The Boy Who Refused to Fish… But Became a Legend
It’s another Guess Who with Kevin!
When you’re a kid and your own father calls you “good-for-nothing,” it’s bound to sting.
That’s exactly what Guiseppe’s father told him—again and again.
His father came from a long line of fishermen. For generations, their family had pulled fish from the waters of Sicily. When he immigrated to America, he worked hard, saved every penny, and eventually made his way to San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf, determined to carry on the family tradition.
Over time, he and his wife had nine children, and the boys grew up knowing exactly what was expected of them—helping on their father’s fishing boat as soon as they could walk.
All of them did… except Guiseppe. He wanted no part of it.
“What do you mean, you don’t want to?” his father demanded.
Guiseppe explained that the rocking of the boat made his stomach turn and that the smell of fish left him feeling sick. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help—he simply couldn’t.
His father didn’t see it that way. To him, a son who refused to fish was a son who refused to work. He called Guiseppe lazy, a good-for-nothing. After all, none of his other boys had a problem with the family business. And Guiseppe never seemed too sick to run around with his friends.
Feeling guilty, Guiseppe tried to help in other ways—sealing the boat, mending the nets—but no matter what, the smell of fish clung to everything, and he couldn’t shake the nausea. So he quit.
Instead, he took on odd jobs—running errands, delivering newspapers—sometimes making as much as a dollar a day. He didn’t spend it on himself. Every cent went to his family for food and clothing.
You’d think his father would be proud. But to him, odd jobs weren’t real work. Real work meant fishing.
The disappointment weighed heavily on Guiseppe. He started hiding when his father came looking for him or slipping away to watch the older boys play sports.
For a time, he thought tennis might be his way out. He admired the champions from San Francisco and dreamed of becoming one himself. But that passion faded, and doubt crept in. Maybe his father was right. Maybe he really was a good-for-nothing. But he wasn’t.
Guiseppe finally found something he was willing to dedicate himself to, something he was so passionate about that two of his brothers abandoned fishing to join him.
No, he never went back to the family business. He wasn’t a fisherman. He wasn’t a tennis player either.
He was something else entirely—something the whole world would remember.
Because if he hadn’t been too seasick to fish, he never would have stepped onto a baseball field. And if he hadn’t stepped onto a baseball field, the world would have never known the legend of Guiseppe… or, as history remembers him—Joe DiMaggio.
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