Now this was a team…
Bishop Ford High School Alumni that either played basketball or otherwise was an alum.
This is open to all whether you are from Ford, Xaverian, Nazareth or Loughlin.
We will have our Basketball Reunion/Holiday Get Together on Friday Night December 6th at The Kettle Black in Bay Ridge on 3rd Ave and 87th Street beginning at 6pm.
Please feel free to share this to anyone….be it teammates or opponents. The goal is for a good time to be had by all sharing stories and laughs.
Received sad news last night.
One of the good guys from the neighborhood, Rich Ferraiolo passed away last night. He was 63.
For many years Richie lived on Prospect Avenue, a couple of doors down from the corner of 10th avenue and he also lived on 17th street. Rich attended Bishop Ford High School and was a huge sports guy. Dodgers, Packers and Lakers fan. Rich was always the first guy to have “Street & Smith’s” college basketball magazine. He later told me he would get a copy over in Manhattan before it arrived at Rae and Otto’s.
I will never forget when I graduated from Holy Name. I was in the schoolyard a couple of days after graduation and Richie walked by the yard, called me over and handed me a white envelope.
“This is for you,” he said.
I opened the envelope and there was a graduation card.
Inside the card was a ten dollar bill.
I thanked him and went back to playing ball.
That was June of 1978, 41 years ago. To this day I still remember Rich’s generosity.
Sad news from Glenn Thomas:
I am sad to post that Windsor Terrace native and Holy Name graduate Stephen Trimboli passed away on Wednesday, May, 22, 2019.
Stephen was 44 years old and fought valiantly before succumbing to Leukemia.
He was born and lived on Sherman Street.
The Trimboli Family were our neighbors. After attending Holy Name he went on to graduate from Bishop Ford. A few years back, Stephen and his family moved down to the Manalapan, NJ area.
He is survived by his devoted wife Maria and their three beautiful children. Stephen was a very hardworking, kind hearted, and caring man.
He was always a great husband and father. He will be sorely missed.
Earth may have lost a great man but heaven is gaining one heck of an angel. Rest in peace Stephen for you will be missed by everyone.
A few of Bishop Ford’s finest recently got together at The Kettle Black on 87th and 3rd in Bay Ridge. This is an outstanding photograph!
Over the years of growing up just a few blocks away from Ford, I met many great dudes (and gals) who went there. Nothing like watching their practice during the week and than watching them on a Friday night or a Tuesday afternoon.
My biggest regret in life is not being a Falcon. But I was able to coach their freshmen basketball team. So all was not lost.
Message from Glenn Thomas:
For all of my Bishop Ford basketball alums and friends. We are having a Bishop Ford get together on December 7th at the Kettle Black in Bay Ridge at 6:00 PM.
Kettle Black is located at 87th and 3rd.
This is open invite to all Bishop Ford alums and as well to our friends/opponents.
My favorite team…
When I was a teenager I hated school.
Most felt the same way, I think?
Difference between you and me? I didn’t persevere. Just gave up.
I’d rather hang out, do my own thing. Know what I mean?
Didn’t know the importance of an education. Had no idea. No clue. Who needs school? I’m going to be an Ironworker when I’m 18. That was the mind-set. That was the wrong mind-set.
Father, mother and older brother all dropped out of school. I followed their lead.
“For a boy to become a man, he must first see a man,” said J.R. Moeringher.
It started with Power Memorial. I was 14. The year was 1978. I lasted three days. Same high school as Dick Bavetta, Ed Klimkowski, Eddie Moss, Larry Petty, Jessie Fong, Mario Elie and Jerry Coles. I recall Jerry poking his head in my classroom first day of school asking how things were going? I looked at him and said to myself, “I hate it.“
Dreams of playing for their basketball team. Saw them play two years before. Said I wanted to be a Panther. Would go around telling everyone. All that was over. Two trains to the city. Too much. Had to wake up way too early.
What next? What do I tell my mother? She’ll be pissed. Ticked off.
Fear not young man. Enroll in John Jay. Seventh avenue. John Corrar. Patty Byrnes. Joe Pepitone. Freshmen and Sophomores in the afternoon. Juniors and seniors in the morning. I can sleep in.
Started skipping classes on the second day; few days later I was history.
At 15 you have no idea why you fear. (“Hey, get back in school, you can do this…) That’s all I needed.
Sure they tried to tell me to get back in school. I didn’t listen. An all important attribute. “Listening.”Older guys from the neighborhood preached. Lectured. Some even begged me. My girlfriend Maureen tried to convince me. My ears were closed.
Few weeks later I try LaSalle Academy down on the Lower East Side. Catholic school. Went 8 years to Holy Name. “The Big Lie,” but that’s a story for another time. Nuns, priests, discipline, wooden paddles, uniforms…
LaSalle is The Candy Man’s alma mater. John Roache. Tom Owens. Ron Artest.
The Cullen’s from 175 Windsor Place told me all about LaSalle.Good friends of mine growing up. Jimmy a year older, Frankie two years on me.
Said I would like it. They sure did.
Jerome Washington was a star player at the time. He was cool.Kid could really ball. Had hops too. Saw him one day shooting jumpers in their tiny gym. Thought to myself maybe I can play in the back-court with him? Poor son of a bitch passed away a few years ago. Think he was 48. Sad.
The LaSalle experiment lasted two months. Sorta. Maybe a month and a half. On the second day mom gave me $100 cash to buy a few required text books; I spent the money on cokes and buttered rolls every morning before school. On the weekends I would buy a bottle of Wild Irish Rose. The money was gone in 14 days.
Poor Mom, she and I tried John Jay a second time. Things didn’t work out. I lasted two weeks. I was petrified. There seemed to be like 10,000 kids in that school. The hallways were spooky. I didn’t know anyone. I was like a zombie walking the halls. Saw a few kids sneaking out a window in the stairwell. I jumped out with them. Ran up the block to Prospect Park. Walked around thinking this was so cool. Little did I know, I was fucking up.
Tried John Jay one more time.
Fall of 1980. Sixteen year-old freshman. But now a member of the the basketball team. Me, Ron Hardy, Keith Grady, Ed Saunders, Gary Phillips, whom we called ‘Doc’ because boy could he sky. I remember throwing him an ally-oop in practice. He was up so high he was talking to the Lord. And we had a really cool Hispanic kid from Bay Ridge, Merchado was his last night. One day him and I had two hours to kill before practice so we spent it watching a performance by some dancers in the auditorium. Pete Coakley was the coach; reminded me of the White Shadow. I was having a ball. Not going to class but going to practice. The day we got our uniforms, #30, I wore it outside. That night I slept in it.
Early December we played a few games; I got some playing time. My girlfriend Maureen bought me brand new Nike high-tops. But it hit me again; I quit the team. Dropped out of school. WTF?
Winter of 1981 I start coaching a seventh grade basketball team at Holy Name.
Took a liking to it. Never went back to school. But the game did something for me. Believe it was the Basketball Gods who sent the message.
Fast forward 35 years; took and passed the G.E.D. exam. Enrolled in college. Got my college degree. These days I coach varsity basketball and substitute teach. Right now I have a long-term substitute job until Thanksgiving teaching English 3 and Anthropology/Sociology.
Should have been a teacher. I love being in the classroom with these wonderful kids.
I slept in today.
All my friends are in school.
I stopped going a few weeks ago. I don’t like it at all. Mom finally stopped breaking my balls. It was getting annoying.
The teachers at school are a pain in my ass.
I don’t like being told what to do.
But I do like gym class. I like the teacher, he’s the football coach.
Oh, forgot to tell you, I go to John Jay high school down on seventh avenue.
I’m 14, a freshman, ninth grade. I do like the way they have it set up though. 9th and 10th graders from from 12:05 to 5:30. Juniors and seniors go in the morning.
I don’t need anyone telling me what to do. I do what I want, okay? They have security guards all over the school. Metal detectors at the door. Someone told me not to go in the bathroom that I’ll get jumped. I went a few times, no one fucked with me.
So leave me alone…I’m a drop-out and I don’t care.
I don’t need school. I’m going to be an ironworker some day. Local 40. My Grandfather can get me a job.
I look out my bedroom window and the sun is out. I like these days. I can walk around the city later today. When it rains or if it’s cold outside, I gotta find someplace indoors.
My girlfriend goes to St. Saviour’s. I miss her. Wish we could hang out today but I have to wait for her to get out of school. I haven’t seen her in two days. We talked on the phone last night but it’s not the same as being with her. Her mother always tells her to get off the phone.
I’m heading down to East 5th street to play some ball.
See ya later!