Minium: Tony Guzzo Mourned, Praised and Honored Sunday at ODU's Bud Metheny Ballpark
Chris Finwood, ODU's head baseball coach, announced his team will wear "Guzz" patches in 2025 to honor Tony Guzzo.
By Harry Minium
NORFOLK, Va. – Kansas City Royals Manager Matt Quatraro flew from Missouri to Norfolk this weekend to attend the funeral and celebration of life for Tony Guzzo.
“I would not have missed being here,” he said. “He was such a great person. He affected the lives of so many people.”
Quatraro played baseball for Guzzo at Old Dominion and said “Guzz,” as people knew him, “was a big part of my life, a big part of who I am as a person.”
Quatraro never made it to the big leagues as a player, but made it as a coach and later manager, and said Guzzo had much to do with his success in life.
That was the message Sunday from so many as approximately 300 people gathered for a celebration of Guzzo’s life at ODU’s Bud Metheny Ballpark. There was grief and a few tears, but mostly, there was an outpouring of love and admiration for a life well lived.
Guzzo died on October 10 and his funeral was held Saturday at St. Pius Catholic Church. The funeral was for family and close friends.
His family and others close to Guzzo decided that it would be appropriate to hold his celebration of life and open it to the public Sunday at ODU, where Guzzo coached for so many years.
Former ODU basketball and baseball star Tony Zontini opened the event with a prayer and a soulful rendition of “On Eagle’s Wings,” a worship song familiar to many Christians, but especially those from the Catholic church.
"Nobody does it better than Tony," said Dr. Wood Selig, ODU's director of athletics.
Guzzo played football and baseball at Norfolk Catholic and East Carolina and then coached baseball primarily at Catholic, North Carolina Wesleyan, VCU and ODU. And Sunday’s event had a good mix of people from all four schools.
Seven people spoke for a total of nearly two hours, and the stories were so memorable.
I can’t possibly do justice to the speakers, but I offer a sampling of some of the best stories.
Ned Mikula, now a local attorney, grew up with Guzzo, as did Allan Erbe, a local amateur baseball legend.
Billy Swoope, who played for Guzzo at Norfolk Catholic, and former ODU All-American Kevin Gibbs and Head Coach Chris Finwood spoke. So did, Earl Robertson, who played for Guzzo at North Carolina Wesleyan, and Adam Knicely, who played for him at VCU.
Carol Hudson, the long-time ODU baseball publicist, was the master of ceremonies. "I couldn't think of anyone that coach would rather have announcing this and introducing everybody than you," Finwood said.
Later, he turned to Guzzo's family, including son Anthony, daughter Gina and sister Cathy, he said: "You know we loved him, just as I know you did.
"We will wear Guzz stickers on our batting helmets, and will wear Guzz patches on our uniform. We will honor him every day."
It was just 10 days ago that Guzzo died, but the pain of his loss was still apparent in so many people.
“When I played at ODU, he wanted me to get drafted as a catcher,” Quatraro said. “He spent so many hours working with me one-on-one. It didn’t matter what time or how long to put in the work so that I could learn the principles of what was going to get me drafted as a catcher.
“I just remember how much time he put in with me. He was relentless. He cared so much about everyone.”
Guzzo was a big man with a big appetite and but also had what seemed to be unending energy. And could he ever talk. He was nicknamed “Mountain Dew” for his ability to keep coaches awake when they were driving home from recruiting trips.
“I was driving home once from Winston-Salem and he was my Mountain Dew,” Swoope said. “I called him and the next thing I knew I was pulling into my driveway.”
“All 14-year-old boys need discipline,” Swoope added. “He was also the dean of discipline at Norfolk Catholic. If you did something wrong, you just met him on the football field the next morning at six o’clock and you were going to run.
“There are only so many mornings that you want to wake up at six and run on a football field. So, when he spoke, you listened.”
I got my introduction to Guzzo when he was coaching at Norfolk Catholic in the 1970s. My brother, Tim, played for Lake Taylor and caught a ball while diving into the Catholic dugout.
I knew who Guzzo was. Everyone did. But that afternoon, I saw his passion and competitiveness.
He was convinced the umps had gotten the call wrong – and I suspect they did. He turned his cap around backwards, ran onto the field and screamed at the poor umpires like I’d never seen anyone scream before.
Yes, the man hated to lose and always stood up for his players. I thought to myself, I'd loved to have played for that man.
Mikula said he saw Guzzo’s competitive side when they were altar boys at Norfolk’s Holy Trinity Church.
“He wanted us to be the best altar boys,” he said. “We need to know Latin the best, get the genuflection right, he kept telling me. If we’re number one, we’re going to get the best gigs on masses,” he said Guzzo told him.
Like so many of the stories told Sunday, this one drew laughs.
Guzzo’s personality was impossible to resist. I watched him as an assistant coach at ODU for years and saw how players looked up to him. He was having trouble walking at the time and often sat behind the cage during batting practice.
Players listened as he doled out advice. You could see the admiration in their faces. Dozens of former players showed up, including Tim Hummel, who remembers Guzzo losing his temper after a loss in a CAA Tournament.
“He smashed a sink and gashed his leg,” Hummel said. “So, he comes over to speak to the team. He’s very upset and he’s doing his best thing, he’s talking, and he’s making sense. But we couldn’t listen. We’re just looking at his leg because blood is just gushing out, like a medical emergency amount of blood.”
Players finally interrupted him and got him medical help.
“He was the main reason I came to Old Dominion,” said Hummel, who played for Cincinnati and the Chicago White Sox. “I’m going through (the recruiting process) now with my son and I know now it's not just the program or the school or the conference.
“What matters is what kind of humans are you sending your kid to play for.”
Everyone seemed to have stories about Guzzo’s appetite, though I suspect some were exaggerated a tad. At both Franco’s By the Bay restaurant in Ocean View and Fellini’s on Colley Avenue near ODU, he would tell the waitresses to just give him “the Guzz.”
Gibbs recalls eating at Fellini’s with Guzzo before “The Guzz” became a thing.
“He was digging in his pants and pulls out this piece of paper,” he said. “And you know, when you were like in middle school, you clean out your backpack at the end of the year, and there was that one piece of paper at the bottom that was jammed in by the books all year long. That's what he pulled out, but he held it with such pride.
“And he looks at the paper and starts putting in his order.”
Angel hair pasta topped with marinara sauce, topped with veal and chicken, and more marinara and two meatballs cut in half and two sausages on top of that, and then a little bit of scallops and shrimp covered with cream sauce, with a huge piece of garlic bread on the side.
Erbe recalls once when they went to an Italian restaurant near Southern Shopping Center.
“I ordered some stuffed shells,” Erbe said. “Tony orders a whole pizza.
"As an appetizer.”
He was an optimistic guy right until the end.
Mikula said he went to see Guzzo the day before he died.
“He was in great spirits,” Mikula said. “He looked at me and said, ‘you’re my brother from another mother.’”
“He didn’t just teach baseball,” Knicely added. “He taught all of us life lessons. He had the unique ability to see the potential of every player and work tirelessly to help each and every one achieve their best.
“I remember coach Guzzo coming to see me play in high school. He told me, ‘I think you can play for me.’
“And for the next three hours, we talked about everything except baseball.”
Gina, his daughter, loved every minute of Sunday’s event.
“Hearing all of the stories,” she said. "Hearing all of the memories of my father.
"It all brought me so much joy.”
Minium is ODU’s senior executive writer. Contact him at hminium@odu.edu or follow him on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram
To see Tony Guzzo’s online obituary, CLICK HERE.
Donations in honor of Guzzo can be directed to The Old Dominion Athletic Foundation’s Tony Guzzo Baseball Program Endowment. Contributions can be made online CLICK HERE. or by contacting John Vellines at jvelline@odu.edu or 757-683-6774.