[legendsport]

New York, NY: September 12, 1912:

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier... Really."

No response.

Joe Barrell tried again - "Rube, I am so sorry. Neither of us planned this, it just... happened."

Still no response. Instead Joe had the same view of Rube's slicked-back black hair (shot through with gray) as the elder man taped Joe's fists before putting the gloves on for the upcoming bout.

Joe could hear - faintly - the buzz of the crowd. Even here, deep in the bowels of the Bigsby Oval, the noise of fifty-thousand people could be felt as well as heard. Joe thought it felt like being underneath a force of nature - like a tornado or something (not that he'd ever seen a tornado... but his father had and Rufus had told his son how terrifying, and yet also mesmerizing, it had been).

"Rube, come on.... I love her."

Joe saw Rube's hands stop moving, the tape stretched out in preparation of one more wind around Joe's left fist. Slowly, Rube raised his head and looked into Joe's eyes.

"You mean that?" he asked quietly.

Joe swallowed and nodded. "Yes, sir. Absolutely. She's the world to me."

Rube frowned.

Joe opened his mouth, about to explain further, but Rube held up a hand. "You know something? I tried to keep her away from the gym, away from the fights. Away from the pugs... and yet, she goes and falls in love with one."

Joe asked, softly, "She told you she loves me?"

Rube's frown deepened. "She did. And that's the only thing that kept me from walking in here and punching you out."

Now Rube grinned a bit, "Although, I've seen you take a punch - and give 'em out. So maybe she did me a favor."

Joe laughed. This sounded like the old Rube.

Rube grew serious again. "That doesn't mean that if you hurt her I won't come after you. I will.... or maybe I'll hire the heavyweight champ to do it for me."

Rube finished the taping, his hands blurring as he completed his work. He slapped Joe's right fist and picked up a glove.

He craned his neck and shouted into the hall: "OK, you can stop slinking around out there. No one's going to get punched out in the next few minutes.... except, hopefully, Mitchell Winter." Winter was Joe's opponent in the upcoming bout.

Cooter's head popped into the doorway. "Y'all are good now? I got my cut kit... just in case."

Joe and Rube shared a look and both started laughing.


Rufus sat holding Alice's hand. They had good seats - the ring had been set up approximately over the second base area (the Gothams were on a two-week road trip and a burlap tarp had been laid over the infield with folding chairs placed atop it - although once the fights started, no one would be sitting). Rufus reckoned they were sitting somewhere between third base and the pitcher's mound. He also reflected this was the closest he had been to the mound at the Oval since... well, since that day. He rarely thought about it any longer, but when he did, it was still just simply... that day. He squeezed Alice's hand and smiled when she gave him a questioning look.

"These seats are great!" Rollie said as he absently plucked a peanut from the bag held by Jimmy who was busy looking at the upper deck.

"Pop, people really sit way up there to watch baseball?" Jimmy asked.

Rufus shrugged and said, "Sure, but usually only for big games. Most days, only the seats in the lower sections are occupied."

"Wow! This place is enormous!" Danny said. "Someday, I'm gonna play here too, Pop!"

Rufus smiled - he liked the sound of that. And as expected, he heard Fred chime in seconds later with an enthusiastic "Me too!"

Fred was wearing a white button that Alice had found... or made... (Rufus wasn't sure) emblazoned with red letters reading "Birthday Boy!" He'd been proudly wearing it all day, and frequently reminded Danny that he had not had a button like it on his birthday. Sibling rivalry... Rufus reflected that his relationship with his brother Robert hadn't been too different.

Alice elbowed Rufus, drawing his attention away from his sons.

"So, tell me again about this Potent fellow," she said.

"Potentas - his name is Potentas," Rufus said.

Rollie, munching on a peanut, added, "He's nuttier than Jimmy's peanuts."

Rufus frowned at his son and said, "Well, he did have a letter that looked like it was from the FABL offices. I'm going to stop in and check on it." Robert Owings, the President of the Federally Aligned Baseball Leagues, kept his office in the nation's capital. Since Rufus was an employee of the Washington Eagles Baseball Club, he had already been planning to stop in D.C. on the way back to Georgia. Thomas Potentas and his "OSA" gave him an excuse to visit the FABL Offices while he was there.

"Yes, and he probably had a letter from President Taft in his other pocket," Rollie added with a smirk.

Rufus had seen Owings' signature several times on various pieces of FABL correspondence - and the one scrawled on Potentas' letter looked legitimate. Still... he wanted to check out the man's story in person.

Alice gave Rufus a sharp look and asked, "If this gentleman's credentials - and offer - turn out to be legitimate, what will you do?"

Rufus shrugged and replied, "I honestly can't say. On the one hand becoming a partner in his scouting agency - what a concept, by the way - sounds better than working for one club. I'd have carte blanche to do whatever I wanted, however I wanted to do it. On the other hand, it's risky. I know the Eagles... or Kings, or whoever, aren't going away. I don't know that this OSA-thing will be a permanent fixture."

Alice frowned. "I don't know what to think of this myself. Maybe you should talk it over with Dad before deciding."

Rufus nodded - Joe Reid had been around the game for nearly fifty years and had been on the business side of things for twenty-five of them. He'd be a good sounding board.


Joe's fight - a six-rounder to open the evening's card of five bouts - was scheduled to start right at four o'clock. With summer coming to an end, the days were getting shorter and though portable lights were set up around the ring, the hope was to have all the fighting done before full dark. Rufus spotted the Bigsbys - Miles, Charlie and young Sam - sitting ringside. Miles saw him too, and nodded genially. Despite their reputation - and Joe Reid's admonitions - Rufus had always found the Bigsbys to be decent fellows, even if Miles himself was a bit... intense.

Rufus reflected on the conversation he had with his son the day before - Joe explaining his feelings for, and relationship with, his "cut man's" daughter Edna. He was about to speak with the girl's father about it and expected the conversation to be difficult. He saw Joe, along with Cooter and Rube, standing in the corner. Cooter was speaking to Joe, who was nodding, and - a good sign - Rube had his right hand resting on Joe's shoulder. Apparently the talk went fairly well.

Rufus was close enough to hear the referee say "Seconds out" which meant it was time for Cooter and Rube to exit the ring. Cooter slapped Joe on the back, grinned at him and ducked out of the ring. Joe bounced a bit on the balls of his feet and went to the center of the ring for the referee's instructions. This had all become very familiar to Rufus, who had so far missed only one of his son's fights.

The opponent, Mitchell Winter, was a local kid from the Bronx, 21-years-old, and had a pro record of 5-1-1 with two knockouts. He was considered an "up-and-comer" and would be a good test for Joe.

The bell sounded and, as he usually did, Joe went right on the offensive. Rufus cringed a bit as he saw his son throw a punch that missed badly - and then followed that up with two more misses. Winter was moving well, and it looked like Joe might have a hard time landing punches.

Frustrated, Joe reached out and grabbed Winter, earning an admonishment from referee Sam Thompson. Joe nodded and waded back in, missing again... and again before finally landing as he followed a miss with a nasty uppercut that showed he anticipated Winter's dodge. The remainder of the round went much the same way - Joe missing often, landing occasionally, but definitely being the driving force, and clearly winning the round.

In the second, Winter came out aggressively and landed some good punches. The main effect, though, was to anger Joe who drove Winter into the corner and staggered his opponent with a barrage that drew some oohs and aahs from the spectators. The round ended more evenly than the first, but to Rufus' admittedly-biased eye, his son had won that one too.

Joe showed his own ability to stick and move in the third, largely avoiding Winter's punches and countering effectively. Rufus now felt his son would win this fight, as long as Winter didn't land a big punch or two. With less than 30 seconds left in the round Joe landed another uppercut that rocked Winter and almost knocked him down. He managed to weather the storm for the rest of the round, but looked dazed as he went to the corner at the bell.

The fight took a more tactical bent in the fourth as Joe countered Winter's strategy by working around the ring, frustrating Winter's attempt to land punches while scoring points with his own flurries.

There was a scary moment in the fifth as Winter rocked Joe with a cross that bounced him off the ropes. Rufus heard Alice gasp and Rollie mutter "Ouch" - but Joe rebounded nicely and shook off the effects after a moment.

The sixth and final round saw Winter look defeated and downcast. Joe seemed content to score occasionally, and clinch otherwise. Cooter was yelling at him, but Rufus couldn't make out what he was shouting. From the look on his face, it wasn't anything good.

As the bell sounded to end the fight, Alice sighed. Rufus patted her hand and said, "He won that one, easily."

And that turned out to be the case as announcer Sid Kearns said, "The winner by unanimous decision, Joe Barrell!" and raised Joe's arm into the air. Rufus was on his feet applauding. His son had run his professional record to 7-0-0 with four knockouts. Cooter was still scowling but Rube patted Joe on the back as Joe pointed at his parents with his glove, smiling hugely.

Now, with that out of the way, Rufus turned his mind back to Thomas Potentas and his "Omnipotent Scouting Agency" - he'd be changing that name if he did become a partner. It was just a little too high-fallutin' for an ex-pitcher from rural Georgia.