Sport: Fun in the Basement

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Not long after sport-shirted Bill Veeck breezed into St. Louis and bought the hapless Browns, a pointed line was added to the score cards of their Sportsman's Park rivals: ''The Cardinals, a dignified St. Louis Institution." The note was good for a few tired jeers from fans who remembered the Cards' rowdy old Gas House Gang. But it was not the kind of hint to faze Showman Bill Veeck, who operates on the theory that baseball can be the greatest show on earth.

Veeck's first stunt to sell tickets for the Browns' games was. 'Drink on the House" day; fans turned out to guzzle 6,041 soft drinks and 7.596 bottles of beer. The next Veeck inspiration was a team band: Pitchers Al Widmar on bull fiddle and Satchel Paige on drums, Coach Ed Redys on accordion, in a concert at home plate.

"Play Ball." Then Veeck fetched up a gag calculated to rouse angry mutterings throughout baseball's official hierarchy. Against the Detroit Tigers, Veeck led off his batting order with the strangest figure ever to wear a major-league uniform: brandishing a toy bat, a midget (3 ft. 7 in.) named Ed Gaedel stepped up to the plate. Before the Tigers could protest, Manager Taylor produced a bona fide contract, and the baffled umpire said, "Play ball." Tiger Pitcher Bob Cain, obviously afraid of hitting the batter with a fast pitch, admitted defeat by giving Gaedel an intentional walk* (Final score: Tigers 6; Browns 2.) League President Will Harridge was not so delighted. He promptly told Veeck that midgets did not serve "the best interests of baseball," ordered Gaedel's "unconditional release."

But by week's end the Browns and their adherents were having more fun than ever in the basement. A thousand grandstand managers sitting in a special section of the stands used big cards labeled "yes" and "no" to run the Browns' strategy against the Athletics, choosing the lineup, directing the infield play and steering Pitcher Ned Garver to his isth win, 5 to 3.

"Real Productions." This week Bill Veeck was busily planning to continue his "real productions"—fireworks and aerial bombs which loose parachuting Old Glories, parades, dancing, and a pantomimistcontortionist in the role of first-base coach. Such zany antics are not likely to have much effect on the Browns' standing in the league. But to the disgust of Cardinal President Fred Saigh, who has yet to exchange a word with brash Bill Veeck, the Browns are pulling their biggest crowds of the year.