For two consecutive evenings, a queer, concussive sound has pealed through the firmament, causing confused citizens to look sky-ward, scattering rooks and pigeons from their perches, and waking babes from their slumber. But the clamor is not a strange arrangement of Nature’s forces -- it is the echo of the tremendous clouts issued from the Bostons’ bats!
The local squad has slain its challengers with a spasm of four-ply drives, leaving no doubt as to the mighty swats that await opposing hurlers. First to fall: The New Yorks, who scowled as Manuel, “The Wonder” Ramirez sent the pill sailing into the grandstand not once, but twice! Eight bags for the Wonder!
Next came the squad from the dusty wilds of Texas, contesting their base-ball skills on the green turf of Fenway Park. But our boys were not in a hospitable mood, and on this night, the conclusive swing came from a bat that had been quiet of late. Colossus Ortiz approached the dish in the third frame with the bags heavy with red-stocking’d gents. Then he struck with devastating effect, launching the sphere over the high fence of left-field, sending himself and his three team-mates full-circuit. A glorious blast!
A few chapters later, the diminutive infielder Dustin, “Li’l Hands” Pedroia collected four bags of his own when he slammed the pill into the night. Nearly the opposite of Colossus in stature and girth, this tiny tempest must consume flagons of grit before each match to render himself such a terrible force on the diamond.
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