didn’t smoke, pouring out double cokes for them; in short, Mac at his most charming. Two contracts were spread out on a table in one corner of the room. Evidently this time he meant business.
He lighted a cigarette. “Now, boys, I’m going to be frank with you; I’m going to put my cards on the table and take you both behind the scenes so you’ll understand why we cannot under any consideration pay you more than eleven thousand dollars. Let me explain. These figures I’m telling you are seen by no one except the owner and stockholders of the club. They concern things you maybe never thought about, you probably didn’t even know.
“Boys, we get, as the visiting team, twenty-three cents for every customer when we’re away from home. We pay out twenty-three cents for every customer to all visiting clubs at Ebbets Field. Those are National League rules. We have nothing to say about them. Now where does all the money we take in go? Last year we played to a million here at home and over a million on the road. Well, we spent $180,000 on salaries, yours and Fat Stuffs and Razzle’s and the Slugger’s and the rest. That doesn’t count what we pay our manager, the Doc, the rubbers, the clubhouse boy, and so forth and so on. Then we spent $19,856 for railroad fares. You travel well, don’t you, boys? Yep, and that costs us money. Your uniforms were worth exactly $4,626. We spent $8,111 for baseballs. Your bats alone cost the club $632.”
He spoke the words slowly, rolling over the figures on his tongue.
“I made out a check the other day to the Brooklyn Laundry for $6,789 for cleaning your uniforms, your underwear, and the towels. Away from home your hotel bills amounted to $17,146.”
He was certainly a wonderful man. Figures rippled from his lips as he continued.
“And so on. You like a nice, good bounding ball, don’t you, Spike, when you get set out there at short? You, too, Bob? So do the other boys. O.K. Our sprinkler system to keep the grass fresh and the turf solid so you’ll get good bounds meant $10,000 last summer. Know what the lights cost? About $1,000 a month. I spent two-fifty grand repairing the stands and having the posts sunk in concrete last year. Then there’s the amortization, depreciation, ushers’ wages, groundkeepers, loss due to rain...”
Bob was dazed by this Niagara of figures. So, too, was Spike. But not completely. He interrupted the owner. “Yessir, yessir, I can see you have to spend a lot of money.”
He suddenly produced a bill from his pocket and extended it toward the business man.
“Mr. MacManus, sir, here’s a five spot if it’ll help you any.”
MacManus started in his chair. He would either lose his temper or laugh heartily at himself. There was a moment of tension in the room, broken by his explosion of merriment.
He roared with laughter. “Spike, you’re a card! Well now, boys, what do you say? This’ll give you an inside, a really inside picture of the situation. You both started well for us but, of course, we have to recognize that you slumped a bit there toward the end.”
“Yessir. And we made forty-eight doubleplays while we were up with the club, Mr. MacManus. That’s... that’s...”
By the expression on his face, Spike saw the owner had been talking with Ginger Crane.
“Doubleplays! Doubleplays! Do doubleplays get a man on first? Hits win ballgames. Now, boys, I’m sure we understand each other. I’ve got just so much money, and even if you made a doubleplay in every chance you handled I couldn’t pay you five cents more. I’ve put back those ups in your contract; that means eleven between the two of you. But I want to be generous, I want to do the right thing by you. I appreciate you did a good job jumping in there the way you both did the end of the season. So suppose we say twelve. That gives you six apiece. Six for both of you, how’s that, hey?”
He looked at them closely, seeing Bob’s tense, eager expression. What the older boy
He lighted a cigarette. “Now, boys, I’m going to be frank with you; I’m going to put my cards on the table and take you both behind the scenes so you’ll understand why we cannot under any consideration pay you more than eleven thousand dollars. Let me explain. These figures I’m telling you are seen by no one except the owner and stockholders of the club. They concern things you maybe never thought about, you probably didn’t even know.
“Boys, we get, as the visiting team, twenty-three cents for every customer when we’re away from home. We pay out twenty-three cents for every customer to all visiting clubs at Ebbets Field. Those are National League rules. We have nothing to say about them. Now where does all the money we take in go? Last year we played to a million here at home and over a million on the road. Well, we spent $180,000 on salaries, yours and Fat Stuffs and Razzle’s and the Slugger’s and the rest. That doesn’t count what we pay our manager, the Doc, the rubbers, the clubhouse boy, and so forth and so on. Then we spent $19,856 for railroad fares. You travel well, don’t you, boys? Yep, and that costs us money. Your uniforms were worth exactly $4,626. We spent $8,111 for baseballs. Your bats alone cost the club $632.”
He spoke the words slowly, rolling over the figures on his tongue.
“I made out a check the other day to the Brooklyn Laundry for $6,789 for cleaning your uniforms, your underwear, and the towels. Away from home your hotel bills amounted to $17,146.”
He was certainly a wonderful man. Figures rippled from his lips as he continued.
“And so on. You like a nice, good bounding ball, don’t you, Spike, when you get set out there at short? You, too, Bob? So do the other boys. O.K. Our sprinkler system to keep the grass fresh and the turf solid so you’ll get good bounds meant $10,000 last summer. Know what the lights cost? About $1,000 a month. I spent two-fifty grand repairing the stands and having the posts sunk in concrete last year. Then there’s the amortization, depreciation, ushers’ wages, groundkeepers, loss due to rain...”
Bob was dazed by this Niagara of figures. So, too, was Spike. But not completely. He interrupted the owner. “Yessir, yessir, I can see you have to spend a lot of money.”
He suddenly produced a bill from his pocket and extended it toward the business man.
“Mr. MacManus, sir, here’s a five spot if it’ll help you any.”
MacManus started in his chair. He would either lose his temper or laugh heartily at himself. There was a moment of tension in the room, broken by his explosion of merriment.
He roared with laughter. “Spike, you’re a card! Well now, boys, what do you say? This’ll give you an inside, a really inside picture of the situation. You both started well for us but, of course, we have to recognize that you slumped a bit there toward the end.”
“Yessir. And we made forty-eight doubleplays while we were up with the club, Mr. MacManus. That’s... that’s...”
By the expression on his face, Spike saw the owner had been talking with Ginger Crane.
“Doubleplays! Doubleplays! Do doubleplays get a man on first? Hits win ballgames. Now, boys, I’m sure we understand each other. I’ve got just so much money, and even if you made a doubleplay in every chance you handled I couldn’t pay you five cents more. I’ve put back those ups in your contract; that means eleven between the two of you. But I want to be generous, I want to do the right thing by you. I appreciate you did a good job jumping in there the way you both did the end of the season. So suppose we say twelve. That gives you six apiece. Six for both of you, how’s that, hey?”
He looked at them closely, seeing Bob’s tense, eager expression. What the older boy
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