Jun 25, 2002 5 min read

How many times have you ever walked down the street feeling the day was going to be a bad one, that everything that could go wrong was about to, that no matter what you did everything was going to go in the opposite direction? Then you ran into a friend, stopped for a brief visit, and when you walked away everything seemed to be on an even keel again, the world was a bit brighter and things started to go your way.

That’s how it was with Cecil Cole. A brief chat with him could make the day brighter, and you felt a bit better for having run into him.

Cecil died the past weekend, and the world in general, but the world of baseball in particular, is so much the poorer for his passing.

I met Cecil shortly after I came to this area and was covering the old Fay-West Baseball League. He was playing for Trotter and when he wasn’t pitching he might be at first base, for even at 40-plus he could still swing a pretty good bat.

It was more fun to watch him pitch. Older league followers told me that at one time he had a real blazer of a fastball, and he could still let loose with an occasional hard one. But for the most part he used a variety of sliders, sinkers and a knuckler that danced like Gene Kelly.

When he was done playing, Cecil became a scout for the Pittsburgh Pirates, and was a constant fixture at games, watching the young players, making charts of their abilities which he later sent on to the Pirates for future reference and possibly more follow-up watching.

Of the many players Cecil scouted in this area, several went on to play in the minors, but one made the majors and is still active in pro baseball. Bruce Dal Canton was fresh out of California University of Pa. when he joined Trotter, and after a couple looks at his fastball, Cecil had Bruce on his way to Pittsburgh for workouts. The Pirates signed Bruce and he went on to spend 10 years in the majors. He finished his career with Atlanta, and is now a minor league pitching coach for the Braves.

Cecil had his own moment of glory as a player. Back when he started in baseball, the game was not integrated, so Cecil played in the old Negro Leagues, which were pretty competitive in their own right. He pitched for the Newark Eagles (N.J.), and his greatest fame came in 1946 when he helped pitch Newark to the world championship of Negro Baseball, beating Satchel Paige and the Kansas City Monarchs. His teammates included Monte Irvin and Larry Doby, both of whom went on to great careers in the majors after baseball was integrated in 1947.

One time when we were at a game, I asked Cecil if he ever thought that he might have been born a few years too soon and missed his chance at the majors.

He smiled and said, “Yeah, on occasion I wonder what I might have done if I had had the chance, but you can’t dwell on things like that. I had my chance to play professionally with the Eagles and I had a good time doing it.”

When Cecil was done as a player he came back to Connellsville and went to work for the Connellsville Housing Authority at Greenwood Heights. He also picked up another sideline, that of being a magician, much to the delight of the kids who lived in the Heights, including my own. He would entertain the youngsters by pulling coins out of their ears, and there were times when he went through the Heights about his work he would look like the Pied Piper going down the street with all those kids behind him, asking him to pull coins out of their ears.

If Cecil had done so for every kid every time they asked, he would have had an outlay akin to the national debt. The kids loved him, and today, while they are all full grown with families of their own, they still remember Cecil for his kindness and entertaining them.

One time when the Pirates were having a bad run, somebody at a game asked, “Can’t you reach into your hat and pull out a couple of pitchers for the Pirates?”

He laughed and replied, “If only I could!”

Baseball wasn’t his only love. Cecil was devoted to his family. His father-in-law was the late Billy Carter, who many still remember as an oustanding boxer in his youth. And he sang with the Amalgam Choir and was active in his Church.

Cecil and I saw a lot of games together, him with his stopwatch, notebook and charts, noting the abilities and whatever else he had to look for in each player, and me keeping my scorebooks to report on the game. We had a lot of good conversations and laughs, not only about baseball, but everything in general.

Thanks, Cecil, for making the games even more enjoyable, but most of all for just being my friend.