Christy Mathewson

“ Then Tom arranged his exhibit. A toboggan with a stunning red cushion was tilted down the incline, skiis and sleds were displayed enticingly, at the back, hockey sticks were crossed and pucks laid at the intersections, and a row of skates made a border along the front. Snow-shoes with brave scarlet tassels were there, too, while more colour was supplied to the frosty scene by gaudy toboggan caps, madly-hued Mackinaw jackets, and high-school and grammar-school pennants. Tom had had the idea of that window in mind a long time and so there was no hesitation when the opportunity came. ”

“ Handling the goods he did, it is not to be wondered at that Tom grew interested in athletic sports and events. Although he had never witnessed a baseball game, save such impromptu affairs as he had participated in with his mates at the country school, when the home plate was a flat rock stolen from the stone wall and the bases were empty tin cans or blocks of wood, nor seen an athletic meeting, nor had more than the haziest notion of what one did with a golf club, he nevertheless developed a keen interest in all these things and perused the sporting news in the papers with a fine devotion. ”

“ Only you don’t ever want to pitch an in-curve, Tom. You see, you’ve got to start it off with a round-arm delivery and that puts the batter on every time. He knows what’s coming, do you see? And he lams it! But if you give him an in-shoot he can’t tell what it’s going to be because an in-shoot starts off like any other ball. ”

“ This fence hid the back-yard where the clothes were dried and where the ashes were kept until, on Monday mornings, Mr. Tully, attired in blue overalls, rolled them out in four big galvanised iron barrels to the sidewalk, whistling “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Just what connection there might be between ashes and the star-spangled banner, Tom couldn’t make out; but Mr. Tully always whistled that particular tune and nothing else on such occasions.
Viewing the stretch of turf which in olden days [207] would have made a fine bowling green, and the brown board fence, Tom had an idea. ”

“ On the way back Walter White, who captained the Blues, said:
“Can you go over to Lynton with us Saturday, Pollock? Wish you would. You played a dandy game to-day; didn’t he, Thorny?”
“Sure! The kid’s a ballplayer, that’s what he is. He’ll come; won’t you, Tom?”
“If you want me,” said Tom.
“We sure do! Wish you might have played all summer with us,” replied White. “You’ve got a fine eye for the ball. That two-bagger of yours was as clean a wallop as I’ve seen for a long time!”
“And that red-headed pitcher of theirs,” sighed Thorny, “was no cinch! ”

“ Tom’s two afternoons of practice had greatly improved his playing. As a batsman he would doubtless never perform in the three-hundred class, but he was fully as good with the stick as two or three other players who had won places on the team. He soon learned how to field his position and became so adept at throwing to bases that runners no longer took daring leads when he was on the mound. He and Buster, who played first, got so that they worked together like machinery and many an unfortunate runner was caught off just when things looked their brightest. ”

“ Anyway, I wouldn’t want to leave Cummings and Wright’s, even to play baseball! Who’d look after my sporting goods for me?”
“Oh, hang your old sporting goods!” said Sidney disgustedly. “If you had any—any patriotism, any right feeling, you’d come out and help the team, Tom! Why, say, you ought to see Pete Farrar in the box. He—he’s a—a fake, that’s all he is, a regular fake!” ”

“ Watch him streak to first! That’s Murray fielding the ball in to second. That was a peach of a base-hit, eh? I don’t know who this chap is. He’s a big one, though. One ball! A foul! He’s got it! No, he hasn’t either! Look at the crowd in the stands, Tom. Now watch the fellow on first. There he goes!”
“He’s out!” exclaimed Tom in a hoarse and agitated whisper as the runner slid into second and the shortstop swung at him with the ball in hand.
“No, sir!” said Thorny triumphantly. “He’s safe! See that? That was some steal, eh? A close decision, though. I wonder who that umpire on bases is? ”

“ Tom took the ball and strove to get a grip on it in the manner shown. “That’s it, isn’t it?” he asked finally. “But I’d never be able to pitch it that way. Why, it would just fall out! I wouldn’t have any control over it!”
“That’s the way it seemed to me until I tried it, but I’m getting the hang of it. It’s a great ball when it’s done right; looks like a fast one and floats over as slow as an ice-wagon going up hill! When I learn it, I’ll show it to you, Tom. Say, I’m mighty glad you’re going to pitch for those fellows! Bet you anything we just mow ’em down this spring, Tom!” ”

“ Sidney found his place in the book. “Because you ‘impart to it the rotary motion necessary to make it curve to the pitcher’s left.’”
“Well, but why?”
“Oh, shut up,” sighed Sidney. “You’re too inquisitive. It—it just does, I suppose.”
“Nothing ‘just does’ without a reason,” replied Tom seriously. “And I’m going to find out why. Seems to me if I knew why a ball curves one time and doesn’t curve another, I’d get the hang of it better. ”

“ I don’t know whether Bat will start you or Toby Williams, but it’s going to take more than one pitcher to get through a game on a day like this. So you’re certain to get your chance. When you do, Tom, just remember that you aren’t expected to perform any miracles. Lots of young pitchers get the idea fixed in their heads that the whole game depends on them. They get so anxious and keyed up that they don’t do themselves justice. ”

“ The first game I ever pitched was in my second year at grammar school. We had a little twelve-year-old team and used to play out by the car barns. I knew how to curve a ball about once in five times and the first day I pitched I was scared blue. But no one ever knew it, I’ll bet! And I pitched rings around the other team because I bluffed them into thinking I was a perfect wonder!” Thorny laughed reminiscently. “If you haven’t got the goods, Tom, the next best thing is to make believe you have, I guess. ”

“ It was Petersburg’s chance to win the game.
Tom knew that he must at least keep the next two men from hitting out of the infield. Neither of them were dangerous batters, although that counted for little since at such times it frequently happens that the poorest hitter on a team comes to the mark with a rescuing wallop. The first batsman was plainly anxious to hit, and Sam took his cue from that. The first ball was a drop that failed to please the umpire. Sam was more than ordinarily deliberate in returning the ball to Tom, and Tom was as slow as cold molasses. ”

“ Tom lighted out for third at the crack of the bat and ran his hardest, but Buster was easily out at first and the inning was over.
Now base-running to a pitcher already tired is no great aid and Tom went into the box a minute later feeling rather the worse for wear. The first batsman obligingly sent up a short fly which Captain Warner got by a run back into the outfield, but the next man was a canny batsman and before Tom knew it the score was two balls and no strikes. An out-shoot, Tom’s best ball, barely cut the corner for a strike. ”

“ So Tom, squeezing himself into Tommy’s suit and donning Tommy’s blue stockings, went out into the glare of centre field and nervously waited, wondering whether he would muff the first ball that came into his territory. As a matter of fact, he did, allowing the Union Vales to tally two runs, but after that he had five chances and accepted them all, while at bat he made the very creditable showing of two hits for a total of three bases out of six times up. The Amesville Blues won that game handily, and Tom returned home filled with [131] the joy of victory and a new enthusiasm for baseball. ”

“ He put himself in a hole with the first batsman when what should have been a straight one went wild, an out-shoot missed the plate by an inch and a drop was judged too low by the umpire. With three balls and no strikes, Tom recalled Mr. George’s advice and shook his head when Sam asked for an in-shoot. Instead he sent a ball straight over, fast but with nothing on, and scored a strike. Again Sam wanted a curve, and again Tom shook his head. This time, with a change of pace, he tried a slow ball in the groove, and the batsman struck and missed. ”

“ The second batter fell a victim to a high, straight ball, which went up from his bat and landed in shortstop’s eager hands. The third man proved a harder proposition, for he knocked innumerable fouls all over the place, after Tom had wasted two balls on him, and refused to have his [166] fate settled. Eventually, however, he rolled a slow one toward third and was out at first. His sacrifice, though, had put the first runner on the last sack and Lynton in the stand chanted lustily in an endeavour to rattle the Blues’ battery. ”

“ It was good practice, however, for Sidney and much fun for Tom. When other chaps showed up one of them would bat flies or grounders to the rest. Sometimes enough boys were present to permit of what they called “fudge,” each taking his turn at fielding, playing first base, pitching, catching, and batting. Tom’s enthusiasm for a recreation in which the rest might indulge at almost any time but which was forbidden to him, save at infrequent times, worked for proficiency and it wasn’t long before he could knock up high flies or crack out hot liners as unerringly as the best. ”

“ Walter faced the next batter desperately, got Buster’s signal, and let drive. It was a wild effort and only by dropping flat on the ground was Buster able to stop the ball and keep the man on third from racing home. When he got to his feet again he turned to the umpire and asked for time. Then, amidst the jeering shouts of the audience, he walked down to the box.
“Look here, Walt,” he said quietly, “you’re all in. If we can keep the score tied up, we may win in the next inning. Isn’t there any other fellow who can pitch a little!” ”

“ To be sure, there was criticism interspersed with the praise, for naturally enough Tom still showed inexperience, but Tom was quite as grateful for the criticism as for the praise. Mr. Cummings rubbed his hands all the way back—he seldom missed a game now—and beamed proudly upon Tom. One would have thought from the senior partner’s attitude toward the boy that he was directly responsible for the latter’s baseball prowess! The school viewed Tom as a hero and impatiently reiterated its former conundrum, Why had not Tom been allowed to pitch against Petersburg? ”

“ Cummings was there alone.
“Sit down a minute, Tom,” he said. “I want to talk about that department of yours. It’s done pretty well this winter. Did you know it?”
“I thought maybe it had,” answered Tom modestly. “I know we sold a good deal, sir.”
“We certainly did. And the profits in those goods are high, too. Now, look here, why don’t we go into the thing in earnest? I’ve talked to Mr. Wright about it and he’s agreeable. Why not put in a regular sporting goods department, eh? Aren’t there lots of things boys use in summer as well as winter?” ”

“ Captain Warner, however, was not so lenient, and regarded Tom with a scowl as he passed him on his way to second. “You want to keep your wits about you, Pollock,” he said severely, “when you play this game. Don’t you know enough to hold your base on an infield fly, when there’s only one out?” ”

“ When, as happened late in the spring, a sporting goods house in the East sent a demonstrator to exhibit a home exercising outfit in the window, the store and Tom’s department in particular received a whole lot of free advertising from the papers, while the crowds that assembled daily to watch the good-looking young athlete in the window go through his motions with the exerciser made many other merchants along Main Street green with envy. ”

“ That was Tom’s style, and Mr. George declared he couldn’t better it. “I’m not saying that a hard ‘wind-up’ may not give more speed, but there’s a lot of lost effort in it. Besides that, it gives a runner a fine chance to steal on you. Why, I’ve seen three men in one game steal home on a pitcher with a long ‘wind-up.’ Nowadays, with a fast runner on bases, the pitcher cuts out the ‘wind-up’ and pitches from the shoulder, not taking any chances, but what’s the good of learning to pitch one way if you’ve got to pitch another way a dozen times in a game? ”

“ Again Amesville took the field and again Tom, working with machine-like precision, mowed the enemy down in one, two, three order. For Amesville, Tommy Hughes struck out, Sidney reached first on a wild throw by second baseman, Smithie fanned, and Kenny went out to centre fielder. Calvert, the Petersburg slab artist, was in fine form to-day. When all is said, there’s nothing like a roasting hot day to show a pitcher at his best, and it was very evident that the redoubtable [315] Calvert, a small, wiry youth with a shock of hair the colour of butcher’s paper, liked the conditions. ”

“ Another strike—a low ball that just cut the outer edge of the plate—brought sighs of relief to the Amesville supporters. Then a foul went back of first and another glanced off the bat and was almost captured by Sam Craig. A wide one which the batsman refused brought the score two and three and Pete had put himself in a hole. Another foul past first spoiled one offering and then Pete put a fast one straight across and the batsman landed on it hard. In raced the men on bases and far out into the field sped the ball. ”

“ UNCLE ISRAEL SITS UP
It was nearly six o’clock when the team and its still enthusiastic supporters reached Amesville, and Tom, declining Sidney’s invitation to dinner, went on downtown and alighted at a corner near the hardware store. His train to Derry would not leave until a few minutes before eight and he had two hours to get rid of. He might have returned to the boarding-house, but he was in no mood to meet the tableful of people and have to recite the fortunes of the day. He would, he decided, go into a lunch room later and get a bite to eat. He wasn’t hungry, anyway. ”