By Calvin J. Butterworth
Detroit Free-Enterprise

July 2, 1924

Up to this mid-season point, the White Sox have been swimming almost daily with the mermaids of luck. It is a pleasure to announce, then, that these fair, half-amphibian ladies are suddenly washing out with the morning tide.

Triples from Hooper and Ray Morehart helped give the Sox a 3-0 lead at Navin Field today with their ace hurler Sloppy Thurston at the helm against the often browbeaten Ken Holloway. Yet these Detroiters are coming off an excellent June, appear to be launching an even more boisterous July, and the directions of these two fighting ships certainly seem to be on opposite sides of the compass.

Holloway calmed down after the 2nd and stifled the Chicago sticks with shutout pitching for the next five frames. A Heilman force-out brought home one run in the 3rd, and a pinch Wingo triple in the 7th another. Thurston retired the first two Bengals in the last of the 9th, the Navin nabobs all on their feet, securing hats on heads while they sadly eyed the exits. But Bob Jones got another pinch-hit, this a single, and after Rigney drew a wide free ticket to first, hope poured onto the field from the rafters. Lu Blue, a very solid batsman when he's healthy enough to play, picked out a Sloppy offering and lined it into the gap to tie the game! Southpaw Mike Cvengros entered to face our lefty Manager, who made out on a 1-for-5 day and propel the contest into extra time.

Now Mostil was already hurt for Chicago, a rare event this year in itself, but when Archdeacon also left the game with an ailment back in the 7th, horrible glove man Roy Elsh was forced to take his place in center field. It was a fateful omen, indeed, for after Cvengros walked Manush with one out in the 10th, Larry Woodall hit for Bassler and rifled a ball deep in his direction. Elsh turned east instead of west, changed his mind again, did a spastic's jig and the ball flew over his head and rolled to the fence. Here came Heinie, there went Woodall into third base for a winning triple, Detroit's third pinch dagger of the game!

We are now just one notch to the rear of the White Sox, with Rip Collins winding up for his hopeful 12th win tomorrow against Robertson. As the Tiger players no doubt can admit at this moment, the scent of second place is powerful, and rather sweet.

CHI 210 000 000 0 - 3 11 1
DET 001 000 101 1 - 4 12 0

Other American League games today:

at ATHLETICS 9-12-1, YANKEES 2-6-3
I imagine holding the multi-injured Athletics to less than ten runs can be viewed these days as some kind of small triumph for New York, but dropping two full games below the .500 mark certainly is not. Sad Sam Jones trails 4-0 before the Yanks even produce one hit, a solo homer by Meusel. Ruth finally contributes a double with two outs in the 8th, but Baumgartner's ninth win has been long decided. Will New York ever win again? Pennock takes the hill for them tomorrow against Rommel, for those fans who still have a crumb of faith in their trouser pockets.

at SENATORS 3-8-3, RED SOX 0-3-1
Meanwhile, the Nats continue to do no wrong. Ogden throws a brilliant shutout and singles in the winning run himself in the 2nd, as three Washington errors are never cashed in by sinking Boston.

at INDIANS 2-10-0, BROWNS 1-8-0
A severely frustrating day for the Tribe that still ends splendidly for them. Cleveland leaves 12 men adrift and grounds into two killing double plays against Wingard, but St. Louis can do even less with Shaute, who knocks in the winning runs with a single in the 6th. Readers? We now have a thrilling three-way tie for fifth place.

AMERICAN LEAGUE through Wednesday, July 2
Washington Senators 5126.654
Chicago White Sox 4332.5737
Detroit Tigers 4334.5588
New York Yankees 3638.48613.5
Cleveland Indians 3343.43417.5
Philadelphia Athletics 3343.43417.5
St. Louis Browns 3343.43417.5
Boston Red Sox 3144.41319



July 2, 1924

I woke up today with that Canadian giggle-water still doing the Charleston in my head, and there was a copy of Weird Tales: The Unique Magazine next to my pillow, folded open to a story written by Harry Houdini himself. It was nice of Heinie Sand to slip me the magazine, but all it did was give me strange dreams about spirit mediums.

I also dreamed these big, shadowy guys were in my room performing some secret ceremony on me, which I guess explains the letters H.G.F. that I saw inked on my ankle when I was washing up. Those crumbs! I threw on my oversized Phillie top which wasn't getting washed until after today's last game here in Boston and was really beginning to stink, nabbed some biscuits from downstairs and high-tailed it out to Braves Field.

Harper and Wrightstone and Holke and Woehr were all snickering at me when I came in the locker room but I didn't say a word because I was still pretty honored to be included with these lunatics and needed to get through the summer with them. But then Art Fletcher called me over and said the Braves batboy was sick, and I had to work for both teams in the same game! Were they kidding me?

Nope, they weren't. The breeze that comes off the Charles River a lot took the day off, and It was over ninety degrees even in the shade. Dave Bancroft, the player-manager of the Braves, seemed like a good egg but he was out of his lineup with a bad shoulder so wasn't in the best mood and stood right next to me when I was setting up all the Boston bats, like it was going to be my fault if they lost the game or something.

From what I could see of the game, it was another close battle. Incredible Holke doubled in a run for us in the 1st, and Bill Hubbell tripled in Sand in the 2nd, but four Brave singles in their 2nd tied it up in no time. I was running back and forth between the dugouts like a nut, at the same time fetching balls to the umpire at home plate, and my wool top was so drenched with sweat it felt like it was pushing me into the ground.

Rube Marquard was throwing for Boston, a guy who used to be pretty tough for the Giants, and he still pitched good games once in a while but we had his number today. Mokan doubled, Ford tripled and Hubbell got another hit to put us ahead 4-2 in the 4th, and then Hubbell began getting out of pickles like he usually does. I tried to spend less and less time in the Braves dugout because it was getting deadlier in there and not one player or coach had a friendly look for me. Finally, after Mokan whacked a homer in the 8th and Harper pinch-hit a single after he had me rub my hands on his bat handle, we had three more runs and the easy win—our 30th one!

Leaving a town after a victory has to be the only way to travel in baseball, as I'm sure I'll experience after the opposite happens, but tonight everyone was in a great mood at the hotel. The Havana Grit Faction was out carousing somewhere, but Sand and Ford and Frank Parkinson invited me into a room to throw some dice, and they told me some great stories about playing ball, and how'd they'd do it for free if they could. I said the game looked kind of easy from up in the stands and Heinie said oh no it ain't, and promised to get me in the batting cage one of these days to prove it.

That's sure something else to look forward to, along with my first train trip with a big league team tomorrow morning—straight down to big old New York. Good night, reader-people!

PHL 110 200 030 - 7 13 1
BOS 020 000 000 - 2 13 0

Other National League games today:

ROBINS 9-14-5, at GIANTS 6-8-0
More humiliation for Giants fans, as they get swept three straight in their own park by the hated Robins. Brooklyn makes five errors this time and it doesn't even matter because Mule Watson pitches like a dead one and the top four spots in the Robin lineup are on base 14 out of 20 times. It's going to put McGraw and his disappointing boys in a sour spot when we walk in there for the Fourth of July double-header, and we've played them pretty tough all year. I can't wait!

REDS 7-10-1, at CUBS 1-9-0
Dazzy Vance may be having a great season, but this Eppa Rixey guy is even stingier. He goes to 11-4 by wiping out the dying Cubs and drops his earned run average to a little over 2.00. Walker, Ike Caveney and Rixey himself all hit homers off Kauffman.

PIRATES 8-12-2,at CARDINALS 3-7-1
I've decided that by following the Bucs every day I learn more about science and mathematics than I ever learned in Mrs. Crackerbee's class. For instance, if Team B compiles one to five runs in the first three innings, the Pirates will erase that before six innings. If there is a dangerous hitter in Team B's lineup, this player will injure himself immediately before or during a series with the Pirates (catcher Verne Clemons today, for two weeks, after Hi Bell was forced to pitch for the Cards because Alan Sothoron was injured). And the science experiment that is proved without fail is that if Team B makes a mistake in the field, the Pirates will immediately beat Team B's brains out. Jack Smith, playing in center to get another lefty into the lineup against Lee Meadows, drops a ball with two outs and no one on base in the 1st for a 3-three base error. Cuyler singles, Smith walks, Traynor singles, Wright doubles and the game and class are over. Hornsby goes 6-for-16 in the 4-game Pittsburgh sweep, but as weird a tale as it seems, fails to get one big hit.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Wednesday, July 2
Pittsburgh Pirates5022.694
Cincinnati Reds4630.6056
Brooklyn Robins4232.5689
New York Giants4033.54810.5
St. Louis Cardinals3736.50713.5
Chicago Cubs3141.43119
Philadelphia Phillies3046.39522
Boston Braves1955.25832




By Calvin J. Butterworth
Detroit Free-Enterprise

July 1, 1924

Perhaps the tide has shifted. Perhaps we are on a course bound for second place in less than a week. For when we can take a hurler with as much merit as Urban "Red" Faber of Chicago and boot him around like a misbehaving mutt, sunnier times could indeed be in the offing.

After Heilman delighted the packed Navin Field gathering with a 2-run single in the 1st, Earl Whitehill gave the runs back instantly when Hooper began a Sox rally with a deafening double. But the dangerous white hosiery strangled itself in the 3rd. Blue led with a free pass, our Manager singled, and after a Heilman force-out Manush skied a ball out to Maurice Archdeacon, a seldom-playing speedster with a notoriously heavy glove. Said piece of handwear promptly failed him, the ball bounced away to the fence, and the two-base gaffe put Detroit back on top. Pratt was plunked soon after, and when O'Rourke bounced a ball in front of shortstop Barrett, his heave toward first found a mind and direction of its own and two more runners scored.

From there the Earl of Whitehill reclaimed his pitching throne, and the Tigers continued to scratch away. Heilman doubled in the Manager in the 4th, and four more singles gave us two more tallies in the 5th. Faber was finally sent a-packing for Mike Cvengros and Dixie Leverett, but the all-important damage was long done.

Two more likely heated affairs will close out this series before the Brownies arrive for double Fourth of July festivities, but our Manager—whose name I may even mutter again soon should his teams ribald play keep up—must be tickled over recent results. We can tie Chicago for second place by taking these last two games, and I implore all attending fans to arrive early at Navin to secure entry.

Other American League games today:

at ATHLETICS 15-16-2, YANKEES 2-6-1
Not content with the 14-0 shellacking they administered to New York yesterday, the Mackmen do it again, this time smashing Waite Hoyt for seven runs in the 2nd inning after Meusel gives the Yanks a very brief 1-0 lead with a 1st inning single. To add insult, A's cleanup man Hauser goes out with an injury after getting plunked during the 2nd, making that three great Philadelphia hitters on the ailment pine, yet they then score EIGHT more runs in the 7th inning off a host of Gotham circus clowns, while the weakest Philadelphia starter Dennis Burns is busy churning through the Yankee "batters" like an English man-o-war. With the score against them now 29-2 in two days, things have gotten so rancid in New York that there may be no fans left in Yankee Stadium when they finally arrive home. After their Shibe visit they get to play in Washington.

at SENATORS 5-11-1, RED SOX 3-11-1
And the Nats are in no mood to lose to anyone. Mogridge nails down the stunning team's 50th win today after nearly getting removed by Harris early on. George allows ten hits in his first three innings but talks the manager into keeping him in and 1-hits Boston from there. Harris thanks him by driving in his ninth game-winner, a key double in the 5th off Ferguson to snap the 3-3 tie.

at INDIANS 10-15-0, BROWNS 8-14-3
Just an insane battle all around, and typical of wild western play. Sherry Smith, who conquered Detroit easily in his last appearance, has nothing from the start here and gives the Brownies six runs in the 2nd inning on six hits and two walks. But Vangilder is betrayed by his awful fielders, as three errors and a Speaker homer put five on the board for the Tribe in the 3rd. It's 9-9 after a three-run 6th by Cleveland. Pruett relieves the bruised Vangilder yet supplies none, as Homer Summa breaks the tie with a 2-run single in the 8th. If nothing else, there are genuine thrills at the bottom of the league, with all four clubs within one game in the losing column!

AMERICAN LEAGUE through Tuesday, July 1
Washington Senators 5026.658
Chicago White Sox 4331.5816
Detroit Tigers 4234.5538
New York Yankees 3637.49312.5
St. Louis Browns 3342.44016.5
Cleveland Indians 3243.42717.5
Philadelphia Athletics 3243.42717.5
Boston Red Sox 3143.41918



July 1, 1924

The Phillie players were making a ruckus most of last night at the hotel, but it was easy for me to nod off after all the bat and club house work I was doing. Any kid who tells you being a batboy is the most fun job in the world doesn't know what he's talking about.

There's only one game today and tomorrow so I should get through those no sweat, and then we have a day off to take the train down to New York and play the Giants starting with a big July 4th double-header. Before heading over to the field this morning I sent Rachel a telegram and told her to meet me behind the Phillies' dugout at the Polo Grounds and didn't say a word about my new job. She'll probably be over the moon about it.

Johnny Couch was facing Jesse Barnes today, and because I was able to finish my bat setups earlier this time, I had a chance to learn a few things about what players do before a game. Namely, they play cards, cuss at each other a lot and look at girlie magazines. Heinie Sand, who it turns out is a nice guy from San Francisco and is just a little taller than me, told me that most every club in baseball keeps a stack of swimsuit magazines and cheap detective tales around, thinking the players will get satisfied with them and not want to go out carousing for girls after the games. As I watched Hod Ford poke through a copy of Detective Classics with an almost-naked girl on the front, it seemed to me it just made the players want to hit the town even more.

The other thing that happens is nobody talks to the starting pitcher. Unless you're the manager or coach, you have to treat him like he isn't even there. I made the mistake of looking at Couch's face today when I handed him his polished shoes and I thought he was going to murder me.

The good thing is that my look didn't wreck his performance today one bit. For the first five innings all he did was give the Braves two singles. The problem was that Barnes was throwing just as good, even though he'd lost ten straight times after winning his first three of the year.

Sand, Harper and Holke then singled in a row in the top of the 6th to puts ahead 1-0. I was running bats around with Cy up at the plate and I missed the pitch he whiffed on. Wrightstone popped out to end the inning, but in the last of the 7th Couch got tired real fast. Bill Cunningham tripled to their canyon of a center field, Frank Gibson doubled and after a Wilson single, Cotton Tierney hit a sacrifice pop fly that put them ahead.

The dugout mood got dark and crabby then. Cusses were aimed at the ground or sky instead of at other players. Harper came up to me in the 8th and said "Rub my bat, kid." I said "Aren't I supposed to lose it again?" and he said "Rub it and if I get another hit you're in the H.G.F." I asked him what that was, but he didn't answer. Sand singled again to start the inning and Harper went to the plate. Where he singled! Holke followed with a loud double and we were tied up 2-2! Sand came in the dugout after scoring so I asked him what H.G.F. was but he went right past me like I suddenly had a disease.

Couch pitched a scoreless 8th, but Cunningham started the Boston 9th with his second straight triple off him. The small crowd was going crazy. Fletcher waved the infield in close but it didn't matter. Gibson skied a ball out to Cy, but his throws was late and weak and the winning Braves run scored.

I was afraid to look at anyone in the club house after. Harper talked a bluer streak than I ever thought was possible and threw his roast beef sandwich across the room. "We should NEVER lose to these rubes!" he screamed. I went back to that hamburger joint by myself because Grover had gone back to Philadelphia to retire, but when I opened my hotel room door later there was a note on the floor:

H.G.F. 10 p.m. RM 609.

Naturally I was up there five minutes early and knocked. There was some low whispering inside, and then Russ Wrightstone opened the door. The room had so much cigar smoke I could barely see who else was there, but it was Harper, Holke and a weasel-looking bench guy who almost never plays named Andy Woehr. They all had big Cuban cigars, glasses of light brown stuff that looked like whiskey, and two young girls dressed in underthings were sitting on the bed painting each other's nails.

"Welcome to the Havana Grit Faction," said Wrightstone, and yanked me inside. It was him and Harper's secret society that Fletcher didn't even know about, and to get into it you needed a special invitation. Harper said I belonged because I'd brought him nothing but good lumber luck on my first two days on the job. So in the next hour I smoked my first cigar (which I'm still coughing over as I write this), drank my first Canadian whiskey from Wrightstone's private jug, and learned that Holke liked to be called "incredible" whenever he got a big hit. I thought that was kind of dumb, calling a guy The Incredible Holke when he was only hitting around .300, but if I was going to stay in this faction I had to play along.

I also learned how to paint a girl's toenail, but I'll keep that one under my hat and use it on Rachel. Good night, reader-people!

PHL 000 010 200 - 3 8 2
BOS 001 300 00x - 4 9 1

Other National League games today:

ROBINS 9-13-0, at GIANTS 4-10-1
It's Bill Doak's turn to make the Giants' lineup look like minor leaguers. After they score three runs off him in the last of thr 1st they get hypnotized the rest of the game and never put two hits together. Meantime Bentley gives Brooklyn five runs in the 2nd, finished by a 3-run Bernie Neis homer, and the Robins add on the scoring from there and jump over New York in the standings again.

REDS 10-18-1, at CUBS 5-7-1
Vic Keen is a mystery. The Cubs pitcher has a ton of talent but seems to get destroyed almost every time he pitches. Cincy does it today with four doubles, a triple and homers from Bressler and Roush. Carl Mays recovers from Gabby and Grimes homers to get his ninth win.

PIRATES 7-9-3, at CARDINALS 5-14-2
Buc manager Bill McKechnie could shuffle his starting lineup players like a deck of cards, have his batters hold their bats upside down and still beat anybody. Shortstop Glenn Wright has made about ten errors in less than a week (three more here) and Pittsburgh has still won every game. Kremer is completely horrible, giving the Cards 14 hits, but St. Loo strands 13 runners and help extend the Pirate win streak to seven.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Tuesday, July 1
Pittsburgh Pirates4922.690
Cincinnati Reds4530.6006
Brooklyn Robins4132.5629
New York Giants4032.5569.5
St. Louis Cardinals3735.51412.5
Chicago Cubs3140.43718
Philadelphia Phillies2946.38722
Boston Braves1954.26031




By Calvin J. Butterworth
Detroit Free-Enterprise

June 30, 1924

No one in our club house or the city of Detroit has shown a shred of eagerness to have Chicago on our doorstep. The White Stockings have been thorns in our ankles since the season commenced, and the last thing we needed after rough visits to St. Louis and Clvelenad was another pounding from Messers. Collins, Falk, Hooper, & Sons.

Rip Collins was thankfully twirling for us, with Ted Lyons taking the Chicago ball from the rotation-banished Blankenship. A Rigney walk and Lu Blue double gave Detroit an initial tally in the 1st, and then a bona fide miracle happened in the 2nd. Lyons threw a curve to Del Pratt that hooked too sweetly over the plate, Del swung mightily and the ball whistled high and far out to left. Bibb Falk raced to meet it but the fence intervened, and the ball dropped five feet over the top for an actual home run! It was the first Tiger circuit clout in five weeks, and the fans reacted as though they had struck gold.

Even better was that Rip Collins was dishing out a delicious game, throwing double play grounders whenever the Chicagoans gathered in abundance on the paths. Still, Detroit failed repeatedly to add more runs against the lion-hearted Lyons, and it was still 2-0 into the 8th when Collins singled, robbed second base in front of our Manager, and scored on a two-out Hooper single. Kamm walked to start the Sox 9th, and when light-hitting Bill Barrett tripled between Manush and our Manager, the tieing run scampered home.

We slogged into extra frames, and to be honest Chicago were the ones wearing the dunce caps. They loaded the sacks in the 10th but Dauss came on to retire Sheely and Kamm on rollers. Barrett began the 11th with a single but was erased on a double play. The Sox then loaded the bases in the 12th and Earl Sheely, one of the most reliable strikers in the league, rapped into another twin killing.

A rare Eddie Collins error put men on first and second in the Tiger 12th, and up came Bassler, already with two singles in the contest. He instantly ripped a third one, Blue skipped over the dish, and we had somehow beaten our evil foes. Lost in the thrilling win was news that Detroit finished a half game better than Washington for the month (see compendium below), an amazing fact kernel considering how bad they have looked at times. We are also just three games to the rear of Chicago now, hope just spilling over us as we enter the hottest month of summer.

CHI 000 000 011 000 - 2 13 2
DET 110 000 000 001 - 3 12 1

Other American League games today:

At ATHLETICS 14-13-2, YANKEES 0-6-0
In New York, hope has been dropped outside with the empty morning milk bottles. It has been flushed into the East River. It is has been tied to a pigeon's foot and sent flying south for the winter. Gunning for a nearly unprecedented third straight win, the Yanks march into Shibe Park to face a team that has lost nine games in a row, a last-place outfit without Miller and Dykes, two of their best hitters—and proceed to get their soiled drawers tugged over their heads. Moments after the Bamboozler grounds into a rally-killing double play in a scoreless game in the 3rd, the Mackmen plate six runs off Joe Bush and roll the table from there. Simmons, Hale and Welch all bash homers while Sam Gray is inexplicably busy hoodwinking every Yankee in the lineup. If I were a beat reporter covering New York right now I would demand a transfer to the Lindale Pepperells of the Georgia State League, who can't be any more disgraceful than this.

at SENATORS 5-13-0, RED SOX 1-7-2
The Big Train is off his game again, but this time gets enough support to finish off the opposition. Manager Bucky harris doubles twice, one of them the game-decider in the 5th, and the Nats close in on their 50th victory.

at INDIANS 6-11-0, BROWNS 0-6-0
George Uhle throws a brilliant shutout, Speaker reaches base all four times, and Cleveland closes out June in fine style. There may not be a scintillating pennant chase at the top as of now, but the lower four teams are grappling every day like army ants.


19-10 Detroit, 18-10 Washington, 14-14 Chicago, 14-14 Cleveland
12-14, New York, 13-16 St. Louis, 12-15 Boston, 9-19 Philadelphia

Washington 25-13, Detroit 22-15, Chicago 20-14, Cleveland 19-20,
St. Louis 18-22, New York 17-21, Philadelphia 14-18, Boston 15-22

Washington 24-13, Chicago 23-16, New York 19-15, Detroit 19-19
Boston 16-20, St. Louis 15-19, Philadelphia 17-25, Cleveland 12-23

Detroit 18-6, Washington 12-7, Chicago 13-10, Boston 13-12
Philadelphia 9-10, St. Louis 8-9, New York 8-11, Cleveland 5-21

Washington 5-2, Detroit 6-3, Chicago 5-5, Philadelphia 2-2
Boston 2-2, St. Louis 2-3, New York 1-3, Cleveland 2-5

Washington 20/9, Chicago 21/17, New York 20/18, Detroit 18/17
Philadelphia 14/15, St. Louis 18/21, Cleveland 16/20, Boston 13/23

St. Louis .319, Cleveland .311, Detroit .309, Chicago .304
Washington .290, New York .289, Boston .280, Philadelphia .279

Cleveland 464, Detroit 445, Chicago 443, Washington 418
New York 415, St. Louis 390, Philadelphia 383, Boston 341

Washington 48, Detroit 41,St. Louis 40, Philadelphia 35
Boston 35, Cleveland 34, New York 32, Chicago 29

New York 39, St. Louis 33, Philadelphia 31, Chicago 28
Cleveland 23, Washington 17, Boston 15, Detroit 11

New York 68, Philadelphia 72, St. Louis 82, Cleveland 83
Washington 84, Detroit 85, Chicago 85, Boston 88

Philadelphia 568, New York 603, Chicago 630, Washington 643
St. Louis 646, Boston 668, Cleveland 706, Detroit 709

Washington 3.84, New York 4.95, Philadelphia 4.90, Chicago 5.12
Detroit 5.17, St. Louis 5.18, Boston 5.25, Cleveland 5.33

Cleveland 72, New York 72, Boston 79, Detroit 80
Chicago 91, Washington 91, Philadelphia 97, St. Louis 98

Philadelphia 93, Washington 88, Detroit 81, Cleveland 80,
Chicago 77, New York 76, Boston 75, St. Louis 68

Boston 14, Detroit 20, Philadelphia 21, Washington 22
Chicago 27, St. Louis 27, Cleveland 31, New York 36

.378 Jamieson, CLE
.378 Cobb, DET
.371 Falk, CHW
.364 Heilman, DET
.353 McManus, STL
.349 Speaker, CLE
.346 Myatt, CLE
.342 Boone, BOS
.342 Ruth, NYY
.336 Collins CHI

18 Ruth, NYY
12 Hauser, PHA
12 Goslin, WASH

87 Goslin, WASH
66 Heilman, DET
63 Meusel, NYY
60 Falk, CHI
59 Myatt, CLE
59 Lamar, PHA
58 Manush, DET
56 Ruth, NYY

17 Goslin, WASH
10 Heilman, DET
8 Harris, WASH
7 Falk, CHI

11-2 Collins, DET
11-6 Johnson, WASH
10-3 Zachary, WASH
10-4 Faber, CHW

2.75 Johnson, WASH
2.76 Ogden, WASH
3.26 Collins DET
3.27 Faber, CHW
3.42 Wingard, SLB

6 Dauss, DET
6 Meeker, PHA
5 Ross, BOS
5 McWeeny, CHI
5 Cole, DET

AMERICAN LEAGUE through Monday, June 30
Washington Senators 4926.653
Chicago White Sox 4330.5895
Detroit Tigers 4134.5478
New York Yankees 3636.50011.5
St. Louis Browns 3341.44615.5
Boston Red Sox 3142.42517
Cleveland Indians 3143.41917.5
Philadelphia Athletics 3143.41917.5



June 30, 1924

The first part of heaven turned out to be the train ride up to Boston. It was the first time I got to ride in a fancy coach car with business men and normal people, and it felt great to actually stretch my legs instead of having to fold them up inside a luggage crate or something.

I sat next to a mother and her little boy, who wore a sailor suit and nibbled a giant lollipop for at least two hours. When the mom asked me why I was traveling alone I told her about the Phillie batboy job and her kid's eyes just about popped out. It was still hard for me to believe I was actually going to do this for money, even though it wasn't too much, but seeing the way the kid reacted made me feel even more special about it.

I dozed off for a while, and when I woke up it was almost dark and the mother and kid had already gotten off in New York. I could see pieces of Long Island Sound go by off to the right as we went up through Connecticut, and then darkness rolled over and the coach car's lamps came on. I figured I should probably get as much sleep as possible, but it was tough because the train kept stopping with its loud screeches, first in New Haven, then in Hartford and Springfield before turning east. I was also too excited to even think about sleep.

An old man with baggy eyes and suspenders met me in Boston when I got off the train after midnight. It was Grover, the Phillies' clubhouse man who was retiring, and this guy didn't stop blabbing at me on our entire walk over to the team's hotel. He ran through about ten different things I was supposed to do every day in the clubhouse, but after the floor-sweeping and shoe-shining I started forgetting most of them. He said no big deal because I could learn on the job the way he did twenty years ago.

The hotel was on a street called Tremont, and even though my room was about as big as a stowaway's closet on an ocean liner, I didn't care. The Phillies were sleeping or playing cards in rooms nearby, and I faded off hearing a few of them curse.

Braves Field had a pretty good crowd in the streets by the time I got there around eleven this morning. It was a double-header, which always draws more, and the Boston fans knew their team had a fighting chance against the likes of us. Grover let me into the visitor clubhouse when I knocked, and I met manager Art Fletcher right away. He was a former player but didn't seem braggy like a lot of them, and I couldn't bring myself to tell him how many times I'd yelled at him from the stands. He walked me past the lockers, where a few of the players were getting dressed, and I recognized Mokan and Wrightstone, who were busy sharing a joke and didn't even turn to say hello. My hero Cy Williams was over in a corner, rubbing ointment on a leg bruise, and I nervously went up and introduced myself. "Well hi there," he said, and felt both of my hands with his beefy ones. "Okay, kid. They're warm. don't want no cold hands touching my lumber all day."

Grover showed me how to polish each player's glove with neat's-foot oil and hang each uniform in the right locker, and then it was bat duty in the dugout. Most of the players had their initials painted or carved into the wood, and I had to stick them in the bat rack in order of where they were hitting in the lineup for the first game. It was taking me forever, and I kept looking over into the Braves dugout, where THEIR batboy was doing the same thing a mile a minute.

By the time I finally got all the bats in the right slots, the players came out and started grabbing them anyway to practice their hitting. George Harper asked if I was there to bring the team some luck, and then Heinie Sand asked pretty much the same thing, and all I could do was nod because the last thing I wanted was to get tossed out of the dugout.

Then the game started, and tossing sure seemed possible. Oescheger was terrible for us and the Braves had a 4-0 lead after four innings. We finally scored a first run off Benton in the 5th, but I missed how we did it because I was too busy moving the bats around. One of the things I never realized about batboys is that it's always more fun when the other team is up.

Harper broke his bat in the 7th with Ford out at second, and he waved at me to fetch him another. For some dumb reason I couldn't find the right lumber, brought him one of Wilson's bats instead and he just about tore my head off. Fletcher finally fished out the right one for me and I got it out to Harper. He stepped in, Benton threw, and George whacked the next pitch high and far into the right field "jury box". George gave me a big wink when he ran by me, Fletcher said he owed me a cigar, and I never felt so good.

Unfortunately, Skinny Graham put us away the last two innings and we lost by one run. Between the games I dug dirt out of everyone's cleats, swept the whole locker room floor, and got back out to set up the bats in the nick of time. Hucks Betts threw for us against Al Yeargin, and we were behind again by the 5th, 2-1. "Lose one of MY bats this time," yelled Walter Holke at me, while Harper just stared.

Fletcher talked me into faking that I couldn't find Harper's bat when he came up in the 7th with Sand on first, but I was a bad actor, and Harper came over to rip his bat away from me. And then he did it again, ripped a Yeargin ball way over the right fence, and we had a 3-2 lead! We scored another in the 8th, Betts and Glazner held down the Braves, and I had two cigars coming to me.

The players went to the fancy hotel restaurant for dinner, while me and Grover ended up at a hamburger joint down the block, but I didn't care. I needed to relax after that opening ordeal, and the taste of cheese-covered greasy meat took me back to Philadelphia for a half hour or so, and that did the trick.

Good night, reader-people!

PHL 000 010 200 - 3 8 2
BOS 001 300 00x - 4 9 1

PHL 000 010 210 - 4 11 1
BOS 000 020 000 - 2 7 1

Other National League games today:

ROBINS 10-13-1, at GIANTS 5-10-1
Burleigh Grimes goes the whole way, Fournier clubs homers no. 19 and 20 the second a grand slammer, and the Giants fall apart yet again. Kelly and Wilson go 1-for-10 in the middle of the lineup, which will kill you for certain every time.

at REDS 4-8-0, CUBS 3-7-3
Aldridge and Bush pitch a fabulous 4-hit shutout, except for the first inning, when two Cub errors, two singles, and a triple by Ivy Wingo give Cincy four runs and everything they need.

PIRATES 3-8-0, at CARDINALS 2-8-1
The Cards score two in the first, get their third run cut down at home plate when Carey nails Bottomley, and Morrison shuts them down the rest of the way until a timely Carey homer off Dickerman wins it in the 5th. Pittsburgh just does whatever they need to do to win a game—their sixth in a row.

It being the end of June, I was able to get special statistical stuff from a kid running papers in the Boston press row. Enjoy it!


19-9 Pittsburgh, 18-10 Cincinnati, 18-11 Brooklyn, 13-12 St. Louis,
14-13 New York, 11-13 Chicago, 10-19 Philadelphia, 6-22 Boston

Pittsburgh 24-9, Brooklyn 26-13, New York 21-15, Cincinnati 22-16,
St. Louis 16-19, Chicago 17-21, Boston 10-23, Philadelphia 11-25

Pittsburgh 24-13, Cincinnati 22-14, St. Louis 21-15, New York 19-16,
Philadelphia 18-20, Chicago 14-18, Brooklyn 14-19, Boston 8-31

Pittsburgh 13-8, St. Louis 14-10, New York 10-9, Brooklyn 12-11,
Cincinnati 13-12, Boston 9-11, Chicago 8-11, Philadelphia 8-15

Pittsburgh 7-2, Boston 5-2, St. Louis 7-6, Cincinnati 6-6,
Philadelphia 5-6, New York 3-4, Chicago 2-6, Brooklyn 2-6

New York 21/11, Pittsburgh 24/15, St. Louis 23/19, Cincinnati 23/19
Brooklyn 19/18, Philadelphia 15/19, Chicago 14/21, Boston 7/23

St. Louis .299, Cincinnati .298, Pittsburgh .294, Brooklyn .298
Chicago .286, New York .283, Philadelphia .269, Boston .259

St. Louis 425, Pittsburgh 413, Brooklyn 406, New York 385,
Chicago 401, Cincinnati 369, Philadelphia 357, Boston 264

Cincinnati 68, Pittsburgh 64, Chicago 54, New York 49,
St. Louis 38, Brooklyn 31, Philadelphia 30, Boston 19

Philadelphia 56, Brooklyn 49, Chicago 46, New York 34
Pittsburgh 28, St. Louis 27, Cincinnati 24, Boston 8

Pittsburgh 59, New York 66, Chicago 69, Cincinnati 74,
St. Louis 78, Philadelphia 81, Brooklyn 83, Boston 101

Pittsburgh 567, Philadelphia 585, New York 588, Boston 591,
Brooklyn 599, Chicago 609, St. Louis 618, Cincinnati 657

Cincinnati 2.94, Pittsburgh 3.36, Brooklyn 3.88, New York 4.27
Chicago 5.15, St. Louis 5.12, Philadelphia 5.48, Boston 5.69

Philadelphia 64, Pittsburgh 76, New York 81, Boston 82
Brooklyn 90, St. Louis 90, Chicago 96, Cincinnati 97

Pittsburgh 92, Brooklyn 86, Cincinnati 86, Philadelphia 77
St. Louis 77, New York 74, Chicago 65, Boston 54

Cincinnati 20, Pittsburgh 21, Brooklyn 33, Philadelphia 37
Boston 39, New York 40, St. Louis 43, Chicago 45

.420 Hornsby, STL
.392 Youngs, NYG
.383 Wheat, BRK
.369 Fournier, BRK
.363 Grantham CHC
.353 Brown, BRK
.350 Grimes, CHC
.343 Bressler, CIN
.342 Cuyler, PIT
.330 Blades, STL

20 Fournier, BRK
13 Wheat, BRK
14 Hartnett, CHC
12 Williams, PHL
10 Hornsby, STL
10 Harper, PHL

79 Fournier, BRK
78 Hornsby, STL
65 Wheat, BRK
65 Cuyler, PIT
58 Hartnett, CHC

10 Cuyler, PIT
10 Fournier, BRK
9 Wilson, NYG
8 Bottomley, STL
8 Roush, CIN
7 Grantham, CHC

11-5 Grimes, BRK
10-4 Vance, BRK
10-4 Rixey, CIN
9-3 Cooper, PIT
9-5 Kremer, PIT
8-2 Morrison, PIT
8-3 Yde, PIT

2.17 Rixey, CIN
2.22 Mays, CIN
2.61 Morrison, PIT
2.74 Vance, BRK

7 Dibut, CIN
7 Jonnard, NYG
6 Adams, PIT
6 Fowler, STL

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Monday, June 30
Pittsburgh Pirates4822.686
Cincinnati Reds4430.5956
New York Giants4031.5638.5
Brooklyn Robins4032.5569
St. Louis Cardinals3734.52111.5
Chicago Cubs3139.44317
Philadelphia Phillies2945.39221
Boston Braves1854.25031




By Calvin J. Butterworth
Detroit Free-Enterprise

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Following Manager Ty Cobb's rude entry and near-assault on my person following yesterday's game, the Detroit manager has hereby been banished from all press affairs, and extra security men have been assigned to this reporter and any others he chooses in his daft mind to harass. No tears will be shed on this stool, for I would just as soon interview a clubhouse boy than the likes of him again.

June 29, 1924

CLEVELAND—After two consecutive run-depleted performances, the Tigers were eager to leave their skirmish with Lake Erie's finest on a victorious note. Harry Heilman dutifully helped, cracking a 1st inning double to plate his Manager, and leading the Detroit 4th with a blustery triple and scoring on a Woodall double off Coveleski.

Speaker knocked in the first Indian tally with a double in the 5th, but a Lu Blue double in the Tiger 7th brought home two more for a seemingly insurmountable 4-1 lead. Yet Holloway was hurling for us, not Collins or Whitehill, and after fanning McNulty to begin the Tribe 9th, Jamieson lined a single. As did Brower. After Speaker drew a pass, the always unbalanced Bert Cole was summoned by the Manager to face portsider Glenn Myatt.

Luke Sewell pinch-hit, though, dribbled a single past Rigney, and the score was 4-2, still with only one retired. Then his brother Joe walked, and it was 4-3, still with only one retired. All looked lost. The infield inched up to the inner grass. Elmer Yoter stepped to the dish, having replaced the injured Riggs Stephenson, and snapped off a line drive that exploded at Rigney's feet. He scooped the sphere, fired it home for one out, Woodall whipped it to Blue at first for another, and the Tigers had won on a miracle double-play!

The Manager who I refuse to name had another in a recent series of bad showings, with four weak infield grounders before a lone uneventful single in the 9th, but as the club returns home to take on the tough second-place Chicago team, one would hope he has found a cheerful little closet in his heart.

DET 100 100 200 - 4 10 0
CLE 000 010 002 - 3 12 1

Other American League games today:

RED SOX 6-13-2, at SENATORS 4-9-0
After a key Peckinpaugh single in the 8th puts the Nats ahead 4-3, Firpo Marberry ruins the day again in the final frame. A single and pinch Veach double bring on Russell, who allows a sacrifice pop for one run, singles to Flagstead, Harris and Boone for two more, and Boston shocks the top-spotters to give the usually ill-fated Oscar Fuhr the win.

BROWNS 6-10-0, at WHITE SOX 3-9-1
If Chicago fails to catch Washington, it may be due to their inexplicable inability to beat the Browns. Even without their slugger Williams, they peck away at Robertson for seven innings, then at McWeeny for the last two, as Bill Bayne saves the contest for Urban Shocker and keeps the Sox from gaining ground in the race.

The Yankees and Athletics were busy traveling to Shibe Park, where New York will look for their third straight win versus a last-place club tomorrow that has lost nine in a row.

AMERICAN LEAGUE through Sunday, June 29
Washington Senators 4826.649
Chicago White Sox 4329.5974
Detroit Tigers 4034.5418
New York Yankees 3635.50710.5
St. Louis Browns 3340.45214.5
Boston Red Sox 3141.43116
Cleveland Indians 3043.41117.5
Philadelphia Athletics 3043.41117.5



RECENTLY, IN THE NATIONAL LEAGUE: Vinny proposes to Rachel in the grandstand tunnel, then gets arrested for keeping a foul ball...Bucs complete four-game murder of the Cubs, may never lose again...

June 29, 1924

Well, Mama wasn't at the jail cell this morning with my bail dough, but there were a few more drunks to keep me company. One of them had relieved himself in his pants and the place stunk something awful, and when a guard opened the door and waved me out I just about ran.

I figured Mama had paid the bail, but I was wrong because she wasn't even there. They walked me down a bunch of halls and into a small court room, where I got sat with about six other kids between 10 and 18 who looked more dirty, sleepless and sad than I did. I felt like Oliver Copperfield or one of those other Charles Dickens characters, getting ready to be sent to some big depressing workhouse.

One kid was sent to a juvenile home for robbing people on a streetcar, the next went back to jail because he stole a car and was actually 20 years old. Then I was called up and had to stand in front of this creepy-faced judge. The charges were resisting arrest and public disorderliness, and when they asked the room who paid the bail money and agreed to take custody of me, a tall man with glasses who I hadn't noticed stood up in the back row.

It was Mr. Tuggerheinz, principal of my school and my secret guardian after I caught him and his mistress at a ball game back in May. Well wasn't that a humdinger? He was actually at the game yesterday, saw me get arrested, and had already spoken to Mama about some kind of "proposition."

He walked me out of the police station and onto a streetcar but wouldn't tell me where we were going. "I trust you'll be satisfied," he kept saying with this goofy smile, and before long I could see we were heading back to Baker Bowl. The Phillies had gone up to Brooklyn to play the Sunday game, and it was strange seeing the streets around the park so empty. We got to the door of the Phillies' offices and I stopped in my tracks. "What the heck is this about?" I asked.

And then Tuggerheinz told me. One of his oldest friends was Thomas Crane, a very successful Philadelphia businessman who was also an old friend of Phillies owner William Baker. Anyway, it seems that the club had gotten some bad notices in the newspaper today for arresting a minor over a lousy ball, and when Tuggerheinz had talked to Crane about it, some kind of meeting was set up. The one I was walking into right then.

Crane was in the room, and so was Baker, a tough-looking former New York policeman. "Our security fellas might have been a little rough with you yesterday," he said, then walked over and held out his hand. "Still got that ball, Vinny?" I was in love with Rachel but figured it wasn't worth going through that jail business again, so I fished the thing out of my pants pocket and put it in his hand. Baker grinned and mussed my hair. "We've had this old clubhouse man named Grover who's about to retire, and thought with our next big road trip starting today it might be a good time to take on some younger blood." He looked at Crane, then at Tuggerheinz, whose little smile was suddenly big. And then he crouched in front of me.

"How'd you like to be the Phillies' bat boy?"

I almost fainted right in my chair. "Bat boy?" He said the Phillies had never had one because Grover was doing a good enough job and there was no need "spending the extra cash," but this was going to be a real long trip with the team not coming back until July 24th, and in the hot western towns he just thought having a kid instead of an old man was a safer idea. "If you do a good job, maybe you can stick," he said, and I was out of my chair and shaking his hand, followed by Crane's hand and Tuggerheinz's hand and if a secretary walked in right then I probably would've kissed her.

ME! The Phillie bat boy!!

I went straight home and hugged Mama, who already knew about it and was thrilled for me. Then I figured why the heck not? and told her I was getting married to Maria Stonetino whose real name was Rachel Stone and she was Jewish, not Italian. Mama was shocked for a second, then said "Well, that's almost the same thing," and we hugged all over again. I had to be up at Braves Field in Boston for a double-header tomorrow, so there wasn't much time to pack suitcases for my clothes and typewriter and eat something.

On the way to the train station I stopped at Mort's to catch the Phillies' ticker score up in Brooklyn and give Benny the big news. Mopsy was sitting on his lap and Benny was real excited because Jimmy Ring, of all people, had a 5-1 lead on Dazzy Vance in the 5th inning. He was blown over by both the Rachel and bat boy news, and didn't know whether to cry or be envious. More than anything, he said, he was going to miss me and I promised I'd write him once a week.

The Robins scored four runs to tie the game right as I was sitting there, but then Cy Williams clubbed his second homer of the game two innings later, Ring with his 1-10 record beat Vance with his 10-3 record, we celebrated the Phillies and toasted the events with double cherry fizzers, and I was off to the 30th Street Station to begin both of my new lives.

Good night, reader-people!

PHL 400 010 010 - 6 9 0
BRK 001 040 000 - 5 9 2

Other National League games today:

at GIANTS 3-5-1, BRAVES 0-9-1
Uh-oh, are the Giants getting warm again? It's hard to say when you beat the Braves, but Barnes and Jonnard sure look good in today's shutout.

PIRATES 5-13-0, at CARDINALS 3-8-1
St. Louis actually takes a 3-0 lead on the Juggernauts, but that holds up like a grass shack in a hurricane. Even with Earl Smith injured, the Bucs rack up two triples and four doubles off Haines and win easy for Wilbur Cooper.

at REDS 5-10-1, CUBS 3-9-1
Still shell-shocked from their visit to Forbes Field, Elmer Jacobs gives up three Cincy runs in the 5th, the last two on a Babe Pinelli triple, as Jakie May throws three shutout relief innings to win it for Donohue. Boy, if it wasn't for the scrappy Reds there'd probably be no race at all.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Sunday, June 29
Pittsburgh Pirates4722.681
Cincinnati Reds4330.5896
New York Giants4030.5717.5
Brooklyn Robins3932.5499
St. Louis Cardinals3733.52910.5
Chicago Cubs3138.44916
Philadelphia Phillies2844.38920.5
Boston Braves1753.24330.5




By Calvin J. Butterworth
Detroit Free-Enterprise

June 28, 1924

CLEVELAND—I am out of words. My "clack-clack," as Lord and Manager Tyrus coined it yesterday, is hereby striking for better pay and inspiration, for my Tigers have summarily disgraced themselves for a second consecutive afternoon on the League Park green, this time creating practically nothing with their limp sticks against the likes of Joseph Shaute, an apple-cheeked 24-year-old Pennsylvanian with ten wins to his credit before this campaign.

With the surprising Senators and startling White Sox turning in fiendishly effective performances day in and day out, one would think our third-place boys, particularly when hemled by a supposed "fiery" personality such as Lord and Manager Tyrus, would use a visit to a last-place city to flex their line drive might and chalk up some easy victories. One would be horribly mistaken.

Del Pratt actually managed to poke in the first run of the game with a single in the Detroit 2nd to give us our all-too-brief lead, as Fred Haney donned his butcher's apron soon after. With an Indian on first base and two outs, Rube Lutzke rolled a grounder out to third. Haney tried to nab it with his bare paw and whipped it two feet over Pratt's glove at first, putting men at second and third. Eager to redeem his sorry self, Haney then fielded a Shaute grounder and threw it so hard Pratt was forced to duck, as the ball rolled down the first base stripe for a sickening 2-1 Tribe advantage.

It gets more hideous. While the Tigers flailed pathetically at Shaute's nimble offerings the next four innings, Cleveland's Yoter began their 6th with a base knock off the luckless Ed Wells. Luke Sewell drew a free ticket, and Lutzke hustle-ran a bunt single to fill the sacks. Shaute then singled for one run, and after a force play caused the first out, George Burns walked, and we were in the rears 4-1.

Fatty Fothergill pinch-batted a single to begin the 8th, but after Cobb finally accomplished something with a single, Rigney bounced daintily into a double-play, and

Wait. There is a disturbance behind me in the press row. Someone is pushing his way into


By Ty Cobb
Detroit Tigers Star and Manager

Hey folks, good old Cal said I should try doing HIS job for a change and see if I liked it, so here I am whether he was ready for me or not. Butterface sort of told you what happened already in this one, so I won't waste anybody's time repeating him, but let me just add that the two runs the Scalp-takers got in the last of the 8th were just as lucky as the other four they got before. Sure, I put Lil' Stoner in the game because I was fed up being behind again, but his glove was right close to catching all three of those singles that whizzed by his face, and I'm sure none of you people have any idea how dangerous it is standing out there on that mound with horsehide-smashers like Speaker and Ruth and Collins digging in against you four or five times a game. Why do you think I picked center field?

Yeah, big damn deal so we lost again today. We'll be back out there tomorrow right as rain, and those smelly White Stockings better watch out too because we'll be back in our neighborhood to beat the pants off them next. And sorry old Cal, but we don't need no boring fence poppers to do it, neither.

That's all for now! Oh quit cryin' and get the hell up Butterworth, you sissy-assed—

DET 010 000 010 - 2 8 2
CLE 020 002 02x - 6 12 0

Other American League games today:

at SENATORS 7-11-3, ATHLETICS 4-13-3
The sun comes up and Washington beats Philadelphia again. This time the A's score four times in the 1st with the help of a huge Prothro error, and the Nats chip away the whole rest of the game, aided by three equally heinous Athletics errors to beat Rommel. Tom Zachary improves to 10-3, squirreling out of trouble as he blanks the enemy from the 2nd to the 9th.

at WHITE SOX 6-8-3, BROWNS 5-13-3
Chicago pays back the Browns for some of their recent late-inning tomfoolery against them, plating three runs in the 6th to tie the game off Dixie Davis with the help of dreadful gaffes by Robertson at third and Tobin in right. In the last of the 9th, the Sox do what they do constantly: get key hits at key moments. Collins walks, Mostil bunts him to second, Falk grounds him to third and Hooper doubles him homeward.

YANKEES 7-10-1, at RED SOX 6-10-4
Do my eyes deceive me? Did the New Yorkers actually win two baseball games in succession? They almost failed to. Trailing 6-2 in the 8th to Curt Fullerton, they score five times with the assistance of two straight egregious flubs by Chappie Geygan, on a day filled with such brain vacuums, before Beall and Gaston save Pennock's hide with two innings of shutout relief work. Shano Collins, for what it is worth, collects two triples, a double and two singles in the losing effort.

AMERICAN LEAGUE through Saturday, June 28
Washington Senators 4825.658
Chicago White Sox 4328.6064
Detroit Tigers 3934.5349
New York Yankees 3635.50711
St. Louis Browns 3240.44415.5
Boston Red Sox 3041.42317
Cleveland Indians 3042.41717.5
Philadelphia Athletics 3043.41118



RECENTLY, IN THE NATIONAL LEAGUE: Vinny and Rachel make up, even though the Phillies beat the Robins in 15 innings...Bucs torture Cubs again with four-run 9th inning comeback and 14-inning win...

June 28, 1924

What a wonderful world, I thought, as I squeezed my fresh orange into a glass this morning. Rachel blew me kisses at the table every time Mama turned her back, and made sure to knock her knee against mine the rest of the time.

Our mission today was a Saturday double-header in 85-degree heat, but Rachel could only go for the first game because she had a 4:30 train to catch back to New York. I asked why she couldn't just board a later one, and then realized it was because she already had a coach ticket, instead of riding in the luggage car like I always did.

The ball park was packed to the gills, and luckily Benny met us out front with grandstand tickets he'd bought early in the morning. He said he had a mystery lady friend meeting him there, and wanted to make sure she had shade. Benny noticed me and Rachel were holding hands, completely unembarrassed, and poked me for fun in the ribs four times in the next hour.

Anyway, the love pact I made with Rachel yesterday lasted less than one inning. That's because Hal Carlson gave up two quick singles, a Fournier double, Brown single, and 3-run Zack Taylor homer for five Brooklyn runs. How could I be happy about this, no matter how stuck I was on Rachel? She was very nice about it and was afraid to cheer at all, but then I got her right back. Tiny Osborne walked Sand, Harper and Holke to begin the Phillies 1st, Cy and Wrightstone creamed back-to-back triples, and we had four runs before one out was made. All we could do was laugh.

But the chuckles stopped in the top of the 2nd, when after a single and walk, Carlson gave up two doubles and four straight singles and the score was 11-4 Robins. Rachel threw up her hands over and over the deeper I sunk in my seat, but guess what? It was one of those loony days.

Three singles, two walks and another Wrightstone triple made it 11-8—after two innings. "Can you believe this daffiness?" I yelled, and Rachel just shook her head. After a Neis triple and Brown double in the 3rd it was 12-8, and then things calmed down for a while. Benny was all hoarse from screaming, but found his voice again when a young red-haired girl in glasses arrived and gave him a big squeeze. It was Mopsy, the jabbering little tomato I met on Ladies' Day whose number I gave him later out of pity. "I didn't miss anything, I hope!" she said, and the laughing began again.

So did the scoring, but this time all for the home side. Holke began the last of the 6th with a single. Williams singled. Wrightstone singled. Wilson walked. Mokan doubled in two and the score was suddenly 12-11. Dutch Henry came on, not to be confused with the crummy Dutch Ruether who pitched for them yesterday. And we made a dutch pie out of this guy. Ford, Carlson and Sand all singled, making that eight in a row reaching base to start the inning. After Harper hit a long sacrifice fly we had seven runs on the board, a 15-12 lead, and Rachel was standing up to leave. "I'd rather read a book at the train station then watch any more of this nonsense!" she said. Don't go, I told her, "Carlson is rotten today and you're gonna come right back. Your team needs you."

After Benny and Mopsy made her feel even more guilty, she gave in, just in time to see three Brooklyn singles and a double tie the score 15-15 in the top of the 8th! Harper doubled in our 16th run after that, and Benny did a little jig in the aisle to keep Rachel entertained and not crazy.

Huck Betts was in for the top of the 9th, and Zack Wheat opened with a single. Fournier bounced a ball in front of the plate but Wilson kicked it for an error. Brown then hit into a fast double play, Rachel groaned in agony and I had to throw my arm around her waist to keep her in the seat. "Look, Rachel, you got a man on third." She said she couldn't look, so I did for her. Zack Taylor whacked the ball hard to right. She looked up, saw the ball sail out to George Harper, who parked himself underneath it, lost the thing for a second and had it bounce off the top of his mitt for a 2-base error and tie game! Rachel screamed with delight and hugged me, but I was too shocked to feel anything. Benny turned, walked away from us and down toward a restroom, probably to upchuck.

Johnston singled to begin the Brooklyn 10th, but Betts got the next three men. Mokan started our inning with a walk, and with one out, Betts bunted him along to second. Up came Heinie Sand, without one game-winning hit the entire season, but Art Decatur threw him a curve that didn't curve enough and Sand shot it right into the left-field corner for the Phillie win!! I jumped out of my seat, whooping and yelling because it's my instinct but forgot all about Rachel. She was slumped in her chair, hat yanked off and sobbing into her hands.

"You don't care about me at all," she cried, "Your team stinks and you heart's even worse!" She stuffed her hat back on, got up and excused herself past us. I looked at Benny in surprise, then ran after her. Turned her around when she was halfway down the grandstand tunnel, grabbed her hand and dropped on one knee. My feelings from the last two months had gotten to the edge of the cliff and the words just fell right off.

"Rachel? Would you...wanna marry me?"

Her mouth opened wide and stayed that way for what seemed forever, even after her tears froze on her face and fans walked by us on both sides to stock up on food and drink for the second game. Finally she pulled me out of the way of everyone, took my hands and put them around her thin waist and whispered "If you can really stand being with a Brooklyn fan...sure!" I couldn't even talk for a second, then bloarted out "How soon?" and she shrugged her cute shoulders and said "I don't know. First you have to ask my father, don't you??" I said I had forgot about that and she took my hand and said "Don't worry, my love," so I held my cap up for a little bit of privacy and kissed her for a good thirty seconds. It was heaven in a ball park, which is kind of a redundancy thing, but it sure made the sight of her disappearing down the tunnel easier to take.

I was in a romantic fog for most of the second game, and after the Phils took a 2-1 in the 4th with the awful Glazner on our hill I hardly noticed. I didn't tell Benny I had proposed yet because I just wanted to swim in the idea by myself for a while. Heck, the Phils even had a chance of beating the Robins twice in one day! How much more good luck could I have?

As it turned out, not much at all. Glazner gave up the lead in the 6th with a single, walk and double, and after a 2-run single off Steineder by Taylor put Brooklyn up 4-2, I was annoyed all over again. Ivy Olson lined a foul ball back off the grandstand roof, and it bounced straight down into our aisle. I snatched the thing, stuck it in my pocket and said to Benny, "I'm saving this one for Rachel."

But as I think I've mentioned, foul balls are supposed to be thrown back on the field to save the home clubs money. I was feeling like a pretty big cheese today, though, and when a cop came up the aisle and asked for the ball I just stood there and shook my head. "Vinny? You better fork it over," said Benny, but I said nope, not today. The cop tried to reach in my pocket and I pushed him away and said "Get lost!" He whistled for two of his cop buddies, and before you knew it I was getting dragged right down the aisle and down the exit tunnel with the crowd cheering me the whole time.

"My girlfriend said she'd marry me!" I kept yelling, "and she's getting this ball!" They just laughed and said the hell she is and next thing I know I'm carted out to a paddy wagon, thrown inside and driven right to the local police station for making a public disturbance.

So I had to scribble out this report on a piece of paper the jail guy gave me through the bars. They're just a couple old drunks in here with me, thank God, but who knows who else will show up before the morning? Mama was here an hour ago but didn't have enough bail money and went off to find more from her cousins. At least she managed to bring me the other ball scores from Mort's.

And I didn't tell her about Rachel either. But the good thing was that there was a dirty foul ball still in my pocket.

Good night, reader-people!

BRK 561 000 031 0 - 16 24 0
PHL 440 007 010 1 - 17 17 2

BRK 100 003 001 - 5 10 0
PHL 001 100 000 - 2 8 1

Other National League games today:

at PIRATES 7-11-2, CUBS 1-5-2
No four-run comeback today, just a good old shellacking. Lee Meadows loses his shutout on a cheap Grantham homer with two outs in the 9th, but the Bucs have won five in a row.

at GIANTS 5-6-2, BRAVES 1-6-0
McQuillan pitches great for a change, Gowdy hits a grand slam homer and Hack Wilson also hits one out as the Giants squeeze in front of Brooklyn again.

REDS 6-12-0, at ST. LOUIS 0-6-1
Would that be Eppa Rixey, throwing another shutout? Yup. Six scattered singles give him his 10th win and keep Cincy six out.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Saturday, June 28
Pittsburgh Pirates4622.676
Cincinnati Reds4230.5836
New York Giants3930.5657.5
Brooklyn Robins3931.5578
St. Louis Cardinals3732.5369.5
Chicago Cubs3137.45615
Philadelphia Phillies2744.38020.5
Boston Braves1752.24629.5




By Calvin J. Butterworth
Detroit Free-Enterprise

June 27, 1924

CLEVELAND—Is this where the Tigers have chosen to give the race away to the Senators and White Sox? A grey, half-filled League Park? After finishing off the Browns the last two days, they ran into a human bat grinder named Sherrod "Sherry" Smith, star portsider for the Indians, and it was not attractive.

Seven of the ten Detroit safeties came from the 4-through-7 spots in the order, and leadoff man Heilman in the 6th was the only one to cross the dish. He scored following a Manush single and deep Woodall fly, which actually broke a scoreless tie between Smith and Earl Whitehill. But George Burns began the Cleveland 6th with a sharp double, Joe Sewell walked, and after Speaker advanced them both with a grounder, Homer Summa ripped a single between Cobb and Heilman for a 2-1 Tribe lead.

The way these two clubs can put runners aboard, no one imagined the small outburst would be enough to decide the fate of the contest. But the Tigers had other ideas, shameful ones at that. Haney singled to start the 8th and Heilman bounced into a twin killing. After Luke Sewell knocked in the third Cleveland run with a single in their 8th, Woodall reached second to begin the 9th when Burns threw away his grounder for a single and error. O'Rourke and Pratt proceeded to do nothing, but pinch-hitter Wingo reached on another error by Joe Sewell.

It was up to Cobb, who has been facing more and more abuse lately for selling his punchless style of hitting to his players. He was 1-for-4 on the day, a weak single in the 5th, and this time grounded limply to Burns at the first base bag to abandon both runners and complete the frustrating loss.

I tried to approach him afterwards with a small gaggle of press members, but he yelled "Go back to your goddamn clack-clacks!" and slammed his office door in our faces. Perhaps His Cobbness should curb his ribald profanity, hang up his murderous cleats for a day and try his luck at the keyboard, so he could see how punishing it is to write daily glowing prose about this club.

DET 000 001 000 - 1 10 1
CLE 000 002 01x - 3 9 2

Other American League games today:

YANKEES 6-10-1, at RED SOX 2-10-1
The game is knotted at 2-2 in the 8th when an absolute miracle occurs. Babe Ruth picks out an Alex Ferguson fastball and hits it far into the right field Fenway bleachers for a 3-2 Yankee lead. The miracle is that after an error, two doubles and a single add three more runs and give the Yanks a four-run margin, the Bambino's clout turns out to be the game-winner, his third of the year. He is only fourteen away from Goose Goslin now.

BROWNS 6-11-2, at WHITE SOX 2-10-1
As long as we are discussing miracles, how about the Browns thumping Chicago again, on yet another George Sisler winner? The Sox threaten all day against Wingard, but Ernie escapes the hot coals in his bare feet, with Hub Pruett saving him when he gets Sheely on a line out with two Chicagoans aboard.

The Senators and Athletics take the day off, and Philadelphia is no doubt elated, seeing they are currently 2-13 against the first placers.

AMERICAN LEAGUE through Friday, June 27
Washington Senators 4725.653
Chicago White Sox 4228.6004
Detroit Tigers 3933.5428
New York Yankees 3535.50011
St. Louis Browns 3239.45114.5
Boston Red Sox 3040.42916
Philadelphia Athletics 3042.41717
Cleveland Indians 2942.40817.5



RECENTLY, IN THE NATIONAL LEAGUE: Rachel's Robins edge Vinny's Phils 13-12, and Vinny ain't talking...Bucs steamroll Cubs again after falling behind 4-0 again...Giants beat the Braves for a change...

June 27, 1924

Rachel was just a chipper little June bug in the morning, sitting with Mama and talking about shoes. I never quite got what girls find so interesting about feetwear, but get them started and you might as well go out for a walk yourself. Today I still needed one after losing yesterday's slugging party, but I had told myself lying on the downstairs couch that it was just over a dumb game, and that getting on good with Rachel was much more important.

So after breakfast I took her for a stroll along the Schuylkill River, where the trees were nice and shady. We sat for a while and watched some tugboat captains and Schuylkill Navy rowers sweat their way by us, and it was a nice way to mend things up before heading back to the ball park. I apologized for being such a bad sport yesterday and she said it was no big deal, and agreed with me that we should just enjoy the game together and not let the fact we're going for different teams bug us. What we actually did was hold hands and make a pact to make it through nine innings without once letting one thing on the field get us upset. We both knew that would be tough, but if we were going to stay close friends and especially any kind of romantic ones we had to learn how to do that every day.

Dutch Ruether was facing Bill Hubbell, two pitchers who can either be hot or cold, and Hubbell was the first cold one. Three singles, a walk and hit batter put Brooklyn up 2-0 in the 2nd, and I patted Rachel on the shoulder and said "Good for you!" when she managed to not jump out of her seat with a cheer.

Joe Schultz knocked in a Philly run with a single in the 5th, and in the last of the 7th, with two of our guys aboard, Sand grounded one out to Mitchell at short, but Johnny first kicked the ball, then whipped it over Fournier's head and into the seats for a tie game! Rachel's face turned purple and crinkled up like a bad plum but she kept a frozen smile and pretended everything was just fine.

But then the game ended some kind of zone that was almost like weird twilight. Ruether kept putting us on the bases but we kept hitting into double plays, while Hubbell turned into Houdini himself. Fournier and Wheat were getting aboard almost every time but the last five spots in the Robins' lineup couldn't buy a hit for a thousand dollars. The game went into the 10th, then the 11th, then the 12th, Rachel buying one lemonade after another from the vendor to keep from fainting, while I just kept nervous-munching on pretzels.

"Amazing game, isn't it?" I asked her when we went into the 13th. "Yeah, sure is," she said, afraid to look at me too. Wilson doubled in the 13th for us after Williams singled, but Cy got gunned out at home plate and we didn't score. Two Robins got on with singles in the top of the 14th but Fletcher walked Wheat on purpose and Griffith grounded out. Woehr pinch-ran for Parkinson at second in our 14th, but got thrown out at home two outs later. It was clear that me and Rachel were either going to not see each other again after this game or be together forever.

Steineder finally took over for Hubbell in the 15th inning and got Brooklyn 1-2-3. Then Holke walked to lead off our half. Wilson singled him to third with one out and up stepped Mokan. I peeked at Rachel and saw she had her eyes shut, the sick smile still stuck on her face. Mokan lined a single over a jumping Mitchell, Baker Bowl went loony, I yelped out a small huzza and threw my arms around Rachel. "I'm so sorry, beautiful", I said, words I didn't even know could come out of me. She turned with her eyes all wet, gave me a real three-second kiss and whispered, "Thanks Vinny..."

We held hands all the way to Reading Terminal for that ice cream we ditched yesterday, and we glanced at each other all through another Mama spaghetti dinner, and afterward I ripped some boards off an upstairs door so we could get up to my roof and sit on a wall to look at the city lights and a bunch of bright stars off to the west. We'd made it through another punishing game, and tomorrow there would be two, but for now there was just us, and sweet dreams all ready to go. Good night, reader-people!

BRK 020 000 000 000 000 - 2 13 3
PHL 000 010 100 000 001 - 3 16 0

Other National League games today:

at PIRATES 9-18-2, CUBS 8-18-4 (14 innings)
Make it THREE straight games the Cubs give up a four-run lead at Forbes Field. This time they're up 8-4 in the 9th with Aldridge pitching, and it still ain't enough. Grantham botches a grounder, Cuyler homers and it's 8-6. Gooch singles and Wheeler relieves. Wright doubles, Ens pinch-hits a single, and Grimes boots another one to tie the game. Unhittable Babe Adams takes over for a terrible Kremer, who gave Chicago 16 hits and still didn't lose, and the game drags into the 14th, when Butch Weis drops a fly, Carey and Moore walk and Cuyler proves again he's the best player in a pinch in the league with a deep single to win it.

at GIANTS 10-16-2, BRAVES 5-11-2
Mule Watson pitches the distance, and the bottom of the Giant lineup drives in six of the ten runs, with Hack Wilson throwing in a homer and double.

at CARDINALS 1-8-0, REDS 0-10-1
Johnny Stuart rises out of the St. Louis bullpen graveyard, takes the mound due to Alan Sothoron's injury, and pitches a solid 10-hit shutout. Hornsby's sacrifice fly in the 8th off the even tougher Carl Mays is the game's only run.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Friday, June 27
Pittsburgh Pirates4522.672
Cincinnati Reds4130.5776
Brooklyn Robins3830.5597.5
New York Giants3830.5597.5
St. Louis Cardinals3731.5448.5
Chicago Cubs3136.46314
Philadelphia Phillies2643.37720
Boston Braves1751.25028.5




By Calvin J. Butterworth
Detroit Free-Enterprise

June 26, 1924

ST. LOUIS—Where would the Tigers be without one Warren "Rip" Collins? On the heels of three days of sketchy work by their questionable mound artists, Detroit turned to their erstwhile pitching lord and was rewarded with another regal performance.

Our recent habit of launching 1st inning salvos was also in evidence. Rigney, Haney and Heilman all singled off Danforth after an initial Cobb roll-out, and after a Manush walk and single by Les Burke, the score was 3-0 Tigers. Ken Williams clouted a solo homer in the St. Louis 2nd, and the way our player's heads spun to watch the ball soar over the right field pavilion, it was as if they hadn't seen one of their own fly away in over a month—perhaps because they haven't.

Manush sliced a triple into the gap to begin the Detroit 5th, but after he was forced at home plate seconds later, Burke and Pratt singled to put the score at its final resting place, 4-1. From there it was simply Collins at his finest, keeping the Brownie hitters off balance all day and scattering five singles to run his season record to an extraordinary 11-2, best in either league.

It would be a marvelous thing for Collins to share his hitter knowledge and twirling tips with the other throwers on the staff, but one cannot teach donkeys to sing, and no two people are necessarily born with the same abilities. So because Cobb is unable to place Collins on the pitching slab without the customary three days of rest, the burden is on his mates to keep us afloat in the pennant chase.

We are noww off to Lake Erie, and a stay at League Park against the Indians, where Earl Whitehill faces Sherry Smith in tomorrow's opener.

DET 300 010 000 - 4 10 1
STL 010 000 000 - 1 6 0

at SENATORS 5-8-0, ATHLETICS 0-3-3
The Big Train hasn't had much luck of late, but George Mogridge is finding the shiny clovers in the field for him. Aided by Goose Goslin game-winner no. 17 on the year, a sacrifice fly in the 4th, "Mo" stifles the injured Elephants from start to finish, allowing three singles and a walk and nothing else.

at RED SOX 8-8-1, YANKEES 7-10-1
As dark a tragedy as ever staged by Shakespeare, the Yanks take a 7-0 lead into the 5th at Fenway, only to have Waite Hoyt impale himself on his sword. Boston scores four times in the 5th, four more times in the 7th, and takes the game in shocking fashion. Ruth, the proud owner of two game-winning hits all season, singles with no one on base his second time up, goes zero-for-four with men on base his other times up. Out, out, damned madness!

The White Sox and Indians enjoyed a day off, I gather.

AMERICAN LEAGUE through Thursday, June 26
Washington Senators 4725.653
Chicago White Sox 4227.6093.5
Detroit Tigers 3932.5497.5
New York Yankees 3435.49311.5
St. Louis Browns 3139.44315
Boston Red Sox 3039.43515.5
Philadelphia Athletics 3042.41717
Cleveland Indians 2842.40018



RECENTLY, IN THE NATIONAL LEAGUE: Stinky Braves beat us two out of three for no special reason...Robins sweep Giants with three 3-2 scores...Vinny gives Benny his Ladies Day memento...

June 26, 1924

This time it was Mama who shook me awake this morning. "There's a girl downstairs named Maria asking for you." I rolled over and said I didn't know any Maria and she said "The girl sure knows you. Maria Stonetino from Brooklyn?"

Oh lord. I tiptoed out, took one peek at the front room from the top of the stairs and saw Rachel standing there, all dolled up in a sun dress and yellow hat and carrying a little yellow sun umbrella. What the heck? I ran in the bathroom, washed up so fast I almost brushed my teeth with hair grease, threw on some clothes and hurried down to meet her.

Her face was full of color and she looked as sweet as a peach in her outfit and gave me this giant hug. Mama didn't know what to make of all this so I introduced "Maria" to her as "a friend I met up there I was meaning to tell you about." The second Mama went off to finish breakfast I asked Rachel what she was doing in Philadelphia and she looked at me like I was a big kook. "We got four games in three days here with you! Isn't it time I visited you for a change?" Honestly, the Phillies have been so busy losing lately I haven't been up on their schedule as much, but it was true. The Robins were at Baker Bowl today, tomorrow, and Saturday for a double-header, before the teams went back up to Ebbets for a Sunday game.

Mama called us into the kitchen for breakfast, which was when I noticed Rachel was talking with a fake Italian accent to go along with her fake Italian name. She even said her father worked down at the docks in New York hauling around vegetables. I was certainly thrilled to see her, but this masquerade stuff was ridiculous, and I told her so when we started off to the ball game. "Well, I wasn't sure your mother would like who I was," she said, "and me being Italian is a lot easier than you pretending to be Jewish." I asked where she was planning on staying and she said Mama had already promised her the downstairs couch, and that her little travel suitcase was in the hall closet. I couldn't believe any of this, but as the streetcar got close to Baker Bowl I started to think about the game, with Burleigh Grimes facing Johnny Couch, of all the strange things, and how fun it was going to be to give someone a tour of my daily field.

Benny met me outside as usual, tried to kiss Rachel's hand and missed, then asked if she had brought one of her girlfriends along. Realizing this was a solo journey for her, he gave me a little wink and said he'd see "you lovebirds" afterwards. I sprung for dollar grandstand seats, of course, and pointed out my favorite Baker items to her, like the dinky right field fence and the little hump in center field that went over the train tunnel. I bought her a sausage roll and lemonade, and promised her a dessert at Bassett's after the game.

The Phillies jogged on the field in their creamy white uniforms and red caps, the Brooklyn players in their drabbier grey colors, which delighted Rachel to no end because she had gotten tired of seeing her Robins in the same outfits every day, and she leaned over between sausage bites and gave me a wet cheek-kiss right before the first pitch with a "good luck" smile. Life was wonderful, even in seventh place.

And then Johnny Couch threw the ball, Bernie Neis singled, and we were off. One out later, Wheat singled, Fournier got hit by a pitch, shooting Rachel out of her seat with a "You can't do that!" with everyone laughing around us. Brown singled in two runs and it was 3-0 Brooklyn. A Holke triple and Harper single cut it to 3-1, easing my stomach a bit, but Couch was even worse in the 2nd inning, giving up two sharp singles, a loud double, and sacrifice fly for two more runs. Rachel could tell I was annoyed and held my hand with both of hers. It was warm out again but she didn't sweat like a normal person and her palm was actually dry and soft.

And then the Phillies went cuckoo on the old spitballer Grimes. Mokan singled, Hod Ford tripled. After two whiffs Holke singled, Harper tripled and Cy singled and we had tied the game 5-5! I hooted and jumped up and Rachel let go of my hand. "We got a war now!" I shouted to her trying to be funny but she hardly laughed. A Ford error helped give the Robins a 6-5 lead in the 3rd, but Holke got ahold of one in the 4th and belted a 2-run homer and we were up 7-6! But not long because Grimes singled and Neis homered with two gone in the 5th! When Holke drove in his fourth run with a scoring fly in the 6th it was 8-8 and the place was insane.

Rachel and me had pretty much stopped talking, as we took turns jumping out of our seats like yo-yos. Sometimes men play baseball and other times baseball plays the men, and this was one of those times. The game stayed tied until the 8th, when Rachel's heartthrob Fournier walloped his major league-leading 18th homer and she cheered so hard I almost went deaf. Then Brown doubled, scored when Wrightstone butchered a Zack Taylor single, and Steineder came in to put Couch to bed. And that stopped nothing. A single, three walks and two wild pitches with the same hitter up later, Brooklyn had a 12-8 lead and pretty much the game, right?

Nope. Ford tripled and Steinder singled in our 8th to make it 12-9 and bring in their best relief man Rube Ehrhardt. Brooklyn got another run in the 9th, but then we went cuckoo again. Cy singled to begin our final ups, and so did Wrightstone. Neis flubbed an easy fly in right for a two-base error and it was 13-10. Rachel hid behind her sun umbrella. Two ground outs followed, but one scored our 11th run. Joe Schultz hit for Steineder, our only home run threat on the bench. Ehrhardt reared and threw, Rachel peeking out, and Schultz creamed the ball on a line toward Benny's spot in the left field bleachers. Mokan ran back but the ball bounced off the wall in front of him for a double and it was 13-12! Rachel couldn't take any more, said she had to find a lavatory and left the grandstand, missing Heinie Sand's weak fly to right for the final out.

I sat waiting for her in my seat after half the place had left, and when she finally came back she was dabbing her face and neck with a wet handkerchief and was all smiles again, as if nothing had happened. But I was in a sour mood now after being thrilled and tortured for nine innings and still coming up short again. I told her the Phillies home record was a horrible 9-24 so she really had no business being worried, and if she was lucky maybe Brooklyn would just win 12-0 tomorrow and we wouldn't have to go through with this again.

She got as cool with me as I was with her, and we never went for ice cream, and during Mama's spaghetti feast that night I just sat and let Rachel Maria tie herself in knots with her fake Italian answers to Mama's questions. I knew I was being a dope, a jerk, and a bad host but come on, that game was just a brutal one and I need a full day to get over the brutal ones. Believe me, if the Robins had lost she would've left town on the first train.

We played some cards with Mama after dinner and Rachel let me win but I was still pretty much a wet blanket. I did give her my room and take the lumpy couch, though, hoping I could get all of my suffering out in one night, so I suppose I'll be ready to have fun again by morning. Good night, reader-people!

BRK 321 020 041 - 13 19 2
PHL 140 201 013 - 12 17 3

Other National League games today, and how about this?

at GIANTS 5-7-2, BRAVES 4-8-2
Boston comes real close to winning three games in a row, thanks to the yucky Giants, but lose their 50th game of the year instead. Down 3-0 in the 6th, New York scores all their runs on six hits off Joe Genewich, who was throwing a no-hitter until then.

at PIRATES 5-7-4, CUBS 4-9-2
For the second straight day, the Cubs blow a 4-0 lead in the middle of the game as Glenn Wright ties the game with a homer in the 6th and Cuyler wins it on a sac fly in the 7th. Emil Yde goes to 8-3, beating Guy Bush, who starts for the conveniently injured Pete Alexander. The Bucs make NINE errors the last two games and win both of them. What does that tell you?

at REDS 5-10-1, CARDINALS 4-8-1 (11 innings)
If not for our circus at Baker Bowl, this is the best game of the bunch. Flint Rhem has a 3-hit shutout going to the last of the 9th but Cincy ties the score with their typical batch of walks, timely hits, passed balls and other nonsense. Reliable Cards relief man Jesse Fowler is not today, and after he gives up a Walker double and Caveney single to start the last of the 11th, lefty Dyer comes on to face lefty Roush. BING! Base hit and this one goes to the Redlegs.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Thursday, June 26
Pittsburgh Pirates4422.667
Cincinnati Reds4129.5865
Brooklyn Robins3829.5676.5
New York Giants3730.5527.5
St. Louis Cardinals3631.5378.5
Chicago Cubs3135.47013
Philadelphia Phillies2543.36820
Boston Braves1750.25427.5