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“Christ, next time we gotta make sure we aren’t trading for one of these intellectuals.”
He said it under his breath, but not really.
“Look, you know how this goes. A team hits us, we hit them back. Ledger has to be even.”
“I know, but their guy – sorry, our guy – charged the mound. That’s equal to hitting one of their guys.”
Blackburn stared Ryan down for a moment, turning his chaw over in his mouth. He looked like he
regretted bringing Ryan in as much as Ryan did.
“Don’t you think so?” Ryan said, turning to the catcher to appeal. It was a risky move, but if anyone was
going to side with a pitcher, it was the guy catching him.
“I don’t know, I just wanted to go over the signs.”
“You want to take a poll?” Blackburn said. “We’ve got time.”
He motioned the infielders to the mound. The second baseman and shortstop jogged in, the corner
infielders walked. Ryan put his hands on his hips.
“Fellas, our pitcher thinks he shouldn’t have to throw at one of their guys after last night’s little dust up.
Says that clearing the benches cleans the slate. What do we think?”
The infielders looked around at each other, each of them waiting for someone else to talk first.
“I was in the can when the whole thing went down,” the shortstop said. “I heard a commotion, but I still had
to pull up my pants. I skipped washing my hands, but I didn’t get out there in time to even point and yell at
anyone. So I’d still like to hit a guy.”
“Yeah, no one got a punch in,” Milt Collier, the muscular first baseman who’d twice tagged Ryan for home
runs that season, said. “I pulled a button off someone’s jersey and ate it, but that was it.”
THE UNDER REVIEW