Free Can't Anybody Here Play This Game? by Jimmy Breslin Page A

game in St. Louis. It rained, and Mrs. Payson had her two private cars hooked onto a New York-bound train and she and her party left town. Back in New York, you could watch the “Rain-Out Theatre” on television. It was presented by Rheingold. The picture was about a World War II destroyer and it starred Edward G. Robinson, Glenn Ford, and a despicable Japanese admiral. The admiral must be shipping us transistor radios today, but he sure was rough in the picture.
    It came up clear the next night, and the Mets took the field against the St. Louis Cardinals. The team was dressed just as good as the Yankees. The Mets’ players wore new gray flannel road uniforms which were made by MacGregor and wholesale at $31.50. Their spikes were shined, and their sweatshirts were laundry-clean. The only difference one could see was that the Mets’ jackets were blue nylon, while the Yankees wear heavier cloth jackets.
    Roger Craig was the starting pitcher. In the first inning, Bill White of the Cardinals reached third base. Craig eyed him carefully. Then he started his motion to the plate. The ball dropped out of Craig’s hand. The umpire ruled it a balk and waved White across the plate. The Cards led, 1-0. The Mets’ season now was officially shot.
    Before the night ended, the Cardinals got eleven runs. The Mets committed three errors, and the Cardinals stole three bases. Stan Musial of the Cards got three hits. This was about what he expected to do. At forty-one, Musial had spent the winter thinking of retirement. But every time he came close to calling it a career, he thought of the Mets. A man could have a pretty good year in the big leagues just by playing against the Mets alone, Musial figured. So he stayed. He was right. He damn near won the National League batting title because of the Mets’ pitching.
    Two days later the Mets had their home opener at the Polo Grounds. Pittsburgh was the opposition. In was a dark, wet day, but anybody who meant anything in New York was at the Polo Grounds. There were Mayor Wagner and Jim Farley, there were Bill Shea and the late Mrs. John J. McGraw, Mrs. Payson was in her box seat. Edna Stengel was on hand too. So was a man named Jack Semel. He had an umbrella and he moved over from his box seat to hold it over the heads of George Weiss and National League President Warren Giles. Jack Semel was to make history before the season ended. But right now he was just one of 12,447 spectators at the Polo Grounds. Like we said, everybody who meant anything showed up.
    Unfortunately, so did the Mets.
    In the second inning, Don Hoak of the Pirates was on third and Bill Mazeroski was up with two out. Mazeroski hit a high fly into right center field. That was the third out. The moment Hoak saw the ball go harmlessly into the air, he put his head down and trotted from third to the plate. He wanted to get his glove out of the dugout. Mazeroski trotted to first. He was hoping somebody would bring his glove out of the dugout so he could go straight to his position at second base. Out in the outfield, Richie Ashburn and Gus Bell of the Mets were trotting too. Ashburn is the father of six children. Bell has seven children. They were doing this for a living. Ashburn called. He said he would make the catch. Bell did not answer. He kept waving Ashburn aside. Richie, an adult, did not argue. He stepped aside. Bell then waved himself aside. The ball hit the ground, took a bounce past them, and by the time they got it back to the infield Mazeroski was on third and Hoak was in the dugout. He had scored a run, but he did not really believe it.
    The Mets fought back and by the eighth inning they had the game tied, 3-3. They also had Ray Daviault pitching. Daviault started the inning by walking Dick Groat. This is a very bad thing to do in a tight game. Never, never walk the first man up. But at least Groat was not in scoring position. Daviault took care of this. He threw a pitch that went back to the