Charles Dryden, "Horse Blanket Series: Dryden," Chicago Daily Tribune v. LXV, no. 242 (Tuesday, October 9, 1906); 2.

HORSE BLANKET SERIES: DRYDEN

Baseball Writer Satirizes the Preparation for the Big Games.

ITS CIVIL WAR, HE SAYS.

Hermann Reads Rules to Players and Umps; Pulliam in Subdued Raiment.

[By Charles Dryden.]

Civil war breaks loose here today in Mr. Murphy's ball yard, and this morning sporting blood flows red and warm in the veins of the jungle. The big town on the rim of the lake is baseball dizzy, which is several degrees worse than batty.

If the weather permits, the Spuds and the Sox begin a battle for the world's horse blankets-the emblem of baseball supremacy these days. Pennants are cheap and tawdry rags compared to the hand-painted blankets with which boss athletes drape skinny back horses while touring the provinces.

Little Money Wagered.

However, the local teams get together today and scrap for whatever there is in it. Some say the Spuds will win in a walk, and the little money bung up on the series points the same way. Partisans of the White Sox are just as urgent in believing that their heroes will thump the west siders. More people than the grounds will hold yearn to see the games. All the choice seats for the next five days have been sold, and the populace clamors fiercely for more.

Commission Confronts Players.

Final instructions to athletes, umps, and the local and visiting war correspondents filled in the time yesterday. No special damage resulted from the meeting, which was held at the Auditorium Annex. The national commission, minus Ban Johnson, confronted the players of both teams, all dressed in their best suits of clothes. In this respect the Spuds had it on the Sox, as the Murphy faction wore the souvenir suspenders and garters lavished upon them at Philadelphia. But since the tokens didn’t show on the outside one team looked as well as the other. So far as we can learn, no suitable presents have been showered upon the Sox. All the gladness comes to the Spuds with more on the way. At the close of the series the Board of Trade will feed the Spuds $5,000 worth of buzz water and fried turtles. That is something to live for.

Stops at Rule 23.

At the final dope confab, Garry Hermann read the rules governing the World Series last fall and President Murphy asked a few questions. Garry stopped reading when he reached Rule 23. By that time the bronzed athletes bad grown restless and were casting uneasy glances at the door. The soft willow rockers in the green room at the Annex irked the hardy sons of toll.

While the athletes took no part in the discussion, their loyalty stood out firm and unmistakable. The White Sox, headed by President Comiskey, camped on the south side of the room in a bunch. Along the west wall the Spuds massed behind their beloved Murphy. There was no mixing up and min ling. The question of who cops the horse blankets is too for frivolous consideration. Each team favors its own side of the room as well as the town. Umpires Sheridan, O'Loughlin, and Johnstone flocked in a small lump by themselves. Ranged along the rear wall, the muckrakers listened to Garry Herrmann read the playing rules up to Number 23.

Mr. Pulliam's Raiment.

Among those present was the Hon. H. Pulliam, the human haberdashery. Without saying a word Harry can make himself heard above the hum and turmoil of traffic which grows pretty loud in this city. On this occasion, however, Mr. Pulliam had calmed himself down to a subdued autumnal tone. His garments did not shriek as of yore. The polite and talented president wore tan shoes and black velvet spats, or overgaiters. If not walking on velvet, Harry comes quite close to it. He had a plain gray suit and a pickled beet in his buttonhole, a cheese colored vest, and a New York Central shirt, with four parallel tracks on the bosom. The little college yell hat of last summer has given way to the sedate derby, and Harry wore no cane of any kind.

No Biting in Clinches.

While Carry read the rules up to Number 23 he was listened to with close attention by the grave and revered athletes. Also the umps. The main idea was to insure correct deportment on the battlefield. There is to be no biting in the clinches or hurling back any pop bottles the fanatics may fire into the arena. Any players disciplined for misconduct will have his portion of the trimmed in the amount assessed by the umpire. Mr. Pulliam made a special speech in reference to roughhouse tactics.

"I suggest," said Harry, "that the umpires be instructed to bench those four-flush players who stand on the coaching line and incite the crowd doing its best to rattle a man."

Mr. Hermann said he would rely upon the umps to carry out the rules as written without further instructions from him. Thereupon Nick Altrock and Tip O'Neil shook hands. They are said to be the athletes who coax wild shrieks from the crowd.

Somebody said it would be a good idea to have an extra pair of umps in case one of the regulars got choked or had a lump of hard cheese bounced off his head in the heat of battle. Garry said that so far as he knew O'Loughlin and Johnstone were the only umps called upon.

Plenty of Time to Maul.

The games will start at 2:30 P.m., thus enabling the contenders to maul each other plenty before dark. Neither side will announce the batteries for the opening game. The probable selections are Brown or Lundgren and Kling for the Spuds, White or Walsh and Sullivan for the Sox. There is little betting and the odds are 2 to 1 on the Nationals.