There was something about the brutal honesty, the nobility, of non-lethal combat that suited Salvatore. He was at home on a football field and a wrestling mat. He found truth there and, damn, he was good. Captain of the football team, captain of the wrestling team and 1972 Heavy Weight Champion NYS Section 2/Class B. Member of the Glove Cities Colonial Hall of Fame. At less than 5’ 10” and under 220 lbs. he was easily underestimated by his opponents. He was small for an offensive lineman and a small heavy weight wrestler. When his opponents scuffed at his unimpressive stature, we, who knew him best would be giddy with anticipation. You underestimated Sal at your own peril. Poor bastards never saw it coming. He was so explosive in quickness, strength, balance, and endurance. He was Mighty Mouse.
For years, his entire adult life, in the gym, he was never a body builder, never took any supplements – he was a strength trainer. Four sets of ten repetitions with 275 lbs. on the bench, that’s more than 50 lbs. over body weight. His maximum bench-press was 400 lbs. Then he’d run 5 miles. He put in the work. What’s more remarkable is he left his aggression on the field, in the context of fair play, of sport. Sal was a man who kept his football helmet on the dresser in his bedroom, not as a trophy, but because he would use it to go through the walls if his girls needed him more immediately than the hallway would allow. Off the field, off the mat, he was sweet, self-deprecating, and introverted. He was also smart, deductive, and philosophical – a writer, a poet and a music lover, a renaissance man. His empathy was off the charts. Always quick to forgive, he took responsibility, and was never the victim of circumstance.
The man had no filter between his mind and his mouth. He was easy to love, easy to hurt and so sentimental. (The song “It Don’t Matter To Me” by the group Bread. It made Sal cry.) And he was more than a little goofy. The prototype of a loving father. Impatient with himself, but deferential to his wives and his daughters.
In his younger years, when mom and dad wanted to visit their siblings and in-laws, he would stay home with grandma. He loved without regret. Sal had a true compass that he inherited from Salvatore Senior – known as Sam – and Carmelia. And Giuseppe, Rosalia, Carmelo, Francesca. Going back in space and in time to the eastern strip of Sicily. All that wisdom manifested in this one man who was my brother. He was good, for nothing – without conditionality, without transaction, he kept no ledger. He forgave those who trespassed against him.
Salvatore: in Italian “He who brings salvation”: And while he would be demure at the reference to Jesus Christ, he lived his faith. You would not find him in church. He didn’t need to hear the words of a minister. He lived the word. The legacy he inherited, he now gives to us, is a synergy of countless acts of gratitude, of love. He was a champion.
With Love, Francis