[SelzShoes]

“Mr. MacPhail, Mr. MacPhail” the young assistant was bursting with joy. This thrilled Larry MacPhail to no end. “Always have these empty suits who think because ‘Yankees’ is on their paycheck that they know something about baseball. All they know is three strikes and you’re out, and even then, they usually bug me or Topping just to be sure.” Disdain did not begin to describe what he felt for most of the staff.

“What! I’m a busy man, don’t waste my time.” In truth, MacPhail was looking to meet some of his army buddies for a couple drinks, and did not want to waste time working.

“Our man in Arizona; I didn’t think we sent anyone to the Negro tryout camp—he has sent a telegram,” the office assistant was anticipating the praise and reward to come his way by being the one to bring the good news to MacPhail.

Larry rolled his eyes at the hopefulness of the faceless gray flannel suit. “Oh, enough of them bitched about our not being there that Topping and Webb thought we should send someone. They still are ticked about that Powell thing from, God, ten years ago.” MacPhail moved some papers around while mimicking a Stepen Fetchit voice about the protest of the Yankees boycott of the camp.

The assistant laughed, because that is how one moved up the ladder in any business, at least that’s what the book he read told him. MacPhail grabbed the telegram to confirm that no one in this organization knew anything about baseball.

PROBLEM AT THIRD SOLVED
SEEN MAN WHO WILL CHANGE GAME
ORESTES MINOSO CAN DO EVERYTHING
A STEAL AT THE LEAGUE MIN—AWAIT INSTRUCTIONS

MacPhail looked thoughtfully or at least the look he had when he wanted someone to think he was being thoughtful, and then dropped the telegram into the trash. He looked at the young go getter, “Did you see what I just did?” The faceless suit nodded vigorously. “That’s what I want you to do with every telegram that comes in from the Arizona camp. Do you understand?”

“But, what if the player . . .”

“Son, this isn’t some two-bit operation you are working for. We are the New York Yankees. And I’m not letting just any colored bastard come in and wear that uniform. Especially not one who has a non-American name and probably can’t speak a word of English either. We have standards.” The suit felt very dejected, what he thought was a moment of glory had turned sour.