The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1901-12-29
The Fall OF RuSI6

q Upon first blush the story of the fall
of the mlghtiest baseball pitcher the
world ever knew-Amos Rusie-from his
2 Sc, 000-a-year position to that of day
laborer, digging bitches for a Muncie,
Ind, Waterworks company, seems to be
the aen1e.oef the pathetic in the world OF
athletics.
Z But the tale which comes with the
evident badge of authenticity from
Rusie's home town points moral which
cannot be avoided. It tells of the honest
happiness of the big athlete, the radiant
satisfaction that clothes the face of his
devoted wife and the unadulterated con-
tentment that pervades the modest cot
tage home of the Rusies, says writer
in the Chicago Post.
big Amos, the man who had most
baseball teams licked before he step,
ped into the box to ptteh;, Terrible
Rusie,' whose name was winning
slogan for the New York team for years (;
the mighty Amos whose deeds and
prowess were the subjects of daily con-
yersations among fans, whether the lat
ter were professional men, 1nillionaires,
senators, clerks or small boys. earning
his $1.5o day by the sweat of his brow
in trench, his name being recorded on
the timekepeer's book as amos Rusie.
laborer, WAS matter to ponder.
But the report from Muncie says that
the big, good-natured fellow, whose uni
form of the conventional ditch digger
red shirt fits neatly his rather port1y
form, is not ashamed of his calling AS
he was found throwing up elods of frozen
earth, he philesophically remarked, my
arm seems to have gone back on me-.
The lightninglike delivery with which he
used to shoot the ball over the plate has
changed to a side swing delivery which
effectively lands the earth and debris far
from the water pipe trench. "Can'
strike anybody out Of this game Rusie
unused, .'but it's honest, and I'm not
afraid to work {"
When the days work is over Rusie
returns to his happy home-fortunately
he OWNS the cottage and ground, as it
is about the only thing left of his once
generous worldly wealth-where his
bTight-eyed wife greets him with a
merry welcome.
Mrs. Rusie, the woman who always OBJ
jected to her husbands being bail
player, although the remuneration for
six months work was more than q day
laborer would receive for several years
/ of hard toll, was once compelled to ge, a
Is divorce from the big ball player. Mis-
fortunes came quickly to Rusie. He
Hooked upon that which inebriateS, it was
commonly reported, and resigned himself
to the society of good fellows :. the
latter shared his money with him That
grim specter which is bound to come be-
fore the careless athlete-the shadow. of
selessness-appeared to Rusie. He rea-
lized that dissipation and reckless living
had made him fat, lazy, sindiferent-had
destroyed his value as pitcher. In vain
he tried to prepare himself for the fray,
and agreed to pitch for Cincinnati. Once
he stood on the slab in a National league
game as a red But the rival team
feared him not, The hard hitters saw
In the wreck Of the former Mighty
Rusie' only big fellow who was bound
to @fatten' their batting averages. And
that marked the full measure of the pub
lie humiliation of Rusie. His ball play
ing days evidently were over
Ia The patient little wife. who flew. TO
her spouse in his hour of trouble, show
ed her devotion to him by agreeing to a
ceremony of marriage again, and began
the work of rebuilding her disheartenea
companion.
THE most unhappy hours of my life, :
she said, were those in which Amos
shone with the greatest possible Brit
liancy in the baseball world. / knew he
never could be kind and good husband
while he was under the glare OF the
calcium. I hoped and prayed for the
time when he would be dethroned from
his tottering pedestal Of diamond glory :
Unless man is well poised $3.50
salary for pitching an aggregate OF less
than 100 hours during a baseball sea-
son, is likely to bring hirn into the
temptations that greeted Rusie- The
wife is happy, the husband is happy ana
neither thinks the big world owes them
any pity.
I'm leading. a good, clean, honest
life, says Rusie, and I am the last