The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1906-05-27

count o his havin' his own ketcher
mere, Mr.. BoweTman (pOintin' to mel,
ned start the game. while Mr. WaddeI
would hold down the initial sack.
You mean" says Dink, that you'll
hold down the initial sack yourself
while I show me prowess in the box"
oh, no. says Punk swellin' up
The great MathewsOn, .Champeen of
all box artists, master Of curves an
strategy. amt gOin' to give way to any
representative Of a way station like
PhilIy. Back"
Back yourself says Dink. Il know
what's what. I'm gOin' to pitch this
game. or bust the show"
I sh'd say not" says Punk. DO
you think III take any guff from you?
If you hadn't been a gutter you'd a
stuck to Mack in last years cham
peenship series against US. But YOU got
the yelleT streak
"Yeller, eh?'' screams Dink, an he
plans Punk one in the eye. Punk
comes back, an before we could sep
arate 'em >neither was in shape to
pitch with eighteen men backin' him
up. let alone three
Well. the aujience had had a dollars
worth q fun lOokin' at that scrap be-
tween the nations two premier pItCn-
ers; but they wanted a ball game. So
field an roJgh-hOuse the remnant Of
the National-Americans stars. Pinch
Hobbs gets out an says that as Mr..
Mathevson and Mr.. Wadden has had
q little disagreement. due to p'fessional
Jealousy. an not wishin' to disapnoint
this intelligent crowd him an his part
ner. Mr. BOwerman'H play the hull
Blin<ville nine-pitcher and ketcher
against the hull works.
Diu~l7 cots H., -,54~t,-..-
his famous twist ball, an ketch three
fouls for outs
The audience was breathless. The
idea o two men, no matter how good.
playin' nine, jest got EN-. They watched
every move We made
Pinch goes to bat an cracks out a
single. Swish, I put it out O. the lot
for a homer. The crowd cheered.
Pinch punches out a double. Slam,
I drilled one through the left field fence
for homer No. .. The crowd hurrahed
an flung IN hats Pinch got a base
on balls. Bif! We both go round
when I lose it in the long grass in
deep. center. The crowd gasps.
Pinch. sweaty but game. plugs out
d Texas Lacquer. near kill the right
fielder with a liner an go the big four
route again. The crowd hangs on to
the seats.
|
lift one out so far they had to get a
Telay/o' boys on bicycles to find the
ball.
Then the crowd comes right onto tho
field an carries me an Pinch off to
the biggest hotel in town. While We
was eatin' Wiped cream an Straw
berries an the mayor was film our
glasses with more beer, I says TO
Pinch.
''W'eres the gate receipts?'
''Ah, yes" says the manager o the
Blinkvilles. who was also Dlice judge.
Mr.. Mathewson an Mr. WaddelI. so
ashamed at losin' their tempers this aft
eTnOOn. took the guarantee an went
on to Mercedes, the next town, where
they'll arrange another game. They
said you'd meet 'em there
A straw berry goin' down PinCh's
throat met a snort an s1ot out of his
mouth an pasted d picture O. George
Washington across the room. sat
down a glass Of beer ntasted-some-
thin I rarely do
Excuse us. gents" says Pinch. I'VE
must be beatin' it. We must be at
that game"
They pleaded an pleaded, but We
dug.
Now it's a doubIe-barreled search
says Pinch. as we hit the railroad. "a
search for a leather-handIed ketcher an
a UNDETERMINED shOTt-stop an also an
likewise for two o the mellerest-
mouthed rOgues that ever claimed to
be Nv the nobility"
-'Mathewson,' says l. with q laugh.
''WaddeIII" says Pinch, with one O.
ms business chuckIes.
An we swung onto a fast freight.