The Summer of Super Joe

In the spring of 1980, a rookie named Joe Charboneau stepped onto the field, and for one electric summer, he turned the Cleveland Stadium upside down.

Joe was born on a farm in Belvidere, Illinois, in 1955, he was the fifth of seven kids raised by a single mother in poverty after his father left. Joe’s path to the majors was anything but smooth. Drafted by the Phillies in 1976, he quit after a year, as he was frustrated by limited playing time. He bounced back to the minors with Minnesota, hitting .350 in the California League, only to be traded to Cleveland after a barroom brawl. By 1979, he was tearing up the Southern League with a .352 average for Chattanooga, but even then, he was headed for AAA—until fate intervened.
That spring, Indians slugger Andre Thornton blew out his knee, and Joe, a 6’2”, 200-pound outfielde, got his shot. On Opening Day, April 11, 1980, Joe went 3-for-4 with a double and a homer. Cleveland went nuts. Cleveland Plain Dealer writer wrote Terry Pluto, gave the nickname “Super Joe.”
Joe’s bat was hot—by June, he was hitting .300 with 11 homers—but it was his off-field antics that made him a legend. Stories began to grow, some true, some not so. He reportedly opened beer bottles with his eye socket in college, fixed a broken nose with pliers and a shot of Jack Daniel’s, and drank beer through his nose with a straw. He once cut an unwanted tattoo off with a razor blade and ate lit cigarettes to win a bet. “A lot of them are true,” Joe later admitted, “but some stories came out he’d never heard of.” In Mexico for an exhibition game, a deranged fan stabbed him with a pen knife, hitting a rib. Joe shrugged it off, joking he could be a Bic spokesman since their pens “write through blood.”
A local band, Section 36, recorded “Go Joe Charboneau,” climbed to No. 3 on Cleveland’s charts. Fans in Section 36 of Municipal Stadium became his personal cheering squad, led by superfan Don “Boot” Buttrey, who crushed beer cans with his teeth.
On June 28, he smashed a 500-foot homer off Yankee Tom Underwood, a feat only Jimmie Foxx and Frank Howard had matched in the Stadium’s third deck.
By season’s end, Joe hit .289 with 23 homers and 87 RBIs in 131 games, splitting time between left field and designated hitter. He won the AL Rookie of the Year award in a landslide, the first Indian since Chris Chambliss in 1971. The future seemed bright. But then, the sophomore jinx struck hard.

In spring training of 1981, Joe slid headfirst into second base and hurthis back. The injury nagged him all season, limiting him to 48 games and a .210 average. In 1982, he played just 22 games, hitting .214 before being sent back to the minors. Even in Chattanooga, where he’d once dominated, he slumped to .207. Another back surgery followed. In 1983, at AAA Buffalo, he hit .200 and flipped off jeering fans, earning a suspension and he was soon released by Cleveland. A brief stint with the Pirates’ minor league system in 1984 fizzled, and at 29, Super Joe was done, his 201 career games the fewest ever for a Rookie of the Year.
The fall was as swift as the rise, but Cleveland never forgot him. Joe settled in Northeast Ohio, raising his kids, Tyson and Dannon (named after the yogurt, naturally), and coaching at Notre Dame College. He became an Indians ambassador, signing autographs and reliving the glory days. In 2000, at 45, he had a pinch-hit single for the Canton Crocodiles, proving he still had it. His 1980 season, preserved in a Baseball Hall of Fame record, remains a beacon for fans who remember when Super Joe made Cleveland believe again.