For as long as I can remember, much of my childhood as well as my teenage and high school years, and really, a great deal of my adult life found that Sundays in the Spring were spent up at School #46 holding Softball practice with, among others, my Dad and brothers as well as Dad's best friend Jack and his three sons, John, Tommy and Mark.
As early memories recall, I can always remember being the first ones to the field. My dad NEVER was one to be late. Contrary to that of course was Jack, who always pulled up to the field just a few minutes before practice was to start, his car trunk popping open before he even came to a complete stop so he could grab the baseball bats and softballs he kept in his green army bag for practice. And he always parked facing the wrong direction, on the wrong side of the street!
When we were younger, practice never really appealed to us all that much. We seemed to find more enjoyment skateboarding or riding our bikes around the empty school parking lot trying to do jumps out of the dips and ramps. Or, if we were feeling adventurous, heading over to the playground and see which one of us could jump off the swings the furthest, or, even jump off at the highest point possible. It's a miracle we didn't sprain more ankles or break any bones thinking this was the "cool" thing to do.
Of course, without fail, we would always manage to find our way back to practice just as it was ending. Just in time to take a couple of swings ourselves. While I am sure the Dad's were anxious for a refreshing Beer after practice was over (Roman after all was always the keeper of "Beer drinking time" for practice), and despite not shagging any of the balls during practice, the dads always let us hit a few to them.
My Dad and Jack grew up together as Best Friends. And, as such, I can remember my Dad sharing some stories about his childhood growing up with Jack. Angels, they were not! But, as my Uncle Jim recently pointed out to me, the Devers and the Cregos always seemed to be more family than friends. And that certainly rang true each Sunday in the spring...
... Which then gave way to Friday night games in the summer up at Edgerton Park and then later Cobbs Hill. And again, early on, there was more interest in playing on top of the big dirt mounds behind the ball field, or, grabbing one of the softball bats, and heading to the field that was not being used right next to their game and starting up our own game of Homerun Derby. Or, seeing who could hit little rocks the furthest with the softball bats. Not one of our smartest ideas, or, as Jack would point out, just a little "Good Sperm, Bad Egg" moment on our parts.
Those Friday night games were then followed by trips down to the Lake for some food and drinks at Mr. Dominick's, the Restaurant that sponsored the team. And, while the parents would eat and mingle amongst each other, myself, my brothers and our other childhood friend, Justin Roome, along with John, Tommy and Mark would fight over who got to play the Super Mario Brothers video game. A cycle that would repeat itself most Friday nights in the summer.
And while Sunday's in the spring can best be remembered for Softball practice, and, Friday nights in the summer can best be remembered for games, each summer also brought about a weekend in the ultimate in Father & Son bonding: A train trip down to NYC for the weekend to catch a Baseball game. Just some of the Dad's from the softball team along with their son's. No girls! Although, a couple of exceptions were made here and there.
And the trip itself was simple enough. Catch the train from Rochester on Saturday morning around 7am. Get into NYC around 1pm. Check into the Hotel, freshen up, feed us kids, and, head to a Baseball game around 7pm (mostly a Yankee game, much to the contention of Tommy who is a Met's fan). After the game, a little McDonald's for us kids, and then the Dad's would head back to their rooms for the night. Or, so we thought anyways...
There may have been an instance where we may or may not have seen our Dad's leaving the Hotel (as we were given the Hotel Room that overlooked the entrance) and saw them return a bit later that evening.
John and Tommy would always be the ones to "keep an eye" on us kids. Of course, that may have been a little easier said than done. Any course of the night would involve wrestling matches, shaving cream fights, practical jokes on each other (something about putting someone's hand in warm water?), pillow beat downs, because they were never just simple fights, the ordering of PPV Movies, tee-peeing the front of the hotel from whatever floor we were placed on, dropping 3 liter coke bottles (filled with water) from our floor to the streets below and even tossing water balloons from those windows as well come to think of it. Needless to say, many of those Saturday nights turned into all nighters for us. But, of course, in the end, John and Tommy seemed to get the best of us in the form of atomic wedgies!
I suppose it was because of those weekend trips to NYC and attending those Yankee games that helped fuel my passion for not only Baseball, but, my love of the Yankees as well. Those trips to NYC provided a lifetime of memories that we always will have with our Dad's of which we will never forget. Outside of those trips to NYC for the weekend in the summer, it's impossible to forget going to Opening Day at the old Silver Stadium to watch the Red Wings play as well. Safe to say it, Dad and Jack managed to instill their passion and love of Baseball with us boys.
As we got older, it became a goal of all of ours to play a Friday night game with our Dad's, and for the Mr. Dominick's Softball team. It seemed that turning 18 so we would then be able to play couldn't come quick enough. Little did we know at the time that back when Dad and Jack were younger, they had set a goal themselves to one day play ball with their oldest sons. Well, not only did they manage to accomplish that, they managed to take it one step further. They managed to play ball with ALL of their sons!
Some of those Friday night games would have 4 Devers and 5 Cregos on the field at one time. Almost enough guys to field an entire softball team! And, just as much fun as it was playing those games, it was almost as much fun as passing the lineup card to the other team. Imagine the look on the other team's faces as they read through the names and saw Dever and Crego listed one after the other!
Of course, as we got older, it also meant that life would take us away from Rochester whether it was for school or for career opportunities. But, there was always something special about being able to come back home to Rochester and hopefully have a Friday night softball to play in. It didn't matter how many other leagues we played in, whatever else we did in life, there was just something about those Friday night softball games. And, it's easy to say it's because it meant we got to play baseball with our Dad's. How many other people get to say that? John, Tommy and Mark were the first ones to head off in their own direction. And, from time to time would make special guest appearances at the field. Those Friday nights when they would appear at the game were always something special too.
In 2005 I officially traded in the cold and grey of Rochester for the sun and warmth of Florida. And, while Family and Friends would always be missed, I knew that more than anything else I would miss those Sunday's in the Spring at School #46 and those Friday night games at Cobbs Hill.
As luck would have it, John's career path would take him to the Montreal Expo's/Washington Nationals Organization. For me, that meant that Spring Training would be held about an hour or so from where I was living in Orlando and it meant that I would get to see Jack for a game. Having now been retired, Jack himself traded in the cold Rochester Winter's for a warm Florida winter instead.
And so began our yearly Spring tradition. I would meet up with Jack at a little place called Mimi's Café for a bite to eat which was just down the road from the stadium. And, since he got preferred parking, I would just drive over to the game with him. For the next 2.5 or 3 hours we would just chat about life. He'd fill me in on the happenings with Tommy and Mark since I no longer would get to see them as much an we would share a beer together while taking in a little Baseball. Even if Spring Training was meaningless and didn't count, I always looked forward to those games with Jack. If my own dad couldn't be there to watch a game with, at least I could catch one with the man that I would see as a second father.
Regretfully, we missed out on last year's Spring game together. Fortunately though, I was able to take advantage of a last minute deal and head home to Rochester for a long weekend in August in which I was going home to say goodbye to my youngest brother John Jr. who was headed off to Dubai to live with his girlfriend. That also meant I was lucky enough to get in one last Friday night game with my Dad and brothers at Cobbs Hill. And with Jack.
Sure enough, just as I was warming up, I could hear that unmistakable voice of his calling out my name as he got out of his car that night. As was customary of our Spring Training meet ups, he greeted me with a handshake and a hug.
For my Dad, Jack was his best friend. But, for us Crego Boys he always meant something much more. Jack always had an affinity for greeting us boys, even our 30's as "kiddos". Even at 35 years old, there is something about him calling me Kiddo that always just felt right!
On Monday, January 13th, I had called to speak to my parents to see how their weekend was. I had even asked my Dad in that call if Jack and Margee had managed to make it to FL yet as I knew he had planned to be on their way after the 1st of the year only to find out that they had been delayed in their travels this year.
Nothing could prepare me for the call I would receive about an hour later informing me that he had suddenly passed away in his sleep. I am both shocked and in disbelief that he is gone. And while trying to find the right words to say, all I know is that he will very much be missed.
And I know I would love for the chance to have one more Spring Game with him. I'd love for one more "kiddo" from him and certainly would love for there to be one more Friday night game to go to!
To Margee - I am so sorry for your loss. Jack always referred to you as his lovely Bride and I know you meant everything to him
To John, Tommy, and Mark - No one needs to tell you guys how proud Jack was of all of you. Just this past Summer he couldn't help but brag about having a Son who worked for the Washington Nationals, another Son who graduated from Columbia, and a 3rd Son who was teaching at Harvard of all places. As he so proudly agreed, it was definitely a case of some "very good Sperm"
You guys were like brothers to myself, Scott and John growing him. Again, I am so sorry for your loss.
My thoughts and prayers go out to the whole Dever Family for your loss. The world certainly lost a great man. I just hope that God, and heaven for that matter, is ready for what is coming it's way in Jack. He most certainly will be missed!