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	20 Questions with Tom Paciorek By David Brown Northest Herald [Chicago IL] September 17, 2006 http://www.nwherald.com/SportsSection/brown/290443612971347.php Tom Paciorek still enjoys returning to Chicago, where he played for the White Sox in the 1980s and was a broadcaster for them in the late '80s and '90s – when he often was paired with Ken "Hawk" Harrelson. Paciorek, who grew up in a Polish neighborhood near Detroit, loved to exploit his own heritage with jokes, often at his own expense. Paciorek – "Wimpy" to some, named as such by minor-league manager Tommy Lasorda for the Popeye cartoon character who loved hamburgers – for decades kept hidden a dark secret of childhood sexual abuse he said was suffered at the hands of a trusted Catholic priest. Despite some dark times in his life, Paciorek, 59, maintains his gregarious nature and fun sense of humor – with a twist, as an advocate. These days, he also does the Washington Nationals games for TV. When they visited the Cubs earlier this season, Paciorek took a moment to reminisce about a great many things, including the Sox, who clinched the old AL West 23 years ago today. 1. Did your brother John have the greatest one-game career [3-for-3, with two walks, four runs scored and three RBIs] in the history of Major League Baseball? Yeah, he may have. It was the last game of the 1963 season for Houston, and he had tremendous back pain – some torn muscles in his lower back, along with a congenital situation. He had to have back surgery and he never really recovered. He was a great prospect. He had unbelievable power – something that I was deleted from in the family gene pool. He can reflect on that one day and be very happy. He's a P.E. teacher now. 2. Have you gotten anyone new to call you "Duke" since leaving the Sox? [Laughs]. No. This is my 38th year in baseball – and Lasorda gave me that nickname ["Wimpy"] because I ordered hamburgers one time when everyone else ordered steak – and everywhere I go, people call me Wimpy. Duke has not caught on. I gave myself that nickname because "Wimpy" wasn't real masculine. 3. You were released twice by the Braves in April, 1978. How'd you manage that? Once at the end of spring training, I was released, and I signed with [Class AAA] Richmond. Then Gary Matthews got hurt, and they called me up, and I played for a week and they released me again. Signed with the Mariners. 4. That worked out, didn't it? Yeah, but I was thinking about retiring because I was stinking up the joint when I first got there. Ruppert Jones had an appendectomy so they called me up and I started 0-for-9. Ruppert's coming back in two days, and they started me against Mike Caldwell of the Brewers because they needed someone to bat ninth and DH. I went 4-for-4 against Mike, hit a home run and I hit another home run the next day. Ruppert came back and they released Dick Pole instead, so I escaped. I lasted another nine years. Had that one good game not happened, I'd have been released and probably teaching P.E. someplace. 5. Where were you when the Sox won the World Series? I was watching on TV for most of it. The fourth game, I was driving and I was listening to Ed Farmer and John Rooney on the radio. I was so happy for Ozzie Guillen and Greg Walker and Harold Baines and Rock Raines. 6. What was their secret to winning? Staying away from injuries. [Trainer] Herm Schneider doesn't get enough credit. We called him "Dr. Pain." If you pulled a hamstring, you didn't rest it, you strengthened it. 7. Is it funny to you to see Guillen being in charge? And Kenny Williams. Kenny and I did a couple of games broadcasting before he became general manager. 8. What was the hardest thing about losing in the '83 playoffs to Baltimore? Not winning for [coaches] Charlie Lau and Loren Babe, who both were terminally ill. We knew they weren't going to be around the next season. We prayed for a miracle, and to come up short like that, it was a gut-wrenching thing. 9. Was it a sad ending to a special year? Old Comiskey was rocking that year. That has a special place in my heart. The fans were nuts. Those are years that I'll never forget. I still miss the old one. In that last game [in 1990], I was crying. Played there four years. You'd walk into the booth and they'd be cooking the hamburgers right next door and it was 100 degrees, and the grease was burning us – but it was our grease! 10. Have people from Chicago told you how much they miss you? Yeah, they have. I love coming back to Chicago. This is very special to me. 11. Why did it go bad between you and Hawk? I can't really say the specifics, but at the end of my 12th year I was given a list of things to work on if I wanted to come back for the 13th year. I read that as an invitation to leave. I always operate on a team concept. Tommy Lasorda taught us that it was about the team. I felt like the team was going awry a little bit and something had to give. The door was left wide open. I'm a bit stubborn, too. "Why didn't you call me in [earlier] if I didn't know what the [heck] I was doing? Why'd you wait 12 years?" But there's no ill feelings. 12. Why not? Because I was able to resolve some issues. That was a time I was trying to resolve being abused by a Catholic priest when I was young, and I don't know if that would have had the same impact had I stayed in Chicago. I was able to get away from the daily baseball life and be in therapy regularly. I needed that. I had been working for 32 years straight. 13. Why are you as open about being abused as you are? If I didn't do it, I'd feel like such a coward. My predator [later] was given a parish, and little kids would have been exposed to danger. I testified for a guy who brought charges that were dropped because of a statute of limitations, but when the church was giving [the priest] a parish, I had to speak up. The Detroit Free Press wanted to do a story, and I was still apprehensive. But they say you need to relive your worst moments of abuse to start healing, so I did – even if it was 30 years after the fact. I went for a jog, and went through being held captive, basically, for three days, in my mind and started crying – they say you're not supposed to shed tears, that men don't do that. I started crying buckets. And I heard a voice say, "It's over." I asked, "Is that you, God? [Laughs]." But I had my sign. 14. Are you still Catholic? I don't practice it the way you might say a faithful Catholic might. But I try to be a good guy and a good person. That's a little more important than faking the ceremonial things. I do a lot of work with La Casa [a support group] in Lake County. There's also a thing called "perpetual adoration" that I volunteer for. 15. What about a book? I have written a couple of chapters. I don't know if it's Ernest Hemingway or anything like that. I haven't had time because of the broadcasting, but I might do it this winter. Or the next time I don't have a job [laughs]. There was even a title I'd come up with. "Never Again: ... Something." I can't remember it. It's been so long since I worked on it [laughs]. 16. Spell this Polish last name: Pietruszkiewicz? [Laughs]. I remember one time, a guy came by the booth and gave me his last name. It was 26 letters long. Also reminds me of the joke about the old Polish guy who went in for his driver's test. The clerk gives him an eye test, because the guy's in his 70s, and asks him to read a line: "C-z-y-p-t-k-l-z-m-d-o-s-k." The clerk goes, "Can you read it?" The Polish guy goes, "Read it? Heck, I know that guy!" ... Pyet-true-skay-vitch? P-i-e-t-r-u-s-k-i-e-w-i-c-z. 17. You missed the "z", you know? That's a real name? Come on! ... "Never Again: The Healing Power of Laughter." That's what I was going to call the book. 18. What do you remember of the morning after clinching the AL West title in '83? We had a Sunday day game, so everybody over 30 invoked the "I'm over 30, I don't have to play today" clause. That was a tough night. 19. Do you miss wearing baseball pants? I can't get in 'em anymore. I used to wear 34s, but 36s feel so good that I wear 38s. I do go to the White Sox fantasy camp one week a year, and it's so much fun. We drink beer, we tell lies and we play lousy baseball. And all the proceeds go to White Sox charities. 20. Did you coin the phrase, "Mendoza Line" [for a .200 batting average]? No. I think it was George Brett or Bruce Bochte. Mario Mendoza was a good friend of mine; we were teammates in Seattle. I would never say that about a teammate. Everybody thinks it's kind of funny, and we did joke with him about how his bat jumped off the ball [laughs]. But that was all private. – David Brown is a sportswriter for the Northwest Herald. Write him at rdbrown@nwherald.com.Tom Paciorek still enjoys returning to Chicago, where he played for the White Sox in the 1980s and was a broadcaster for them in the late '80s and '90s – when he often was paired with Ken "Hawk" Harrelson. Paciorek, who grew up in a Polish neighborhood near Detroit, loved to exploit his own heritage with jokes, often at his own expense. Paciorek – "Wimpy" to some, named as such by minor-league manager Tommy Lasorda for the Popeye cartoon character who loved hamburgers – for decades kept hidden a dark secret of childhood sexual abuse he said was suffered at the hands of a trusted Catholic priest. Despite some dark times in his life, Paciorek, 59, maintains his gregarious nature and fun sense of humor – with a twist, as an advocate. These days, he also does the Washington Nationals games for TV. When they visited the Cubs earlier this season, Paciorek took a moment to reminisce about a great many things, including the Sox, who clinched the old AL West 23 years ago today. 1. Did your brother John have the greatest one-game career [3-for-3, with two walks, four runs scored and three RBIs] in the history of Major League Baseball? Yeah, he may have. It was the last game of the 1963 season for Houston, and he had tremendous back pain – some torn muscles in his lower back, along with a congenital situation. He had to have back surgery and he never really recovered. He was a great prospect. He had unbelievable power – something that I was deleted from in the family gene pool. He can reflect on that one day and be very happy. He's a P.E. teacher now. 2. Have you gotten anyone new to call you "Duke" since leaving the Sox? [Laughs]. No. This is my 38th year in baseball – and Lasorda gave me that nickname ["Wimpy"] because I ordered hamburgers one time when everyone else ordered steak – and everywhere I go, people call me Wimpy. Duke has not caught on. I gave myself that nickname because "Wimpy" wasn't real masculine. 3. You were released twice by the Braves in April, 1978. How'd you manage that? Once at the end of spring training, I was released, and I signed with [Class AAA] Richmond. Then Gary Matthews got hurt, and they called me up, and I played for a week and they released me again. Signed with the Mariners. 4. That worked out, didn't it? Yeah, but I was thinking about retiring because I was stinking up the joint when I first got there. Ruppert Jones had an appendectomy so they called me up and I started 0-for-9. Ruppert's coming back in two days, and they started me against Mike Caldwell of the Brewers because they needed someone to bat ninth and DH. I went 4-for-4 against Mike, hit a home run and I hit another home run the next day. Ruppert came back and they released Dick Pole instead, so I escaped. I lasted another nine years. Had that one good game not happened, I'd have been released and probably teaching P.E. someplace. 5. Where were you when the Sox won the World Series? I was watching on TV for most of it. The fourth game, I was driving and I was listening to Ed Farmer and John Rooney on the radio. I was so happy for Ozzie Guillen and Greg Walker and Harold Baines and Rock Raines. 6. What was their secret to winning? Staying away from injuries. [Trainer] Herm Schneider doesn't get enough credit. We called him "Dr. Pain." If you pulled a hamstring, you didn't rest it, you strengthened it. 7. Is it funny to you to see Guillen being in charge? And Kenny Williams. Kenny and I did a couple of games broadcasting before he became general manager. 8. What was the hardest thing about losing in the '83 playoffs to Baltimore? Not winning for [coaches] Charlie Lau and Loren Babe, who both were terminally ill. We knew they weren't going to be around the next season. We prayed for a miracle, and to come up short like that, it was a gut-wrenching thing. 9. Was it a sad ending to a special year? Old Comiskey was rocking that year. That has a special place in my heart. The fans were nuts. Those are years that I'll never forget. I still miss the old one. In that last game [in 1990], I was crying. Played there four years. You'd walk into the booth and they'd be cooking the hamburgers right next door and it was 100 degrees, and the grease was burning us – but it was our grease! 10. Have people from Chicago told you how much they miss you? Yeah, they have. I love coming back to Chicago. This is very special to me. 11. Why did it go bad between you and Hawk? I can't really say the specifics, but at the end of my 12th year I was given a list of things to work on if I wanted to come back for the 13th year. I read that as an invitation to leave. I always operate on a team concept. Tommy Lasorda taught us that it was about the team. I felt like the team was going awry a little bit and something had to give. The door was left wide open. I'm a bit stubborn, too. "Why didn't you call me in [earlier] if I didn't know what the [heck] I was doing? Why'd you wait 12 years?" But there's no ill feelings. 12. Why not? Because I was able to resolve some issues. That was a time I was trying to resolve being abused by a Catholic priest when I was young, and I don't know if that would have had the same impact had I stayed in Chicago. I was able to get away from the daily baseball life and be in therapy regularly. I needed that. I had been working for 32 years straight. 13. Why are you as open about being abused as you are? If I didn't do it, I'd feel like such a coward. My predator [later] was given a parish, and little kids would have been exposed to danger. I testified for a guy who brought charges that were dropped because of a statute of limitations, but when the church was giving [the priest] a parish, I had to speak up. The Detroit Free Press wanted to do a story, and I was still apprehensive. But they say you need to relive your worst moments of abuse to start healing, so I did – even if it was 30 years after the fact. I went for a jog, and went through being held captive, basically, for three days, in my mind and started crying – they say you're not supposed to shed tears, that men don't do that. I started crying buckets. And I heard a voice say, "It's over." I asked, "Is that you, God? [Laughs]." But I had my sign. 14. Are you still Catholic? I don't practice it the way you might say a faithful Catholic might. But I try to be a good guy and a good person. That's a little more important than faking the ceremonial things. I do a lot of work with La Casa [a support group] in Lake County. There's also a thing called "perpetual adoration" that I volunteer for. 15. What about a book? I have written a couple of chapters. I don't know if it's Ernest Hemingway or anything like that. I haven't had time because of the broadcasting, but I might do it this winter. Or the next time I don't have a job [laughs]. There was even a title I'd come up with. "Never Again: ... Something." I can't remember it. It's been so long since I worked on it [laughs]. 16. Spell this Polish last name: Pietruszkiewicz? [Laughs]. I remember one time, a guy came by the booth and gave me his last name. It was 26 letters long. Also reminds me of the joke about the old Polish guy who went in for his driver's test. The clerk gives him an eye test, because the guy's in his 70s, and asks him to read a line: "C-z-y-p-t-k-l-z-m-d-o-s-k." The clerk goes, "Can you read it?" The Polish guy goes, "Read it? Heck, I know that guy!" ... Pyet-true-skay-vitch? P-i-e-t-r-u-s-k-i-e-w-i-c-z. 17. You missed the "z", you know? That's a real name? Come on! ... "Never Again: The Healing Power of Laughter." That's what I was going to call the book. 18. What do you remember of the morning after clinching the AL West title in '83? We had a Sunday day game, so everybody over 30 invoked the "I'm over 30, I don't have to play today" clause. That was a tough night. 19. Do you miss wearing baseball pants? I can't get in 'em anymore. I used to wear 34s, but 36s feel so good that I wear 38s. I do go to the White Sox fantasy camp one week a year, and it's so much fun. We drink beer, we tell lies and we play lousy baseball. And all the proceeds go to White Sox charities. 20. Did you coin the phrase, "Mendoza Line" [for a .200 batting average]? No. I think it was George Brett or Bruce Bochte. Mario Mendoza was a good friend of mine; we were teammates in Seattle. I would never say that about a teammate. Everybody thinks it's kind of funny, and we did joke with him about how his bat jumped off the ball [laughs]. But that was all private. – David Brown is a sportswriter for the Northwest Herald. Write him at rdbrown@nwherald.com.
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