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April 9, 1911
As Francis walked back to the dugout, he was greeted by quite a few of the other players.
“Atta boy!” yelled, Joseph Turcotte, a 24 year old outfielder and one of the top hitters on the club.
“Wow kid, you really cranked that one!” exclaimed Francois Talbot, the speedy short stop.
After Francis shook hands with what seemed like 100 guys, he sat on the bench and looked out towards left field of Quebec’s Capital Field. Granted it was just an exhibition game, but Francis felt like he was walking on clouds. He just cranked a homer!!
He turned to Jacky, who had been sitting on the bench next to Francis. “Wow, that felt good!” he said, smiling wide, “your tips at the plate have really been helping. I’m not swinging so hard anymore and look what’s happening.”
“Yeah that’s great kid,” replied Jacky, without even looking at him, “Remember it’s just an exhibition game. That pitcher, Ernst, he’ll be lucky to make their club.”
“I-I know Jacky,” said an uncomfortable Francis, “I just, I’m just trying to make the team and I think I’m doing ok so far.”
“Yeah well, so am I, except I’m hardly getting a chance,” snapped Jacky, who had only gotten a handful of at bats in exhibition games, “Ever since they traded for Heath Fry, the coaches hardly look at me! And I’m the highest paid guy on this team!”
Just then Mr. Hoffman walked into the dugout, spotted Francis, and walked over.
“Not bad kid,” he said, dressed in a black suit, cigar hanging from his mouth, “You keep this up, we’ll have a spot for you on this club. And maybe a new job at the bank.”
Francis smiled and tipped his cap. “Th-thank you sir.”
Francis looked over at Jacky, who rolled his eyes, got up, and walked to the other end of the bench.
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