Ehmke Wasn’t Shaky Until Ninth
Waited 16 Years for ‘Big Shot’
Disappointed in Missing Shutout

CHICAGO, ILL., October 8 – There are moments in nearly every lifetime when a fellow wonders just what he would do when he gets into a tight pinch. One of these occasions arose today when for the first time in my sixteen years in the game I got into a world series battle.It is the dream of every pitcher to twirl a shutout game in the baseball classic, and although I won against the Cubs, I was somewhat disappointed at not coming through with a row of zeroes against the enemy.

Surprised at Record

I was surprised to learn that I had set a new series record of thirteen strikeouts, breaking the old mark of twelve, which, singularly enough, was also made against the Cubs.

Here’s how it all came about that I got the honor of pitching the opening game. On the train out to Chicago, I felt pretty frisky and when I got to our hotel on Monday afternoon I took a nice long walk along the lake shore.

I wasn’t bothered for tickets by friends and I managed to get a sound night’s sleep. In the morning I sought Connie Mack and told him I felt fit and was ready to work if he wanted me.

Imagine my great joy when Connie, who has been a faithful friend through adversity and a lot of criticism, looked me squarely in the eye and said, “You will pitch today and you will win. Good luck.”

That’s all there was to it. The Cubs were surprised and so were a lot of our players, but it was really a last minute decision and I had the advantage of not knowing beforehand and worrying over the weather, the crowd, and a lot of other things that wear down a fellow’s nerves.

Ached During Warmup

When I started to warmup before the game, my arm ached and there a lot of skeptics who thought it was a stall. Cy Perkins watched me anxiously and I looked toward the bench to see if Connie wanted to know how I felt. He was laughing and paying absolutely no attention to me.

So I jumped into the river, as they say, and started to swim for myself. Right in the first inning, my shoulder started to ache again. Then English smacked a liner through the box, which I deflected toward Boley with my bare hand.

That drive hurt the second finger and I began to get nervous for the first time. It wasn’t until the second inning that I started to feel right when I struck out Cuyler and Stephenson.

Before that I had been experimenting on the batters. Then I began to cut loose. I fed Hornsby, Cuyler and Stephenson low, fast ones on the outside corner the remainder of the game, and I think I succeeded very well.

Occasionally I fooled them with a fast one over the heart of the plate. My main asset was my control. I was able to place the ball almost exactly where I wanted it, although on two occasions I got a little wild.

Saved Some for Pinch

As the game wore on, and I saw that Root was pitching as well as myself, I began to work a little harder, and at the same time kept a little in reserve in case of trouble.

I never felt in danger until the ninth. Then I almost saw victory fading from my grasp when Wilson’s hot smash struck me in the groin. I managed to pick up the ball and toss him out, but I was hurt and fell to the ground.

My mind went back to that game in Yankee Stadium a year ago when some unkind things were said when I hurt my right knee pitching against the Yankees and had to leave the game. I took a rest and then went back on the job of taming the Cubs.

Once we got ahead, which was when Jimmy Foxx blasted his homer, I knew I would win. I had a hunch in the morning. It was my day, the big event for which I had waited for sixteen years.

There isn’t a man in baseball who wouldn’t put out the last ounce of strength in his arm to win a game even if it meant he would never pitch again. Personally, I think with a few days rest I can try to win another.