[legendsport]

September 29, 1935: Brooklyn, NY:

"I'd stay away from him, if I were you," Fred Barrell told his brother.

Harry smirked and shook his head. "Worse than usual?" he asked.

Fred barked a short, humorless laugh, "Yeah," he said. Then he seemed to ponder for a second and asked, "You know how he is on days he pitches most of the time?"

Harry nodded, said, "Sure, we all know that," sweeping an arm around the Kings clubhouse. He shot a glance at the corner stall where his brother Tom sat rubbing a baseball.

Fred followed his gaze and said quietly, "Well... it's like that, only about five times worse."

Now it was Harry's turn to laugh, but his had a touch of nervousness to it. "Makes sense," he began, "since we absolutely need to win this game."

Fred didn't reply. He didn't need to - everyone knew the situation: last day of the season, Brooklyn trailing the Cleveland Foresters - again! - by one game. They absolutely needed to win, and also needed the Philadelphia Sailors to do them the favor of handing the Foresters a defeat. A tough ask - that game was in Cleveland.

Harry nodded at Tom with his chin. "You ever find out why he does that?"

Fred looked at Tommy rubbing the ball. "He says it helps him focus. I figured I'd just take him at his word," he added with a raised eyebrow.

Walt Bailey stumped out of his office, stopping with his legs splayed out in his inimitable way in the dead center of the room. Every eye in the room was on him... except Tom's. He just kept rubbing at the baseball.

"I'm not a big one for speeches," Bailey began and then paused to glare at Harry who had snorted. "Sorry skip," Harry muttered.

Bailey frowned in silence for a moment before continuing, "Right... so, as I was saying... everyone in this room knows our situation. Let's go do our part. Whatever happens in Cleveland... happens. So let's go get it!"

There were a few exclamations from some of the more exciteable fellows but most of the team followed the lead of Al Wheeler who just scowled and nodded once, firmly. Wheeler had enjoyed a monster season, entering this final tilt with an average of .359, 34 homers and 129 RBIs. Harry himself was hitting .351, Doug Lightbody .354, Frank Vance .354... and despite all that alongside a fantastic pitching staff (Tom himself was 22-10, Joe Shaffner had 24 wins and Mike Murphy 20)... and they still couldn't quite get past those guys out in Ohio.

Harry felt tight, and he worried that his team mates did as well. Vance and Wheeler had their game faces on, but even the unflappable Vance was giving off a whiff of nervousness. Wheeler.... he was hard-wired and as straight an arrow as you could find. He was essentially unreadable. Tom was as bristly as a porcupine and Fred looked nervous. Harry shot a look at Dan. The oldest of the baseball-playing Barrell boys was sitting quietly at his locker. He didn't look nervous, just bitter. It was a familiar look for a guy who'd lost his starting job.

The team hit the field. Harry looked across at the New York Stars dugout. The Kings' cross-river cousins were down on the luck and that was all to the good in Harry's opinion. But... they did still have John Lawson, Dave Trowbridge and Pete Layton. Down the right-field line Harry watched for a moment as 23-year-old Rollie Beal warmed up for the Stars. He had no fear of Beal, he wasn't particularly effective.

As he stretched, Harry looked over at Tom. He was warming up and throwing hard already, making Fred's glove pop. Fred yelled something out to Tom and Harry saw Tom raise his glove and waggle the fingers of his throwing hand in a "come on" gesture. Fred frowned, shook his head and threw the ball back. When Tom wouldn't listen to Fred at all that was typically a bad sign.

Harry and his team mates went through the rest of their pre-game routine. Finally it was game time. The organist played the national anthem and Harry bounced up and down on his toes, unable to stand still. At least he kept his hand over his heart. When the last note faded and the umpire yelled "Play ball!" Harry was a bundle of nervous energy and more than ready to just get the game going.

Tom climbed the mound from the back side. He already had the ball in his glove. Stars CF Mike Mason was the leadoff man. Mason was a left-handed hitter so Harry shaded a bit towards the bag at second. Tom rocked and fired his first pitch, a letter-high fastball that Mason fought off for a foul ball into the stands on the first base side. Vance, playing 1B as usual, gave it a look but hardly moved.

The second pitch was another foul, again into the 1B stands.

Fred flashed the sign, and Tom bobbed his head. Harry, able to see the sign knew a third-straight heater was on the docket. This time Mason was unable to catch up and whiffed on it. One down.

Tom was still stone-faced as he raised his glove to take the throw from Vance after the Kings tossed it around the horn. Bill Rich, the Stars SS was next. Tom kept the diet of heaters going, but he began overthrowing and he ended up walking Rich on four pitches.

Harry heard his brother swear as he caught the return throw from Fred after the fourth straight ball. John Lawson headed to the plate and Harry settled into double-play position after signaling his keystone partner Jake Shadoan that he himself would take the throw should Rich attempt a steal.

Tom got ahead of Lawson 0-2 after the veteran third sacker fouled off the first two pitches. This was followed up by a pair of balls... both close. Harry could almost hear Tom's teeth grinding in frustration. Harry wasn't sure whether his brothers' frustration was with himself or the umpire. Lawson fought off a good 2-2 pitch, took ball three and then fought off a good 3-2 pitch too. On the eighth pitch of the at-bat, Tom missed off the corner and Lawson tossed his bat and trotted down to first. Harry heard another swear word from Tom.

First sacker Dave Trowbridge was hitting cleanup. Trowbridge was, to Harry's eye, pretty much the epitome of the professional hitter. Tom's pendulum swung back to effectiveness; after dealing a first-pitch ball, he came right back with a beautiful slider for a called strike. He got a rare swing and miss from Trowbridge on a fastball and then put him away on a nice change. Fred pushed his mask back and shouted some encouragement to Tom before throwing the ball back.

Two on, two out.

Harry moved out of double-play depth, waggling his right hand with two fingers raised to let his team mates know there were two outs. "Get this guy, Tommy," he said to his brother as the latter took a few steps behind the mound while Larry Colaianni walked to the plate. Harry saw Fred say something to Colaianni, who Harry knew was one of the smarter players around, and although he himself was a friendly sort too, he privately wished his brother wouldn't talk to the opposition, today of all days. Harry eased behind Rich who was leading off second, looking to keep the guy honest. Rich looked, but didn't move. Harry slid back out.

Colaianni fouled off the first pitch, back over the screen then took a changeup off the plate to even it up 1-1. Fred flashed through a series of signs, Tom nodded, checked Rich over his shoulder, then delivered a fastball that caught a little too much of the plate. Colaianni rifled it back through the box, nearly taking Tom's foot off. Harry flashed his quick reflexes, shooting toward the bag, but the ball had been smoked and zipped by a couple of feet to the left of the second base bag and into center.

Harry popped up as fast as he could and went towards the bag as Shadoan went to take a potential relay throw. Meanwhile, Rich was busting it around third base and Lawson was steaming towards Harry at second.

Center fielder Bill May scooped up the ball and in the same motion threw it high and hard towards home plate. The throw was a bit off-line and Fred came up the first base line to snag it as Rich slid across the plate. Tom had run to backup Fred and Harry could see the rage on his face. Lawson stopped at second, gave Harry a smile and said, "How you doin' Barrell?"

Harry nodded back, saying, "John," in as friendly a voice as he could muster given the overwhelming desire to beat these guys that filled him head to toe.

Tom was still steaming and went down 2-0 to the very dangerous Pete Layton. Harry mused that even though the veteran keystone was 35 and hadn't had a particularly good season, he knew more about hitting than most men playing the game and he knew how to work an emotional pitcher. And that was exactly what Tom Barrell was at that moment.

Sure enough, after a swing and miss on the third pitch, Layton shot a clean single past Shadoan into right-center. Lawson scored as May's throw was again late and the only thing it accomplished was allowing Colaianni to advance to third. 2-0 Stars.

Tom's face looked like an incoming thunderstorm and he grooved the first pitch to the next batter, the RF Owen Murdock, who repeated Layton's hit by shooting it right past Shadoan in nearly the same spot to score Colaianni. Layton held at second, looked at Harry and said, "Looks like we're giving May's arm a workout today, eh Barrell?"

"Funny," Harry said with a frown.

The eighth-place hitter was catcher Hughie Fletcher whose nickname was Turkey. Harry just hoped Tom would settle down and get this guy out before any more damage was done.

Fletcher fouled the first pitch into the screen and whiffed on a nice fastball on the second pitch. Harry took a deep breath as he watched Tom deliver the third pitch. As he watched Fletcher unload on what was a clear mistake by Tom, Harry's heart dropped into his stomach.

Behind the plate, Fred swore after watching Fletcher put a rock solid swing on a fastball that was supposed to be outside corner and instead was right over the heart of the dish.

The ball soared towards left field. Wheeler looked up and began backpedaling towards the 386 sign on the left-field wall. Harry watched Wheeler, an old trick he had learned long ago - watch the way the outfielder tracks the ball and you can usually figure out if it's going out. Harry figured Wheeler had this as he watched him circle towards the line, his glove out to feel the wall. It was going to be close....

The wall was only seven feet high but Wheeler still needed to leap. Every eye in the park was on the ball as it dropped towards, and then over, the glove of Wheeler and into the second row of the left-field seats. There was a collective groan from the crowd and Harry clearly heard Fletcher shout "Yes!" as he ran past behind him, circling the bases after putting the Stars up 6-0 before the Kings had even had a chance to hit.

The Kings did show a bit of fight. After Harry flew out leading off the home first, Doug Lightbody hit a rare home run to put Brooklyn on the board and a two-run double by Wheeler in the third cut the Stars lead to 6-3. Bailey elected to have Danny hit for Tom in the home fourth with no one on and two out which may have been a mistake: Dan lined to short to end the inning and Art White came on in the fifth to immediately surrender a couple runs to make it 8-3 Stars. A two-run triple by Bill May in the home sixth ended up being the final tallies of the game, and season, for the Kings.

The 8-5 defeat officially ended Brooklyn's shot at tying Foresters, who did lose to the Sailors in Cleveland.

As Harry dressed in a clubhouse that was as quiet as a tomb, he knew this was going to be a long offseason.

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