Cleveland's Finest. Vince McKee
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Cups, which was the minor-league equivalent of the NHL’s Stanley Cup. As DeLuca once recalled, “The owner of the team, Al Sutphin, was beloved by fans for his aggressive nature in trying to build a winning team. The Barons were so dominant that most people around the country considered them good enough to be the NHL’s seventh pro team. If it wasn’t for a longstanding feud between Sutphin and NHL president Clarence Campbell, the Barons may have been the seventh NHL team at one point.”
DeLuca remembered having to take streetcars from West 105th Street to Euclid Avenue downtown to see games at the old Cleveland Arena: “The cars had the old stove heat in them and weren’t very warm. We would try to sit as close as possible to the front to keep warm and not freeze.” Braving the cold of the streetcar rides paid off when he arrived at the famous arena in search of another Cleveland Barons win. He fondly recalled the packed lobby area where fans lined up to buy tickets, not to mention beer and soda. Soldiers who were home from the war would wear their uniforms to the arena, bringing their girlfriends with them. Going to games was a special occasion, and everyone would wear hats, men and women alike.
The Cleveland Arena hosted great events such as the Ice Capades, circus performances, area high school basketball championship games, and even Knights of Columbus track meets. It was a long, narrow hockey rink, regulation-size with stands that could comfortably seat 10,000 fans with another 1,000 fans standing. But with 90 percent of games selling out, it was always a packed house to watch the city’s favorite maulers on ice. A general-admission ticket to a hockey game cost $1.25, while a Grand Stand ticket cost $2.25. For those in the crowd who had the money to spend, a box seat sold for the hefty price of $3.25. DeLuca explained that most people at the time only made about $40 a week, so these prices were steep for the league’s best team. The atmosphere of the crowd was very different, however. “Back then just about everyone who went to a game would smoke cigarettes,” DeLuca detailed. “It was much more commonplace, and the arena officials saw no harm in allowing the fans to smoke in their seats. A thick haze of smoke would fill the arena to the point that you could barely see the scoreboard. The fans who didn’t smoke didn’t mind because they just wanted to be there and root on their winning franchise. Fans back then were such die-hards that it didn’t matter where they sat because they just wanted to be there.”
DeLuca rooted for all players but held the Italian-American players closest to his heart. He explained that, being Italian himself, it was only natural to root for them, with his favorite player being Ab Demarco. Because he had to attend school during the day, most of the games DeLuca went to took place on Friday and Saturday nights with the occasional Sunday-afternoon matinee. “People in this town loved hockey, and if it wasn’t for Jim Hendy buying the team and sticking a knife in the Cleveland hockey fan’s heart, it would still be around today,” DeLuca said. In 1948, the Cleveland Barons won the Calder Cup again in a four-game sweep over the Buffalo Bison team. As thrilling as the victory was, it paled in comparison to the wild ride the 1948 Cleveland Indians were about to take DeLuca and the rest of Cleveland on.
DeLuca’s earliest memory of baseball came from sitting on his Italian immigrant grandfather’s lap listening to Jack Graney call games on the radio. His grandpa would have a cloth hanky present at all times. When the Indians were winning, he would keep the hanky nice and smooth, folded neatly on his lap. When things weren’t going well, he would twist and bite on it in a sign of frustration and worry. Joe had three uncles who listened to the games with him—Prosper, Jimmy, and Rocco—who were New York Yankees fans because of Joe DiMaggio. It was important to DeLuca that he grew up as an Indians fan and make his grandfather proud, despite his uncles’ love for the dreaded Yankees. DeLuca was such a devoted fan of the Cleveland Indians that he would sneak into League Park on off days and ran around the bases. It wasn’t until then-groundskeeper Emil Bossard caught him and kicked him out that his fun ended.
In 1920, the Cleveland Indians won the World Series in seven games over the Brooklyn Dodgers. The series was unique in that it was actually a best-of-nine series. The amazing game five of the series contained the first World Series triple play, a grand slam, and a home run hit by a pitcher. Years later, the team’s owner, Bill Veeck, moved the team from League Park to Municipal Stadium. DeLuca’s uncle Rocco had a weekend job delivering soda pop to the Municipal Stadium. It was on these trips that young DeLuca tagged along, just to run out of the truck at each stop and catch a glimpse of the inside of the ballpark. Memories like these only increased his passion for the team and strengthened his support. Then along came the famed 1948 season.
During DeLuca’s junior-high years, kids who made all A’s were rewarded with sports tickets. DeLuca never won any, so he would trade different items with star students in exchange for their prized tickets. It never mattered to DeLuca that these giveaway tickets were always for games against lowly teams such as the Philadelphia Athletics and Washington Senators—he was just happy to be there. As he recalled, “There was a city-wide essay contest amongst Cleveland teenagers to decide who would be the visiting team’s bat boy that season. It was won by my classmate, Alan Broyles, from Audubon Junior High. It wasn’t so much that Alan was a baseball fan, more so just a really good writer, which drove his classmates crazy that he would win. At school, Alan refused to discuss the players he got to meet, which only increased the jealousy of his classmates for landing such a sweet gig.”
The Indians succeeded thanks to a new owner and a roster of great upcoming players, including the boy manager and star player Lou Boudreau. They boasted an amazing pitching staff led by Bob Feller, Bob Lemon, and Gene Bearden. They even had the first African American player in the American league, Larry Doby. The 1948 season provided incredible memories for the fans and players alike. “You could walk down the street at anytime and hear what was going on in the game because every store window and home had it on the radio blaring loudly. The excitement of Cleveland Indians baseball filled the air wherever you went,” DeLuca recalled.
Owner Bill Veeck was called a showman by the media and the rest of the owners in the league. He ran such promotions as free-nylon night to boost female attendance. Another highlight was free-TV night and even free-washer-and-dryer night. Veeck went as far to allow midget auto races on the field track due to high pressure from Cleveland’s mayor at the time, Thomas A. Burke. Veeck did whatever it took to get fans into his stadium and behind his ball club. His love for baseball started early in life when his father was the general manager of the Chicago Cubs. The young Veeck got his start by planting ivy on the walls of Wrigley Field at the age of just 15. Veeck would always make it a point to sit in the stands with the fans. He did his best to build excitement by relating to the fans as much as possible. He never wore a traditional tie and dressed in the same fashion as the average blue-collar worker in the mills. No matter where he went or what he did, he always carried a flair about him that sparked enthusiasm wherever he went.
The chance to play in the 1948 World Series came down to a one-game playoff between the Cleveland Indians and the Boston Red Sox. The beloved Indians traveled to Fenway Stadium and chose knuckleballer Gene Bearden to take the mound for this crucial game. Red Sox manager Joe McCarthy made an odd choice in Denny Galehouse, who had won only eight games that season, to start. On the strength of Ken Keltner’s incredible game, in which he clubbed three hits, including a three-run home run off the famed Green Monster, the Indians cruised to victory and a trip to the World Series.
It was also on this day that DeLuca and his classmates discovered that their principal and teachers actually were normal people: He was shocked when he arrived at school and heard the announcement from the principal that the game would be played over the loudspeaker. DeLuca and his classmates felt as if Christmas had come early upon hearing this unthinkable announcement. When the Indians won that game, all of the children ran out of the school building screaming in celebration. “Church bells were ringing and factory whistles blaring,” remembered DeLuca, with the last celebration of that magnitude having come in 1945 when World War II had ended. Later that evening, DeLuca’s parents tried to take him and his sister downtown to celebrate the victory, but they were unable to make it all the way there because the streets were packed with people celebrating. It was almost impossible for DeLuca to wait for the morning paper to arrive the next day and read the article written by his favorite sports columnist, Gordon Cobbledick.
The 1948 World Series was played against another team from Boston, the Boston Braves