Published: June 22, 2008 12:41 am         

‘All ballparks are beautiful’

There is a man who was tagged with what could be viewed as being an ominous nickname, depending on one’s line of work, by his coach of many years ago when the man played youth baseball as a boy. Last Thursday evening, the man stepped out of his booth with his family after finishing his dinner, and said to his old coach, who was sitting at the adjoining table in the restaurant, “Coach! Do you remember me? You coached me in Pony League. You used to call me Killer.”

Between glances at the Keno board and his crumpled Keno tickets that were providing him no satisfaction whatsoever, the former coach peered up through his glasses at this man — a man he had hopefully nicknamed for his hitting prowess on the diamond — and sure enough, it was Killer, prompting the coach to let out a hearty laugh.

Killer, who is now a grown man, told the coach how much his guidance meant to him as a youngster. He told him how much he had enjoyed playing baseball — winning baseball — for him as a youngster so many years ago. Killer shook his coach’s hand and thanked him, wishing him a pleasant evening, then walking off with his family, leaving the coach to sound a heavy sigh and to flash a smile as wide as a knuckleball catcher’s target.

“I coached so many kids for 21 years that I sometimes don’t remember them all,” the coach said. “But when they come up to me and tell me who they are, I recognize them and it really makes me feel good.”

On Thursday, the former coach sat in a Cumberland restaurant, taking his chances on Keno, enjoying a good meal, and talking baseball with eight members of his large family. The talking baseball part of the evening held added meaning for the former coach, because another one of his former players was at the table with him. In fact, this player was the best player he ever coached, and neither does this former player ever fail to tell his old coach just how much he means to him, and just how much he loves him.

That player is the former coach’s son, Leo Mazzone, and for a non-family member, who happens to love baseball more than any non-living entity, being invited to sit in on an evening of baseball talk with the Mazzone family was as wonderful as ... well, spending an afternoon at the ballpark.

Sitting at the table and talking baseball with the Mazzones, you see, is not unlike sharing dinner and talking family business with the Corleones. Everybody eats — if you’re not eating there is table-wide concern that you’re taking ill. At the same time, everybody talks — at the same time.

It’s nothing personal; it’s baseball.

Actually, it’s very personal. For to the Mazzone family, baseball is the family business; baseball is life.

On this evening, the conversation spanned six different decades, going back to the 1950s when Tony Mazzone, a former catcher, began coaching his son Leo and his friends in the Westernport little leagues and Pony leagues.

“You remember,” Tony said to his wife Maxine. “You washed all the uniforms for my teams.”

“You better believe I remember,” Mrs. Mazzone shot back from across the table.

Through the ’60s and ’70s Leo made his name as a left-handed pitcher at Bruce High School and in the San Francisco Giants organization (Ron Cey, by the way, is the best hitter Leo says he ever faced). In the ’80s he was well on his way to making his mark as the best big-league pitching coach there is for the Atlanta Braves and then the Baltimore Orioles.

The two-year stint with the Orioles, of course, did not turn out as anyone had planned, and Leo is currently working as one of four national baseball analysts for Fox Sports, and has several other national radio gigs as well. But while both of the Mazzone men are anxious for Leo to get back in uniform — “I’ve got all the schedules of all the teams out and ready in case Leo gets picked up,” says Tony — Leo is enjoying his work and taking everything in stride.

“It all happens for a reason,” said Leo. “During my two years in Baltimore, I had the chance to see my family a lot more than I ever have, and that was great. Let’s just see what happens.”

Tony, on the other hand, is ready for Leo to get back into uniform yesterday, as he recounted following his son all over the country — by car — through the minor and major leagues.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Tony said. “All ballparks are beautiful. That is one thing I know for a fact. They’re all beautiful.”

During the 1995 NLCS when the Braves were playing the Reds, the series shifted from Atlanta to Cincinnati and Leo told his dad he would be glad to fly him to Cincinnati.

“No you won’t,” Tony said. “I’ll drive. I’ll leave before you will, and I’ll get there before you will. It’s only 400 miles.”

And, according to Tony, “It was the most beautiful drive I ever took. The fall colors that day are something I’ll never forget.”

Nor is the World Series the Braves won that season something anybody named Mazzone will ever forget either.

“Winning the World Series,” Leo said, “going to five World Series, five All-Star Games, six Cy Young Award winners, nine 20-game winners and 14 division titles. The dreams of one nine-year-old have all come true.

“We won everything we can possibly win,” Leo said to his dad, using “we” to refer to both of them. “Not that we can’t do more, and we’ll try. But we’ve hit the jackpot, don’t you think? And we’ll find another jackpot, too, I’ll tell you that.”

On Thursday afternoon, Leo visited the ballfield on Maryland Avenue in Westernport, near where his son Nick just moved, and where The Tony and Leo Mazzone Baseball Odyssey began.

“First time I’ve been on that field at this time of the year in 40 years,” Leo said with a loud laugh. “Growing up here was the greatest thing in the world. I went through a lot of my old baseball stuff today at Mom and Dad’s house, and it was just awesome because of the wonderful memories they still hold for me.

“We realized all our dreams, didn’t we, Dad?”

As Coach Tony Mazzone turned his attention back to the Keno board, he said to his son, “We’re not done, yet.”

Contact Mike Burke at mburke@times-news.com.