(10 of 10)
On days off, Blue will shoot a game of pool or hit some golf balls at a near by driving range (he does both right-handed). Other times, he sits around his apartment listening to records (the Temptations, Aretha Franklin, Stevie Wonder) or talking baseball with the neighborhood kids, who are always stopping by. On occasion, he will accompany the kids to the playground — not to play but to umpire their games. "They haven't asked me to warm up yet," he says.
At the stadium, Blue doesn't merely toss the ball around in the outfield to warm up like the other players. He runs football pass patterns, zigzagging this way and that to haul in the "passes" of his teammates. In the clubhouse, he likes to don his Joe Namath jersey and run off a few plays with the club house boys. "Do I miss football? Sure.
There are times when I can see myself standing behind the Baltimore Colts' offensive line, calling audibles to pick up a blitz. But that doesn't mean that I don't love baseball. What the heck, I'm here."
He is indeed. But Vida is in fact a sport for all seasons. When he returns to Mansfield in the winter to stoke up on Mrs. Blue's collards and pork chops, the first thing he does is check out the high school football team. "I just go out to give them some hints," he says, "and before I know it, I find myself diagramming plays, giving a little chalk talk here and there." When the high schoolers are not practicing, Blue fills in at quarterback for a team of neighborhood kids, diligently running them through their paces, even in the rain and mud. When the football season ends, he can be found most afternoons in jeans, sneakers and sweatshirt working out with the DeSoto High basketball team. "It's just great," says Vida. "It makes me feel happy, and older too."
What would make him happiest of all would be for people to stop bugging him about game No. 30. Popping bubblegum or chewing on a toothpick ("They're part of my equipment," he says), Blue eases the pressure by cutting up with his teammates. But he cringes as soon as someone quizzes him about those other pieces of equipment: the two dimes that he always carries in his back pocket when he pitches. Rumor has it that they represent the 20 wins he expected to get this season. Blue is noncommittal. "Just say they are a little superstition of mine." Anything special about them? "Yeah. They have 'In God We Trust' on them."
Now he has a third dime, one that American League President Joe Cronin gave him at the All-Star Game. When someone asks if the 300 might signify 30 wins, Vida cringes some more. "Thirty wins!" he exclaims, slamming his fist down on a table. "There's that pressure again." Pleads Blue: "I'm not trying to break any records or strike out a lot of people. I just want to win. I'm not a real pitcher, not yet. I haven't really mastered my craft. I just want to do the best I can. I want to be a good professional. I want to be good at what I'm doing. I want to be the best." There are those who would say he already is.