Click here for a pic of Joe.           

By Armand Vanore    
           
            There are those who excel at whatever sport they participate in and eventually go on to star at one sport at some point in their life. I had the honor of visiting with one of them during Christmas as I do every holiday season.

            Pennypack Woods was a haven to live in if you were a kid growing up in the '60s and '70s. Any activity was within walking distance from home. The baseball/football field was the hub of all the surrounding streets. The basketball gym, weight room, outdoor basketball courts and swimming pool where all in the same area. Kids could play ball till late at night, and their parents were always aware of how close they were to home.

            The PAA (Pennypack Athletic Association) housed baseball, football, and basketball teams that competed in all the city’s leagues. All those home games had great crowds that for the most part consisted of the players’ parents who walked down the street to watch their kids compete. Those days are still entrenched in my mind. I imagine they always will be.

            The PAA hasn’t existed in over 30 years—disbanded in the 70s when the Managing Director of the community attempted to make the neighborhood a “senior citizens” domain. Although the idea never took shape, the sports association was never able to rebound. As a result, all that was left were the memories of some of the battles that took place on those very fields so long ago.

            I recently made my annual Christmas visit downtown to see one of those who was responsible for many of the memories I now have of PAA. Joe Dennis was a star athlete in whatever venture he attempted. Standing nearly six feet, six inches, Dennis still looked imposing as he walked toward my car -- only slightly heavier than when he starred as a power forward for Lincoln High in 1974.

An unsuccessful back operation has left him disabled for the past 17 years, and his discomfort getting into my car offered constant reminders of what he lives with every day. Through it all, he’s been a positive force, remaining content that life has generally been good to him.

            “It’s very difficult to sit for a period of time before the pain starts,” he informed me. “I can stand or lay down with more comfort, but the bending has been a problem since 1994. I walk five miles early every morning, but I am virtually laying down the rest of the day.”

            From the moment he picked up a ball or bat, Dennis adapted better than just about anyone in the neighborhood. Competing as a left handed power hitter while playing Junior-A ball, the kids T-Ball games (out in deep right field) had to be stopped every time he came to bat. He hit a few balls that landed over the T-Ball field’s third base fence line and broke quite a few windows to boot. Defensively he was also about as good with the glove as with the bat. At times it appeared as though he could play the game effectively with his eyes closed.

            At St. Dominic's School, the basketball coach was told about a six foot, one inch 7th grader who had the size, but had never picked up a basketball. The coach was able to talk Dennis into playing, and he finished his 8th grade year averaging more than 25 points a game. I still remember the time we beat Resurrection in the Father Judge tourney, 41-38. Joe scored 38 of our points.

            Dennis transferred to Lincoln after playing his freshman year at Father Judge. By his senior year he averaged 25.4 points a game, and then went on to play at Shippensburg. After averaging eight points a game as a freshman, it appeared he would start as a sophomore, but a broken ankle put him out for the year. He never really got into the flow again.

            After college, golf became his sport of choice, and within a few years he was playing on par at every public and private course around. To this day, he believes that is what affected his overall posture and brought on his back troubles. He’s paid a dear price all these years, yet still would not have changed a thing in his life had he to do it over again.

            “I’ve had a great childhood and sports really shaped my life,” Dennis noted. “My dad was responsible for all the success I had in basketball. He hardly ever missed any of mine or my brother Ricky’s games. He took other team members to the games as well.

            “I just wished I had listened to him and went to VMI (Virginia Military Institute) when they offered,” Dennis continued. I didn’t want to go there because I would have to eventually spend time in the military.”

            Gone are the hours of shoveling out the basketball court on snowy days to get some jumpers in. Or watching the homeowner down by the baseball field put up a protective hockey net over his window prior to one of Dennis’s games. But the memories linger, joined by the battle scars he’s had to endure.

            I told Dennis that I wanted to do a story about him for Ted Silary’s Web site. Just the mention of Ted’s name brought a long-lost light back into his eyes. Ted has written about Philly high school sports for 40 years, and Joe remembered him well.

“Oh my,” Dennis mused, “Ted was my coach in a summer league in Oreland back in '73. It was an all-star team with some great Catholic league players (including Joe McKeown of Judge—presently the women’s basketball coach at Northwestern).

“I always thought he’d be a solid coach,” Dennis added.

As for Lincoln, Joe acknowledged it was a good experience, but his original school was never far from his mind.

“Looking back on it, I kind of wish I had stayed at Judge,” he admitted. “I’m sure some of my own selfishness played a part in my leaving. They were a great group, and I felt like I could have fit in with their '74 team and have a chance to win the division.”

            Prior to leaving Joe brought over an article written about him in 1974 by Hank Stahl of the old Philadelphia Bulletin (Ted actually found the article from the Bulletin archives). He held it up proudly, still remembering the day it went to press. He also remembers the day-long ventures at the baseball field down at Pennypack and the mile-long walk the group of us took every day to St. Dominic’s and Judge.

“Boy, I wish we could turn back the clock just for one day. I think about those days frequently,” Dennis said.

            Fortunately for Dennis, more sports success may be on the horizon. In departing he told me that he’s hoping to be healthy enough to watch his nephew (Rick’s son) pitch for Central Bucks South this spring.

“He’s a six-eight junior who throws 91 miles an hour,” Dennis said. “I could never throw that fast.”

          But knowing Joe Dennis, I’d bet he probably could have.