04/25/07, Patient Care and Baseball Memorabilia

It is not unusual for Mike Piazzi, the Director of the Pharmacy at Community Memorial Hospital, to carry a baseball card or two in his crisp white lab coat.

It is even more common for Piazzi to show off the latest addition to his burgeoning collection, provide some historical perspective and share an anecdote that humanizes the players from the early 1900s who have captivated him.

Hamilton’s own Hooks Wiltse, for instance. Piazzi, a native of the Boston area and a life long Red Sox fan, was prompted by Dr. Rich Cohen’s stories about the town’s only Big League ball player, to do a little Internet investigation. Soon he was flashing a small card issued by Piedmont, a turn of the century tobacco company, featuring the lantern jawed pitcher.

In all Piazzi’s collection has quickly grown to 40 items, 15 (and counting) related to Wiltse, many of which are on display at the Hamilton Public Library.

"I got another one," says Piazzi to a colleague just outside the hospital’s pharmacy. He is clearly excited to have found an American Caramel card showing Wiltse, a member of the New York Giants' fabled early 20th century teams, with both arms raised above his head in an iconic pitcher's pose. As exciting as the latest acquisition is, there are bigger prizes to be had.

"Turkey Red Tobacco issued larger cards with great pictures," reports Piazzi evenly -- before delivering the kicker. "They go for $1,000 each. I’m looking at a reproduction for about $10." His most intense search, however, is for a domino that was issued as an advertising gimmick by Sweet Caporals cigarettes, featuring Wiltse. "That would be my crown jewel."

While Wiltse mania has swept the hospital -- orthopedic surgeon Dr. Mike Zahn has a signed ball that is also on display at the library along with pieces from Dr. Cohen’s collection -- Piazzi has discovered through his collecting a growing fascination with the stories of the men who played the game a century ago.

"I enjoy reading up on the turn of the century players and after reading the stories to actually hold something with the players' likeness on it makes them real," says Piazzi, who enjoys the quest. So Hooks Wiltse, who once struck out seven men in two innings, led Piazzi to Karl Spooner, a phenom from Oriskany Falls who was destined to be a star before an injury curtailed his career, and Spooner pointed the way to Bill Clancy, the grandfather of Community Memorial's Education Coordinator Diane Bialczak. Clancy, who played with the Pirates and Honus Wagner, too quickly was forced to choose between feeding his family and playing baseball.

Eventually, all these local players nudged Piazzi toward Fred "Bonehead" Merkle, a remarkably gifted athlete whose failure to touch second base for a World Series altering out has condemned him now for 99 years.

"When I was little I had a dream of being a writer but I didn't know what to write about," says Piazzi, who finally has a subject. Even though Merkle has spawned nearly two dozen books, Piazzi feels he has a fresh take on the century old injustice that would make a good read on the 100th anniversary of Bonehead's moment of infamy.

"Through collecting I've seen that times haven't changed much. Fans are still passionate, players and owners still argue over money, even Hooks held out, and one hundreds years ago tickets – at a quarter – were considered too expensive for families just as now."

Baseball, more than any other sport, is fueled by debate, lore and the fascination of the fans. Mike Piazzi feels the game now more than ever as he holds pieces of its rich treasure trove in his hands and keeps a card or two in his crisp white lab coat.