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Show BPS mbw -n DASEBALL, above all other games, ha known more than its share in the way of masterpieces of eccentricity. Many of these 1 happen to know. They were true color, because they were naturals, born with oddities few could believe. Rube Waddell was one of them, one of the greatest of all pitchers ,,.- who would rather go fishing or tend bar (for nothing) than win a ball game. Another was Crazy Schmidt of the old Reds, who carried a smal) notebook in his hip pocket, denoting the weak spots of all opposing hitters. Against Hans Wag- G. Rice ner'i name he had this one line "A base on balls." That's what Wag- ; her got from Schmidt. Bbufflin' Phil Douglas of the , Giants Dizzy Dean of the Cards-are Cards-are around the head of the list. Also i Flint Rhein, Babe Herman, Bobo i Newsom, Germany Schaefer, Shoe- j less Joe Jackson, Arlie Latham-nuts, Latham-nuts, wits and half wits-but all great ballplayers. Latham was one of the smartest. The list is too long to go into further details. But, one of the leaders In this colorful Held has been overlooked and forgotten. His name is Bugs Raymond, the pitcher John Mc-Graw Mc-Graw always insisted had the finest pitching motion he ever saw, Including In-cluding Walter Johnson, who was smooth as the west wind, and as tornadic or cyclonic. Raymond should be right around the top In 1 this human oddity group that includes in-cludes only stars. I still remember my first meeting j with Raymond, some 43 years ago. I This happened to be a spring day in ' Atlanta around the now forgotten ; era of 1904. Crackers vs. Boston The Atlanta Crackers on that day ! were to play the world's champion Boston Americans, who, the fall before, be-fore, had beaten Pittsburgh's great team in the first, but still unofficial world series of 1903. This Boston team, managed by the brilliant Jimmy Collins, one of the greatest infielders of all time, was baseball's sensation. Big Bill Di-neen Di-neen had been a major factor in winning this series from a team that had such stars as Hans Wagner, Wag-ner, Fred Clarke, Tommy Leach and Kitty Bransfield. Boston, long before any Red Sox appellation, was about a 1 to 40 bet to win champions of the world playing against a strictly bush league outfit. By some odd chance, before starting start-ing a mile and a half walk to the ball park, I happened to be taking a drink at some wayside bar in preparation for the trip. A heavy hand fell on my shoulder and, as I looked around, there was an unkempt-looking fellow, around 200 pounds, who wore no necktie and hadn't shaved in at least two days. Here was the king of all the tramps I'd ever seen. "How about buying me a drink, fellow?" was his opening remark. I bought him a drink. Then I had to buy him another drink. "How do we get out to this ball park?" he asked. "We walk," I said, "if you are going with me." Then a sudden morbid thought hit me. "Isn't your name Raymond?" I asked. "Yes," he said. "Bugs Raymond." ,S7;s Out the Champs "Do you happen to know," I suggested, sug-gested, "that you are pitching today against the Boston Americans, the world champions?" "I never heard of 'em," Raymond said. "Where's Boston?" On the walk to the ball park that afternoon. Bugs spent most of the trek throwing rocks at pigeons, telegraph tele-graph poles and any target in sight. People I had known in Atlanta gave me an odd look after taking a brief glance at my unshaven, rough and rowdy-looking companion. compan-ion. Knowing what would happen later, I wasn't bothered about any social check-up. Raymond started the game by insulting in-sulting Jimmy Collins, Freddy Parent Par-ent George LaChance and every star on the Boston team. He would walk from the pitcher's box up towards to-wards the plate and let them know, in forcible and smoking language, what he thought they all were. What the Boston Americans, the world's champions, didn't know, and what I didn't know, or anyone else, was this: They were facing one of the greatest spit-ball pitchers and one of the greatest natural pitchers of all time if you could only keep ninl ,,e-tliird sober, which even Mc-Graw Mc-Graw couldn't. Not even with four bodyguards. Raymond had speed, curves, control-plus an Ed Walsh spitter. But on this particular occasion, Raymond shut out the world's champions. 3 to 0, and allowed them just three scratch singles. As we faintly recall the hazy details. Rav mond had 11 strikeouts. -Even half sober," McGraw told me once. "Raymond would have been one of the greatest." |