Take Me Out to the Ballgame continued...

Years later I heard the story of how this sports icon sitting just four seats away had entered the profession. His name was Guiseppe. His father, and the fathers before him- for hundreds of years were fisherman in their home country of Italy. When Guiseppe’s dad moved the family to America he used the money he had saved working on the railroads to start fishing again in San Francisco.

Back then, if your family made a living from the sea, the kids- especially the boys, were expected to be part of the crew so some day they could carry on the family tradition. But it didn’t suit Guiseppe. The rocking of the boat combined with the smell of fish everywhere was more than he could handle without feeling sick. He did all he could to avoid those fishing duties to the disdain of his father, and earned the nick name, “good for nothing”.

Having raised four kids I know that you can damage a child permanently by feeding them such a brutal negative. And Guiseppe’s dad did it all the time. Even after Guiseppe started bringing money in for the family from odd jobs, nothing changed. Odd jobs were what lazy people did rather than solid work like fishing, according to Guiseppe’s father. He was still good for nothing.

This went on and to avoid the pain from his father’s constant criticism, Guiseppe would hide in the closet or under the bed, or sneak out the back door as his father came in the front. He’d play sports with the neighborhood kids for hours just to avoid the negatives from his dad.

Years of this took its toll and Guiseppe started wondering if his dad was right. Though he admired the tennis stars who came from San Francisco, and dreamed of being one of them, he didn’t stick with that either. It wasn’t until sinking to his low point that he found his true calling. Funny how so many success stories have that exact same low point before huge success. He became so much a part of his new profession, baseball, that he brought two of his brothers away from the family tradition of being fishermen to join in professional ball.

And there he sat, just four seats from us that summer day in Fenway. He was retired by then, and in the Baseball Hall of Fame. He didn’t use the Italian version of his first name anymore though. The American version fit the slugger much better. He went by Joe. Joe DiMaggio.