The High School Pitcher; or, Dick & Co. on the Gridley DiamondHancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving)
General
The High School Pitcher; or, Dick & Co. on the Gridley Diamond
Hancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving)
Baseball -- Juvenile fiction; School sports -- Juvenile fiction; Teenage boys -- Juvenile fiction
"But see here, fellows," urged Dick Prescott, "just try to keep
one idea in mind, please. There's a good deal of objection, every
year, that athletics are allowed to interfere with studies. Now,
as soon as the end of recess is called to-day, let's every one
of us go back with our minds closed to baseball. Let us all keep
our minds right on our studies. Why can't we six help to prove
that interest in athletics puts the scholarship mark up, not down?"
"We can," nodded Dave Darrin. "Good! I like that idea. We'll
simply go ahead and put our scholarship away up over where it
is at present."
To this the other chums agreed heartily.
Luce, the coach for baseball, was one of the under submasters.
He had made a record at college, for both baseball and scholarship.
He was a complete enthusiast on the game of the diamond. The
year before he had trained the school nine to a record that beat
anything in the High School line in the whole state. His bulletin
announced that he intended to try to make the coming nine the
best yet. It didn't say that, in so many words, but the bulletin
implied it.
Fred Ripley did not hit upon the idea of improved scholarship.
Instead, that young man went into two classes, after recess,
and reported "not prepared." Then he settled back into a brown
study of his chances in baseball.
"I don't suppose Dick & Co. will have the nerve to try for anything
better than the second nine," muttered Fred to himself. "Still,
one can never tell what that crowd will have the nerve to do!"
School out, Fred hurried home faster than was his wont. He caught
his father just as the latter was leaving the lunch table.
"Dad, can I have a few minutes' talk with you about one of my
ambitions?" pleaded Fred.
"Certainly, my boy," replied the wealthy, retired lawyer. "I'm
glad, indeed, to hear that you have any ambitions. Come into
the library, if you can let your luncheon go that long."
"If you don't mind, Dad, I'd rather eat while I talk," urged Fred.
"I have to be back at school before three."
"What---under discipline?" inquired the lawyer.
"No, sir; it's baseball that I wish to talk about."
"Well, then, Fred, what is it?" asked his father.
"Why, sir, we're going to get together on baseball, this afternoon.
The start for the season is to be made early this year. Gridley
expects to put forth the finest High School nine ever."
"I'm glad to hear that," nodded the lawyer. "School and college
athletics, rightly indulged in, give the budding man health, strength,
courage and discipline to take with him out into the battle of
life. We didn't have much in the way of athletics when I was
at college, but I appreciate the modern tendency more than do
some men of my age."
Fred, though not interested in his father's praise of athletics
waited patiently until his parent had finished.
"I'm pretty sure, Dad, I can make the chance of being the star
pitcher on the school team for this coming season, if only you'll
back me up in it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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