Decades on the Diamond

FUN FACT: Joe Costa’s baseball glove is older than many of the players that now participate on the Ho-Ho-Kus/ Saddle River Softball League. It’s a quip he loves to tell when he meets a new, younger member. Probably because he can place himself in their shoes.

When Costa started with the league more than 50 years ago, it was in its very early days; he was newly married and a recent transplant to the area, having relocated from Queens. On the field, Costa found not only a place to continue playing ball after his school years, but a sense of camaraderie and sportsmanship that has endured decades and generations.

A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN

The Ho-Ho-Kus/Saddle River Softball League was originally founded by Les Shenkler and Frank Burr in the early 70s. Shenkler, who hung up his cleats some 20 years ago, says he had recently moved to Ho-Ho-Kus from Brooklyn and met Burr on the train during their daily rides to work in Manhattan.

Burr, who died in 2020, was looking to connect with other athletic men from town who would potentially be interested in starting a league. Shenkler, now 85 and living in Allendale, was in.

Little did the pair know that what they started would continue to be a beloved tradition in the borough for decades to come and expand to include residents from other surrounding towns.

Costa says in his first year in Ho-Ho-Kus, 1974, he got wind of the newly established league and would show up to fill in when needed. He had played baseball every year since he was 12 and was even scouted by the St. Louis Cardinals out of high school, but it didn’t work out. The league filled a hole for him—the sense of belonging to a team and leaving it all on the field.

By his third season, things were really starting to come together, with enough participants to build 10 teams. It started off as a “let him hit” lob ball league, Costa says. This transitioned to having the catcher call balls and strikes and then eventually hiring umpires for the games. Now, it’s primarily a modified fast ball league, Costa says; players can throw as hard as they can—some pitching 40 to 50 mile per hour pitches—but they can’t throw windmill.

As the league grew, playoffs became a town event with risers filled with hundreds of people rooting the teams on. But as much as it was and is about the love of the game, what Costa says he has enjoyed the most, and what keeps him coming back at 77 years old, is the connections he’s made.

“The beauty of it is you get to know people. A couple of guys from the early days of the league are still in town and we have a Romeo Club: Retired Old Men Eating Out,” Costa says. “But it’s also about getting to know the younger guys now, some of them in their 20s. We take it seriously, but it’s fun.”

On a recent spring Sunday at Rindlaub Park in Saddle River, where the games are often held when not at North Field in Ho-Ho-Kus, the spirit of the league was evident. Players, young and not so young, took the field together. The drive to win was evident, but there was an air of camaraderie that trumped any competitive vibes.

That’s what makes the league so special, says Bob Howell, the commissioner. He grew up in Ho-Ho-Kus and started playing when he was 19; he’s now 65.

“It’s a special league,” he says. “There’s still the community spirit that was there 45 years ago when I started. We do compete, we do have playoffs and a championship, but it’s very fun-spirited and that’s what’s most important. We have a lot of laughs.”

Bruce Hamlin, who is now a spectator but played in the league for more than 30 years, says there’s truly nothing like the friends you make on the field. He played lots of sports growing up and jumped at the chance to get back out there after graduating from college and moving to Ho-Ho-Kus. “

You get to know guys differently playing sports; you learn a lot about people on a field—good, bad and ugly,” he says. “You learn how competitive they are, how honest they are.”

Thomas “Sarge” Haschac joined the league in 2002. He lives in Clifton and connected with someone from the league and was recruited to play.

“It’s a great bunch of guys. There are no arguments,” he says. “I’m a certified umpire for varsity baseball and softball and some games do get contentious and people yell. Not here. I’m not saying you don’t try to win, but at the end of the day we all line up for handshake.”

Randy Darwick, an umpire for the league, can attest to that. He describes the players as a “nice bunch of guys that play good quality ball.” Plus, he says games are interesting because teams are different every year, with captains selecting their players at the start of each season.

One of the most special things about the Ho-Ho-Kus/Saddle River league, players agree, is that it spans generations.

Danny Valentino says he joined about 16 years ago when his son, Ryan, would attend games in a stroller. Now, Ryan plays alongside his dad and says he “learns a lot” from the older players.

“I was a high school and college baseball player, and I wanted to keep the competitive juices going,” Danny says. “It’s local, it’s been around for a long time and it’s a great group of people. I’ve made a lot of friends and getting to play with my son is just awesome.”

Kevin Rose, 22, started playing with the league after he graduated from high school and says he was “grandfathered” in, with his uncle and cousins all playing.

“It’s something I look forward to every Sunday,” he says. “It’s nice to see how older generations stay active and I enjoy networking with the players and just hearing their stories.”

Ho-Ho-Kus Mayor Tom Randall played on the league for about a decade and says he loves how it creates a sense of community.

“It brought people together of different ages, even generations, who you might not have otherwise met,” Randall says. “There’s also a pretty wide range of athletic abilities, but it always remained competitive and enjoyable. It’s a great spring tradition on Sunday mornings.”

Shenkler says one of the highlights of the season for him was an annual banquet held the night before the championship game, when divisional leaders played for the sought-after Commissioner’s Cup.

The boisterous evening was capped off with the induction of one unsuspecting athlete into the league’s “Hall of Shame,” which came with a gentle roasting that Shenkler carefully penned.

Paging through years’ worth of inductee proclamations, he can’t help but laugh even decades later, recounting details about his friends, none of whom were spared.

“It was a fun group and there was no real squabbling,” Shenkler says. “In 20 years, I had one home run over the left fielder’s head. I surprised myself, as a matter of fact.”

At this year’s championship game, Harry Edelson, a member of the league from the start, threw out the ceremonial first pitch. His son, Vance Edelson, says he played until the 2016 season, the year he turned 83. He’s turning 92 this month.

“In the 1970s, he was drafted in the first round several times and originally played shortstop,” Vance says. “He was also a team captain several times and kept going as long as he could, spending the last 10 seasons in the league as a pitcher and winning the championship once with him on the mound.”

Playing as long as they can seems to be a theme for many of the players, who just can’t stay away from the diamond.

This year’s championship didn’t turn out in Costa’s favor. His team, Green, succumbed to the Black team—2 to 1. Costa says he’s at the end of his career. But something tells me he has another season or two in him and a few more stories to share with the younger players, even if they are younger than his mitt.

For more information about the league, email hhk.sr.softball@gmail.com.

BY SARAH NOLAN