_Many a Pitcher's Heart has been Broken by the Cry from the Stands, "Take Him Out"--Russell Ford of the New York Yankees was Once Beaten by a Few Foolish Words Whispered into the Batter's Ear at a Critical Moment--Why "Rube" Marquard Failed for Two Years to be a Big Leaguer--The Art of Breaking a Pitcher into Fast Company._ A pitcher is in a tight game, and the batter makes a hit. Another follows and some fan back in the stand cries in stentorian tones: "Take him out!" It is the dirge of baseball which has broken the hearts of pitchers ever since the game began and will continue to do so as long as it lives. Another fan takes up the shout, and another, and another, until it is a chorus. "Take him out! Take him out! Take him out!" The pitcher has to grin, but that constant cry is wearing on nerves strung to the breaking point. The crowd is against him, and the next batter hits, and a run scores. The manager stops the game, beckons to the pitcher from the bench, and he has to walk away from the box, facing the crowd--not the team--which has beaten him. It is the psychology of baseball. Some foolish words once whispered into the ear of a batter by a clever manager in the crisis of one of the closest games ever played in baseball turned the tide and unbalanced a pitcher who had been working like a perfectly adjusted machine through seven terrific innings. That is also the "psychology of pitching." The man wasn't beaten because he weakened, because he lost his grip, because of any physical deficiency, but because some foolish words--words that meant nothing, had nothing to do with the game--had upset his mental attitude. The game was the first one played between the Giants and the Yankees in the post-season series of 1910, the batter was Bridwell, the manager was John McGraw, and the pitcher, Russell Ford of the Yankees. The cast of characters having been named, the story may now enter the block. Spectators who recall the game will remember that the two clubs had been battling through the early innings with neither team able to gain an advantage, and the Giants came to bat for the eighth inning with the score a tie. Ford was pitching perfectly with all the art of a master craftsman. Each team had made one run. I was the first man up and started the eighth inning with a single because Ford slackened up a little against me, thinking that I was not dangerous. Devore beat out an infield hit, and Doyle bunted and was safe, filling the bases. Then Ford went to work. He struck out Snodgrass, and Hemphill caught Murray's fly far too near the infield to permit me to try to score. It looked as if Ford were going to get out of the hole when "Al" Bridwell, the former Giant shortstop, came to the bat. Ford threw him two bad balls, and then McGraw ran out from the bench, and, with an autocratic finger, held up the game while he whispered into Bridwell's ear.