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

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Clyde said, “For God’s sake, if you’re going to lose the perfect game, don’t walk the son of a bitch.”

My first pitch after that was a strike, and my second pitch was a strike, and on the third pitch, the Jamestown pitcher hit a line drive back up the middle that struck me in the face. I was knocked out of the game, and for a couple of days my face was swollen. Oh yeah, I lost my perfect game.

Once I got the okay from the doctor to play again, my next challenge was to pitch without fear of getting hit by a batted ball. The first time back on the mound, I pitched and ducked, pitched and ducked, pitched and ducked, until Clyde came out to the mound to talk to me.

“You can’t pitch that way,” he said. “Throw naturally.”

I hadn’t realized what I was doing. Clyde got me through the game, and I had a terrific year.

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NOT LONG AFTER I RETURNED HOME FROM

“No problem,” said Murphy. “Call the governor of Connecticut and let him know, and he’ll take care of it.”

When my dad came home, I told him about Murphy telling me to call the governor.