All that Lopez took off afterward was his cap. He sat with his feet on his desk, reading
The Sporting News
. The writers asked questions in near whispers and Lopez answered them in monosyllables.
Johnny Cooney stood in the doorway. No game was scheduled for the next day, and ordinarily the players would be free until Tuesday night, when they were scheduled to play the Yankees. However, there was a chance that Lopez, angry over the double defeat, might call a special practice session for the off day. Cooney spoke:
"Anything doing tomorrow, Al?"
Cooney turned away from the door and said to the players, silent in the mausoleum of the locker room, "Nothing doing tomorrow."
Lopez looked around at the silent baseball writers who had come in for the post-mortem.
"Every ball we hit was right at them," he said. "They made some great plays. Kell, and that guy in left." He shook his head.
He picked up a letter from his desk, a request from a friend in Indiana for tickets to a White Sox game in July, looked at it absently and put it down.
"That boy O'Dell pitched a good game for them," he said.
He began to undress, relaxing now. "They beat us twice," he stated, in tones of finality. "Those things happen. There's nothing you can do about it now."