"BASEBALL HEROES WILL ALL BE MOLLYCODDLES"
A future outfielder, from the Colonel's slant.
By J. Campbell Cory.
I can't help harking back, upon
occasions, to the days when base
ball was a truly strenuous game,
when it took nerve and genuine
courage, as well as skill and judg
ment, to play up to the standard
of the old time fan.
And so it chanced, upon a re
cent evening when the Colonel
and myself had comfortably ad
justed ourselves in a cosy corner
at the club, that I rather enjoyed
the dear old fellow's pessimistic
chatter along those lines.
"It all makes me sick, my boy,
this poppycock about training
seasons training camps and
such latter day rot!" he snorted,
when I had gently led him around
to the topic nearest to his heart.
"Why, what in heaven's name do
they have to train for nowadays?
They're a bunch of mollycoddles
and pink tea dudes, these ball
players of today!
"Does a husky young athlete
have to train in order to stop a
ball with a hair mattress? Must
he be physically groomed and
mentally nurtured so that he may
learn to hit a balloon with a base
"Why all this clamor about a
professional bonehead because he
can be .trusted to attempt to
xml | txt