He sat at the far-right end of the home dugout, closest to home plate, his shirt tucked in, hat on straight and head held high. He looked out over the field he saw constructed with the money he fundraised.
He looked up in the stands and saw the bleachers mostly full with the people he brought together: the coaches, players and friends he made in a combined 28 years in Athens as a player and coach.
When he was announced over the PA system he financed years ago, all he could do was tip his hat to the swirl of green and white that was on its feet in front of him, the colors that he became synonymous with during his tenure at Ohio.
And when the PA announcer encouraged fans to enjoy their day at Bob Wren Stadium, the ballpark named for his beloved mentor and coach, it was just another reminder that Joe Carbone is following in Wren’s footsteps.
We’re not in Elkland anymore
Carbone first met Wren at a summer baseball camp when he was 16. Although he went to sharpen his skills on the ball field, he took note of Wren’s teaching techniques, as he had decided he wanted to become a coach when he was 14 years old.
It was a match made for the history book, as long as Carbone, a native of tiny Elkland, Penn., could make the jump to Wren’s squad in Athens.
“I remember looking at Bentley Hall and thinking that I could fit my whole town in there,” Carbone said.
But it wasn’t long before the trout-fishing, backyard boy whittled out a corner of his heart for Southeast Ohio. He solidified a starting spot at second base for the Bobcats’ freshman team, beating out 12 other wide-eyed newcomers.
About 180 players tried out for the entry-level squad, Carbone said.
After making the team, Carbone began showing his coaching skills by helping his roommate, pitcher Ron Morrison.
Learning the ropes
Morrison saw Carbone’s gift for the first time during their season-opening road trip to Clemson during the 1968 season.
The bases were loaded when Morrison came in from the bullpen. He started the at-bat shakily with two straight balls, one of which was in the dirt. The team gathered round as Wren trotted out to the mound, looking upset.
“Right away, coach Wren came out and said, ‘I want you to look at the front of your jersey. What’s that say?’ ” Morrison said. “ ‘You’re pitching for one of the best teams in the country.’ ”
Morrison walked the batter, and it didn’t take long for Wren to return to the mound — this time to take the baseball away. Morrison’s shot was over.
Morrison knew he was in Wren’s doghouse, but the man who helped him work his way out was not a senior bullpen veteran or the team’s pitching coach. It was his roommate — the guy who he spent his free weekends and late nights with.
“I remember Joe working with me and just being that person he is where he was encouraging, and he said, ‘Hey, the talent’s there, but you have to work through this,’ ” Morrison said. “ ‘Life is not good right now, but it’s going to get better.’ ”
Things did get better, but not before they almost got worse.
With one out and a runner on first in a save situation later in the year, Morrison served up a pitch that got swatted back at him — “a screamer,” he said.
He thought for sure the ball would get through and Wren would yank him from the game. But as he turned to watch the ball roll into the outfield, he saw Carbone dive, make a stabbing grab, and gun the ball to first.
Morrison got out of the inning unscathed.
“It was a little something where I gained that confidence,” he said.
That confidence didn’t come out of the blue. It was part of Carbone’s creation, both in himself and others.
“My roommate and I were out there every day trying to move up the ladder,” Carbone said, his voice trailing off. “There were guys that were all-Columbus, all-Dayton, all-Chicago, all-Ohio and all-Illinois. I was all-backyard, Elkland, Penn. I was all-nothing. I was all-state there. … All that means nothing.”
Morphing into a mentor
To say Cristy Carbone was raised in a baseball home is an understatement. Her dad has coached for her entire life, and Joe Carbone’s mentor served as an extra grandfather for Cristy and her sister.
“Bob Wren was funny when he was still alive. … He’d always be on our back porch just hanging out,” Cristy Carbone said. “Dad wouldn’t even be home, and he’d be on the porch drinking a beer. He’d come home, and we’d just call: ‘Dad, Coach Wren’s out back.’ ”
Carbone rounded out his playing days by leading his team to the College World Series, where the Bobcats won two of their four games.
The Kansas City Royals picked Carbone in the 24th round of the 1971 MLB Draft. In the second round of that year’s draft, the Royals nabbed future Hall of Famer George Brett, and the Phillies took Mike Schmidt — Carbone’s Ohio teammate and another future Hall of Famer — with the next pick.
After two years in the minors, though, Carbone decided to focus on teaching.
Enter, coach Carbone.
Josh Sorge, a player and later a coach alongside Carbone, found more than a mentor in the Bobcats’ coaches, past and present. Now the head coach at Strongsville High School, Sorge credited Carbone, Wren and longtime Ohio assistant coach Bill Toadvine for shaping his coaching pedigree.
“As a young coach, we’d go to a hot dog joint or Casa (Nueva), and here I am looking at three guys that have 100 years experience,” Sorge said about his superiors. “For a guy in his early 20s, it was unreal.”
Comparing coaches
Carbone is hesitant to acknowledge comparisons with Wren.
His 689 wins long ago surpassed Wren’s total, but the mentor’s .742 winning percentage is practically untouchable.
Carbone has won two Mid-American Conference Championships, while Wren won the conference title 11 times.
Of Wren’s players, 63 inked professional contracts, which is 50 percent more than those who have signed on the dotted line during Carbone’s tenure.
But he’s flattered by the praise.
“Coach Wren could have a martini with the king of a country and would also drink beer with a low-life and both of them would feel like he belonged,” Carbone said. “He had that great ability to relate to people. He could carry on a conversation, start a conversation, end a conversation — he could do it all. I called him the master psychologist.”
For those who know Carbone, he might as well be describing himself.
jr992810@ohiou.edu
