He come up to me and says: “Is this the head coach?”
I says: “Yes, whatever that is, I’m it.”
“What time does the game start?” he says.
“Three thirty,” I says, “but we get out there about a quarter after two.”
Then he ast me couldn’t they start it some other time because he had a engagement. I says I would excuse him, and he says: “Thanks.” Then I says: “I’ll excuse you all the time if you say the word.” But he says no, that wouldn’t be right, because he felt like as if he should ought to do some work oncet in a while to earn his pay. Then he says he was pleased to of met me and walked away.
I guess he must of kept his date at a soda fountain or wherever it was he had a date at, because he didn’t show up out to the park and I never seen no more of him till the next mornin’. Then he come to see me while I was writin’ a letter and ast me could he have six passes to the game. I says: “You’d better take ten,” and I writes out a pass for ten on one o’ the hotel letterheads, and I signs Otto Hess’ name to it. He says “Thanks,” and walked away. If I’d of signed President Bryan’s name, he’d of thanked me just the same. And the pass would of been just as good.
I come out o’ the hotel about one o’clock and starts for the elevated, but the colleger was standin’ on the sidewalk and he hollered at me. He ast me was I goin’ out and I says yes, I thought I would, because I didn’t have no other date. Then he ast me would I ride out with him because he’d ordered a taxi. They wasn’t none o’ my ball players had ever tooken me to the park in a taxi before, but I didn’t have no objection, so I and him piled in, and out we goes together.
When we got through ridin’, I says. “You better let me split with you,” but he says, “They ain’t no splittin’ to be did. It’s in my contract that I use cabs to and from the grounds,” and he tells the driver to charge it to the club. Well, I butts in and says, “Here! You can’t get by with that stuff. If you’re out to give the club a trimmin’, you better pull it when I ain’t round.” Then what does he do but pull his contract out of his pocket and show it to me, and there it was, in black and white, that he was to be gave rides on the club to and from the parks where we played. Can you beat that?
We come into the grounds and I took him in the clubhouse and had Doc give him a unie. He made a holler because they wasn’t no feet in the stockin’s and I told him he was supposed to wear socks besides the stockin’s. So he leaves on the reg’lar socks he’d wore with his street clo’es and they was purple!
I wisht you could of heard the ball players ride him. They pulled some awful raw stuff, and if he hadn’t of been such a boob, he’d of lost his temper and tried to lick somebody. But I don’t b’lieve he never wised up that he was gettin’ kidded. Even when Hub called him “Gertie,” it didn’t seem to make no difference to him.
We goes out to warm up and I notice that he don’t have no cap on. I was goin’ to tell him about it, but the boys says: “No. Let him play bareheaded and give the crowd a treat.” They wasn’t much practicin’ done. The New York bunch come over round our bench so’s they wouldn’t miss nothin’. I give him a ball and a catcher’s glove and told Tyler to throw him a few. George just lobbed one at him and he got it on the meat hand. He raised a holler and tells Tyler he shouldn’t ought to throw so hard. I yells at him to use his mitt, but he says the ball stung his hand right through it, and after tryin’ all the wrong ways they is o’ catchin’ a ball, he quit and set down on the bench. McGraw calls me over and ast was I startin’ a chorus or what. I told him how I happened to get ahold o’ the bird, and then I ast him did he want to make a trade. He says:
“What’ll you take for him?”
I says: “Oh, I’ll give him to you for Matty and a piece o’ money.”
“No,” he says, “I don’t want to cheat you. Take the grandstand and a chew o’ tobacco.”
Well, I sends him up to take his turn in battin’ practice, and he acted like as if the bat was as heavy as one o’ these here steel rails. Hess slops a slow one up to him, and instead o’ swingin’, he ducks out o’ the way and tells me he ain’t used to battin’ at such swift balls. Hess hears him pull that and the next one he throwed was a fast one, just as fast as he could throw it. Mr. Baker turns white as a sheet and drops his bat and walks to the bench.
I stuck him in the outfield in fieldin’ practice, but he looked so rotten that I took him out o’ there for fear o’ gettin’ him killed. I called him in and says:
“You’ve did enough for one day, so go in and
