The Detroit tribune. (Detroit, Mich.) 1935-1966, 1942-06-06
B E A 7 | N G
I H E G u N
BY ALVIN MOSES

sho ulitSt VI tOtaA wal buoC-
ball. is the high priest OF Sum-
mer sports. While many sports
played in the vast outdoors has its
social side, baseball Is tops as we
view il, due TO its utter lack OF
formality.
You invite a party to drop In at
Yankee Stadium some Sunday aft
ernoon where teams OF the Nation
al Negro Baseball league are play
ing league game. Announcer Joe
Bostic yodels through the mike that
the honorable so and so will
say a word and you sit back
to listen. He's finished and some
slightly inebriated colored-brothe
bounces out of the aisle close TO
where friend wife and party
are sitting and in a fairly good imi-
tation OF a foghorn bellows
away.
who's got any Black Yankee
money does you all hear me
or are you deaf?" Nobody pays the
slightest attention TO him for the
moment as somebody exclaims /.
"there goes Hazel Scott, the Cafe
Society marvel" Like the Roxettes
/. precision dancing squad ow New
York's fer famed playhouse :. :.
every head turns In the direction
where the wasp-waisted young pref
ty points. It's Hazel. all right. All
decked out like Miss Astor's
pet pony and is she on parade.
She stops to cast with "a. fell
low club member Ralph Coop
err. currently starring at Murrains
swank cabaret. and bunch Of adj
mirers quickly surround them in
quest OF autographs and pho
tographs. Now we hear the line
up being announced through ad-
dress system and the stands are
filling up 10 the total OF around IL
or Is thousands.
Looking like darker complex
Toned Joe Louis Tin baseball sort
OF way), -. comes Josh" Gibson.
glamour boy OF the famous :.
Homestead Grays, pride Of See and
Cumberland Posey and the
crowd literally goes berserk. CeIe-
brities. politicians, outstanding ply
sicians and attorneys. vice over
lords (s-s-s-h). all are forgotten
as, this symbol OF all that
stands for excellence in Americas
favorite pastime. takes his
catching post.
Fans who've never gotten close
to him than rs feet yell 4. What
ia say Josh, old kid; 4. You're
my boy. show them that Bill
Dickey (he's a New York Yankee
slave) doesn't even play In |
your league" The big, broad shout
dered likable brown boy focusts
his entire attention upon his mates.
II he hears these apparently
"close friends" one wo u 4
never divine so from the notice he
takes OF them. Josh knows he's
good >. but you do not gather the
impression that he Is conscious OF
the fact. That attribute. - Is the
thing that makes Josh great, - not
merely e. good.
Old friends 60 searching for each
other In the grandstand.
We leave the press coop to Join
that lovely wife OF ours who awaits
our return in section "a. She
waves and smiles latter IL years
OF marrIage) sweetly as We hove
into view. on all sides we hear
dyed-in- the-wool ball fans call out
what say, Alvin" and :. we
answer in like manner. Out Of that
sea OF faces we spy an old bust
ness (real estate) associate. flush
ing. Long Islands Number One
citizen Joe Mahood. Joe's
alone, and we invite him TO yell
with us. and he graciously accepts.
Having no children of our own.
/ remind WHEY that Joe has flock
OF EN- four. Just one less than
Eddie Cantor's TALL girls) Ave.
Joe let's that sink In second. for
he's a. swift a. an airplane on |
repartee. and comes back with q
gem OF witticism, f. we thought |
ffY fnfap nfra Maana wour