Evening star., 1922-09-17

so much when he went up to bat,
US guys on the bench use to move
| the water bucket out of the way. 1t
looked like he was trying to Sit down
in it. We got him to stick the old
| stomach up there. and the first thing
you know. he became a regular hit
tin fool. You try that Tom-stand
right up and crowd the old plate"
One after another he tried these
suggestions. and became beautifully
confused. Throw a race horse out
Of his stride and he's gone. 1t is the
same way with a ball player in the
grip OF or Joe Slump. only the man
has Imagination. and makes it worse.
Twice he failed in a pinch. when any
old kind of a hit would have meant
victory to a hard-working pitcher.
He wished fervently that Brick Nc
Govern would crab at him-bawl him
| out before the whole team; but the
manager had nothing to say. This
silence added to Barry's uneasiness.
He knew that it was only a ques-
ton Of time before McGovern would
be compelled to act. The newspa-
pers and the fans were already
commenting on the collapse Of
the big bombardier. Barry took
mornings for an hour OF batting
practice. 1t was the one thing he
shouldn't have done. When an ath-
lete grows stale, additional work is
suicide.
- n r
THE passing weeks brought no
i change in the situation. The
club moved from Los Angeles to
Salt Lake and then to Sacramento.
Night-times, Barry sat in the hotel
lobbies, writing letters to Maizie. No
longer could he conceal the fact that
the dreaded demon of the diamond
had laid its spell upon him. He rea-
lized that his wife would surely have
seen the papers and heard the gossip
that always trickles in the wake of
a ball club.
But there amt nothing to worry
about" he wrote. IT'S just slump.
and I'll come out of it all right. May
be tomorrow I'll get to going. Send
me a lock Of the kids hair"
Maizie sent q wisp of brown hair
tied with q pink ribbon, and wrote
page upon page describing all the
cute things tho baby did. She said
not a word about his trouble except
to assure him that she knew every
thing was going to be lovely. Maizie,
he told himself, was sure a plucky
little sport.
"But I'm through" he reasoned.
'She don't realize it, but I'm through!
It amt no slump I'm thirty seven,
and I've shot my bolt. When go up
to tho plate, I amt there! l amt
never going to get my hits again.
Gosh almighty. whatIl 1 do"
When tho team returned- home
Maizie greeted her husband just as
IL he were still tho monarch of swat
snithA Neither Of them referred to
the subject upDsrmost in both their
mindA Talking would do no good.
Their conversation was mostly con-
oerning tho tender details OF young
pareuthood. Thomas Junior was a
wonderful baby.
It was tho sixth week since OF
Joe Slump had twined his tentacles
around tho body and soul OF Brick
Moaovern's big shortstop. Mrs. Barry.
furtively watching the evening
papers saw q few lines one night In
q sporting extra:
"shortstop Barry will be out OF the
Sams for . little while with an In
turod knesoap His place Will be
nlIsd. By young Bob ormsby."
Maisie knew enough about the game
to comprehend that this was the
usual managerial method Of letting
q veteran player down easy. The big
bludgeoneer was still in uniform.
but withdrawn to the sideHnes.
They discussed 1t only once. and
that was several days after the great
change hsd O0cuvrod .63