Our Base Ball Club and How It Won the Championship

by Noah Brooks

The Catalpa boys thought there should have been breathless silence in the enclosure as Hiram Porter, having carefully placed his men, called to the umpire "play!" Play was accordingly called, but there was silence, by no means, in the grounds. The clatter of late comers reaching their seats, the buzz of conversation that yet arose from the crowds in the amphitheater, and the cry of boys selling score-cards disturbed the serenity of the ardent champions of the Catalpa Nine. They wondered why people should talk when so momentous a game was about opening. And Alice, with a feverish sigh of impatience, said to Miss Ida that she should think that the Chicago people had very little manners. Whereupon Miss Anstress, with great severity, said that the spectators were not so much in love with the players that they cared a pin whether either side won. This unkind remark was turned aside by Mr. Heaton who said that there were not a few among the on-lookers who had bet money in the gambling rooms outside and who did care very much which side won the game.

All this talk was brought to an end when Darius Ayres, the captain of the Calumets, stood up at the bat and made ready for the first play. Darius was a tall and shapely young fellow, renowned for his long-field hits, and a swift runner. He had an evil look in his eyes, as some of the Catalpa visitors thought, and when he struck a straight ball, like a cannon shot, to right field, there was a little shudder in one of the private boxes. But John Brubaker, always alert, captured it on a hard run. This put the Catalpas in good spirits at once. The game had opened well for them. "Two good signs, Alice," said Ida Boardman. "Won the toss and caught out the first man!"

John's clever catch did not pass unnoticed, for the numerous supporters of the Catalpas raised a little cheer which was taken up and continued around the enclosure as Sam Morse went to the bat for the home club. But Samuel fared no better than his captain, and retired on a short and easy fly to Ben Burton. The first half of the inning was ended by John Handy, who hit a hot grounder to Larry Boyne at third base. Larry mastered it in fine style and made a lightning throw to Hiram Porter on first base. The eyes of the visitors and their friends fairly sparkled as the Catalpas came in from the field. They had made a good beginning.

But no sooner had the nine reached the players' bench than Ben Burton began to criticise the manner in which honest John Brubaker had been rewarded for capturing what Ben was pleased to call "a two-old-cat fly." Larry, politely requesting Burton to be civil, picked up his bat and faced the pitching of the renowned Sam Morse. He made two ineffectual plunges at the ball, and, while the catcher of the Calumets was adjusting his mask so as to enable him to come up closer to the player, Larry stole a glance at his comrades and was mortified and annoyed to see a derisive smile on the blonde face of Ben Burton, while the other seven occupants of the bench wore an uneasy expression. Ben Burton was evidently making them uncomfortable. Larry moistened his hands, and, carefully gauging one of Morse's favorite in-shoots, hit the ball with all his might. The flying sphere went swiftly into the left field and yielded the stalwart third base man of the Catalpas two bases. Alice involuntarily clapped her hands, happily unmindful of the sour looks of her observant aunt.

Sam Morrison next stood up before the redoubtable Morse, and hit an easy grounder to Glenn Otto, at short stop, and Samuel was retired at first base. His shot, however, advanced Larry to third base, and Neddie Ellis took up the bat. But Neddie could not yet understand the puzzling curves of the Calumet's pitcher, and, having wildly struck the air three times, went out. This made two out for the Catalpas, with Larry Boyne anxiously waiting on the third base. Not long did he wait, however, for Charlie King, long of limb and keen of eye, came to the bat with great expectations on the part of the sons of Catalpa. Charlie thought favorably of the first ball pitched at him by Morse and he sent it flying to the center field for one base, and allowed Larry to come home amidst a little round of applause from the Catalpa section of the spectators. During the cheer that greeted the successful play, Charlie attempted to steal to second base but was thrown out by Billy Webb, and the ardor of the spirits of Catalpa was consequently soon dampened.

The Calumets now went to work with a will at the beginning of their second inning, and, after receiving some hints from Jamie Kennedy, who assumed to know a little about the mysteries of King's curves, Robert Peabody, the Calumet's right fielder, a Michigan University man and a famous athlete, handled the bat and called for a low ball from the pitcher of the Catalpas. This was delivered, but not where Rob had asked for it, and he politely refused to strike at it, muttering to Captain Darius, "I won't strike until I get one just knee-high." Charlie King overheard this little byplay and continued to put the ball in the vicinity of Peabody's shoulder until the umpire called "six balls." It was now about time for King to give the Chicago player a good ball, but Peabody could not be tempted to strike at it, after being ordered by his captain to try and take his base on called balls. The result was that tricky Charlie King delivered three balls in rapid succession just where the dissatisfied right fielder of the Calumets had requested them, and the umpire called, "One strike!" "Two strikes!" "Three strikes!" "Striker out!"

The ashen stick was then taken up by Tom Shoff, who sent the ball in the direction of Ben Burton at short stop, and who fumbled it, dropping it several times as if it were a hot potato, allowing Tom to reach first base in safety. Next, Glenn Otto hit a ball to Hiram Porter who fielded it handsomely, putting out the striker but allowing Shoff to go to second base. While Jamie Kennedy was at the bat, a passed ball allowed Shoff to complete three quarters of his homeward journey. With two out and a man on third base, Captain Porter naturally felt alarmed. He cautioned his men to be cool and careful, "especially cool," he added. After two strikes were called on Kennedy, he solved one of Charlie King's in-shoots and, to the delight of the Chicago on-lookers, sent the ball rolling in center field while Shoff sped swiftly homewards; and the score stood 1 and 1. The Calumet's half of the inning was ended by the retiring of Webb on a foul fly to "The Lily," as Bill Van Orman was now universally called. The Catalpa boys were not disheartened; they had confidence in each other, and they went to work again with a determination to try and recover what they had lost. In the second inning, however, they found themselves unsuccessful. Hart Stirling was fielded out at first base by Jamie Kennedy; John Brubaker, following him, met with the same fate, being thrown out at first by Glenn Otto; and Hiram Porter ended the inning by hitting a sky-scraper to James McWilliams at left field.

There was intense depression in the Catalpa section and among the nine of that famous town; only the face of Larry Boyne still bore any semblance of contentment. Larry smiled with his attempt to infuse a little more hopefulness into the Catalpa bosom. And looking to the box where Mr. Heaton's tall white hat towered conspicuously, he caught an answering smile from the young lady who carried a blue parasol.

The score now stood even at even innings, and the faces of the Chicago players wore a broad smile of complacency in place of the gloomy look that had previously been their characteristic expression. Full of confidence, James McWilliams picked out his favorite bat and faced "Tricky Charlie," as they had already dubbed the pitcher of the visitors. King was determined to retire this particular player, as "Mac" had often expressed a desire to "take the conceit out of that chap from Catalpa." Charlie did some of his fine work for the occasion and his friend McWilliams threw down his bat in disgust, after hearing the third strike called by the umpire; and Captain Darius Ayres, with a look of vengeful determination, took the place vacated by his club mate. He hit a sharp grounder between first and second bases and reached the first bag. At this point of the game, the boys from Catalpa had lost some of the hope that they had cherished at the beginning of the contest; and they were not cheered in the least by a sarcastic smile that adorned the face of their short stop, Ben Burton, who appeared to be almost glad that the chances of his own club were diminishing, instead of increasing.