Читать книгу Bad Boys, Bad Times. The Cleveland Indians and Baseball in the Prewar Years, 1937–1941 онлайн

46 страница из 96

Living in St. Louis, Moose had the opportunity to pal around with Joe Medwick, his counterpart with the Cardinals. Solters would proudly tell anybody listening that the two of them were the only Hungarian American ballplayers in Major League Baseball. Whenever they met, one would yell, “Hey Polack!” The other would yell back “How ya’ doin Hunkie?” Then both would sit down, have some laughs, and catch up on the latest gossip.

In 1936 Solters played to an even higher level, knocking in 134 runs, good for fifth in the American League. Manager Rogers Hornsby worked with Moose to get him to set his feet in the back of the batter’s box. The new stance allowed him to see the ball just a fraction longer. The results were positive, allowing Solters to make better contact and become a real threat. Cleveland took notice, starting talks with the Browns front office to acquire Moose. It would take a six-player deal, but Cleveland got their man for the 1937 season.

With Johnny Allen seemingly healthy again and Moose Solters asserting himself, the only Cleveland player still unable to contribute was Bob Feller. He had seen an army of doctors, yet his elbow still badly ached whenever he tried to throw. The first week of June, Cy Slapnicka announced Feller was leaving town to visit friends in Milwaukee and get some additional rest. Stuart Bell, the sportswriter for the Cleveland Press, did not buy any part of the story. Bell had been around the block more than a few times and knew when something other than the truth was being peddled. Investigating the flimsy tale, he discovered that Feller had an appointment with a specialist in arm injuries. The physician had invented a machine that could take one’s arm and massage it for an extended period. Though the treatment was experimental, Slapnicka had run out of ideas on how to fix the most valuable arm on the Indians pitching staff.