Evening star., 1924-10-11

They may be red-blooded men on
the diamond, those world champions
of ours, but they were just rank
schoolboys in the clubhouse after
that melodrama at the Georgia
avenue stadium yesterday afternoon.
Schoolboys toss their hats in the
air, shout, hug each other, weep for
JOY and do other childish things when
they celebrate a victory. So did
Bucky Harris and his crew of young
upstarts right after Earl McNeely
crashed that high bounder to the out
field that labeled him a $4,000 bar
gain and his team an aggregation of
world beaters.
That poise. that rock ribbed stead
mess in the face of almost over
whelming breaks" of the game, that
determined reserve that kept taxed
nerves and emotions in bounds at
critical moments during this soul
trying series just passed-blew up
like so much dynamite as Muddy
Ruel raced gloriously over the old
home plate.
McNeeIy Nearly "Iobbed."
Into the dugout they rushed, yelling
and gesticulating like mad, as the
grandstands simultaneously emptled
their bowling masses of humanity
onto the field Police fought vainly
TO stem the tide of worshiping fans
who stormed the dugout and the en-
trance to the players clubhouse.
McNeely, the last Washington player
to leave the field. due to his race to
first base with the winning single
was caught in the maelstrom OF
frenzied men and women and nearly
mobbed in alteration His shirt was
torn and disarranged before he finally
succeeded in disappearing down the
clubhouse steps.
Into the dressing and shower rooms
the valiant team rushed, screaming
words of praise at one another
pounding backs, shaking old walter
Johnsons famous hand as though IT
were the handle on the town pump
back in notwithstanding like KIDS
at an orphanage when Santa Claus
comes.
Gen. Bucky Harris was WITH essing
the decentralization of his forces. Inc
discipline, the soldierly spirit that
few moments ago had led them TO
superlative deeds had deserted them.
In fact, the general himself had been
the first to blow the lid on. The
crucial strain was over, the victory
won, and tense nerves could not
forego the delirious outburst.
Rucky Goes wild.
Bucky. the "impossibly" young big
league manager who had done the
impossible" was actirg the part of
the plain, happy boy that he was.
He could not get his wits together
enough after emerging from the
shower to find his clothes and put
them on. Up and down the dressing
room he paced, patting his beloved
boys" on the back. squeezing both of
L.; '.-bn Iii dich
delight ard admiration, wringing his
own hands in nervous glee-the boy
manager was nearly crazy with glad
ness.
The other players were rapidly get
ting into their street clothes and pre-
pairing to run the gauntlet of the
shrieking fans outside the club house
and Bucky still was unable to settle
down enough to remember how to get
dressed AS he talked to several
newspaper men he stood before a
mirror and combed that black hair
into a careful part" forgetting COM
pletely that he had not yet a stitch
of clothing on.
Mike Martin. club trainer. began to
have fears that Bucky would have a
nervous collapse and urged the ex-
cited boy to quiet down. Get away
from here, Mike" laughed Harris.
"Thcre'S nothing the matter with me,
but I've just got to blow off steam.
You can't blame me for that, can
you?'
johnson Tiekled silly.
Walter was among the first dressed.
On that familiar face was the first
hearty smile he had been able to pro-
duce since going down to defeat twice
before in the series. This was an ear
to-ear smile that was not manufac-
tured.
I'm the happiest man in the world
the happiest man in the world
the Big Train laughed to a Star re-
porter in the dressing room. Tell
everybody I'm tickled to death and
anything else along the same line
you can think of. I'll stand back of
anything you say. as I can't express
my feelings in words at all right
now. can never thank Bucky
enough for having confidence in me
again after my two other failures,
and I'm happy ! didn't disappoint him
and my friends" Walter said he was
going out of town until Monday, and
later would leave Washington again
for Coffeyville, his mothers home.
and then go to his home on the coast.
Clark Griffith could hardly refrain
from crying as he embraced the team,
manager. I'm certainly proud Fof
you, Bucky boy" he repeated again
and again, while he hugged him as
a father would his son. 49,.