Between the track and the football, when the sun is beginning to lower, comes a time between two and four-thirty, which is known as spring baseball practice.

What with football, lacrosse, track, and baseball, Briggs Cage caretakers recently have been masticating fingernails, hauling rakes, and lowering nets from noon until late in the evening. But the position of primary honor-the mid-afternoon-goes undisputedly to the National Pastime and the charges of pleasant, self-spoken Stuffy McInnis.

Mcinnis, the sort of coach who hates to cut anyone, has from now until mid April to trim sixty-odd athletes down to a respectable squad of about twenty-five. But although about a dozen members of the 1950 squad are available, the graying, former Philadelphia infielder refuses to admit that any berth on the team is a closed trust.

An ingenious arrangement of nets in the Cage-around the inside of the circling cinder track and down the middle with a protective T at the west end-permits three channels of activity. Pitching hopefuls loosen their arms in the shelter of the west side cross-netting, leaving the two major divisions of the building open for simultaneous batting practices.

Two at a time, the pitchers come into throw them up to the rapidly sharpening batting eyes of wise-cracking veterans although some are none too sure of their obs) and eager new candidates. Stuffy lovers over it all. "Keep the ball away from the pitcher," he calls to a batter. "Hit it to the left or right." The nervous man at the plate drills a fast one straight at the mound and the pitcher dives for the ground. The coach wipes his forehead and mutters, "Dirty practice balls are very hard to see." With Ira Godin, last year's mound star, graduated, Stuffy can't afford to lose any pitchers.

McInnis points to a young catcher who is handling one of the practices with maturity and smoothness. "Kid from Natick High," he explains. "He's going to be a pretty good ballplayer. Ernie Soucy (a former Harvard football star) sends him over from Natick. We've got to be nice to these kids. I think he's coming to Harvard next year."

When the sun is out in the early afternoon it gets very hot in the cage. One of the players-sweating off weight in a rubber suit under his blue-sleeved uniform--is obviously no kid. He's Elbie Fletcher, former Pittsburgh and Braves first baseman and a friend of Stuffy's. Fletcher, working with Bump Hadley on a Boston sports broadcast, spends considerable time working out with the varsity aspirants. "He's trying to get into shape to play with a western Massachusetts league this summer," somebody offers.

When the middle nets are pulled up and the area left wide open for infield practice, Fletcher wanders from one base to another, offering pointers. A few familiar faces dot the middle of the infield. At second, regular Tom Cavanaugh is battling it out with small but sure-handed sophomore John Canepa. The double-play combination runs off smoothly when Captain Johnny White steps in at shot to play the uneven dirt floor like a professional.

Another familiar figure, perspiring away the pounds, is last year's captain and first baseman, Johnny Caulfield. Caulfield is teaching math at Rindge Tech and hopes to step into an open baseball coaching job there.

Bright New Backstop

Charley Walsh, who understudied Cliff Crosby a year ago, looks good both with a bat and behind the pads. Walsh catches batting practices for a while and then goes over to handle the slants of a gangling right-hander, Bob Ward, who may be McInnis' number one pitcher this season. "See the smooth flow from the wind-up to the follow-through," says the coach. "He's not stopping and pushing the ball like some of these boys."

"The trouble is," he continues, "some of the fellows in this school have been pampered all their lives. You can't develop your arm when you have a governess doing everything for you. You and I," he confides (assuming correctly that this writer was one of da mob), "we built up a natural throwing ability by heaving rocks and broken bottles."

Mcinnis may not have any Murderers' Mound to throw against Eastern League batters, but in the Infield and outfield he has a wealth of material to choose from. And whether or not he admits it, he has already started choosing. By the time April 14 comes around, and the opening with Navy at Annapolis, the coach will be thinking of last year's Navy game, when Godin whipped the Middles in 17 innings.

Stuffy hopes that Ward, or someone, can do it this year.