[legendsport]

Tokyo, Japan: December 3, 1930:

"Last day," Rufus told Alice as he pulled the knot of his tie up.

"Thankfully," his wife replied. She had not particularly enjoyed the trip and though she had kept this under wraps when they were not alone, she didn't spare Rufus from her true feeling when they were in their hotel room.

One of the Japanese newspapers was sponsoring the trip and from the time their ship arrived in Tokyo Bay on November 5th, the paper had put a lot of demands on the American group. Though they had played "only" 16 games (today's would be the 17th and final game of the tour), they had activities everyday. Some of the guys handled this better than others.

The trip hadn't started out all that well either. Two days out of Honolulu (where the Americans docked for a brief one-night layover en route from San Francisco to Tokyo), Harry had nearly caused a diplomatic incident.

Rufus' 17-year-old son was only on the trip because his parents were - he certainly wasn't one of the players (though he privately opined later that he could have played). The passengers on the Hawaii-to-Japan leg of the trip included a retired Japanese Admiral, who was a hero of the long-ago war between Russia and Japan. He also happened to be rotund and as bald as an egg. Harry and Bobby had immediately taken to calling him "Eggy" amongst themselves (and occasionally with some of the others as well). On the afternoon of their second day at sea, the Admiral had fallen asleep in a deck chair. Harry had crept up behind him and drawn an egg on the admiral's bald pate, adding stick arms and legs and a smiling face, then topped it off by printing "Eggy" over the top of it.

When the admiral awoke to find people pointing and staring, he was at first bewildered, but soon discovered what had happened. And though he couldn't know for certain who had done the "artwork" on his head, he strongly suspected Harry was the culprit. And he voiced this opinion to Rufus and Eddie Reed. Rufus had privately chastised his son, and Harry had duly apologized (with Bobby smirking in the background), but the damage had been done.

Then there were the players. Rufus had taken Reed's advice to heart and sought players who were generally considered to be well-behaved and mature, and specifically single or married without any children. Though he didn't quite fit the first requirement, the first player Rufus had approached was Max Morris. Morris refused, mentioning that he was going to be in Hollywood making a movie in November. Hiding his relief (though he didn't think Morris would be on good behaviour in Japan, he also felt he couldn't avoid asking him, given his status as the most famous ballplayer on the planet), Rufus had moved on to Rankin Kellogg of the Keystones. The big, genial (and according to some, dimwitted) first baseman had readily agreed after discovering he could bring his wife along. In all, the team featured 15 players (if you counted Eddie Reed, who was along as a third catcher) with Rufus getting Freddie a spot as the backup to T.R. Goins. The regular starters were Goins behind the plate, Kellogg at first, Gothams keystone Mose Christopher at second with his team mate Don Ward at the hot corner. Jack Cleaves of the Sailors manned shortstop (not his regular position for Philly, but one he had played well as an amateur). The outfield consisted of Baltimore's Lou Kelly (normally a first baseman) in left, Montreal centerfielder Cliff Moss and Detroit right fielder Al Wheeler. The pitchers were Baltimore's Rabbit Day, Lou Martino of the New York Stars, and a pair of young up & comers in the just-traded Milt Fritz and Tommy Wilcox of the Kings (when Reed had pressed Rufus on bringing only four pitchers, Rufus had grinningly told him that if those four weren't enough, he'd go to the mound himself). The bench were Reed, Fred Barrell, and Fred's team mate Russ Combs, an infielder who assured everyone he could play in the outfield in a pinch. Bobby naturally volunteered as a spare, as did Harry, but Rufus felt that would be a stretch. Tom had been offered the opportunity to join the group and refused, opting to stay home with his "flavor of the month" (Bobby's terminology), a red-head he'd met at Georgia Baptist named Elvira.

The games were somewhat farcical as the Americans won by scores like 23-1, 20-3 and 17-2. Kellogg would later reflect on the trip, noting that while the Japanese "were excellent fielders and some of the pitchers were pretty good, they couldn't hit worth a lick." He also noted that the Japanese players - all of whom were collegians - seemed star-struck to be on the same field with the Americans and remembered "one fellow hit a slow tapper to short, where Cleaves gloved it and made his usual clean throw. As I caught it, I looked and the batter was trotting down the line with a big grin on his face. I found their inability to take things seriously frustrating and wanted to sock the fellow in his nose."

For their part, the Japanese found the Americans attitude tough to swallow as well. One hitter tapped a ball back to Rabbit Day, who grinned, picked it up and tossed it to Don Ward at third, who then gunned it across to Kelly (spelling Kellogg that day) at first, and retiring the runner easily. To Day this was a joke, but to the Japanese it was an insult. So though there wasn't a lot of good feelings being generated amongst the players on both sides, the fans absolutely loved it. Well over 60,000 fans crammed into Kanda Stadium in Tokyo (which typically seated about half that many) to watch the Americans destroy their opponents 15-0 in the tour opener. The final game would also be played there. Along with five Kanda Stadium games, the Americans played in Osaka, Kyoto, Nagoya, Yokohama, Hiroshima and Kobe, and in each case the ballparks were packed.

After having his tie re-done by his wife, Rufus and Alice went down to the lobby where the group was meeting for the parade back to Kanda Stadium. And a parade is exactly what it was as the team rode in open cars down the Ginza with throngs of people cheering along the route.

"They sure do love their baseball here, Pop," Harry remarked. Rufus replied that Harry's observation was likely an understatement. He'd never seen anything like this back in the U.S., and he'd been to more World Championship Series games than he could count.

When they arrived at the stadium, they were escorted through the throng, with some of the players signing autographs along the way. Rufus noted that even Harry stopped to give out autographs. Alice snapped at him to stop, to which he replied, "Hey, they asked me! This wasn't my idea." Rufus frowned, then saw that Bobby was also signing autographs and shook his head. Then a little man with round spectacles ran up to him, saying "Barrell-san, Barrell-san!" and holding out a pen and paper. Rufus was astonished that this man knew who he was. He signed and handed the paper back to man. The man looked at the signature, frowned and looked up at Rufus. "Fred Barrell-san?" he asked. Now it was Alice's turn to laugh as Rufus tried to explain that Fred was his son. "I guess that poor man was fooled by the family resemblance, Rufus," his wife told him between chuckles. Rufus shook his head - Fred was 25 years old and Rufus was 57; he couldn't believe anyone could confuse him with his son.

Rufus got to put on a uniform again, as he had for each game of the tour. Reed had asked him to act as manager and he had gladly accepted, even if the role was largely ceremonial. Dan Prescott had even sent a Kings uniform for him to wear. He still had a strange feeling wearing a baseball uniform after so long, and the surreal nature of the tour didn't help. He joined the rest of the team on the field before the game for a bow to the (empty) Emperor's box and felt strange not hearing a national anthem or

The game, like all the others before it, was a lopsided affair. Fred got to catch the last three innings, only the third time Goins hadn't taken all the pitches in a game on the tour. "That fellow is made of iron, Pop," Fred had told his father one night. Fred doubled in his first at-bat and flied to left in his second, but the game was long decided by then as the Americans finished with a 17-0 record behind a combined three-hit shutout from Wilcox and Fritz in an 11-0 win.

The next morning, as a weary group trudged up the gangway to the ship that would carry them back to first Hawaii and then San Francisco, Rufus apologized to Eddie Reed.

"Why are you apologizing?" Reed asked, with a genuinely perplexed expression on his face.

"Why? Because we showed them up. I don't expect they'll want us back any time soon," Rufus explained. He was tempted to mention the "Eggy incident" but decided that might be a bit too much.

"Are you kidding? They loved it, Rufus. Loved it!" Reed rubbed his hands together. "I'm already in negotiations to do it again next fall."

Rufus shot Reed a look to see if he was putting him on. Reed laughed. "I'm serious," he said.

Rufus thought back over the past month and realized that if Reed asked him, he'd absolutely come back next year. Then he saw Alice looking at him with a raised eyebrow and resumed his walk up the gangway. "Discretion really is the better part of valor," he thought.


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