The Waterbury Democrat., 1937-10-09
HUBbELL ONLY OBSTACLE TO
 TANK CLEANUP
World Champs Expected to Win Four Straight;
 6 Errors for Giants
By GEORGE KSIRKsEY

4AYAA0HAOG4
 United Press Stan Correspondent
 New York, Oct. .9--(UP)-Like King Canute, who commanded the angry waves to stand still, Carl Hubbell goes to the mound at the Polo Grounds today in a desperate attempt to keep the Giants in the world series.
 The odds on Hubbell are about the same as they were on Canute, who, If you remember, got his feet wet.
 The Yankees needed only today's game to sweep on to four straight world series triumphs. They have beaten every pitcher Manager Bill Terry has sent against them; they have averaged seven runs Q game; they have held theGiants to three runs in 27 innings.
 Chewing a fat cigar, Manager Joe Mccarthy of the Yankees reached far back into the rear row of his pitching strength and called on Bump Hadley, an 1n-and-outer all season to start against the Giants.
 What matters 1t, Mccarthy req soned, who pitches for the Yankees, so long as Dimaggio, Gehrig, Dickey and company, are up there swing ing?
 The Yankees have scored enough runs in one inning of each game to beat the Giants. Their attack has rolled and roared like the surf on & storm whipped beach. -.
 And there stands King Canute Hubbell today, commanding the Yankee waves to stand still.
 There he is, seeking to beat back the storm with the power of his buggy-whip left arm; trying to ap- pease the roaring winds with Q drifting, dipsy-do screw ball. Once before in this series he tried and took that long slow walk to the dug out with Yankee base hits ringing dirge in his ears. That was in the first game when they blasted him out of the box and the waves rolled over the Giants.
 Thursday and yesterday he slouched in the dug-out and heard the roar and ring of Yankee power. He saw Melton, Coffman, Schu- macher, Gumbert, Brennan and Smith blown high and dry on the beach, derelicts of the storm.
 Yesterdays game was the same old story. The Giants got their cus- tomary one run. The Yankees, who made eight in each of the first two games, went into @ terrific slump and only got five. The Giants brought the crowd, already halfway out of the Polo Grounds, back into the aisles by filling the bases in the ninth inning. But Harry Dan. ming, Giant catcher who had one foot on the glory road. hit a pop fly to center field and Joe Dimaggic buried the Giants hopes in his big brown glove.
 All afternoon Monte Pearson had been curving the Giants to death, outguessing them on the money pitches and nicking the plate until the corners looked like the business end of a buzz-saw. For five and two- thirds innings he didn't give the Giants a hit, and then Lou Chiozza bunted, and like the deer he is, beat 1t out down to first. After that the Giants got four more hits and run mot that 1t mattered. ...
 The only thing they could take away from Pearson is that he lost control in the ninth inning when the bases were filled and Manager Joe Mccarthy beckoned Johnny (Grand- mol Murphy from the bull pen to suppress the only Giant threat of the day. .a. ......
 Yesterday is gone. and today King Canute Hubbell goes forth with only two days rest-slim, almost frail, but a man who won 22 games in the National league this year. Ordinarily he needs three days rest. His arm and his legs are tired. He pitches today on the strength of his stout heart and the cunning of his brain. He IS the last sandbag on the Giants dike; either the sea stands still this afternoon or Skipper Bill Terry sinks with all hands lost.
 Behind Hubbell stands a woe- begone crew that has made more errors than 1t has runs. Errors: six; runs, three. Gone Is the ironbound Giant infield of Mccarthy, White head, Bartell and Ott-gone because they booted away chances that 2 Podunk college sophomore could have taken in his stride. Gone is the great defensive outfleld of Moore, Chioxza and Ripple gone be- cause they allowed singles to be stretched into doubles, allowed ground balls to trickle away into fywnbles. g..
 On past performance, Hubbell must pitch a perfect game--N men up, 27 men down--to win today's ball game. Nothing less will do.
 There he is. Q mere man trying to Quell q storm, a human being