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First big league spring
Putnam Hotel
447 Huntington Avenue
Boston, Massachusetts
April 8, 1908
Dear Mom and Dad,
I will begin for apologizing for not writing more often from Little Rock. I have never been as tired as I was during our training there. I felt like I was running constantly...running from the hotel to the ball field, running back to the hotel, running in general. I still don't see how some of the older fellows did it. I did notice, however, that old Cy Young didn't run as much as most of us did. I suppose he's earned the right to choose his spots, however.
Before you consider me disrespectful for referring to Mr. Young as Old Cy, I should point out that he calls himself that from time to time. When I met him this spring--remember, he was injured last September and was not with the team when I arrived--I addressed him as "Mr. Young." He replied with a laugh, and told me that I was to call him Cy. "I won't have a man who's playing second base behind me call me Mr. Anything," he informed me. I must confess I am still in awe of him, as he began his major league career the year I turned two, and I don't refer to completing a double play in this case.
The hotel where I am living is home to almost all the single men on the club. It is an easy walk from the grounds, and it is far nicer than any of the hotels I could have availed myself of in Richmond, New Bedford, or Providence. Bill Carrigan, now a married man, has moved on to quarters more suited to a domestic fellow like he has become. Tris lives here, however, and I've come to know a few of the other fellows who are new to the team as well.
A young pitcher named Joe Wood, with whom I became acquainted at Little Rock, did not make the team out of camp, however, and he is now down at Providence. I gave Joe the name of the lady who owns the house on Angell Street where I boarded last spring, and I heard from him yesterday that he has settled in there nicely. As hard as Wood throws, I suspect he will be on his way to Boston directly, if he can master the task of throwing the ball over the plate a bit more consistently.
I promise I will write to everyone more regularly once I become more accustomed to life as a major league ball player. Forgive me if I sound a bit arrogant, but I'm still not completely convinced that I'm playing in the American League.
Nothing would please me more than to receive a visit from you at some point during the season. I know how long it has been since you've been to Boston, Mom. Hug Emily for me.
It's off to the park for me now, as we entertain the Philadelphia Athletics today. Eddie Plank, a Gettysburg College man, will be pitching against us. See, Dad, not all base ball players are uneducated rubes!
Your loving son,
Patrick
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