MY SPORTS MEMORIES I SAID MY rosary and hopped on deck with Billy Rugburn on the bag, one out behind him. Bill’s a fine fellow who nevertheless hadn’t lain hide off pitcher Treat Walsh all season. Walsh, a bruiser who knew how to slick ‘em in royal, was a gifted screwballer, today eager to help catcher Tom Myersberg break in his glove. Sock! Sock! Sock! And Billy slouches off, dragging his bat through the Illinois dust. So O.K., two outs. Suddenly there’s confusion! Hot dog, now there’s waving; and here comes security to chase me off the field. Well sir, that’s baseball.
Posted on: Tue, 30 Jul 2013 01:05:30 +0000
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