With the loss of Rusie, the San Francisco Wasps called up young
Elmer Stricklett to assume a role in the starting position for a few training games in lead up to the club’s turn against the travelling all-stars. During 1902, Stricklett never broke the active roster of the championship club and was out on optional assignment in one of California’s many semi-pro leagues. As a young pitcher, Stricklett had raw stuff and his endurance wasn’t up to standards to go the distance. He quickly developed a sore arm once with the Wasps and was about to be released. George Hildebrand, back in California again, somehow managed another tryout with the Wasps. Despite his lack of talent, he knew the game extremely well and immediately saw potential in Stricklett.
“Atta boy! That’s the ticket!,” shouted George after another of the pitcher’s tosses.
“You’re going to the big leagues tomorrow,” joked the catcher. “You’ll be sure to impress those snobby tourists once they arrive. Bound to flash some money in front of yas." He was really pouing it on now. He could see Elmer's enthusiasm.
Stricklett’s pitches had a wicked bend to them as they neared their target. Not that Elmer knew exactly where they were going, but the lack of strict control was just enough to keep any hitter guessing at what was coming next.
“Real good and dirty, Elmer, real good!” George said as the ball dropped to the right. “That’s gonna do you wonders versus righties. But ya gotta know where it’s going or how you want it to break. Here, let me show you.” As has been custom on his travels, George was always chewing something, and whatever it was, it was drooling down his chin. He'd been mashing on it all day.
As he learned from the journeyman, Stricklett wondered why he never tried becoming a pitcher. He knew too much not to try.
“Don’t worry about me, boy. You may have a sore arm but this spitter is gonna solve that. I can’t throw for the life of me, no smoke, no fire. If it don’t work for me this year, I may give umpiring a try.” George was somewhat serious if not somewhat surprised at what he just said. Life as an umpire out here is a short one. Everyone wants to kill you, forcing some to carry a firearm for protection.
“Thanks, George. This pitch is real easy on my arm. I think I’m gonna use it tomorrow.”
Stricklett did and went on to win consecutive games against Sacramento and beat
Jack Chesbro. Elmer was five-foot-six and barely 140 pounds, and striking out seasoned veterans with a remarkable breaking pitch. Jack had to know what was going on.
“Mighty fine ball yer tossin’ there Strick. Looks like something
Clark Griffith throws on the side, when he’s actually in uniform. I tell ya, he and McGraw are out here working every angle to pick up us jumpers and you outlaws, to make sumptin’ outta us back east. It’s like wolves in the chicken coop,” Chesbro cracked. “Mind if you show me that pitch? I’ll put a word in for you next time I see the Old Fox. Those guys ain’t seen nuttin’ yet playing against the Loo-Loos and that group of schlubs they call a team in Oaktown. Gold rush by the bay,” he winked.
Off in the distance, everyone could hear the ruckus downtown at the arrival of the eastern professionals. They gave them a welcoming parade, like they owned the place or were returning war heroes. Out at Recreation Park, though, everyone had something to prove.
Elmer Stricklett
Author’s note – Unfortunately, I was unable to schedule exhibition games pitting the California League teams versus the All-Nationals and All-Americans. It was an oversight by me in not scheduling them during the preseason or at least the regular season to schedule them for 1902. Bummer, it would have been interesting to see how at least the fictional players would have matched up against the majors.