SEPT 25, 2024
My Mr. Tambourine Man
As I stumbled on some photographs, it made me laugh and took me down memory lane, please come along with me on a journey through the past, starting in 1st grade at St. James School culminates 57 years later of an unforgettable journey of friendship.
To me, Mike Pettenuzzo was always larger than life. He had Hollywood looks, athletic skills that outshone most, and physically stood head and shoulders above the rest of us—especially at a time when the girls were tall, and the boys were still catching up. Even as early as 1st grade, Mike was already a catch for the girls, and he never relinquished that title. As I reflect on our days at St. James School, one memory that stands out is how Mike seemed to be a step ahead of all of us. Even as a 1st grader, he had better coordination, was taller, and more muscular than most of us. His parents ensured he had every advantage, which was evident when he participated in the Punt, Pass, and Kick competition before any of us. Finishing in the top three in the state at such a young age solidified his status as a rising star among our peers. It was hard not to admire him, especially when he effortlessly caught the attention of our classmates, particularly the girls.
As a junior high student, Mike was all about excelling in sports, but he soon ventured into the realm of music. He joined our school rock band, playing tambourine alongside stellar performers like John Coughlan on drums, Tom Canon on bass, Greg Ziomek on lead guitar and vocals, with Mark Jacoby on rhythm guitar. The funny thing about being the tambourine man is that the title stuck, and he wore it with pride.
Mike’s natural charm carried him onto many stages throughout his life. Whether playing with high school and college bands or later performing alongside professional musicians, he never lacked confidence and always believed in his abilities. It was inspiring to see how he embraced this new passion, seamlessly blending it with his athletic pursuits.
Mike truly excelled in every endeavor he pursued. From football to basketball, baseball to hockey, and even in the classroom, he showcased talents that seemed limitless. I’m convinced that if he had the time, he could have been a cheerleader, a grand champion chess player, a concert musician, or anything else he set his mind to.
What stands out most to me, however, is that Mike was not only humble but also a true friend to everyone. He was never too proud to reach out to a child, a student who wasn’t an athlete, or anyone in need. Despite his big heart occasionally being taken advantage of, he never let that stop him from caring deeply for others. His ability to connect with people and make them feel valued was a testament to the kind of person he was.
Mike’s love for sports didn’t wane after school; it blossomed into a passion for coaching. If you took the time to talk to his teammates, I bet not one of them would have anything negative to say about him as a person. Reflecting on his collegiate and professional life, I believe he found more joy in coaching than anything else. The sparkle in his eye when he spoke about his teams and their learning journeys was truly special. He often shared how many of his players came in with little to no knowledge of the game, and he cherished the opportunity to guide them.
Mike welcomed kids who might not have played on other teams, teaching them essential skills and instilling confidence in their abilities. He ensured they felt they belonged on the field alongside every other athlete in uniform. While he wanted to win just as much as any other coach, he refused to do so at the cost of excluding players. His philosophy, much like his life, was that everyone has unique abilities and merits, and everyone deserves the chance to showcase their skills by being part of the game.
I am profoundly grateful for the blessing of being a member of Mike’s teams in grammar school, junior high, and high school. Later in life, I was fortunate to watch him coach his teams during my visits to New Mexico. My time with Mike has been one of the highlights of my life. I can say without a doubt that I loved him, and I know he loved me back.
Fifty-seven years is just a blink of an eye; if I had the chance to do it all over again, I would learn to savor every moment. Thank you, Mike, for giving so much of yourself to so many people and for making us all feel valued.
I will miss my play-by-play color man for our beloved Blackhawks, Ed (Mike) Olyczk. This season will feel incredibly long without you on the other end of the phone, sharing in our love of the game and our beloved Chicago Blackhawks.
Mike lost his battle with prostate cancer August 18th, 2018, God needed another Angel in his outfield.
You’re Never Really Gone
Love Tom (the sokman) McNamara