The play that won

by Ralph Henry Barbour

The heat had its effect on spectators and players alike. The cheering and singing lacked “pep” and the rival teams comported themselves as though their one desire was to get back to the shade of the benches. Ted glowered and muttered at the slowness of the contest. In the first two innings only a long fly by the Temple second baseman that was neatly captured by Whipple and a couple of inexcusable and innocuous errors livened the dreariness of the game. The third inning began like the preceding ones but promised better when, in the last half of it, Warwick got a man to second on the first clean hit of the game. The Brown’s cheerers came to life then and, although the next batter fouled to catcher, making the second out, Warwick paid for the vocal encouragement by putting the first run across on a hit past third.

Temple got men on third and second bases in the first of the fourth and tried hard to bring them home, but Hal Saunders, having allowed a hit and walked a batsman, retrieved himself and saved the situation by knocking down a hard liner that was well above his head. Very coolly and leisurely he picked it up, while the man on third scuttled to the plate, and threw out the batsman at first.

The fifth inning went better. The air had cooled perceptibly and both Hal and Loring were now twirling real ball and the game was becoming a pitchers’ battle pure and simple. When Hal got down to business, hits became as scarce as hen’s teeth, nor was Loring much behind him in effectiveness to-day. Batters stepped to the plate, swung or waited and retired with trailing bat. One-two-three was the order. The game went into the seventh with Warwick’s one-run lead looking very large. Ted, his disappointments forgotten, was “rooting” hard and tirelessly behind third. Temperature was now a matter of no moment. Warwick was ahead, Hal was mowing ’em down and victory was hovering above the brown banner!

It was in her half of the seventh that Temple evened up the score. With two gone and first base inviolate Temple’s third man up, her chunky little tow-headed shortstop whose clever playing had frequently won applause from friend and foe, waited cannily and let Hal waste two deliveries. Then he swung at a wide one and missed. The next was another ball, although it cut the corner of the plate, and, with the score against him, Hal tried to bring the tow-headed youth’s agony to a merciful end by sneaking over a fast and straight one. But the shortstop outguessed him that time. There was a mighty crack and away arched the ball. And away sped the batsman. Probably he had small hope of safety, for the sphere was making straight for the right fielder, but he knew enough not to jump to conclusions. Which is why, when the ball bounded from Whipple’s hands, the runner was almost at second. Urged on by the delighted coaches, he slid into third a few inches ahead of the ball.

What caused Whipple’s error I do not know. He had the sun in his eyes, of course, but he had made a harder catch under like circumstances in the second inning. But better men than young Whipple have done the same and so we needn’t waste time trying to find an excuse for him. The mischief was done, and four minutes later the Temple captain had tied up the score with a Texas Leaguer back of third.

There were no more hits in the seventh and none in the eighth. In the ninth Temple almost won by a scratch and an error after Hal had lammed an inshoot against a batsman’s ribs and he had reached second on a sacrifice bunt. But the error, while it took him to third, did no more, and Hal settled down and struck out his tenth man.

Warwick got one runner to second in her half, but he died there and the contest went into extra innings. By this time the sun was behind the trees at the edge of the field and a faint breeze was stirring. Ted was parched of throat and hoarse of voice and was alternately hopeful and despairing. The tenth inning went the way of the others. Hal had two more strike-outs to his credit and Loring one. In the eleventh the strain began to show. Hal passed the first man up, the second hit safely, the third struck out, the fourth laid down a bunt in front of the plate. Temple shouted and raved in delight. But Hal was still master. Another strike-out averted the threatened disaster. Warwick went in in her half with Captain Tempest up. George tried hard to deliver, but made an easy out, third to first. The next batter had no better luck. The third was Billy Whipple. Billy was known as a fair batsman, although to-day he had signally failed. Maybe Loring eased up a trifle. If so he produced his own disaster, for Billy picked out the second delivery and everlastingly whanged it!

In Ted’s words, it went where it would do the most good. It fell to earth twenty feet short of the gymnasium steps and ten feet beyond the center fielder’s eager hands. Billy didn’t make the circuit because George Tempest himself, coaching behind third, blocked his path to the plate. There was a howl at that, for it did seem that Billy might have made it. But playing it safe won out for once, for Loring was a bit shaken by that blow at his record and Warwick’s next batter hit safely between second and shortstop and Billy romped home. That ended the scoring in that inning, but the Brown was again in the lead and Warwick shouted and chanted.

Ted, realizing the effort Temple would make to even things up in the twelfth, and knowing that the head of her batting list was up, was on tenter-hooks. Warwick had the victory in her grasp if she could only hold it. But Hal had been showing signs of fatigue the last two innings and there had been a perceptible let-down. Ted anxiously took counsel with himself. Then he jumped to his feet and ran around to the home bench. Hal, his face rather drawn and plastered with dust in the wrinkles, was pulling on his glove when Ted reached him.

“Saunders,” said Ted breathlessly, “if you can hold ’em we’ve got the game!”