Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1931-04-12

that there was some sort of evil power some
where that just wouldn't let him have that no.
hit game And now they'd begun to call him
a veteran, so he could figure he hadn't many
more seasons in which to pitch that game 1t
got on his mind SO that he couldn't talk about
anything else. All around the league the boys
began to kid him and to call him "No-Hit
Brown" He didn't mind that. He was going
to pitch that game If he had to throw his
arm of doing it.
Around mid-season in this thirteenth year he
got the break he'd been praying for It was a
gray, cloudy day, and his fast one right.
He Whizzed 1t across and the opposing batters
claimed later that the air around the plate was
hot from the steam John put on the onion.
They were moved down, without hit, till the
ninth, and John was trembling when he walked
out to pitch, that last inning. He got the first
man ON . called third strike, made the next
pop out and there was only one man between
him and his perfect game
Now it's . custom in the big leagues a sort
of unwritten law, that when q pitcher gets that
close to no-hit game the last man up doesn't
try TO spoil his record. The last man up was Q
cocky kid named Riker, who'd been easy for
John all day. The first pitch Riker missed by
foot. John buzzed another over In the same
place and Riker didn't swing tin the ball was
on its way back from the catcher.
With one ball to 60, John put one over the
heart OF the dish. Maybe this Riker didn't
KNOW. any DcGCcrs MAYBE Ne was J496 q COcky
kid who wanted to make name for himself.
Maybe he was thinking Of the newspaper head
lines Anyhow. here he was facing the famous
John Brown and here was O BAN o schoolgirl
could have hit with . pencil. So young Rlker
kissed it right on the nose and over the wall.
John Brown just watched 1t sail, threw down
his glove, and stalked to the showers. Some Of
the boys claimed that he stayed under the cold
water half an hour 20 nobody could tell he was
crying.
It was his turn to work again, i've days later.
and the first batter up whaled Johns pitch for
q double, the next man slammed out Q single
and the third man dented the fence John
was in there trying, trying hard as he always
did, but something was missing. II wasn't his
arm. That felt spry enough It was some
thing inside him. You know there isn't much
difference between . ball . batter can't touch
and one that he can kill. The thing that
causes that little difference isn't In q mans
muscles. guess It's in his heart.
The Old Man left John In, hoping he'd
shake of his weak streak, but John was Q
helping Of mince pie for the other team that
day and they'd still be running the bases II
John hadn't been chased to the clubhouse.
Just an or day. hey, John?" the Old Man
said after the game. John was sitting hunched
over in q corner Of the locker room. He hadn't
even taken on his unie. He didn't say any
thing.
In his next game he was just as bad Worse.
everything ne served up they hanged flgnC
back and he didn't last inning The Old
Man began to get worried. John was his ace.
Our club wasn't 50 hot that year and was
down near the cellar, but the Old Man always
fights to the last ditch and he was counting on
old John.
He couldn't make out what allied John From
q Southpaw you an expect anything - they're
all bugs; but John was rieht-hand thrower
and considered wen balanced, and the Old Man
knew he wouldn't deliberately quit, and he
knew, too, It couldn't be booze, cards, women
or the ponies. because John never touched any
OF them.
WHEN the team got back home, It was the
w same old story. That little extra zip
wasn't on the pill for John that's ell. The Old
Man was frantic and he tried everything CIV