Baseball Joe, Captain of the Team; or, Bitter Struggles on the Diamond
CHAPTER X
GETTING IN SHAPE
“There’s something right off the bat for a starter,” exulted Robbie. “Now, how about the rest of the team?”
“I think they’re just about as good as they come,” remarked Joe. “Jackwell and Bowen are a big improvement on Hupft and McCarney both in fielding and batting. Burkett is digging them out of the dirt at first all right, and Larry takes everything that comes into his territory. Our outfield is one of the heaviest hitting in the League----”
“And it will hit harder yet when you’re playing out there the days you’re not in the box,” chuckled Robbie. “They’ll have to move back the fences in the ball parks for your homers. You’ll break up many a game with that old wagon spoke of yours.”
“Oh, the days I play in the outfield, one of the men will have to be benched,” mused Joe. “Which one shall it be?”
“We’ll let that depend on the way they keep up with the stick,” said McRae. “That will be a spur to them. Neither Curry nor Wheeler nor Bowen will want to sit on the bench, and they’ll work their heads off to keep on the batting order. There again it will be a good thing for the team. Every man will be fighting to make the best showing possible.”
“Talking about Jackwell and Bowen,” remarked Robbie. “Have you ever noticed anything queer about those birds?”
“They don’t seem to be as husky as they might be,” observed McRae. “Just the other day they begged to be let off because they said they were sick. Over eating, perhaps. That’s a common fault with young players when they first come into the big League and eat at the swell hotels.”
“It wasn’t that I meant,” explained Robbie. “They seem to be nervous and jumpy. Looking around as though they expected every minute to feel somebody’s hand on their shoulder.”
“I’ve noticed that,” said Joe. “It was only the other day I was speaking to Jim about it. Probably it will wear off when they get a little better used to big-league company. I’ll have a quiet little talk with them about it.”
For another hour they discussed matters bearing on the welfare of the club, and then Joe went back to Mabel.
“I thought you’d forgotten all about poor little me,” she said, with an adorable pout of her pretty lips.
Joe looked around to see that no one was observing them, and straightened out the pout in a manner perfectly satisfactory to both.
“Well, did McRae fire you, as you call it?” asked Mabel.
“Hardly,” answered Joe, as he settled himself beside her. “In fact, instead of kicking me downstairs he kicked me up.”
“Meaning?” said Mabel, with a questioning intonation.
“Meaning,” repeated Joe, “that he made me captain of the Giant team.”
“What!” exclaimed Mabel, as though she could not believe her ears.
“Just that,” was the reply.
“Oh, Joe, what an honor!” exclaimed Mabel, with pride and delight. “I’m so proud! That’s another proof of what they think of you.”
“I suppose it is an honor,” agreed Joe, “and it will mean a nice little addition to my salary. I’ll clean up over twenty thousand this year altogether. And, if we get into the World Series, there will be a few thousands more. But it means a great addition of work and responsibility.”
“You mustn’t overtax yourself, dear,” said Mabel, anxiously. “Remember that your health and strength are above everything.”
“If I felt any healthier or stronger than I am now, I’d be afraid of myself,” replied Joe, grinning. “Don’t worry, honey. All I care for is to make good in my new job.”
“You’ll do that,” said Mabel, proudly, as she patted his hand. “You’d make good in anything. You’d make a good president of the United States.”
“I’d be sure of one vote, anyhow, if I ran for the presidency,” laughed Joe. “In fact, I’m afraid they’d have you pinched for repeating. You’d try to stuff the ballot boxes.”
The long journey ended at last, with all the players glad to be back in what they fondly referred to as “little old New York.” There was no brass band to meet them at the station, nor had the fans turned out in any great numbers, as they did when the Giants returned from a triumphant trip. It was an unusual experience for the Giants, who had the reputation of a great road team and commonly arrived with scalps at their belt. At present, however, they were distinctly out of favor. Nor did they derive any comfort from the brief and sarcastic references to their return in the columns of the city press.
Joe and Mabel took a taxicab to the hotel where they usually made their headquarters. Reggie, to his regret, had not been able to accompany them, though he promised to come on later.
“Beastly shame,” he had said, in parting, “that I could only see the Giants when they were coming a cropper. But I’ll get to the big city soon and see them get even with those rotters. My word! It’s been simply disgustin’!”
The perfect rest during the journey had been of immense benefit to Joe’s injured leg and foot, and he was overjoyed to find that he was now as fit as ever. The perfect physical condition in which he kept himself had contributed toward a quick recovery.
The relief and satisfaction of McRae and Robbie over his condition were unbounded, for with Joe out of the game the Giants were a different and far inferior team.
Mabel had plenty of shopping and sightseeing to keep her spare time employed through the day, and at night she and Joe had a delightful time taking in the best shows on Broadway.
The first morning that the team turned out for practice on the Polo Grounds, Joe sought an opportunity for a quiet talk with Iredell.
The fact that McRae had made a generous interpretation of the clause in Iredell’s contract regarding his salary as captain had not abated the resentment of that individual. He had been moody and grouchy ever since his displacement, and had nursed his supposed grievance until his heart was fairly festering with bitterness. He was sore at McRae, but even more so at Joe, as his successor. The latter, he persuaded himself, had intrigued to get his place.
“I’m going to have a talk with all the boys together, Iredell,” Joe greeted him pleasantly, in a secluded corner of the grounds. “But first I wanted to see you personally. I just want to say that we’ve always got along together all right, that I value you as one of the best players on the team, and that I hope our pleasant relations will continue.”
But Iredell was in no mood to take the olive branch that Joe held out to him.
“I suppose I’ll have to do what you tell me to,” he muttered sourly. “You’re the boss now.”
“I don’t like that word ‘boss,’” returned Joe. “I don’t have any of the feeling that that word implies. If I have to exercise the authority that has been given me, it will be simply because that’s my job, and not because I have a swelled head. McRae’s the boss of all of us. You say you’ll have to do what I tell you to. But I’m hoping you’ll do your best, not because I tell you to, but because you want to do whatever is for the best interests of the team. How about it, Iredell? Does that go?”
“Oh, what’s the use of talking about it,” snapped Iredell. “I’ll do my work as shortstop. You’ve got the job you’ve been working for. Let it go at that.”
His tone was so offensive, to say nothing of the implication of his words, that Joe had to make a mighty effort to restrain his naturally quick temper. But he knew that he could not rule others unless he had first learned to master himself. So that it was with no trace of anger that he replied:
“Listen to me, Iredell. I haven’t worked for this job. I didn’t want it. I hadn’t even thought of it. I was struck all in a heap when McRae asked me to take it. And at that time, you’d already resigned. That’s the absolute truth.”
Iredell made no answer, but his sniff of unbelief spoke volumes. Joe saw that while he was in this mood there was nothing to be gained by talking longer.
“Think it over, old boy,” he said pleasantly. “I’m your friend, and I want to stay your friend. I know how well you can play, and I’m sure you’re going to do your best with the rest of us to bring the pennant once more to New York.”
He moved away, and a little later had gathered the rest of the team in the clubhouse.
“I’m not going to do much talking, fellows,” he said. “McRae has already told you that I’m to be captain of the team. I’m proud to be captain of such a bunch. I feel that all of us are brothers. We’ve been comrades in many a hard fight, and there are lots of such fights ahead of us. But all our fighting will be done against the other fellows and not among ourselves. I’m counting on every one of you to go in and work his head off for the good of the team. That must be the only thing that counts with any of us.
“I don’t want to exercise a single bit of authority that I don’t have to. But I’m not going to fall down on my job if I can help it. If I have to call a man down, I’ll call him down. While we’re out on the field, what I say will have to go. You may think it’s right or you may think it’s rotten, but all the same it will have to go. But you’ll understand that there’s nothing personal and that whatever’s done is for the good of the team. You know I’d rather boost than roast, and that I’ll praise a good play just as readily as I’d blame a bad one. Now how about it, fellows? Are you with me?”
“We’re wid ye till the cows come home!” shouted Larry, enthusiastically. “Three cheers for the new captain!”
Rousing cheers shook the clubhouse and sealed the compact.
Then, with a new spirit, the Giants plunged into the pennant fight. It was a hard fight that lay before them, and none of them underrated it. But the grim determination that had been in evidence many times previously was now again to the fore, and it boded ill for their rivals.
Mabel, after a tender parting, had returned for a brief while to Goldsboro, and Joe concentrated all the energies of brain and body on his new task. Like the war horse, he “sniffed the battle from afar,” and was eager to plunge into the thick of the fray. Would he emerge the winner?
Baseball Joe, for the time being, gave no more attention to Iredell’s grouchiness. He knew the player felt sore, but never realized how far that soreness might carry the fellow.
“I’ll fix him some day, see if I don’t,” muttered Iredell to himself when on his way to the hotel that night. “I’ll fix him. Just wait and see! I’ll teach him to ride over me!”