Page:America's National Game (1911).djvu/433

 "The game went thirteen innings, ending 5 to 3 in favor of Keio. It was refreshing to see such a game for from 10 sen (5 cents) to 60 sen (30 cents).

"A liberal translation, condensed, of the account of the game given in Tokio's great independent newspaper, Jiji Shimpo, is as follows:

"'The heaven-born Honolulu team, by grace of the gods, won the toss and the Keio Invincibles had first chance to swat the honorable ball—that emblem so beautiful of Uncle Sam. The honorable Kauki, of the first base, descendant of a hundred Samurai and beloved of all, grasped his bat as if it were the two-handed sword of his ancestors. Alas! his honorable legs were not winged and the ball beat him to the first rice bag.

'"No score was made by either of the honorable sides, though they hewed holes in the atmosphere like foresters. In the fifth inning the gods smiled on Honolulu and the team scored one honorable run, then the gods laughed while the honorable Keio boys piled up three tallies.

"'Keio's 4,000 rooters then drew in their honorable breaths with a pleased hiss, waved their royal purple flags and exploded like a bunch of firecrackers, with the weird war cry, "Skidoo, doo, doo, for Honolulu," "Razzoo, Razzoo, and 23 for you." At least an American present said this was what the boys meant.

"'Not till thirteen innings had been played was Honolulu vanquished, when the whole Keio team, with innate courtesy apologized for their breach of hospitality in beating a visiting team.'"

The spectacular side of Base Ball around the world is pretty well known by this time, but there is another side that would touch the heart of any ardent American. Take, for instance, the little group of men who represent a big oil company up in the wilderness of upper Burmah. There are just enough of them to form two nines, and when they have an afternoon off, or when their day's work is over, they get together and "batter up" in the good old way. They are far from home; practically exiles, but when they are in the midst of a smashing game under a tropical sun, with the natives staring at the audacious energy of the white men, they probably feel themselves much nearer home than at any other time.