THE FIRST LINE-UP
“Well, what do you think of your freshman phenoms?”
It was Johnny Everson who was speaking. Johnny besides being the
regular second baseman of the Varsity was the chum of Hughie Jenkins,
the manager of the team and his chief adviser with Captain Larke.
Johnny knew the game from top to bottom and across the middle. They
called him “a little bunch of brains and nerves,” and he deserved the
compliment.
He was small in size, but large in brains and many a game had been won
for the college by his quick work at trying moments, to say nothing
of the fact that he was largely responsible for the discovery and
development of many of the plays which had come to be known as “inside
baseball.” He had an aggressive chin which seemed to be always pointing
forward, and his eye was as quick and accurate as a sharpshooter’s.
“We seem to have a good many gaps to fill and I guess we will find
mostly yaps to fill them with,” he went on; “anyway that’s the way I
feel to-night after looking over the unpromising material that we put
through the stunts at the cage to-day.”
“I don’t feel discouraged. You can never tell, of course, on one trial,
but watching some of those youngsters this afternoon made me think that
with a little training some of them will make good,” said Hughie.
“Let’s go over the list and mark the fixtures we can count on, and
then we can tell what we have to do to get a real nine together,” said
Everson.
“All right. At second we have _you_,” said Hughie, “and I guess we
won’t need to worry about the Keystone bag, and at third we have
Delvin, who I think, will develop this year into a great star at the
near station. Captain Larke will handle left field all right as usual,
Miner Black will come back stronger than ever this year in the box,
and George Gibbs will, I think, do the catching all right. That’s just
about half a team, isn’t it?”
“Now, at the first sack we need somebody to take Penny’s place, and I
must confess that I did not notice any likely candidate, unless it was
Dill.”
“We are going to have a hard time, I think, to find some one at short
in place of our good friend Joe Brinker.”
“Did you notice the bowlegged and awkward-looking German named Hagner
in the cage to-day?” broke in Everson. “If he wasn’t so big and awkward
looking, he might be able to bat and we could play him in the outer
gardens, but I hardly think he would ever make a shortstop.”
“I hardly think so either,” said Jenkins, “but I had a talk with him
and he said he could play short. I have also had a report from Texas,
where he came from, that he is a perfect terror at bat. I can hardly
hope though that he will be able to fill Brinker’s place. I think if we
could figure out some scheme to remodel his anatomy we might be able to
make something out of him. Still he may be a diamond in the rough. I
don’t think you can tell anything about any of them until you see them
work in the open air for a week or two.”
“What do you think about right field?” asked Johnny.
“If I am not mistaken,” answered Hughie, “we have the real prize
package in that young chap from Georgia, Robb (a regular cracker name,
isn’t it)? Did you notice him at all? Did you ever see more speed? I am
knocking on wood when I talk about him, because I don’t want to fool
myself, but if I was a scout for a professional team, and saw this
fellow Robb playing ball on some back lot, I think I’d buy him without
instructions from headquarters.”
“Lots of them look like stars the first few days of spring,” said
Johnny. “I noticed Robb particularly, too. I was thinking that while he
is a clean-cut looking fellow, I’d hate to get into a fight with him,
because he looks like a chap who has no fear of anything.”
“Besides Robb there were half a dozen others who looked like they might
be made into fielders,” said Hughie. “There was Talkington, McKee,
Raymur, Oakley, Lunley, and Flack. If any of them know how to swing
a bat, I think we will be able to teach them what they need to know
about catching flies.”
“As usual most of the candidates want to pitch and if Miner is all
right this year we won’t need any one to help him, except, perhaps, a
left-hander. Did you notice anything promising along this line? I was
so busy looking over the fielders and possible first basemen that I
didn’t pay much attention to the pitchers. I rather liked the delivery
of Crossley the short time he was throwing. He looked promising for a
rich man’s son.”
“Besides that will be easier when old man Young gets here and we get
them out for coaching. You can also pick them out in batting practice.
Just tell them to throw straight swift balls over the plate and you
can pick out the poor ones anyhow, because a pitcher who can’t put a
straight ball over nine times out of ten, isn’t worth developing. Then
by the time Young gets a chance at them for a week we’ll know which are
no good at all, and what ones it will pay him to coach.”
“I had a talk,” said Johnny, “with that California lad, Case. He is a
quiet chap and unassuming. He says he is a southpaw pitcher too, and he
may be what we are looking for.”
A few days after this talk in Hughie’s room the snow began to melt and
within a week Lowell field, which had for months been covered with
snow and ice, suddenly took on a greenish look, the ground became dry
and firm and everyone began to feel the spring in the air. One day,
not long after, there appeared upon the bulletin board the following
notice:
University Baseball. Outdoor practice. On the field at 1 P. M.
February 25th. Candidates must bring their own suits.
HUGH JENKINS, _Manager_.
There was joy in the hearts of the hundred, for there were about that
number who hoped to be picked for the Varsity. Out of the hundred, at
least ninety were certain to be disappointed as far as the Varsity was
concerned, for there were only about ten places to fill, counting the
substitutes.
Of course, there was a chance that a fellow would get on the second
squad which might help him to the Varsity next year, and then there was
always the freshman team which was formed last and which generally was
an all pitcher team, so to speak, because every man on it had nursed
secret hopes of making the Varsity his first year, as a pitcher.
Harold Case was out early. He had come to the field with Hagner and was
now sitting on the steps of the clubhouse waiting for Hagner, who had
become his good friend. It was a strange friendship that had sprung up
between these two--the tall big-boned and awkward German lad, almost a
man in looks, and this young and exceedingly graceful Western lad, and
both were profiting by it.
While he was sitting there, what was left of last year’s champions
trotted out on the field. Gibbs, second catcher last year, and Larke,
old cronies; Black and Delvin; and last of all, of course, the
inseparables, Everson and Jenkins. The rest of the candidates straggled
out on to the field in twos and threes, to the number of fully a
hundred, and presently Hagner came out with his old bat and glove in
hand and Harold got up and they walked over to the diamond together.
“Better not let yourself out any to-day,” said Hagner, as they
approached the others who had already paired off and were tossing balls
back and forth to each other.
Before Harold had time to answer, however, Jenkins had said the same
thing practically.
“Getting ready for a baseball season isn’t quite like developing a
football team,” said Hughie. “In football you have to get the team
in shape for one or two big games, each of them requiring a terrific
outburst of energy, without thinking about the morrow, but in the case
of a baseball nine you have to develop your bodies to withstand the
strain of a long series of games, mostly in warm weather, and you must
start slowly and get into condition gradually, so do not try to do it
all to-day.
“Another thing, in football we train the team to withstand hard knocks,
a sort of bull-dog development, while a baseball team must have the
nice strength of a greyhound so as to enable it to keep going at top
speed for a long time, and so I want you to go easy.”
So he had them stand in circles, making five or six groups, and pass
around medicine balls, an exercise to strengthen the trunk muscles.
Then they paired off again, and tossed the baseball to each other two
by two--gently--just like boys playing catch.
All at once Hughie called out, “Come on, boys, around the field,” and
starting off in front he trotted all the way round the field along the
fence. By the time they got started on the second round a lot of the
fellows were puffing and blowing hard and found it difficult to keep
up, but Hughie knew how important it was for a ball player to have wind
and he knew this kind of a stunt practiced a couple of times a day
would fix them up in good shape by the time the games started.
Then he called them all up to the plate for batting practice, and asked
if there was any fellow around who could pitch. He knew, of course,
that Miner Black was there, but Miner knew enough not to say anything.
What Hughie wanted was to find out what kind of control these new
fellows who thought they could pitch had with a slow straight ball.
Hughie and Coach Young, who had arrived, stood back of the plate with
Everson and Larke watching.
Out of the dozen youngsters who said they would try he picked out
Hackett and told him to go into the box.
“Now go ahead,” said Hughie. “Don’t use any curves and don’t try to
burn them over; just give us some slow straight balls and try to get
them across the plate.”
What he really was trying to do besides give the men batting practice
was to get a line on the new pitching material, and this was the best
way to get it.
Then he had the batters take turns at the plate, and each fellow was
expected to stay there until he had made a hit, Hughie standing by
showing each, especially the new ones, how to stand up to the ball and
meet it fairly. Hackett, the first pitcher, didn’t seem to be able to
get them anywhere near the plate, and so Hughie told the next one,
Crossley, to go in and give it a trial. He was a little better, but
they had finally to call on Miner to put a few over.
As usual, Miner was long on control. Johnny Everson stepped to the
plate. Miner served one up and bing! The ball went scurrying out to
right field. Each fellow took his turn at bat. Boys like Delvin, Larke
and Gibbs--standing up like veterans and cracking the hits out in fine
shape, giving a little more running practice to some of the youngsters
who had been sent out to the field to chase the balls.
Finally it came Hagner’s turn. He stepped up to the plate and stood
there rather slouchily and loosely, far away from the mark as if he
were afraid of the ball.
“Better step up a little closer,” said Hughie, “he won’t hit you.”
“All right,” said Hagner, “I want to learn all about it.”
Miner served up one to him straight as an arrow. Hagner swung hard
at it and missed. He felt a bit surprised himself. The next one he
fouled off the bat near his hands. Just as Miner sent up the third
ball Hagner stepped back from the plate, swung the bat easily, met
it squarely and crack went the ball in a white streak clean over the
center field fence!
[Illustration: “Hagner swung hard and missed.”]
Miner looked at him surprised and said, “You can’t do that again.”
The next time Hagner came up, Miner decided to use some curves and
make him earn his hit. He sent up what looked like a fast straight
ball about waist high. Hagner swung on it and missed. The ball had a
terrific out curve and, of course, Hagner understood they were only to
be straight. He eyed Miner closely and when he started to pitch Hagner
stooped over to watch the ball like a hawk. On came the ball, starting
wide of the plate and Hagner first decided it was a ball and then as
the inshoot started in toward the plate, quick as a wink Hagner swung
his bat and over the fence she went again.
The fellows went wild. Hughie and Everson standing back of the batting
cage looked at each other. “What do you know about that?” asked Everson.
“I don’t know anything,” said Hughie. “For a big awkward fellow, he
seems to be about the quickest thing I ever saw. Why! he didn’t even
look ready to hit at that ball until it started to shoot in toward the
plate, and I was sure he was going to let it go by. If he can bat like
that regularly, we’ll play him some place if he fumbles every ball that
is batted to him.”
Pretty soon Hughie asked, “Haven’t we got another left-hander here?”
“There ought to be,” said Everson, looking around. “Here, Case, get out
there and show what you can do. This is your chance.”
“Thanks,” said Case in his polite way. “I’ll try if you want me to.”
He walked into the box and picked up the ball where Miner had dropped
it. He had not really tried to pitch since last summer and was a little
nervous. The first ball went a little bit wide. The second one nearly
hit the batter. The line of waiting batters grinned.
“Southpaws are either very good or very bad,” said Captain Larke to
Delvin. After he had thrown a dozen balls or so, however, Case’s arm
got in working order and only an occasional ball went wide of the
plate.
“He seems to be pretty good on the straight ones,” said Jenkins. “If he
can do as well when we let them begin to try the curves, I think we can
put him on as a substitute.”
“What do you think of the bunch in general?” asked Everson.
“Well,” said Hughie, “I think I can see a team out of this crowd all
right, though I am not quite sure of Dill at first base. This fellow
Robb seems to be a fine batter and so does Talkington. Coach Young
says there was one of the young pitchers that looked good, too--young
Radams. If this Hagner knows as much about any position as he seems
to about batting, I think I’ll let him choose his position. Think of
trying to tell him how to stand up to the plate. He’s just a natural
ball player. Don’t believe he knows himself how he hits them. Black
told me, after he came out of the box, that he did his best to fool
Hagner every time after that first time up, and you know how he
succeeded. We’ll know more when we get them out on the diamond in the
various positions.”
By this time the sun was sinking and it was too dark for further
practice. Hagner and Case walked over to the clubhouse together.
“You sure made a hit with the crowd to-day, Hagner,” said Case.
“I made five hits with my bat,” said Hagner, “two of them over the
fence.”
“Guess you will make the team all right,” remarked Case. “I heard
Jenkins say, any fellow who can bat like that can take his pick of
positions and play any one he likes.”
“Good. I’ll play shortstop if they give a choice.”
“Wish I had made as big a hit as you,” said Case.
“You did, because I heard Everson and Jenkins talking it over, too;
and they said you had excellent control, and if you did well with the
curves they could carry you with the team. If I were you, however, I’d
learn to play some position, and make your way as a utility player. You
see, left-handed pitchers are all right, but with a regular pitcher
like this Miner Black here, you wouldn’t often get a chance to pitch
more than an inning or two, anyhow.”
“I don’t know,” said Case, “how good this Miner Black is, but I think I
can beat him to the regular pitching job.”
“All right,” said Hagner, “but if you don’t have any more luck at
ousting him than most of the fellows have had hitting him, you’ll be
out of a regular job on the team for a long time. I’d practice playing
the first bag. Still think you’d make a first baseman.”
“I don’t think so,” said Case, as they entered the dressing room to
change their clothes, “besides either Dill or Ross seems sure to land
the job.”
The second week of out-door practice the regular work of the boys was
increased. At batting practice every fellow was expected to run clear
around the bases after he made his hit. The coaches and managers got a
line on the base-running ability of the boys in this way. Hagner, Robb,
Case and Talkington all showed up well in this direction.
Toward the end of the week the fellows were lined up on the diamond at
their regular positions, the coaches trying out the various candidates
for the fielding jobs. Hughie batted grounders to the infield, to each
of them in turn.
After each play the ball was thrown from base to base in all of the
different combinations necessary to all the imaginary situations, from
short to first it went, from first to third, from third home, and from
there to second, a white streak, the speed of the players increasing
daily as the men got surer of their positions.
Others were batting flies to the outfield and the coaches were moving
about watching the work of each man as he was tried in the different
positions. Each of the fielders was given a variety of work, at bunting
and the fielding of bunts, catching high infield flies, picking up
sizzling grounders, etc. This work enabled Hughie to pick out his first
line-up for the first and second squads.
By the middle of March the two squads were playing practice games among
themselves.
The first squad generally lined up as follows:
1st Base Dill
2nd Base Everson
3rd Base Delvin
Short Hagner
Right Fielder Robb
Center Fielder Talkington
Left Fielder Larke
Catcher Gibbs
Pitcher Black
The second squad was composed of a miscellaneous crew generally lined
up as follows:
1st Base Ross
2nd Base Gane
3rd Base Conley
Short Wallach
Right Fielder Raymur
Center Fielder Oakley
Left Fielder McKee
Catcher McLuin
Pitcher Radams
Harold Case was a sort of substitute pitcher for both squads. He would
relieve Black for a while for the first squad and Radams for the other
squad, so that both teams got plenty of practice in batting a left-hand
pitcher. There was no way for him to find out in advance what Jenkins
thought of him, but he had high hopes of making the team, and he felt
absolutely confident that if he ever got a chance in one of the full
regular games, he would be able to make good. Crossley also was given
a good deal of work during these practice games, as he gave promise
of doing well and it began to look as though the choice for left-hand
pitchers would be between these two.