Isi&^ a Packet of Cigarettes, and Broke Into a Sunburst of Hill-Billy and It Was There That Profanity

16 Colliers for August 25, 1934 chase was made, and they probably would have done both only the snow Lefty s Left was up to their whiskers, the purchase having been announced in December. He is supposed to have cost young By Bill Cunningham owner Yawkey a cool $125,000 and to command a salary bank presidents don't get in these times, but that was some thing for Yawkey to discuss with his advisers if any. The Murphys, the Last year it was worth $125,- Kellys, the Cabots, Saltonstalls and 000. This year it's not worth Cohens merely skied their skimmers to much. It won't work. No the cold Back Bay moon and itched a body knows whether it will mighty itch for the good old summer ever work again. And a thou- time. But the great Robert Moses, as I say, sand fans plus a great pitcher was warming up on the rail. Jack Ons- are broken-hearted because w was doing the receiving. Some of a small twist in a tiny mus Okie or substitute might do for the cle in Lefty Grove's left arm hers, but here was the star. He rated least a coach as his back-stopper. Long—he's six feet three inches tall lean—you can see his ribs under the 'M NOT superstitious—well, not .ower, for all his 180 pounds, and very, anyhow—but any time I come ked saddle brown by the Sarasota to see you, don't start playing that n, he eased them out gradually for I Ravel's Bolero unless you want to me fifteen minutes and then he began see a strong man come down with tha cut loose. He pinged a couple into jitters and shake with nervous motions • islow's mitt that rocked the veteran that would make the original St. Vitus . 7» ack on'his heels and then he wound look like that petrified man in Mr. Vv^'.-^ *-J up and let blaze the famous fire ball! Ripley's Odditorium. It blazed all right. The raucous but iron-lunged ampli ned white hot into Onslow's fiers in the Garden were banging the .jt-i,*., •* ed palm, but drama, if not abandoned rhythms of that barbaric ^dy, was on the other end of masterpiece the night The Golden Boy, . .. V *'.-*••> i(. *-, pitch, for the great Grove Ernie Schaaf, was lifted from where he I dropped his glove, had had practically died in my lap and %• ?• ^ >-. • ^ 4 • • > Pitched his pitching arm borne out a side door across the street f' ':'' • -. '.^ ^ ••;• # ^-^ - cross the biceps and was say to the Polyclinic Hospital, where his r ? •}* •'*4>-^*-*- X^-^*i ing words that are found in gallant spirit did pass within forty- the Bible but not in the sense eight hours. '>*-!>->^.-*-4-,f^* he was using them. And from the radio in a saucy sports ^••V-^-jHP^.-i* >1j.- Savagely he kicked his roadster parked screwgee against the way toward the club fence came that selfsame tune that hot house. I passed him on afternoon early last April when Lefty my way outside to buy Grove threw his glove, clutched his arm %.iSi&^ a packet of cigarettes, and broke into a sunburst of hill-billy and it was there that profanity. That selfsame tune. I just I heard again, happened to notice. Was this again the streaming from be eerie harbinger of death? The death, neath the tonneau this time, of the greatest left-hand of a white- pitching career since Rube Waddell wheeled roadster used to call in his outfield and bid his in which sat a infielders sit down. pretty girl who It was down in Orlando in that quart- was waiting for sized park the natives have snatched somebody, the fateful back from the prowling hibiscus. The WIDE WORL trains of that wild dance Boston Red Sox, no longer, on paper at "A born pitcher," baseball bemg pumped through the air by least, pale and pushoverable, thanks players said of Lefty Grove me distant band somewhere. to the winter's transfusion of a quar at the height of his thir Nobody Suspected the Truth ter of a million dollars' worth of new teen-year career in baseball baseball blood, had dropped off for an I didn't think anything about it at exhibition joust with the Brooklyn the time, but I happened to remember Dodgers, lovingly referred to by the it afterward. I didn't think anything scribes as The Daffiness Boys. The Sox about it at the time because nobody but had kissed their own quarters in Sara a secret and official few—Eddie Collins, sota goodby and were moving northward Bucky Harris, Doc Woods and Grove by bus and sleeper jump toward their himself—knew that baseball's bolt-hurl Washington opening twelve days away. ing Jove, for the first time in all his The beflanneled beauties from the thirteen years of baseball, was half town of the bean and the cod were crazy with worry over the flat refusal warming up for the imminent battle. of his famed pitching arm to "feel Bucky Harris was rapping grounders right." to his newly formed infield. Joe Judge We knew Lefty had been a trifle de was looping fungoes through the liberate in his pre-season training, heavens toward the outfield. In an im especially in the matter of pitching. provised bull pen, the husky troupe of He obviously wasn't bearing down when Sox pitchers, on paper the most formi he served up the ball, but that was all dable in either league, was spanking the right. Why should he? His pitching ball into so many catchers' mitts that was a known quantity. He didn't have the resultant explosions sounded like a to sell himself to Manager Harris. You garage full of backfirers. wouldn't find Galli-Curci hitting her highest notes full voice in a try-out The King of the Fire Ball with an orchestra, would you? Then, too, the great Lefty had always On the rail, as you might say, or at been a law unto himself when it came to least nearest the bleachers, was the the matters of conditioning and train prize of the lot, the Red Sox's great ing. He set his own program, worked capture from the bank-ridden Athletics, his own hours, did as little or as much Robert Moses "Lefty" Grove, famed as he felt like. Wise old Connie Mack King of the Fire Ball, the greatest left had set that precedent with him when hander of his time, if not, indeed, of all he yanked him green and gander-eyed time. The oh-so-loyal Hub fans did from Jack Dunn's Baltimore Orioles, everything but burn red fire and dance A. A. Woods massaging Lefty paying $105,600, every penny of it in in the streets when report of his pur- Grove's famous left arm (Continued on page 39) PRODUCED BY UNZ.ORG ELECTRONIC REPRODUCTION PROHIBITED Colliers for August 25, 1934 17 enough dough for both of us to go to L. A. and I wouldn't go without you." Fireman Dunnevan blinked. His faithful brown eyes warmed. He did not at the moment recall that it had been his money, not Seaman Linn's. SainpsQii and Delilah "You are a true friend, Benny," he said, slapping a huge, hairy paw on Sea man Linn's right shoulder. B^ Frederick Haziitt Brennan "That's better," said Seaman Linn, dealing his friend a stiflF punch on an *ttUST RATED BY armor-plated midriflP. "You're a good guy, Tim, only every oncet in a while you don't think." "Yerse. What we gonna do now?" Seaman Linn did not falter. "Our hearts is pure and God loves IMOTHY DUNNEVAN, fireman United States sailors," he repeated. second, and Benjamin Linn, sea "We're going to the landing to see if we man first, U. S. N., both of the de- can spot a friend that'll lend us a stake. Ttroyer Trimble, were out of luck Anyway, we got a break coming soon. and broke. Flat broke in San Diego on It stands to reason. But to get it, we a Saturday afternoon, with liberty got to stay in circulation. Come on!" passes good until eight o'clock Monday Fireman Dunnevan sighed. morning in their pockets. "I wish I had me about three styruns As Fireman Dunnevan and Seaman of beer," he said. Linn walked along Broadway toward The battle formation moved on to the the boat landing, it seemed as if nature boat landing. Seaman Linn kept a and mankind had leagued against them. sharp and hopeful lookout for friends A California sun, more thirst-provok among the dozens of sailors hurrying ing than a shipload of pretzels, glared by. Ponderously, Fireman Dunnevan at them. An amorous sea wind lurked brought up the rear. Now and then he under sidewalk awnings and went danc reached around and scratched his left ing oflP with a sound like "Hoo-ey-y-y." shoulder; a tattooed wreath of sham California sparrows, bragging of their rocks encircling a map of Ireland itched health to a bewildered Mexican peewee him on warm days. in the street, broke off to titter at Fire man Dunnevan and Seaman Linn. HEY saw no friends and were given "Sailor cheap, cheap, cheap," they said. Thail only by a Shore Patrol sailor who Broke—at the very start of a "48" said, "What boat you guys waiting for? liberty. A thousand other brave sailor We got orders not to allow no loitering." hearts beat happily all around Fireman Seaman Linn turned to Fireman Dun Dunnevan and Seaman Linn.

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