by John (Chicago Doves)
The Walnut Room, inside Marshall Field’s department store, is something of a curiosity, being the first restaurant ever opened within a department store. A number of noted Chicagoans have dined there since, and two of the most recent were Chicago Doves pitchers Clayton Cooper and Sylveste Osler. The two have spent the last few years sitting next to each other on the Doves bullpen, seldom getting into games, and have become fast friends. Each year, they meet for an autumn lunch to celebrate another season before they disperse to their offseason homes (Colorado and Florida, respectively).
“Well, this is a pretty nice place, eh?” said Osler when the two were seated. “A whole lot better than beer and a sandwich at Berghoff’s Tavern.”
“I suppose”, said Cooper, “but I’m telling you, we’d better enjoy then good life while we have a salary. I get the feeling that big change is on the horizon, and part of it just might be you and me getting our walking papers”.
“Why would it be us? We haven’t done anything to let the nine down. Why, the pitching in general has been just fine. It’s not our fault that the hitters fell into a trench at the end of 1906 and never could manage to pull themselves out of it this year. Pettigrew, Jakubowski, Williams… those are the boys who should be sweating. They’re making the top salaries, and they couldn’t seem to get out of their own way at the dish this year.”
“Well, that’s true, but I don’t think it’s just about the money. Have you taken a good look at old man Vaughn lately? He’s looking like the Grim Reaper is about to tap him on the shoulder any day now. I think he really wants to win one championship before he sees Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates, and he’s willing to shake things up to make it happen. Rumor is, we’re getting a new skipper next year, and that might be just the beginning.”
“And I’d like to make it happen for him; he’s always been square with me. But I wouldn’t put anything past that GM of his, Momberg. He’s always looked kind of shifty to me.”
“Yeah, and he’s got those two kids, Kaye and Burridge, ready to swoop in and take our jobs. I’ve been looking over my shoulder at those two characters for a couple of seasons now.”
“Well, we both knew it would eventually happen. Neither of us are spring poultry any more, and I sometimes feel kind of silly playing a boy’s game for not that much money. I may just talk to my father-in-law this winter and see if he’s willing to take me into his family business.”
“Well, you’re lucky. None of my family has two pennies to rub together, so I’ll probably cling on to baseball as long as I possibly can, whether it’s with the Doves or somewhere else. But whatever happens, we’ve had some great times. Let’s drink a toast to the Chicago Doves that we knew… God only knows what the old nine will look like next year, but let’s just hope we’re still part of it.”
They clinked their beer steins together, downed the frothy brew, and thinking of their uncertain financial future, slunk out without paying the check…