The Day I Met Mickey Mantle on 53rd Street

I met Mickey Mantle up close several times and none of them were pleasant.

Like all visiting American League teams, the hated Yankees of the 1950's stayed in Chicago at the del Prado Hotel on 53rd between Hyde Park Boulevard and the Outer Drive and across from East End Park.

Before we discovered the del Prado, we only knew the Piccadilly. We camped at the Piccadilly Hotel  corner at 51st and Blackstone around 4:00 pm to get autographs from our Chicago White Sox.  It was the ultimate betrayal in 1954 to chase after the enemy for their autographs, a decision I now deeply regret. We missed out on Al Kaline, Ted Williams, Jim Bunning, and Rocky Colavito.

By 1957 we were playing hardball at East End Park and finally in a moment of weakness headed across 53rd street when the Yankees were in town. Gil McDougald, Yogi Berra and Bill Skowron were all heart. As they made made the walk between the hotel and the team bus on muggy afternoons they  signed our autograph books. They knew we played ball. We wore our Converse All-Stars and baseball caps, we carried our gloves. We were covered with dust.

Everyone signed except for Mickey Mantle and Whitey Ford.

Prior to a night game in 1957, as they made a bee line for the team bus, a New York Times photographer yelled out to the determined Yankee Number 7, who wanted no part of us, "Hey Mick. How about a picture with the kids?" Mantle stopped abruptly, stepped back crushing my right foot, signed one autographe and stormed onto the bus.

The next day the picture appeared in the Times and I could be seen lurking behind the most loved and hated player of all time, at least in the pre-steroid era. The picture is lost.

We had no use for him and his home runs that crushed our White Sox, and this episode did nothing to endear him to twelve year old south-siders, or add to his usefulness.

After day games, while the rest of the Yankees signed autographs and chatted with the kids before heading to their hotel rooms, Mantle and Whitey Ford crossed to the north side of 53rd, and headed to a tavern just short of the steps leading up to the Illinois Central station.  We would tag along on our side of the street yelling at them.

"Hey Mickey, you wouldn't give ice cubes to Eskimos in the middle of winter." We really hated him.

Comments

[The Sconz]

Paul, I'm sure Jim Bunning would still be happy to sign an autograph for you. Just make sure you make clear you don't want the "senate" signature. Cause that thing's not worth a damn.

[Mike Anderson]

Paul If that pic made the paper you can probably find it in the microfishe at the Wis Hist Society, They have papers from all over the country

[R.J.]

Turn that hate into vengeful inner rocket-fuel...get a law degree, vow to fight all that is successful and desires to be left alone.