So it went every afternoon for a week. A half-dozen more martyrs joined
the squad in that space of time. Gradually some of the first exercises
were eliminated from the programme and the dumb-bell drill took their
place. That dumb-bell work certainly gave surprising results, as Joe
confided to Jack one evening as they hurried from school to the Adams
Building. “I can turn my wrists in all sorts of ways,” laughed Joe.
“They’re beginning to feel as if they didn’t have any bones in them!”
“A few days ago I felt as if I didn’t have anything but bones,” replied
Jack. “We’re almost through with this business, thank goodness. If the
weather is all right about Saturday morning you’ll see us loping across
the landscape, Joey. Bat is foxy about that.” Jack chuckled. “He always
has a press of business when it comes to taking a hike!”
“So would I if I was coaching,” laughed Joe. “Wonder if he wouldn’t
like me to stay behind and help him!”
“Ask him! I dare you to!”
Jack’s prediction proved right. On Thursday of that week the weather
turned warm and windy and the ground, which had been like a wet sponge,
dried so that it was possible to set foot to it without going in to the
ankle. Sam Craig took charge and, lightly attired, the squad followed
him over the better part of a two-mile journey that led across fields
and over walls and, finally, back to town by the road. They alternated
walking with jogging, but there was no let-up save for some five or six
fellows who gave out before the romp was over. On the following Monday
the first baseball appeared in the cage, and after a short setting-up
drill and a brief session with the wooden dumb-bells the candidates
were lined up on opposite sides of the cage and the ball was passed
from side to side.
“Swing your arms, fellows,” instructed the coach. “Act as though you
were going to throw the ball over the building. Get all your muscles
into play. Don’t hurry it, Smith. Slow and easy. That’s the idea. I
want you all to get so you can put the ball squarely into the next
fellow’s hands without making him move out of place for it.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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