With Dave gone there was no one to turn to for advice, no one who could help when he had new batters to face, nobody to whose room he could go in the evening when he felt on the spot as his winning record grew each time he took the box. And with his record, the strain. Because now everyone knew about the Kid from Tomkinsville. Fans in other towns poured out merely to see whether he’d add another game to his winning list, and opposing teams invariably put more punch into their attack in the hopes of breaking the spell. The strain was general. The whole squad felt it. With the team in first place by half a game one day and trailing the Cincinnati Reds by a game the next day, every pitch, every throw to first, every catch in the outfield, was vital. Moreover the break between the first and second division became sharper as New York, goaded on by Murphy, and Chicago, with good-natured Earl Bartlett, their catcher and manager, pulling them along, came closer and closer. Gabby was like a mechanical toy wound up and unable to stop.
What do You think about Kid From Tomkinsville (2011)?
