The Climax-Madisonian. (Richmond, Madison County, Ky.) 1914-1917, 1915-06-02
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This is not a baseball story. The
grand stand does not rise as one man
and shout itself hoarse with joy There
isn't three-bagger in the entire three
thousand words, and nobody is carried
home on the shoulders of the crowd.
For that sort of thing you need not
squander fifteen cents on your ia
vorite magazine. The modest sum of
one cent will make you the possessor
of Pink I'm. There you will find the
seasons games handled in mastery
fashion by a six-best-seller artist, an
expert mathematician, and an original
slang humorist. No mere short story
dub may hope to compete with these.
In the old days, before the gentry of
the ring had learned the wisdom of
investing their winnings in solids in
stead of liquids, this used to be a
favorite conundrum: When is a prize
fighter not a prize fighter?
Chorus: When he is tending bar.
rise to ask you, Brother Fan, when
is a ball player not a ball player?
Above the storm of facetious replies
shout the answer
When he's a shoe clerk.
Any man who can look handsome in
a dirty baseball suit is an Adonis
There is something about the baggy
pants, and the Micawber-shaped collar,
and the skull-fitting cap, and the foot
or so of tan, or blue, or pink under
shirt sleeve sticking out at the arms,
that just naturally kills a mans best
points. Then, too, baseball suit re.
ont 4, IL, g l..
Therefore, when L say that Rude
Schlachweiler was a dream even in his
baseball uniform, with dirty brown
streak right up the side of his pants
where he had slid for base, you may
know that the girls camped on-the
grounds during the season.
During the summer months our ball
park is to us what the Grand Prix is
to Paris, or Ascot is to London. What
care we that Evers gets ten thousand
a year Cor is it a month";; or that
Chicago's South side ball park seats
thirty-five thousand Tor is it million?)
OF what interest are such meager items
compared with the knowledge that
Pug" Coulan, who plays short, goes
with Undine Meyers, the girl up there
in the eighth row, with the pink dress
and the red roses on her hat? When
| Pug snatches a high one out of the
] armament we yell with delight, and
even as we yell we turn sideways to
look up and see how 6ndine is taking
it Undine's shining eyes are fixed on
Pug" and he knows 1t, stoops to
brush the dust off his dirt-begrimed
baseball pants, takes an attitude of
careless grace and misses the next
play.
Our grand stand seats almost two
thousand, counting the boxes. But
only the snobs, and the girls with new
hats, sit in the boxes. Box seats are
comfortable, it is true, and they cost
only an additional ten cents, but we
have come to consider them undemo-
cratic. and unworthy of true fans Mrs
Freddy Van Dyne. who spends her
winters in Egypt and her summers at
the ball park. comes out to the game
every afternoon in her automobile, but
she never occupies box seat; so why
should we? She perches up in the
grand stand with the rest of tho en-.
thusiasts. and when Kelly puts one over
she stands up and clinches her fists,
and waves her arms and shouts with
the best of EN-. She has even been
known to cry, Good eyeI Good eyei"
when things were at fever heat The
only really blase individual in the
ball park is Willie Grimes, who ped
dies ice cream cones. For that matter,
once saw While turn languid head
to pipe, in his thin voice, Give EN- a
dark one. Dutchl Give 'em a dark
one
Well. that v1iI do for the first dash