Sorry I had to tape this note inside your locker but reporters have been all over me with this home run chase, and I didn’t want to chance Baker overhearing us either.
I spent most of last night and all of this morning over at the 58th Street Pier in Brooklyn, waiting for Markie’s ship to come in. Two straight days at Yankee Stadium without a homer, a 5-2 win and a 5-1 loss, and it was tough as hell escaping that locker room and our hotel later without 19 newspapermen seeing me.
The pier was a dank and dark place, and I didn’t want any of the longshoremen working there to notice me so I kept in the background, but after waiting around for almost two hours I had to talk to someone. I went up to a guy with a clipboard who seemed to be in some kind of charge. Naturally he knew who I was right off the bat and I had to promise him tickets to today’s game to keep him quiet. Anyway, he checked all his papers and told me there was no cargo ship from Antwerp scheduled to dock that night or the next. I promised him two more tickets for his brother- and sister-in-law and he made a call for me to the head overseas office of the Ozeankonig Company.
From that I learned two more things. Ozeankonig is not a Belgian company at all, it’s a German one. And their only boat that left Antwerp had “extra human cargo” in its hold and was heading to Miami. It must be that political refugee deal that Markie had mentioned about a month ago.
So that’s where I’m going right after today’s last game here. We’re a .500 team going nowhere, We have tomorrow off, and I don’t have to be at Comiskey Park until Saturday. Tell Baker I had a family emergency. I’ve already talked to my Mom and Dad and they’ve been clued in, just in case any nosy reporters or someone from the team calls them.
Sorry about doing this, but when Markie gets off the boat he’ll be all alone and I want to be there to greet him. Cover for me and I’ll make it up to you big time, pal.