the league.'
And I could, too! Heck, I wasn't even twenty-six years old then.

"'Lick any club in the league?' scoffed McGraw. 'You couldn't lick a
postage stamp!'

"'Give me a chance to trade myself, then,' I suggested. 'What would you
sell me for?'

"'Seven thousand five hundred bills,' he answered.

"'Okay,' I said. 'Can I use your phone?'

"'Sure,' he said.

"We were both pretty mad at that point, so I got 'hold of the operator
and asked her to get me Wilbert Robinson, manager of the Brooklyn club.
You see, Robbie--that's what we called him--had been a coach with us for
years before he became the Dodger manager in 1914. After a while, she
got Robbie on the phone.

"'Hello?' he says.

"'How are you, Robbie?' I asked.

"Fine,' he said. 'Who is this?'

"Now, I had to handle this conversation very carefully. My whole world
depended on it. 'How would you like to have a good left-handed pitcher?'
I said in a jovial tone.

"I'd love it,' he said. 'Who is this? Who's the man? Who are you going
to recommend?'

"I then dropped the clincher. 'I'm going to recommend myself,' I told
him.

"'Who are you?' he repeated.

"'Rube Marquard,' I said, trying to sound impressive.

"'Oh,' Robbie said. 'What are you kidding around for, Rube? I have to go
out on the field and I don't have time to fool around.'

"'No,' I told him, 'I'm serious! McGraw is right here and he says he'll
sell me for seven thousand five hundred buckaroos! Do you want to talk
to him?'

"'Of course I do,' Robbie said. And right then and there I was traded
from the Giants to the Dodgers.

"And, of course, we--the Dodgers, that is--won the pennant the next
year, and I had one of the best years I ever had. I think I had an
earned run average of about one and a half in 1916. And then we won the
pennant again in 1920. So everything worked out pretty well.

"One day when I was pitching for Brooklyn, I pitched the first game of a
double-header against Boston and beat them, one to zip! I was in the
clubhouse during the second game, taking off my uniform, when the
clubhouse boy came in. 'Rube,' he said to me, 'there's an elderly
gentleman outside who wants to see you. He says he's your father from
Cleveland.

"'He is not my father,' I said. 'My father wouldn't go across the street
to see me. But you go out and get his autograph book and bring it in,
and I'll autograph it for him.'

"But instead of bringing in the book, he brought in my Dad. And