[Mattymo]

February 5th, 1911

"Here's a shovel Franky, get to work," yelled Jacky, bundled up in a winter coat, hat and gloves, tossing Francis a shovel.

"Ugh, luckily we don't get many of these, eh?" responded a half-asleep Francis, dressed similarly. It was 6am and a foot of snow had fallen overnight.

Jacky laughed. "Did I hear an 'eh' coming from the American? You'll be fully Canadian soon enough Franky!"

"Never!" Francis said with a laugh as he got to work clearning off the sidewalk.

After about twenty minutes Francis was exhausted. He turned to see Jacky still going strong, driving the shovel deep, lifting the snow, then effortlessly tossing it away.

"You need to get into shape Franky!" yelled Jacky without stopping.

"What shape is that Jacky? Round?" joked Francis as he got back to work, alluding to Jacky's heavy build.

"ha ha, very funny," responded Jacky, sarcastically, "This is one of the ways I get ready for ball season, been doin it for years."

Francis stopped. "Ball season?" he asked.

"yeah, base ball," Jacky answered, in his usual matter-of-fact tone.

"You play base ball?" asked a shocked Francis.

"Uh yeah Franky, thought you knew that," he answered, "I've been playing for the Maple Leafs ever since I came to Toronto. You like the game eh?"

"I've always loved base ball, played with my friends after school all the time," said Francis, "I didn't even know they played up here."

Jacky stopped shoveling, took off his hat and whiped some sweat off his brow. "What? Of course we play base ball! The Maple Leafs have been playing for twenty years at least!" shouted Jacky, somewhat offended, "They started an official Canadian League last season. It's semi-pro, but they do pay us. And we won the first championship."

Francis was astounded. Growing up he loved hearing tales of the great Major Leaguers like Nap Lajoie, Rube Waddell and Big Ed Delahanty. He remembered trying with his friends to hear the radio call of the 1910 World Series and being disappointed when his favorite team, the Boston Red Sox, lost to the Chicago Cubs. He always loved the crack of the bat, sliding into bases and diving for the ball in the outfield. Sometimes he would make believe he was Tris Speaker, the star player for Boston. How he longed to play again.

"Get back to work, people will be showing up soon!" shouted Jacky, who had already shoveled double of what Francis had done.

After the sidewalks and steps were clear, the two headed inside to get washed up and prepare the offices.

"Hey Jacky, any chance I could play ball with you guys," Francis timidly asked as he took off his winter clothes, "I was always really good gro…"

Jacky's heavy laugh interrupted Francis. "No offense Franky, but you're…you're small kid. What're you, about 130 pounds? We've got some good ballplayers believe it or not."

"I know I'm small, but I'm strong…and I'm fast," responded a confident Francis, "I can hit the ball pretty far."

Jacky stopped and grabbed Francis' arm. "Look kid, I don't think there's anyway you could make our club. I like ya, but even some of the kids in the Lower League are pretty darned good. But if you're serious, there's only one man who could help you. You gotta talk to the boss."

"The boss?" asked Francis, confused.

Jacky smiled and started walking away. "President Hoffman," he said without turning around, "He's the one who runs the club. Good luck!"