John Wiley's Whiskers Steal a 25–15 Ballgame

Another highly anticipated battle between the Jacobites and the self-satisfied Philistines took place yesterday afternoon at the Madison Street ball grounds. For one hour and forty minutes the struggle lasted, and when it was over the Philistines gathered up their scattered forces. “Where are we at?” The answer came back: “Beaten by a score of 25 to 15.”

Nobly did they struggle, executing plays that would have caused the military heroes of the hour to stand with mouths wide open and eyes full of wonder. Some people wondered how the players kept track of themselves.

The contest was something like a melodrama, with John Wiley to lighten it with comedy. Whenever he came to the bat the crowd yelled, and when he made a two-base hit pandemonium reigned. His waxed mustache glowed in the sunlight and his Parisian goatee rested on his chest until the two-base hit came; when he ran like a deer his whiskers floated in the breeze, much to the delight of the boys on the fence.

Outside of the comedy, there were points of special interest from a baseball standpoint. The Jacobites really played sharp ball in the last part of the game, when they made their runs, and the Philistines, whose team had been helped out by the acquisition of Gamble, of the S.A.C., and Mantor, of the old Maroons, made a spurt and ran their score from 2 to 15.

Frank Wiestling, who was the most sensational shortstop Harvard ever had, acted yesterday as if he were once more on the diamond at Cambridge playing against the blues of Yale. His stops and pick-ups were cleanly made in all sorts of positions, and the few overthrows he made to first base were easily excused.

Such a game as Ingersoll played at second! He must have wondered himself how he did it—four putouts and three assists, all of them in dashing style, and he never smiled. He batted as if his life depended on it. Cobb, the S.A.C. catcher, looked from the scorer’s box and turned green with envy. When Ingersoll stole bases after making hits, Cobb called for water and it was feared he was about to faint.

Then Pratt was a genuine surprise as a catcher. He took everything that big “Bill” Morris threw at the plate and during the first part of the game stopped men at bases in astonishing manner. Backus played first base in first-class style and finished the game behind the bat creditably. Catcher Van Brocklin was the star of the Philistines, and as the game progressed he stuck to his work with such grim determination that he was called the tragedian. Once Van Brocklin was the star catcher of Seattle, and now, although he does not play as much as in the days of yore, his interest causes him to witness every game he can conveniently.

Gus Small, the S.A.C. second baseman, made two errors, and one of them nearly caused Frank Twichell, the leader of the Philistines, to have convulsions. It happened in the first inning, just at the beginning of the game, when the 800 or perhaps 1,000 people were watching everything with eager eyes. They had some difficulty in taking their eyes off John Wiley, who was catching thrown balls with one hand. Backus had scored and Hart was on. Ingersoll then sent a scorcher at the redoubtable warrior Twichell. The warrior passed the ball with such precision that he actually held it fast and threw to second in time to put out Hart. Small dropped the ball, and Twichell breathed hard twice and went on “sawing wood.”

To make matters worse, the Jacobites showed a familiarity with Eames’ curves to the extent of six hits in the first inning. This, taken in connection with two errors by Twichell, to whom the balls insisted on coming, and one by the shortstop, netted twelve runs. Warrior Twichell perspired freely and urged his men to knock Morris, the big Jacobite, out of the box. Two runs were all the Philistines could count, and Warrior Twichell mopped his brow in consternation. Then he called Gamble, who is a mighty ball player, tricky at bat and on bases, and also Mantor, one of the old Maroons.

“Now,” said the Philistine, “we will wax ’em, and I will take a rest.” Like unto other great leaders, he got in the shade of the water bucket and sent his forces forth to battle for the second inning. “Only two runs for the Philistines,” said the messenger, as he reported to Twichell the line. The leader felt better, and as he took a chew of tobacco, thought that victory would yet perch on the Philistines’ banner. But it was not to be. The Jacobites slammed the balls varied by Eames until in the sixth inning, when the score stood 24 to 6 in favor of the Jacobites.

“It seems to me,” said Twichell, “that Morris is letting up; bat him for all you’re worth, men, and increase our score while we are in it.” Four runs they made in the seventh and the Jacobites scored once in the eighth.

In the eighth a horrible accident happened, and for a moment it was feared the game would have to be stopped. Small, the left-handed pitcher, was in the box for the Philistines, and he tried to knock a piece of flesh out of John Wiley’s head. John saw the ball coming and turned his back to the pitcher. When it struck every one heard it, and was surprised to see Wiley jump high in the air, grab the spot where he had been hit, and run to first base. The Philistines got four runs in the ninth inning, but the Jacobites were not dangerous competitors. Before the game it was announced that the insurance men, Mr. Heifner, had challenged the Jacobites to play a match game.