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Me for the ball game this afternoon, muses the Colonel. The Colonel starts for the ball game in his new car, but the flivver gets balky and refuses to move for some time, and when it finally condescends to start, great speed is needed to reach the game in time. But more haste less speed and our friend is hurled ruthlessly out of the car on his head. Nevertheless, he picks himself up and runs on to the park. Arriving there, he finds the home pitcher going badly and in danger of being killed by the rain of hits that are flying like rifle-shots through the box. Old Heeza then offers his services as box man and enters the rifle pit to hurl the game of his life. He is greeted with a sneer by the opposing batsmen, but the sneers turn to snarls of hate when he starts to throw spitters, knuckle balls, fadeaways, and emery balls, and has speed to burn. He has the rival team so badly buffaloed that he fans them all. Of course, as a hitter he is equally good and in the fifteenth inning with the score a tie he knocks the ball out of the park and the leather is still going. Thus Heeza Liar enters the class of the immortals in the Baseball Hall of Fame.
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