menu_book Chapter 13

CHAPTER 1. YOU KNOW ME, AL by Ring Lardner. Terra Haute, Indiana, September 6. Friend Al. Well, Al, old pal, I suppose you've seen in the paper where I've been sold to the White

Sox. Believe me, Al, it comes as a surprise to me, and I bet it did to all you good old pals down home. You could have knocked me over with a feather when the old man come up to me and says, Jack, I've sold you to the Chicago Americans.

I didn't have no idea that anything like that was coming off. For five minutes I was just dumb and couldn't say a word. He says, We aren't getting what you are worth, but I want you to go up to that big league and show those birds that there is a central league on the map.

He says, Go and pitch the ball you've been pitching down here, and there won't be nothing to it. He says, All you need is the nerve, and Walsh or no one else won't have nothing on you. So I says I would do the best I could, and I thanked him for the treatment I got in Terra Haute.

They always was good to me here, and though I did more than my share, I always felt that my work was appreciated. We are finishing second, and I done most of it. I can't help but be proud of my first year's record in professional baseball, and you know I am not boasting when I say that, Al.

Well, Al, it will seem funny to be up there in the big show, when I never was really in a big city before. But I guess I've seen enough of life not to be scared of high buildings, eh, Al? I will just give them what I got, and if they don't like it, they can send me back to the old Central and I will be perfectly satisfied.

I didn't know anybody was looking me over, but one of the boys told me that Jack Doyle, the White Sox scout, was down here, looking at me when Grand Rapids was here. I beat them twice in that serious. You know Grand Rapids never had a chance with me when I was right. I shot them out in the first game, and they got one run in the second, on account of Flynn

misjudging that fly ball. Anyway, Doyle liked my work, and he wired Kamisky to buy me. Kamisky come back with an offer, and they accepted it. I don't know how much they got. But anyway, I am sold to the big league, and believe me, Al, I will make good.

Well Al, I will be home in a few days, and we will have some of the good old times. Regards to all the boys, and tell them I am still their pal and not all swelled up over this big league business. Your pal, Jack. Chicago, Illinois, September 14th.

Old pal. Well, Al, I have not got much to tell you. As you know, Kamisky wrote me that if I was up in Chi this month to drop in and see him. So I got here Thursday morning, and went to his office in the afternoon. His office is out to the ballpark, and believe me, it's some park and some office.

I went in and asked for Kamisky, and a young fellow, he says, he is not here now, but can I do anything for you. I told him who I am, and says I had an engagement to see Kamisky. He says the boss is out of town hunting, and did I have to see him personally. I says I wanted to see about signing a contract.

He told me I could sign as well with him as Kamisky, and he took me into another office. He says what salary did you think you ought to get? And I says I wouldn't think of playing ball in the big league for less than $3,000 per annum. He laughed and says you don't want much, you better stick round town till the boss comes back. So here I am, and it is costing me a dollar a day to stay at the hotel on Cottage Grove

Avenue, and that don't include my meals. I generally eat at some of the cafes round the hotel, but I had supper downtown last night, and it cost me 55 cents. If Kamisky don't come back soon I won't have no more money left. Speaking of money, I won't sign no contract unless I get the salary you and I talked of,

$3,000. You know what I was getting in Terre Haute, $150 a month, and I know it's going to cost me a lot more to live here. I made inquiries round here and find I can get room and board for $8 a week, but I will be out of town half the time and will have to pay for my room when I am away, or look

up a new one when I come back. Then I will have to buy clothes to wear on the road in places like New York. When Kamisky comes back I will name him $3,000 as my lowest figure and I guess he will come through when he sees I am in earnest. I heard that Walsh was getting twice as much as that.

The papers say Kamisky will be back here sometime tomorrow. He has been hunting with the President of the League, so he ought to feel pretty good, but I don't care how he feels. I am going to get a contract for $3,000, and if he don't want to give it to me he can do the other thing.

You know me, Al. Yours truly, Jack. Chicago, Illinois, December 16th. Dear Friend Al. Well, I will be home in a couple of days now, but I wanted to write you and let you know

how I come out with Kamisky. I signed my contract yesterday afternoon. He is a great old fellow, Al, and no wonder everybody likes him. He says, Young man, will you have a drink? But I was too smart and wouldn't take nothing.

He says, You was with Tera Haute? I says, Yes, I was. He says, Doyle tells me you were pretty wild. I says, Oh no, I got good control. He says, Well, do you want to sign?

I says, Yes, if I get my figure. He asks, What is my figure? And I says, $3,000 per annum. He says, Don't you want the office furniture too? Then he says, I thought you was a young ball player, I didn't know you wanted to buy my

park. We kidded each other back and forth like that a while. And then he says, You better go out and get the air and come back when you feel better. I says, I feel okay now and I want to sign a contract because I have got to get back to Bedford.

Then he calls the secretary and tells him to make out my contract. He gives it to me and it calls for $250 a month. He says, You know we always have a city serious here in the fall where a fellow picks up a good bunch of money. I hadn't thought of that, so I signed up.

My yearly salary will be $1500, besides what the city serious brings me. And that is only for the first year. I will demand $3000 or $4000 next year. I would have started home on the evening train, but I ordered a suit of clothes from a tailor over on Cottage Grove and it won't be done till tomorrow.

It's going to cost me $20, but it ought to last a long time. Regards to Frank and the bunch. Your pal, Jack. Paso Robles, California, March 2nd. Old pal Al.

Well, Al, we've been in this little berg now a couple of days, and it's bright and warm all the time, just like June. Seems funny to have it so warm this early in March. But I guess this California climate is all they said about it and then some. It would take me a week to tell you about our trip out here.

We came on a special train, Deluxe, and it was some train. Every place we stopped there was crowds down to the station to see us go through, and all the people looked me over like I was an actor or something. I guess my height and shoulders attracted their attention. Well Al, we finally got to Oakland, which is across part of the ocean from Frisco.

We will be back there later on for practice games. We stayed in Oakland a few hours and then took a train for here. It was another night in a sleeper, and believe me, I was tired of sleepers before we got here. I have rode one night at a time, but this was four straight nights.

You know, Al, I am not built right for a sleeping-car berth. The hotel here is a great big place and got good eats. We got in at breakfast time, and I made a bee line for the dining room. who is a kind of assistant manager to Callahan, come in and sat down with me. He says, leave something for the rest of the boys, because they will be just as hungry

as you. He says, ain't you afraid you will cut your throat with that knife? He says, there ain't no extra charge for using the forks. He says, you oughtn't to eat so much because you're overweight now. I says, you may think I am fat, but it's all solid bone and muscle.

He says, yes, I suppose it's all solid bone from the neck up. I guess he thought I would get sore, but I will let them kid me now, because they will take off their hats to me when they see me work. Manager Callahan called us all to his room after breakfast and give us a lecture. He says there would be no work for us the first day, but that we must all take a long

walk over the hills. He also says we must not take the training trip as a joke. Then the colored trainer give us our suits, and I went to my room and tried mine on. I ain't a bad-looking guy in a white socks uniform, Al. I will have my picture taken and send you boys some.

My roommate is Alan, a left-hander from the Coast League. He don't look nothing like a pitcher, but you can't never tell about them damn left-handers. Well, I didn't go on the long walk, because I was tired out. Walsh stayed at the hotel, too, and when he seen me, he says, why didn't you go with the bunch?

I says I was too tired. He says, well, when Callahan comes back, you better keep out of sight, or tell him you are sick. I says I don't care nothing for Callahan. He says, no, but Callahan is crazy about you.

He says, you better obey orders, and you will get along better. I guess Walsh thinks I am some rube. When the bunch come back, Callahan never said a word to me. But Gleeson come up, and says, where was you? I told him I was too tired to go walking.

He says, well, I will borrow a wheelbarrow some place and push you round. He says, do you sit down when you pitch? I let him kid me, because he has not saw my stuff yet. Next morning half the bunch, mostly veterans, went to the ballpark, which isn't no better than the one we got at home.

Most of them was veterans, as I say, but I was in the bunch. That makes things look pretty good for me, don't it, Al? We tossed the ball round, and hit fungos and run round, and then Callahan asks Scott and Russell and I to warm up easy and pitch a few to the batters. It was warm, and I felt pretty good, so I warmed up pretty good.

Scott pitched to them first, and kept laying them right over, with nothing on them. I don't believe a man gets any batting practice that way. So I went in, and after I lobbed a few over, I cut loose my fast one. Lord was to bat, and he ducked out of the way, and then throwed his bat to the bench. Callahan says, What's the matter, Harry?

Lord says, I forgot to pay up my life insurance. He says, I ain't ready for Walter Johnson's July stuff. Well, Al, I will make them think I am Walter Johnson before I get through with them. But Callahan come out to me and says, What are you trying to do, kill somebody? He says, Save your smoke, because you're going to need it later on.

He says, Go easy with the boys at first, or I won't have no batters. But he was laughing, and I guess he was pleased to see the stuff I had. There is a dance in the hotel tonight, and I am up in my room, writing this in my underwear while I get my suit pressed. I got it all must up coming out here.

I don't know what shoes to wear. I asked Gleason, and he says, wear your baseball shoes, and if any of the girls gets fresh with you, spike them. I guess he was kidding me. Write and tell me all the news about home.

Yours truly, Jack. Paso Robles, California, March 7th. Friend Al. I showed them something out there today, Al. We had a game between two teams.

One team was made up of most of the regulars, and the other was made up of recruits. I pitched three innings for the recruits and shut the old birds out. I held them to one hit, and that was a ground ball that the recruit shortstop Johnson ought to have ate up. I struck Collins out, and he is one of the best batters in the bunch.

I used my fastball most of the while, but I showed them a few spitters, and they missed them a foot. I guess I must have got Walsh's goat with my spitter, because him and I walked back to the hotel together, and he talked like he was kind of jealous. He says, you will have to learn to cover up your spitter.

He says, I could stand a mile away and tell when you was gonna throw it. He says, some of these days I will learn you how to cover it up. I guess, Al, I know how to cover it up all right without Walsh learning me. I always sit at the same table in the dining room, along with Gleason and Collins and Bodie and Fournier and Allen, the young left-hander I told you about.

I feel sorry for him, because he never says a word. Tonight at supper, Bodie says, how did I look today? Kid Gleason says, just like you always do in the spring, you looked like a cow. Gleason seems to have the whole bunch scared of him, and they let him say anything he wants to.

I let him kid me too, but I ain't scared of him. Collins then says to me, you got some fastball there, boy. I says, I was not as fast today as I am when I am right. He says, well, then I don't wanna hit against you when you are right. Then Gleason says to Collins, cut that stuff out.

Then he says to me, don't believe what he tells you, boy. If the pitchers in this league weren't no faster than you, I would still be playing ball, and I would be the best hitter in the country. After supper, Gleason went out on the porch with me. He says, boy, you have got a little stuff, but you have got a lot to learn.

He says, you field your position like a washwoman, and you don't hold the runners up. He says, when Chase was on second base today, he got such a lead on you that the little catcher couldn't have shot him out at third with a rifle. I says, they all thought I fielded my position all right in the Central League. He says, well, if you think you do it all right,

you better go back to the Central League where you are appreciated. I says, you can't send me back there, because you could not get waivers. He says, who would claim you? I says, St. Louis and Boston and New York. You know, Al, what Smith told me this winter.

Gleason says, well, if you're not willing to learn, St. Louis and Boston and New York can have you, and the first time you pitch against us, we will steal 50 bases. Then he quit kidding and asked me to go to the field with him early tomorrow morning, and he would learn me some things.

I don't think he can learn me nothing, but I promised I would go with him. There is a little blonde kid in the hotel here who took a shine to me at the dance the other night, but I am going to leave the skirts alone. She is real society and a swell dresser, and she wants my picture. Regards to all the boys, your friend Jack.

P.S. The boys thought they would be smart tonight and put something over on me. A boy brought me a telegram, and I opened it, and it said, you are sold to Jackson in the Cotton States League. For just a minute they had me going, but then I happened to think that Jackson is in Michigan and there's no Cotton States League around there.

Paso Robles, California, March 9th. Dear friend Al. You have no doubt read the good news in the papers before this reaches you. I have been picked up to go to Frisco with the first team. We play practice games up there about two weeks,

while the second club plays in Los Angeles. Poor Alan had to go with the second club. There's two other recruit pitchers with our part of the team, but my name was first on the list, so it looks like I had made good. I knowed they would like my stuff when they seen it.

We leave here tonight. You got the first team's address, so you will know where to send my mail. Callahan goes with us, and Gleason goes with the second club. Him and I have got to be pretty good pals, and I wish he was going with us, even if he don't let me eat like I want to.

He told me this morning to remember all he had learned me and to keep working hard. He didn't learn me nothing I didn't know before, but I let him think so. The little blonde didn't like to see me leave here. She lives in Detroit, and I may see her when I go there. She wants me to write, but I guess I better not give her no encouragement.

Well, Al, I will write you a long letter from Frisco. Yours truly, Jack. Oakland, California, March 19th. Dear old pal, they have gave me plenty of work here, all right. I have pitched four times, but have not went over five innings yet.

I worked against Oakland two times, and against Frisco two times, and only three runs have been scored off me. They should have ought to have had one, but Rhodey misjudged a easy fly ball in Frisco, and Weaver made a wild peg in Oakland that led in a run.

I am not using much but my fastball, but I have got a world of speed, and they can't foul me when I am right. I whiffed eight men in five innings in Frisco yesterday, and could have did better than that if I had have cut loose. Manager Callahan is a funny guy, and I don't understand him sometimes.

I can't figure out if he is kidding or in earnest. We rode back to Oakland on the ferry together after yesterday's game, and he says, don't you never throw a slow ball? I says, I don't need no slow ball with my spitter and my fast one. He says, no, of course you don't need it, but

if I was you I would get one of the boys to learn it to me. He says, and you better watch the way the boys fields their positions and holds up the runners. He says, to see you work, a man might think they had a rule in the Central League forbidden a pitcher from leaving the box or looking toward first base.

I told him the Central didn't have no rule like that. He says, and I noticed you taking your wind up when What's His Name was on second base there today. I says, yes, I got more stuff when I wind up. He says, of course you have, but if you wind up like that with Cobb on base,

he will steal your watch and chain. I says, maybe Cobb can't get on base when I work against him. He says, that's right, and maybe San Francisco Bay is made of grape juice. Then he walks away from me. He give one of the youngsters a awful balling out for

something he done in the game at supper last night. If he ever talks to me like he done to him, I will take a punch at him. You know me, Al. I come over to Frisco last night with some of the boys and we took in the sights. Frisco is some live town, Al.

We went all through Chinatown and the Barber's Coast. Seen lots of swell dames, but they was all painted up. They have beer out here that they call steam beer. I had a few glasses of it and it made me logy. A glass of that Tera Haute beer would go pretty good right now.

We leave here for Los Angeles in a few days and I will write you from there. This is some country, Al, and I would love to play ball round here. Your pal, Jack. P.S. I got a letter from the little blonde and I suppose I got to answer it.

Los Angeles, California, March 26th. Friend Al. Only four more days of sunny California and then we start back east. We got exhibition games in Yuma and El Paso, Texas and Oklahoma City. And then we stop over in St. Joe, Missouri for three days before we go home.

You know, Al, we opened the season in Cleveland and we won't be in Chi no more than just passing through. We don't play there till April 18th. And I guess I will work in that serious all right against Detroit. Then I will be glad to have you and the boys come up and

watch me as you suggested in your last letter. I got another letter from the little blonde. She has went back to Detroit, but she gave me her address and telephone number and believe me, Al, I am going to look her up when we get there. The 29th of April.

She is a stenographer and she was out here with her uncle and aunt. I had a run in with Kelly last night and it looked like I would have to take a wallop at him, but the other boys separated us. He is a bush outfielder from the New England League. We was playing poker.

You know, the boys plays poker a good deal, but this was the first time I got in. I was having pretty good luck and was about four bucks to the good. And I was thinking of quitting because I was tired and sleepy. Then Kelly opened the pot for 50 cents and I stayed.

I had three sevens. No one else stayed. Kelly stood pat and I drawed two cards and I catched my fourth seven. He bet 50 cents, but I felt pretty safe even if he did have a pat hand. So I called him.

I took the money and told them I was through. Lord and some of the boys laughed, but Kelly got nasty and begun to pan me for quitting and for the way I played. I says, well, I won the pot, didn't I? He says yes, and he called me something.

I says, I got a notion to take a punch at you. He says, you have, have you? And I come back at him. I says, yes, I have, have I? I would have busted his jaw if they hadn't stopped me.

You know me, Al. I worked here two times, once against Los Angeles and once against Venice. I went the full nine innings both times and Venice beat me four to two. I could have beat them easy with any kind of support. I walked a couple of guys in the fourth and Chase drops a throw and

Collins lets a fly ball get away from him. At that I would have shut them out if I had wanted to cut loose. After the game Callahan says, you didn't look so good in there today. I says, I didn't cut loose. He says, well, you've been working pretty near three weeks now and

you ought to be in shape to cut loose. I says, I am in shape all right. He says, well, don't work no harder than you have to or you might get hurt and then the league would blow up. I don't know if he was kidding me or not, but I guess he thinks pretty well of me

because he works me lots oftener than Walsh or Scott or Benz. I will try to write you from Yuma, Texas, but we don't stay there only a day and I may not have time for a long letter. Yours truly, Jack. Yuma, Arizona, April 1st.

Dear old Al, just a line to let you know we are on our way back east. This place is in Arizona and it sure is sandy. They haven't got no regular ball club here and we play a pick-up team this afternoon. Callahan told me I would have to work.

He says, I am using you because we want to get through early and I know you can beat them quick. That is the first time he has said anything like that and I guess he is wising up that I got the goods. We was talking about the athletics this morning and

Callahan says, none of you fellows pitch right to Baker. I was talking to Lord and Scott afterward and I said to Scott, how do you pitch to Baker? He says, I use my fade away. I says, how do you throw it?

He says, just like you throw a fastball to anybody else. I says, why do you call it a fade away then? He says, because when I throw it to Baker, it fades away over the fence. This place is full of Indians and I wish you could see them, Al. They don't look nothing like the Indians we saw in that show last summer.

Your old pal Jack. Oklahoma City, April 4th. Friend Al. Coming out of Amarillo last night, I and Lord and Weaver was sitting at a table in the dining car with an old lady.

None of us were talking to her, but she looked me over pretty careful and seemed to kinda like my looks. Finally she says, are you boys with some football club? Lord nor Weaver didn't say nothing. So I thought it was up to me and I says, no ma'am,

this is the Chicago White Sox ball club. She says, I knew you were athletes. I says, yes, I guess you could spot us for athletes. She says, yes indeed, and especially you, you certainly look healthy. I says, you ought to see me stripped.

I didn't see nothing funny about that, but I thought Lord and Weaver would die laughing. Lord had to get up and leave the table and he told everybody what I said. All the boys wanted me to play poker on the way here, but I told them I didn't feel good.

I know enough to quit when I am ahead, Al. Callahan and I sat down to breakfast all alone this morning. He says, boy, why don't you get to work? I says, what do you mean, ain't I working? He says, you ain't improving none.

You have got the stuff to make a good pitcher, but you don't go after bunts and you don't cover first base and you don't watch the baserunners. He made me kinda sore talking that way. And I says, I guess I can get along all right. He says, well, I am going to put it up to you.

I am going to start you over in St. Joe, day after tomorrow, and I want you to show me something. I want you to cut loose with all you've got, and I want you to get round the infield a little and show them you aren't tied in that box.

I says, I can field my position if I want to. He says, well, you better want to, or I will have to ship you back to the sticks. Then he got up and left. He didn't scare me none, Al. They won't ship me to no sticks after the way I showed on this trip, and

even if they did, they couldn't get no waivers on me. Some of the boys have begun to call me four sevens, but it don't bother me none. Yours truly, Jack. St. Joe, Missouri, April 7th, friend Al. It rained yesterday, so I worked today instead, and

St. Joe done well to get three hits. They couldn't have scored if we had played all week. I give a couple of passes, but I catch the guy flat footed off of first base, and I come up with a couple of bunts and throw guys out. When the game was over, Callahan says, that's the way I like to see you work.

You looked better today than you looked on the whole trip. Just once you wound up with a man on, but otherwise you was all okay. So I guess my job is cinched, Al, and I won't have to go to New York or St. Louis. I would rather be in Chi anyway, because it is near home. I wouldn't care though if they traded me to Detroit.

I hear from Violet right along, and she says she can't hardly wait till I come to Detroit. She says she is strong for the Tigers, but she will pull for me when I work against them. She is nuts over me, and I guess she has saw lots of guys too.

I sent her a stick pin from Oklahoma City, but I can't spend no more dough on her till after our first payday, the 15th of the month. I had 30 bucks on me when I left home, and I only got about 10 left, including the five spot I won in the poker game. I have to tip the waiters about 30 cents a day, and

I seen about 20 picture shows on the coast, besides getting my clothes pressed a couple of times. We leave here tomorrow night and arrive in Chi the next morning. The second club joins us there, and then that night we go to Cleveland to open up. I asked one of the reporters if he know who was going to pitch the opening game,

and he says it would be Scott or Walsh, but I guess he don't know much about it. These reporters travel all around the country with the team all season and send in telegrams about the game every night. I ain't seen no Chi papers, so I don't know what they've been saying about me. But I should worry, eh, Al?

Some of them are pretty nice fellows, and some of them got the swell head. They hang around with the old fellows and play poker most of the time. We'll write you from Cleveland. You will see in the paper if I pitch the opening game. Your old pal, Jack.

Cleveland, Ohio, April 10th. Old friend Al. Well, Al, we are all set to open the season this afternoon. I have just ate breakfast and am sitting in the lobby of the hotel. I eat at a little lunch counter about a block from here, and I saved 70 cents on breakfast.

You see, Al, they give us a dollar a meal, and if we don't want to spend that much, all right. Our rooms at the hotel are paid for. The Cleveland papers says Walsh or Scott will work for us this afternoon. I asked Callahan if there was any chance of me getting into the first game, and he says, I hope not.

I don't know what he meant, but he may surprise these reporters and let me pitch. I will beat them, Al. LaJoy and Jackson is supposed to be great batters, but the bigger they are, the harder they fall. The second team joined us yesterday in Chi, and we practiced a little.

Poor Alan was left in Chi last night, with four others of the recruit pitchers. Looks pretty good for me, eh, Al? I only seen Gleason for a few minutes on the train last night. He says, well, you ain't took off much weight.

You're hog fat. I says, oh, I ain't fat. I didn't need to take off no weight. He says, one good thing about it, the club don't have to engage no birth for you, because you spend all your time in the dining car.

We kidded along like that for a while, and then the trainer rubbed my arm and I went to bed. Well, Al, I just got time to have my suit pressed before noon. Yours truly, Jack. Cleveland, Ohio, April 11th.

Friend Al. Well, Al, I suppose you know by this time that I did not pitch, and that we got licked. Scott was in there, and he didn't have nothing. When they had us beat 4-1 in the 8th inning, Callahan told me to go out and warm up, and he put a batter in for Scott in our 9th.

But Cleveland didn't have to play their 9th, so I got no chance to work. But it looks like he means to start me in one of the games here. We got three more to play. Maybe I will pitch this afternoon. I got a postcard from Violet.

She says, beat them naps. I will give them a battle, Al, if I get a chance. Glad to hear you boys have fixed it up to come to shy during the Detroit Sirius. I will ask Callahan when he is going to pitch me and let you know. Thanks, Al, for the papers.

Your friend, Jack. St. Louis, Missouri, April 15th. Friend Al. Well, Al, I guess I showed them. I only worked one inning, but I guess them Browns is glad I wasn't in there no longer than that.

They had us beat 7-1 in the 6th, and Callahan pulls Benz out. I honestly felt sorry for him, but he didn't have nothing, not a thing. They was hitting him so hard I thought they would score 100 runs. A right-hander named Bumgardener was pitching for them, and he didn't look to have nothing either, but we ain't got much of a batting team, Al.

I could hit better than some of them regulars. Anyway, Callahan called Benz to the bench and sent for me. I was down in the corner warming up with Coon. I wasn't warmed up good, but you know I got the nerve, Al, and I run right out there like I meant business.

There was a man on second and nobody out when I come in. I didn't know who was up there, but I found out afterward it was Shotten. He's the center fielder. I was cold and I walked him. Then I got warmed up good, and I made Johnston look like a boob.

I give him three fastballs, and he let two of them go by and missed the other one. I would have handed him a spitter, but Shock kept signing for fast ones, and he knows more about them batters than me. Anyway, I whiffed Johnston. Then up come Williams, and I tried to make him hit at a couple of bad ones.

I was in the hole with two balls and nothing, and come right across the heart with my fast one. I wish you could have saw the hop on it. Williams hit it straight up, and Lord was camped under it. Then up come Pratt, the best hitter on their club.

You know what I done to him, don't you, Al? I give him one spitter, and another he didn't strike at. That was a ball. Then I come back with two fast ones, and Mr. Pratt was a dead baby. And you notice they didn't steal no bases, neither.

In our half of the seventh inning, Weaver and Shock got on, and I was going up there with a stick, when Callahan calls me back and sends Easterly up. I don't know what kind of managing you call that. I hit good on the training trip, and he must have knew they had no chance to score off me in the innings they had left while they were liable to murder his other pitchers.

I come back to the bench pretty hot, and I says, You're making a mistake. He says, If Kamisky had of wanted you to manage this team, he would have hired you. Then Easterly pops out, and I says, Now I guess you're sorry you didn't let me hit. That sent him right up in the air, and he balled me awful. Honest, Al, I would have cracked him right in the jaw,

if we hadn't been right out where everybody could have saw us. Well, he sent Chakot in to finish, and they didn't score no more, and we didn't neither. I rode down in the car with Gleeson. He says, Boy, you shouldn't ought to talk like that to Cal. Someday he will lose his temper and bust you one. I says, He won't never bust me. I says, He didn't have no right to talk to me like that.

Gleeson says, I suppose you think he's going to laugh and smile when we lost four out of the first five games? He says, Wait till tonight, and then go up to him and let him know you are sorry you sassed him. I says, I didn't sass him, and I ain't sorry. So after supper I seen Callahan sitting in the lobby, and I went over and sit down by him. I says, When are you going to let me work? He says, I wouldn't never let you work, only my pitchers are all shot to pieces.

Then I told him about you boys coming up from Redford to watch me during the Detroit series, and he says, Well, I will start you in the second game against Detroit. He says, But I wouldn't if I had any pitchers. He says, A girl could get out there and pitch better than some of them have been doing. So you see, Al, I am going to pitch on the 19th. I hope you guys can be up there, and I will show you something. I know I can beat them Tigers, and I will have to do it even if they

are Violets team. I notice that New York and Boston got trimmed today, so I suppose they wish Comiskey would ask for waivers on me. No chance, Al. Your old pal Jack. P.S. We play 11 games in shy, and then go to Detroit. So I will see the little girl on the 29th. Oh, you Violet. Chicago, Illinois, April 19th. Dear old pal. Well, Al, it's just as well you couldn't come. They beat me, and I am writing

you this so as you will know the truth about the game and not get a bum steer from what you read in the papers. I had a sore arm when I was warming up, and Callahan should never ought to have sent me in there. And Schoch kept signing for my fastball, and I kept giving it to him because I thought he ought to know something about the batters. Weaver and Lord and all of them kept kicking them around the infield, and Collins and Bodie couldn't catch nothing. Callahan

ought never to have left me in there when he seen how sore my arm was. Why, I couldn't have threw hard enough to break a pane of glass my arm was so sore. They sure did run wild on the bases. Cobb stole four, and Bush and Crawford and Veach about two apiece. Schoch didn't even make a peg half the time. I guess he was trying to throw me down. The score was 16 to 2 when Callahan finally took me out in the eighth, and I don't know how many more they got. I kept telling him

to take me out when I seen how bad I was, but he wouldn't do it. They started bunting in the fifth, and Lord and Chase just stood there and didn't give me no help at all. I was all okay till I had the first two men out in the first inning. Then Crawford come up. I wanted to give him a spitter, but Schoch signs me for the fast one, and I give it to him. The ball didn't hop much, and Crawford happened to catch it just right. At that Collins ought to have catched that ball.

Crawford made three bases, and up come Cobb. It was the first time I ever seen him. He hollered at me right off the reel. He says, You better walk me, you busher. I says, I will walk you back to the bench. Schoch signs for a spitter, and I gives it to him, and Cobb misses it. Then, instead of signing for another one, Schoch asks for a fast one, and I shook my head no, but he signed for it again, and yells, Put something on it. So I throw the fast one,

and Cobb hits it right over second base. I don't know what Weaver was doing, but he never made a move for the ball. Crawford scored, and Cobb was on first base. First thing I knowed, he had stole second while I held the ball. Callahan yells, Wake up out there. And I says, Why don't your catcher tell me when they are going to steal? Schoch says, Get in there and pitch and shut your mouth. Then I got mad, and I walked Veach and Moriarty. But before I walked Moriarty, Cobb and

Veach pulled a double steal on Schoch. Gaynor lifts a fly, and Lord drops it, and two more come in. Then Stanage walks, and I whiffs their pitcher. I come into the bench, and Callahan says, Are your friends from Bedford up here? I was pretty sore, and I says, Why don't you get a catcher? He says, We don't need no catcher when you're pitching, because you can't get nothing past their bats. Then he says, You better leave your uniform in here when you go out next inning,

or Cobb will steal it off your back. I says, My arm is sore. He says, Use your other one, and you'll do just as good. Gleeson says, Who do you want to warm up? Callahan says, Nobody. He says, Cobb is going to lead the league in batting and base stealing anyway, so we might as well give him a good start. I was mad enough to punch his jaw, but the boys winked at me not to do nothing. Well, I got some support in the next inning, and nobody got on. Between innings, I says,

Well, I guess I look better now, don't I? Callahan says, Yes, but you wouldn't look so good if Collins hadn't jumped up on the fence and catch that one off Crawford. That's all the encouragement I got, Al. Cobb come up again to start the third, and when Shawk signs me for a fast one, I shakes my head. Then Shawk says, All right, pitch anything you want to. I pitched a spitter, and Cobb bunts it right at me. I would have threw him out a block, but I stubbed my toe

on a rough place and fell down. This is the roughest ground I ever seen, Al. Veach bunts, and for a wonder, Lord throws him out. Cobb goes to second. And honest Al, I forgot all about him being there, and first thing I knowed he had stole third. Then Moriarty hits a fly ball to Bodie, and Cobb scores, although Bodie ought to have threw him out at twenty feet. They batted all round in the fourth inning, and scored four or five more.

Crawford got the luckiest three-base hit I ever see. He popped one way up in the air, and the wind bloated against the fence. The wind is something fierce here, Al. At that Collins ought to have got under it. I was looking at the bench all the time, expecting Callahan to call me in. But he kept hollering, Go on and pitch. Your friends wants to see you pitch.

Well, Al, I don't know how they got the rest of their runs, but they had more luck than any team I ever seen. And all the time Jennings was on the coaching line, yelling like an Indian. Someday, Al, I'm going to punch his jaw. After Veach had hit one in the eight, Callahan calls me to the bench and says, You're through for the day. I says, It's about time you found out my arm was sore.

He says, I ain't worrying about your arm, but I'm afraid some of our outfielders will run their legs off, and some of them poor infielders will get killed. He says, The reporters just sent me a message saying they had run out of paper. Then he says, I wish some of the other clubs had pitchers like you, so we could hit once in a while. He says, Go in the clubhouse and get your arm rubbed off. That's the only way I can get Jennings sore, he says. Well, Al, that's about

all there was to it. It will take two or three stamps to send this, but I wanted you to know the truth about it. The way my arm was, I never ought to have went in there. Yours truly, Jack. Chicago, Illinois, April 28th. Friend Al. Just a line to let you know I am still on earth. My arm feels pretty good again, and I guess maybe I will work at Detroit. Violet writes that she can't hardly wait to see me. Looks like I got a regular girl now, Al. We go up there the 29th,

and maybe I won't be glad to see her. I hope she will be out to the game the day I pitch. I will pitch the way I want to next time, and them Tigers won't have such a picnic. I suppose you've seen what the Chicago reporters said about that game. I will punch a couple of their jaws when I see them. Your pal, Jack. Chicago, Illinois, April 29th. Dear old Al. Well, Al, it's all over. The club went to Detroit last night,

and I didn't go along. Callahan told me to report to Kamisky this morning, and I went up to the office at 10 o'clock. He gave me my pay to date and broke the news. I am sold to Frisco. I asked him how they got waivers on me, and he says, oh, there was no trouble about that because they all heard how you tamed the Tigers. Then he patted me on the back and says, go out there and work hard, boy, and maybe you'll get

another chance some day. I was kind of choked up, so I walked out of the office. I ain't had no fair deal, Al, and I ain't going to no Frisco. I will quit the game first, and take that job Charlie offered me at the billiard hall. I expect to be in Bedford in a couple of days. I have got to pack up first and settle with my landlady about my room here, which I engaged for all season thinking I would be treated square. I am going to rest and lay

round home a while and try to forget this rotten game. Tell the boys about it, Al, and tell them I never would have got let out if I hadn't worked with a sore arm. I feel sorry for that little girl up in Detroit, Al. She expected me there today. Your old pal Jack. P.S. I suppose you seen where that lucky left-hander Alan shot out Cleveland with two hits yesterday. The lucky stiff.