||Announcer: Well sir, it’s
late afternoon as we enter the small house half-way up in the next block
now, and here in the kitchen we find Mrs. Victor Gook and her son, Mr.
Rush Gook. This latter individual has just entered from out of doors and
at the moment is lightly tossing his cap underneath the sink. Listen:
SADE: All right; go pick that
RUSH: I plan to leave again
SADE: Go pick it up. Call that
civilized? —a monstrous big high school boy throwin’ his hat on the floor
like a pigpen? We got hooks.
RUSH: Yeah, but hooks is all
the way off in the front-room hall an’ you hate to have people tramp over
your rugs so I should think---
SADE: You know I don’t mean
the front room hall hooks. Your hat can hang on the hooks in the cellarway.
RUSH: Yes’n a guy’s liable
to miss his step an’ fall down the stairs. Sixty-nine fatal accidents of
the nature occurred in Cleveland, Ohio, during the month of---.
SADE: Oh, scoot. Argue, argue,
RUSH: [moving off] Certainly
been a fine day outside.
SADE: Hasn’t it though?
RUSH: [moving off] Around
noon it was just plane hot.
SADE: Uh-huh. Mr. Gumpox came
through the alley an’ I noticed he had his coat folded up an’ layin’ beside
him on the seat of the garbage wagon.
RUSH: [off a way] Mom,
I don’t see any hook. They’re all full of overalls an’ aprons an’ junk.
SADE: You’ll find a place if
ya look. There’s squillions of nails there. Hey, what’s your fathers an’
Mr. Drummond doin’ so much talkin’ about?
RUSH: Where are they?
SADE: Garbage box. Just more’n
wavin’ their arms around.
RUSH: [returning] They
weren’t there when I come past just now.
SADE: Prob’ly walked home together
an’ stopped by the garbage box to finish their talk.
RUSH: [almost up] If
they’re talkin’ about baseball they never will finish.
RUSH: What they doin’?
SADE: [giggles] Glarin’ at
each other an’ makin’ signs an’ doublin’ their fists all up. See out the
RUSH: [chuckles] Uh-huh.
SADE: Looks like they’re almost
RUSH: Let’s raise the window
RUSH: They’re talkin’ baseball
all right. I could tell hands tied behind me---
SADE: Why do they get so excited?
RUSH: [chuckles] I don’t
SADE: Person’d think one had
stole the other one’s pocketbook or bumped into his automobile or something.
SADE: Baseball’s just a game
RUSH: Well, yes an’ no. It’s
kind of a business, too. Professional baseball players go down to the diamond
after dinner just like Gov goes down to the office. They got wives an’
SADE: Guess the argument’s
just about over. Here comes Gov toward the house.
RUSH: He acts like Mr. Drummond
got the best of him. See the little quick steps he takes an’ the way his
SADE: [giggles] Uh-huh.
RUSH: That’s the expression
he gets when he comes home an’ you tell him you’ve made arrangements for
you an’ him to go with Mr. An’ Mrs. Stembottom to the Bijou an’ see Gloria
SADE: [laughs] Yeah.
RUSH: Let’s knock on the window
and give him a jolly wave of the hand.
SADE: You just want to aggravate
him some more?
RUSH: [chuckles] No.
SADE: [giggles] Ya do
to. Lands, baseball. What is there to it to get so upset about?
RUSH: Oh, there’s thousands
of ins an’ outs.
SADE: Maybe for kids. But grown-up
men like Gov an’ Mr. Drummond—what do they care?
RUSH: You just don’t comprehend
the National Pastime, Mom.
SADE: I guess I don’t.
RUSH: See, it’s the Big Leagues
that interest Gov an’ Mr. Drummond. Here we got a bunch of large cities
all represented by baseball team. New York, Chicago, Boston, Philadelphia—[door
SADE: [raises voice]
Hello there, mister.
VIC: [cheerily enough]
Hi, everybody. How’s tricks?
SADE: All right.
RUSH: [as door closes]
I must of missed ya along the alley some place, Gov. I got home about two
minutes before you did.
VIC: Drummond an’ I saw you
up ahead. We didn’t holler an’ ask ya to join us because we were in no
mood for crude company.
RUSH: I see.
VIC: [to Sade] Paper
SADE: I doubt it. Boy very
seldom shows up this early. What were you an’ Mr. Drummond havin’ such
a to-do about?
SADE: Just now by the garbage
box. We saw you through the window.
VIC: What makes ya think we
were havin’ what you are pleased to call a “to-do”?
RUSH: Never saw so much arm
wavin’ in my life.
VIC: The arm wavin’ you saw
through the window will in no way unbalance the equilibrium of the world.
Life will go on as before.
SADE: No, but a person watchin’
would get the idea you fellas were about to have a fight.
VIC: That may come to pass
one of these days. [to himself] The big boob.
SADE: Who--Mr. Drummond?
VIC: Yes, Mr. Drummond.
SADE: Are ya mad at him?
VIC: I wouldn’t exactly condescend
to get mad at a creature so handicapped. Mr. Drummond is short the normal
quota of brains. Mr. Drummond moves helplessly in a fog of stupidity. Mr.
Drummond, in short, is a halfwit.
SADE: [giggles] Did
you tell him that?
VIC: I intimated as much—an’
more—only I couched my barbs with such subtlety they went over his head
like soft summer clouds.
RUSH: Baseball, huh, Gov?
VIC: How’s that?
RUSH: You an’ him were discussin’
VIC: One could hardly refer
to it as a discussion. I’d vouchsafe a thoughtful opinion an’ Drummond’d
come back with a splatter of meaningless words boorishly strung together.
RUSH: But it was baseball you
were talkin’ about?
RUSH: [chuckles] See,
SADE: I was just askin’ Rush,
Vic, how grown-up men can work theirself into a frenzy about such stuff.
VIC: Am I worked into a frenzy?
SADE: You acted like you were
worked into something out by the garbage box just now. You an’ Drummond
VIC: What did Mr. Rush reply
when you quizzed him?
SADE: [giggles] He said
he didn’t know.
VIC: That would be his rejoinder
when quizzed on any topic, I believe.
RUSH: [chuckles] Aw,
c’mon, Gov, don’t take it out on me.
SADE: [to Vic] No, but
really. If there was a baseball eleven in this town an’ your brother was
in it or somebody an’ a fella run down your brother an’ his baseball eleven,
I could halfway see why you might let yourself be upset. But these baseball
elevens in Chicago an’ around. What do you care?
VIC: Baseball, Sade, is a strong
SADE: Is it?
VIC: Baseball is a wholesome
vent for excess nervous energy.
SADE: [giggles] Prob’ly
is if you’re fullback on the team or somethin’. But all you an’ Mr. Drummond
can do is talk about it. I always think of baseball as a game Rush an’
the kids play over Tatman’s vacant lot. Can’t understand why grown-up men
should lose sleep because New York beats Pontiac.
VIC: You can understand why
grown men would be interested in science, can’t ya?
SADE: Is baseball science?
SADE: I never knew it.
VIC: I expect not. However,
baseball is a science an’ a mighty fascinating one.
RUSH: He’s right there, Mom.
You take when, say, there’s a man on first base an’ no outs. O.K., the
next batter’ll attempt a bunt. That means hit the ball easy. In cold blood
this batter’s cuttin’ his own throat. He wants to be put out. He’s desirous
of advancing the man on first to second, see?
SADE: No. The whole business
is Greek to me.
RUSH: I could make it clear
in a few minutes’ time.
SADE: Don’t bother. [to Vic]
Is that what you an’ Mr. Drummond were arguing about—the science of it?
VIC: Not exactly, no. We were
tryin’ to get together on a little investment but we couldn’t reach an
SADE: [quickly on the alert]
VIC: How ya mean, ‘money’?
SADE: You’re not gonna put
money on the baseball?
VIC: I still don’t get your
SADE: You’re not gonna—send
money to Chicago—to hire a baseball fella to—kick a homerun or somethin’,
VIC AND RUSH: [laugh]
RUSH: You don’t know the first
thing about baseball, Mom.
SADE: I know it.
RUSH: [to Vic] Imagine
sendin’ to a dollar to Lou Gehrig an’ tellin’ him to knock one over the
VIC: [negative] Uh-huh
SADE: Well, what was that about
VIC: I don’t recall mentioning
SADE: You said you an' Mr.
VIC: Oh. Well since him an’
I both are interested in the old apple an’ also because we could use a
little exercise now an’ then, it was my idea for us to go in cahoots an’
buy a pitcher’s glove for me an’ a catcher’s mitt for him an’ we’d play
catch evenings after supper out in the alley.
VIC: See, summer’s comin’ on
an’ we’ll have lotsa time to play before it gets dark nights.
SADE: Uh-huh. Do baseball gloves
VIC: Oh, depends on the quality
ya buy. I expect we could pick up the pitcher’s glove an’ the catcher’s
mitt both for less than ten dollars.
SADE: There’s baseball stuff
of Rush’s down in the basement by the bushel.
VIC: Kid’s junk. What we want
is regular standard big-league equipment.
VIC: Won’t that be kinda nice
for me? Give me a chance to exercise an’ loosen up the old arm.
SADE: I should think you could
play with Rush as well as with Mr. Drummond.
VIC: Rush couldn’t catch me.
SADE: Couldn’t what?
VIC: Catch me. He couldn’t
hold onto the ball when I threw it. I’ve got a steamer that’d tear his
arm off of I ever let loose with it.
RUSH: I never witnessed that
steamer you brag about.
VIC: No. Because I never endangered
your life by throwin’ it at ya. They usta say, back in Dixon, my steamer
would go through a half-inch solid oak board.
RUSH: I’m from Missouri.
SADE: Well—what was it you
an’ Mr. Drummond argued about?
VIC: That boob.
SADE: Didn’t he want to put
up his share of the money?
VIC: He wants to wear the pitcher’s
VIC: He wants to wear the pitcher’s
glove. Wants me to do the catchin’. Imagine that? Drummond posin’
as a hurler?
SADE: I don’t know what you’re
RUSH: I do.
VIC: Explain to your mother.
RUSH: [chuckling] Mom,
here we got Gov an’ Mr. Drummond.
RUSH: They decide wouldn’t
it be dandy to a pitcher’s glove an’ a catchers mitt an’ play catch out
in the alley evenings.
SADE: I caught on that much.
RUSH: But here’s the rub—[chuckles]
… both of ‘em wanta pitch.
SADE: Throw the ball?
SADE: Well, lands, when
ya play catch ya throw the ball back an’ forth, don’t ya?
RUSH: Sure—only the guy that’s
wearin’ the pitcher’s glove gets to whirl around fancy an’ wind up an’
let loose with all he’s got. While the guy with the catcher’s mitt only
has the privilege of catchin’ the ball an’ tossin’ it back.
VIC: The point is, kiddo, that
Drummond has neither that Drummond has neither the mentality or the physique
to work on the mound. He hasn’t got the arm an’ he hasn’t got the brain.
SADE: [helpless] I don’t
RUSH: May I put it in a nutshell
for ya, Mom?
RUSH: It’s simply this. [chuckles]
Gov an' Mr. Drummond each want to wear the pitcher’s glove. Neither one
will even think of wearin the catcher’s mitt.
SADE: [to Vic] Is that
SADE: Well, if you’re gonna
buy both things, can’t you take turns wearin’ the pitcher’s glove an’ the
VIC: [obstinately] No.
SADE: You mean to tell me that
two great big grown-up men with offices an’ families can jump at each other’s
throat over a thing like that—who gets to be the pitcher?
VIC: [stubborn] Sure.
SADE: Is that baseball, Rush?
RUSH: [chuckles] Uh-huh.
SADE: Is that science?
Announcer: Which concludes
another brief interlude at the small house half-way up in the next block.
First Broadcast in 1938