THE NEW CAPTAIN
Although Iredell had himself offered his resignation, he had only done
it to take the wind out of McRae’s sails and put himself in a better
strategic position. If worst came to worst, he could save his pride by
saying that he had resigned of his own accord instead of being “fired.”
But he had hoped, nevertheless, that the resignation would be refused
and that McRae, after perhaps giving him a lecture, would accord him
another chance. The prompt acceptance had caught him off his balance,
and he was full of rage at the conviction that McRae had sought him out
for the express purpose of displacing him.
As Robbie had previously intimated, Iredell was a poor sport. The
events of the last few days should have taught him that the duties
of captain were too much for him. But like many other people, he
was inclined to blame everything and everybody else for his own
shortcomings. He had been intensely vain of his position as captain
of the team. His nature was, at bottom, petty and vindictive, and from
the moment it dawned upon him what had happened to him, he framed a
resolution to do all that lay in his power to thwart the plans of his
successor. If he had failed, he would try to prove that whoever took
his place could do no better.
With his resentment was mingled curiosity as to the man that was to
succeed him. Who could it be? He ran over in his mind the other members
of the outfield and infield, never once thinking of the pitchers, who
were assumed to be out of the question. The more he pondered, the more
puzzled he became. Well, after all, it did not matter. He would know
soon enough. And whoever it was would find his work mighty hard for
him, as far as he, Iredell, could make it so.
That night the Giants shook the dust of St. Louis from their feet, and
with a sigh of relief, not unmingled with apprehension, took the train
for the long jump home. Relief that the disastrous Western trip was
at last over. Apprehension at the reception they would meet from the
newspapers and fans of New York.
Mabel was to accompany Joe back to New York and remain there for about
two weeks before she returned for a while to Goldsboro. Joe looked
forward to these as golden days, and the outlook went far to console
him for his chagrin at the Giants’ poor showing.
His leg and foot were mending rapidly, and he hoped to be in form again
almost as soon as he reached New York and to be able to go in and take
his regular turn in the box. And if ever the Giants needed his pitching
and batting strength, it was now!
He and Mabel had just returned from the dining car to the Pullman that
first evening on the train that was bearing them East, when McRae and
Robbie came along.
They knew Mabel well, because, on the trip of the Giants around the
world, she had gone along with Mrs. McRae and other married women as
chaperons.
“Blooming as a rose,” said Robbie, gallantly. “When it comes to
picking, we have to hand it to Joe.”
“Still as full of blarney as ever,” laughed Mabel. “I suppose you say
that to every girl you meet.”
“Not at all, not-at-all!” disclaimed Robbie, his round face beaming.
“King of Northern pitchers and queen of Southern women,” put in McRae.
“It’s a winning combination.”
“I’ll admit the part about the women,” agreed Joe.
“And I’ll admit the part about the pitchers,” said Mabel, her smile
enhanced by a bewitching dimple.
“Then we’re all happy,” laughed McRae. “But now I’m going to ask the
queen to let the king come along with Robbie and me into the smoking
car for a while. I’ve got a little business to talk over.”
“Hold on to me, Mabel,” cried Joe, in mock alarm. “Mac wants to fire
me, but he won’t do it as long as I’m with you.”
“I’m not very much worried,” responded Mabel, merrily. “For that
matter, I shouldn’t wonder if you were honing to get rid of me. Go
along now, and I’ll console myself with a magazine until you get back.”
The three men went into the smoking car and settled themselves
comfortably. Then when the two older men had lighted cigars, McRae
hurled a question.
“Joe, how would you like to be captain of the Giants?” he asked.
Joe was completely taken aback for a moment.
“Great Scott! You sure do hit a fellow right between the eyes, Mac,” he
responded. “Just what do you mean? You’ve got a captain now, haven’t
you?”
“I had an apology for a captain up to this afternoon,” was the reply.
“But I haven’t even that now. Here, read this,” and he thrust
Iredell’s written resignation into his hand.
Joe read it with minute attention.
“I’m sorry for Iredell,” he remarked, as he refolded the paper and
handed it back. “But I won’t pretend that I’m surprised. But what
strikes me all in a heap is your question to me. Remember that I’m a
pitcher. As my brother-in-law, Reggie, would remark, ‘it simply isn’t
done.’”
“You’re a pitcher, all right,” responded McRae, “and the best that
comes. But you’re more than that. You’re a thinker. And that’s the kind
of man I’ve got to have for captain. There’s no other man on the team
that fills the bill. They’d rattle around in the position like a pea in
a tincup. You’d fill it to perfection. That’s the reason I offer it to
you. You know, of course, that it means an increase in your salary, but
I know that isn’t the thing that would especially appeal to you. I want
you to take the position because I think it will be the best thing for
the Giants. Think it over.”
There was silence for a few minutes while Joe thought it over and
thought hard. He knew that it would mean an immense addition to his
work and his responsibilities. He would have to play every day, while
now he played, at the most, only twice a week.
Without self-conceit, he knew that he could qualify for the position.
Again and again he had groaned inwardly at baseball sins of omission
and commission that he felt sure would not have occurred had he had the
deciding voice on the field.
It finally simmered down to this: Would it help the Giants? Would it
increase their chances for the pennant? He decided that it would. And
the moment he reached that conclusion his answer was ready.
“I’ll take it, Mac,” he announced.
“Bully!” exclaimed McRae, as he reached over and shook Joe’s hand
to bind the bargain. “Don’t think for a minute, Joe, that I don’t
appreciate the immense amount of work that this will put upon you. I
don’t want to ride a willing horse to death.”
“That’s all right, Mac,” answered Joe. “The only possible doubt in
my mind was as to whether it might affect my pitching or hitting. I
wouldn’t want to let down in those things. But if you’re willing to
take a chance, I am.”
“I’ll take all the chances and all the responsibility,” replied McRae,
confidently. “I haven’t watched you all these years for nothing. I’ve
never asked you to do anything yet that you haven’t done to the queen’s
taste. You’ve developed into the best pitcher in the game. You’ve
developed into the best batter in the game. Now I look for you to
develop into the best captain in the game.”
“I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts that he will,” broke in Robbie, his
rubicund face aglow with satisfaction. “Now we’ll begin to see the
Giants climb.”
“I’m sure they will,” affirmed McRae. “We’ve added fifty per cent. to
the Giants’ strength by this night’s work. You know as well as I do,
Joe, that the class is there. All it needs is to be brought out. And
you’re the boy that’s going to do it. Put your fighting spirit into
them. I was going to say put your brains into them, but that couldn’t
be done without a surgical operation. But you can teach them to use the
brains they have, and that itself will go a long way.”
“How did Iredell take it when you saw him?” asked Joe, thoughtfully.
“Of course he was sore,” answered McRae. “But how much of that was due
to his soreness over that bonehead play, and how much to the fact that
I accepted his resignation so promptly, I can’t say. But I don’t think
you’ll have any trouble with him.”
Joe, who knew Iredell’s nature a good deal better than McRae, was not
at all sure, but he said nothing.
“As for the other members of the team,” went on McRae, “they all
think you’re about the best that ever happened, and I’m sure they’ll
be delighted with the change. You’ll find them backing you up to the
limit. The rookies, too, look up to you as a kingpin pitcher and
batter, and they’ll be just clay in your hands. You can do with them
whatever you will. We’ve picked up some promising material there, and
you’re the one to bring out all that’s in them.”
“You can depend on me to do my best,” Joe responded warmly.
“That means that we’ll win the flag even with our bad beginning,”
declared McRae. “And now just one other thing, Joe. I want you to feel
perfectly free to discuss with Robbie and me anything you think will be
for the best interests of the team. If you think any man ought to be
fired, tell me so. If you think of any player we can go out and get,
tell me that, too. We’ll welcome any suggestions. Have you anything of
that kind now in mind? If so, let’s have it.”
“I certainly don’t want any one fired,” said Joe, with a smile.
“At least, not for the present. As to getting any new players, I
saw something in the evening papers a half an hour ago that set me
thinking. Have you seen that the Yankees have determined to let Hays
go?”
“No, I haven’t,” replied McRae with quickened interest. “I haven’t
looked at to-night’s papers. But after all that won’t do us any good.
Some other club in the American League will snap him up.”
“That’s what I should have thought,” answered Joe. “But the surprising
thing is that all the other clubs in the American have waived claims
upon him. That leaves us free to make an offer for him, if we want him.”
“That’s funny,” mused McRae. “Remember the way he played against us in
the World Series? He had us nailed to the mast and crying for help.”
“He sure did,” agreed Robbie. “But he hasn’t been going very well since
then. Rather hard to manage in the first place, and then, too, he seems
to be losing his effectiveness. If no other club in the American League
wants him, he must be nearly through.”
“That’s the way it struck me at first when I read the telegram,” said
Joe. “Then I got to thinking it over. Why don’t the other clubs in the
American League want him?”
“I’ll bite,” said McRae. “What’s the answer?”
“Perhaps it’s this,” suggested Joe. “Hays, as you know, has that
peculiar cross-fire delivery that singles him out among pitchers. No
other pitcher in either League has one just like it. It isn’t that it’s
so very effective when you come to know it. But because it’s so unlike
any other, it puzzles all teams until they get used to it. That’s the
way it was with us in the Series. The first two games we couldn’t do a
thing to him. In the third we were beginning to bat him more freely.
“Now, what does that lead up to? Just this. The other teams in the
American League have become so used to his pitching that it’s lost its
terrors. If any one of them bought him from the Yankees, they’d have
to stack him up against the seven other teams in their League who have
learned to bat him without trouble.
“But with the National League it’s different. It would take them
considerable time to get on to him. In the meantime, he might have won
two or three games from each of them before they solved him. He might
be good for fifteen or twenty victories before this season is over. He
might----”
“By ginger!” interrupted McRae. “Joe, that think tank of yours is
working day and night. I’ll get in touch with the Yankee management by
wire at the next station.”