Baseball #9 – High School, The Green Weenie!? – FeMike's (aka IronMikes) Blog

Table of Contents

The Baseball Series:

Baseball – Why Do I Love Thee? here
Baseball Cards! – here, here, here, and here
Whiffle Ball! – here
High School Baseball!
1. Years 1 – 3 – here
2. Road Trips and Music – last post
3. The Green Weenie – this post
4. Senior Year
Baseball – The Pros and The Cons (of statistics that is…)

High School Baseball – The Green Weenie!?

As I’ve mentioned in the past, high school baseball was a goldmine for stories. Our team wasn’t just full of players—it was full of characters. Many of us doubled as football teammates, and of course, we had our full cachet of Nebaletans. But unlike football, where helmets and rigid formations kept things locked down, baseball gave us the freedom to breathe—and banter. With hours to kill in the dugout, the personalities came alive. And when they “shined,” they really shined.

I’ve already introduced you to Coach Mel, Cousin Carmen, and Capo Carm. Today, it’s time to talk about Coach Schmidt—and his infamous Green Weenie.

Let’s start with a visual for context:

From – https://www.flickr.com/photos/pianoforte/171670815/

Nope, not that kind of body part—get your mind out of the gutter.

Coach Schmidt was our accounting teacher by day, and our head baseball coach by afternoon—the first ever in the program’s history. Capo Donnie remembers Coach Schmidt as his journalism “mentor”. He was also a hardcore Pittsburgh Pirates fan. And if you know your obscure baseball lore, then you know about the Green Weenie.

If not, here’s a quick primer: The Green Weenie – Wikipedia

Somehow, Coach Schmidt scored one of these little plastic talismans (no clue if it was the original or a knockoff from a flea market in dawn-tawn the Burg (see blog “Yins and Yous Guys” August 2022) and brought it to every game in a little box like a sacred relic. He’d break it out and have us rub it for good luck—because, why not?

Now, the Nebaletans on the roster were a superstitious bunch to begin with. Some wouldn’t step on the chalk lines. Others wore the same socks for a month straight (which should’ve required hazmat suits). So naturally, the Green Weenie became part of our in-game ritual.

Capo Carm was totally bought in! He remembers rubbing that thing to help him break out of hitting slumps. I’m pretty sure it got rubbed more than a genie lamp—and ended up with enough smudged infield dirt on it to build a pitcher’s mound.

Now, me? I stayed out of it! Despite growing up around my Southern Italian grandmother’s full-blown voodoo-like rituals—chanting against the maloic (aka malocchio – the Evil Eye –see August 2020 blog post here) — I stayed skeptical.

My mom (Grandma Joanne) saw a fortune-telling card reader, so I’d seen it all. Still, voodoo superstitions are not in my physics textbooks nor is there a math equation for such crap. I didn’t buy it. The Green Weenie, in my opinion, was BS. So, no—I never touched that slimy little thing – I had one of my own…if needed! It’s also probably why I sat the bench!

ASIDE – I must say that I wore an “Italian Horn” (cornu, aka cornicello – see Neapolitan Word of the Day) through HS and college. And still today, our houses have horns hung up in our kitchens or living rooms. Am I a walking contradiction – part skeptic, part superstitious horn-wearer, fearing the maloic around every corner?

Superstizione?! Me? Hmm….you decide!

Our Kitchen – not one but dozens of horns

Nebaletan Word of the Day – Italian Horn

Obviously, the words Italian Horn do not include any Italian or Nebaletan words – But, it’s Nebaletan!

As mentioned above, I wore one as a kid as did nearly all of my Nebaletan friends. And, the symbol was (and is) predominantly displayed in most of their homes (see above!). It’s omnipresent while walking the streets of Napoli and all of Campania.

It even has a Wikipedia page! – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cornicello

“A cornicello [pronounce Corn-ee-chay-lo]… cornetto (…for ‘little horn’), corno (…for ‘horn”‘), or corno portafortuna (..for ‘horn that brings luck’) is an [Southern] Italian…talisman worn to protect against the evil eye (or malocchio) and bad luck in general, and…to promote fertility and virility. In Neapolitan, it is called curniciello [pronounced coorn-ee-chee-ay-lo]…[it] is also sometimes referred to as the Italian horn.”

Quick Pizza Review – 3 Pizzas in Napoli in 36 hours!

With my saintly wife’s blessing, we flew to Napoli to catch the Giro d’Italia finish before heading to Belgium and Holland for our own bike tour. She got sleep on the red-eye. I did not. Which meant day one was going to be an all-out battle to stay awake until nightfall and beat the jet lag.

To keep myself conscious, I set three goals for that first day:

Visit the church designed and painted by my ancestor Francesco Solimena — ✔️
Take a “formal” tour of the Quartieri Spagnoli — ✔️ (but the guide phoned it in)
Eat pizza — ✔️✔️✔️ (times three)

St. Nicholas Church on Via Toledo – Architecture and Paintings by Francesco Solimena

I Quartieri Spagnoli (The Spanish Quarter) of Napoli

Gino Sorbillo La Piccolina – Pizza a Portafoglio (May 14, 2025)

The plan was to finally hit Tutino’s, a place I’ve walked by on every Napoli trip but never entered. They’re famous for Pizza a Portafoglio — basically a Neapolitan pizza folded twice like a wallet so you can eat it on the go. Neapolitan Street pizza. Bellisima!

But, as fate (and a big Sorbillo sign) would have it, I got distracted and ended up at Gino Sorbillo La Piccolina instead! Fortunate mistake.

My first ever Pizza a Portafoglio was GREAT:

Dough: properly fermented with that telltale tang
Crust: charred but not burnt
Sauce: fresh, bright, zero nonsense
Cheese: fior di latte, dead-on perfect

Price: €3.60 — THREE. SIXTY ($US 4). On Via Toledo, Napoli’s main drag. I’ve paid more for a sad airport granola bar. This was art.

Ristorante Sette Passi a Chiaia (May 14, 2025)

Next plan: go to the world famous Pizzeria Brandi.

Reality: Brandi was closed. I’d been awake 30+ hours. I was running on fumes and willpower. We looked 20 feet down the alley and saw Sette Passi a Chiaia. They were open. That was all I needed.

Despite the name, they’re actually in the Spanish Quarter. Maybe the “Sette Passi” (Seven Steps) is how far you have to walk to cross into Chiaia? Whatever. They had pizza and wine. Game on.

Setta Passi (you can see Pizzeria Brandi by the crowd on the far right up the alley)

I got the Margherita (obviously)
Cathy went for her go-to: prosciutto and arugula
Both – Proper crust, good fermentation, restrained tomato, fresh mozzedell (fior di latte).

As I’ve said before and will repeat forever: even the no-name pizza joints in Naples beat 98% of what we get back home and this was no exception. It was GOOD, nearly great with the sauce being the hold back!

Price: €7.50 for a proper pizza. €5 for a 4 glass carafe of local Aglianico! Come on! €20 ($23) for due pizze (two pizzas) and incredible wine! Just typing is making me drool. This place may be unassuming, but it gets the job done with style.

Pizzeria Brandi (May 15, 2025)

This was Giro d’Italia finish in Napoli day. Seeing the finish in person? Unreal.

Our VIP Suite – 20 meters from the finish

But visiting Brandi? Just as unreal!

This is the pizzeria that invented the Margherita in 1889 (see here – https://pizzeriabrandi.com/history/). They’re on Via Chiaia, about 100 steps from Sette Passi. Unlike other famous spots like Sorbillo or Da Michele, Brandi feels…fancy. If you didn’t see the pizza oven, you might think it was a Michelin starred restaurant.