As a high-schooler in his native Gary, Ron Kittle, now a country squire in unincorporated Mokena, learned resolutely about motorcycle safety.
“Horsing around” on a grassy area, Kittle wiped out on his new Honda 250 and “burned his leg.”
No-nonsense father Jim “Slim” Kittle, who typically rationed his words, was better known as a man of action.
“He took a 20-pound sledgehammer and knocked the gas tank off,” the younger Kittle said. “The Honda was a couple thousand dollars. I worked all the time in high school and had paid for it.”
His leg recovered, Ron Kittle soon would be just a dreadnought on the basepaths, far more prized for his ability to launch baseballs onto the old Comiskey Park left-field roof and alighting in Armour Square Park. He was the ultimate local-boy-made good as the 35-homer American League rookie of the year for the 1983 White Sox.
Former White Sox slugger Ron Kittle and Barb Fernandez stop outside Yankee Stadium in New York for a selfie during one of their motorcycle trips. (Ron Kittle) (Ron Kittle photo / HANDOUT)
Now Kittle has dramatically picked up the pace hugging the ground in late middle age. Once barred by clauses in baseball contracts from riding motorcycles, he has more than made up for that lost time by zooming about the country on “Route 66”-style road trips. Kittle simply takes off on his 2003 100th anniversary Harley Davidson accompanied by girlfriend Barb Fernandez.
“Seventy-five mph is cruising speed,” Kittle said.
Ron and Barb Fernandez participate in the Motorcyclist America Pastime Tour. (Ron Kittle) (Ron Kittle photo / HANDOUT)
The excursions, exposed to all the elements, are needed breaks for the hard-working, 62-year-old Kittle. When not serving as a Sox “ambassador,” he’s busy constructing his trademark “bat benches,” custom-made furniture fashioned out of bats. Kittle works in a shop amid his finely-manicured property on which he seemingly uses a nail scissors to trim individual blades of grass.
“Quarantined” by the coronavirus pandemic, Kittle recently broke out with Fernandez and motored up to Charlevoix, Michigan, not far from Mackinac Island. There, he was reunited with old New York Yankees teammate Dennis Rasmussen, who operates a popular burger/ice cream stand.
The pair then discovered a local story worthy of “Route 66.” George and Kathy Smolak ran the popular Legs Inn overlooking Lake Huron. But the Smolaks struggled to reopen the vacation spot due to the pandemic. Their usual staffers, drawn from eastern Europe, could not travel due to the virus. The inn would have to start up with a bare-bones complement of family members.
Rasmussen was a left-hander who won 18 games for the 1986 Yankees and had a three-game cup-of-coffee stint for the Cubs in 1992. Getting together with Kittle roaring up on his “hog” is a highlight of his time in Charlevoix.
“It was awesome to see him,” said Rasmussen. “I couldn’t wait to see him. Playing with and against him, I knew he loved motorcycles. We parked him off to the side so his bike wouldn’t get rammed into by cars.”
Normally possessed of a hearty appetite natural to home-run hitters, Kittle consumed only one of Charlevoix Dairy Grille cook Rasmussen’s special half-pound “wahoo” cheeseburgers with homemade mayonnaise, along with fries and onion rings. “I don’t eat much when I ride,” he said. “Don’t want to get lazy.” The chill in the air also prompted Kittle to pass up Rasmussen’s soft-serve ice-cream “Avalanches.”
Another time, Kittle and Fernandez rode off to Galena and the Field of Dreams in Dyersville, Iowa, where he threw batting practice for fans assembled on the legendary field. No, Marlon Brando as “The Wild One” did not roar out of the cornfield on his 1954-vintage motorcycle.
But for a split-second, Kittle thought he had spotted a ghost while roaring through rural Wisconsin.
“It was a hot day, and a guy on a trailer on the side of the road selling watermelon and vegetables,” Kittle said. “He looked like my dad. He said he was from West Virginia, where my dad came from.
“He sold the watermelon for $1.50 a slice. I gave the guy $20. Other bikers were coming up. I ended up buying it for everybody.”
Not every excursion is stress-free. Kittle recalled one 14-hour trip to Sturgis, S.D., in which he encountered 40 mph crosswinds. “My arms and shoulders were sore,” he said. “You have to hang on.”
Nor can he and Fernandez just simply get up and go in strangest-of-years 2020. They had planned a 25-day, 2,000-mile trip to Glacier National Park and Banff, Alberta, in July that had to be canceled because of the pandemic.
The ol’ long-ball guy will play a short-game with motorcycles if necessary..
“I’ll ride ‘till I can’t hold my balance on the bike,” Kittle said. “The oldest rider I know is 70. A lot of guys in that age range get three-wheelers.”
George Castle is a freelance reporter for the Daily Southtown.