had that card, and all the Yankees cards I collected so faithfully, especially the Mickey Mantle ones, of course.

I left Hoboken for college in December of 1967, never to return. "The Mick" retired March 1, 1969; our time together had passed, as did Yankee dominance. My childhood friend, Mike McBride, would recount to me in later years how he was invited to meet "The Mick" at his hotel room somewhere in New York City. I forget the circumstances, but that is what we all would have yearned for – I wished I were there too.

"The Mick" played baseball and left his spirit on the field for all to remember and appreciate. I am now 62 years old; "The Mick" died August 13, 1995 at the age of 63. Although I never met him, I will always hold those special moments dear to my heart, as inspirations from a special human being. Sounds and sights like Bob Sheppard announcing his name…or making a great catch in center field.

Every time I look out across that ballpark, or any field of green, toward center field, I see Mickey Mantle, number 7, grinning from ear to ear; he was a great teammate on my team for life.