Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1909-06-26

some Of his more comely fellow play
ers. What impresSeS me most about
him is that he never seems to become
chesty or self-satisfied, despite the ev-
erlasting praise that is being showered
on him at all times. He works as hard
as the veriest tyro, and his interest in
his playing never seems to slacken or
grow cold. He loves the game and he
will play it just as'long as he can, de-
spite the fact that now and then ru-
mors go the rounds that he is going to
retire. I do not think he could stop
playing if he wanted to. He might
lay off week or so, but then I know
he'd have that lonesome feeling and get
back into the harness once more.
The good ball player l imagine. is just
like The actor or actress. After he has
| made good, to quote the popular phrase,
he tries to hang on just as long as pos
sible, and that fine day in the summer
that he is out of uniform finds him
| homesick and fidgety
When was girl used to play ball
| a lot and filled in every position on the
diamond 1t was in those days that 1
picked up whatever little l knew about
baseball. remember that then the one
great sorrow of my youthful heart was
| that l had not been born a man so that
| | might be great ball player. Even
now, at times, have the same feeling
| Why. I'd rather sit on a fence in the
| burning sun and watch crowd of
youngsters playing scrub, with trees
for bases and a bunch of string for
ball, than go anywhere else that
know of.
L remember one day several years
ago | was watching one of these boys
games, just where 1 cannot recollect.
The score was pretty even, and the UNI
pire, a ragged little urchin, much
smaller than the boys in the game
was having all kinds of trouble. in fact
/ expected every moment to see sever
al of the players, whom he had en-
ragged, pounce upon him and handle
him roughly. Still, he escaped punish
ment and bawled forth his decisions in
stentorian tones. 1t came to the last of
the ninth and the score was tie. The
team at bat had one out and the
yourgster up hit little grounder to
the pitcher Another one of the play
ers who was on third dashed madly
for the plate. The pitcher picked the
ball up and hurled it swiftly to the
waiting catcher. His jumps, who was
passing his judgments from back of
| the pitcher ran also to the base that
he might watch the play better. The
baserunner was palpably out, but Just
| as the arbitrator was about to make
his announcement, one of the team that
was in. rushed over to the plate with a
| bat poised over his shoulder, and look
| ing at the umpire asked gruffly: "How
WIS he?" Hes safe" came the reply
after a terrified glance at the question
| er. Then the unhappy youth increased
his speed, dove through the fence and
hoped on the running board of pass
ing trolley, and before the enraged
members Of the losing team had real
| lied what had come to pass. was gone
from sight. Then ensued the bloody
conflict incidental to most boys con-
tests. That little umpire will be good
ball player some day, think. He sure
~ showed that he knew how to use his
head on this one occasion.
Travelling as much as do, one meets
all kinds Of people and sees all kinds
of sights. In the course of my wander
ings l have had occasion to meet quite
few of the big leaguers. and in ev-
cry instance l have found them de-
lightful gentlemen, by no means the
rather uncultured beings that many
people seem to consider them. From the
members of the profession that 1 am
acquainted with, am sure that 1 was
| not wrong in my girlhood days when I
| thought that to be ball player was
one of the greatest things on earth.