Read Online Fear Strikes Out by Jim Piersall, Hirshberg - Free Book Online

with much was a Waterbury schoolmate named Pat Delaney. She and I grew up together. Our folks were friends, and I guess they hoped maybe we’d get married some day. We liked each other all right, but if I ever had the remotest idea of getting serious with her, I forgot all about it one night during my senior year in high school.
    “What are you going to do after you graduate?” she asked.
    “Gee, I don’t know. Play ball, I suppose.”
    “Ballplayers are traveling all the time, aren’t they?”
    “Yes.”
    “I wouldn’t want to marry a ballplayer. Ballplayers aren’t home enough.”
    “Well,” I said, “I’m going to be a ballplayer.”
    And that was that.
    Every so often I stole looks at the little redhead with Tony. Her hair was really light brown, I suppose, but it had a reddish cast to it. She had huge china-blue eyes, shining white teeth, high cheekbones, and soft white skin. I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, but all I could do that night was sit and admire her from a distance.
    “Nice, huh?”
    Smitty was pointing towards her. I reddened and clenched my fists but I didn’t say anything. I’m mad at Smitty and I don’t even know the girl. And all he said was what I was thinking.
    At the Tiptoe the next night, I said to Tony, “That your girl—the one you were with last night?”
    “Heck, no,” he replied. “I don’t have any girl. She’s just an old friend.”
    “Who is she, what does she do, and when are you going to introduce us?”
    “Her name’s Mary Teevan. She’s training to be a nurse. You like her, eh? She’s a nice girl. I’ll take her to the ball game and introduce you to her later if you’ll promise to hit a home run tomorrow night.”
    “I’ll promise anything.”
    The next night I hit a home run my first time up. When Smitty and I walked into the Tiptoe after the game, Tony beckoned to us. His cousin Bob Howley, who drove us home every night, was with him, along with Mary and a couple I’d seen before but had never met. The girl’s name was Ann O’Brien and the boy with her was Dan Kuchar. I didn’t pay much attention to either of them. I was too busy edging Tony away from the chair beside Mary. He caught on quickly and made room for me. I sat down, tried to think of something sensationally clever to say, grinned foolishly at Mary, took a deep breath and finally managed a brilliantly conceived, “Holy cow!”
    Mary laughed.
    “I liked your home run,” she said. It was the first time I’d ever heard her speak. Her voice sounded just the way I expected—neat and small and calm, yet clear and direct.
    “So did I,” I replied. Then I said, “I wouldn’t have hit it except I wanted to meet you.”
    “Tony told me. He knows lots of girls. Get him to introduce you to one a day. It’ll make you the greatest home-run hitter of all time.”
    A day or so later, I was walking along Washington Street, the main thoroughfare in Scranton, when I heard a girl say, “Holy cow! Look who’s here.”
    It was Mary, smiling as she used my favorite expression. She was on her way to the hospital with Ann, who was also in training to be a nurse. I persuaded them to stop in at a soda fountain, but they were in a hurry and only had time for a Coke. While they were drinking, I gobbled up two sundaes and was just starting on an ice-cream soda when they got up to leave. The last thing Mary said as she walked out was, “Holy cow! What an appetite!”
    I may not have liked the way he said it, but Smitty was right. This is a nice girl. This is more than that. This is the girl for me. Mary Teevan. Catholic—like me. That’s good. I’m going to marry a Catholic. Marry? How can I think of marriage? I’ve got enough other responsibilities without taking on any more. I have to take care of Mom and Dad. But I wonder. Maybe I can’t think of marriage now. But I want to know more about Mary Teevan. What does she like? What doesn’t she like? Where is she from? How