The Middletown Press (Middletown, CT)
JEFF JACOBS
Generations united in appreciation of DeMayo
State playoff time is the best time in North Haven, Dave Mikos says. So many baseball alumni still live in town and they’ll come out in the warm sun of the late spring to sit in the stands and line the sideline fences. They will reminisce.
“You realize there are decades of players telling the same stories,” Mikos says. “Grandfathers and fathers and sons who have played for Coach DeMayo. He is the common link to generations of our town.”
They will look to the dugout or to the third base coach’s box and see the man flashing many of the same signs he flashed in state championship victories in 1975, 1982, 1985, 2003 and 2015. More than likely, he will be flashing the bunt sign. If you play at North Haven, one of the first commandments is ‘Thou shall know how to bunt.’ The generations will look out on the field and they will smile.
The field is named after the man and, at age 85, Robert E. DeMayo will be going after his 900th coaching victory Saturday against Xavier. This weekend is not state playoff time, but it is a special time.
“Coach DeMayo is a man of total integrity,” Mike Proto said. “Anyone who has played for him is left with an indelible mark on their soul.”
Bob DeMayo has won 899 games over 60 seasons, by far the most in Connecticut history, but there are others around the country with longer seasons with more wins. No one has coached high school baseball for more years.
He grew up on Sylvan Avenue in New Haven. He thought he’d go to Hillhouse like his older brother, a young pilot killed in the skies of Europe during World War II. His mom and dad had other ideas.
He played on Notre Dame-West Haven’s first athletic teams. Fordham and minor league baseball in the Orioles’ system would follow.
DeMayo hit a grand slam in his first pro at-bat in the Appalachian League. He also had a difficult decision to make before the 1955 season. DeMayo gave up a baseball career at 23 to teach at Notre Dame and assist in several sports. Late in 1958, he accepted an offer from North Haven. He never left. Dwight D. Eisenhower was president in 1959. “Ben-Hur” ruled the theaters. “Gunsmoke” ruled black-and-white television. Eleven men have presided over the White House since Ike.
So how do we measure a man like Bob DeMayo? It has to be in the hundreds of lives touched. At a point in the 60s, he simultaneously coached North Haven and his son’s Little League team. Proto played for DeMayo when he was 12 and would outduel New Britain’s Jeff Grunwald — 25-0 in his career — in a complete-game 1-0 victory for the Indians’ first state title in 1975. Proto would join DeMayo as a freshman coach when he was a senior in college in 1979. And never left.
Dave Mikos’ dad, Joe, who graduated in 1961, played for DeMayo at the start. Dave pitched the Indians to the 4-0 state title victory over Newtown with a performance in 1985 that everyone in North Haven, except Mikos, still loves to brag about. His son Patrick, who graduated in 2014, played for DeMayo.
Think about it. Three generations of one family coached by one man.
“It’s pretty incredible to swap stories about the Coach DeMayo my father knew compared to the coach I knew compared to the coach my son played for,” Mikos said. “We certainly think Father Time has softened Coach DeMayo a little bit, but we wouldn’t say Father Time got the best of him. He still runs a pretty tight ship. Coach demands commitment. He is a character builder. He prepares kids for the challenges of life by challenging them through sport.”
Oh, there are stories. “We had a practice so horrible one Sunday night he stopped right in the middle of it, threw his bat into the woods and ended practice,” said Mike Kobylanski, who played for DeMayo in the 90s. “He challenged us right then and there. The next night we went out and beat Fairfield Prep in 13 innings for a pivotal win. The guys still talk about it 20 years later.”
Master tactician. Master psychologist. That’s what the guys 18 to 75 say. He pushed Proto’s buttons as a 10th-grader. Proto had a couple of tough pitching outings. The next day in practice, Proto made a couple of errors and took three straight pitches for strikes. On the way back to the bench, DeMayo said, “Proto, you’re the only sophomore I know that’s already a has-been.”
“He knew exactly how I’d react,” Proto said. “Next time up he had the pitching machine going. I hit a line drive up the middle. I’m on first base and still ripping mad. He looked over from the mound. Smoke was coming out of me. He smirked. Next two games I go out and throw shutouts.
“He’s a second father to me. He’s not always easy to play for. He’s very demanding. But he’s the best. I loved playing for him. He impacts a player’s entire life. Only he doesn’t talk about life. He talks about baseball. He teaches you to have grit, be hard-nosed, to constantly battle. By doing that, he teaches you to win at life.”
People see one side of DeMayo at games. There is another side.
“He is a teddy bear,” Proto says. “He cares so much about the kids.”
Proto tells a story of a senior who had played his way out of the lineup. DeMayo badly wanted him to stay on the team. The kid quit.
“I told Coach, ‘I know where your heart is and you’d never deliberately hurt a kid,’ ” Proto said. “He looked at me, there was a tear in his eye, and said, ‘I know, but it still hurts.’ ”
The Indians have long been known to score runs without hitting the ball out of the infield. If you’re going to play at North Haven, you bunt, take pitches and hit with two strikes. All that builds discipline, Proto said. And watch out for the “blue dart,” Mikos says of DeMayo’s sign. The squeeze could be coming.
“There are a lot of coaches who let their kids swing away and moms and dads get fired up when Little Johnny hits home runs,” Mikos said. “The bunt at the right moment is as effective as the 400-foot homer.”
With his philosophy that a game can be on the line in any given inning, DeMayo will bring in a pitcher on a moment’s notice. He would bring in Paul Householder, his one major leaguer, to pitch to a batter and return him to center field. DeMayo did that through the 1975 state tournament until Proto threw his complete game against New Britain for the state title.
“If we played them 10 times, they would have beaten us nine,” Proto said. “But not that day.”
Future NFL coach Kevin Gilbride played for DeMayo. North Haven beat Rob Dibble on its way to the 1982 title. Mikos beat Cheshire’s Brian Leetch for DeMayo’s 400th win. Over 60 years, yes, there are so many stories. None better than 1985.
DeMayo coached North Haven football for a time, too, and Mikos had torn cartilage early the previous September in a scrimmage. After a number of operations, the knee still popped out at times. It did again as he warmed up for the title game. Mikos was in pain. DeMayo said he was a whisper away from holding Mikos out. Instead there would be shouts of glee with a complete-game shutout.
“Guttiest performance I’ve ever seen,” Proto said.
“Coach gave me every opportunity to play,” Mikos said. “I’m forever grateful to him. Countless hours. Countless kids. He means everything to our town.”
There is a story from that 1985 championship, one that speaks to DeMayo challenging a player and ending so poignantly that Mikos decides he cannot tell it publicly. Yet as they stand there in the warm spring sun, it is one they share among themselves. Some stories must remain in the family.
“We know any season could be Coach’s last,” Proto said. “I don’t think it has to be a storybook ending. He had that opportunity with his 700th win the day he won the 2003 state championship. He could have left after the 2015 title. Honestly, he looks better this year than the last few years. I’m telling you he hasn’t lost it.
“I’m also telling you there’ll never be another Bob DeMayo.”