Standing, Von shook his hand enthusiastically. "I got out last month," he said, grinning.
"Gee, you're lucky. Ours didn't end until last week. It sure is good to see somebody my own age." Miller took a step closer and almost whispered, "What's it like up here?"
"Aw, it's not much different than pitching anywhere," answered Von with authority. "What I mean is, you just pitch the same way you always do. Now if you were up here as a hitter, then you might have to adjust yourself to a new kind of pitching. But a pitcher just throws the way he always does."
"You've been doing all right," said Miller. "Are they going to start you soon?"
"I don't know."
"If they're going to start you, when do they let you know?"
"I don't know that, either. Nobody's ever told me before."
Butch Yatkeman, the Cardinals' clubhouse man, came by and spotted the holes in Von's socks. "Hey, get those socks off! You don't want to get blisters." Yatkeman produced a fresh pair, and Von took the old ones off.
"Hey, Von," yelled someone from the far end of the locker room. "Hutch wants to see you."
Von, with one sock on, one off, slid into his shower clogs and clopped toward the manager's office. By now there were more players present and, as Von passed them, they winked at each other. No one talked.