Derbies? I'm More of a Boater Man

Loyal readers may recall my chagrin at the arrival of the annual Four-Ply-Drive Derby.

My opinion has not changed on this sweltering July evening, even tho’ our home-town hero "The Colossus" captained the American League squad chosen to whange away at the dew drops delivered by their hand-picked hurling partners.

No, I would prefer to get this mid-season pause behind us “toot sweet,” as the vaudeville joke-slingers say.

July Skyrockets!

30,000 perplexed Rooters rushed home from Fenway Park yester-day evening to check the date on their wall calendars. Did we not, as a nation, just complete our Independence Day celebrations, or was Father Time somehow turned about to revisit the Festival of the 4th?

Their bafflement was understandable, given the pyrotechnic spectacle performed by the Boston bats-men: A sextet of screamers!

Hapless Oriole hurlers held the Bostons’ clouting prowess much too cheaply, as evidenced by the repeated launching of the sphere into the July night sky. Hub-area reflexologists will undoubtedly be overwhelmed to-day with patients seeking relief from the crick-necks developed after watching six pills arc over the stadium fences!

Yet no Rooter will complain for his discomfort, as the offensive explosion propelled the Red Stockings to the pinnacle of the Eastern Division standings. Let us enjoy this lofty perch a while, gents!

All Hail the Adjutant General!

He makes opposing hurlers as comfortable as a lamplighter in a gunpowder factory. His burly frame handles the ash like a Maestro twirling a baton, conducting the pill sky-ward in scorching arcs over the grand stands. He is the Bostons newest hero, and certainly one of the finest swat-artists this Rooter has ever observed: Adrian “The Adjutant General” Gonzalez!

His exploits at the dish would seem unlikely even in the pages of a dime-novel, let alone a certified fact from the base-ball record book: Five full-circuit clouts in the past four contests!

Such production is the result of his uncanny ability to approach each swing like a general plotting a campaign. Note to opposing twirlers: If you have beaten the AG before with high screamers, attempting the same delivery again is a fool’s errand.

Few things in life are ever as fine as advertised. Duffy’s Pure Malt Whiskey and the fried Hamburger steak sandwiches of the Fat Boy roadside tavern come immediately to mind for their consistent ability to exceed expectations and remind us of all that is good on this muddled planet. But now, this Rooter can tally another entry on his list of life’s “sure things”: The Adjutant General’s clouting prowess!

Colossal clouts!

Here is the measure of greatness!

Our hero, the Colossus, delivers one four-ply drive to knot the tally in the second frame. Then he repeats his feat of swatting to secure the victory in the final chapter!

Small children stand slack-jawed! Ladies swoon! Opponents cringe and cry! Rooters rejoice!

And the sky was split with the force of his clouting!

A terrible booming sound has echoed far and wide across the land. The common man can be forgiven for assuming it is the sound of thunder pealing through the leaden New England skies.

But Rooters know the true source of the racket: Our mighty swat-artist, "Colossus" Ortiz, has reclaimed the power of his fearsome ash-stick and launched a collection of window-rattling four-ply drives. He is now responsible for 5 full-circuit clouts in the month of June.

Yesterday, he delivered his most impressive blast yet -- walloping the pill into the teeth of a gale and over the Green Monster Edifice! Prior to his display, many seasoned base-ball men assumed that no mortal could reach the fences in such a blow! But the Colossus has been known to make hay of such narrow-minded predictions.

Later, like Prometheus stealing fire, the journeyman between-sacker Nick Green followed our Hero's lead by ending the contest with a round-tripper of his own. The assembled throng (Yours Truly among them) let forth a rousing "Huzzah" and raised their dripping Mackintosh sleeves skyward to recognize the achievement.

Opponents beware: The Colossus is standing in the batters-box with mayhem on his mind again.

Sideshow in the Stadium

Base-ball’s mid-season respite from match playing takes a turn toward the carnivalesque to-night, with the folly known as the Four-Ply-Drive Derby.

As an aficionado of the full-circuit clout, I confess mild interest in the festivities -- at least to a point. To follow the arc of a scalded pill from the crack of the ash up into the firmament and beyond the confines of the ball-yard is to witness a miracle of the physical sciences.

But removed from the other beauties of the game – twirling, glove-work and base-running – clouts become cause stripped of effect. To-night, there will be no “runs” put on the board, no “ties” broken with one mighty swing, no conclusive blasts in the final chapter to secure victory for our home-town boys.

Instead, the swat artists will stand in the batsman’s box and clobber slow hurl upon slow hurl, until they resemble less a ball-player than a Fiji mermaid or bearded lady wielding the lumber. I will gawk for a moment, but in time, my thoughts will drift toward a half-season of meaningful clouts yet to come.

Thank you, Wonder!

No sooner had I wired over a dispatch decrying the lack of clouts from the local nine than Manuel "The Wonder" Ramirez answered with a tremendous four-ply drive deep into the New England summer night.

As the pill screamed across the sky, three Bostons completed their circuit of the diamond to "tie" the game at 5 points apiece. The Wonder had done it again!

To-day's match will be contested under the brutal mid-day sun, with Gen. Joshua P. Beckett assuming the hurling duties. All Rooters should report immediately to the ball-park or a local tavern (preferably those with the wireless) to hoot on the hometown squad while staying cool with a fine tankard of suds.

Clout! Clout! Clout! Clout!

In Sunday's deciding match between the Bostons and the Reds of Cincinnati, there was one single, immutable truth recognized by the thousands in attendance: Trotting out a starting hurler named "Homer" is not in a team's best interest.

Indeed, home-runs were the order of the day for the crack Boston squad, with even the littlest of the clouters swatting the pill over out-field fenceposts. "Lil' Hands" Pedroia and “Navajo” Jac Ellsbury burst four-ply drives from their ash sticks, and crafty veteran J.D. "Aches and Pains" Drew continuing his torrid affair with the full-circuit clout. Add a deeply powdered shot by Covelli "K.O." Crisp, our pint-sized pugilist, and the Bostons' order was shown to be particularly robust amid the sweltering Ohio summer sun.

But he-man heroics was not the only recipe in the kitchen. For the Bostons' fleet feet provided an extra dose of vigor and another means of posting numbers on the score-board. Take Ellsbury, the gazelle of the roster, whose snatched both second and third base in succession in the first inning after beginning the chapter with a one-bagger. That twin burgling surely placed the Cincinnati's on their collective heels, for the team never recovered and ended the day with nary a "run" on the board. Final score: 9-0, Bostons.

Today, the Bostons continue their swing through the unfamiliar National League parks as they visit the home of the Philadelphia Philadelphias. An exciting match, to be sure!

Two mighty shots, and down go the Kansans!

There’s no more devastating blow in all of sport than a full circuit clout delivered with a full complement of base-runners on the bags. One such wallop is a rare and delightful enough sight. Two in the same contest? That is an embarrassment of riches, and a sure road to ruin for the hapless squad that receives such a battering.

And so, down went the Kansas City nine to the Bostons’ heavy batting. Ol’ Aches and Pains Drew and Mike “Two-Bags” Lowell made the most of their turns at the plate, when the diamond was studded with red-stocking’d gents. Not even our volatile, hydrogen-fueled relief corps could surrender the lead achieved on the occasion of those two mighty swats.

Onward to California, where our boys must again battle the discomforts of the cramped Pullman car, unfamiliar grounds, and the questionable availability of Duffy’s Pure Malt Whiskey. Let’s hope the heavy batting continues tonight, to support the always erratic twirling of Knuckles Wakefield.

Death by Four-Ply Drive!

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.