CHAPTER XVII
"PLAY BALL!"
"Come on, Joe, I'll catch for you," good-naturedly offered Doc Mullin,who had been "warming" the bench, Russell being behind the bat. "That'llgive Rob a chance to rest, and he can take you on just before we goout."
"Thanks," replied the young pitcher, and, flushing with pleasure, inthis his triumph, though it was but a small one, he went out to the"bull-pen," to get some practice.
"Huh! He'll make a fine show of us!" sneered Willard.
"He can't make a much worse show than we've made of ourselves already,"put in Cooney quickly. "I sure am off my feed to-day. I don't know whatmakes it."
"Trained a little too fine, I guess," spoke the manager. "We'll take ita bit easy after this."
"Speed 'em in, Joe. Vary your delivery, and don't forget the signals,"advised Mullin, as the two were warming up. "And don't get nervous.You'll do all right."
"I'm sure I hope so," responded Joe.
He was getting more confidence in himself, but at that, when he stood onthe mound, and had the ball in his hand he could not help a littletwinge of "stage fright," or something akin to it.
The batter stepped back, to allow the usual interchange of balls betweenpitcher and catcher, and then, when Joe nodded that he was ready, movedup to the plate, where he stood, swinging his bat, and waiting for thefirst one.
The catcher, Russell, signalled for a swift, straight one, and, thoughJoe would rather have pitched his fadeaway, he nodded his head to showthat he accepted.
The ball whizzed from Joe's hand, and he felt a wave of apprehension, asecond later, that it was going to be slammed somewhere out over thecentre field fence. But, to his chagrin, he heard the umpire call:
"Ball one!"
The batter grinned cheerfully at Joe.
"That won't happen again!" thought our hero fiercely.
This time the catcher signalled for a teasing curve, and again Joesignified that he would deliver it. He did, and successfully, too. Thebatter made a half motion, as though he were going to strike at it, andthen refrained, but the umpire called, in tones that were musical toJoe's ear:
"Strike--one!"
"He's feedin' 'em to 'em!" joyfully exclaimed Boswell to the manager."Joe's feedin' 'em in, all right."
"Too early to judge," replied the cautious manager. "Wait a bit."
But Joe struck out his man, and a little applause came from his fellowplayers on the bench.
"That's the way to do it, boy!"
"Tease 'em along!"
"We only need two more!"
Thus they called encouragingly to him.
Joe was hit once that half of the inning, and no runs came in. The scorewas still tie.
"Now, boys, we've got to bat!" said the manager when his team came in."We need three or four runs, or this game will make us ashamed to goback to St. Louis."
There was a noticeable improvement as the Cardinals went to bat. TomDugan slammed out one that was good for three bases, and Dots McCann, bya double, brought in the needed run. The St. Louis boys were themselvesagain. The fact that the visiting pitcher was "going to pieces" ratherhelped, too.
The Cardinals were two runs to the good when the inning ended.
"Now we want to hold them there. It's up to you, Joe, and the rest ofyou boys!" exclaimed Mr. Watson as the leaguers again took the field.
Joe had more confidence in himself now, though it oozed away somewhatwhen the first man up struck the ball savagely. But it was only a foul,and, though Russell tried desperately to get it, he could not.
It was a case of three and two again, and Joe's nerves were tingling.
"Hit it now, Red!" the friends of the visiting player besought him."Bang it right on the nose!"
"He hasn't anything on you!"
"Nothing but a slow out!"
"Slam out a home run!"
There was a riot of cries.
Joe calmed himself by an effort, and then sent in his fadeaway. Itcompletely fooled the batter, who struck at it so hard that he swungaround in a circle.
"You're out!" called the umpire. Joe's heart beat with pride.
But I must not dwell too long on that comparatively unimportant game, asI have other, and bigger ones, of which to write. Sufficient to saythat, though there were a few scattering hits made off Joe, the visitorsdid not get another run, though they tried desperately in the last halfof the ninth.
But it was not to be, and St. Louis had the game by a good margin.
"That's fine work, boys!" the manager greeted them. "Matson, you'recoming on. I won't promise to pitch you against the Giants this season,unless all my other pitchers get 'Charlie-horse,'" he went on, "but I'llsay I like your work."
"Thanks!" murmured Joe, his heart warming to the praise.
"Congratulations, old man!" cried Rad, as they went to the dressingrooms together. "You did yourself proud!"
"I'm glad you think so. I wonder what sort of a story it will be when Igo up against a big league team?"
"Oh, you'll go up against 'em all right!" predicted his chum, "andyou'll win, too!"
Preparations for leaving Reedville were made. The training was over;hard work was now ahead for all. Nothing more was seen of Shalleg andWessel, though they might have been at that last game, for all Joe knew.
In order not to tire his players by a long jump home, especially as theywere not to open at once on Robison Field, Manager Watson plannedseveral exhibition games to be played in various cities and towns on theway.
Thus the journey would occupy a couple of weeks.
The players were on edge now, a little rest from the Nipper game havingput them in fine trim.
"They're ready for Giants!" energetically declared Boswell, who tookgreat pride in his training work.
"Hardly that," replied the manager, "but I think we can take care of theCincinnati Reds when we stack up against them on opening day."
The journey North was enjoyed by all, and some good games took place.One or two were a little close for comfort, but the Cardinals managed topull out in time. Joe did some pitching, though he was not worked asoften as he would have liked. But he realized that he was a raw recruit,in the company of many veterans, and he was willing to bide his time.
Joe had learned more about baseball since getting into the big leaguethan he ever imagined possible. He realized, as never before, what areally big business it was, involving, as it did, millions of dollars,and furnishing employment to thousands of players, besides givingenjoyment to millions of spectators.
The home-coming of the Cardinals, from their trip up from the South, wasan event of interest.
St. Louis always did make much of her ball teams, and though theAmerican Brown nine had arrived a day or so before our friends, and hadbeen noisily welcomed, there was a no less enthusiastic reception forthe Cardinals. There was a band, a cheering throng at the station, andany number of reporters, moving picture men and newspaper photographers.
"Say, it's great; isn't it?" cried Joe to Rad.
"It sure is, old man!"
Joe wrote home an enthusiastic account of it all, and also penned a noteto Mabel, expressing the hope that she and her brother would get to St.Louis on the occasion of some big game.
"And I hope I pitch in it," Joe penned.
A day of rest, then a week of practice on their own grounds, brought theopening date nearer for St. Louis. Joe and the other players went out tothe park the morning of the opening day of the season. The grounds werein perfect shape, and the weather man was on his good behavior.
"What kind of ball have the Reds been playing?" asked Joe of Rad, whowas a "fiend" on baseball statistics.
"Snappy," was the answer. "We'll have our work cut out for us!"
"Think we can do 'em?"
"Nobody can tell. I know we're going to try hard."
"If I could only pitch!" murmured Joe.
The grandstand was rapidly filling. The bleachers were alreadyoverflowing. The teams had marched out on the field, p
receded by ablaring band. There had been a presentation of a floral horseshoe toManager Watson.
Then came some fast, snappy practice on both sides. Joe, who had only afaint hope of being called on, warmed up well. He took his turn atbatting and catching, too.
"They look to be a fast lot," observed Joe to Rad, as they watched theReds at work.
"Oh, yes, they're there with the goods."
The game was called, and, as is often done, a city official pitched thefirst ball. This time it was the mayor, who made a wild throw. There waslaughter, and cheers, the band blared out, and then the umpire called:
"Play ball!"