RECENTLY, IN THE NATIONAL LEAGUE: Edd Roush wrecks the Phillies with a final-moment right field bomb...Bucs shoot down the Robins again...The Braves lose for a change...Mama has a different idea for Sunday...
June 8, 1924
We boarded the express to Seaside Park on lower Market Street, meaning me, Benny, Mama, Aunt Maria and her two booger noses named Mikey and Enzo. They're twins with curly brown hair and I can't tell them apart and usually end up calling each one by the wrong name but it doesn't really matter because they're both capable of giving you the same headache.
We bought a morning paper before getting on the train and the baseball page had all the latest batting numbers. I told Benny that Hornsby just got his 100th hit yesterday and was hitting .457 but all he wanted to know about was the Phillie players. So I told him that Cy Williams was at .318 with eight homers and 35 knocked in, and Whitey Glazner's earned run average was down to 9.55, and that's when I felt the pebble hit my knee.
Mikey or maybe it was Enzo sat on the seat across from us with a big stupid grin on his face and his hands behind his back. I told him to give it and he shook his head, so I reached over, grabbed his arm and ripped the slingshot out of his hand. Which is when Enzo or maybe it was Mikey's slingshot marble hit my arm from across the aisle. Benny stepped in, picked the kid up and held him upside down until he bawled and Aunt Maria had to come to his rescue.
That was pretty much what the two-hour train ride to the New Jersey ocean was like. We crossed this long bridge over a bay and found ourselves at Seaside Park, which was mobbed beyond belief but full of cuties in those new figure-hugging swimsuits that actually stopped midway down their thighs. Me and Benny had our sleeveless striped tops and dark swim shorts, and the second we helped Mama, Maria and the brats find a few square inches on the sand we were running into the sea.
It was nice to have a day off from watching the Phillies lose, though Benny was itching to get scores of the Giants and Brooklyn games if we could. I told him he could go off and find a place with a ticker machine if he wanted, so that's what he did while I let the waves wash over my head for a while.
There were these five young dames nearby that were splashing around and at one point two of them waded over and told me that their friend Madge thought I was a looker. I wasn't sure what that meant but I had a good idea, so I waded over to meet them. Madge was actually the least cute of the bunch, but they all had the same bobbed hair style and were going to the same girl college down in Maryland and were full of laughs and smelled a lot like gin. They said they wanted to play miniature golf and asked if I was alone, so I said I was just down there with Benny and maybe I'd go find him and we could all play.
Which was the exact time Mikey and Enzo decided to swim out and ambush me in the water. I told the girls I'd meet them over at the course, then dragged both kids out of the water before we all drowned each other, dumped them back on the blanket and told Mama I had to go look for Benny.
Naturally I found my friend in the only pool hall on the boardwalk, where he was all juiced because he'd found out the Pirates were behind by four runs, and because he was still sobbing for Ruth Malcolmson it took me longer than usual to talk him into meeting my new friends.
The second he laid eyes on them at Putt-Putt Gardens, though, Miss Philadelphia went poof in his mind. We bet the gals ten bucks we'd finish with better scores than them, and because they'd been drinking we knew it would be no contest. Except we had no idea that Leslie, Gibby, Dot, Sarah and Mitzy had been up to Seaside Park for the third straight weekend and knew the course like the freckles on their arms. The match was a disaster, with two of them whomping us by seven strokes, and after they took our money Benny borrowed one of their secret gin bottles for a loser's swig.
Mama scolded us for being away so long like we thought she would, we both got sunburns, I had sand in many dark places and the second I sat back in my train seat late in the day, a fresh pebble hit me in the chest. The shore can be nice, but Baker Bowl is a lot less dangerous. Good night, reader-people!
Other National League games today:
at GIANTS 8-14-1, PIRATES 6-9-3
Jeff Pfeffer gets a start for Pittsburgh with Wilbur Cooper injured, and the Giants crush him for seven runs after he pitches two good innings. Barnes almost gives it up for New York but Rosy Ryan comes on to get the tough Eddie Moore for the final out in the 9th. It's always nice when the Phils can pick up a half game by not even playing.
at ROBINS 12-12-1, CUBS 4-12-1
With the Bucs finally out of town, the Robins retrieve every piece of good luck they couldn't find for three days. Bill Doak is his old self, the top five Brooklyn lineup spots are on base 16 out of the 25 time they come up, and Wheat and Brown drive in six runs between them.
|NATIONAL LEAGUE through Sunday, June 8|
|New York Giants||29||21||.580||3.5|
|St. Louis Cardinals||29||24||.547||5|