Highpockets (2011)
“So that’s him! That’s what an old ballplayer looks like!
His lanky frame was covered with an aged piece of sacking which once had been a suit of clothes and now hung in folds from his shoulders. Years before, those shoulders had been the most powerful pitching shoulders in the National League; that afternoon they seemed shrunken and feeble. The Dodgers were playing in St. Louis, and old Mac Sweeny, the star hurler of the late twenties, had come in to see a game and his former club in action, from his home in a small Missouri town. Except to Chiselbeak, who had been around ever since the veteran sportswriters could recall, Mac was a stranger, a legend, a name only, Big Mac who had won twenty-five games with the Brooks his second year in the majors.
“Hey there, Mac, glad to see you.”
“Why, Casey! Well, Jim boy, this is like old times. How are ya?”
While they exchanged remarks and reminiscences about former players and older days, out on the field the rival teams were in their usual pre-...game practice, one group chasing fungos, another at the batting cage taking their raps.MoreLess
His lanky frame was covered with an aged piece of sacking which once had been a suit of clothes and now hung in folds from his shoulders. Years before, those shoulders had been the most powerful pitching shoulders in the National League; that afternoon they seemed shrunken and feeble. The Dodgers were playing in St. Louis, and old Mac Sweeny, the star hurler of the late twenties, had come in to see a game and his former club in action, from his home in a small Missouri town. Except to Chiselbeak, who had been around ever since the veteran sportswriters could recall, Mac was a stranger, a legend, a name only, Big Mac who had won twenty-five games with the Brooks his second year in the majors.
“Hey there, Mac, glad to see you.”
“Why, Casey! Well, Jim boy, this is like old times. How are ya?”
While they exchanged remarks and reminiscences about former players and older days, out on the field the rival teams were in their usual pre-...game practice, one group chasing fungos, another at the batting cage taking their raps.MoreLess
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