JOE PEPITONE
Joseph Anthony Pepitone, Brooklyn born and bred.
Pepi.
What a character!
Maybe being shot by a classmate at Manual Training High School–he was 17–the same week his father died at 39, had something to do with that.
I doubt it.
The first ballplayer with a hairpiece.
A nightlife lover.
Brushes with the law, later on.
More than just brushes.
Here’s the thing:
Joe Pepitone could play…
Number 25; right field power; good glove…
But before we get to those nuts and bolts, let the record reflect that no less a luminary than the New York Post’s Phil Mushnick was clear.
Page Six.
He was surprised that Pepitone had made it to 82.
And he wasn’t singing a solo.
Joe Pepitone died March 13 in Kansas City.
During the sundown seasons of the Yanks during the mid-late 1960s, he was among the last who could hit, field and make a little noise.
And noise was Pepi’s thing.
Yet he was a vestigial Yankee.
Think Mel Stottemyre, Gene (Stick) Michael, Roy White and Jake Gibbs.
It wasn’t just that Mantle liked Joe.
Mick’s famous quote?
“I wish I could buy you for what you’re really worth, then sell you for what you think you’re worth.”
A pair of self-destructive loons who loved and respected one another.
Mantle died at 63 in 1995.
In 1988 the NYPD busted Pepi and two others for transporting cash, cocaine, quaaludes and guns.
Rikers.
Stripes for four months.
Maybe the orange jumpsuit look.
Rikers.
When Mushnick found himself at Elaine’s in the late night/early morning some years later, Pepitone was there–at the first table–holding court.
They had known one another for years.
“Hey Mush, come here. I wanna ask you something.
Why does your newspaper keep writing that shit about me?”
He had recently been arrested again, this time for an upstate beef involving a gun.
It was news.
Just like his exploits on the diamond.
Mushnick, no stranger to a spirited exchange, was happy to oblige.
“Why Joe?
Well it’s the same reason we wrote about all your home runs.
You were news, Joe; you made news.”
Pepi was satisfied, maybe even pleased.
No surprise.
After another drink, Mush went to the restroom.
In sauntered Pepitone.
Right next to Mushnick in the next side-by-side — don’t look to the side — tall urinals.
Along the top of one, he flicked from a clear vial, two lines of coke.
“Here, have one,” he said.
No word on Mush’s response except to say that in the wake of Pepitone’s passing, he made it quite clear that he was incredulous that Joe Pepitone made it to 82.
Correct sir.
Three Gold Gloves (1965; 1966; 1969).
3-time All-Star (1963–1965).
Two World Series appearances; one championship (1962).
Career: .258 BA; 219 HRs; 721 RBI.
A unique human being.
Being himself.
[Editor’s Note: This piece was written by Mr. Kaplan in March 2023.]
