portions of the fence at the Polo Grounds were
broken down by patrons who insisted on gaining entrance, and most of the
police of New York were present to keep order. They had their clubs
unlimbered, too, acting more as if on strike duty than restraining the
spectators at a pleasure park. Last of all, that night, after we had lost
the game, the report filtered through New York that Fred Merkle, then a
youngster and around whom the whole situation revolved, had committed
suicide. Of course it was not true, for Merkle is one of the gamest
ball-players that ever lived.

My part in the game was small. I started to pitch and I didn't finish. The
Cubs beat me because I never had less on the ball in my life. What I can't
understand to this day is why it took them so long to hit me. Frequently
it has been said that "Cy" Seymour started the Cubs on their victorious
way and lost the game, because he misjudged a long hit jostled to centre
field by "Joe" Tinker at the beginning of the third inning, in which
chapter they made four runs. The hit went for three bases.

Seymour, playing centre field, had a bad background against which to judge
fly balls that afternoon, facing the shadows of the towering stand, with
the uncertain horizon formed by persons perched on the roof. A baseball
writer has said that, when Tinker came to the bat in that fatal inning, I
turned in the box and motioned Seymour back, and instead of obeying
instructions he crept a few steps closer to the infield. I don't recall
giving any advice to "Cy," as he knew the Chicago batters as well as I did
and how to play for them.

Tinker, with his long bat, swung on a ball intended to be a low curve over
the outside corner of the plate, but it failed to break well. He pushed
out a high fly to centre field, and I turned with the ball to see Seymour
take a couple of steps toward the diamond, evidently thinking it would
drop somewhere behind second base. He appeared to be uncertain in his
judgment of the hit until he suddenly turned and started to run back. That
must have been when the ball cleared the roof of the stand and was visible
above the sky line. He ran wildly. Once he turned, and then ran on again,
at last sticking up his hands and having the ball fall just beyond them.
He chased it and picked it up, but Tinker had reached third base by that
time. If he had let the ball roll into the crowd in centre field, the Cub
could have made only two bases on the hit, accord