Pacman Fever
07-22-2013, 08:42 PM
Chris Sabo is one of my all-time favorite characters, too out-there to be believed. But he was real and the stories about him are even better than the on-the-field stories about him.
That he was elected into the Cincinnati Reds Hall of Fame is not surprising. He was always The People’s Choice, a blue-collar guy who always owned the dirtiest uniform, one with the knees ripped out. He was so down-to-earth you expected him to carry a lunch bucket out to third base and pull out a thermos jug for sips of black coffee between innings.
SOME OF MY favorite Sabo stories:
Sabo wore goggles when he played, making him look like a scuba diver who forgot his flippers. At the time, there was a dog on a Budweiser commercial that wore goggles and was named Spuds McKenzie. Manager Pete Rose never called Sabo Chris or Sabo. Always it was Spuds.
HE WAS RIDING a cab from the hotel to the ballpark in Pittsburgh and the driver was smoking. Sabo asked him to put out the cigarette and the driver refused, puffing even harder on his Marlboro. After asking the driver again to cease, the cabbie fired up another one. Sabo opened the back door and bailed out, while the cab was still moving and the meter was still ticking.
SABO ALWAYS WORE a flat-top haircut right out of the 60’s and all he needed was to roll a pack of cigarettes in his T-shirt sleeve to complete the image - but, as we know, he doesn’t smoke.
There was a time in an Atlanta mall when Sabo decided he needed a haircut and he asked the barber if he knew how to cut a flat-top. The barber assured him he did. But halfway through the haircut Sabo looked in the mirror and was not satisfied with what was transpiring. He leaped from the chair, tossed aside the drop cloth and stormed out of the shop, walking through the mall with half a haircut.
Sabo had an old car he loved. Wouldn’t buy a new one and said, “Why should I? I have a good car.” It was a Ford Fiesta sub-compact with 300,000 miles on it. One time his closest friend, Paul O’Neill, rode in that car,and to listen to the radio he had to hold the broken-off antennae out the window and high in the air to get reception.
ONE DAY WHEN I walked into the clubhouse Sabo was sitting there staring at the floor, a forlorn look on his face.
“What’s wrong, Sabes?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m depressed,” he said. “They’re trading all my friends.”
The Reds hadn’t made a recent trade and I asked, “Who’s that?” Said Sabo with a shake of his head, “Pauly.” That was Paul O’Neill, who had been traded the year before.
Sabo always arrived early on Sunday mornings and commandeered the clubhouse stereo system. What did he play? Metallica? Not even close. He played Frank Sinatra or college football fight songs, usually the University of Michigan, where he attended.
SABO once got into an argument with umpire Charlie Williams on a play at first base. Sabo argued too vehemently and was ejected.
Knowing Williams would be working behind the plate the next day, Sabo grabbed a magic marker and scribbled on the knob of his bat, “Charlie Williams sucks,” knowing Williams would see it.
SABO WAS NEVER happy with his bats and loved to rummage in an old storage room under Riverfront Stadium where there were scores and scores of bats. He’d find one he liked and use it.
That got him in deep trouble.
He used one of those bats one day and when he hit the ball the bat splintered and cork sprayed all over the infield. He was suspended for using a corked bat, but it wasn’t even his bat.
And who did it belong to? Rumor has it that it belonged to Hal Morris, but Sabo took the punishment and never threw Morris under the bus.
A team guy and a character. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.
http://mo.daytondailynews.com/blogs/content/shared-gen/blogs/dayton/cincinnatireds/entries/2009/10/08/they_dont_make_em_like_chris_s.html
That he was elected into the Cincinnati Reds Hall of Fame is not surprising. He was always The People’s Choice, a blue-collar guy who always owned the dirtiest uniform, one with the knees ripped out. He was so down-to-earth you expected him to carry a lunch bucket out to third base and pull out a thermos jug for sips of black coffee between innings.
SOME OF MY favorite Sabo stories:
Sabo wore goggles when he played, making him look like a scuba diver who forgot his flippers. At the time, there was a dog on a Budweiser commercial that wore goggles and was named Spuds McKenzie. Manager Pete Rose never called Sabo Chris or Sabo. Always it was Spuds.
HE WAS RIDING a cab from the hotel to the ballpark in Pittsburgh and the driver was smoking. Sabo asked him to put out the cigarette and the driver refused, puffing even harder on his Marlboro. After asking the driver again to cease, the cabbie fired up another one. Sabo opened the back door and bailed out, while the cab was still moving and the meter was still ticking.
SABO ALWAYS WORE a flat-top haircut right out of the 60’s and all he needed was to roll a pack of cigarettes in his T-shirt sleeve to complete the image - but, as we know, he doesn’t smoke.
There was a time in an Atlanta mall when Sabo decided he needed a haircut and he asked the barber if he knew how to cut a flat-top. The barber assured him he did. But halfway through the haircut Sabo looked in the mirror and was not satisfied with what was transpiring. He leaped from the chair, tossed aside the drop cloth and stormed out of the shop, walking through the mall with half a haircut.
Sabo had an old car he loved. Wouldn’t buy a new one and said, “Why should I? I have a good car.” It was a Ford Fiesta sub-compact with 300,000 miles on it. One time his closest friend, Paul O’Neill, rode in that car,and to listen to the radio he had to hold the broken-off antennae out the window and high in the air to get reception.
ONE DAY WHEN I walked into the clubhouse Sabo was sitting there staring at the floor, a forlorn look on his face.
“What’s wrong, Sabes?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m depressed,” he said. “They’re trading all my friends.”
The Reds hadn’t made a recent trade and I asked, “Who’s that?” Said Sabo with a shake of his head, “Pauly.” That was Paul O’Neill, who had been traded the year before.
Sabo always arrived early on Sunday mornings and commandeered the clubhouse stereo system. What did he play? Metallica? Not even close. He played Frank Sinatra or college football fight songs, usually the University of Michigan, where he attended.
SABO once got into an argument with umpire Charlie Williams on a play at first base. Sabo argued too vehemently and was ejected.
Knowing Williams would be working behind the plate the next day, Sabo grabbed a magic marker and scribbled on the knob of his bat, “Charlie Williams sucks,” knowing Williams would see it.
SABO WAS NEVER happy with his bats and loved to rummage in an old storage room under Riverfront Stadium where there were scores and scores of bats. He’d find one he liked and use it.
That got him in deep trouble.
He used one of those bats one day and when he hit the ball the bat splintered and cork sprayed all over the infield. He was suspended for using a corked bat, but it wasn’t even his bat.
And who did it belong to? Rumor has it that it belonged to Hal Morris, but Sabo took the punishment and never threw Morris under the bus.
A team guy and a character. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.
http://mo.daytondailynews.com/blogs/content/shared-gen/blogs/dayton/cincinnatireds/entries/2009/10/08/they_dont_make_em_like_chris_s.html