The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1918-07-26

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Now, ladies and gentlemen. let me
call your attention to an experience
narrated by Dixon Merritt, OF the As
sistant Secretary's Office, Department
of Agriculture, OF how he got in that
day when the Holloway Hard Hitters
tackled Cumberland University. Here
goes:
Cumberland UniversIty-at Leb-
anon. Tenn. you know. and at that
time very nearly the premier in col
lege baseball in the South-was going
| to play a practice game with Hol-
loway Hard Hitters. a herd Of huskies
from the high hay. The Hard Hit
tiers were hoe stun. but Frank Glenn
mons, the star pitcher, had jerked his
| arm to jelly winning a double
header from the Drennontown Tigers
the day before, and 1t was conceded
that the best the Hard Hitters could
do was to take a strategic defeat
81 had . big cousin and q whole
heart with the Hard Hitters, but I
hadn't the 20 cents to buy me a place
IN the sun. So went away disconso-
late down TO the public square and
persuaded q farmer to give me a raw
sweet potato out of his wagon for my
lunch. l suppose my good anger
guided me there, for while l was
m1nching that potato there came
along two fellows talking about base
bail, and one of them was a lanky,
red-headed giant, and he was telling
about his exploits as a pitcher in
some bush league the year before and
how he hated to have to leave base
ball and come back home to run his
mammy's farm.
IAN idea hit me and intense yearn-
ing made me bold. 1 scratched my
of ankle with my nigh big toe and
inquired, How'd you like to pitch a
game today? He said he'd like II.
and 1 managed to pull him to where
the Hard Hitters were corraled ready
to go to the grounds. The captain
didn't like him, and was ready to
go drown myself in the town spring.
But the catcher. a midget called Min
now because his name was Fish.
said: H, Toll, you might as well:
we're whipped anyhow, and Frank
can't pitch no more this year IL he
pitches today Toll did, and I went
in as mascot under the wing of my
find.
THAT red-headed ringer had every
thing. He even had spitbaIls, though
that was years before the spitball was
discovered in the big leagues. The
score was 10 to in favor of the Hard
Hitters. And I had a free seat right
down front at all the rest OF the
games that season."
A Little Bit O. BIarney.
Leo ]. Coughlin, OF 937 Twenty
third street, tells how a bit o. blarney
got him into a game at the old Hunt
ington avenue American League Park,
in Boston. The Red Sox play over at
Fenway Park now, but we've seen
hundreds OF games at Huntington
avenue ourselves. Let Friend Cough
lin spin his yarn:
81 noticed in today's Times that you
wished to know how we 'old-timers'
sneaked into the big league games.
Like yourself, l am a Boston Kid
born and brought up in the old South
End.
THE queerest way I ever got into a
game was way back in the DAYS of
Freddie Parent, Jimmy Collins, etc.
], with a lot OF other kids, were
hanging around the 25-cent entrance
of the old Huntington avenue
grounds. Tim Murphy, a Boston
cop, was taking the tickets, and as l
knew Tim had a soft place in his
heart for old Galway back in Ire
land, ! went up to him and. putting
on an Irish brogue, asked him IL IL
was soccer football game, telling
him at the same time that II It was,
1t couldn't be, as good as the game in
old Ireland.
"The tears came to old Tins eyes
and he said. Sure. me lad, pass in and
see what you'd call it
And walked in majesticaIIy while
the other kids looked on wonderingIy
as TO how ! had worked it."