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Show Seelsigj BSfg League Baseball Z n I By BILLY EVANS " T" w U Sportswriter, Dig League Umpire and General Manager of the Cleveland Indians O One of the real classics of fan humor, hu-mor, as I view It, occurred at Washington Wash-ington some years ago with frank Isbell, Is-bell, former White Sox player, the goat. It ho happened that the Sox pulled Into town not very long afier 11 memorable visit by Mary Garden. On this occasion the celebrated prima donna had run afoul of the law because be-cause of a cost nine worn by her in portrayal of Salome. Perhaps It would be better If L said lack of costume. At any rate, the Incident attracted wl.le-Hprend wl.le-Hprend attention and Mary's misadventure misadven-ture whs still fresh In the minds of Washlnclonlans when the While Sox arrived for their series with the Nationals. Na-tionals. Now, Isbell Izzy as lie was called was ordinarily a very tractable player. He seldom kicked at n decision, anil then only when he thought he bad good and sulliclent reasons for kicking. kick-ing. On such occasions he broadcast bis belief. Izzy was baldhended. His scalp was as devoid of hair as the Sahara desert Is of wheat. When he took oh" his cap It looked as If a full moon bad risen. In the first name of the series, Isbell was called out at second on a close play. He got to his feet with murder In his eye, and the umpire, sensing that here was H difference of opinion, folded his arms In traditional fashion and turned his back. Speechless will rage, Izzy resorted to one of the most eloquent gestures of the diamond, one that Is almost Invariably rewarded with an Invitation to the showers. He snatched off his cap and flung it to the ground with ull his force. There was a brief second of quiet and then, clear as a bell, the drawling voice of a Washington fan floated from tbe stands: "Have a care, Izzy. They pinched Mary Garden for less than that." Like most human beings, a ball player play-er can always enjoy a Joke on the other oth-er fellow and sometimes on himself. Hut when the going has been tough, he sometimes finds it a little dillicult to see the humor In the sally that singles him out as its victim. The White Sox had an outfielder some years ago named Danny Green. He was a good performer, very fast, and might have been a great Slar If he had bad a decent throwing arm. Hut his wing was weak, and the oppo- sition knew It and frequently ran the bases wild on him. During the game I have In mind, the opposition scored twice from second base on Texas leaguers that had been fielded by Green. Green bad fielded both of them cleanly and had plenty of time to cut off his men at the plate, but his two throws had been atrocious. Late in the game another ball was bit to him under exactly the same conditions, con-ditions, and a rabid rooter, quick to grasp the situation, decided to give Danny a little coaching. "Cring it In. Danny," he pleaded, "Don't throw It; run with It." Everyone Every-one on the field got a huge laugh out of It except Green. I Imagine he thought It a pretty poor Joke. Larry (,'bappelle, an outfielder who cost the White Sox about $15,000 in the days when that was a lot of money, was called Into the lineup one day as a pinch hitter. It was a tight spot and he struck out. Now, there are mighty few ball players play-ers who can strike out In a pinch and feel undisturbed about it. There is that long walk to the bench in front of the stands, for one thing. And in the dugout, if not on the coaching i lines, Is the manager, usually with a look of Inquiry on his face. Most players have to do something to relieve re-lieve the strain. Nearly all of them resort to the same tiling, and that's what Chappelle did ; he started to take . a drink of water. ! But 'twixt the cup and the lip, as the saying goes, there was an interruption. A voice, alarmed, tense, nervous, came out of the stands. "Don't drink any of that. Don't drink it." Chappelle was startled. I think It very likely that, in his nervous condition, con-dition, be thought some one was going to warn him about typhoid germs or something. "Why?" he asked. "Because, you fathead, that water's for ball players only." (. 1930. Bell Syndicate.) |