Read Online High Heat by Tim Wendel - Free Book Online

He won another three games in the 1912 World Series as the Red Sox defeated the New York Giants and Christy Mathewson in eight games (4-3-1, as Game Two that year ended in a 6–6 tie when called for darkness). For a single season, there was nobody better, or more popular, in the game than Wood.
    â€œThe whole world did love me that day, it seemed like,” Wood said years later. “It was my greatest season: 34 wins, 16 in a row and three more in the World Series. Then I hurt my hand and almost became a has-been.”
    For an Andy Warhol moment, the baseball world was as captivated by Wood’s backstory as it was by his pitching prowess. Wood, like Johnson, grew up in the West. While Johnson came of age in the oil patches of southern California and was toughed up a bit by his
time in Idaho, Wood grew up in southwest Colorado, a stone’s throw from such places as Lizard Head Pass and Slumgullion Gulch.
    â€œI see these western pictures on television and sometimes it just hits me,” Wood told Lawrence Ritter in The Glory of Their Times . “I actually lived through all that in real life. Sort of hard to believe, isn’t it?”
    So was how he broke into professional ball. By the time Wood was a teenager, his family had moved closer to civilization—actually Ness City, Kansas, about 60 miles north of Dodge City. Wood became the star pitcher on the town team, playing against squads from Scott City, High Point, and Wakeeney. Toward the end of his 16th summer, the Bloomer Girls came to Ness City. They were a barnstorming outfit that toured the country, and several of their top players were guys instead of girls. Rogers Hornsby and Rube Waddell’s brother were among those who donned wigs and the team’s baggy Turkish-style trousers, especially when the promoter wanted to cover side bets with the locals.
    The Bloomer Girls’ manager was impressed by Wood’s game and invited him to finish out the 1906 season with them. After getting over some initial confusion about the team’s configuration, Wood agreed. He played out the last three weeks of the season for $35. For games, his name was Lucy Tolton. Things went well except for the time when his wig flew off at the end of his violent windup and Wood narrowly made it out of town ahead of an angry mob. Yet, as they say, what doesn’t kill us can make us strong, and two seasons later Wood was pitching in the majors for the Red Sox.
    As often is the case in the realm of high heat, though, the line between tragedy and triumph can be a fine one. The 1912 season was the pinnacle of Wood’s pitching career. Within a few seasons after the Fenway showdown, his arm went dead, and Wood ended his 14-year career in the outfield.
    â€œI have seen Joe Wood pitch some days when I thought that he was faster than I,” Johnson later said, “and I believe that for two or three innings he has as much swiftness. But he could not hold it
during the game. He has a jerky motion, and it is this motion that weakens him.”
    As Wood’s career rapidly declined, Johnson kept rolling along. About the only fastball pitchers who came close to him in terms of velocity and longevity were Feller, Satchel Paige, and Nolan Ryan. As Wood was hampered by injuries, first a broken thumb and then a bum shoulder, Johnson led the league with a 36–7 mark in 1913 and was the American League’s top game winner four of the following five seasons. Still, “the Big Train” sometimes struggled to win the so-called big games. Perhaps that reputation began with the epic showdown against Wood. It could have been perpetuated by his easygoing manner. For it is one thing to be regarded as a good guy, even a saint. It is quite another to be known as a big-game pitcher, no matter how fast you can throw a baseball. As Johnson’s career wound down, he no longer led the league in victories, even though he continued to be the standard when it came to