The Losito Clan (L to R): Guy’s daughter-in-law Jackie, son Ryan, wife Donna, Guy, daughter Nicole and, front and center not only in this picture but in every minute of everyday, grandchilren Michael & Mia.
by Patricia Adams
This is not a story. It’s not an article. It’s a tribute to my friend, Guy Losito. It’s a privilege to write and a blessing to know what to say.
We became friends nearly twenty-five years ago after meeting at the Ozone Howard Little League. I was the editor of The Forum, and he was a manager and a coach. Our first “encounter” came as he overheard me interviewing one of the 8-year-old boys on a Championship team who had struck out in the bottom of the ninth. The game ended with a disappointing loss for Ozone Howard.
After I finished the interview, Guy came up and introduced himself and offered me his first ever bit of advice. “If I were you, I wouldn’t focus on the strikeout to end the game. I would talk about what a victory it was for this team to get to a Championship and that learning to lose is really a big win. But I’m sure you were gonna write that anyway, right?
I was so struck by the way that he handled himself, and me, that I could think of nothing else to say but “absolutely.” It was the first in a long line of “bits of advice”. And it was also the first time I actually witnessed and realized the potential that a coach has to shape and mold impressionable young minds, teaching them the ropes, not only of baseball, but also of life.
Hundreds came out
to support Guy and his family in June
of 2018 at the Walk for #Guystrong held at the Ozone Howard Little League, shortly following his diagnosis
Over the next years of covering stories for the league, I witnessed the same wisdom pour out in countless situations. Disappointing losses turned into the hope for future victories. There were hundreds of winning games where Guy’s pats on the back and congratulations for his team was always accompanied by, “get over there and shake hands. Tell them they played a good game.” Plain and simple instructions with a profound ability to spread confidence, sportsmanship, encouragement and the desire to always do your best because that’s the most important thing you can ever do.
The smile that wouldn’t let anyone quit. No matter what.
Our friendship evolved after time spent together, many conversations and shared interests both inside and outside the league. Working with Guy on a few projects it became clear very quickly that his sense of determination was not only focused on the batter’s box or the pitching mound. Whatever he took on, whatever he committed to, Guy practiced what he preached and got it done.
One of Guy’s many proud moments in daughter Nicole’s remarkable abilities on the mound, this time at the last PONY National Tournament of Champions of
the millennium.
Undeniably, Guy was a powerful personality. There might have been a few times when you couldn’t exactly predict what his reaction would be – especially in the wake of a bad call by an ump– but there was something very predictable about Guy. No matter what was going on, his family always came first. His explanation of that was also simple. “You take care of them. They take care of you. No matter what. If you don’t honor and respect your family, how could anyone honor or respect you? ”
Yet another moment of wonder and amazement shared with granddaughter Miat.
I remember the first time I saw Guy do his Stevie Wonder impression. Donning sunglasses and bobbing his head from side to side, it was quite the transition—from the undeniably charismatic coach, screaming on the sidelines at aspiring miniature ball players, urging them to fly around the bases at Ozone Howard, to celebrity impersonations at a community charity event at Russo’s on the Bay. I thought to myself, ‘This white man can dance.’ As he belted out “For Once in My Life,” he made his way around the dance floor–in one hand was the mic, the other he used to lead even the shyest of steppers to the center of the floor.
There were so many sides to Guy that just knowing him was like going some type of adventure. And when his son Ryan came to visit me at home just before the summer of 2018, it was with news that Guy was going on a new adventure and it was going to be likely the hardest one he and his family would ever face. He had been diagnosed with a rare brain cancer, an aggressive glioblastoma where the survival rate for 5 years was less than 6%. But Ryan was not there only to share the diagnosis; he was there to tell me that Guy was ready for the fight. He wanted more time to spend with his family and to watch his grandchildren, Michael and Mia grow.
To everyone else, Guy’s granchidren are known by their names, Michael & Mia, but to Pa, they’re better known as Pride and Joy.
Facing nearly impossible odds, Guy and his family set out to set cancer aside. And what a beautiful and wondrous journey they went on. Making memories, loving each other and becoming stronger than ever. Guy didn’t crumble when he got his diagnosis. He did what so few people are able to do. He set goals and completed every one of them. Guy wasn’t living on borrowed time; he was living on his time. The time he needed to say all there was to say and do all there was to do. And if I had the opportunity to speak to cancer I would say, “you were no match for Guy Losito. You were ready to take him from day one, but he was never leaving before he was ready.”
There are so many more words I could say about my friend but I’m hoping I’ve said enough.
I just have a few more words (maybe not just a few), and they are for Guy.
Never to be forgotten were the Stevie “Guy” Wonder moments during which if you thought you weren’t getting up to dance with him, well let’s just say, you’d have to think again…
Guy, when I look at your life and accomplishments and how much you did for our community and for our kids, I am nothing less than awestruck. It is hard for me to think that I will not get another text or a call to ask me to cover a story about someone or something in the community that needs help. But hopefully after all the years you’ve been bugging me about stuff like that, I’ve learned to recognize a situation you’d like me to address. And I say to you now what I have always said, “yes Guy, I got it.”
I know I have told you over the last several years what amazing strength and courage you have demonstrated, and what incredible inspiration you have given all of us throughout this chapter of your life. In case you missed it, I’ll tell you now that I am also so proud to know you and to have been so inspired by your faith and endurance. No matter what the score of this game is, you are the winner.
Please remember that the brightest stars in the sky burn out early, but the brilliance they display while burning is everlasting. That is you my friend. Although you finished you’re mission here, I shudder to think about all the things on your new schedule. It’s true you’ve moved out of Howard Beach, but what you left behind, like those brightly burning stars, is forever. I will miss you and love you always Batman but I know I will see you again –because you told me that there’s no way that doesn’t happen – and after looking at your life, I have no doubt.
