Funny how a piece of good news can make every part of your day sunny and gorgeous in the 70s. The letter from your uncle saying you were safe arrived on Saturday, and the very next day I walked three times and knocked in a run as we beat the Yanks before hitting the road.
Now it hasn’t been an easy road so far through Cleveland and St. Louis, but the ball looks like a big melon every time I swing at it, and every park in the league is getting its share of smashed fruit in the bleachers. In my last ten games I have nine homers and 21 RBIs, and the lumber has never felt so light.
The trip began at League Park on Tuesday before only about 9,000 people, and there was probably less in no time because we whaled away on Galehouse for nine runs in the first two innings. I belted a 3-run homer, my 29th, over that deep left field wall and Harry held them off in the 9th for a 13-7 win.
Wednesday’s game was more of a back-and-forth thing, but we won it in the 8th on my second homer of the day off tough Mel Harder, a grand slam right down the line. Harry got his sixth save in the 7-4 win, and Mickey Cochrane took us out for steak and beers down at Jim’s later.
On Thursday we had a chance to get back to .500 but that dazzling greenhorn Bob Feller was on the hill. I went zip-for-four with a whiff, Roy Weatherly broke a 2-2 tie in the 9th with a scoring double, and we boarded the train out to the west needing more than just beers.
After a travel day and many card games and me telling everyone on the team about you, we got to Sportsman’s Park in St. Louis. In front of what looked like three dozen people I saw Hitler’s ugly face on every ball Orel Hildebrand threw and banged two more homers (up to 32 now!) in our 4-1 win for Benton.
I went 2-for-4 to get my average up to .323 and knocked in two more runs yesterday, but the game was a complete nightmare. George Gill took our 9-4 lead into the bottom of the 9th with two-thirds of the puny crowd already gone, and the damn Brownies threw together a SEVEN-run rally to beat us, finishing with Red Kress’ second homer of the game off Boots Poffenberg. It was so helpless standing there at first watching these nobodies circle the bases. I was all planning to write this letter to you last night but was too angry.
Batting practice today got me even angrier, because the St. Louis fans knew about out big collapse and some of them were letting me have it with “stupid ass Jew” shouts the whole time. I smashed three hits off Bobo Newsom and this time we turned the drama trick on them, scoring four times in the 9th and three in the 10th, and got back on the train for home and a July 4th doubleheader against the Indians just a game under .500 again.
You weren’t really in the stands to watch me, Markie, but damn did I ever feel like you were. So thanks for that and can’t wait to hear from you.