"It sure is, old man!"
Joe wrote home an enthusiastic account of it all, and also penned a note to Mabel, expressing the hope that she and her brother would get to St. Louis on the occasion of some big game.
"And I hope I pitch in it," Joe penned.
A day of rest, then a week of practice on their own grounds, brought the opening date nearer for St. Louis. Joe and the other players went out to the park the morning of the opening day of the season. The grounds were in perfect shape, and the weather man was on his good behavior.
"What kind of ball have the Reds been playing?" asked Joe of Rad, who was a "fiend" on baseball statistics.
"Snappy," was the answer. "We'll have our work cut out for us!"
"Think we can do 'em?"
"Nobody can tell. I know we're going to try hard."
"If I could only pitch!" murmured Joe.
The grandstand was rapidly filling. The bleachers were already overflowing. The teams had marched out on the field, preceded by a blaring band. There had been a presentation of a floral horseshoe to Manager Watson.