The Pirates filed past our dugout, looking no more enthusiastic than the crowd. Don Hoak's appearance drew some expected booing. Then, as Walter (Moose) Moryn walked by, Freese yelled to him, "Hey, Moose, when you're done with that head I want to mount it!"
Joey Jay further dampened any Pirate holiday spirit by pitching a three-hitter. Freese hit a home run in the fifth to give Jay all the help he needed at bat. Jay failed to get any base hits himself, for which he was needled by Maloney, who had hit safely in each of his starts.
"I get 'em only when I need 'em," Jay said.
The trainer gave me a Dexedrine "bomber" to keep me awake for the bridge game on the long plane trip to Chicago and San Francisco, and we left by bus for the airport after the ball game. Just as we crossed over the Ohio River bridge to Kentucky, Avery Robbins, our traveling secretary, said, "Broz, you didn't make the All-Star team. I had to make travel plans for the guys that did. Don't tell anybody until they release it to the press. Sorry. You deserved it."
"Well, maybe we'll win the pennant," I said.
At the airport we had a 45-minute wait for the plane. I walked to the bar, ordered a Martini—"make it a double"—and drowned myself in self-pity.
I stared at the mirror. "With a head like that, how could you expect to make an All-Star team?" I thought. My smile turned into a horselaugh. The horse sounded like a manager I played for 10 years before. He had said: " Brosnan, you don't belong in baseball. Quit, why don't you!"
"That's a manager for you," I said to my reflection. "They pick the pitchers for the All-Star Game. How could you expect to make it!"
"So you rationalize," said the mirror me. "There are 80 pitchers in the league and you're making yourself out to be one of the top eight. Is that it?"
"Right!" I said, almost aloud. "Let me have another Martini, please," I said to the bartender.