St Anthony High School - Tattler Yearbook (St Anthony, ID)

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THE TATTLER Tames changed his pace, and delivered a cross-fire across the plate, waist high. The batsman passed it by and the umpire annouced it a strike. 1 he people in the stands applauded this decision and showed their approbation by waving pennants and Hags. Again the Brenton moundsman delivered another strike across the rubber, and once more a sullen roar rang out from the stands and bleachers. The next delivery went as a ball, and James suavely walked toward the plate, recovered the ball, and slowly returned to the pitcher ' s box. He now studied his antagonist for a little while, then he stepped in the box, raised his hands far above his head, drew them back down and delivered the ball with mighty force across the plate. The umpire called, Batter’s out! James retained his poise over the mound, and the people’s joy once more became tumultuous. For five innings the game continued without a score on either side. Several times the DuMont team filled the bases, but James, collecting his surplus strength, would retire the side in rapid succession each time. Anderson likewise was pitching a ma rvelous game, and holding the Brenton team to only a few hits, which he kept well scattered. It was a pitcher’s duel — a game in which all depended upon the endurance of the pitchers. Meanwhile, in the stands, a murmur was creeping here and there. “Who is this man James? He is not one of the regulars.” This was the question being asked all through the stands and bleachers, but no one could make a definite reply. They simply knew he was not on the regular pitching staff ' . In the seventh inning the excitement reached a climax. Brenton had suc- cessfully advanced men to second and third bases, respectively. A roar greeted James as he took up his position in the batter ' s box. Then the noise subsided ; everything became quiet, only the coachers’ voices could be heard, now and then, instructing the base-runners. The opposing pitcher coolly stood behind the mound, looking first at James, and then at the man on third. He slowly walked to the mound — then, like a flash, he whirled and delivered the ball to — second base. The second baseman received the throw, tagged his man and heaved the ball to home plate to head off the runner scrambling from third. The ball beat the approaching runner and he was out. A perfect play, and executed with dex- terity and precision. This is how it is performed : The runner on second knew he could take a good lead and yet not draw a throw from the pitcher. The man on third also could take a good lead and yet play safe. As pitcher Anderson stepped into the box and was facing his opposing slabster, something happened that is termed as the inside game.” It is something that the fans seldom if ever detect; they see the play, they see the men tagged out, the pitcher’s delivery, but they do not know how or what brought about the conditions that caused the men to be put out. The DuMont catcher, seeing the man on second was taking a long lead, de- cided to chance a play that must be executed in perfect harmony to make it suc- cessful. He reached to the ground and carelessly picked up a few small peb- bles and tossed them to one side. The second baseman, knowing what this move meant, simply removed his cap and replaced it on his head. The catcher then put his mit against his head, and the “wireless communications” were completed. The pebble throwing was a signal to the pitcher that the runner on second was taking a long lead. The second baseman removed his cap to acknowledge receipt of the signal also. The mit to the side of the catcher’s head was a signal to deliver the ball to second base immediately. Thus all the men taking part in this little- stage drama knew what to do. Of course, the moment these signals were flashed, which only took a few seconds, every man knew exactly what was going to take Page Twenty-three

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THE T A T T L E R Weight Above The Eyes T was Thursday evening. In the hotel lobby of the town of Brenton a small group of the town sportsmen were gathered talking about the game the Blue Ridge League was to play on the following day between Brenton and DuMont. This game was to decide the championship of that League, and had been looked forward to with tense joy and keen expectations. As the close of the season had grown nearer and nearer, excitement had risen and interest became intense. While these men were loudly talking and arguing among themselves as to the best team of the two, a tall young man, about the age of twenty-five, entered the lobby. His appearance was that of a clean-cut athlete, with the typical broad shoulders, and long arms ; his whole body was lithe and well poised. He sat down near the small congregated crowd of men, pulled a newspaper from his pocket and commenced poring through its columns. He had not been reading long when the manager of the Brenton baseball team came in, accom- panied by several of his players, and joined the crowd of men. “I will bet you four to one, Nelson, that you lose tomorrow’s game,” said one of the men to the Brenton manager. “I refuse to bet money on a team that I’m managing,” replied Nelson. “I will take a thousand with you, on that four-to-one proposition,” came a voice outside the crowd. Turning around they saw the young man in a grey suit approaching them. “Who is it who wants to make that bet?” he inquired. “I do,” was the reply of the luck-man. The next day was a live one in Brenton. At 2 o’clock the band was playing- on the streets, and a general unrest and commotion was noticeable all around the little city. At 3 o’clock people were swarming by the hundreds to the ball park to witness the championship contest between these two fast aggregations. Soon the grandstands and bleachers were packed to capacity with ardent lovers of the national pastime. At 3 :30 the batteries for the respective teams were announced by the umpire : “For DuMont, Anderson and Webb ; for Brenton, James and Dodge. Play ball !” The game was on ! The Brenton players trotted to their respective positions and James commenced loosening his salary arm. After pitching several balls to his catcher, Dodge, the umpire commended, Play ball ! The first batter to the plate for DuMont was a short man, and as he took his position he crouched low over the plate, drew his bat back to his shoulder and carefully scrutinized his opponent in the box. James received a signal from his catcher, but be shook his head negatively. The signal was changed, and James began a slow wind-up. “Ball one!” announced the ' umpire, as the horse-hide landed into the catcher’s mit, a little high of its mark. The little batter for the DuMont team displayed his craft very cleverly. He again assumed his crouching position, only this time he crouched still lower. His plan being to draw free trans- portation to first base. Page Twenty-two

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THE TATTLER place. Instantly the ball was to second base, and on its flight back to the plate, where it stopped a score. A “double” play. This play caused loud applause in the DuMont bleachers, while in the Brenton stands a murmur of disappointment was audible. James again took his position at the plate. After a short interval, Anderson delivered a “fast one,” shoulder high and in close. James stepped back from the plate and swung terrifically at the flying pellet. Once more the quietude of the { atmosphere was broken. James landed the hall deep in left field, and was scram- bling around the bases. He was rounding third base when the ball began its homeward flight, and he scored just ahead of it, amid a tumult of cheering. This was the first score of the game, and it was now the last of the seventh. After this home-run drive Anderson pulled himself together and retired the side by striking out the next batter for Brenton. The teams changed places, and the look which Anderson gave James was a revengeful one. The eighth inning passed without either pitcher getting in serious danger. James struck out one man and the other two grounded out to short-stop. Ander- son retired the Brenton team by striking out three batsmen in succession. And now the ninth inning started with the score 1 to 0 in favor of the Brenton club. The people in the stands came to their feet, those in the bleachers were kept back by force. The DuMont rooters started a deafening din, as the last act of this paramount game started with the heavy end of the DuMont batting list coming to bat. The first man to the plate for DuMont drove a long fly into deep center. The fielder fumbled the ball, and the runner advanced to second. A shout of rage came from the Brenton stands. Even Manager Nelson, over on the players’ bench, came to his feet, dumbfounded. James received the hall, stepped in the box with a determined scuff of his right foot. He looked at the batter, then at the runner 4 on second. Once more he dug his spike into the pitcher’s mound, and delivered a “spit-ball” to the batter, who missed the lightening drop by several inches. Two more deliveries and the batter was out. The next man up hunted to third base and advanced the runner on second to third by his sacrifice. The follow- ing man also hunted, but James headed it off, whirled and feinted at third, and then threw to first, and made a put-out. When he feinted to third the runner on that base expected a sure throw, and consequently he played safe, and raced back to his base. Thus, when James did throw to first, there was no danger of the man on third scoring. There were now two out and a runner poised on third, ready to race home on anything like a hit. James took his position and waited for the signal. This time he did not wind up, but hurried his delivery to the plate. It went as a strike. His next delivery did not go as it was aimed — a wild pitch and a score for DuMont. Again the rooters gave vent to their feelings, while James slowly assumed his position in the box. With a g raceful wind-up, a swing of his mighty right, a shooting white speck, a feeble swing of the batsman, and a roar of the catcher’s mit, announced the second strike. The same features were duplicated and the beginning of the last half of the ninth inning was at hand. The first two men to the bat for Brenton hit safely, the first man going to third base and the second man advancing to second. The third struck out. The fourth man to make his stand was James. He walked up to the plate, cinched up his trousers, lowered his cap over his eyes, rubbed his hands in the dust, and stood facing the pitcher. Page Twenty-four