Late in the season, while we still had a mathematical chance of winning our division, I began to realize that the front office had given up on us. Angrier than usual, I confided to Jack Herman, a reporter for the Globe-Democrat, that the top management had tossed in the towel. I went on at some length.
Bing Devine, our general manager, responded with a crusher. "The only reason the regulars are complaining," he said, "is that they are afraid of losing their jobs."
I think I had known it for months without admitting it to myself. Now I said to me, "Brother Flood, you are going to be traded. You have had it."
On October 71 was sitting in my apartment waiting for my nervous system to come down to earth now that the season was over.
The telephone sounded.
"Jim Toomey, Curt."
A chill entered my belly. Toomey was Devine's assistant.
"Curt, you've been traded to Philadelphia."