Imperial Valley press., 1934-04-19
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By HENRY McLEMORE
United Press Staff Correspondent

By HENRY McLEMORE
United Press Staff Correspondent
NEW YORK, April 19.-Speaking
not only for the down trodden fra
ternity of sports writer's, but for the
general, fun-loving public, your cor
respondent wishes today to launch
vigorous campaign.
This campaign is for the removal
! of the Polo grounds and the Yam
kee stadium to some more conven-
lent location in New York in order
that persons interested in baseball
may witness same without endan-
gering their lives, their limbs, other
peoples property and other peoples
lives, and limbs. These jernts should
be fetched out of the craggy fast
nesses of the Bronx and put in some
logical locality, such as Central
Park, or even the Battery.
1t will be necessary at first to
gain popular support for the cam
paign. A great many of my readers,
I'm sure, haven't even known up to
now whether the Polo grounds and
the Yankee stadium were in Colum-
bia-t -the-Gem- of -the-Ocean or in
foreign climes. For their rudimen-
tary knowledge, they are to all in
tents and purposes in far foreign
climes. And what climes! Sheer
cliffs!
The mechanics involved in getting
| to the Polo grounds are more abb
struSe than those necessary to get
to the houSe-that-Ruth-b built. 1t is
an abomination and a curse, an out
rage and a dod-gasted shame. Folks,
if this wasn't family newspaper,
I'd say worse than that.
You get on subway at Grand
Central when you want to go out to
see the worlds champions give off
a game. You get on and you go
hurtling under the ground with a
guy sitting in the motorman's cab
singing Take Me Where the
Daisies Cover the Country Lane" !"
and beating his Hoover against the
steel door to keep time.
Docs Strip Act
You whammety-wham up the
length of Manhattan, go under the
Harlem river, past the Yankee sta
dium and then you fight your way
out to the platform. You maneuver
your way beneath the tracks to an
other platform to catch what is
known as shuttle train" By the
time you get on this internal ma
chine, half the buttons are off your
coat, you shoes look like you had
| come through the dismal swamp in
a great hurry, you are under an
anaesthetic from garlic breaths, and
your ribs, unless they are very stur-
| dy, are swinging on rusty hinges.
Then comes the tunnel. The chan
ces are you're standing in the open,
on a platform. You go into this
! tunnel and a man, grown suddenly
afraid, belts you in the mouth try
ing to get inside the car and un-
der seat. A woman yelps that she
wants to get off and the conduct
or hollers: "Quit hangin' over them
doors, you fool"
Anyway, you finally get there. You
go to the game. 1t is nice and quiet
except for alternate sports writer's
standing behind you and dropping
cigar ashes and orange seeds down
your neck while you try TO score
the plays.
When the game is over the fun
really-really, really, I mean-the
fun really begins. 1t took me three
hours yesterday to get from the Po-
10 grounds to my office, a trip which
ordinarily takes rs minutes. Some
body owes me a hat, new shoe
strings. The topcoat will never see
fall weather. My tie looks like an
anarchist had chawed on it. One
did. My dogs are a-frettin' me. Ever
yet.
And to think that got TO see, fol
the second time this year, the
worlds champs
Phooey!
Copyright, 1894, by United Press