[Big Six]

The Callahan Farm, Tuscarawas County, Ohio
February 22, 1897

Charlie Callahan positioned his foot on the wooden pitcher's plate he had carefully affixed to the ground, exactly sixty feet, six inches from the barn wall. He concentrated his gaze on the rectangle he had chalked on the wall, the width of home plate and approximately the size of a batter's strike zone.

Charlie wound up his right arm, drew it back, strode forward, and with a powerful push from his right leg, he fired the ball toward his target. It hit the lower right corner of the square with a loud CRACK. The boy smiled as he walked to retrieve the ball. That one felt good, he thought.

Now six feet tall and 180 pounds, sixteen-year-old Charlie possessed the size and strength to play ball on equal terms with adult men. He'd demonstrated that for the first time last May, when he beat the New Philadelphia nine on Decoration Day. His success earned him the opportunity to pitch for the Canal Dover team six more times; he'd won five of his starts, and lost the other 2-0 in fourteen innings.

There wasn't that much work to be done around the family farm in February, so Charlie had more freedom to work out his pitching arm than he had during the remainder of the year. He could tell he was throwing harder than he had last summer, simply from the sound his pitches made when they hit the barn wall. Now they cracked like a rifle shot when he hit his target.

"Are you trying to knock down that barn?" Charlie turned and smiled when he heard the voice of his friend. Jimmy Moffat waved his hand as he approached.

"I'm just trying to get my arm in shape for the spring."

"I bet you'll pitch as much for the town team as Lafe does this year," predicted Jimmy.

"Honestly, I'd like to try out for the Canton Watchmakers," replied Charlie.

Jimmy smiled and shook his head. "There's gonna be men from all over trying out for them, Charlie. Not just yokels from small towns like Canal Dover."

"I know. I figure I'm too young to make the Watchmakers this year. But maybe I'll be good enough to make the Township League. Then, in a few years, who knows?"

"I know your Pa won't mind you trying out," said Jimmy. "But how about your Ma? Won't she say you're just wasting your time when you should be working?"

Charlie paused for a moment. Jimmy was right. Mary Callahan was a no-nonsense woman who had a hard enough time with the fact that, even as he neared forty, her husband John spent so much time on the ball field. She'd be fit to be tied if she found out her son was starting down the very same path.

Charlie lowered his voice, even though there was nobody but his friend within earshot. "I don't intend to let Ma know until it's over."