But I meant to tell about my base-ball days. These began so long ago that I do not know the time, but I am sure they commenced as the game began, for base-ball was evolved from our boyish game of “two-old-cat and three-old-cat,” which we played while very young. Since I batted my last ball I have often sat on the bleachers of our great towns to see the game. But base-ball now is not the base-ball of my young days. Of course I would not admit that there are better players now than then, but the game has been brought to such a scientific state that one might as well stand and watch the thumping1 of some great machine as a modern game of ball. There used to be room for individual merit, for skill, for blunders and mistakes, for chance and luck, and all that goes to make up a game.
The hired players of to-day are no more players than mercenary troops are patriots2. They are bought and sold on the open market, and have no pride of home and no town reputation to maintain. Neither I nor any of my companions could any more have played a 210game of base-ball with Hartford against Farmington than we could have joined a foreign army and fought against the United States. And we would have scorned to hire mercenaries from any other town. We were not only playing ball, but we were fighting for the glory and honor of Farmington. Neither had the game sunk to any such ignoble3 state that we were paid for our services. We played ball; we did not work at the trade of amusing people,—we had something else to do. There was school in the spring and autumn months; there were the grist-mill, the blacksmith-shop, and the farms in the summer-time, and only Saturday afternoons were reserved for ball, excepting such practice as we might get in the long summer twilight4 hours. We literally5 left our callings on the day we played ball,—left them as Cincinnatus left his plough in the furrow6 and rode off to war in obedience7 to his country’s call.
At school we scarcely took time to eat our pie or cake and cheese, but crammed8 them into our mouths, snatched the bat, and hurried to the ball-grounds, swallowing our luncheon9 in great gulps10 as we went along. At recess11 we played until the last tones of the little bell had died 211away, and the teacher with exhausted12 patience had shut the door and gone back to her desk; then we dropped the clubs and hurried in. When school was out, we went home for our suppers and to do our few small chores, and then rushed off to the public square to get all the practice that we could.
Well do I remember one summer Saturday afternoon long years ago,—how long, I cannot say, but I could find the date if I dared to look it up. The almanacs, when we got the new ones at the store about Christmas, had told us that there would be an almost total eclipse of the sun that year. The people far and near looked for the eventful day. As I recall, some wise astronomers13 hired a special ship and sailed down to the equator to make observations which they could not make at home. We children smoked little bits of glass over a lighted candle, that we might look through the blackened glass straight at the dazzling sun.
When the day came round, there it was a Saturday afternoon! Of course we met as usual on the public square; we chose sides and began the game. We saw the moon slowly and surely throwing its black shadow 212across the sun; but we barely paused to glance up at the wonders that the heavens were revealing to our view. We did not stop the game until it grew so dark that we could hardly see the ball, and then sadly and reluctantly we gathered at the home-base, feeling that the very heavens had conspired14 to cheat us of our game. Impatiently we waited until the moon began to drift so far past the sun that his friendly rays could reveal the ball again; and then we quickly took our places, and the game went on. It could not have been too dark to play for more than twenty or thirty minutes at the most, yet this marvel15 sank into insignificance16 in comparison with the time we lost from our game of ball.
Our usual meeting-place was on the public square. This was not an ideal spot, but it was the best we had. The home-base was so near the hotel that the windows were in constant danger, and the dry-goods store was not far beyond the second base. Squire17 Allen’s house and a grove18 of trees were only a little way back of the third base, and many a precious moment was lost in hunting for the ball in the grass and weeds in his big 213yard. The flag-pole and the guide-post, too, stood in the most inconvenient19 spots that could be found. We managed to move the guide-post, but the mere20 suggestion of changing the flag-pole was thought to be little less than treason; for Farmington was a very patriotic21 town.
We played base-ball for many years before we dreamed of such extravagance as special suits to play it in. We came to the field exactly as we left our work, excepting that some of us would manage to get a strap-belt to take the place of suspenders. We usually played in our bare feet, for we could run faster in this way; and when in the greatest hurry to make first-base, we generally snatched off our caps and threw them on the ground.
We had a captain of the team, but his rule was very mild, and each boy had about as much to say as any of the rest. This was especially true when the game was on. Not only did each player have a chance to direct and advise, in loud shouts and boisterous22 words, but the spectators joined in all sorts of counsel, encouragement, and admonition. When the ball was struck particularly hard, a shout went 214up from the gathered multitude as if a fort had fallen after a hard-fought siege. Then every person on the field would shout directions,—how many bases should be run, and where the fielder ought to throw the ball,—until the chief actors were so confused by the babel of voices that they entirely23 lost their heads.
Finally we grew so proud of our progress in base-ball that after great efforts we managed to get special suits. These were really wonders in their way. True, they were nothing but a shirt and a pair of trousers that came down just below the knee. But all the boys were dressed alike, and the suits were made of blue with a red stripe running down the side of the legs to help the artistic24 effect. After this, we played ball better than before; and the fame of our club crept up and down the stream and over beyond the hills on either side. Then we began issuing challenges to other towns and accepting theirs. This was still more exciting. By dint25 of scraping together our little earnings26, we would contrive27 to hire a two-horse wagon28 and go out to meet the enemy in foreign lands. In turn, the outside 215clubs would come to visit us. The local feeling spread from the boys to their families and neighbors, and finally the girls got interested in the game and came to see us play. This added greatly to our zeal29 and pride. Often, in some contest of more than common interest, the girls got up a supper for the club; and when the game was done we ranged ourselves on the square and gave three cheers for the other club, and then three cheers for the girls. This they doubtless thought was pay enough.
A game of ball in those exciting times was not played in an hour or two after the day’s work was done. It began promptly30 at one o’clock and lasted until dark; sometimes the night closed in before it was finished. The contest was not between the pitcher31 and the catcher alone; we all played, and each player was as important as the rest. Our games never ended with four or five sickly tallies32 on a side. A club that could get no more runs than this had no right to play. Each club got forty or fifty tallies, and sometimes more; and the batting was one of the features of the game. Of course, we boys were not so cool 216and deliberate and mechanical as players are to-day. We had a vital interest in the game; and this, more than any other activity, was our very life. The base-ball teams of these degenerate34 days are simply playing for pay; and they play ball with the same precision that a carpenter would nail shingles35 on a roof. Ball-playing with us was quite another thing. The result of our games depended as much upon our mistakes, and those of the other side, as upon any good playing that we did. In a moment of intense excitement the batter36 would knock the ball straight into the short-stop’s hands; it was an easy matter to throw it to first-base and head off the runner, and every boy on the field and every man in the crowd would shout to the short-stop just what to do. He had time to spare; but for the moment the game was his, and all eyes were turned on him. As a rule, he eagerly snatched the ball and threw it clear over the first-baseman’s head, so far away that the batter was safely landed on third-base before the ball was again inside the ring. The fielder, too, at the critical time, when all eyes were turned toward him, would get fairly under the flying ball, and then let it 217roll through his hands while the batter got his base. At any exciting part of the game the fielding nine could be depended upon to make errors enough to let the others win the game.
Then, as now, the umpire’s place was the hardest one to fill. It was the rule that the umpire should be chosen by the visiting club; and this carried him into a violently hostile camp. Of course, he, like everyone else, could be relied on in critical times to decide in favor of his friends; but such decisions called down on him the wrath37 of the crowd, who sometimes almost drove him off the field.
It was a famous club that used to gather on the square. Whether in batting, catching38, or running bases, we always had a boy who was the best in all the country round, and the base-ball club added not a little to the prestige that we all thought belonged to Farmington.
One game I shall remember to the last moment of my life. The fight had been long and hard, with our oldest and most hated rivals. The day was almost done, and the shadows already warned us that night was close at hand. We had come to the bat for the last half of the last inning, and were within one of the 218score of the other side, with two players out, and two on bases. Of course no more exciting situation could exist; for this was the most critical portion of the most important event of our young lives. It came my turn to take the bat. After one or two feeble failures to hit the ball, I swung my club just at the right time and place and with tremendous force. The ball went flying over the roof of the store, and rolled down to the river-bank on the other side. I had gone quite around the ring before anyone could get near the ball. I can never forget the wild ovation39 in which I ran around the ring, and the mad enthusiasm when the home-plate was reached and the game was won. Whenever I read of Cæsar’s return to Rome, I somehow think of this great hit and my home-run which won the game.
All the evening, knots of men and boys gathered in the various public places to discuss that unprecedented40 stroke. Next day at church almost every eye was turned toward me as I walked conspicuously41 and a little tardily42 up the aisle43, and for days and weeks my achievement was the chief topic of the town. Finally the impression wore away, as all things do in this 219busy world where everybody wants the stage at once, and then I found myself obliged to call attention to my great feat33. Whenever any remarkable44 play was mentioned or great achievement referred to, I would say, “Yes, but do you remember the time I knocked the ball over the store and made that home-run?” Many years have passed since then, and here I am again relating this exploit and writing it down to be printed in a book.
Since that late summer afternoon when I ran so fast around the ring amidst the plaudits of my town, I have had my rightful share of triumphs and successes,—especially my rightful share in view of the little Latin I knew when I started out in life. But among them all fame and time and fortune have never conspired to make my heart so swell45 with pride through any other triumph of my life as when I knocked the ball over the dry-goods store and won the game.
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1
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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2
patriots
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| 爱国者，爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
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3
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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4
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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5
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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6
furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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7
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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8
crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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10
gulps
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| n.一大口（尤指液体）( gulp的名词复数 )v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的第三人称单数 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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11
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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12
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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13
astronomers
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| n.天文学者，天文学家( astronomer的名词复数 ) | |
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14
conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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15
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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16
insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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18
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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19
inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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20
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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21
patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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22
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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23
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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24
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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25
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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26
earnings
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| n.工资收人；利润，利益，所得 | |
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27
contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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28
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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29
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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30
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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31
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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32
tallies
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| n.账( tally的名词复数 )；符合；（计数的）签；标签v.计算，清点( tally的第三人称单数 )；加标签（或标记）于；（使）符合；（使）吻合 | |
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33
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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34
degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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35
shingles
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| n.带状疱疹；（布满海边的）小圆石( shingle的名词复数 )；屋顶板；木瓦（板）；墙面板 | |
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36
batter
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| v.接连重击；磨损；n.牛奶面糊；击球员 | |
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37
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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38
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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39
ovation
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| n.欢呼，热烈欢迎，热烈鼓掌 | |
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40
unprecedented
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| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
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41
conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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42
tardily
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| adv.缓慢 | |
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43
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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44
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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45
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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