Indians Memories

In February, 2011, the Cleveland Plain Dealer announced a “Most Unforgettable day at an Indians game” contest. The winner of the contest would receive a classic baseball signed by a bunch of Indian players from 30 or 40 years ago. The winner would also get 4 tickets for a game. And finally, the winner would get to throw out the first pitch at an Indians game. That was the prize I wanted most. Can’t imagine how I could ever get a chance to do that. So I entered three memory games. Right after I sent the third e-mail, a Plain Dealer reporter called me and asked which of the three entries was the one I wanted considered for the contest. He said, he was sure it was the “Nickel Beer Night” memory. I agreed. Figured if he liked my “memories” enough to call me, I might have a chance to actually win. When they started running “memories” three days before opening day, I knew I didn’t win. The four runners up would get four tickets to the game of their choice. But I wasn’t selected as a runner up. A couple of weeks before opening day, after the contest had closed, the Indians announced that the Plain Dealer would print a “memory” every day the there was a game. They would give 4 tickets to everyone who got their memory printed. A couple of days ago, I got a letter from the Indians with a voucher for 4 tickets to the game on my choice. I am thinking they might publish my “nickel beer night memory” on the anniversary of the riot. That would be June 4. Today I thought memories would be a blog. Then I decided to add one more.

Tough to pick my "most unforgettable day at an Indians game" outa of hundreds over the last 50 years. Here goes. Nickel Beer Night, June 4,1974. About a month before the game, I bought tickets for the game. For myself and my best baseball buddies, Jim and John Anderson. The team was lousy that year. Good tickets were easy to get. I got upper deck first row seats in section 23, directly behind home plate. Perfect ring side seats for the show. Didn't even know about the cheap beer until a couple of days before the game.
We expected the usual crowd of 8,000. Happy to see the big crowd of 25,000. The lines to get the cheap beer we huge, so we just bought bottles of beer from the vendors. The game was a typical Indians ass whipping....Texas up plenty. The crowd was very restless, very drunk. When that young man took off his clothes and ran across the field, I peed myself laughing. A big fat cop was chasing him. No way was he going to catch him. The streaker threw his clothes up into the stands, climbed in and disappeared. Hardest I have ever laughed in my life. Then another streaker ran across the field. This time the cops were ready and they grabbed him. Then people started climbing out of the stands and onto the field. The cops were so heavily outnumbered, they could not control the unruly people. There were people standing along both sides of the outfield. The Texas bullpen, down the right field line, was filled with people. Then, the Texas pitcher ran out of gas and the Indians started to score. But Texas couldn't warm up a reliever. The before the next inning started, some jerk grabbed Texas' right fielder Jeff Burrough's cap. The Rangers flew out of the dugout, armed with bats and the riot was on. I was laughing so hard, no sound came out. Jim was furious that the Indians were gonna have to forfeit the game. He kept slugging me in the arm.....He's a powerful man, too. That made it even funnier. Of course the Indians forfeited. An ugly moment in Indians Baseball history, a most unforgettable game for me.

My "Unforgettable Day at an Indians Game" was May 26, 1993. Day game. Indians against Oakland. I was there with my 10 year old son, Joe, my Dad, Steve Fedak and good buddy John Anderson. Nice day. We had good box seats in the lower deck, down past the Indians dugout. Kinda boring game. As he often did, Dad was sound asleep when Indians journeyman Pedro Martinez hit a high fly ball to Oakland right fielder Jose Conseco. Incredibly, the ball hit him right on the head and bounced a good 25 feet back and over the fence. Home Run!! We went wild, laughing and cheering. Dad woke up. "What happened?" he said. A couple of weeks later at a party, I walked up behind Dad as he was saying,"... and it hit em right on the head and bounced right over the fence. Funniest thing I ever saw in my life." Right, Dad. (A couple of years ago, Joe pulled up the video of the ball hitting Conseco and going over the fence for me on the computer. Loved seeing that.

October 3,1993. A sad day for me. Last baseball game at Cleveland Municipal Stadium. I knew it would be the last game Joe and I would ever go to with my father. And there were dozens since Joe was old enough to go and a bunch before that. He died six weeks later, from cancer. I had four tickets way out in left field for the last three games. For the very last game ever, I took Joe (age 10), Dad and Mom’s brother, Uncle Rudy Novak. Rudy wasn’t much of a baseball fan. Pretty outspoken, grouchy old fella of 77. The reason I took him was, that as a boy, his “big brother” Uncle Louie Novak took Rudy to the very first game ever at Municipal Stadium, July 1, 1931. Thought it would be fun for Rudy to be there for the last game.
We got there at least an hour and a half before game-time. Before we even got inside, Rudy was interviewed and had his picture taken three times. He was loving it….we were all loving it. He talked and talked and we laughed and laughed. Very funny guy. Told a bunch of good, old time baseball stories we had never heard. The game was very boring. The Chicago White Sox shut us out, swept the last three games in the old stadium. During the game, Rudy got interviewed by his local Canton, Ohio newspaper and got his picture taken. I still have the article in the Canton paper with Rudy’s picture. I have some great pictures from that day. When Bob Hope sang, “Thanks for the memories” I cried, along with 75,000 other folks. Thank you for bringing back a classic family memory. Sincerely,

(I wrote this at least 15 years ago.) Monday, April 4, 1994. I had been unemployed for a while, after the Coke Plant had shut down. Dad had been gone for four months. I was semi-looking for a job and taking a class at Cleveland State. I walked over from Cleveland State towards “Indians Park.” The naming rights had not yet been sold to Dick Jacobs, Indians team owner. As I was walking, a ticket scalper offered me a ticket for $150. Later, another scalper said $250. A third scalper, near the stadium had two tickets for $500. I was prepared to pay $50 to $100. The atmosphere was festive. It was sunny and in the 60’s. A large television screen 30 feet by 50 feet was set up on the plaza between Indians Park and Gateway Arena (Gund.) I watched President Clinton throw out the first pitch of the game from the plaza, along with 5,000 others. After the second inning, I walked to the stadium gate by the Bob Feller statue to look at our Fedak family brick, in the pavement.
Suddenly, a short, Japanese lady, speaking broken English, came up and asked me if I wanted to go to the game. I told her I did but couldn’t get a ticket. She said she had been given a free ticket and didn’t want to go. She said I could have it. I was speechless, looking at the ticket. When I looked up, the lady was gone. I could have walked around the corner and sold it for $150. No way. I went right into the stadium. The seat was in a temporary bleacher in right center field. The group sitting there was the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra Chorus. They were all very nice. I sat there one inning, then walked around the rest of the game. It was a bitter-sweet day for me. I wanted to be there but I was missing Dad terribly. Joe very much wanted to be there with me and I very much wanted them both with me. On the way out of the stadium, people were trying to buy the used tickets for $25. No way. That night, my brother, Larry called from San Diego to see if I got a ticket. (It’s in a clear plastic commerative stand, sitting in the den, on the bookshelf. My most prized souvenir.)