ONE OF THE BIGGEST
Harold is 16, since July. He was only 14 when he got the visiting job in April of '53. He was then classed as one of the biggest batboys Cleveland ever came up with: five feet nine inches and 154 pounds. (He'd already won a letter as an end on the Kirk Junior High team outside of Cleveland.) He goes into this World Series at 176 pounds on a six-foot-even frame, and quite a lot of it pure muscle.
Leaving his favorite team out of the picture for the moment, the hitter he most likes to see in action is—who else?—Ted Williams of the Boston Red Sox. During practice, when the Sox were in town, Harold crouched by the Indians' dugout and watched the great man from Back Bay way take his cuts. "He's got a rhythm you can't really describe," Harold says. "What a hitter."
Like every member of the Indians, Harold could find no substitute for the fierce and magnificent pleasure of beating the Yankees in a game, any game at all. "We like to beat everybody in the league, sure," Harold admits. "But boy! How it feels to beat those Yanks—you just feel good all over."
However, no matter how the Indians make out with the Giants in what is unendurably called the "autumnal classic," Harold has managed to achieve a job that only two other guys in history have achieved: a Cleveland batboy, working in a World Series. The name "Klug," in German, means "smart." That might have something to do with it. But also, let's not forget the Messrs. Lemon, Avila, Wynn, Rosen, Doby—and how about that Lopez?