The southpaw could not help being a bit affected by the unflattering remarks hurled at him from the bleachers and grandstand, even though he knew how little such things counted and how fickle the average rooter is. He felt, too, and rather painfully, the lack of encouragement from his own team. He knew he was not one of them. They had shown him that only too plainly. With the exception of one or two, they had made him perfectly aware of the fact that they regarded him as a man who had yet to win his spurs, and on whom the honor of opening the first game with the Hornets had devolved more by accident, or through a whim of their manager, than from any real worth or proven merit. Their silence as he toed the slab was in vivid contrast to the behavior of their opponents in the first half of the inning.
It made him set his teeth and resolve desperately to make good; to show them that he had something in him; to vindicate Jack Kennedy’s judgment; incidentally, to prove to the latter how grateful he was for having been given this chance.
For a second he waited for his catcher’s signal, but none came. Dirk Nelson seemed to be occupied in settling down behind the pan and making sure that his mitt was in place. Lefty wondered whether the backstop’s well-known chumminess with Pete Grist, the popular Blue Stockings’ twirler, had anything to do with this unusual state of absent-mindedness. Grist had shown unmistakable signs of ill humor on discovering that he was not to start on the slab to-day.
There was but a momentary hesitation. Bill Hagin was at bat, and Lefty had played too many practice games against the capable outfielder not to know pretty well his strong and weak points. Unfortunately the latter were few. The southpaw was satisfied, however, when he finally got Nelson’s belated signal. A slow floater was what he handed up for a starter.
Hagin, doting on speed, could not restrain himself, and struck too soon. Lefty then tried a curve. The batter swung at it, making connections and bumping a slow grounder towards short.
Eddie Lewis made the mistake of waiting for the ball, and was then forced to throw hastily in order to get it across the diamond in time. That hasty throw was wide, and Spider Grant had to leap off the cushion. Hagin was safe because of bad judgment and an error.
The crowd cheered, and urged Dutch Siegrist to carry on the good work.
The first baseman of the Hornets took no chances. In spite of Lefty’s efforts to prevent it, he managed to lay down a bunt which corkscrewed along the base line, ever threatening to roll foul, but in the end coming to rest a couple of inches on the right side. Locke snatched it up and lined it to Grant, but the delay had made it possible for the German to reach the sack in safety.
Jim Brennan smiled significantly. He had watched Locke closely and expectantly, waiting for signs of the yellow streak to show. With two men on bases and none out, it looked very much as if the southpaw’s first inning would be his last.