Saturday, June 16, 2007

Games of Sunday, April 27, 1947

First game:
Wenatchee .... 203 000 000— 2 7 3
Bremerton ...... 000 003 43x—10 10 2
Vivalda, Logg (7), Capps (8) and Dalrymple, Winter (6); Johnston and Volpi.
Second game
Wenatchee .... 000 000 0—0 5 1
Bremerton ...... 400 001 x—5 7 0
Sutherland and Winter; Federmeyer, Marshall (7) and Ronning.

First Game
Spokane ...... 020 003 0—5 6 2
Tacoma ....... 304 000 x—7 9 0
Werbowski, Zmitrovich (3) and Bufflap; Chetkovich and Kuper.
Second Game
Spokane ....... 000 000 210 01—4 6 4
Tacoma ........ 000 101 010 00—3 4 3
Spitzler, Latino (7) and Bufflap, Dimaria (8); Walden, Shapley (8), Greenlaw (9) and Clifford, Kuper (8).

(Only games scheduled)

[Vancouver Sun, April 28, 1947]
Those Caps Throw a Lucky Seven
It commences to look as if the four-game streak with which the Vancouver Capilanos opened the baseball season was merely a neat ruse designed to throw the opposition off the scent.
Last year, if you remember, the strategy devised by the Caps consisted of starting at the bottom and endeavoring to work down. This scheme was foiled by the rugged Victoria Athletics, who reached last place first and refused to budge.
Saturday afternoon yours truly went to visit the dugout of the 1947 Capilanos just before the matinee performance. The visit was fraught with some degree of danger, as large Bob Hall was there, in the flesh. Hall, whose smart pitching job last week admittedly surprised yours truly, is the fellow who at the Sunnyside training camp threatened, with good reason, to do yours truly bodily harm.
His feelings seemed to have cooled off, however. The club strong man probably realizes that he would feel pretty silly if I came apart in his hands.
For want of a bright remark, I asked manager Bill Brenner how it felt to be riding a five-game winning streak.
“Fine,” he said. “Now, if we could only win a couple more!”
That afternoon and evening they did win two more, under the usual unusual circumstances.
Some of Their Plays Confusing
As has become ritual, the Caps let Yakima take a wide lead. To do this they were forced to resort to some bad baseball. Several times they got two on base with none out. The sacrifice sign was automatic, but at least twice the Capilanos who were required to lay bunts on the carpet fell down on the chore, with dismal consequences.
Then Sandy Robertson, who did most of the afternoon pitching, was below par.
Once Sandy tried his change of pace, which has all the subtlety of an Abbot [sic] and Costello joke. The batter laughingly rapped it for two bases and the next man homered.
I hope I’m not being too harsh on Sandy, who is a likeable and earnest young man. He may have been below part due to playing a tough game of basketball the previous night, but he should have kept that change of his in the bullpen until it had been taught the facts of life.
Some of the Caps’ best plays need revision, especially the one in which they, immediately when they reach first, are picked off by the catcher.
The appealing thing about the club, however, is the fact that, when it gets behind the eight-ball, it suddenly realizes that there is man’s work to be done. Then again the infield, which is composed 100 percent of bright new faces, has come through with flags flying from the masthead despite dismal predictions.
Redhead Produces in Big Way
Without the bludgeoning of those kids in the infield, the current winning streak would have been cut off in its infancy. Len Tran, “Redhead” to his teammates, is going steadily about the job of making the fans forget there was a third baseman named Ray Orteig. It’s a bad night when Tran doesn’t rattle one of the fences in a clutch situation.
Around second base and shortstop Buddy Hjelmaa and Lee Mohr are setting up those double plays that so discourage opposition attacks. They are also hitting over and above the demands usually made of infielders. And at first base Lavis York, Boston Rudy’s younger brother, already is an established favorite.
The outstanding feature of the whole club, however, is the fight it shows. The fans are flocking back in ever-increasing numbers, attracted by the unique spectacle of a club that never knows when it is licked.
That old “Will you love me in September?” is always a fair question, but right now the Caps aren’t worrying much, apparently. They seem too busy winning ball games.

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