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April 2, 1911
As the steady drizzle increased in intensity and the wind continued to swirl, all the players ran around the outside of the fence at Hanlon Point Park, working to increase their conditioning for the season. Francis, who had taken to running to and from work everyday, had little problem keeping up with the front of the pack.
After lap number two, Francis turned to his right and saw a familiar face running just ahead of him. He looked back to find Jacky, then slowed a bit.
"Hey Jacky," Francis said quietly, but loud enough to be heard, "That tall guy over there, his name Jon?"
Francis nodded his head toward the large, masculine specimen with the neatly trimmed beared and broad shoulders.
"Who? Him?" yelled Jacky, "Yeah. That's Jonathon Faubert, one of our top pitchers last year, won nine games."
"He play hockey for the Blueshirts too?" asked Francis.
"yeah, he's quite an athlete," replied Jacky, who was having a much more difficult time running than Francis was.
Francis whiped off the rain from his forehead and continued on through the weather. He thought of the night after the hockey game when he saw Jon kiss Helen and the heartbreak that followed. He had tried to escape the thoughts of Helen, but they all came rushing back.
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