[SelzShoes]

Anger did not begin to explain how Jerry Priddy felt. For the latter part of the 1930’s it was he, not that upstart Rizzuto, who was the darling of the Yankee system. The keystone sacker so smooth he forced Joe Gordon to move to first base. Unfortunately, the bat could not catch up with the glove, and by mid-season, Priddy rode the pine. Now, if only he had known not to sign that f-----g low ball contract. $6,000.00, barely over the minimum. Some n-----s had signed for more than that; wasn’t he worth more than one of them?

Options were limited—at this point a hold out seemed like the only choice, but that did not have much bite with a signed contract for the upcoming season. The only choice would be to force a trade, or better yet, his release. “Marse Joe don’t take crap from anyone,” Priddy thought to himself, “but Job he is not.” The first smile in months crossed his face, “make their lives hell to make me free.”