DejaVu All Over Again

Robert Palazzo

Although Clete was not around the day I visited, this family was able to spend some "quality time" with the former Yankee third baseman. I find it revealing that Clete shared with them his experience as a member of a family of 14 or so siblings and how he spoke highly of his brother, similar to my experience with him in earlier encounters (see Conversations with Clete). His roots and family appear to be very important to him and his willingness to play host to the Little Leaguers from Georgia provides additional insight into the man.

So sit back and once again enjoy the quirkiness that is "Clete Boyer’s Hamburger Hall of Fame"

Dear Mr. Palazzo:

Having just visited Cooperstown (for the first time) at the end of June, I read with great amusement your piece on Clete Boyer's Hamburger Hall of Fame. Let me relate my Clete Boyer experience to you.

While in Cooperstown, my 8 year old son Dylan wanted to play miniature golf. Having consulted a directory and map, we (my wife, Bobbie, 3 year old daughter, Jenna, and Dylan) located the mini golf course just south of Cooperstown and drove there. Having grown up as a devoted Yankees and Mickey Mantle fan, I of course noted the adjacent Clete Boyer's Hamburger Hall of Fame. After finishing our round of golf, we checked out the menu on the door and decided to try it out.

When we entered the restaurant (around 6:00 p.m.), it was deserted. However, we were greeted at the door by a young woman who informed us that she had orders to not let anyone sit inside because they were expecting a "big party." However, she offered that if we liked we could sit outside in the back of the restaurant. She and an older woman then escorted us to the back door where there were several picnic tables. To this point, we could not have agreed with you more to that strange sense of Twin Peaks quirky weirdness the place exuded.

As we stepped outside, I noticed that the only person seated at any of the tables (the only one that offered any shade) was an older middle-aged man, smoking a cigarette, dressed in a Yankees cap, blue Yankees tee-shirt and blue Yankees shorts. He was talking to a somewhat fashionably dressed woman wearing sunglasses. Initially, we first went to sit down at another table but found it uncomfortably hot. Our hostess (the older woman) then asked us if we would like to go sit at the table where "Mr. Boyer was seated." Having been extended the invitation, we immediately accepted.

As the four of us sat down at his table, Clete remained seated, continuing to smoke his cigarette, and appeared absolutely unperturbed by us coming over to share his space. We introduced ourselves, I naturally adding the information of growing up a Yankee fan during the era that he played for them. Although apparently happy to share his table with us, he did seem puzzled and somewhat apologetic by why we were not allowed to sit inside; ultimately he accepted the explanations offered by the hostess and (yes, mysterious!) woman in sunglasses that there would be no room for us once the "big party" arrived. Clete then explained to us that the party consisted of a little league group from Georgia whom he was acquainted with from living in Georgia during the winters.

We then spent the next 45 minutes or so having our dinner and hanging out with Clete. Our conversation ranged from the difficulties of buying new tops for the restaurant's picnic tables (apparently you have to buy them by the roll and then cut them down to size); his bemused surprise that his restaurant served vegetarian burgers (while I had no choice but to order the Mickey Mantle, both my wife and son are vegetarians); Tony Kubek's current whereabouts and activities (he's leading the retired life in Wisconsin, Clete was soon to be seeing him when he went to visit his son who's playing minor league ball in Wisconsin); his amicable relationship with George Steinbrenner; Clete's coaching of a young Derek Jeter who had difficulties with making accurate throws to first base which of course led to a discussion of Chuck Knoblach's throwing woes; Clete's knee (replacement?) surgery (he showed us the scar); and some of Clete's history growing up in a family of 14 or so siblings without indoor plumbing or electricity (he thinks Cloyd was the best baseball player of the bunch but had his career ended by an arm injury). Clete was also pleasantly solicitous of my enraptured 8 year old son, talking to him about his little league experiences and baseball fundamentals.

Throughout this time, we were periodically visited and served by our hostess/ "waitress" a pleasant fiftyish woman who appeared to have some familial relationship with Clete and the also pleasant sunglass woman, whose identity and relationship to Clete was never revealed. As we chatted, however, I did learn that she comes from Long Island and lived in Wantagh (next to my hometown of Massapequa). I believe I have the same guess as you as to her relationship to Clete. Our time with Clete was ultimately interrupted when the "big party"of Georgia little leaguers arrived. I guess having learned that Clete was sitting out back, a happy group of kids came outside and Clete graciously greeted them as they mobbed around him. He soon went inside and sat at the counter, patiently signing balls, caps, etc. for the adoring youngsters. Fortunately, my son had with him his newly-purchased Yankees cap which now bears Clete's autograph on its bill (and which, now relegated as an official piece of baseball memorabilia and folklore, necessitated the purchase of another Yankees cap to be used for everyday wearing). I too abandoned all pretense of nonchalance and asked Clete for an autographed picture, which is now proudly displayed at my home.

While we were enchanted by the village of Cooperstown and its beautiful surroundings and greatly impressed and awed by the Baseball Hall of Fame, my family will have no greater or happier memory of our visit then the hour we spent at Clete's restaurant. I got to schmooze with the best fielding third baseman of his time, and the man who wore my baseball idol's original number and played (and partied) with him. And my son enjoyed an irreplaceable moment in time that will last for years to come, even if, as he regales his friends with the story, they say "Clete who?" Clete will long be a hero in his book.

Best regards,

Billy Corman