Tampabay: Theft at home steals a pastime

Theft at home steals a pastime

By THOMAS C. TOBIN

The crime was discovered Monday night in a Dunedin condominium, an apparent theft of baseball memorabilia considered priceless by a man who calls himself Mickey Mantle.

But the story begins on natural grass, in the long-ago shadows of an October afternoon.

It's the eighth inning, Game 6 of the 1952 World Series between the New York Yankees and the Brooklyn Dodgers.

The real Mickey Mantle, then a second-year Yankee, steps up against Brooklyn pitcher Billy Loes.

Ninety miles east of Ebbets Field, in Naugatuck, Conn., Clarence Fortin watches on a grainy television with his wife, Irene.

The Yankees are nearly infallible. And Clarence Fortin, a laborer at a local rubber plant, is transfixed.

When Mantle comes up to bat, Clarence makes a vow to Irene, who is pregnant with their second child: If the kid hits a home run, we're naming the baby after him.

Smack.

Holy. . . !

The Yankees lead 3-1 after the first of 18 World Series home runs Mantle would hit during his 18-year career, a record. They would win the series the following day.

Eight months later, Irene gave birth to a boy, Mickey Mantle Fortin.

Naturally, he grew into a baseball player himself, excelling in high school and college. He wore No. 7 and played the outfield just like the real Mickey, donning his idol's mantle even while enduring the taunts of kids who mocked his name when he struck out.

"What's the matter, Mickey Mantle?"

In 1960, Clarence opened an Italian restaurant that became a hangout for Mantle and other famous Yankees like Joe DiMaggio and Roger Maris. The younger Fortin soaked it in and grew to love a life immersed in baseball lore.

Over time, there were pictures with the players and autographs and personal notes to his father. There was also an eerie coincidence: Clarence died Aug. 13, 1984, of liver cancer, 11 years to the day before Mantle died of the same disease. Clarence was 58, Mantle was 63.

Shortly after 11 p.m. Monday, Mickey Mantle Fortin discovered that most of the tangible memories of baseball and his father were gone from the den of his Dunedin condo, apparently stolen.

"My heart is broken," Fortin, 47, said through tears Tuesday morning after reporting the theft to the Pinellas County Sheriff's Office. "They stole my memories and that's what hurts."

Deputies took a report, but there are no leads, no likely suspects and no sign of forced entry, said Sgt. Greg Tita, sheriff's spokesman. "It's really a whodunit kind of thing."

The items were in a green, three-ring binder. But Fortin can't pinpoint when it was taken. He last checked on it six to eight months ago.

Among the missing materials are two Mantle baseball cards, including one from 1955 when he won baseball's Triple Crown; a 1980s score card from when Clarence played golf with DiMaggio; a note from DiMaggio telling Clarence there were tickets waiting for him at the Yankee Stadium box office. There also were numerous photos, including one of his dad in the Yankee locker room with Roger Maris during an Old Timer's event.

"It's not even the value of it or the money," Fortin said. "It's the sentiment. My father's dead, Mickey Mantle's dead. Joe DiMaggio's dead. . . . I wanted to give it to my son. It was nothing that was ever going to be for sale."

Fortin, an independent insurance agent, writer and photographer, is hoping that whoever took the memorabilia has bragged to someone, and that somehow it will be returned.

Though he's named for the Yankee slugger, Fortin said the memorabilia is more a tribute to his father.

In the late 1970s, when the younger Fortin met his namesake at a restaurant, he was devastated. Mantle appeared drunk and told him to go away, saying there were many kids named after him. "He was a jerk," Fortin said. "I was almost in tears."

Mantle himself was named after a baseball hero of his father's, Gordon "Mickey" Cochrane, who starred in the 1920s and '30s for the Philadelphia A's and Detroit Tigers.

Late in life, Mantle publicly apologized for his boorish behavior over the years and used his celebrity to promote organ donations after a failed attempt at a liver transplant.

In his eulogy, broadcaster Bob Costas spoke of Mantle's heroism in the "ninth inning" of his life. He also spoke of grown men like Clarence Fortin, "otherwise perfectly sensible, who went dry in the mouth and stammered like schoolboys in the presence of Mickey Mantle."

On Tuesday, Clarence's only son remembered his dad taking 50 sausage sandwiches to Yankee games and handing them out to fellow fans. He remembered him taking poor kids to Yankee Stadium.

And when Mickey Mantle Fortin had his own son 18 years ago, Clarence showed up at the hospital at 7 a.m., dressed in a suit and tie, with a baseball he autographed.

What are you doing? Mickey asked.

"I want to make a good impression on my grandson."