Читать книгу Rage. The Legend of "Baseball Bill" Denehy онлайн

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Pehota’s intentions were good, but as I look back on it now, I wish he had stayed in the dugout. On the next pitch I snapped off a curve as instructed and hit the batter in the foot. There went my perfect game. But in those two games, using the motion suggested by Bots Nekola, I went from a guy with a wild fastball to a pitcher who retired forty-one consecutive batters.

I went from this hard-throwing, grunting, 120 percent-throwing fastball motion to this 75 percent, sidearm, easy-whipping motion. When I pitched those two no-hitters, it was like I was playing catch in the outfield before the game. I actually felt let down, because I wasn’t getting the rush from having to exert myself, even though the results were better. It was almost like it was too easy.

Before the end of summer, the Red Sox brought me to Fenway Park, where I got to meet Carl Yastrzemski. Bots had signed him. Carl, who was in civilian clothes, took me up to Tom Yawkey’s box and introduced me to Mr. Yawkey. Mr. Yawkey asked my parents to have lunch with him while Carl welcomed me to the Red Sox, and he showed me around the clubhouse and introduced me to the players.