~ Malden Musings ~

Phil Castinetti & Sportsworld Celebrate 40 Years

By Peter Levine

If you didn’t get an invite to the 40th anniversary bash for Sportsworld, you probably heard about it anyway — the celebration was that big. A really big shew, as Ed Sullivan would say. Phil Castinetti and his son Corey marked four decades in the memorabilia game with a full-blown extravaganza at the legendary Kowloon on Route 1. And when I say jam-packed, I mean elbow-to-elbow, fortune-cookies-flying, North Shore at its finest. Family, lifelong friends, collectors who’ve been with Phil since the Reagan administration — they all came out to toast a man who turned autographs and 8×10’s into an art form.

The food? It was so good, let’s just say one well-known scally cap-wearing Maldonian went back for four plates. Four! I’m not naming names, but the General Gau’s didn’t stand a chance.

The Maldonia celebrity roll call read like a city directory: Johnny “Meats” Mehos holding court, Mike “Plummer” Ploumbidis working the room, Frank Levine flashing that familiar grin while shaking hand after hand, MHS Class of ’73 Maureen “Superstar” Binda, and Dr. Mark Gianatassio making sure everyone had enough subgum chow mein. It was part reunion, part Hall of Fame induction, part Chinese New Year — minus the dragon, plus a few larger-than-life personalities.

And to think — it all began on February 23, 1986, in a humble 400-square-foot shop in Everett. Blink, work like a dog for 40 years, build trust one autograph at a time… and suddenly you’re in a nearly 5,000-square-foot sports shrine on Route 1 in Saugus, quite possibly boasting the largest selection of sports memorabilia in the country.

Over 100,000 autographed items. Again: one hundred thousand! Cards, bats, baseballs, footballs, hockey pucks — if it’s signed by someone famous wearing a uniform, chances are Phil’s got it tucked somewhere between a Hall of Famer’s bat and a rookie phenom’s jersey.

Forty years: from a tiny Everett storefront to a memorabilia mecca. Not bad for a guy who just wanted to sell a few baseball cards. Here’s to 40 more, Phil — and maybe next time, someone (Frankie?) save me a plate.

Howdy! I’m The Old Ranger, and Death Valley aka Maldonia is my old stampin’ ground. Many’s the tale of adventure I’m going to tell you about the Death Valley country — true stories, mind you. I can vouch for that… Back when Phil first flipped the lights on in that cozy little Everett shop in 1986, you could pretty much set your watch by three 20-something “experts” walking through the door: myself, my brother Frank and our partner-in-collecting-crime Jimmy Damiano.

We weren’t exactly high rollers. Half the time we didn’t have two nickels to rub together. But that didn’t matter. An afternoon at Sportsworld was better than a box seat behind home plate at Fenway. Even if we left empty-handed, we always left smarter — having spent hours picking Phil’s encyclopedic sports brain about the latest rookie card surge, autograph values or which Hall of Famer’s signature was about to spike. Phil didn’t just sell memorabilia; he taught us the art of the chase — a memorabilia ` of sorts.

And here’s the thing — 40 years later, he’s still the same guy. An amazing businessman, yes, but more importantly, a true survivor, a loyal friend and one of the last of the stand-up guys. The hobby has changed. The prices have changed. The hairstyles (thankfully) have changed. Phil? Steady as ever.

Of course, no dynasty is built alone. Before son Corey became his right-hand man, there was another silent partner holding down the fort: Mick. Mick — the cockapoo, store mascot, customer greeter, occasional nap supervisor. Recently passing at the grand old age of 16, Mick was as much a part of the shop’s identity as Phil’s signed baseballs behind the counter.

Fun fact that belongs to the Mascot Hall of Fame: Mick ate nothing but meatballs his entire life. No kibble. No fancy organic blends. Just meatballs. Every. Single. Day.

Which leads to the obvious question I’ll be asking Phil the next time I see him: Whose meatballs were the gold standard? Because if Mick lived to 16 on a steady diet of gravy-soaked greatness, somebody out there deserves a culinary lifetime achievement award, and I want some of them!

Here’s a Phil Castinetti story for the ages: On one particular afternoon, Phil paid a visit to the late, great Jimmy Piersall of Red Sox fame — just a friendly stop-by to say hello and shoot the breeze. Two baseball lifers swapping stories. To be a fly on the wall that afternoon!

Now before heading home, Phil made one quick pit stop in the bathroom. And here, dear reader, is where history was made. An hour or so later, Phil’s phone rings. On the other end? Jimmy. And he is not calling to discuss batting averages.

Jimmy is cursing Phil up, down, sideways, diagonal — you name it. Turns out, Phil, in his post-visit fog, forgot one crucial detail: the toilet seat. It was left up.

Jimmy, not noticing the porcelain trap that awaited him, went to sit down… and instead of a routine landing, dropped straight into the hopper. Given his limited mobility at the time, extracting himself became less of a maneuver and more of a full-scale operation. For a brief, unforgettable stretch, the man who once roamed center field at Fenway was locked in one of the toughest predicaments of his long and storied career — and this one didn’t involve a Sandy Koufax 95 mph fastball. Thankfully, cooler heads (and eventually proper leverage) prevailed — crisis averted, friendship intact — toilet seat presumably returned to regulation position.

Some guys leave their mark on baseball history with a bat. Phil Castinetti? He nearly did it with a bathroom faux pas.

Congratulations, Phil. It’s been a long, strange trip in the sports memorabilia business for you, but you done good, my friend! Hope to see you soon.

As Peter Falk’s iconic TV character Columbo would say, “Just one more thing, sir” — don’t tell anybody, especially Phil, he wouldn’t want this to get around — but Phil has been known over these many years to help a financially strapped ex-ball player out after the glory years have come and gone. Phil Castinetti — again, make sure you don’t tell him I said this — a man with a heart as big as his shop!

—Peter is a longtime Malden resident and a regular contributor to The Malden Advocate. He can be reached at Pe*****@*ol.com for comments, compliments or criticisms.