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College
Ball . . .
Jack's
mistake was to schedule a doubleheader, and his bad luck was that at
least a dozen scouts showed up that day. It would have been foolish to
overwork his known pitchers in these exhibitions, so he had no choice
but to pitch me in the second game. Before handing me the ball he said,
"I don't want you throwing it over eighty miles an hour." I said okay
and went out there with the intention of pleasing him.
Throwing
about seventy-seven miles an hour, I got the first two batters out, but
the third guy hit my "fastball" to Louisiana. That infuriated me.
Jack or no Jack, I couldn't accept playing half-assed. The fourth batter
dug in and licked his lips, expecting a fat lollipop to float to the
plate. I reared back and let it fly. The batter looked stunned; I'm not
sure he saw the pitch, which I estimated at ninety miles an hour. I was
mad.
As soon as
the catcher caught it, Jack called time and trudged out to the mound.
With the usual wad of chew in the left cheek and an old stogie in the
right he mumbled, "Well, you screwed me," then turned and walked back to
the dugout.
I struck out
that batter and the next five I faced. Jack was noticeably disgusted. He
put me in right field. I actually preferred playing outfield, because I
loved to hit. My first inning out there, a batter hit a long fly in my
direction. I went backward on the ball, back, back, almost to the metal
fence, and reached up. The ball sailed over my head and struck the
fence, then ricocheted off and cracked me on the head. At that exact
instant, a bee that had been hiding in my glove stung me on the finger.
I didn't know what hurt worse, my head, my finger, or my pride, and I
didn't know what part of me to hold.
Jack called
time and marched slowly to the outfield. He was spitting tobacco juice,
smoking the stogie, and holding a complete set of catcher's gear. Jack
and I were the only ones not laughing.
He dropped
the gear at my feet and said, "I think you need this to play outfield."
My
humiliation was complete. I figured my name was being crossed off the
scouts' lists.
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