“I’ll do my best,” promised Joe, as he picked up his bat and started for the plate.
“Got any curves you want straightened out?” Joe asked of Miles as he faced him.
“Try to straighten out this one,” challenged Miles, as he put over a fast incurve between knee and waist.
Joe caught it full and square and the ball sailed out between right and center. The fielders took one look at it and threw up their hands. It soared into the center field bleachers, where one of the fans pocketed it as a souvenir of one of the longest and cleanest home run clouts ever made on Forbes Field.
Joe slackened up as soon as he rounded first and just jogged around the bases while the Pittsburgh players looked at each other in consternation. Was this the man who rumor had said was ready for the toboggan?
Joe dented the rubber and came in flushed and smiling to the Giants’ dugout, to be mauled and pounded by his rejoicing mates.
“Joe, old boy, you’re a wonder!” exclaimed Jim as he threw his arms about him. “Those birds are standing on their heads. They don’t know where they’re at.”
“I hope they’ll feel that way all through the nine innings,” laughed Joe.
“They will,” predicted Jim confidently. “It’s your day, old boy, and you won’t be denied. I watched you while you were in the box. You’ve got the same easy swing, the same perfect control, the same mastery of the batsman that you had in the early part of the season.”
That Jim was right was demonstrated as the game progressed. Never did Joe justify more fully his great reputation. He had his opponents swinging like a gate. In vain did they resort to bunting, to kicking at the umpire’s decisions, to trying to get hit by the ball. They were one of the heaviest hitting teams in the league, but in that game Joe made them look like bushers.