When I was a kid, there was no Major League Baseball in New Orleans. Everyone clumped together to form an aggregation of fans from all fanbases across the MLB. The Yankees, the Cubs, the Astros, the Braves, the Rangers and, for me, the Red Sox were some of the most common teams we followed.
But it just wasn’t the same to not be able to go a ballpark, munch on a hot dog and sip a cold soda while watching a game — New Orleans didn’t have that excitement. Kids couldn’t go to high-energy games regularly, glove ready to catch a foul ball and spirits raised to support their heroes at the plate and on the mound.
The Classic provided that experience for kids like me. And with this season being the last year it is being held, albeit in Baton Rouge at Alex Box, I wanted to write this memoir as a testament to the impact it had on so many kids and families in New Orleans who love baseball and those special evenings.
The Wally Pontiff Jr. Classic, a LSU baseball tradition held in memory of former Tiger Pontiff Jr. who died in the summer before his senior season in 2002 due to a heart anomaly. 
LSU baseball is the professional team of Louisiana.
Fans spread out across the state. The passion they collectively bring is unmatched, and in a concentrated city like New Orleans, the Tigers are as beloved as any other sports team in the area. It is the manifestation of Louisiana sports passion—outside of football—presented in a game honoring Tiger standout Pontiff Jr., a New Orleans area native and Jesuit High School alumnus.
He passed away unexpectedly at 21 years old, and everyone involved with the programs and fanbases was devastated.
My dad bought my family and me tickets on the first base line every year for that April night in Zephyr Field, home of New Orleans’s now-absent minor league baseball team. I always felt a special privilege being able to have such good seats to watch a team I cared about as much as LSU. It was also an opportunity for me to bring a friend to the game, show off my seats to them and laugh the night away while watching the game pass. It was my dad’s chance to give our family a fun and relaxed evening and give me the opportunity to get as close as possible to the team I loved.
I deeply cherish spending those nights with him.
Before the game, LSU players would line the first base line and sign as many autographs as possible. I made it an effort every year to get as many signatures as I could. These were my idols, the guys each kid looked up to and wanted to be. And for us in New Orleans, it was the only chance we’d get all year to meet them and get that coveted scribble on baseballs, hats and gloves.
I can remember my next-door neighbor, a close mentor to me until he recently passed away, coming to the game with us one year and nudging me to get Aaron Nola’s autograph.
“That one is going to be worth something one day,” he told me. “He’s the real deal.”
He was right about that one.
I keep my gold LSU hat with the Philadelphia Phillies’ ace’s signature in my childhood room in New Orleans to this day. A ball that sits quietly on my desk, ink fading as time passes, has signatures from local legends Mikie Mahtook and Mason Katz, as well as Tigers who have gone pro like Kevin Gausman, Austin Nola and JaCoby Jones.
The signatures to me are not just worn black marker. They mean something to me because they are a physical representation of my childhood.
The games offered us memories that live on in my head so vividly, to the point where I can still smell the freshly made popcorn and the leather of my glove, or see the Dippin’ Dots stand that stood at the end of the first base line like an oasis in the desert on those warm April nights.
I can freshly remember LSU’s star catcher Micah Gibbs slamming a home run almost all the way to Airline Drive over the left-field wall and being awestruck by the power he showed.
If you walked back across the concourse, the chances of you running into somebody you knew were exponentially high. Old friends, coworkers and classmates lined the walkway underneath the grandstand, chatting and catching up on the latest developments in their lives. This was a staple of what New Orleans sports looked like. It was a collective atmosphere of fans of the game, who were given this special night for the enjoyment of the event and more importantly, the people that they brought with them.
It’s a common belief that New Orleans is a family itself, despite any adversity we go through or any differences we share, and not too many events showcased that better than the Pontiff Classic.
But as time went on, the game started to gray and grow old. Nick Pontiff, Wally’s younger brother, told WDSU that due to the recent passing of the Foundation’s executive director, Sherrell Gorman, and the conversion of Zephyr Field from baseball field to the new home of New Orleans’s professional rugby team, NOLA Gold, this would be the last season the event would be held. However, the Pontiff family and their foundation have continued to show their affection for LSU despite the event’s dissolvement.
“Wally Pontiff Sr. has been really supportive to me since I got here, literally from the first press conference, and we stayed in touch,” Head CoachJay Johnson said. “What the cause is for is awesome: raising money for charities throughout Louisiana. We’re excited to be able to do it again this year and be a part of that.”
LSU defeated UL-Lafeyette in the classic’s most recent game on Wednesday evening by a score of 8-4. It was a complete offensive effort from the Tigers, with six different players tallying RBIs. Tre’ Morgan and Jordan Thompson hit their third and fourth home runs of the year, respectively. Dylan Crews came through with a clutch two RBI single in the fourth inning with the bases loaded and two outs, and the Tigers never looked back from there.
Ty Floyd earned the win on the mound for LSU, going five innings and giving up two earned runs on four hits. He struck out eight Cajun batters. It was Floyd’s fourth win of the season in his sixth start of the year. Of all of LSU’s starters, Floyd has the highest strikeouts per nine innings at 11.70.
The lasting legacy of the game serves as a great tribute to the young Wally Pontiff Jr., who inspired many in his short life, but is also a tribute to him by facilitating companionship, quality family time and growth of the game of baseball in the New Orleans area.
Providing New Orleans kids like me the avenue to get as close to the team as I did on those beautiful April nights was an invaluable contribution to our childhoods. As a writer for the team for three years, I can’t help but think about those games as the foundation for my drive to start writing about the team in the first place.
And even more importantly, the game was my chance to have some of my best memories with people I care about like my dad and neighbor. So, I want to tell those nights “Thank you,” for giving a kid from New Orleans something to look back on fondly and share with the people I love. The event means so much more to us than a Tuesday night midweek game.

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Wally Pontiff lives on