PECULIAR a Base Ball Story by a Jvriter Ll Hoknows the Game Richard Connell

14 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C„ APRIL 12, 1931. PITCHERS ARE PECULIAR A Base Ball Story by a JVriter ll hoKnows the Game Richard Connell —v VSILY the leading citizen of our small Brown any. He was a nut about base ball. at m j town in the rural hill is my neighbor Jovn South the training camp, John was and friend, Roscoe Tracey. He is an so flustered at being with big leaguers that ' j jextra-large, freckled man, with out- every time one of them spoke to him he tried size hands and feet, who moves among to pull his head inside his new store suit like his prize-winning squashas v.itli a majestic a turtle. shuffle. He has a name for each of them and The gang gave him the usual kidding they will tell you about them proudly. gave all rookies, but they were pretty decent Not that he is given to boasting—a more to him. too, especially “Long Tim” Lowe. Tim modest and unassuming man does not exist In had been a star thrower In his day, but ths the country—nor does he talk much. He is one soupbone had slowed up and he was clinging ©f those rare people who only speak when they to his job with his fingernails, and was hoping have something to say, and usually what he he could bluff his way through another season says is interesting. by putting 20 years of experience and a prayer In our community he is held in high esteem. on every pitch. We have elected him second selectman for nine It certainly wasn’t going to help Tim any to straight terms, and he is a pillar of our church, have a strong young pitcher in the outfit, but as well as bass soloist in the choir. what does Tim do” He rooms with this John His farm is not a large one, but it makes a Brown and tells him all he knows, which is profit, in spite of the stony soil of this region plenty. and in spite of the fact that he is not often at home during the Spring and Summer months: ACH morning he took Brown out to tbe J '. for by profession he is a baseball player, end park and worked with him. Tim rigged up I the most has been for nearly 20 years one of a kind of gallows with a pole and a crosspiece The (Ad man teas frantic. John just looked glum, and all he'd say was, Tm not on a big league team at a and the rim of a peach basket hanging a valuable players on there, boss; I'm just not there." salary a trifle larger than that paid to the Vice rope about belt-high, and day after day he President of the United States; but that gentle- kept Brown pegging them over and he wouldn’t man can hardly complain as he did not pitch let John quit till he shot nine out of ten square that there was some sort of evil power some- ing John a vacation, promising him a bonus, nine of them. where that just 30 games last y~ar and lose only through the rim. wouldn’t let him have that no- talking quietly to him and even bawling the a Sunday afternoon not'long ago I was John began to get some control and the Old hit same. And now they'd begun to call him On feathers off him. John would just sit and taking a walk, when, passing his house. I spied Man kept him when the team went north: but a veteran, so he could figure he hadn't many his lank, loose figure sprawled in a chair on the a couple of fellows had to be lopped off the more seasons In which to pitch that game. It listen, looking glum, and all he'd say was, porch, knee deep in Sunday papers. He called pitching staff before the season got very far got on his mind so that he couldn’t talk about “I’m not there, boss. I'm just not there, that's out a greeting to me, and I went up his trim along. Tim Lowe worked in the first game. anything else. All around the league the boys all.” gravel path and shook a hand as brown as a It was sad. The boys all liked Tim and did began to kid him and to call him “No-Hit Base ball is a business and club owners don't saddle, as big as a brief-case and as hard as a their best to save him, but the opposing team Brown.” He didn't mind that. He was going like to pay salaries to a fellow who can only horse’s hoof. hit ’em where nobody could get to ’em. So to pitch that game If he had to throw his pitch home runs. They had the Old Man on arm off doing it. carpet the Old Man had to yank Tim out and he % the and he had to agree that John Around mid-season xxre talked squashes I sensed though, that comes to the bench walking like each foot in this thirteenth year he looked all washed up. After two more starts, ” he was troubled in his mind about some- weighed a ton and he says, “Give the kid a got the break he’d been praying for. It was a in which John was terrible, we got the news gray, cloudy day, sat for perhaps 20 minutes, saying chance. He can handle 'em." and his fast one was right. one night that John had been handed his thing. We He whizzed it nothing, while he masticated tobacco. Sudden- So the Old Man puts in John Brown and, across and the opposing batters unconditional release, which was his right, as claimed later that the air around the plate he served in the league. ly slapped newspaper which lay across with Tim whispering to him between was had 10 years he the innings hot from the steam John lap, and how to pitch, Brown makes that other team put on the onion. None of the other clubs wanted him. In base his exclaimed:^ They were mowed down, Without hit, till the ball, when man is through, he's good and “A doggone’, sour-bellied old knocker, and a look like they were using paper a a dolls for bats. ninth, John falsifier, boot, that’s what he is. dagnab him." A couple of weeks later, the Old to and was trembling when he walked through. When the boys heard about it they to Man had that got quartet uncommonly strong language for sell Tim Lowe down the river Sally out to pitch, last Inning. He the first didn’t do any singing that night. And This was to the a League and for a week after that it wasn’t safe man on a called third strike, made the next the Old Man himself went around Uke grizzly ftoscoe. pop out and there was only one man hornets up nose, cussing out everybody, “Who is?” I asked. to go near the Old Man or he’d have torn the between with Its said, him and his perfect game. for he's the kind that doesn’t want people to •This here smart-aleck.” he slapping shirt off your back, which was his way of the paper again. “Listen to this." showing how bad he felt about losing Now It’s a custom in the big leagues, a sort know he isn’t as hard-boiled as he seems to be. Tim. of unwritten law, that when growled himself into fine cf ton- He read from the paper: Btown learned quick and won a lot of games. a pitcher gets that He a case close no-hit game, a hospital " unfortunate who, for his sins, has He lost then, pitchers being to a the last man up doesn’t sllltis and had to be laid up in for As an one now and hu- charge to fife as a sports writer, I have man like everybody else. He had try to spoil his record. The last man up was a repairs, so Hank Garrity was left in been sentenced some bad cocky kid named next team blew into town for a series. peering at ball players for 30 years, and days. And he had terrible clubs behind Rlker, who'd been easy for when th? been some with them, being off on a compels me to state that, with few ex- him, too. But when he was right John all day. The first pitch Rlker missed by Their boss wasn't candor it didn’t a foot. John bussed business trip, so the old heaver, “Lefty”Hooker, ceptions, the hero of the diamond is a pretty make much difference whether his team a another over in the same was place was running them. A good guy. Well; the sorry lellow. Os sportsmanship he knows bunch of champs or a lot of limber-thumbed and Rlker didn’t swing till the ball was on way games boys through nothing. He is rain, jeakius. greedy, childish hoboes. When he wasn’t right, It didn’t make its back from the catcher. first three those went tto go, a through a They'd brought and generally dumb. He is loyal to no one but much dofference either. Most of the time he With one ball to John put one over the like bullet cheese.

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