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Posted

I love reading about basketball legends and do not mean the NBA hall of famers. I mean guys like Earl Maniguat and many others that never made it, but are still legends at their sport. I would love to hear about locals legends, from the tri-state. I once heard a story, that several backed, about a guy that hit a softball home run at old Vater’s field across 27 and hit the gas station that once stood there on the fly. I wasn’t there, but several have attested to this actually happening. Do any of you know play ground legends from the area that never made it ‘big,’ but are still talked about? I thought it might be a fun topic. I hope made the idea clear and we can have some fun with it.

Posted

I have seen the ball hit across 27 and bounce in the parking lot ,hit the canopy of the gas station,at old vater's ballpark. My brother in law did this. He stood 6'4" -300lbs, very athletic guy. Hit many out of the park there back in the day. Sadly he's no longer with us. He was a local "legend" for a while.

Posted

As kids we played our own invented version of Nerf Kickball in my friend Kevin's rather small backyard that also doubled as first and foremost a small half basketball court.

 

His two colored, white on bottom, green on top house lent itself to establish that kicking the ball in the green seats (a nod to Riverfront Stadium's green seats), was an automatic home run just as long as it stayed within the confines of his yard, and didn't land in the neighbor's yard.

 

Landing in any of the 3 surrounding yards, North, South, or West of his white picket fenced in yard was an automatic out, and whoever did it was responsible for retrieving the ball.

 

Kicking the ball on the roof of the patio was also an automatic out that required Kevin to have to climb out of the 2nd floor window to retrieve the ball.

 

The offender was required to put a Nickel in the pot that ultimately would help pay for the next Nerf Ball when the one we were playing with had seen its better days.

 

His dad even approved the redesign of the fence on the backstop side of the field to be able to open and close a latched part of the picket fence to more easily be able to retrieve the ball through a gate entrance rather than have to climb over the picket fence that could at times wreak painful havoc if getting caught up on it.

 

The neighbors even approved the building of a few wooden steps to make stepping down into their yard more convenient after going through the redesigned gate. The only obstacle here was to avoid stepping in dog poop from the neighbor's old dog Sam. This gate and the steps proved beneficial for any game played in Kevin's yard where the ball might escape over the fence.

 

This Nerf Ball game was serious business with all my friends including keeping W/L records and HR stats on a blackboard he had safely stored from the elements in his covered screened in patio.

 

After an established amount of regular season games we yearly held the famed playoffs, and the World Series of Nerf Kickball. Kevin being the born athlete among us won this every year, and only once in a blue moon could someone beat him in a regular season game.

 

Because there was a basketball hoop in the yard, and while it was considered to be a huge feat that would likely never be accomplished, we had the presence of mind to establish that if anyone ever kicked the ball through the nets that it was an automatic grand slam.

 

And while it was likely never to happen, this incredibly amazing legendary feat was indeed accomplished one, and only won time ever by our famed pal Big John.

 

Though the actual day and year is in question, it was likely achieved roughly 45 years ago, and to this day is still joyfully discussed, and fondly remembered over a pitcher of beer or two.

Posted
As kids we played our own invented version of Nerf Kickball in my friend Kevin's rather small backyard that also doubled as first and foremost a small half basketball court.

 

His two colored, white on bottom, green on top house lent itself to establish that kicking the ball in the green seats (a nod to Riverfront Stadium's green seats), was an automatic home run just as long as it stayed within the confines of his yard, and didn't land in the neighbor's yard.

 

Landing in any of the 3 surrounding yards, North, South, or West of his white picket fenced in yard was an automatic out, and whoever did it was responsible for retrieving the ball.

 

Kicking the ball on the roof of the patio was also an automatic out that required Kevin to have to climb out of the 2nd floor window to retrieve the ball.

 

The offender was required to put a Nickel in the pot that ultimately would help pay for the next Nerf Ball when the one we were playing with had seen its better days.

 

His dad even approved the redesign of the fence on the backstop side of the field to be able to open and close a latched part of the picket fence to more easily be able to retrieve the ball through a gate entrance rather than have to climb over the picket fence that could at times wreak painful havoc if getting caught up on it.

 

The neighbors even approved the building of a few wooden steps to make stepping down into their yard more convenient after going through the redesigned gate. The only obstacle here was to avoid stepping in dog poop from the neighbor's old dog Sam. This gate and the steps proved beneficial for any game played in Kevin's yard where the ball might escape over the fence.

 

This Nerf Ball game was serious business with all my friends including keeping W/L records and HR stats on a blackboard he had safely stored from the elements in his covered screened in patio.

 

After an established amount of regular season games we yearly held the famed playoffs, and the World Series of Nerf Kickball. Kevin being the born athlete among us won this every year, and only once in a blue moon could someone beat him in a regular season game.

 

Because there was a basketball hoop in the yard, and while it was considered to be a huge feat that would likely never be accomplished, we had the presence of mind to establish that if anyone ever kicked the ball through the nets that it was an automatic grand slam.

 

And while it was likely never to happen, this incredibly amazing legendary feat was indeed accomplished one, and only won time ever by our famed pal Big John.

 

Though the actual day and year is in question, it was likely achieved roughly 45 years ago, and to this day is still joyfully discussed, and fondly remembered over a pitcher of beer or two.

Great story of when kids played outside. This country needs more stories like this.

Posted
Great story of when kids played outside. This country needs more stories like this.

 

Thanks Joe...I have so many really good childhood memories with the great bunch of childhood friends that I ran around with. I feel so blessed to still be in touch with many of them.

 

I failed to mention that the yard and house of the old dog Sam was the childhood home of none other than Mr. Dan Tieman, the treasured coach and teacher at Covington Catholic who also played professional ball for the Cincinnati Royals. Mr. Tieman would frequently be seen visiting his Mom and Pop, and cutting their grass for them with an old fashioned non-powered push mower.

Posted

Guy here in Frankfort, Byron Woodard (passed away several years ago). I didn't know him, but when playing basketball or softball or talking about local athletic Legends, people would always ask me if I knew him and then go into the stories. Evidently the guy could do about anything he wanted athletically, basketball, baseball, softball, run, jump, anything including evidently being an awesome ping pong player.

Posted
Guy here in Frankfort, Byron Woodard (passed away several years ago). I didn't know him, but when playing basketball or softball or talking about local athletic Legends, people would always ask me if I knew him and then go into the stories. Evidently the guy could do about anything he wanted athletically, basketball, baseball, softball, run, jump, anything including evidently being an awesome ping pong player.

 

I've heard stories about him from my buddy in Frankfort.

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