Aug. 18, 1967: Tony Conigliaro of the Boston Red Sox was struck in the face by a fastball in a game at Fenway Park against the California Angels.
Nearly 60 years later, one of the most unforgettable nights in Red Sox history is written about here – not to remind those with no desire to relive it, but to remember . . .
Someone born in Revere, who lived in East Boston before attending St. Mary’s (Class of ’62). He moved to Swampscott once he was on the Red Sox.
He had two brothers: Richie and Billy, who was a first-round pick of the Red Sox in 1965.
Billy was a Swampscott High kid. He and Tony even played together in the Red Sox outfield.
You don’t see that every day . . .
Back to Tony.
Someone signed by the Red Sox, as a 17-year-old lightning rod.
With today’s chatter about Roman Anthony – and rightfully so – it puts things into perspective. Anthony, 21, has a few years of minor league ball under his belt, while Tony played far less before entering the Sox lineup at 19.
Playing for Wellsville (New York-Pennsylvania League), in 1963, Tony hit .363 with 121 hits, 24 homers, and 74 RBI across 83 games.
Someone who smashed a home run in his first home at-bat during his rookie season.
Someone who reached 100 home runs faster than any player in American League history.
Someone who drove his red corvette and brought a larger-than-life persona to local high school and Little League fields, including the one at the Nahant Rotary more than once. No one forced him to go.
And someone still brought up in conversations 35 years after his death. He was 45 and living in Salem.
“Tony C.”
One heck of a ballplayer, of course, but so much more.
With his charm, good looks, and smile to save, he even cut a series of rock n’ roll singles during the peak of his baseball career. Not to mention, the 6-foot-3 heartthrob sometimes jumped on stage at nightspots.
The Surf in Revere – he was a highlight there, and wasn’t shy.
He also appeared in a movie, had a romantic side, and didn’t mind if you smoked around him.
But harder drugs? Those weren’t for him . . .
It’s no secret he liked to party – he was a kid, after all – but he stayed smart.
“He may have a bottle of beer in his hand, but if he finished one, I’d be surprised,” said Tom Iarrobino, a longtime friend and teammate of Tony’s at St. Mary’s.
And don’t let this off-the-field talk trick you into thinking he didn’t take the game seriously.
On top of training and eating well (although, he was an Italian-food lover, as his mother Theresa was a fabulous cook), he was especially competitive and didn’t like to lose.
Even as a youngster.
That’s around the time when he was playing in out-of-state tournaments (Pony League in East Boston) at age 13, capturing a Catholic Conference title and tying for another in the early 1960s, and playing American Legion for Connery Post 6 during the summer.
And in the major leagues, just look at when he smacked five hits against Minnesota and three homers during a doubleheader against Kansas City.
But he had so many moments. Who can count?
With all to admire, there was also his ability to move forward in the face of adversity.
He suffered a heart attack and lapsed into a coma, among other health issues.
Years later, the Tony Conigliaro Award stands strong. It was created by the Red Sox after his death, given annually to a player who best overcomes obstacles and adversities.
That was Tony C.
Was then.
Is now.
