April 25, 1943: Philadelphia, PA:
"Don't worry about it Pop," Bobby Barrell told his father.
Rufus was upset - he'd grabbed an overnight train from Pittsburgh to Philadelphia, slept badly and because of engine troubles enroute had still missed the first three innings of Bobby's game. The Keystones had lost 3-0 to the visting Boston Minutemen.
"I could have hitched a ride with the Minutemen," Rufus groused. And this was true - in fact Boston skipper Bill Boshart, who'd seen Rufus on the field after the game had commented about Rufus "following his team around" after also seeing Rufus the day before in Pittsburgh.
"No big deal, Pop," Bobby reiterated. He was pulling his undershirt over his head.
"I need to talk to Sam about this early season scheduling," Rufus muttered. He flung up a hand in derision and continued, "It's dumb to have Boston come in here for one game and then have you boys off to play them again in Boston on Tuesday."
"You'll get no argument from me," Bobby said, grabbing his shirt from the hook in his locker.
Johnny Bologna passed by, slapping Rufus on the back as he did and giving Bobby a friendly nod. The sportswriter sauntered over to the locker of pitcher Pepper Tuttle, who'd taken the loss. Tuttle looked none too pleased at the prospect of talking about it.
Rufus was looking at the long scar on Bobby's arm. "How's that doing?" he asked, pointing.
Bobby shrugged and said, "No big deal, honestly. At least not to me." He frowned.
"What's that mean?" Rufus asked.
"It means that I'm not sure I like being classified 4-F for a gunshot wound that doesn't even keep me from playing baseball," he told his father.
"Now hold on a minute," Rufus said, a look of concern on his face. "You trying to tell me you want to go to war?"
"Well... no, not exactly. But I do feel like it'd be the right thing to do, assuming... you know... if I got drafted."
"You've got a wife, a young son and another baby on the way, Bob," Rufus said gently.
Bobby waved a hand and said bitterly, "So do a lot of guys. That isn't stopping them from serving, Pop."
Rufus took a deep breath. "It's not your fault that crazy woman shot you," he said. Bobby's hung his head and said nothing. "You do realize that, right?" Rufus added.
Bobby shrugged again. "I suppose so," he admitted before continuing, "I can't say that I hold myself entirely blameless Pop. I knew she was infatuated. Maybe I did lead her on," he said.
"That's bull----," Rufus said. Bobby looked at his father and raised his eyebrows.
Rufus smirked and said, "It is."
Bobby laughed and said, "OK, Pop."
"I can't imagine Annette wants you off in the Army either," Rufus said.
"Ha, you could say that," Bobby admitted. He told his father that Annette had given him a "talking to" when he'd admitted his guilt about being classified 4-F. "She said the same things you did, only she wasn't quite as even-toned about it as you were, Pop."
Rufus grinned and nodded. "I can only imagine how your mother would have reacted if I'd have mentioned serving," he said.
Bobby laughed and said, "Yeah... although in your case it would have been... what? The Spanish-American War?"
"Hey, come on...." Rufus said and laughed too. "Although, yes, I suppose that would have been my war after all. But we already had Joe, Rollie and Jack by then, so..."
Bobby nodded thoughtfully and said, "Yep, kids... they change your perspective on a lot of things."
"That they do," Rufus agreed.
"You should see Ralphie Pop," Bobby said with pride. "Growing like a weed. Going to be a slugger like his old man," he concluded.
"Let's see... he has an Olympic sprinter for a mother and a likely Hall-of-Fame baseball player for a father... yeah, I think he might be an ok athlete someday." Rufus chuckled and added, "But you never know what'll catch his fancy. He's not even three years old yet, Bob."
"I know, Pop. We have told him he's going to be a 'big brother' soon and he's pretty excited about that," Bobby said. "Although I don't know that he exactly understands what it means," he added.
"He'll figure it out," Rufus said.
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Bobby Barrell and son Ralph, 1943