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By Vince DiPalma I was born in October 1949. It’s said we don’t remember the first five years of our lives. Obviously, I have no recollection of the 1952 and 1953 Brooklyn Dodger National League pennant winning teams.
My memory starts kicking in around World Series time in October 1955. For me, the Yankee domination over the Dodgers in the Fall Classic was a non-issue. These two teams were always on an even keel as far as I was concerned.
I guess you could say I never knew what it meant to be a long-suffering Brooklyn fan. The Dodgers won the World Series in 1955, the first year I had any recall of the Dodger- Yankee rivalry.
Growing up in the mid 50’s, I lived in the Ozone Park section of Queens. Ozone Park was a middle class neighborhood with a mixture of both white and blue collar workers. Virtually every one who lived there read the New York Daily News, the Daily Mirror and in the afternoon, the Long Island Press. Not many read the New York Times or the Herald Tribune as both papers were looked upon as being too upper class. Most Ozone Park residents were Dodger fans, since back in those days, the baseball team one rooted for in New York was determined primarily by geographic location, unlike today.
I can recall watching the Dodger games on WOR-TV channel 9, in glorious black and white. Before the game started, there was “Happy Felton’s Knothole Gang” and following the game “Talk To The Stars,” a show in which Felton would interview the most outstanding player on each team for that particular night.
Although I went to several games at Ebbets Field as a youngster, the one game that will always be etched in my mind was August 28th, 1957, Carl Furillo Night. I was seven years old, going on eight, and I will remember that night as long as I live. I attended with my family and I remember we had reserved seats by first base.
The on-field ceremonies had Vin Scully standing at home plate with Carl. A bocce ball game was taking place between first and second base and they showered Carl with gifts. The best gift of all was saved for the end of the ceremony when a spanking new white Cadillac was brought in from center field and presented to him. Forty years later in 1997, I was thrilled to obtain a live audio recording of the ceremony which I sent to Vin Scully as a gift. I also remember the Dodgers were playing the Cubs that night and a
21 year old southpaw by the name of Sandy Koufax, who went on to become perhaps the greatest pitcher of them all, was on the mound for Brooklyn.
My family and I left Ebbets Field early that night and I watched the remainder of the game on TV when we arrived home. The Dodgers won 4-3 in a 14 inning contest. Brooklyn still had an outside chance at the 1957 National League pennant by the time Carl Furillo Night took place, but age had already crept up on them and they finished the year with an 84-70 record and a third place finish, 11 games behind the pennant winning Braves.
Since my Dodgers won the World championship in 1955 and the hated Yankees came from behind to defeat them in 1956, for me the final tally between the two teams in post-game competition was Dodgers 1 and Yankees 1.
By the time I had any recall, Jackie Robinson was at the tale end of his career. He retired after the 1956 season. Young pitchers like Koufax, Don Drysdale and Roger Craig were just beginning to make their marks. A handsome young left fielder by the name of Gino Cimoli, whom the gals were swooning over, represented the wave of the future, and the Dodgers would play 15 of their home games in 1956 and 1957 at Roosevelt Stadium in Jersey City.
I missed the frustrating Dodger years in Brooklyn, the long-suffering years of the early 50’s when the Yankees dominated them and names like Billy Cox, Shot Gun Shuba, Billy Loes and Andy Pafko were commonplace. Back then, the idea of the Dodgers leaving Brooklyn wasn’t even a thought in the mind of any Dodger fan.
Those were sad but happy years, to use an oxymoron. Sad because Brooklyn fans knew that somehow the Yankees would always make them chant “wait till next year,” but happy because there was no talk of the team leaving Brooklyn.
1955-1957 were the transitional years. The team started showing signs of age, the roster began displaying the names of new players and even after the World Series triumph in ‘55, rumors of the Dodgers leaving town were beginning to surface. Despite all this, they were still my Dodgers.
On October 8th, 1957, the announcement was officially made that the team would be leaving Brooklyn for the greener pastures of Los Angeles. Even New Yorkers who weren’t baseball fans were stunned, not believing it would actually happen. Dodger fans could still root for their beloved team from 2800 miles away, but who would care? It just wasn’t the same.
In 1958, WOR-TV channel 9 made an attempt to fill the void the Dodgers exit from Brooklyn created when they televised the Phillie games back to New York. It was to no avail. The Brooklyn faithful weren’t interested. Then in 1959, WMGM Radio, the former Dodger station, aired the final few Dodger games back to New York when they were locked in a tight pennant race with Milwaukee.
Marty Glickman did the play-by-play, but again the Brooklyn fans didn’t seem to care. The damage was done. By 1960, all attempts to satisfy the once Flatbush faithful were abandoned. The Dodgers now officially belonged to Los Angeles.
Every once in a while, I toy with the idea of bringing a National League baseball team back to Brooklyn, making New York a three team town again, just as it was back in the mid 50’s. A Brooklyn franchise could have a hot rivalry with the Mets and both teams could engage in inter-league play with the Yankees. Then reality sets in. Ebbets Field is now a distant memory, giving way decades ago to the Ebbets Field Apartments. The team could not use the Dodger name since it’s owned by the team that deserted Brooklyn. Dodger staples like Pee Wee Reese, Jackie Robinson, Gil Hodges and Roy Campanella are long since gone and can never be replaced. What’s more, even WOR-TV channel 9 is now WWOR-TV. A different era, a different time.
Some things should be left to history, to be read about in yet unwritten texts. For scholars waiting to be born to explore and discover. To leave undisturbed in the vast reservoir of our most cherished memories. Remembrances of my Brooklyn Dodgers are stored forever where they belong, in the concrete portraits of my mind.
There they will remain undisturbed, until my last breath here on earth. My Brooklyn Dodgers forever.
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