Oddly enough, one of the few quiet men in Detroit the afternoon of that first home game was Bill Norman, who had spent his time with one foot perched on the dugout steps checking some notes on a pad in his hand, watching the play and tapping a nervous foot. "You don't have to go around popping off when you're winning," he observed to a reporter.
There was another manager nearby who was not so quiet. "You fellers didn't think he was so good when he came here, did you?" he roared at the sportswriters. "Well, he's running the club good. He hasn't been mixed up on anything, and he's shown us fellers some pitching. What you doing around here anyway? You won't find a winner here."
The speaker's name was something like Standall, or Stendahl, or—Stengel, that was it. Casey Stengel. Who's he? Well, at this point we're not quite sure ourselves, but we think he's the one that took that Norman Tiger by the tail the seventh time around and knocked all his teeth out again with a 15-0 victory.
Challenge and Response
In the ageless needling between the sexes—junior division—it can be safely declared that two classic characters are the 11-year-old girl and her 9-year-old brother. Such a pair were overheard the other day in a drive-in near Chicago's Comiskey Park, where sister and brother huddled over double malteds after a double-header. We record it here as a rare example of victory for the 9-year-old male in discussions of this sort, whether the baseball development it advances is ever adopted or not.
"Nellie Fox looked like he had the mumps," the sister said. "Only he kept moving them from one side to the other."
"That wasn't mumps," the brother said, "That was tobacco."
"Baseball players," their mother broke in, "have idiosyncrasies, just like the rest of us."
Sister regarded brother thoughtfully. "I wonder if you'll have any idiosyncrasies," she said, pronouncing each syllable carefully, "when you're a big league player."