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Updated: May 26, 2025
No, that is not why you failed." "What then?" he demanded, still covetous, albeit rueful, too, at what he vaguely knew was lost opportunity. "It was because you did not play the part of a clammer naturally and nobly," I replied.
If you've been wonderin' how the cripped Stars won so many games just put what you've seen in your pipe and smoke it. Red Gilbat gets on Reddy Clammer gets on and then Reddie Ray drives them home or chases them home." The game went on, and though it did not exactly drag it slowed down considerably. Morrissey and Healy were retired on infield plays. And the sides changed.
He could have received it in his hands, but that would never have served Reddy Clammer. He timed the hit to a nicety, went down with his old grand-stand play and blocked the ball with his anatomy. Delaney swore. And the bleachers, now warm toward the gallant outfielder, lustily cheered him. Babcock hit down the right-field foul line, giving Clammer a long run.
Clammer was carried off the field into the dressing room and a physician was summoned out of the audience. "Cap., what'd it do to him?" asked Delaney. "Aw, spoiled his pretty mug, that's all," replied Healy, scornfully. "Mebee he'll listen to me now." Delaney's change was characteristic of the man. "Well, if it didn't kill him I'm blamed glad he got it.... Cap, we can trim 'em yet.
Whereupon Chesty Reddy Clammer proceeded to draw attention to himself, and incidentally delay the game, by assorting the bats as if the audience and the game might gladly wait years to see him make a choice. "Git in the game!" yelled Delaney. "Aw, take my bat, Duke of the Abrubsky!" sarcastically said Dump Kane. When the grouchy Kane offered to lend his bat matters were critical in the Star camp.
"Tell Reddie to swing over a little toward left," was Delaney's order to Healy. Fire gleamed in the manager's eye. Fuller called play then, with Reddy Clammer and Reddie Ray composing the Star outfield. And the Grays evidently prepared to do great execution through the wide lanes thus opened up.
Not improbably Clammer was thinking first of his presence before the multitude, secondly of his batting average and thirdly of the run to be scored. In this instance he waited and feinted at balls and fouled strikes at length to work his base. When he got to first base suddenly he bolted for second, and in the surprise of the unlooked-for play he made it by a spread-eagle slide.
I hastened over to Lafitte and called loudly to L'Olonnois, and commanded Partial to drop the renewed encounter with the clammers' dog, which now, also, swiftly threatened us. So, in a moment or two, I restored peace. I held out my hand to the clammer.
And he never offered to hit one of the balls Wehying shot over. When Fuller had called the third strike Red hurried back to the door and disappeared. "Somethin' doin'," whispered Delaney. Lord Chesterfield Clammer paraded to the batter's box and, after gradually surveying the field, as if picking out the exact place he meant to drive the ball, he stepped to the plate.
O'Brien was a strapping fellow and he lifted another ball into Clammer's wide territory. The hit was of the high and far-away variety. Clammer started to run with it, not like a grim outfielder, but like one thinking of himself, his style, his opportunity, his inevitable success. Certain it was that in thinking of himself the outfielder forgot his surroundings.
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