The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-04-22

New York, April Some times people ask me why I am a sports writer, and their very tone tells me that they think my busi- ness is an unimportant one and doesn't matter much in the world scheme of things.
 Sometimes I almost feel they're right and then again along comes an afternoon like yesterday after noon, when the Breeze is soft and the sun is warm, and the Polo Grounds is all bright and green, and Raymond Brinkerhoff eXperi- ences the thrill that comes once in a lifetime.
 I don't know of any business that i let's a man look on human emo- tions more than sportsWriting does, I've been at it 10 years now, and it seems I'm always watching men cryin', men dyin', men sighin', men laughin' or men hurtin' all the time.
 Take Raymond Brinkerhoff at the Polo Grounds yesterday. You never heard of him. I had never heard of him either until Casey Stengel, Boston Bees manager, yelled across the dugout and said that if I want ed to see the biggest pair of hands in che world, I should get load of that kid over by the batting cage. Casey pointed to gangling boy, cutfitted in ragged old uni form that didn't come close to fit ting him.
 Casey yelled:
 Come ere Raymond!"
 Raymond came over, and as he stood there, all elbows and knees and neck and all the other things that go to make up boy who hasn't quite yet become man, Casey told me about him.
 About a year ago, Casey, on his way to Brooklyn from a show in New York, had a flat tire. He pulled into filling station in Greenwich Village, and there was Raymond Raymond recognized Casey and told him that he was a great amateur pitcher and wanted to know how to get a job with d ball club. Casey told him to write manager and ask for a tryout. Casey wasn't a manager then, but he hadn't been signed with Boston more than week before he got letter from Raymond.
 Casey thought it was a gag, but answered and said, When I come to town with the Bees, meet me at the Polo Grounds"
 Raymond met him yesterday-in homemade baseball suit, worn out shoes, and cap that didn't fit.
 Casey Stengel is a sweet man as well as a funny man. So during batting practice, he told Raymond to go out and throw to the hitters He thought that Raymond would be scared, nervous, shaky and no good. Raymond fooled him. Loose as Hubbell, Raymond whipped 'em across the plate. The 15,0OO early customers in the Polo Grounds who were watching, didn't bother him bit A fast ball. A change of pace. A curve. Raymond threw them all up there. Before he was through, Stengel was watching him closely. So were Turned and Fete, Bostons star pitchers. And on the other side of the field, the old master Hubbell stopped his warm- ing up to take look, as did Terry and Gus Mancuso and others who know a natural pitching motion when they see one.
 Raymond came back to the dug out. Casey asked him if he could go to Boston with the Bees.
 Not for couple of days, MT. Stengel," Raymond said, because my only suit is in hook. hooked it for $5.75, and I'll have to work two days on the docks unloading ships to get it out. But when I do I'll come to Boston"
 Casey had him throw some to a catcher. How do you throw when men are on base?" Casey asked, wanting to find out if he knew anything about position when run ners were on.
 T pitch bettern ever when guys are on base" Raymond said naively.
 If you come to Boston, will you be homesick?" Casey asked.
 '"The dough will make up for that" Raymond answered. And then he asked a question, you guys don't get homesick, do you?"
 "Well-listen Raymond" Casey said, don't you play night ball down there in Greenwich Village? How do I know you would do all right in daylight?"
 "Mr. Casey" Raymond answered, i've don't have night ball where I