for home," said Paige.
In Miami, home is
the Sir John Hotel, a comfortable hidey-hole where Paige baches while his wife
and five children wait for him at their four-bedroom residence in Kansas City.
There Satch winters, hunting and "playing leapfrog with my old
buddies," who pile in off the road. Paige gets along with his new
teammates, too, although he doesn't know their names. To Satch they include
Wild Man, Second Base and Loud Holler.
suits up for pregame drills when the Marlins are at home. But whenever Manager
Kerby Farrell looks out to the bullpen for help, there is the lean, dark man
throwing. If there's no trouble in sight, Paige isn't either; he's in the
stands with a buddy or meditating off by himself.
though, something happened which upset the aloof pitching man. The Marlins'
place in the standings was set before the first pitch of the last game and a
young Miami pitcher was out there just tossing baseballs, obviously unconcerned
whether the Havana batsmen lost them or not.
Paige was hopping
and he gave the youngster a piece of his mind when the ball game was over.
Satch is still
bothered by this incident and by the attitude of many of the generation's
no man can avoid being born average," he says. "But there ain't no man
got to be common."
Paige never was and never will be, not even in the county stockade.
The Rev. Walter
Jessup, a left-handed Methodist minister, took the lead in the 19th Annual
Left-Handers' Golf Tournament when he came in with a 2-under-par 70 the other
Saturday morning. That was the trouble. It was Saturday. "I certainly
enjoyed playing," said Pastor Jessup, as he disqualified himself from the
next day's round, "but the church comes first.... I love the game, but not
enough to offend any church members by playing on the Sabbath."