Honus & Me: Chapters 7–10

“Who are you?” I asked, dumbfounded.

There were bags under his brown eyes, and a tinge of sadness in his face.

Anybody posing as Wagner would know that. I looked down the column for a more obscure statistic.

“Son, no piece of cardboard is gonna solve a man’s problems, unless it’s to keep a draft out of his window.”

Honus interrupted my reverie.

I slunk down into my seat.

I swung my bat menacingly and put a determined look on my face.

At least I didn’t whiff, I thought, as I trudged back to the bench.

“Woulda been a home run,” the catcher said as I passed him, “if we were playing in an elevator shaft.”

“Heck, I twirl a few games when the regular pitchers are worn out. I don’t have much of a curve, but I throw hard. They say if I ever hit a batter they should send for an undertaker, because it’ll be too late for an ambulance.”

“You got a nice stroke. Who taught you to play, your dad?”

Will wasn’t interested in playing ball professionally, but I was. Anything to get out of the mines. So when they offered Will a tryout, I hopped a freight train to Steubenville and took his place.

One day a bunch of us were chuckin’ lumps of coal at an empty hopper across the Monongahela River.

“Well, in the confusion, I picked up the rabbit and threw it to first.”
“What happened?” I asked, incredulously.

With that, Honus slapped his knee and laughed uproariously.

She sat there for a long time thinking before rendering her verdict.

I opened the night table drawer. Inside was a Bible and some sheets of blank stationery.

A bunch of antique cars were on the street, sputtering, backfiring, and honking their horns.

“Why not dress in the locker room?”
“No hot water. Besides, the kranks like to see us on their way to the game. Gets ’em riled up, you know?”

“Fanatics,” Honus said as he pushed open the door facing the street. “Fans. Don’t let the Tiger kranks bother you.”

I was glad Honus told me to put on a jacket, because it was raw and windy outside.

Red, white, and blue bunting hung around the ballpark.

Band music blared in the distance.

Newsboys hawked papers for a penny.

“Okay, but why?” I was bewildered.