Cincinnati had been going strong since Hughson had taken the reins of management and was maintaining a respectable standing compared with what it had held at the close of the last season. There were some disorganizing elements in the team, however, that would have to be rooted out before the nine could be recognized as a serious contender. Hughson had already spotted these and was casting about for available talent to take the place of those he intended to oust, but this promised to take some time.
Chicago was really the club that the Giants were watching most carefully. Their pitching staff had been greatly strengthened and they were well provided for in every department of the game. They had got off on the wrong foot at the beginning of the season, but were now climbing steadily, and the way the Cubs had clawed their way through the Giant defense in the series lately concluded showed that they had to be reckoned with seriously.
If the pennant were to stay in the East at all that season, the Giants must be depended on for the victory. Brooklyn had flashes of form in which they were simply unbeatable, especially when their opponents happened to be the Giants, against whom they always put forth their best efforts. But the very day after they had decorated their opponents with a row of goose eggs they were as likely as not to play like a lot of “bushers.” It seemed impossible for them to maintain a winning streak, and it was this in and out playing that militated against their chances for the flag.
Boston had a good team, and when that was said it about “let them out.” It was not a great team, although there were two or three real stars on it that helped keep them in the running. At the present time they were sixth in the race, with very little chance of climbing much higher.
The Phillies were going none too well, although better than the year before. Their outfield was as good as any in the league, and some weak spots in the pitching department had been strengthened by the substitution of new blood. Two or three of their rookies seemed to have in them the making of stars. With a stronger infield they might well be pennant contenders. But even as it was, they were always dangerous, and could stage a rally at the most unexpected moment. Any club that counted on them as “easy” was likely to have a rude awakening.
But all clubs looked alike to Joe, who this season was showing the best form of his life. Never had he whipped the ball over the plate with more terrific speed. Many times the ball was in Mylert’s glove while the batsman was making a vain swing for it. The “hop” ball that he was making a specialty of this season had an uncanny jump just before it reached the plate that completely fooled the opposing batters. His fadeaway, too, had all the deceptive qualities that had made it a terror, and his other curves and slants were working with magical efficiency.
Many elements combined to make him by far the finest pitcher in either league. One was the fact that he kept himself in perfect condition. He had no bad habits to sap his strength, no surreptitious drinking, no “jazzing it up” at all night dancing and card parties, such as too often have proved the ruin of promising players. He started every day with a clear head, a rested body, and with strength and vigor pulsing through his veins.
Moreover, he had gained the knowledge and experience that gave him confidence when he faced the batters. He knew the strength and weakness of every player in the league, what kind of balls they liked, what kind they found hard to hit, and he served them up to them accordingly. And his control was so perfect that he could split the plate or cut the corners at will.