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Show fPfl V 7 fMV7ZAYll V ?CE ,. J TAMPA, FLA. A session with Clark Griffith, the Gray Fox of Washington, carries you back many a day and many a year. Outside of Connie Mack, Griff can take you deeper into the thrills of the past than anyone else in basebaU. My own first training camp thrill ' came in 1898 in Nashville. A tall, broad-shouldered, awkward-looking party came into the locker room, wearing a pale-blue suit with brass buttons. A short while later against Vanderbilt he showed us a buzzing medley of speed and curves that no one had ever seen before. And not so many have seen it since. He was over six feet two, weighed 200 pounds, and he was lanky in looks. In addition to blazing speed he had the fastest-breaking curve ball I've ever seen. His name was George Edward (Rube) Waddell. Even when he was fading out with tuberculosis he still had enough left to strike out 16 of Connie Mack's j Athletics. Griff's Top Thrill Griff's top training camp thrill ar- i rived in Atlanta around 1904. Griff was waiting that morning to meet a young first baseman, just heading in from California. He had j no other first baseman on his Yankee roster, so the rookie had to be good. "Suppose he's a flop, what'll you do?" I asked the Old Fox. "A flop?" said Griff. "He's going to be the greatest first baseman that ever lived. You wait and see." The kid arrived around noon or a trifle later. He was well built. i: ' . ,1; CLARK GRIFFITH on the lean side, with a quick, friendly smile. The personality part was all there. "How many days before you'll be ready to start?" Griffith asked him. "I thought you played a game today," the rookie said. "We do," Griff told him. "That's when I'd like to start," his young first baseman countered. "I'm always in shape." That afternoon he made at least three plays around first that left your scalp sizzling. They were plays no one but a great artist could make. With a runner on second someone laid a bunt along the first-base first-base foul-line. The kid was on it like a bounding kangaroo in time to nail the runner at third. It took less than his first ball game to know that another star was on his way to . the headlines. The rookie's name was Hal Chase. Another Fair Entry There was the day back in Augusta Augus-ta around the same period when an i 18-year-old stripling came along. First time up he laid down a bunt, beat it out, stole second and then third. He finished out the day with a double, triple and home run. The Hon. Oliver Babe Hardy was among those present. Not a bad afternoon for an 18-year-old kid. His name was Tyrus Raymond Cobb of Royston, Ga. Later on he only made over 4,000 base hits and stole close to 1,000 bases before hes took off the spikes after 24 years. . There were .training camp days in the old Southern league, also. I recall re-call two outfielders who caught and held the eye. They were great ball players the first time you saw them. Looking back a long, long way, this was around 1907 as I recall time, now shrouded in mists. One played for Little Rock the other for New Orleans. The first was the best looking outfielder I'd ever seen in action. And one of the best hitters. His name was Tris Speaker. The other was the best looking actor with a bat around the plate anyone had ever seen. His name was Shoeless Joe Jackson. And there was the spring training season 21 years ago, back in 1919, when the Boston Red Sox decided to make a regular outfieder out of their crack left-handed pitcher. They had an idea he might turn out to be a flrst-cass slugger. In one of the March games here in Florida he mauled one that carried car-ried over 500 feet into a pine thicket beyond the field the longest blow the oldest inhabitant had ever seen, not even barring the top hurricane. I was on that trip and I was looking look-ing at a fellow by the name of Babe R'uth. |