[Big Six]

Brown Palace Hotel
Denver, Colorado

November 8, 1920

Col. James F. O'Farrell
144 Grand Avenue
Pittsfield, Massachusetts

Dear Grandpa,

I realized how long it had been since I had written to you, and the occasion of your ninetieth birthday next week motivated me to take up my pen and write to you before we board the train for California. I hope your birthday will find you in good health and fine spirits.

Our stay in Denver has been an exciting one. I had heard the Rocky Mountains are magnificent, but nothing could have truly prepared me for what I experienced when I first saw them, and growing up in the Berkshires as I did, I was accustomed to rolling terrain. Imagine how the "flatlanders" gaped when they saw mountains so high their tops were lost in the clouds.

The local team here was a fairly tough outfit. That didn't surprise me, as Denver is a much bigger city than Wichita. We won all five of our games, but all of them but the last one were close, one or two-run affairs. Yesterday, the locals sent an eighteen year-old lad out to pitch against us, a boy named Matthew Minner. He had some speed and a decent curve, and for several innings had things well under control...but we began to figure him out in the fifth inning and scored five times. Amazingly, the manager left him in the game, even when the poor fellow fell apart.

A few of us were angry at the treatment Minner was receiving, and Hooper, in particular, shouted a few things over to the dolt who was running the Denver club. Finally, poor Minner was relieved, but only after he had pitched eight innings and allowed nineteen runs, nineteen hits, and nine walks. We scored five runs off the reliever in the ninth, and Roy Hitt threw a shutout, so the final tally was 24-0.

It turns out that the promoter who had arranged our visit to Denver--a loud, flashy fellow--had told the manager to let the big leaguers whack the ball around the lot today; that the rooters would like to see us put on a show. He could not have done a worse job of figuring the mood of his clientele. They hated to see poor Minner, who is a local fellow, left in to take such a pounding. The only one of us who didn’t hit him hard was Cobb, whose frustration mounted higher with every pitch he failed to hit on the nose.

There have been a few whispers about the possibility of Cobb leaving the tour, perhaps before we reach California. He has spoken on several occasions about a bad experience he had in Cuba, playing against Negro ballplayers there, and some say he is less than willing to face them again. Others, however, chalk Cobb’s unhappiness up to the fact that he is not exactly tearing the cover off the ball. I am not sure if anyone is keeping track of the All-Americans’ statistics, but I would guess Ty is batting less than .250. Ty is a proud fellow, and I know he does not enjoy it when semiprofessional pitchers have so much success against him.

I should close this letter now, so I will have time to post it before we board our train. Once again, I hope your birthday is a joyous one, and that if I am lucky enough to reach my ninetieth year, I am as hale and hearty as you are.

Your loving grandson,
Pat

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Many thanks to John (JDW) for providing me with the background for Pat's Grandpa, the Colonel. In fact, I can't take any of the credit for developing the Colonel. If you'd like to read about his history--a great tale of Civil War gallantry, service in Congress, and a distinguished career at the bar--take a look at the old thread, "Which players would you like to see on a barnstorming tour with Pat O'Farrell?", which I have bumped to the top.