COMING ALONG WITH SOME REAL SPORTING DOPE
Curses on the luck! Wednesday night
we sat ourselves down in front of our
trenchant typewriter and ground out the
finest bunch of sporting dope that every
came out from the fingertips. Thursday
morning we started this elegant dope by
messenger to the typesetting establish
ment that attends to that end of he game
for us. The messenger lost the copy in
transit. What we thought of that mes
senger may be imagined if you will re
call what you thought of his umps the
time he robbed us of that game we had
fairly won. We thought so much of that
lost copy that we offered a reward of $13,
000, 50 cents of it in cash, for its return
before 8 :30 p. m., Thursday. But it didn't
show up. Now we wouldn't give Umpire
Clark for it. And you ought to know what
we think of the Clark person.
Jawnie Fox has succeeded in ironing
the kinks out of his spine, and Jawnie
minus a kinky spine is a mighty sweet
f linger. With him taking his turn in the
box, and with the nifty Mr. Smith added
to the staff, we are going to win a fine
mess of games during the rest of the season.
Praise John, we've emerged from that
slump! We knew all the time that it was
only a matter of a few days, so we sat
back and waited, utilizing the time in
mentally cursing the "Yellows" who sat
back and waited, utilizing the time in
mentally cursing the "Yellows who sat
around and knocked. They knew the team
was sloughing. They knew that Despain
didn't know any more .about baseball
than a rabbit. They knew that Unglaub
was a failure as a manager. That was
while we were in the slump. Today those
same "Yellows" are standing on their
hind legs and yawping for joy. I Jut, be
lieve us, the fellows that the players
cleave unto are- the fellows who kept
kept a stiff upper lip and stood by
the team all the time. And . whv
shouldn't the team have slumped a bit?
Cagnier out of the game with a busted
underpinning. Cockman playing third
with a right hand puffed up like a hasty
puddnig, Unglaub limping around on a
bum leg, Thomas guarding first with a
right hand thumb that looked like a red
toy balloon, Fox laid up with a kinked
spine. Knapp nursing an arm as sore as
a boil, and other players suffering from
the effects of trying to make up the loss
entailed by the disability of their mates.
The wonder is that we didn't slump fur
ther and harder. But the crips are all
back in the game again, and we are win
ning with glorious regularity.
Funny old playing schedule we have.
Monday we sent the team hiking to, Den
ver, 500 miles away, for a series. Then
we hiked them the same 500 miles back
for six games. Then we hiked them down
to Topeka for a serie,s and then on to
Pueblo, another 500 miles for a series.
Then we hike them back to the local lot
for fifteen games. And last Thursday we
saw the Topeka Kaws on the local lot for
the first time in sixty days. Those sched
ule makers must have thought they were
playing a game of 500.
A lot of the would-be knowledgeous
fans smiled sardonically when Frank la
bel 1 debutted in the box near the final
of the first game last Sunday. They
hugged themselves with joy at the
thought of how Izzie was going to be.
hammered to the four' quartern of the
globe. They didn't know that Frankfur
ter Isbell started his base 'ball career as
a pitcher. But he showed such hitting
ability' that his manager saw the wisdom
of keeping him in the game instead of
using him once or twice a week. After
trying him out in various positions it was
discovered that he was a natural born
first bagman, and there he's been ever
since. And instead of knocking Izzie
galley west last Sunday, just three men
faced him. Two were retired on little
pop-ups, and one died easily at first.
After seriously considering the matter
in all its phases we decided, early last
week, to have our Mr. Despain perch him
self on the players' bench during the
games. We had our reasons for. -making
this decision, and 'results have amply
justified us. The presence of the -proxy
on the bench had an almighty good moral
influence if the score board is a good
criterion by which to judge We emerged
from the slump with a whoop. We have
decided to instruct Mr. Despain to con
tinue there for a. short spell of periods.
Captain John Smith is not the only
Smith of fame. Indeed, Captain John
who has been a dead one for many years,
is hardly worth reckoning in these stir
ring days. Anyhow, about the only thing
we remember concerning him is that he
escaped a healthy swat over the head
with an Indian club through the interfer
encve of an Indian maiden named Poker
huntus. But the Smith we are now
whooping it up for never was captain of
anything, and he owes not his life to any
copper colored Injun of the shemale per
suasion. He is a rather small blonde gen
tleman with a powerful right wing and
more cunning in his fingers than ol'
Cap'n John ever had in his head. We
used the young tin' a bit early in the sea
son and then loaned him to the Fre
niontrs to be strung up to the proper con
cert pitch. The stringing up was proper
ly attended to, and last Sunday we
yanked him back and posed him on the
slab against the skyrocketing Izzies. And
young Smith spat upon the fuse of the
aforesaid Izzies and they failed to mount.
He had 'em eating out of his hand. We
desire to call attention to our ability as' a
prognosticator. We told you some spell
ago that young Mr. Smith was going to
come back on call and show himself to be
some punkins as a flinger.
By comparison Hack Jaskell is a fine
old umps by comparison with the
Clarks and the Shoemakers. But even ol'
Hack Jaskell tried to burglarize our
game bag last Sunday -in the first game
with the Izzies. Owing to all we suffered
at the hands of the Clark and Shoemaker
persons we contented ourselves with
scolding Hack and theoretically slapping
him on his fat old wrist.
Next to seeing a 'Lope smash out a
home run we love to see Colonel Charles
Jeewhilikens Bills march from his buzz
buggy to the bench and dramatically
hand a five spot to the smasher of the
home run. We've enjoyed the parade of
the Greatest Show on Earth. We have
seen the Mardi Gras and th Knights of
Ak-Sar-Ben. We have seen Dockstader's
minstrels shedding glory on the circum
ambient atmosphere. In fact we've seen
about all that it is possible for a man of
our young and tender years to see, but
the most glorious sight of all is the march
of Colonel Jeewhilikens Bills from the
aforementioned buzz wagon to the bench
with a five-case note fluttering from his
good right hand. We love the sight so
much that we hope the 'Lopes will smash
out enough home runs to keep the coionel
chasing from buzz buggy to bench until
his tongue hangs out.
Glorv be! Higgins announces a desire
to let go of the Des Moines club. We've
got Higg sized up. He is waiting for the
other seven managers to pay him his
price as a matter of self preservation. We
opine that Des Moines' record as a base
ball town would show a vast improve
ment if the Boosters had a manager that
enjoyed the confidence and respect of the
people. The Des Moines team is made up
of good ball players. Practically every
team in the western- loop could be
strengthened by adding to themselves
members of the Boosters. But the team
is disgruntled. Any, wage earner knows
how hard it is to give good service to an
. employer who is not liked or who is unap
preciative of faithful service. But a man
ager at the head of the Des Moines team
that will enjoy the confidence and re
spect of the team, and there'll be a dif
ferent look to the percentage table. But
in heaven's name let us hurry up and
make some move that will amputate Hig
gins from the roster of base ball magnates.
It's hell t' be poor, but de rich gits deir
bumps once in a while.
Till times change a bit de feller dat
calls me "senator" is goin' t' git de same
wallop dat I'd hand out t' de guy dat
called me a t'ief.
