CHAPTER XX
A TEST OF NERVE
"How are you feeling, Joe?" asked Jim, as the men were dressing in theclubhouse, preparatory to going on the field for the first game of thechampionship race.
"Like a fighting cock," answered Joe. "How are you?"
"A bit shaky," confessed Jim. "My heart keeps coming up in my throat andI have to keep swallowing it all the time."
"You've got nothing to worry about," chaffed Joe. "Neither you nor Iwill have anything to do today but root for the rest of the boys. That'sa moral certainty."
"You can't sometimes most always tell," quoted Jim. "Nothing is certainin baseball."
"No," admitted Joe, as he adjusted his belt. "But it's a cinch thatHughson will pitch today. He always does in the first game. An openingday without Hughson in the box would be like the play of Hamlet withHamlet left out."
"Gee!" interrupted Larry Barrett as he glanced through the door in thedirection of the stands. "Take a squint at that crowd! I'll bet all NewYork is here today."
It was the great day of the season, the day to which the hungry baseballenthusiasts in the metropolis had looked forward all through the winterand early spring. For days the fans had been in an ever increasingfever of excitement. The papers had been full of predictions as tothe chances of the New Yorks for the flag. There had been pictures ofthe team individually and in groups together with their fielding andbatting averages. There had been rosy stories of the way they had been"breaking fences" in the training camp, and there were hints that McRaehad uncovered one or two "phenoms" who would make the rooters sit up andtake notice. The whole population of the city that had a drop of redblood in its veins was on tiptoe with expectation.
The day had dawned clear and bright, and for hours before the time forthe game to start the trains and trolleys had been disgorging theircrowds at the gates. The far famed Polo Grounds had never been in moresuperb condition. The diamond was like so much soft green velvet. Thewhite markings of the base lines were dazzling by way of contrast withthe green. Boxes, grandstands and bleachers were filled to overflowingwith a hilarious, good-natured crowd, that was out for a good time anddetermined to have it. Long before the time for starting the game, itbecame evident that "ground rules" would have to be established, makinga hit into the crowd only good for two bases, no matter how far it went.
The Boston "Braves" were to cross bats with the Giants, and there was akeen curiosity in the crowd to see how "Rawling's cast-offs" would shapeup, although few gave them more than an outside chance to win.
"Line up now, boys, for the grand march," sang out Robson, as he bustledinto the clubhouse.
The team came out and got into line, McRae and Hughson leading. TheBostons joined them and the two teams came down to the plate amid anuproar of boisterous applause. The leaders clasped hands at the plate,the movie men, who were there in droves, set their machines going,and then the members of the two teams broke ranks and scattered forpreliminary practice. This was snappy and lightning fast, and "stunts"were pulled off by both teams that brought the crowds to their feet.
Then the bell rang for the game to begin. The mayor of the city threwout the first ball. Hughson caught it and returned it to the mayor'swife to keep as a souvenir, after first writing his autograph on it ather request. Then he took his place in the box, the first Boston battercame to the plate, the umpire cried "Play ball!" and the championshiprace was on in earnest.
Joe and Jim had warmed up together with the other pitchers and now saton the bench together with the rest of the New York team who were notactually playing in the game.
"Watch that drop. Wasn't it a beauty?" commented Joe enthusiastically,as the first ball eluded the batter's savage swing and fell with a thudinto the catcher's glove.
"It was a lulu, all right," agreed Jim. "If that's a sample of what theold boy has in stock today, they'll break their backs going after them."
The first man proved an easy victim by the "strike out route," thesecond dribbled a slow roller to the box that Hughson got to first inplenty of time, and the third succumbed to a high foul that Mylert, thecatcher, gathered in close to the right of first base. It was a quickinning and Hughson was greeted with cheers as he walked in.
"That's the way, Hughie, old boy!"
"You've got them buffaloed!"
"They're dead ones already!"
"They can't touch you!"
But the Boston pitcher soon showed that he was also in fine fettle,and though the New Yorks got a man to first on a fumble by the thirdbaseman, he got no further and the inning ended as a scoreless tie.
For three more innings the same state of things persisted, although theGiants gathered three hits while only one had been made off Hughson.
"We're getting on to him though," said Barrett, as he came back to thebench, referring to Leonard, the Boston pitcher. "He's got a high, fastone that he winds around your neck, but his curves aren't such a much.About the sixth inning we'll start in to plug him."
But the "Braves" had views of their own on "plugging," and by one of the"breaks" of the game they were the first to score.
It was in the first part of the fifth inning. Willis, their first manup, had got to first through an infield hit that took a high bound justas Barrett had set himself for it and went over his head. The nextplayer lay down a perfect sacrifice bunt which Denton, the Giant thirdbaseman, got in time to put his man out at first though he could notprevent Willis reaching second. Hughson put on steam and struck out thenext batter on three pitched balls, and the crowd breathed more easily.But the glorious uncertainty that makes the game what it is was shownwhen the Boston right fielder sent a beauty to left just inside thethird base line that scored Willis although the batter by quick fieldingwas held at first.
The Boston rooters went wild while the New Yorkers sat glum and silent.Their opponents had scored "first blood" and in as close a game as thatone promised to be that lone run loomed up like a mountain.
"Never mind, old man," said McRae to Hughson, as the latter walked inafter the third man had been caught stealing. "The game's young yet.We'll see that run and go them one better."
But the seventh inning came with the Bostons still in the lead.
"The lucky seventh," was the cry that went through the stands. "Allstretch!" And the fans went through the time-honored exercise while theywhooped it up for their favorites.
"Now Larry!" they yelled as Barrett strode up to the plate, "hit it amile! Show them where you live!"
Larry, who had led the National League in hitting the previous year,tapped both heels for luck, squared himself and glared fiercely at thepitcher.
That individual glared back and sent the ball hurtling over the plate.It chanced to be a low, fast one, the kind that Larry doted on. Hecaught it square on the end of his bat. It went screaming out over thecenter fielder's head. On a clear field it would have been an easy homerun, but in accordance with the ground rules it only counted for a twobagger. Larry perched on second with a broad grin on his face while thestands went crazy.
"We've got him now!" cried McRae. "He's going up in the air."
The next batter put up a high fly to right, which was caught after ahard run, Barrett making third on the out.
The next man up was Red Curry. He looked so formidable as he swung hisbat that the pitcher thought it advisable to pass him to first on fourwide ones.
"He's getting rattled!" yelled McRae. "We've got his goat!"
But the soundness of the pitcher's judgment was vindicated a momentlater when the next batter, Lewis, hit into a force play, so skilfullymanaged that while a man was out at second Larry was held at third. Thecrowd groaned as they saw the vision of a run go glimmering, but roaredwith delight a moment later when Becker scorched a hot one betweensecond and third, bringing in Larry with the tying run. And their joybecame delirium when Byrnes cracked a beauty to right and Lewis got homeby a great slide to the plate.
The Giant players threw their caps in the air and Joe and Jim hu
ggedeach other in their glee.
"We're in the lead now," chortled Joe, "and we can trust old Hughson tohold them down."
The Boston pitcher pulled himself together and made the next batter putup a high foul that was caught by the first baseman, making the thirdout. But nobody cared. The Giants were ahead and there were only twoinnings to go.
In the Boston half of the eighth, the first man went out on a fly tocenter and the second "fanned." The third hit a teasing bounder to theleft of the box. Hughson made a great try, but in doing so he wrenchedhis knee badly. He got his man at first but when he came in to the benchhe was limping and was evidently in great pain. McRae, Robson and thetrainer gathered round him and massaged the knee vigorously.
"Do you think you can stay it out, Hughson?" asked McRae with greatanxiety. "There's only one more inning you know."
"I'll try to," was the answer. "But in the meantime you'd better warm upanother pitcher."
McRae and Robson had a hurried conference.
"I'd put in Markwith," said McRae, "but these Bostons are death onsouthpaws."
"Try Matson," suggested Robson. "I noticed he was going great guns inpractice."
"It's a big risk before this crowd for his first time out," said McRae,dubiously. "But we'll have to chance it."
He hurried over to Joe.
"Get out and warm up, Matson," he said, briefly. "I may have to put youin for the ninth."
Joe's head whirled. To follow the great Hughson! And before thisrecord-breaking crowd!
Then he took a grip on himself.
"All right," he answered, and taking Weldon, one of the Giant reservecatchers, he went off toward the further end of the stand and beganwarming up.
But the inning was very short, as the Boston pitcher was on his mettleand retired the side in one-two-three order. Long before Joe had reallywarmed up, the New Yorks took the field.
Hughson went out gamely to the box, trying to hide his limp as much aspossible. But the Boston players recognized that this was their chance.One run would tie and two would win. It was now or never, and theirheavy batters were coming up.
Hughson, with all his pluck, could not perform miracles. He tried toput all his skill and cunning into his pitching, but his wounded kneerefused to back him up. There were men on first and second, with noneout, when he signaled to McRae.
"It's no use, Mac," he said, as the latter came over to him. "I can'tbear my weight on my foot so as to get any power behind the ball. We'vestill got a chance if you put in Matson."
So Joe, at a signal from the manager, took up the pitcher's burden withtwo men on bases and none out, while the Boston coachers danced up anddown on the coaching lines, yelling like mad men and doing all theycould to rattle him.