Matino Clemente helped guide The Great One

It may be hard to believe for those who saw Roberto Clemente perform, but even the Great One needed help at times.

In those moments he often called his older brother Justino “Matino” Clemente.

Over the years, Matino served as a teacher, coach, and adviser for “Momen,” as family members called the Pittsburgh Pirates’ Hall of Fame right fielder. Matino was there to answer his younger brother’s calls even after Roberto became one of all-time greats.

Learning the Game

Matino, who was eight years older than his late brother, became accustomed to helping Roberto during their childhood in the San Anton neighborhood of Carolina, Puerto Rico.

“We always helped him and took care of him because he was the youngest,” Matino said.

There was more involved than just looking after the youngest sibling. Their father Melchor Clemente worked long hours providing for his family, and he didn’t know much about baseball. Matino was the one who mastered the game and shared baseball with Roberto.

Matino was a skilled ballplayer in his own right, playing in Doble A, Puerto Rico’s amateur circuit. Roberto would follow his brother around the field as a child and help carry equipment. He was always watching and learning.

As Roberto matured into a teenager Matino would see that his brother was developing the kind ability that could possibly take him to the major leagues. That’s when the instinct to teach and take care of his kid brother kicked in.

“I was the one who advised him,” Matino said. “I told him what should he do or shouldn’t do, especially in sports, but Roberto was a guy out of our league.”

Answering the Call

Matino answered the call in more ways than one. He joined the Army and saw combat as part of the 65th Infantry Regiment during the Korean War.

The enlisted ranks of the 65th Infantry were comprised entirely of Puerto Ricans. It was a segregated unit much like the black Tuskegee Airmen. The Puerto Rican soldiers in the 65th dealt with discrimination even as they fought under the U.S. flag. They were hailed as the Borinqueneers, which combined Boricua (the Taino word for Puerto Rico) and buccaneers.

Matino and other surviving Borinqueneers were awarded the Congressional Gold Medal for their service in 2016.

Time in the military exposed Matino to how race mattered in U.S. society during the 1950s. That experience enabled him to empathize when his brother when Roberto had his own encounters with Jim Crow segregation and racial discrimination while playing professionally in the United States.

Matino loved to show off his baseball knowledge and help Roberto out.

Breaking Bats

Newspaper clippings sent by Roberto were the main way the Clemente parents and siblings stayed informed about his performance with the Pirates. Those clippings are now treasured possessions for Matino Clemente’s family. They inherited them from their parents, Melchor and Luisa.

The Clemente family also communicated through letters and the occasional phone calls during the baseball season. Phone calls were rare because it was quite expensive to call Puerto Rico in those days.

When Roberto called, the family knew he had things he wanted to share, whether he wanted to celebrate a recent success or express his frustrations. Matino remembers his brother once called from Pittsburgh upset about a batch of new bats.

“The bats we bought do not work; they’re all breaking,” a frustrated Roberto told Matino.

The family conferred to determine how to help Roberto. Melchor instructed Matino to travel to Pittsburgh and assist Roberto in figuring out the problem with the bats.

As the Pirates played the Cubs, Matino watched his brother’s approach at the plate. He took note of how he crowded the plate and how Cubs pitchers were trying to pitch to him.

“He stands very close to the plate. He’s on top of it, you know,” Matino recalled. “They pitched him inside. Then he swung and his bat broke. He broke three bats that day. That day he didn’t hit nothing.”

The car ride back to Roberto’s place after the game was quiet. Roberto didn’t want to talk. He was still upset that the new bats were still breaking.

Finally, Roberto said: “Did you see what I told you? Those bats don’t work. They all break.”

But Matino had come up with his own diagnosis.

“What doesn’t work is your position [in the box] . … Back away from the home plate,” he told Roberto. “Measure it and back away. If they throw you inside, do not offer at the ball, you’re going to walk because it’s going to be an inside ball.”

The next game after the adjustment, as Matino recalls, Roberto connected for three extra-base hits—a double, triple, and a home run. And, there were no broken bats.

Those are the moments that Matino still cherishes. While most of us remember Roberto Clemente as the Great One, he forever remains “Momen,” the kid brother to Matino.

Featured Image: La Vida Baseball