Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Baseball


Huntington Park, where I watch a lot of baseball these days. (c) Robert C Trube

If you haven’t figured it out, I’ve always loved the game of baseball. While most people think of Youngstown first and foremost as a football town, Youngstown had, and from what I can tell, still has a vibrant baseball life that thrives on summer evenings.

There were Little Leagues when we were growing up, but for most of us baseball was played in our backyards until we were big enough to constantly knock the ball in a neighbor’s yard  (or break a window). In my case, we moved next to the old Washington School playground. The asphalt playground was hard on the seams of balls. Soon the cover would fall off to be replaced with a wrap of electrical tape. We didn’t always have gloves. No umpires, no parents. We worked out disputes on our own. Eventually we grew big enough to constantly hit home runs, which often ended up rolling down the entrance ramp of I-680. So the we found a bigger field, either at Borts Field or Kochis Field.

That’s as far as many of us got. I played a couple summers on a church softball team. It was fast pitch. We had a guy, Gary, who was pretty fast and wild, in life and as a pitcher. He was scary and I’m glad I never had to bat against him. He walked a lot of batters, hit a few, and, maybe good for a church league, scared the hell out of a lot of people more effectively than the fire and brimstone sermons.

Usually I played right field, which probably gives you a clue of my fielding skills. My last game was played at first base. I’m right-handed and ended up having a runner barrel into my left hand as I reached for a throw. Afterward, my left thumb was pointing in an odd direction. Coach came out and popped it back in place, or so he thought. I played the rest of the game only to find my thumb was busted. That was the end of my baseball career!

The most talented local players played in some of the Class B teams sponsored by local businesses. We used to go up to Borts Field to watch the games (and girls), running across the street between innings to Zitellos for a cold pop. While we watched, some went further. Youngstown produced a number of Major Leaguers over the years, many who can be found on this list on Wikipedia. One of the most famous was George Shuba who played for the Brooklyn Dodgers. He was the first National League player to hit a pinch hit home run during a World Series. He played in three with the Brooklyn Dodgers. But what he was most famous for was breaking the color barrier in professional baseball when he was with Montreal Royals, the Dodgers minor league affiliate, shaking hands with Jackie Robinson as he crossed home plate after hitting a home run, something not done before by a white team mate.

Shuba returned to the Youngstown area after his career. In 2007, Borts Field, where I played and watched so many games and where Shuba had also once played, was renamed the George “Shotgun” Shuba Field at Borts Park. (Shuba gained the nickname “Shotgun” for his powerful line drives to all fields.) He sounds like he was always a class act, who will be remembered as the guy from Youngstown who broke the racial barrier in professional baseball.


3 thoughts on “Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Baseball

  1. I loved baseball soooooooo much. I have great memories taking the train to Cleveland with my cub scout troop in 1962. My father gave me a whole dollar to buy a heavy felt pennant, bag of peanuts, hot dog and I begged a dime for a coke.I loved the Indians and still do 54 years later. I played organized little league behind Delp Lake Manor in North Lima. I was told that this nursing home was owned by Roger Maris’ brother. My two memories from that first year was learning to pitch to a tall batter with a mustache and picking up infield rocks as the tractor pulled the bed springs around the infield. My second year of little league brought me personal disaster. Following a neighborhood football tackle, my broken leg was later diagnosed as possible bone cancer. Fortunately, my 7″ tumor under my shin was benign and a cow bone was grafted.This was done at St. E’s hospital and I spent a week in the men’s ward. Dr. Bauer ( who eventually became the San Diego Chargers team physician ) told me I would never play sports again and I was crushed.My mother taught me to walk again and I was able to play in my last little league year earning a spot on the all star team as a pitcher. Pony league found me growing and uncoordinated and I rode the bench at 13.But thankfully I became an all star pitcher at 14.
    Controversy started my 16th year when I signed to play colt league for North Lima and I was encouraged to play for Boardman. North Lima protested and I had to sit the first 2 games out. By game 3 the furor died down but my first start as a pitcher was against North Lima and boy the swearing and catcalls made me nervous. Fortunately I pitched a 3 hitter and would make the colt league all star team.
    I wish I had retired then and there. My senior year at Boardman high, I and 5 other guys were kicked off the team which led to a sad year for the team. I happened to be the sports editor of the school paper and realized that the pen is mightier than the sword.In July 1972 I pitched for a Class B team and was brought in for relief with the bases loaded and no outs. To my relief, I was able to strike the side out. This was night ball and the stadium was right next to Polokas doughnuts. Wish I could remember the name of the stadium. Finally with my playing days behind me, some of my college buddies and I traveled to Municipal stadium in 1975 and screamed The tribe is alive in 75 as we watched played manager Frank Robinson homered in the ninth inning to beat the Yankees…I still sooooooooo like baseball.

    • Great memories, Daughn. I think the stadium where you struck out the side was Ipes Field. My wife grew up across the street and Poulakos was just down the road.

  2. We played baseball almost every day in the summer. Most of these were sandlot games on the far west side where we lived. We made out own special ground rules. No hits to right field if we didn’t have enough players to have someone play right field, for instance. The big trip in the summer for us in the 1950’s and 1960’s was the trip to Cleveland to see the Indians with the Youngstown Fire Department. For most of us, it was the only chance we had to see a major league game. The train would leave from the Erie terminal. We saved up our money to buy souvenirs of the Indians while at Municipal Stadium for the game. I remember we saw a victory over the Yankees. Jerry Kindall hit a home run in the bottom of the 9th inning for the win. Sweet memories.

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