CHAPTER XIII

A BREAK IN THE LUCK

It was a highly elated crowd of Giants that chattered away excitedly in

the clubhouse after the finish of the game. Jim and Joe came in for the

major share of the honors, the first because of his superb pitching and

the latter for the glorious home run that had clinched the victory.

"Some pitching, Barclay," said Hughson, clapping Jim on the shoulder.

"Do you realize that only thirty-two batters faced you and that eleven

of them went out on strikes? That's what I call twirling."

"It'll take some of the chestiness out of these Pirates," laughed

Larry. "They thought we were going to be as easy meat for them as the

rest of the teams. And, begorra, it looked as though we would from the

way the game started."

"You did your share all right, Larry," replied Jim. "That home run of

yours was a beauty. And that two-bagger was no slouch."

"But that clout of Joe's was the real cheese," said Denton generously.

"Gee, Joe, I was a little sore when McRae put you in to take my turn

at bat. But when I saw that old apple clear the fence I knew that the

old man had the right dope. I haven't made a hit like that since I've

been in the game."

"Who has?" queried Curry. "I'll bet it comes pretty close to being a

record. If that house hadn't been in the way the ball would be going

yet."

"Don't forget, Joe, that you'll have to pay for that broken window,"

laughed Wheeler.

"I guess McRae would pay for a hundred broken windows and never say a

word," chuckled Iredell.

He would have been still more sure of this had he been able to see

McRae's face at that moment and overheard what he was saying to Robson.

"You've had a real bit of luck to-day, John," the latter had remarked,

his broad face radiant with satisfaction. "You've discovered that you

have another first string pitcher. That work of young Barclay was

simply marvelous."

"You said it, Robbie," agreed McRae. "It was a rough deal to give a

young pitcher the job of beating the Pittsburghs after they had a four

run lead. But he stood the gaff and came through all right. From this

time on he'll take his regular turn in the box. But it isn't that that

pleases me most in this day's work."

"What is it then?" asked Robbie.

"It's the batting of Matson," replied McRae thoughtfully. "I've been in

the game thirty years, and I've seen all the fence-breakers--Wagner,

Delehanty, Brouthers, Lajoie, and all the rest of them. And I tell you

now, Robbie, that he's the king of all of them. The way he stands at

the plate, the way he holds his bat, the way he times his blow, the

way he meets the ball--those are the things that mark out the natural

batter. It's got to be born in a man. You can't teach it to him. All

the weight of those great shoulders go into his stroke, and he makes a

homer where another man would make a single or a double. Now mark what

I'm telling you, Robbie, but keep it under your hat, for I don't want

the kid to be getting a swelled head. In Baseball Joe Matson we've got

not only the greatest pitcher in the game, but the hardest hitter in

either league. And that goes."

"Oh, come now, John," protested Robbie, "aren't you going a little too

strong? The greatest pitcher, yes. I admit that. There's no one in

sight now that can touch him, now that Hughson's laid up. And between

you and me, John, I don't believe that even Hughson in his best days

had anything on Matson. But when you speak of batting, how about Kid

Rose of the Yankees?"

"He's all to the good," admitted McRae. "He's got a wonderful record;

the best record in fact of any man that has ever broken into the

game. He topped the record for home runs last season, and by the way

he's starting in this year he'll do it again. Up to now we haven't

had anyone in the National League that could approach him. But I'm

willing to bet right now that he never made so long a hit as Matson

made this afternoon. Of course Rose has had more experience in batting

than Matson, and for the last two or three years he's hardly done any

pitching. But if I should take Matson out of the box right now and play

him in the outfield every day, I'll bet that by the end of the season

he'd be running neck and neck with Kid Rose and perhaps a wee bit ahead

of him."

"Well, maybe, John," agreed Robbie, though a little doubtfully. "But

what's the use of talking about it? You know that we can't spare him

from the box. He's our pitching ace."

"I know that well enough," replied McRae. "But all the same I'm going

to see that he has many a chance to win games for us by his batting as

well as by his pitching. On the days he isn't pitching, I'll use him as

a pinch hitter, as I did to-day. Then, too, when he is pitching, I'm

going to make a change in the batting order. Instead of having him down

at the end I'm going to put him fourth--in the cleanup position. If

that old wallop of his doesn't bring in many a run I'll miss my guess."

The very next day McRae had a chance to justify his theories. Hughson

had told the manager that he thought he was in shape to pitch, and

McRae, who had great faith in his judgment, told him to go in. The "Old

Master," as he was affectionately called, used his head rather than his

arm and by mixing up his slow ball with his fast one and resorting on

occasion to his famous fadeaway, got by in a close game. In the sixth,

Joe was called on as a pinch hitter, and came across with another

homer, which, although not as long as that of the previous day, enabled

him to reach the plate without sliding and bring in two runs ahead of

him.

Two homers in two consecutive days were not common enough to pass

without notice, and the Pittsburgh sporting writers began to feature

Joe in their headlines. There was a marked increase in the attendance

on the third day when Joe was slated to pitch. On that day he "made

monkeys" of the Pittsburgh batters, and on the two turns at bat when

he was permitted to hit made a single and a three-bagger. In two other

appearances at bat, the Pittsburgh pitcher deliberately passed him, at

which even the Pittsburgh crowd expressed their displeasure by jeers.

On the final day, Markwith was given a chance to redeem himself, and

pitched an airtight game. But Hooper of the Pittsburghs was also at his

best, and with the game tied in the ninth Joe again cracked out a homer

to the right field bleachers, his third home run in four days!

Markwith prevented further scoring by the enemy, and the game went into

the Giants' winning column.

"Four straight from the league leaders," McRae chuckled happily. "The

break in the luck has come at last."

Baseball Joe, Home Run King; or, The Greatest Pitcher and Batter on Record · 第 13 / 30 章