THE NATIONAL PASTIME

Editor: Stuart Shea

Design and Production: Lisa Hochstein

Cover Design: Lisa Hochstein

Fact Checker: Clifford Blau

Front cover: Chicago Skyline – Shutterstock.com

Ernie Banks – National Baseball Hall of Fame Library / Doug McWilliams

Minnie Minoso – National Baseball Hall of Fame Library

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The Society for American Baseball Research

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Contents

Introduction Stuart Shea

Sputtering Towards Respectability: Chicago’s Journey to the Big Leagues Brian McKenna

The Windy City – Collar City Connection:The Curious Relationship of Chicago’s and Troy (NY)’s Professional Baseball Teams (1870–82) Jeff Laing

Mike González:The First Hispanic Cub Lou Hernández

Bibb Falk: The Only Jockey in the Majors Matthew M. Clifford

Ted Lyons: 300 Wins—Closer with a Closer? Herm Krabbenhoft

Mel Almada: The First Hispanic to Homer at Several Historic American League Stadia Lou Hernández

Andy Pafko: Darling of the 1945 Cubs Joe Niese

Bill Murray’s Prediction Rob Edelman

The Top 10 Chicago White Sox Games of the 1950s Stephen D. Boren

Mr. Cub Joseph Wancho

How Good Was the White Sox’ Pitching in the 1960s? Brendan Bingham

The ’67 White Sox: “Hitless” Destiny’s Grandchild? Bryan Soderholm-Difatte

The Chicago White Sox, 1968–70: Three Years in Hell Sam Pathy

Black Sox on Film Rob Edelman

If Gil Hodges Managed the Cubs and Leo Durocher the Mets in 1969, Whose “Miracle” Would it Have Been? Mort Zachter

Split Season 1981, Chicago Style Jeff Katz

Palmer House Stars Leslie Heaphy

The Peculiar Professional Baseball Career of Eddie Gaedel Eric Robinson

When They Were Just Boys: Chicago and Youth Baseball Take Center Stage Alan Cohen

Stories of the White Sox: Farrell, Lardner, and Algren James Hawking

Curse of the Billy Goat: An Adaptive Coping Strategy for Cubs Fans Jeremy Ashton Houska, Ph.D.

Of Black Sox, Ball Yards, and Monty Stratton: Chicago Baseball Movies Rob Edelman

Memories That Will Never Go-Go Francis Kinlaw

Chicago Goes Hollywood: The Cubs, Wrigley Field, and Popular Culture David Krell

Buying the White Sox: A Comic Opera Starring Bill Veeck, Hank Greenberg, and Chuck Comiskey John Rosengren

William Hulbert: Father of Professional Sports Leagues David Bohmer

The Western Baseball Tours of 1879 Brock Helander

The Legacy of the Players League’s 1890 Chicago Pirates Gordon Gattie

There Was Almost No World Series in 1905, Too: How Charlie Comiskey Could Have Ended the Fall Classic Before it Started Chuck Hildebrandt

The Last Best Day: When Chicago Had Three First-Place Teams Mark S. Sternman

Why did Wrigley, Lasker, and the Chicago Cubs Join a Presidential Campaign? Mark Souder

Silas K. Johnson: An Illinois Farm Boy Who Made Baseball History Matthew M. Clifford

A Fall Classic Comedy, Game Six, 1945 John Rosengren

Bears, Cubs, and a Moose, Oh My Joseph Wancho

Dean of Chicanery: Jerry Reinsdorf’s Plan to Enlist Hank Greenberg to Umpire the Northwestern Law School Student-Faculty Game and How it BackfiredJohn Rosengren

“Don’t Tell Them Any Different”: ‘Don Kessinger Night’ Caps a Long Career Mark Randall

Lasting Impressions of Harry Caray Suzanne Wright

The Game That Was Not: Philadelphia Phillies at Chicago Cubs, August 8, 1988 Steven Glassman

The Chicago History Museum’s Baseball Photo Treasure Trove: The Chicago Daily News Glass Plate Negative Collection Mark Fimoff

From the North Side to the Deep South Francis Kinlaw

Contributors

Introduction

Growing up in Chicago in the early 1970s was about as good an environment for a young baseball fan as could be hoped for.

Not only were the Cubs and Sox competitive—sometimes even at the same time!—it was also very easy to get involved in the daily struggle of both teams. Chicago had several daily newspapers, all of which covered the teams thoroughly, and the Cubs and Sox both showed a heavy majority of their games on television. I later learned that this privilege was not enjoyed by most other fans, outside of maybe those in New York.

The Cubs televised all their home games and most road games on WGN, Channel 9, while the White Sox showed most home and road contests on WFLD, Channel 32, and then WSNS, Channel 44. The games not shown were mostly late-night contests from San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Anaheim, or Oakland, most of which were past my bedtime anyhow.

Of course, the radio was always on during the summer, so I heard plenty of the Cubs (on WGN) and Sox (on WEAW, then WMAQ) when riding in my parents’ car, or on a transistor while flying my bike down the streets of Evanston, playing ball at the park, sitting on the porch, or walking through the neighborhood.

It was the voices of those teams, and that time—Vince Lloyd, Lou Boudreau, Harry Caray, Jack Brickhouse, and even Bob Waller and Jim West—that helped form my love for baseball. I owe them all a great deal; they were enthusiastic, friendly, and knew how to tell stories. I found the game and the way they covered it to be enthralling. Nearly all of those men are gone now, and those times are well beyond the rear-view mirror, but I still remember how much of a buzz it was for me to dive headfirst into baseball in my preteen years.

I had that same feeling of discovery reading through the articles for this issue of The National Pastime. In these pages (and in the other superb articles available in the digital edition of TNP at sabr.org), dedicated researchers and thinkers show the fruits of their work. There are biographies, previously untold stories, forgotten chunks of history that shaped the game, statistical studies, and even poems, all about Chicago’s impact on our game and about the players who have passed through the Windy City on their way to eternity.

It was only by fortune that we had a biography of Cubs idol Ernie Banks planned when he passed away. I am sorry we couldn’t do the same for his White Sox counterpart, the late Orestes “Minnie” Minoso. My hope is that the passel of fascinating South Side baseball history presented in this and the online edition will compensate for Minnie’s absence.

Bouquets go to Cecilia Tan, SABR’s Publications Director, for her faith in my abilities. Cliff Blau is the world’s greatest fact-checker and Lisa Hochstein a great designer with seemingly endless patience. I appreciate Marc Appleman’s commitment to the printed (and digitally printed) word, and I thank Mark Fimoff for helping with some critical photo identification. John Horne at the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum provided superb photos with speed and courtesy.

I express my highest gratitude to the writers and researchers who contributed their hard work to this journal, and to you, dear reader, for your interest in baseball history and your support of SABR.

Stuart Shea

Editor

Sputtering Towards Respectability: Chicago’s Journey to the Big Leagues

Brian McKenna

The city of Chicago, already a hub of growth, became more important in the mid-nineteenth century once the Erie Canal linked it with the east coast and rail lines extended their reach throughout the emerging nation.

Still, by the definition of the time, Chicago was still a “western city.” Serious development of the area was impossible until the settlement of the Black Hawk War in 1833. [i] In significant matters—politics, business, social, and cultural—Chicago played catch-up with the deep-rooted and wealthy eastern cities.

This was also true in baseball, a sport becoming defined by the formal “New York” rules. Yet as quickly as it created itself, Chicago established its interest in the national game. Clubs were playing by the New York rules even earlier than eastern cities like Baltimore and Washington, D.C. But because of its location, Chicago did not join the sport’s formal organization, the National Association of Base Ball Players, until 1867.

This happened to be the year professionalism began to proliferate throughout baseball. Because of their willingness to compensate players, whether directly or indirectly, and because of the greater opportunities that could be found for players, eastern clubs fielded the best nines. In order to catch up, the west had to tap that resource—that is, lure the talent west.

The first club to do this was the Red Stockings of Cincinnati, who in 1869 experienced astonishing success: an incredible winning streak and a coast-to-coast barnstorming tour that transformed the sport. Chicago wanted a piece of that success, as well as the accolades befitting its place among the top cities of the nation. The road to respectability for Chicago baseball, however, was characterized by a start-stop nature rather than a smooth, flowing path.

In late 1869, Chicago interests sent agents east to lure top baseball talent. This process would be repeated as needed during much of the next decade. Several hiccups occurred along the way, including a harsh local press, interfering shareholders, and a ruinous fire that destroyed not only the city’s premier ballpark but also caused an absence of a top professional team in the city for two seasons. The successes were notable but fleeting. The early seasons were, in fact, stellar for the newly-formed White Stockings, but following the 1871 Chicago Fire, the club floundered and disbanded. A new club was formed the next year.

By 1875, the club’s new president, William Hulbert, had tolerated eastern dominance for too long and took matters into his own hands. He robbed the nation’s top club, Boston, of four of its top men, overthrew the existing National Association, and formed a new professional organization: the National League. Chicago won the first NL championship in 1876 and placed the city among the sport’s elite, a position it has never relinquished.

Baseball would, for many decades, feel the imprint of Chicago influences: Hulbert, Al Spalding, Ban Johnson, Charles Comiskey, Rube Foster, and Kenesaw Landis, to name a few.

THE EARLY YEARS

Baseball, or at least a form of it, was played in and around Chicago before the first rail lines arrived. ii The city’s first formal baseball organization was the Union Club, probably an offshoot of the Union Cricket Club, which incorporated on August 12, 1856. iii The Excelsior Club organized the following year but distinguished itself by immediately adopting the New York style of play. iv

Match play—pitting one club’s skills against another—kicked off July 7, 1858, when the Unions hosted the nearby community of Downers Grove. The cordial contest, won by the visitors, was followed by a round of gentlemanly speeches and a visit to the theater, with all combatants still proudly wearing their uniforms. [v] The meeting also sparked an immediate call for local clubs to convene and hash out a standard set of rules, which would form the basis of any future competition. A local reporter, anticipating that “some alteration is to be made as to the manner of playing,” outlined the New York rules, which had been garnering attention of late. vi The convention, held July 21, resulted in the forming of the Chicago Base Ball Club and approving the adoption of the New York rules. vii

In August, the Unions formally challenged the Excelsiors on the grounds of the Prairie Cricket Club, using New York rules. The first contest took place on August 30 with the Excelsiors triumphing 17–11. viii In a return match on September 13, the Excelsiors won again, 30–17. “Speech making, pleasant repartee, merry jokes, and singing” at the Union Park House followed the contest. The editors of the Chicago Press and Tribune were “glad to note the good feeling that was evinced by the members of each club on this occasion, and trust that our citizens will take more interest in this truly healthful and entertaining game.” ix

Several new clubs (the Olympics, Columbias, and Atlantics) heeded the call for 1859. The Excelsiors and Atlantics established themselves as the city’s premier clubs and battled for local bragging rights over the next decade. On Saturday, June 11, the two met before 500 spectators, many of them female. The Excelsiors again took the victory. The Atlantics claimed the rematch in July then eked out an 18–16 win in the rubber match in August to, in essence, claim the championship of the city.

Baseball fever took hold of Chicago in 1860 as more clubs organized and match play exploded. [x] Taking the losses of ’59 to heart, “The Excelsior forces are greatly strengthened this season by the ascension to their ranks of several prominent players, formerly of the Columbian Club.” xi The Atlantics, however, again took the season series before the largest crowds in the city to date.

“ Chicago was a growing metropolis with more than 112,000 residents. It was a city bursting with physical development, economic growth, and political vitality. The Republican Party’s choice of Chicago for its national convention that year put the city on the political map and infused it with energy…on June 18 in Baltimore, [Chicago resident] Stephen A. Douglas won the nomination of his divided Democratic Party, and Chicagoans must have appreciated the unlikely scenario of two Illinois men battling for the nation’s highest office.” xii

Abraham Lincoln, known and respected in Chicago, was elected to the presidency in the fall and the country descended into civil war. With many Chicago-area ballplayers having enlisted, clubs went dormant and the sport floundered in the city until after the war. The only notable matches during the war were a little-followed city series between the Garden City and Osceola clubs in 1863, a series between Garden City and a Freeport, Illinois nine the same year, and some play in 1864 among the men of the nineteenth Illinois Infantry.

Many believe the Civil War to be the catalyst spreading baseball through the country. In fact, the war stymied the game’s growth to a threatening extent. Luckily, the lure of the sport and Americans’ thirst for exercise and recreation brought a renewal in 1865—that is, once Chicago had properly mourned the assassination of President Lincoln.

DRIVING TOWARD PROFESSIONALISM

Many prewar players moved on and a new breed took over in 1865. The proud Excelsiors and Atlantics regrouped in late summer along with new clubs like the Ogdens, Pacifics, and Pioneers. The season ended with a tournament at the Winnebago County Fair Grounds, but matters ended inauspiciously; the Excelsiors walked off the field in the deciding match after the umpire reversed a call after a plea by the challengers. xiii

The call in December 1865 to form the Northwestern Association of Base-Ball Players sparked the game’s revival in the middle west. The Atlantics, Excelsiors, and Pacifics of Chicago joined fellow clubs from Illinois and seven other states to promote the sport. xiv The fever was such that a game was even played on ice over the winter at the Washington Skating Park. xv

For the 1866 season, the Excelsiors added a recruit from the east: pitcher C. J. McNally. This proved effective as the club won both of the season’s major tournaments to claim the championship of the west. The tournaments were the biggest baseball events to date for western sportsmen. The Rockford tournament, held in late-June, attracted clubs from Detroit, Bloomington, Rockford, Milwaukee, and Freeport as well as Chicago’s Excelsiors and Atlantics. The Excelsiors took the honors—and the prize of a gold ball—as McNally won the key game over the soon-to-be famous Al Spalding of the Rockford Forest Citys.

The field at the Bloomington tournament in September was even more impressive, including “the Union and Empire clubs of St. Louis; the Olympics of Peoria; the Pacifics of Chicago; the Perseverance club of Ottawa; the Louisville and Olympic clubs of Louisville; the Cream Citys of Milwaukee; the Forest City and Empire clubs of Freeport; the Capitol club of Springfield; the Hardin club of Jacksonville, Ill.; two Quincy clubs; and the Excelsiors of Chicago. A feature of this tournament was a specially built amphitheatre (sic) designed to allow spectators to witness two games at once…Again the Excelsiors were victorious, taking the series in impressive style.” xvi The Excelsiors, the Champions of the West, finished the season 6–0 in match play.

Black clubs also formed in Chicago after the war. One such was the Blue Stockings, a group of hotel and restaurant employees. xvii This nine gained notoriety in August 1870 for taking a series with the Pink Stockings of Rockford. The following month, however, they were excluded by decree from the city amateur tournament. xviii Over the winter, some Blue Stockings hopped to the Uniques and the reinforced nine became the first black club in baseball history which, according to James Brunson, “established themselves regionally and nationally.”

After topping the Blue Stockings 39 – 5 to claim city supremacy, the Uniques played and beat a white nine, the Alerts, 17–16 on July 10, 1871 . Noting the oddness of the interracial game, the Chicago Tribune commented, “…Contestants were the Unique Club (colored) and the Alert (not as much so).” xix The Uniques took off for the east at the end of the summer, stopping in Washington D.C., Baltimore, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and Troy. They split a series with the strong Alerts of D.C. and Pythians of Philadelphia and topped the other clubs, claiming bragging rights as the champions of the West.

In 1867, the Amateurs, Atlantics, Eurekas, and Excelsiors of Chicago joined the eastern-based National Association of Base Ball Players. xx The Excelsiors started the season well, taking a series over the Atlantics and topping the Rockfords twice to further strengthen their claim as the class of the region.

The most-anticipated event of the summer was the July arrival in Chicago of the Nationals of Washington, D.C., who were barnstorming during the sport’s first western tour. The Nationals even carried Harry Chadwick, baseball’s great chronicler, in tow. The Nationals were set to play Spalding’s Forest Citys of Rockford, the Excelsiors, and the Atlantics. In a bit of a stunner, Spalding topped the Nationals 29–23. This was the D.C. club’s only loss during the ten-game tour, which also took them to Columbus, Cincinnati, Louisville, Indianapolis, and St. Louis.

Chicago eagerly awaited the Nationals/Excelsiors matchup, anticipating victory since the Excelsiors had defeated the Forest Citys as recently as the beginning of the month. The Excelsiors, however, were embarrassed by the Nationals 49–4. The loss hurt not only the Excelsiors’ self-esteem but also their standing in local baseball circles as the club became the butt of many a joke.

Chicagoans could not stand the second-rate status held by the nation’s western cities, whether it was in politics, business, or baseball. The humiliating loss to the Nationals reverberated throughout the city and helped drive the actions of local sportsmen and supporters for much of the next decade. It also led directly to professionalism in Chicago.

Though officially “amateur,” the Excelsiors began recruiting top players from the east and west, offering high-paying jobs during the week in return for their skill and diligence on the ball field. For the latter part of the season, they brought in left fielder John Zeller xxi from the Mutuals of New York and a pitcher named Keenan from the Bloomingtons. Other alleged professionals with the Excelsiors in 1867 include Al Spalding, C. J. McNally, and Tom Foley. xxii

With the new recruits, the Excelsiors breezed through a tournament in Decatur in September, whipping the Egyptians of Centralia 79–9, and a hand-picked team 44–6. xxiii On October 5 in Chicago, Keenan and his sluggers handily topped the Detroits in a heavily-anticipated match. xxiv In Detroit on the 19th, the Excelsiors brought in Al Spalding for a game to help Keenan and the club beat Detroit again 36–24. The Excelsiors finished the year 10–1; their only loss since the end of the war was the rout by the Nationals.

For 1868, the Excelsiors imported Harry Lex and James Hoyt from Philadelphia. xxv The club faltered out of the gate against stiff competition, however, suffering losses to the Forest Citys of Rockford, Athletics of Philadelphia, Atlantics of Brooklyn, and Buckeyes of Cincinnati. After the July 21 loss to the Buckeyes, the club imploded; several players jumped ship and the club weighed merging with another. The Chicago Tribune lambasted, “Chicago needs a representative club; an organization as great as her enterprise and wealth, one that will not allow the second rate clubs of every village in the Northwest to carry away the honors in base ball…The Excelsiors cannot fill the bill.” xxvi

Luckily, a major fundraising effort allowed the Excelsior club to hire the talent needed to win and showcase the nine. xxvii After losing to the strong Unions of Morrisania on August 10, the Excelsiors hired New Yorkers Fred Treacey, Joe Simmons (a much-needed catcher), and Bill Lennon from Brooklyn. They then hit the road after a loss to Detroit and two wins over Buffalo and Cleveland clubs. They drew with Detroit in Detroit, lost to Harry Wright and his Red Stockings in Cincinnati, and topped three mediocre clubs in St. Louis. xxviii But the new hirees and traveling costs proved to be too expensive and management folded the Excelsiors.

Amateur clubs met with meager success in Chicago in 1868 and 1869. The Atlantics disbanded as well, leaving the city little baseball to boast about. Another western club, though, soon took center stage in baseball circles, broadening the game’s appeal and reigniting Chicago’s pride as a western city and in its baseball.

The sport’s first openly-declared professional squad, Cincinnati’s Red Stockings, dominated baseball in 1869 in the west and east. This impelled Chicago to amass a squad of the best talent available regardless of cost. The amateur ideal surely wasn’t going to get Chicago what it so dearly craved—respect from and bragging rights over the east.

1870 xxix

Late in 1869, 48 Chicago businessmen met and formed the Chicago Base Ball Association, intending to develop a professional squad in the mold of the Red Stockings, one which could compete and defeat the best in the country. These men wanted not only to show their superiority over eastern nines but also to supplant the Red Stockings as the west’s dominant team. xxx Shares and honorary memberships were sold, at $25 and $10 respectively, raising more than $15,000.

This was baseball’s first stock venture; previously clubs had been social in nature, raising funds primarily through member fees. “The Chicago businessmen eliminated the dues-paying club membership, instead raising capital through the sale of stock. The joint-stock company was a familiar business model in the booming Chicago economy. This was the organizational model of the future. By 1876 all top professional clubs followed the pattern, which continues to this day.” xxxi

Tom Foley, a local billiards hall owner, was the team’s new business manager, overseeing day-to-day operations. Among his first assignments was to head east and sign players for the 1870 season. He went to Philadelphia and New York and even placed an ad in the New York Clipper in hopes of attracting some top players. xxxii

Foley’s efforts proved fruitful but expensive. Catcher Bill Craver was signed for $2,500. xxxiii Captain and second baseman Jimmy Wood was paid $2,000. Most of the others were paid between $1,500 and $2,000. Many of the players were taken from the Eckfords of Brooklyn, Unions of Lansingburgh (a.k.a. Haymakers of Troy), and Athletics of Philadelphia. The nine:

- Pitcher – Ed Pinkham (Eckfords), Levi Meyerle (Athletics) xxxiv

- Catcher – Craver (Unions), Charles Hodes (Eckfords)

- First base – Bub McAtee (Unions)

- Second base – Jimmy Wood (Eckfords)

- Third base – Meyerle

- Shortstop – Ed Duffy (Eckfords)

- Outfield – Ned Cuthbert (Athletics), Fred Treacey (Eckfords), Clipper Flynn (Unions)

- Utility – Mart King (Unions)

This group became Chicago’s first professional nine. xxxv Foley then sought a dedicated, enclosed ball grounds. The park was erected inside the oval of a race track at Dexter Park. A grandstand, with seating for 12,000 plus standing room, was built around the field. xxxvi

With its grounds under construction, the club headed south for a series of games in St. Louis, Algiers (Louisiana), New Orleans, and Memphis. Despite suffering general malaise and intestinal troubles during the trip from drinking southern water, the Chicagos played to win. In one game, they smoked the Bluff Citys of Memphis by the outrageous score of 157–1. Memphis begged the Stockings to allow them to put some runs up, but Jimmy Wood would have none of it; his men would play hard no matter the score. xxxvii

The Chicagos gained the nickname “White Stockings” by the time they took the field in St. Louis. “The Chicago nine were clad in their new uniform, which they had donned for the first time [in St. Louis]…It consisted of a blue cap adorned with a white star in the center, white flannel shirt, trimmed with blue and bearing the letter C upon the breast worked in blue. Pants of bright blue flannel, with white cord, and supporting a belt of blue and white; stockings of pure white British thread; shoes of white goat skin, with customary spikes, the ensemble constituting by far the showiest and handsomest uniform ever started by a base ball club.” xxxviii

The dapper crew proved to be a strong nine; in fact, they won all 30 contests they played through July 2, although most of their opponents were second-rate. In mid-June, the White Stockings took off for an extended tour, their first, which saw them play strong squads from Cleveland, Buffalo, Rochester, Syracuse, Troy, Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington, D.C. They defeated the Eckfords and Unions—clubs they had previously decimated by signing their top players—but fell to the toughest eastern nines: the Atlantics of Brooklyn and twice to both the Mutuals of New York and Athletics of Philadelphia. They even dropped a game to Harvard and then lost another to the Unions.

In the eyes of the Chicago press, the tour had begun disastrously. Local sportswriters were extremely critical and the eastern ones condescending, especially after the White Stockings were buzzed 9–0 by the Mutuals on July 23. The term ‘Chicagoed’ (to be blanked) was born. Reeling from the criticism, stockholders began meddling in day-to-day affairs. Due to the travel and high salaries, the team stood $3,000 in debt by mid-August. Management reorganized and brought in Norman T. Gassette to take over the presidency. xxxix

Gassette demanded autonomy but gave Jimmy Wood and Tom Foley control over day-to-day team affairs without much interference. Bill Craver, alleged to have gambled and fixed games, was expelled from the club for violating his contract. xl

The White Stockings finished the season strong, arguably making them the best team in the country at season’s end. Henry Chadwick, as he was wont to do, claimed a piece of the success by declaring that the club’s fortunes turned around only after he gave Jimmy Wood a piece of advice: adopt a deader ball.

Dead ball or not, the White Stockings lost just once after August 5, pulling off some impressive road wins over the Atlantics, Athletics, Mutuals, Eckfords, and Red Stockings. After topping the Red Stockings in Cincinnati 10–6 on September 7, the White Stockings were greeted as conquering heroes by 3,000 fans at downtown Union Station. It had been a bit of a rocky season, but the win over their midwest rival healed all.

Excitement over an impending rematch electrified the city, and on October 13, 20,000 fans attended the game versus the Red Stockings at spacious Dexter Park. It may have been the biggest crowd in baseball history to that point. The White Stockings won again, 16–13, sparking celebrations and civic pride. In total, Chicago finished with a 65–8 record. Not even having the Mutuals storm off the field in protest in the ninth inning of the final game of the season on November 1 could dampen the club’s pride in its success.

Over the winter, Gassette laid out $4,000 of his own money to cover payroll and to sign new players. He also funded an eastern trip by Foley to lure new talent.

NATIONAL ASSOCIATION

That winter, a rift between amateur and professional players brought down the long-established National Association of Base Ball Players. Shortly after, in March 1871, the professional National Association was formed. The White Stockings immediately joined the new pro circuit, which is in effect a predecessor of the National League.

Also in March, Chicago’s city council granted the team use of a small plot of land on the lakefront. Dexter Park, on Halsted between 42 nd and 47 th Streets on what is now the city’s south side, was poorly located, too far from downtown.

The new property, however, was in poor shape, with piles of debris and trash scattered about. At a cost of $5,000, the club had a 7,500-seat facility erected. This, the first enclosed baseball-dedicated park in Chicago, would be known as White Stockings Grounds. The limited space led to necessarily quirky dimensions, which in 1871 included a short right field wall.

That season’s White Stockings featured holdovers King, McAtee, Treacey, Wood, and Duffy, with Wood and Tom Foley continuing to run day-to-day affairs. Joe Simmons, a former local Excelsior player, was obtained from Rockford and George Zettlein, a top eastern pitcher, was added from the Atlantics of Brooklyn.

The White Stockings were among the top clubs in the National Association, sitting near first place all season. Chicago’s last home game occurred on October 7, at which time they stood tied with the Athletics for the best winning average (.720, 18–7) in official contests. By the NA’s rules, however, Boston led the circuit with its 20 victories, albeit compiling “just” a .667 winning percentage. After returning from a hard-fought eastern trip and a win over the Boston Red Stockings on September 29, Gassette rewarded the men with expensive gifts, including a home for pitcher Zettlein. Then disaster struck.

On October 8, a fire ripped through Chicago; it raged for three days. The White Stockings’ ballpark was destroyed on October 9 along with the team’s adjoining business offices. Moreover, they lost their uniforms, equipment, record books, receipts, and on-hand cash. “The loss of the members of the nine was generally heavy, consisting of all their clothing and personal property. The only exceptions were Foley, Atwater, and Captain Wood, who all lived outside the limits of the fire.” xli

In despair, the White Stockings formally released all their players. The men regrouped in the east, though—save Atwater—to play some contests. Three of these games counted in the standings, including the championship. Two thousand spectators, a fair share of who were Chicagoans and Philadelphians, showed for the deciding contest, held at Union Grounds in Brooklyn. The Athletics won 4–1 to settle the matter. The men then scattered and the club folded for good.

In April 1872, Gassette and fifty others formed the new Chicago Base Ball Association with the immediate intention of erecting suitable grounds with which to entice top clubs to play in Chicago. Naturally, the long-term goal was to rebuild a top level club once again for Chicago. xlii

The 23 rd Street Grounds opened at the end of May 1872 at a cost approaching $4,000. William A. Hulbert became a club director in July, his first official position with the club. xliii Baltimore, Cleveland, New York, Philadelphia, and Troy made the trip to Chicago during the summer to play at the new ballpark, and the project actually proved profitable, as the team finished the year about $400 in the black.

In August 1873, Gassette and Jimmy Wood hit the east coast to amass a nine for 1874. The effort proved successful and professional baseball returned to the Windy City.

The 1874 White Stockings included top names such as Jim Devlin, Davy Force, and Paul Hines. Former Chicago players Jimmy Wood, Ned Cuthbert, Levi Meyerle, George Zettlein, and Fred Treacey were on board. Wood was slated to captain the club once again, but while trying to lance an abscess on his left leg, he instead gashed his right leg badly enough to lead to infection and eventually amputation. xliv Wood did return in August as field manager, though.

While pro baseball was back in Chicago, the 1874 and 1875 White Stockings were of second-division quality. Sloppy play brought fan disillusionment and even an unfounded charge of game-fixing. In August 1874, William Hulbert assumed the day-to-day management of the club, a responsibility he maintained until his death in April 1882. That year, the White Stockings finished fifth in the eight-team organization with a 28–31 record.

Davy Force’s contract became an issue over the winter. He first re-signed with Chicago for 1875 and then inked a deal with the Athletics. At first, the National Association awarded him to Chicago, but after the organization installed a Philadelphia-based president, the decision was reversed. xlv An incensed Hulbert, feeling cheated perhaps with good cause, xlvi would soon get his revenge.

BIRTH OF A NEW LEAGUE

Hulbert, a grocer by trade, married the daughter of his employer, eventually taking over the company and expanding into the coal trade. He also held a prestigious and influential position on the Chicago Board of Trade. The 200-pound Hulbert was loud and authoritarian and usually got his own way.

The White Stockings disappointed in the standings in 1875 but had another good year financially. The National Association itself, however, had numerous troubles, including gambling, game-fixing, and excessive revolving (that is, players jumping clubs). That Boston copped each pennant from 1872 to 1875 riled Hulbert, and some others, to no end. Financial instability plagued the organization, which fielded too many clubs, especially in small markets. Expensive trips between the east and west and the travails of multiple unstable clubs in Philadelphia also taxed the business model.

Hulbert added to the NA’s woes by pulling an old Chicago trick: luring players from eastern clubs. During June 1875 he negotiated with and signed much of Boston’s roster for the 1876 Chicago White Stockings. Hulbert brought over Al Spalding, Cal McVey, Deacon White, and Ross Barnes. Spalding, the sport’s best pitcher, was the key component. Hulbert liked the fact that he was originally a western player and intelligent to boot. On June 26, Spalding, in turn, recruited Athletics players Cap Anson and Ezra Sutton, though Sutton later reneged.

The infighting and strain clouded the National Association all winter. Concerns existed that the players moving to Chicago could be expelled from the NA. In order to prevent this, and to usurp control from the east, Hulbert organized several western clubs and set out to form the new National League.

With the western clubs on board, he approached the eastern owners in February 1876. Hulbert extended an olive branch, offering the NL’s presidency to an eastern owner, Morgan Bulkeley of Hartford. It was clear to all, however, that Hulbert was the driving force behind the new endeavor.

It seems that the new departure was, from the first, a Chicago idea, and without desiring to detract from the good judgment of the club managers who came into it after it had been explained to them, it should go on record that the president of the Chicago Club is to be credited with having planned, engineered, and carried the most important reform since the history of the game, and the one which will do most to elevate it. xlvii

Baseball’s oldest league, the National League, kicked off two months later. Hulbert’s efforts paid immediate dividends as the White Stockings took the new organization’s first pennant, firmly planting Chicago as standard-bearer of the national game.

SOURCES

- Brunson, James Edward. The Early Image of Black Baseball: Race and Representation in the Popular Press, 1871-1890 . Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland and Company, 2009.

- Chicago Daily Inter Ocean, 1874-1875

- Chicago Press and Tribune, 1858-1860

- Chicago Tribune, 1860-1876

- Cleveland Herald, 1870

- Freedman, Stephen. Journal of Sports History, “The Baseball Fad in Chicago, 1865-1870: An Exploration of the Role of Sports in the Nineteenth-Century City,” Summer 1978.

- Hartford Courant, 1871

- New York Clipper, 1870

- New York Sun, 1869

- New York World, 1874

- Milwaukee Sentinel, 1870

- Morris, Peter and others. Base Ball Pioneers, 1850-1871 . Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2012.

- Ohio Democrat, New Philadelphia, 1870

- Ohio City Derrick, Pennsylvania, 1870

- Peterson, Todd . Baseball Research Journal, “ May the Best Man Win: Black Ball Championships,” Spring 2013.

- Retrosheet.org

- Smiley, Richard A., “The Life and Times of Norman T. Gassette,” prepared for SABR Nineteenth Century Committee conference, April 18, 2009

- Sporting Life, October 28, 1885

- Titusville Herald, Pennsylvania, 1871

- Wisconsin State Journal, Madison, 1870

- Wright, Marshall D. The National Association of Base Ball Players, 1857-1870 . Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company, 2000.

i Encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org

ii

“There were well established teams throughout the state of Illinois as early as those of Chicago, if not earlier. Indeed, the Lockport Telegraph of August 6, 1851, tells of a game between the Hunkidoris of Joliet and the Sleepers of Lockport, that antedates anything similar for Chicago.” Federal Writers’ Project, Baseball in Old Chicago . (Illinois: Works Project Administration, 1939)

iii

Peter Morris, Baseball Pioneers: 1850-1870, “Excelsiors of Chicago, Prewar.” (Jefferson, North Carolina and London: McFarland & Company Inc., 2012)

iv

Chicago Daily Republican, August 17, 1865

v

Chicago Press and Tribune, July 8, 1858. Clubs of the early era generally corresponded with each other asking if the other would like to play a game. The offer and acceptance would then be made public in the form of a challenge. Thus, greater attendance and newspaper coverage followed. If a public notice wasn’t made, only word of mouth among participants, friends and family, in early 1858 or previous years, there in fact may have been match games that were not reported. The arrival of the Downer’s Grove club in town may have sparked this coverage, even if no public notice was given.

vi

Chicago Press and Tribune, July 9, 1858. Inferring from this immediate call to standardize the rules, it seems to me that the Union club may have been a holdout on the New York rules. The local Excelsiors already played by the New York rules, which is why the reporter anticipated “some altercation” in the matter. At the meeting, the Unions agreed to the New York style. This probably had something to do with Downers Grove, or more specifically, to adopting rules complimentary with adjoining communities to ease future issues. On a larger scale, this process was repeated over and over until the New York rules came to dominate the baseball landscape throughout the nation.

vii

Federal Writers’ Project, Baseball in Old Chicago . (Illinois: Works Project Administration, 1939) The Chicago Base Ball Club was not a ball club but rather a governing body for the sport in Chicago.

viii

Chicago Press and Tribune, September 1, 1858

ix

Chicago Press and Tribune, September 4, 1858

x

At least 14 clubs engaged in match play during the season.

xi

Chicago Press and Tribune, August 24, 1860

xii

Stacy Pratt McDermott, “ Base Balls and Ballots: The National Pastime and Illinois Politics during Abraham Lincoln's Time.” (Thenationalpastimemuseum.com )

xiii

Peter Morris, Baseball Pioneers: 1850-1870, “Excelsiors of Chicago, Postwar.” (Jefferson, North Carolina and London: McFarland & Company Inc., 2012)

xiv

Chicago Tribune, December 7, 1865

xv

Chicago Tribune, January 26, 1866

xvi

Federal Writers’ Project, Baseball in Old Chicago . (Illinois: Works Project Administration, 1939)

xvii

Other early black clubs included the Uniques, Oaklands, Red-Hots, Socials, and Gordons.)

xviii

Chicago Tribune, September 17, 1870

xix

Chicago Tribune, July 11, 1871

xx

In 1867, there were at least 45 amateur clubs in Chicago, a total that decreased over the next few years.

xxi

Zeller fractured his knee running the bases in August 1868, one of the worst accidents for a Chicago ballplayer during the era.

xxii

Chicago Tribune, December 30, 1877

xxiii

Chicago Tribune, September 20 and 21, 1867

xxiv

Chicago Tribune, October 6, 1867

xxv

Chicago Tribune, December 30, 1877

xxvi

Chicago Tribune, July 22, 1868

xxvii

Chicago Tribune, July 24 and 28, 1868

xxviii

Peter Morris, Baseball Pioneers: 1850-1870, “Excelsiors of Chicago, Postwar.” (Jefferson, North Carolina and London: McFarland & Company Inc., 2012)

xxix

By 1870, more than 50 company clubs existed in Chicago; some companies fielded more than one nine.

xxx

Chicago Tribune, November 26, 1869

xxxi

Richard Hershberger, Baseball Research Journal, “Chicago’s Role in Early Professional Baseball” (Phoenix, Arizona: Society for American Baseball Research, Spring 2011). Admission fees developed slowly in Chicago. Space was tight in the city and many of the ball lots couldn’t accommodate too many fans. Many games were played along the lakeshore or took place outside the city in the vast prairies that surrounded Chicago, especially in communities that naturally extended into the prairies. Admission fees first developed when many clubs came together for area tournaments, as by definition most of the clubs had traveling expenses to cover. The matches with the D.C. nine back in 1867 were specifically called a tournament so that fees could be collected.

xxxii

Tom Foley is not to be confused with Chicago ballplayer Thomas James Foley who played with the Excelsiors in 1866-1868 and umpired in the National Association.

xxxiii

Craver was actually signed much later—well into 1870.

xxxiv

Here is a quote by John Thorn, at Our Game blog at MLB.com, discussing the earliest known existing professional contract : “At the Baseball Hall of Fame exists a contract between the new Chicagos and Levi Meyerle, formerly of the Athletic Club of Philadelphia. The two parties agreed that for one year, from February 15, 1870 through February 14, 1871, the player would receive $125 per month, for a total of $1500.”

xxxv

Chicago Tribune, February 18, 1870

xxxvi

Chicago Tribune, May 27, 1870

xxxvii

Federal Writers’ Project, Baseball in Old Chicago . (Illinois: Works Project Administration, 1939)

xxxviii

Cleveland Herald, May 2, 1870. Jimmy Wood was entrusted with the selection of the team’s uniform design and colors.

xxxix

Chicago Tribune, August 11, 1870

xl

Daniel E. Ginsburg, The Fix Is In: A History of Baseball Gambling and Game-Fixing Scandals . (Jefferson, North Carolina and London: McFarland & Company, Inc., 1995) Craver would be expelled by the National League in 1877 on related charges.

xli

Chicago Tribune, October 14, 1871

xlii

The displaced Foley ran a local semi-pro outfit in 1872 and 1873 with limited success.

xliii

Though, of course, the new White Stockings didn’t actually exist in 1872.

xliv

Chicago Tribune, July 11, 1874

xlv

Chicago Tribune, April 16, 1875

xlvi

In all fairness, of course, the White Stockings had repeatedly taken players from eastern clubs.

xlvii

Chicago Tribune, February 13, 1876. Interestingly, the baseball world didn’t seem to comprehend, when the Hall of Fame was established, the inner workings of the time. Bulkeley, the National League’s first president, who served only one year in the role, was inducted in 1937 to counterbalance the election of American League president Ban Johnson, a true giant of the game.

The Windy City-Collar City Connection: The Curious Relationship of Chicago’s and Troy (NY)’s Professional Baseball Teams (1870–1882)

By Jeff Laing

Both Chicago and Troy fielded strong baseball nines in the baseball’s post-Civil War pioneer days. With the advent of professional baseball after the 1868 season, the fortunes of Chicago and Troy became intertwined by happenstance and the loosely-knit structure and highly unstable nature of nineteenth century baseball. Both cities played a major part in the ebb and flow of the national pastime as baseball organized itself into professional leagues.

The first baseball dealings between these cities began acrimoniously. In 1870, just prior to the establishment of the first professional organization—the National Association of Professional Base Ball Players, or National Association (NA)—the White Stockings formed as a professional club. The upstart team claimed a national championship using several former members of the Unions of Lansingburgh (Troy) 1, including catcher Mart King, first sacker Bub McAtee, and right fielder Clipper Flynn. 2

Tensions continued to rise between the cities when Chicago signed notorious Trojan serial revolver and win-at-all-costs scalawag Bill Craver, 3 who was in turn enticed back to the Collar City after vague allegations of “contract violations” by the Chicago club.

It is, therefore, no surprise that the most bitterly fought game of the 1870 season occurred in Upstate New York that June 23 between the White Stockings and the Haymakers. Following a devastating loss to the Forest City team of Rockford, IL, and with the hated White Stockings’ imminent arrival in the Collar City, Troy management raised $5,000 to bolster its roster. Among other solid ball players, the Haymakers signed pitcher John McMullen and center fielder Tom York. Chicago filed a protest, stating that the newly signed players had taken the field with other NA teams within the past 60 days, a direct violation of the group’s bylaws. After much grandstanding by both teams, the game was eventually played with Chicago winning 35–21. 4

Chicago ended its season on a high note. On November 1, 1870, before 6,000 fans at Chicago’s Dexter Park, the White Stockings won the national championship in a bitter contest against the Mutual club of New York, a game which ended with a disputed technical decision. Mutuals pitcher Rynie Wolters stalked off the mound after walking the bases loaded with his team leading 13–12, claiming that the umpire was biased. After the Mutual club refused to take the field, the game reverted to the last completed inning, after which Chicago had led 7–5.

This decision gave the White Stockings the “title” amid the protests of the Mutuals, who continued to proclaim themselves champions. 5

The 1871 Haymakers, with manager/second baseman Bill Craver (front center) and slugger Lip Pike (back center).

The Craver contretemps continued into the 1871 season, with Chicago refusing to play the Haymakers if Craver was in the lineup and, further, not allowing the Troy club to play other teams at Chicago’s Union Base Ball Grounds. Moreover, the White Stockings withheld past gate receipts due the Trojan management:

The White Stockings have informed the Haymakers that they will not suffer Craver to play in any game against them, nor will they allow the Haymakers to play any other club on the Chicago grounds if Craver is one of the nine…. The Chicago Times takes ground against the White Stockings for retaining the Haymaker money, and very properly stigmatizes the act as robbery. It says that a corporation may escape punishment for doing what an individual [would suffer]. 6

The Chicago-Troy relationship improved somewhat following the October 8, 1871, Chicago Fire, which destroyed the White Stockings’ ballpark and equipment. Stranded on the road, Chicago split a pair of games at Troy on October 21 and 23; two other games were rained out. On October 30, at the Brooklyn Union Grounds, the White Stockings lost the NA’s first pennant, falling 4–1 to the Athletics of Philadelphia. On November 2, the White Stockings played a benefit game in Troy, an anticlimactic end to the season and to the year’s heated rivalry. 7

Prior to the 1872 NA season, Troy looked west to build a winner. With Chicago not fielding a professional team in 1872 or 1873, Troy rebuilt its roster with Windy City imports: Jimmy Wood, the team captain and second baseman, and George Zettlein, a hard-throwing pitcher. The pair led the Haymakers to their best-ever professional baseball record (15–10).

Though only playing in Troy for a few months, Wood and Zettlein are considered all-time Haymakers. Jimmy Wood was a batting star for the 1872 club, batting a robust .336 with a .558 slugging percentage. Having played with many Trojans on the 1870 White Stocking championship club, Wood was certainly aware of the city’s baseball heritage. This is presumably one reason he was chosen to be captain (i.e., manager) of the 1872 squad. Unfortunately, Wood was considered a poor manager due to his disorganization and foul temper. His NA managerial record was 105–99. 8

Wood, a longtime admirer and associate of fire-balling George Zettlein, had first recruited the hurler for the 1870 White Stockings. Zettlein led NA pitchers in earned run average (2.73) in 1871 while compiling an 18–8 record. In 1872, he fashioned a 2.16 ERA and 14–8 mark for the Haymakers. By 1875, however, Zettlein was mired in game-fixing controversies and Wood had accused him of not giving his best effort in the box. 9

The 1872 Haymakers played their last NA contest on July 23, winning a road game against the Middleton, CT Mansfields. Troy’s management could not meet payroll, leading the club’s players to disband. They attempted to return as a “cooperative” club for one desultory loss on July 30. Many of Troy’s players, including Wood and Zettlein, signed with the woeful Eckfords of Brooklyn for the remainder of the 1872 season. Troy played an independent schedule through 1878. 10

Chicago’s baseball fortunes looked up in 1874 when the club re-entered the NA. While the White Stockings were mediocre on the field, team Secretary William Hulbert began an ambitious campaign of signing star players; he inked Albert Spalding, Cap Anson, and Deacon White prior to the conclusion of the 1875 season in direct violation of NA regulations.

Though Hulbert correctly assessed the NA as a disorganized group with a doubtful financial future, a high tolerance of boorish behavior by fans and players, and a nod-and-wink policy of suspicious betting patterns, he also acted with extreme self-interest in 1876 when he founded the National League (NL). Hulbert was supported in this action by the moral authority of Cincinnati baseball pioneer Harry Wright and the media support of editor Lewis Meacham of the Chicago Tribune, but not by his fellow owners; in fact, Hulbert acted just before being confronted and penalized by NA ownership.

In a direct conflict of interest, Hulbert became the NL’s second President following the 1876 season, taking over from an uninterested Morgan Bulkeley while remaining Secretary of the White Stockings. The Chicago businessman further codified and institutionalized financial control of the game, offering management “geographical exclusivity” and running the league as a monopoly wherein the owners determined which clubs’ applications would be accepted. Hulbert believed that if he could hire the most talented players, he could eliminate rival leagues from luring away talent, thus lowering team payrolls and increasing ownership profits.

Hulbert was also unforgiving in dealing with management malfeasance. He believed establishing baseball’s integrity was the key to increasing fan support and gate receipts. He expelled the Philadelphia and New York City franchises for not completing their 1876 schedules. In 1877 and 1878, Hulbert ran a shaky six-team NL, barely surviving a major game-fixing scandal by Louisville in 1877. 11 The Chicago magnate eagerly anticipated making major changes to the league for 1879.

During the 1878 off-season, Troy reestablished its checkered relationship with the Windy City by applying for entry to the NL. Hulbert accepted the Trojans’ application even though the Collar City did not meet the 75,000 population requirement for new franchises. He simply persuaded the board of directors to alter a league rule to favor Troy’s application and even allowed the Haymakers to continue playing exhibition games (for money) against its geographical rival, Albany:

The entry into the National League of the [Troy] Trojans [known officially as the Troy Citys and unofficially as the Haymakers] was greeted with enthusiasm by its supporters, but it was not without controversy. Part of the Trojans’ financial success stemmed from their games with their neighbors across the Hudson River in Albany. Troy requested the inclusion of the Albany ball club into the National League, a request which was denied because scheduling problems which would result from a nine-team league. Additionally, the National League’s territorial rights rule prevented more than one team per city and no games between cities fewer than five miles apart. [Troy and Albany are separated by 4.75 miles.] This rule prevented Troy and Albany from playing exhibition games against each other. Eventually, the Trojans settled for an amendment of the territory rule, reducing the gap from five miles to four and allowing them to play exhibition games against their Capital District neighbors. 12

The 1881 and 1882 Troy Trojans had three Hall of Famers: catcher Buck Ewing (rear, right) and hurlers Tim Keefe (next to Ewing) and Mickey Welch (rear, left).

Influenced both by his continued animus to Philadelphia and New York City and his knowledge of Troy’s long and storied history with the national pastime, Hulbert shepherded the Haymakers franchise. While Troy’s tenure in the NL was marked by spotty attendance and increased financial difficulties, Hulbert defended the Trojans against attempts to replace them with a team from a larger market.

Hulbert passed away just prior to the 1882 season at a time when NL owners felt threatened by the establishment of the American Association (AA).The magnates were fed up with the weak financial status of the Trojan club and its cloudy future and eventually ousted the Haymakers on September 25, 1882, by an ownership vote of 6–2. This vote violated the NL’s own constitution, but the owners chose anyway to admit a New York City-based entry for the 1883 season. 13

Troy fought the expulsion by threatening to sue the league for $5,000 for the costs of refurbishing its new West Troy (Watervliet) Ballpark. The Haymakers also threatened to apply to enter the American Association in 1883. Placated by promises of a large number of exhibition games in Troy by NL teams and of possible reinstatement into the NL at some unspecified future date (neither of which ever came to fruition), Haymakers management never followed through on the proposed lawsuit or AA application. The Collar City had been removed from major league baseball, never to return.

The conclusion of the 1882 NL season ended the curious relationship of the Chicago and Troy professional baseball clubs and forever marked the divergence of the baseball fortunes of both cities. The Windy City became an industrial and cultural force as the railroads expanded westward and capital and industry moved to newer and larger markets closer to necessary natural resources. The Chicago of the 1880s surpassed, in importance and influence, smaller, gritty Northeastern cities such as Troy which depended on hydroelectric power and a skilled force that eventually emigrated west to follow superior economic opportunities. 15

The fortunes of Chicago’s and Troy’s nineteenth century baseball franchises reflect the growth and development of both populations. While Chicago still boasts two flourishing major league franchises, Troy has remained without a major league club for 133 years.

Endnotes

(1) Troy’s professional baseball club was originally named the “Union Base Ball Club of Lansingburgh,” though they were popularly referred to as the “Troy Haymakers” as early as 1866. When Troy entered the National Association in 1871, the club was officially called the “Haymakers” until its demise in 1872. When the Haymakers entered the National League in 1879 they became the “Troy Citys” and/or the “Troy Trojans” but were commonly referred to in the media and among supporters as the “Haymakers.”

(2) Patrick Mondout, “1870 Baseball Season,” www. Baseballchronology.com .

(3) Bill Craver was among pioneer baseball’s most notorious figures both on and off the field. He was banned for life from the NL in 1877 for his involvement and inaction in the Louisville Grays hippodroming scandal. Later that year, Craver’s tarnished reputation led to his banishment by his hometown Haymakers, who had often provided safe passage during his career. After his forced retirement from baseball, Craver became a patrolman in Troy.

Craver’s batterymate Cherokee Fisher also signed with the White Stockings, but pocketed their monies and never played a game for Chicago ( Troy Daily Whig, 13 July 1870.)

(4) Fort Wayne (IN) Daily Democrat, 28 June 1870, p. 11; David Pietrusza, “Capital Region Baseball Timeline, Part I: 1819-1899,” http://www.davidpietrusza.com/capital-reg-baseball-1.html, p. 4; Peter Morris, “Union Base Ball Club of Lansingburgh/Haymaker of Troy” http://archive.is/yuZ3 V, p. 11.

The extent to which the Haymakers were committed to improving their club for the 1870 season, no matter the cost, is reflected in the six-week signing of catcher Pat Dockney, a noted carouser and serial revolver.

(William J. Ryczek, When Johnny Came Sliding Home: The Post-Civil War Baseball Boom, 1865-1870, (Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, 1998), pp. 143-144.)

(5) “1870 Baseball Season,” Baseball Chronology.

(6) Troy Daily Whig, 8 July 1870.

(7) “1871—National Association,” Sean Lahman Baseball Archives

www.sean-lahmans-baseball-archive.com. (Accessed 12/12/2013); James L. Terry, Long Before the Dodgers: Baseball in Brooklyn 1855-1884 (Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, 2012), p. 99; John Thorn, Baseball in the Garden of Eden: The Secret History of the Early Game (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2011), p. 152; William J. Ryczek, Blackguards and Red Stockings: A History of Baseball’s National Association, 1871-1875 (Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, 1992), p. 64.

(8) Ryczek, Blackguards and Red Stockings, p. 134; “Jimmy Wood,” http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/W/Pwoodj106.htm.

(9) “Offered Him $1,000 to Throw the Game” Troy Haymakers Archive, pp. 1-4

http://baseballhistorydaily.com/tag/troy-haymakers.; “George Zettlein,” http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/z/zettlge01.shtml; “1871,” 1871—The Baseball Chronology, www.baseballlibrary.com/chronology/byyear.php?year=1871.

(10) Peter Morris, William J. Ryczek, Jan Finkel, Leonard Levin and Richard Malatzky (editors), Baseball Founders: The Clubs, Players and Cities of the Northeast That Established the Game (Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, 2013), pp. 174-175.

(11) Michael Haupert, “William Hulbert,” SABR Biography Project, pp. 1-4

http://sabr.org/bioproj/d1d420b3; William E. Eakin, “William A. Hulbert,” Robert Tiemann, ed., Nineteenth Century Stars (Phoenix, AZ: Society of American Baseball Research, Inc., 2012), pp. 135-136.

(12) Ray Kim, “When Troy Was a Major League City,” p.4 http://www.empireone.net/~musicman/troyball.html.

(13) Troy Daily Times, 23 Sept. 1882.

(14) Lancaster (PA) Daily Intelligencer ; Syracuse Morning Standard ; and New York Times, 26 Sept. 1882.

(15) Deborah Nazon, Brownfield’s Redevelopment and Competitive Advantage Theory: Urban Revitalization and Stakeholder Engagement in South Troy, NY (Ann Arbor, MI: ProQuest UMI Dissertations Publishing), 2007), pp. 45 and 49-50; George Baker Anderson, “History of Troy New York” in Landmarks of Rensselaer County (Syracuse, NY: D. Mason and Company, 1897); Steven M. Gelber, “Working at Playing: The Culture of the Workplace and the Rise of Baseball,” Journal of Social History , 16, 4 (Summer 1983), p. 16; Peter Morris, “Union Base Ball Club of Lansingburgh/Troy Haymakers,” in Peter Morris, William J. Ryczek, Jan Finkel, Leonard Levin and Richard Malatzky (editors), Base Ball Pioneers, 1850-1870: The Clubs and Players Who Spread the Sport Nationwide (Kindle edition) (Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, 2012) loc. 1962–1984.

Mike González : The First Hispanic Cub

Lou Hernández

On September 28, 1912, 22-year-old Mike González became the first Hispanic player to don the tools of ignorance in the major leagues with his debut with the Boston Braves.

Five years later, as a member of the St. Louis Cardinals, González confounded Philadelphia Phillies backstop Bill Killefer and his pitcher Joe Oeschger by stealing home in the bottom of the 15th inning to defeat Oeschger and the Phillies 5–4 at Robison Field.

Cardinals manager Miller Huggins was reported to have conferred with González afterward and said, “You stole without my signal. You’ve got plenty of guts.”

González replied: “I also got plenty big lead.”1

Two seasons later, in 1919, the New York Giants claimed González off waivers from St. Louis. He played sparingly for New York for three seasons. Then, following the 1921 campaign, González was absent from the Big Time for two years, plying his trade in the minors. The Cardinals re-obtained the nine-year major leaguer prior to the 1924 season from the Brooklyn Robins, who had purchased González from the American Association’s St. Paul Saints.

The dependable receiver was the Cardinals’ number one catcher on the season. While statistics are not complete for 1924, he is at this point “leading” the National League in games started behind the plate (114) and innings (914 2/3 ). He may not end atop the league, but his final totals will be higher.

In May 1925, the Chicago Cubs cleared the way for Gabby Hartnett to become the team’s regular catcher by shipping their everyday backstop Bob O’Farrell to the St. Louis Cardinals. In return, Chicago received promising infielder Howard Freigau and González. Freigau spent barely two seasons with the Cubs, while González played the last five productive campaigns of his major league career with Chicago.

At the time of his trade to the Cubs, González was among nearly 400 active major league players born in the 19th Century. Miguel Angel “Mike” González was born in Havana, Cuba on September 24, 1890. He was among the few Hispanic players on a major league roster in the big leagues in 1925.

González had begun the 1925 season with St. Louis as a starter until his trade to the Cubs on May 23. Following the trade, González became Hartnett’s back-up for three and one-half seasons. On May 25, the 34-year-old catcher became the first Hispanic player in Chicago Cubs history when he pinch-hit for reliever Elmer Jacobs in the seventh inning of a Cubs/Pirates game at Forbes Field. In a curious move, Cubs manager Bill Killefer asked González to sacrifice, instead of letting his pitcher do so. González did so successfully, and he did not stay in the game. The Cubs were defeated, 5–3.

In his third start for the Cubs, on June 9, the 6’1”, 200-pound González enjoyed a 3-for-5 day at the plate.

In his last at-bat, in the bottom of the ninth, he homered off the Giants’ Jack Scott with no one on base. That cut New York’s lead to 9–7, which is how the game ended. “A high wind helped Meusel, Terry and Southworth of New York and Gonzales (sic) of Chicago crack home runs,” 2 read a wire report, indicating the direction in which the wind was blowing on Chicago’s North Side that day. (González’s name was often misspelled in the press.) The breeze-aided home run by Mike was the first home run hit by a Hispanic player at 11-year-old Cubs Park.

Though such ethnic distinctions were not recognized by reporters of the era, a fine Tuesday afternoon crowd of 15,000 was present for the high-scoring encounter between the first-place Giants (31–15) and the sixth-stationed Cubs (20–28).

Two years prior to being renamed in honor of Cubs owner William Wrigley Jr., and a year before undergoing expansion that would increase its capacity to 38,396, Cubs Park at the time was a single-grandstand compound with a maximum capacity of 20,000. The left field line stretched 319 feet to the foul pole, while the chalk line measured 318 feet to right. Straightaway center field was a deep 447 feet away. 3

The Cubs finished last in 1925, but improved steadily over the next four seasons under new manager Joe McCarthy. In his fourth season at the helm, McCarthy led the Cubs to the pennant by 10½ games. The former Cubs Park hosted the first of its five World Series in the 20th Century, beginning on October 8, 1929.

What was called a “limp arm” left Gabby Hartnett unable to throw for much of the 1929 season. González and Zack Taylor shared the catching duties for the National League champions. In the World Series, Taylor, who had enjoyed a better season with the bat, started all five games against the AL champion Philadelphia Athletics.

Mike Gonzalez, shown with the Cubs circa 1925-26.

In Game One at a now double-decked Wrigley Field, González entered the contest after Taylor had been pinch-hit for in the home seventh. The Cubs’ Guy Bush relieved starter Charlie Root in the same inning. The game was 1–0 for the Athletics until Philadelphia scored two unearned runs in the ninth. González recorded two putouts in plays at the plate in the same half inning. In the bottom of the inning, the Cubs scratched across a run, avoiding the shutout.

When González’s turn to bat in the ninth came up, with the tying runs on first and second, McCarthy substituted Footsie Blair with the stick. The pinch-hitter grounded out, and the next batter, another emergency swinger, Chick Tolson, struck out, ending the game. With his two innings of defensive work, Mike González became the first Latin American position player to appear in a World Series game.

The next day, in Game Two, González pinch-hit for Cubs relief pitcher Hal Carlson in the bottom of the eighth. Philadelphia led 9–3, which was eventually the final score. González struck out swinging on three pitches, foul tipping the second offering. The 39-year-old receiver saw no further action in the remaining three Fall Classic games, as the Athletics took two of the next three contests in Philadelphia to claim the title.

On January 2, 1930, the Cubs released González. The veteran catcher latched on with Minneapolis of the American Association for the 1930 campaign. His familiar St. Louis Cardinals brought González back to the major leagues in early June of 1931. The weak-hitting backstop played sparingly for the Cardinals, who won the National League pennant and then the World Series over Connie Mack’s repeat American League champions. González was not included on the Cardinals’ World Series roster.

In 1932, González played the last 17 games of his 17-year major-league career. His role was as the team’s third-string catcher. Two seasons later, in 1934, González became the first Hispanic coach in the major leagues under Cardinals manager Frankie Frisch. “Mike Gonzalez was considered such an asset to the Cardinals that he served as a coach under four different pilots,” 4 wrote J.G. Taylor Spink a dozen years later.

González also twice served as interim manager of the Redbirds. The first time came on September 14, 1938, his first game as replacement skipper for the fired Frisch. Mike also earned the honor of becoming the first Hispanic manager in major league history.

Always looking for big league talent, González was credited as the source of an all-time classic baseball line, in describing a potential player’s ability. A newspaper report from the 1930s described the reason for his famous quip. “His club’s scouts had been sending in long telegrams about worthless prospects. Sick and tired of footing heavy telegraph tolls and getting nothing in return, the club sent Mike scouting with instructions to report as briefly as possible. Mike looked a recruit over and wired, ‘Good field. No hit.’ ” 5

Following his retirement as a big league player, the superannuated catcher played a couple of more winter league seasons with the Habana Leones before hanging up his spikes for good in 1935 at age 45. (We are staying faithful to the actual spelling, in Spanish, of the team “Habana,” while maintaining the more well-known English-spelling of the capital city. ) He played 23 seasons with Habana. González maintained his long association with the popular team as its manager, and in the early 1940s, he was part of a group of business associates that purchased the club from the former owner’s widow. Before the decade had ended, the shrewd former player had become the team’s principal owner.

In early October of 1953, the 63-year-old González stepped away from the Leones’ dugout after 33 seasons as manager. He was the winningest manager in Cuban Winter League history (851–674). 6 He continued as the league’s most recognizable and influential owner for the remainder of the decade. Among the select group of skippers González chose to succeed him at the helm were fellow Cubans Salvador “Chico” Hernández and Dolf Luque.

Luque and González were the best known Hispanic major league ballplayers of the first half of the 20th century. González had broken into the big leagues in 1912, with the Boston Braves, two years ahead of Luque, who was a standout pitcher with the Cincinnati Reds in the 1920s. Luque was the first Latin American player to participate in a World Series, taking the hill for the 1919 Reds.

The thriving Cuban Winter League was abolished in 1961 following Fidel Castro’s Marxist revolution of two years earlier. González’ signature Habana Leones franchise was taken from him by Castro’s dictatorial regime and dissolved. Like all owners of the Cuban Winter League teams, he received not a dime of compensation. The franchise was estimated to be worth some $500,000 at the time. 7

Miguel Angel González lived another 16 years, one imagines with an embittered heart. He died, on February 19, 1977, of a heart attack in Havana. He was 77.

Historic National League Ball Parks First Latin American player to homer there

Baker Bowl Mike González, July 30, 1924

Braves Field Mike González, August 28, 1925

Ebbets Field Mike González, June 4, 1918

Cubs Park/Wrigley Field Mike González, June 9, 1925

Forbes Field Luis Olmo, July 26, 1943

Polo Grounds Armando Marsans, August 1, 1912

Redland/Crosley Field Adolfo Luque, August 15, 1924

Robison Field Mike González, April 25, 1917

Sportsman’s Park Mike González, July 22, 1924

Sources

Baseball-Reference.com

Retrosheet

Notes

1 “Beisboleros.” Newsweek May 29, 1944. The game took place on June 11, 1917.

2 “Giants Capture 19 of 28 Games Without McGraw.” Alton Evening Telegraph, June 10, 1925.

3 Curt Smith. Storied Stadiums. Foreword by Bob Costas. Carroll & Graf Publishers, New York, New

York 2001.

4 J. G. Taylor Spink. “Looping the Loops.” The Sporting News, October 30, 1946.

5 “Adolfo Luque Hangs On.” The Kansas City Star, January 27, 1933.

6 Jorge S. Figueredo, Who’s Who in Cuban Baseball 1878–1961. McFarland & Co., Jefferson, N.C., 2003.

7 Roberto González Echevarría. The Pride of Havana. A History of Cuban Baseball. Oxford University

Press, New York, N.Y. 1999.

Bibliography

Figueredo, Jorge, S. Who’s Who in Cuban Baseball 1878–1961. McFarland & Co., Jefferson, N.C., 2003.

González Echevarría, Roberto. The Pride of Havana. A History of Cuban Baseball. Oxford University Press, New York, N.Y. 1999.

Bibb Falk: The Only Jockey in the Majors

Matthew M. Clifford

In the old days of professional baseball, players fist-fighting on and off the field was not uncommon. Players would scream at each other. Some would tease. Many others were just downright mean.

One player in particular earned a nickname that perfectly described his slick dugout demeanor. The handle followed him throughout his days in the major leagues and all the way to baseball cards printed after his death.

In 1978, when asked who coined his nickname, “Jockey,” Bibb Falk replied with a sharp southern drawl, “I don’t know where the hell it came from.” [i] Today, many baseball historians incorrectly dub Falk as an overaggressive player who screamed at and “rode” his opponents, as a jockey would ride a horse.

His manipulative skills were strongest during batting practice before games or when opposing players walked past Falk’s dugout perch. He had mastered a personal technique to take the mental edge off his rivals by questioning them about false rumors that had been started by other players. The tactic forced his competitors to focus their attention on Falk and his position as an innocent “middle-man” that stood between them and another player who shared a rumor with Falk. It is up to the reader to decide which method of “jockeying” is cruder.

Falk explained his moniker in a 1978 interview: “I wasn’t hollering at nobody during no game. I was just “jockeying” between somebody. It was more kidding than riding. Sometimes we’d be batting at home and the visiting team would have to come by our batting cage to get to the other side of the bench and you’d hear one of the players say, when so-and-so comes by, ask him about this, see? Something happened to him, see? And then he’d come by and get tough and say, what’s this I heard about that and they say, where in the hell you get this?” ii It is worth noting that Falk was giggling during this portion of the interview.

Bibb Augustus Falk was born in Austin, Texas on January 27, 1899. His first name led to teasing that included the phrase “bib and tuck’er,” an old-time slang expression describing someone who was dressed nicely. In fact, he was often referred to during his playing career as “Bib.” (His middle name, long believed to be simply “August,” is apparently the longer appellation, according to many contemporary documents including those at the Texas State Historical Association.)

Falk learned the game of baseball living close from Riverside Park, the home field of the Austin Senators of the Texas League. Bibb visited the field frequently and eventually earned employment at the park as the Senator’s batboy while working between innings selling bags of peanuts to fans in the bleachers.

He honed his baseball talents at the Stephen F. Austin High School. William “Billy” Disch, head baseball coach from the University of Texas, reviewed Bibb’s abilities during one of his high school performances. The coach quickly approached the high school senior and invited him to attend UT.

Falk accepted Disch’s offer, but before he could enroll at UT he had to join up with Uncle Sam. In April 1917, the United States joined the war against Germany and Bibb enlisted with the U.S. Naval Reserves.

After the war ended in 1918, Bibb returned to Austin and followed the tutelage of Coach Disch, who taught young Falk his baseball.

During his sophomore, junior, and senior years at UT, the left-handed Falk played varsity and, as a pitcher, was undefeated in all three seasons. In spring 1919, the Chicago White Sox came to Austin for spring training and played against Disch’s UT Longhorns. Falk’s flair caught the attention of White Sox management during the exhibitions. Disch communicated with the White Sox via letters during summer 1919, and Falk eventually signed his first professional baseball contract with Chicago. Falk explained the details of the transaction: “Well, it was all settled by wire and mail between the White Sox and Disch and myself. They just sent a contract down here after school that summer. I signed in the summer before I reported. In those days you could do that in college, you know. So I actually signed the contract in the summer of ‘19 and reported in June of ‘20.” iii

A nattily attired Bibb Falk.

The 1919 World Series “Black Sox Scandal” opened the door to Falk’s career in the major leagues. “I thought I’d be farmed out because they had a great team back then. They had been great until they threw the series away. They had a pretty good outfield and that was my break it was when they’d been kicked out. They had to rebuild, see. That was my break. If it hadn’t been for that, I’d been sent down.” iv

Falk initially joined the Sox in July 1920 but did not play regularly until the last few games of the season, by which the team’s involvement in the scandal around the 1919 World Series became known. (Commissioner Landis eventually banished eight players from the White Sox roster after a Chicago court acquitted them of fraud. Landis knew that the players had “thrown” the World Series with weak performances for the benefit of gamblers.)

The Black Sox trial ended in July 1921, by which time “the southpaw from the South” had already been summoned to the south side of Chicago. Falk stepped over the minors and headed directly to the majors.

“ I joined them (the White Sox) in Philadelphia on the road and I finished the road trip with them. Stayed with them. I never did play much,” [v] Bibb recalled. “I did pinch hit there once or twice after a game they’d lost. Something like that. Till the last week of the [1920] season when those [eight] fellas got kicked out [by Landis], then I played every day.” vi Bibb’s first major league appearance wearing a White Sox uniform was July 17, 1920, when he was called to pinch-hit against the New York Yankees at the Polo Grounds.

The outfield garden of Chicago’s Comiskey Park had been previously occupied for five years (1915–1920) by the legendary “Shoeless” Joe Jackson. Bibb would carry his nickname “jockey” while toting the title, “The Man That Replaced Shoeless Joe” for the rest of his life. Falk explained his feelings of Chicago’s notorious “eight men” since he shared their dugout space moments before they were dismissed.

“ I got a kick out of Buck Weaver. He used to work at the windows at the race tracks in Chicago for a while and we’d have a rainy day, we’d go out to the tracks, see. I’d see him at the window and I’d talk to him. Anything that Weaver said, Jackson would do. He (Jackson) was too dumb to be a leader, see? Jackson was a great hitter. He hit .370 in the World Series and he was trying to throw it. He was a nice quiet fellow.” vii

In 1921, Falk, just 22, began to make headlines for the White Sox. He excelled in some areas, collecting 31 doubles and 82 RBIs. Falk’s progress was impressive despite ranking fourth in the American League with 69 strikeouts.

Bibb’s bat continued to produce in 1922. His bat also got him into some trouble on June 7, however, after he threw his stick while arguing with umpire Frank Wilson’s decisions of pitched balls and strikes. When the lumber went sailing, Wilson christened Bibb with his first big league ejection. Falk ended the season hitting .298 with 27 doubles, 12 homers, and 79 RBIs.

As the World Series between the Yankees and Giants was being played, Bibb Falk and a handful of other big-league players were selected to participate in an off-season barnstorming schedule in Japan. AL President Ban Johnson and Commissioner Judge Kenesaw Landis authorized the tour, which was supervised by AL umpire George Moriarty and organized by former major leaguer and Japanese baseball coach Herbert Hunter.

Falk recalled the details of his excursion: “I got to travel a lot and it never cost me any money. There was that barnstorming trip promoted by Herbie Hunter...we had Waite Hoyt, Herb Pennock, Freddie Hoffman, Joe Bush, George Kelly, Casey Stengel, Irish Meusel. All them just had been in the World Series. Amos Strunk and myself from the White Sox, a couple Cleveland guys, Luke Sewell and Riggs Stevenson, Bert Griffith from Brooklyn, Doc Lavan from the Cardinals and their wives. We had twenty-six in the party and we sailed out of Vancouver

October the 19th and got back in Frisco February the 1st 1923. We did it all by boat, see? It took eleven days by boat to get there.” viii

After arriving in Japan, Hunter’s “All-American” team played against Japanese college teams, industrial teams and amateur teams. Falk and his teammates stopped in Seoul, Korea to play a bit more before parking in Peking, China to spend a day sightseeing.

The next stop was Shanghai and a week-long visit to the Philippines where the All-Stars played an Asian military team. While Falk was enjoying the Orient, baseball rumors around the stovepipe mentioned the possibility of a trade to the Yankees, who wanted a replacement for floundering outfielder Lawton “Whitey” Witt. The papers kept the gossip flames hot until March 1923, but Chicago fanatics were relieved that Falk would continue working for the White Sox. In late April, a sports rag predicted a bright future for the Comiskey asset: “Falk is a dangerous batsman and has the ability to become a star if he makes the most of his possibilities.” ix

Boss Charles Comiskey and his secretary Harry Grabiner tightened their grip on Falk and opened their checkbook a bit wider for the Texan, increasing his yearly salary from $3,600 to $4,800 for 1923. Unfortunately, Falk was not fully healthy. He missed action from August 25 through the end of September due to trench mouth (i.e. gingivitis—swelling of the gums). White Sox manager Kid Gleason also sat Falk on occasion. So Bibb’s usual impressive RBI total dropped by half and his doubles by a third. His monumental moment in 1923 came on June 8 as the White Sox challenged the New York Yankees at their home field. That day, Falk hit the longest single of his career. The hit travelled 420 feet and has been mooted as the seventh longest single in major league history. [x]

Following the ‘23 season, the 56-year-old Gleason retired. Comiskey quickly appointed Frank Chance, a former Cubs great who heretofore had managed the Boston Red Sox, to change the color of his hose and run his Chicago club. Chance accepted Comiskey’s offer and hired longtime Chicago Cubs companion Johnny Evers as a coach. When spring training began, Frank was not there due to illness. Rumors of Chance battling sinus infections, gall stones, and bronchitis covered the newspapers in spring ‘24.

Unable to attend to his new team, Frank Chance was replaced first by Johnny Evers then by Eddie Collins. Chance resigned and died on September 15 of an undisclosed illness. Days after his passing, the papers mentioned Chance’s prediction for Bibb Falk: “Keep that young fellow in the game regularly and it will not be long before you will find him batting rings around all the rest of them.” xi

Chance’s forecast had been confirmed by the end of the 1924 season. Bibb collected 185 hits, including 37 doubles, and 99 RBIs. The Texan’s .352 mark ranked third in the American League. Falk fell short only to Cleveland’s Charlie Jamieson (.359) and the Yankees’ Babe Ruth (.378). The White Sox sank into last place that season, however, regardless of Bibb’s impressive performance.

In February 1925, Bibb’s younger brother, Chester “Chet” Falk, signed on to pitch for the St. Louis Browns. Following in his big brother’s footsteps, Chet worked under the management of “Uncle Billy” Disch at the University of Texas before the Missouri scouts came calling.

Bibb’s lumber made big crashes during the 1925 season under new manager Eddie Collins. Comiskey raised Falk’s $4,800 salary to $7,500 since the outfielder’s bat brought extra spins to the White Sox turnstiles. So, with a heavy bat and heavier pockets, Falk appeared in more games than any other player on the roster. As he had in 1924, he drove in 99 runs.

One of his Chicago teammates, Ted Lyons, remembered Falk’s power in a 1977 interview: “Falk hit line drives and usually right through the middle of the diamond. One year he hit five pitchers with line drives. He hit one between the eyes, one under the heart, one in the stomach, one on the shin and one on the chin, breaking the chap’s jaw.” xii

Lyons was recalling an incident that occurred at Comiskey Park on May 29, 1925, when the White Sox welcomed a visit from Ty Cobb and his ferocious Detroit Tigers. Falk stepped to the plate to face Detroit right-hander Sylvester “Syl” Johnson. Bibb slammed a pitch directly at Syl’s head, smashing several bones in the pitcher’s face and causing a broken jaw that required a lengthy stay at Chicago’s Mercy Hospital. The Falk-induced injury branded Johnson a jinx, forcing the pitcher off the Detroit bench and eventually off American League scorecards. But exactly one decade later, on May 29, 1935, Syl, now pitching for the Philadelphia Phillies, became the last pitcher to strike out the illustrious Sultan of Swat, George Herman “Babe” Ruth, in a major league game.

Bibb put in a hard season’s work in 1926 as he appeared in every White Sox game on the schedule. Eddie Collins remained at the helm and witnessed Bibb’s thunderous swings that produced 108 RBIs, 43 doubles, and a .345 batting average, seventh best in the AL. He also led the league in fielding average among outfielders at .992. Falk’s performance led the AL to place him 12th place in the League Award voting.

At the end of the season, he recapped his feats to Grabiner and requested a bonus. The secretary advised Falk to compose a letter to Comiskey with details of his request. A few days later, Falk opened a letter that held only disappointment. The irritated Texan clearly remembered the details decades later as he explained the Comiskey letter during a 1978 interview. “I got a letter back signed Comiskey but that Grabiner—he could imitate Commy’s signature and I’m pretty sure as far as this statement I’m going to give you, I figure he signed it. It said, “In all my years in baseball I never heard of a player refunding any of his money when he had a bad year so why should I give you extra money for having a good year?” xiii

Comiskey’s notoriously tight purse strings affected Falk and caused a rift that worsened in 1927. That year, the White Sox organization replaced Eddie Collins with the club’s reliable catcher, Ray Schalk. Falk, dissatisfied with his pay rate despite a 33% raise, turned in numbers poorer than some of his earlier performances.

Falk shown in 1926.

In 1928, skipper Schalk was replaced by Russell (aka “Lena,” or “Slats”) Blackburne. Falk started the season with vigor until another case of gingivitis forced him out in late June. Altogether he batted .290 in 98 games with only 18 doubles and 37 RBIs.

Following the campaign, Comiskey attempted to cut $2,500 from Falk’s yearly income before dealing him to the Cleveland Indians in exchange for backstop Martin “Chick” Autry.

“They (Chicago) wired me and told me I’d been traded to Cleveland,” Falk explained. “Grabiner sent it...signed Comiskey. Cleveland sent me a contract without the cut so I saved $2,500 there.” xiv

When he arrived to play in Ohio, Falk was pleased to work with his old White Sox teammate and friend, Roger Peckinpaugh, the manager of the Indians. “Peck” put Falk to work at Cleveland’s League Park for the next three years. Falk collected 157 RBIs for the Indians from 1929–1931, but in the last two years was only a part-time player.

Peck, perhaps through Indians GM Billy Evans, extended an invitation for Falk to become a manager for Toledo in 1932. The Mud Hens, Cleveland’s top minor league club, needed a pilot.

Falk accepted the offer to become a playing manager for the Mud Hens, but his time with the club was bleak; the Great Depression heavily affected the Toledo turnstiles. “I played the outfield and managed there in Toledo and they gave it up because they’re in depression. See, we finished third [sic: actually fourth] and lost a lot of money over there. We wasn’t drawing. Toledo was broke. All the banks were closed.”

In 1933, Peck called Falk back to Cleveland to work as a coach. Peckinpaugh, however, was let go in June after the Indians slipped from first place to fifth. Cleveland owner Alva Bradley appointed Walter “The Big Train” Johnson to replace Peck. Bibb, as interim manager, learned that Johnson was bringing his own coach to Cleveland.

Later that summer, Bibb contacted his Chicago comrade, Eddie Collins. Eddie had been hired as Vice President of the Boston Red Sox and had a position ready for Falk. Collins had him scout for the rest of the season then assume the role of a major league coach for 1934.

After one season coaching in Boston, Falk returned to his hometown of Austin, Texas.

He worked five years (1935–1940) as a scout for the Red Sox while enjoying the off-season at his home address.

Falk bid a permanent farewell to the majors in 1940 after his long-time friend and mentor, Billy Disch, became ill in 1939 and requested Bibb’s assistance. Disch had never left his post as UT’s head baseball coach. In 1940, Falk and Disch worked together at Texas. Disch worked as an assistant to Bibb, who assumed the role of head baseball coach.

After successfully piloting the Longhorns baseball team for three years, Falk stepped away from the field and rendered his services to the U.S. Air Force during World War II. Bibb earned the rank of sergeant shortly after his enlistment at the Randolph Air Force Base in Texas. In 1944, Falk worked on the base as coach for the Randolph Ramblers baseball team. The Ramblers were one of the many teams recognized in the Military Service League.

Two of Bibb’s players, pitcher Dave “Boo” Ferriss and catcher Tex Aulds, eventually became property of the Red Sox, Ferriss before his recruitment with the U.S. Air Force and Aulds later.

After serving Uncle Sam from 1943 to 1945, Falk returned to UT’s Clark Field to coach the Longhorns. Those who played for Coach Falk say unanimously that he was a big leaguer all the way. He often admonished his men, “You might not be big leaguers, but you can sure act like you are.” A world-class cusser, his most contemptuous epithet was “bush league,” and he would not tolerate anyone wearing a Texas uniform acting like a “busher.” He treated his players like professionals and he expected them to act like they were big leaguers on the field.” xv

Falk’s players described him with adjectives like “a crusty wildcat with a fiery tongue” or as “an ornery, intimidating man.” One player explained that his Texan coach could curse consecutively for one hour without ever repeating himself. Bibb’s tough and gritty exterior transformed undisciplined college athletes into baseball machines as each of his pupils discovered their strongest abilities on the field. During his 27 years at the helm of the Texas Longhorns, Falk and his men won 470 games, 20 victories in the NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association) Southwestern Conference, and two College World Series Championships (1949 and 1950).

In 1953, Bibb and his Longhorns bid a final farewell to their coach and mentor, “Uncle” Billy Disch, who passed away, leaving a legacy of baseball memories and dedication to Austin’s UT.

In 1962, Bibb was elected to the Longhorn Men's Hall of Honor and the Helms Athletic Foundation College Hall of Fame in 1966.

Awards continued to follow Falk after he left UT. In 1968 the ABCA (American Baseball Coaches Association) added him to their Hall of Fame. Twenty years later Bibb was inducted to the Texas Baseball Hall of Fame. In early 1975, the University of Texas completed construction of the $2.5 million Disch-Falk Field, honoring the two men who served Longhorns baseball for a combined 54 years.

Falk, who never married, spent his retirement years living in Austin with his younger sister, Elsie, until her death in 1980. Still tough as nails, Bibb remained healthy until 1988 when he began having heart difficulties. On June 8, 1989, Bibb Augustus Falk passed away at Brackenridge Hospital in Austin at age 90. He was the last surviving member of the 1920 Chicago White Sox.

Years after his death, Falk was elected to the 2007 College Baseball Hall of Fame.

In 2001, historian and author Bill James wrote an interesting synopsis of Falk: “He was an unusual man. A lifelong bachelor, he was devoted to baseball and devoted to his players. He was stubborn, yet good-natured. He would leave perfectly good bats and balls in the trash so that neighborhood kids could have good equipment to play with, but he wouldn’t be caught giving them anything. Retiring at 65 [sic: 68], he lived in Austin another 24 [sic: 22] years before he died, and during that time he hardly ever missed a Texas home baseball game.” xvi

Today, White Sox fans can view a slice of history on a wall near the concession stand corridors at U.S. Cellular Field in Chicago. A life-size black and white photograph of

Bibb Falk and his heavy bat occupy a section of the wall, along with a listing of his achievements working for Charles Comiskey.

Newspapers and wire services:

The Sporting News (1920–1989)

The Associated Press (1920–1989)

The United Press (1920–1989)

Additional assistance:

Jason Culver (Research assistance)

Graves-Hume Public Library, Mendota, Illinois

Somonauk Public Library, Somonauk, Illinois

Baseball-Reference.com

Retrosheet.org

The National Baseball Hall of Fame Museum

i Dr. Eugene Converse Murdock Audio Interviews. Recorded 1978 in Austin, TX. Mears-Murdock Exhibit. Cleveland Public Library, Cleveland, OH.

ii Dr. Eugene Converse Murdock Audio Interviews. Recorded 1978 in Austin, TX. Mears-Murdock Exhibit. Cleveland Public Library, Cleveland, OH.

iii Dr. Eugene Converse Murdock Audio Interviews. Recorded 1978 in Austin, TX. Mears-Murdock Exhibit. Cleveland Public Library, Cleveland, OH.

iv Ibid.

v Ibid.

vi Ibid.

vii Dr. Eugene Converse Murdock Audio Interviews. Recorded 1978 in Austin, TX. Mears-Murdock Exhibit. Cleveland Public Library, Cleveland, OH.

viii Ibid.

ix “Infield Rates High,” The Syracuse NY Journal, April 6, 1930, p. 30.

x Bill Jenkinson, Baseball’s Ultimate Power: Ranking the All-Time Greatest Distance Home Run (Guilford, Connecticut: Globe Pequot Press, 2010), p. 285.

xi "Bibb Falk Fulfills Prediction Made By Frank Chance," The Daily Sentinel of Rome NY, September 20, 1924, p. 8.

xii Dr. Eugene Converse Murdock, Baseball Players and Their Times: Oral Histories of the Game, 1920-1940 (Westport, Connecticut: Meckler Publishing, 1991), p. 235

xiii Dr. Eugene Converse Murdock Audio Interviews. Recorded 1978 in Austin, TX. Mears-Murdock Exhibit. Cleveland Public Library, Cleveland, OH.

xiv Dr. Eugene Converse Murdock Audio Interviews. Recorded 1978 in Austin, TX. Mears-Murdock Exhibit. Cleveland Public Library, Cleveland, OH.

xv Jim Raup, Bibb Falk: A Texas Original. Elysian Fields Quarterly Baseball Review Volume 20, Issue #3 (St. Paul, Minnesota, Knothole Press, 2003).

xvi Bill James, The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract. (New York, New York, Free Press: Simon & Schuster 2001), p. 711.

Ted Lyons: 300 Wins—Closer with a Closer?

Herm Krabbenhoft

When he finally hung up his spikes, after hurling his last pitch on May 19, 1946, Ted Lyons had accumulated 260 mound victories, a total which at the time ranked fifth all-time in the American League for most career wins, behind only Walter Johnson (417), Eddie Plank (305), Lefty Grove (300), and Red Ruffing (267). 1 Fittingly, each of these five players has been honored with a bronze plaque at the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Lyons, unlike the others, spent his entire career (1923-42, 1946) with a second-division club, the Chicago White Sox.

Warren Corbett’s excellent article on Lyons, written for SABR’s Bio Project, provides a comprehensive macroscopic account of his diamond accomplishments. Lyons “completed more games than any other contemporary starter.” 2 Indeed, a check of the relevant “player profile” pages on Retrosheet.org shows that Lyons completed 356 out of 484 career starts, a remarkable completion percentage of 74%, a value higher than those of Cooperstown contemporaries Ruffing (62%) and Grove (65%).

Lyons’ relatively high percentage of complete games leads to interesting interpretation. He compiled a 15-20 won-lost record in 110 games as a relief pitcher, therefore giving him 455 decisions (245 wins and 210 losses) in the 484 contests he started. If one assumes, for the sake of argument, that each of Lyons’ 245 game-starting wins was a complete game, then the remaining (approximately) 111 complete games were game-starting losses.

Leaping out at us is the question, “How many of these (approximately) 111 complete-game losses were the result of the opposition overtaking a White Sox lead in the ninth (or extra) inning?” And, to follow up, “How many of these (approximately) 111 complete-game losses could have been prevented, saved as (incomplete-game) victories, by a successful closer?” To address these provocative questions one needs to take a microscopic look at Lyons’ complete-game losses.

INTRODUCTION

The first order of business is to learn the precise distribution of wins, losses, and no-decisions in Lyons’ 356 complete games. By examining Lyons’ game-by-game pitching log for each of his 21 Big League seasons – as presented in his “player daily” file on the Retrosheet.org website – I determined that Lyons amassed 236 complete-game victories, was shackled with 119 complete-game defeats, and pitched one complete-game no-decision (tie). So, the salient questions become:

1. How many of Lyons’ 119 complete-game losses were the result of the opposition wiping out a White Sox lead in the ninth (or extra) inning?

2. How many of Lyons’ 119 complete-game losses might have been prevented and saved as (incomplete-game) victories by a successful closer?

A key related question concerns the 236 complete-game triumphs Lyons achieved:

1. How many of Lyons’ 236 complete-game wins had a margin-of-victory of three runs or fewer, thereby qualifying for the save rule if a relief pitcher had been brought in successfully?

Next, the rules for crediting a starting pitcher with a Self-Save (SSV) or charging him with a Blown Self-Save (BSSV) need to be formulated. According to the Official Scoring Rules of Major League Baseball, only relief pitchers can be awarded a Save (SV); see Appendix 1. The Blown Save (BSV) is currently not officially recorded, although some newspaper box scores do include their mention and they are also provided in some compilations of a pitcher’s statistics (e.g., Baseball-Reference.com). Here are the definitions for the SSV and the BSSV used in this article, focused specifically on games in which Ted Lyons was the starting pitcher:

If Chicago was leading by no more than three runs going into:

1. The top half of the ninth inning when Chicago was the home team, or

2. The bottom half of the ninth inning when Chicago was the visiting team, or

3. The bottom half on an extra inning when Chicago was the visiting team, and

1. If Lyons retired the opposition without allowing the game-tying run, he received credit for a SSV;

2. If, however, Lyons did permit the tying run to score, he was charged with a BSSV.

NOTE: It is possible for Lyons to have both a BSSV and an SSV in the same game or even more than one BSSV in a game, i.e., in the bottom of the ninth and in the bottom of an extra inning.

RESEARCH PROCEDURE

To answer the above questions I scrutinized the line scores, as presented in the box scores on Retrosheet.org, for each of Lyons’ 484 career starts. I thereby identified those games where Lyons had a Self-Save (SSV) and/or a Blown Self-Save (BSSV). The pertinent results are presented in the Appendices, which are available on the SABR.org website.

RESULTS

Table 1 presents year-by-year summaries of the outcomes (wins, losses, no-decisions) achieved by Ted Lyons in the games he started. In addition, Table 1 also provides the SSV and BSSV numbers and the derived Self-Save Percentage (SSV%), defined as the number of games in which Lyons earned an SSV divided by the sum of his SSV games and BSSV games, multiplied by 100 percent – SSV% = [ SSV / ( SSV + BSSV ) ] x 100%.

NOTE: The column headings are: GS (Games Started); CGW (Complete-Game Win); ICGW (Incomplete-Game Win); CGL (Complete-Game Loss); ICGL (Incomplete-Game Loss); CGND (Complete-Game No-Decision); ICGND (Incomplete-Game No-Decision).

Examination of Table 1 reveals 112 SSV games and 20 BSSV games for Ted Lyons. Appendix 2 presents half-inning scores for each of the 20 BSSV games. NOTE: There were two games in which Lyons had both a ninth-inning BSSV and an extra-inning SSV: May 16, 1932, and August 1, 1937 (first game). Thus, Lyons actually had 130 SSV-opportunity games (not 132 SSV-opportunity games). Including both the BSSV and SSV results in the calculation of SSV% affords the TOTAL 84.8 SSV%. If one excludes the transitional BSSV result from each of these two games, the TOTAL Self-Save Percentage is 86.2%.

Lyons in 1926, when he was 18–16.

DISCUSSION

As shown in Appendix 2, thanks to timely comeback rallies engineered by his teammates, Lyons emerged as the winning pitcher in six of the 20 games in which he blew a self-save opportunity, including the previously mentioned games on May 16, 1932, and August 1, 1937 (first game). Two other BSSV games were no-decision games for Lyons (although the White Sox won both). Thus, Lyons was the losing pitcher in 12 of the 20 BSSV games. If the current practice of utilizing a closer to try to secure a victory had been operative during Lyons’ time in the Big Show, each of those losses could have been completely avoided. How many of those dozen losing games would have been converted into (incomplete-game) victories by a successful closer?

To address this question one needs to select the success rate (SV%) of the hypothetical closer for Lyons. First, let’s consider the success rates achieved by the pitchers classified as closers during the 2014 season. 3 As shown in Appendix 3, Greg Holland achieved the highest SV% in the American League (95.8), followed by Fernando Rodney (94.0) and Zach Britton (90.2). In the Senior Circuit, the top three closers were Huston Street (96.0), Ardolis Chapman (94.7), and Craig Kimbrel (92.2). Had a 96 SV% closer (like Holland or Street) gone in for Lyons in each of his 130 SSV-opportunity games, Ted might have picked up as many as 125 victories, with five games becoming no-decisions for Lyons (because the closer blew the save).

Next, let’s consider the success rates achieved by the all-time career leaders in most saves (i.e., those with at least 300 lifetime saves). As shown in Appendix 4, the SV% range for these 26 closers is 73.5% (Goose Gossage) to 89.3% (Joe Nathan). Therefore, had an 89 SV% closer (like Nathan, Mariano Rivera, or Trevor Hoffman) replaced Lyons on the mound in each of his 130 SSV-opportunity games, Ted might have ended up with 116 wins, the same number he achieved himself. The median SV% for these relievers is 83.1% (i.e., the midpoint between Jason Isringhausen’s 82.4% and Jose Mesa’s 83.8%). Therefore, if an 83 SV% closer had relieved Ted Lyons in each of his 130 SSV-opportunity games, Ted might have emerged with 108 wins—eight fewer victories than he earned by himself! Table 2 summarizes these hypothetical-closer results.

Clearly, as quantified by his 86.2 SSV%, Ted Lyons did an excellent job self-saving his games with leads of three runs or fewer in the ninth (or extra) inning. Even the very best all-time closers would not have been able to bring Lyons’ lifetime wins closer to 300.

What about Lyons’ games with leads of three runs or fewer in the eighth or seventh innings—i.e., the “Hold” innings? Present-day mound strategy is to have the starting pitcher toss the first six innings (at least), hopefully surrendering three or fewer (earned) runs (thereby achieving a “quality start”) before turning the game over to the bullpen so the set-up men can hold the game during the seventh and eighth innings for the closer in the ninth.

As described in the 2015 edition of The Bill James Handbook, the Save/Hold Percentage (S/HLD%) is a much more realistic evaluation of a pitcher’s success in save situations. 4 A “Hold” is defined as follows: “A relief pitcher is given a Hold anytime he enters the game in a Save situation, records one or more outs, and exits the game without giving up the lead.” Appendix 5 lists those games where Lyons had an advantage of three runs (or fewer) when he commenced pitching in the seventh and/or eighth inning. Table 3 summarizes the detailed information presented in Appendix 5.

NOTE: The SSV % values for 1932 (66.7) and 1937 (87.5) are bracketed by asterisks to indicate that the transitional BSSVs in the games on May 16, 1932, and August 1, 1937 (first game) were not included in the calculation of SSV %; likewise for the corresponding SSV/HLD % values; similarly for the Total values.

Inspection of Table 3 reveals that Ted Lyons was confronted with 135 seventh-inning self-hold opportunities and was successful in 115 of them, a success rate of 85.19%. Similarly, Lyons was challenged with 128 eighth-inning self-hold opportunities and he prevailed in keeping the White Sox in the lead 109 times, a success rate of 85.16%. (And, as previously described, Lyons had a self-save success rate of 86.2%.) Combining the stats for Lyons’ self-hold and self-save situations results in an 85.5 SSV/HLD%. How does Lyons’ self-save/hold performance stack up with the performances achieved by bullpens of the ML teams in the 2014 season?

Appendix 6 provides the pertinent information for pitchers who were classified as set-up men during the 2014 season; also presented are the top-ten S/HLD% leaders for each league. As can be seen, the principal set-up men for each AL team achieved a composite Save/Hold success rate of 85%; overall, the AL pitchers assembled an 86 SV/HLD%. For the National League, the corresponding numbers were 87% and 87%. Thus, Ted Lyons’ 85.5 SSV/HLD% is right in the ballpark with these values.

Compared to the top-ten leaders within each circuit, however, Lyons’ SSV/HLD percentage is about ten percentage points lower. What might Lyons have achieved, if, throughout his entire career, he could have been supported by a relief corps similar to that utilized by the 2014 Kansas City Royals bullpen, which fashioned a composite 89.5 SV/HLD% with its top set-up men Wade Davis (92.3%) and Kelvin Herrera (95.2%) and closer Greg Holland (95.8%)? A 90 SV/HLD% bullpen would theoretically convert 187 save-opportunity games into 168 victories—i.e., 14 more wins than the 154 Lyons actually earned in the 187 games he had with Self-Save/Hold opportunities. These additional 14 victories saved by a hypothetical bullpen would give Lyons 274 career wins, which is closer to the cherished 300 winner’s circle but probably not close enough to shout about. In addition, no team has ever had such an effective bullpen year in and year out for a 20-year span, and such a bullpen would only hold the lead 84% of the time anyway.

Lyons shown in the early 1940s.

CONCLUDING REMARKS

First, let’s answer the questions posed in the Introduction.

1. Eleven of Lyons’ 119 complete-game losses were the result of the opposition wiping out a Chicago lead in the ninth inning. (One of Lyons’ losses in his twelve BSSV defeats was an incomplete-game loss.)

2. As per charts 1–20 in appendix 5, 24 of Lyons’ 119 complete-game losses (and four of his incomplete-game losses) might have been prevented and saved as (incomplete-game) victories by successful holders and closers.

3. Lyons self-saved 112 of his 236 complete-game victories.

With regard to the sub-title query, if Ted Lyons could have been supported by a superlative bullpen in each year throughout his 21-year career, he might have picked up an additional 14 wins or so (an average of fewer than one more win per season) and thereby gotten a little closer to the 300 lifetime wins milestone. Most significantly, however, my comprehensive and in-depth investigation of Ted Lyons’ mound performance shows that he achieved enviable Self-Save results: an 85.5 Self-Save/Hold percentage in securing 154 victories in the 187 games he was confronted with a save situation in the seventh inning or later. Focusing on the critical challenges embodied in last-inning save-situations, Lyons achieved an 86.2 Self-Save Percentage and an 85.5 Self-Save/Self-Hold Percentage, each value being greater than the Save Percentages earned by every relief hurler currently in the Hall of Fame: Dennis Eckersley (84.6), Hoyt Wilhelm (76.9), Rollie Fingers (75.8), Bruce Sutter (74.8), and Goose Gossage (73.5).

The bottom-line take-away from my microscopic examination of the pitching record of Ted Lyons is that he clearly was a Hall of Fame Self-Closer .

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

With grateful appreciation I heartily thank Tom Ruane (Retrosheet’s Box Score Project Manager) and his fellow Retrosheet volunteers for generating the invaluable Retrosheet Box Score File and derived Player Daily Files.

REFERENCES and NOTES

[1] Ruffing subsequently added three more victories after May 19, 1946, and three more wins in 1947 to finish his career with 273 lifetime triumphs.

[2] Warren Corbett, “Ted Lyons,” SABR BioProject, sabr.org website.

[3] The Bill James Handbook 2015, Baseball Info Solutions and Bill James, ACTA Sports, Chicago (2014), 28, 29, 355–365.

[4] The Bill James Handbook 2015, Baseball Info Solutions and Bill James, ACTA Sports, Chicago (2014), 562, 568.

Mel Almada: The First Hispanic to Homer at Several Historic American League Stadia

Lou Hernández

The Almada family of Sinaloa, Mexico sought refuge from the civil unrest of the Mexican Revolution, emigrating to the United States in 1914. The Southern California city of Los Angeles offered Baldomero Almada a safe place for his family and a ranking position in the Mexican consulate.

“My father always wanted us children to have an American education,” said Mel Almada, Baldomero’s younger son, early in his baseball career. “So when the opportunity came along for him to become Mexican consul at Los Angeles, he turned over most of his property to relatives and moved us all to this country. I was then only a year and one-half-old, so, you see, I am very much an American.”1

Prior to moving to the U.S., the Almadas had relocated to Sinaloa’s bordering northern state of Sonora.2 There, in Huatabampo, Almada’s second son, Baldomero Melo, was born on February 7, 1913, the second and last male addition to a family unit that also included six girls.

A short time later, Almada, Sr. was offered a chance at the governorship of Baja California, which he turned down. Rather than challenge the sitting governor of the region for the seat (which the incumbent governor did not want to relinquish), Almada chose to avoid a political power struggle and instead redirected his family to Los Angeles.

In a profile appearing in The Sporting News in 1935, Melo “Mel” Almada’s first full major league season, the outfielder revealed the subplot: “My father sort of looked into the situation because it would have been a high distinction to become governor of that state. But it didn’t take him long to make a decision. He found out that the governor [who] the president had sought to remove had a large, well-equipped army, while my dad’s army consisted of my mother and eight children. Lord only knows what would have happened to all of us had we moved to Lower California.”3

It is safe to say the course of major league and Hispanic baseball history would have been altered had Baldomero Almada been more politically inclined.

Mel Almada was thus afforded the opportunity to run the educational gamut of the Los Angeles public school system, attending Jefferson Grammar School, John Adams Junior High, and Los Angeles High School, where Mel suited up for football, baseball, and track and field. A gifted halfback and pitcher for the Romans, he also set a school long jump record at 23 feet, 4¾ inches. He was a natural athlete, as had been his older brother, José Luis (known as Lou).

In the late 1920s, Lou Almada joined the Pacific Coast League’s Seattle Indians and became an everyday outfielder. In 1932, Lou arranged a tryout for his kid brother. At 19, Mel was such a standout that he ended up taking his brother’s starting job. Lou Almada found other employment with the San Francisco Missions, and the brothers subsequently played as friendly rivals for nearly two seasons.

Mel, who had played only semi-professional baseball before 1932, had a .311 batting average in his first season with the Indians then followed it up with 204 hits and a .323 mark in 1933. His hitting, and possibly an advanced scouting report, caught the attention of Eddie Collins, first-year Boston Red Sox general manager during a 1933 summer visit to the west coast. Collins had been hired by Tom Yawkey, the 30-year-old multimillionaire who had bought the Red Sox that February.

Collins purchased Mel Almada and two other players, with the agreement that Almada could finish the season with Seattle then join the Red Sox.

After just two seasons of professional baseball, the 20-year-old was the first Mexican-born player in the major leagues. His first day on the big league scene came at Fenway Park, September 8, 1933, against the Detroit Tigers. Wearing uniform number 21, Almada played center field in both ends of a doubleheader, recording four putouts. Mel had a hit in each game and scored his first major league run in the opener. His first major league hit came off Tommy Bridges. The Red Sox, however, dropped both games by identical 4–3 scores.

Some two weeks later, on September 23, Almada connected against the Yankees’ Herb Pennock for his first home run. As a fifth-inning substitute, Almada homered in the same inning, and scored two other runs in a 16–12 loss to the Bombers at Fenway Park. Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig also socked home runs. Almada’s long ball was the first home run hit by a Mexican player in the majors and the first by a Hispanic player at Fenway Park.

In 1934, Almada played 23 games for Boston at age 21.

Almada also visited Philadelphia and New York that September. In his only game in the City of Skyscrapers, Mel collected three hits in three official at-bats at Yankee Stadium, October 1, 1933. Pitching for the Yankees, in the season finale for both teams, was 38-year-old Babe Ruth, who surrendered 12 hits and three walks (two to Almada) in a 6–5 complete game win.

The following season, 1934, Mel starred for Boston’s Kansas City affiliate. He had a .328 batting average in 135 games and topped the circuit in stolen bases with 29. In September, the Red Sox called him up and got him into 23 more games.

The following spring, at age 22, Almada became Boston’s regular center fielder. Speed was Almada’s greatest asset, and he used it in the field and on the bases. “Almada is as fast as the desert wind that blows across his native Sonora,” read one examining report on the Red Sox rookie. “His arm is geared for long range throwing and he gets the ball away quickly…Almada, a left-handed batsman and thrower, is not a distance hitter, but [manager Joe] Cronin believes his defensive skills will more than make up for his lack of power.” 4

In his first year as a starter, Almada batted .290 in 607 at-bats and stole 20 bases (third best in the league). He spent most of his time in center but also played four games at first base. At the plate, he choked up on the bat, a common hitter’s practice in those days. He struck out only 34 times in 1935. As a major leaguer, Almada struck out only once every 16.5 at-bats, a terrific ratio.

In 1936, the 6 foot, 170-pound outfielder slumped at bat, falling to a .253 batting average, and played in fewer than 100 games . Boston was forced to move first baseman slugger Jimmie Foxx into the outfield for a time in an attempt to rev up their offense. Almada’s on-base and slugging averages dipped to .305 and .338, respectively, compared to the .350 OB and .379 SLG averages of a year earlier.

Late in spring training 1937, Almada was beaned by Cincinnati Reds pitcher Whitey Moore. “Mel Almada, youthful Red Sox outfielder, suffered a concussion today when hit on the head by a pitched ball in an exhibition game with the Cincinnati Reds. The ball struck just behind Almada’s right ear with a crack that could be heard all over the ball park.” 5 Mel was not seriously hurt, although he was kept two days in a local hospital.

He was ready for Opening Day a week later. He filled in at first base for the first four games of the 1937 season, while Jimmie Foxx recuperated from sinus troubles. Upon Foxx’s return, Almada remained in the lineup and was off to a good start, with a .351 batting average in his first nine games, when the Red Sox paid their first visit of the year to Chicago. The White Sox hosted the Red Sox for a two-game set beginning Friday, May 7.

The White Sox’ home was in its 28th year. A double-decked grandstand enclosed nearly the entire playing field of the grand structure at this time. Seating capacity was 52,000.6 The foul line distances were 362 feet in both left and right. Dead center was a cavernous 450 feet from home plate. 7

Boston, with an early-season 6–3 record, jockeyed with the Detroit Tigers and New York Yankees for the top spot in the AL standings. The home team brought up the rear of the eight-team circuit at just 3–8. The Red Sox won the opener, 5–3, behind Lefty Grove.

The next day, White Sox manager Jimmy Dykes selected right-hander Bill Dietrich to counter the Red Sox’ Wes Ferrell on the mound. Ferrell, a renowned hitting pitcher, singled his first time up in the third inning, with one out. Leadoff hitter Almada followed with a home run. The two-run blast was the first scoring of the game and the first home run hit by a Hispanic player at Charlie Comiskey’s “Baseball Palace of the World.”

Dietrich had the last laugh on Almada and the Red Sox, however, pitching five innings to earn a 6–5 victory.

A month later, on June 11, the Red Sox dealt Almada to the Washington Nationals. The change of scenery brought handsome returns for the Mexican outfielder. His batting average in the .230s when he was traded, Almada stepped up with the Nationals and had a .309 batting average in 100 games. Almada credited Nationals manager Bucky Harris with helping him improve his hitting. “ Bucky told me I was a natural-born hitter,” said the outfielder. “And that I could go to town if I used a heavier bat—thirty-five ounce instead of thirty-three—and change my stance and wait for the good ones.” 8

A year after that, June 15, 1938, Washington exchanged the Almada for St. Louis Browns outfielder Sam West. With the Browns in 1938, Almada put together a 29-game hitting streak, as well as a most remarkable string of hitting in 54 of 56 games, from June 21 to August 19. The 29-game hitting streak was the third longest by a Hispanic major league player in the 20th century; Rico Carty hit in 31 consecutive in 1970 and Benito Santiago hit in 34 straight in 1987.

Almada concluded his seven-year big league career with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1939 at only 26 years of age. In all, he hit .284 and socked 15 home runs, five of which were the first home runs hit in those stadia by a Latin American big leaguer. He played the 1940 season for Triple-A Sacramento and managed for part of the 1941 season in the Mexican League.

He served in the U.S. Army in 1944 and 1945, and in the next decade managed in the Mexican League and Mexican Pacific Coast League.

Why did the promising Almada’s career end so soon? He had trouble following up on his early successes at the plate. Some attributed this to being shy of inside pitches; certainly he did not have the power to succeed as an everyday outfielder on a contending team. As a speed and on-base threat, he was simply in the wrong era for his style of play.

Whatever the cause of his early exit, Almada soon went into the fruit distribution business with his brother Lou and enjoyed financial success. Baldomero Melo Almada lived a good life, passing away at the age of 75 on August 13, 1988, from a heart ailment in the rural town of Caborca, in his native Sonora.

In 1971, Almada was part of a third class of honorees enshrined into the Mexican Baseball Hall of Fame. Two years later, the organization held the grand opening of the Hall of Fame museum building in Monterrey, Mexico.

The guest speaker at the March 10 event was Bowie Kuhn, the 47-year-old, well-dressed, bespectacled Commissioner of Major League Baseball. He said that day, with some prescience: “I can see in the decades ahead enormous growth of baseball internationally. Today over 60 countries are participating in organized amateur and professional baseball. I can see the day when heroes of your Mexican diamonds will be heroes all over the world.

“ I can remember when, as a 10-year-old boy in Washington D.C., I went out to see my first baseball hero, Mel Almada,” Kuhn added. “It is a big thrill for me today to see my boyhood hero enshrined in your Mexican Hall of Fame.” 9

Almada’s contact stroke produced a .284 lifetime average.

Historic American League Ball Parks First Latin American player to homer there

Cleveland Stadium Bobby Estalella, October 1, 1944

Comiskey Park Mel Almada, May 8, 1937

Fenway Park Mel Almada, September 23, 1933

Griffith Stadium Jack Calvo, June 5, 1913

League Park Mel Almada, May 20, 1938

Navin Field/Tiger Stadium Mel Almada, August 21, 1935

Shibe Park Bobby Estalella, September 29, 1935

Yankee Stadium Mel Almada, June 2, 1935

Sources

Baseball Almanac

Baseball-Reference.com

Retrosheet

Notes

1 Dick Farrington. “Mexican Revolution Gave Mel Almada to the Diamond.” The Sporting News, September 5, 1935.

2 The patriarchal Almada was a descendant of affluent Spanish settlers who helped establish one of the oldest cities in Mexico. The privileged-background homesteaders designed their town with cobblestone streets and lavished upon themselves grand estate houses and erected a great fortress to serve as protection from the indigenous tribes of the region. The fortress, built in 1610, became symbolic namesake of the town, called “El Fuerte.” There, ten generations later, Baldomero Almada started his family. His eldest son, José Luis, was born in El Fuerte, Mexico on September, 7, 1907.

3 Dick Farrington. “Mexican Revolution Gave Mel Almada to the Diamond.” The Sporting News, September 5, 1935.

4 “Cronin Considers Almada Class of 1935 Rookies.” Mount Carmel Item, May 15 1935.

5 “Melo Almada Struck in Head by a Wild Pitch.” The Los Angeles Times, April 14, 1937.

6 Ballparksofbaseball.com.

7 Curt Smith. Storied Stadiums. Foreword by Bob Costas. Carroll & Graf Publishers, New York, New York 2001.

8 Cuddy, Jack. “Melo Almada Clicks Since Traded to Washington.” The Los Angeles Times, September 14, 1937.

9 Ray Gillespie, “Mexico Honors 22 Immortals at Shrine Dedication.” The Sporting News, March 24, 1973.

Andy Pafko, Darling of the 1945 Cubs

Joe Niese

From the moment Andy Pafko put on a Chicago Cubs uniform he was a fan favorite. He debuted on September 24, 1943, in a rain-shortened, five-inning 7–4 victory over the Philadelphia Phillies. In front of a crowd of 342—the smallest to ever see a game at Wrigley Field—he went 2-for-3 with a double and four RBIs.

He continued to blossom in 1944 under the guidance of Charlie Grimm, who returned to manage the club after the early-season resignation of Jimmie Wilson. In 1945, Pafko made the NL All-Star team (though the game wasn’t played) and helped the Cubs to the World Series, hitting .298 with 12 triples, 12 home runs, and 110 RBIs. He finished fourth in National League MVP balloting. [i] His play carried over into the October, and though Chicago lost in seven games to the Detroit Tigers, Pafko was arguably the star of the series.

The 1945 baseball season was the last of the World War II years. Most rosters were depleted by war, but a few, including the Cubs’, remained relatively intact. Several Chicago players held 4-F status (exemption from the war due to a variety of maladies) including Pafko, who had both a perforated ear drum and high blood pressure. Major league baseball was clearly being played at a lower caliber as a result of the war, and the drain on many teams’ top talent helped both the Cubs and Tigers win the pennant. When longtime Chicago sportswriter Warren Brown was asked who he thought would win the 1945 World Series, he responded, “I don’t think either can win it.” ii

Pafko’s best game of the series was Game One in Detroit, which he would later call “my biggest game of all-time.” iii Behind the pitching of Hank Borowy, whom the Cubs had acquired from the New York Yankees at the trade deadline, Chicago won 9–0. The Cubs chased Detroit’s Hal Newhouser, winner of back-to-back American League MVPs in 1944 and ’45, after just 2 2/3 innings. Pafko went 3-for-4 and kept the shutout intact with a perfect throw in the fifth inning to nail Tigers runner Eddie Mayo at third base. “I didn’t have a chance,” said Mayo after the game. “That throw came up to third like it was out of a cannon.” iv

Detroit’s manager Steve O’Neill was dumbfounded by Pafko’s play in center field. “He’s the best center fielder I’ve seen all season and maybe more than that.” [v]

The Tigers won Game Two, 4–1, but Pafko, who went hitless, once again shined in the field, making what the Sporting News called the “fielding masterpiece of the game,” when he “went against the screen in deepest center near the 400-foot mark.” vi

Pafko’s bat went silent after the seventh inning of Game One, as he was hitless in his next 15 at-bats. He hit just .214 in the series overall. But despite his hitting woes, Pafko had captivated many with his play. When the Cubs returned to Chicago after winning Game Three, 3–0, Pafko found the bed in his hotel room covered in letters and telegrams.

Pafko spent eight and a half years in Cubs garb.

After the Cubs dropped Game Four, 4–1, Pafko, along with his brothers Mike, John, and Ed, and Joe Fujko, the manager from his town ball days, returned to Pafko’s hotel room before attending a banquet in his honor at the Zion Lutheran Church. “Andy is very popular with Chicago fans and sportswriters,” Fujko told the Dunn County News . “The cameramen were taking pictures of him every chance they got. Autograph seekers are quite a problem with him as they crowd around him and follow him for blocks.” vii

The Cubs and Tigers split the next two games, setting up a decisive Game Seven. The Milwaukee Journal dispatched journalist Wallace MacIver to Western Wisconsin to witness Pafko’s hometown of Boyceville following baseball’s newest darling. MacIver visited a town barbershop, the Pafko family farm, and Boyceville High School, where students gathered to listen to the game on the radio in the auditorium. The piece eventually ran as a multi-page spread in the Sporting News .

The Cubs dropped the final game 9–3, but Pafko did set a World Series record for most chances by an outfielder with 26. Even though the Cubs lost the series, his name remained a topic of conversation. At the 1945 Washington Touchdown Club luncheon, Frank O’Neill, new president of the Baseball Writers’ Association of America, compared his outfield play to that of the great Tris Speaker, saying Pafko “would have been the Series hero if the Cubs had won.” viii

i Teammate Phil Cavarretta won the award.

ii Charlie Grimm and Ed Prell. Jolly Cholly’s Story: Baseball, I Love You! (Chicago, IL: Henry Regnery Company, 1968), 171.

iii Rick Phalen. Our Chicago Cubs: Inside the History and the Mystery of Baseball’s Favorite Franchise (South Bend, IN: Diamond Communications, Inc, 1992), 21.

iv “A Paving Brick Helps Cubs Win!,” Chicago Tribune, October 4, 1945.

v “Pafko is Freshman Star of World Series Opener,” Pittsburgh Press, October 4, 1945.

vi “Perfect Peg by Pafko,” Sporting News, October 11, 1945.

vii Dunn County News, October 11, 1945.

viii “Buck O’Neill Lauds Pafko,” Sporting News, October 25, 1945.

Sources

Books

Charlie Grimm and Ed Prell. Jolly Cholly’s Story: Baseball, I Love You! (Chicago, IL: Henry Regnery Company, 1968).

Rick Phalen. Our Chicago Cubs: Inside the History and the Mystery of Baseball’s Favorite Franchise (South Bend, IN: Diamond Communications, Inc, 1992).

Newspapers

Chicago Tribune (Chicago, IL)

Dunn County News (Menomenee, WI)

Pittsburgh Press (Pittsburgh, PA)

Sporting News (St. Louis, MO)

Bill Murray’s Prediction

Rob Edelman

Bill Murray, famous for his work on Saturday Night Live and his various screen roles, is also a die-hard Chicago Cubs fan raised in Wilmette, Illinois. His Cubbies may have been the first 20th century major league nine to win two consecutive World Series, but the catch is that these victories came way back in 1907 and 1908. Of course, the team has not copped a Fall Classic since.

In September 2014, Murray brought his latest film, St. Vincent, to the Toronto Film Festival. I got to briefly chat with him, and I asked him when his Cubs will win the World Series. Instead of a detailed response, which one might expect from a Cubs fan-atic, Murray—in his trademark deadpan manner—simply uttered, “In two years.”

What a Cubs fan! What a singular talent! What an optimist! And what a guy!

The Top 10 Chicago White Sox games of the 1950’s

Stephen D. Boren

The White Sox’ best and most popular player during the 1950s, Minnie Minoso was equal parts talent, smarts, and daring.

May 1, 1951: Minnie Minoso debuts for Sox and homers in first at-bat

On April 30, 1951, the Cleveland Indians, Philadelphia Athletics, and Chicago White Sox orchestrated a trade. Philadelphia sent Lou Brissie to Cleveland, which in turn shipped Sam Zoldak and Ray Murray to Philadelphia and Orestes “Minnie” Minoso to Chicago. The Athletics also sent Paul Lehner to Chicago in exchange for Gus Zernial and Dave Philley^1.

This was a gutsy trade, as Zernial was the Sox’ top slugger, and Minoso a 25-year-old black rookie joining a Chicago team yet to be integrated. Minoso, who had previously played for Cleveland, debuted for the Sox on May 1, batting third and playing third base against the New York Yankees.

In the bottom of the first, he hit a two-run homer off Vic Raschi. After Raschi fired a strike to Minoso, the young outfielder picked on the next delivery and sent it “into the left center field corner of the bullpen, a tap of something like 420 feet.” Unfortunately, Minoso made an error at third, which allowed back two runs, but singled off reliever Tom Ferrick. The Chicago fans immediately embraced him^2.

The trade for Minoso paid off quickly. He immediately became a fan favorite and this love affair continues. He was the first to put the “Go” into the “Go-Go White Sox” and changed the team forever.

May 28, 1954: Phil Cavarretta debuts for Sox as player after long Cubs career

Near the end of spring training 1954, Cubs manager Phil Cavarretta, a longtime north side icon, told owner P.K. Wrigley that his team—5–15 at the time—was not very good. Cavarretta had frankly told Wrigley that he felt the team was doomed to another second-division finish. Wrigley was furious with this perceived poor attitude and fired him^3, replacing him with Stan Hack. Phil’s position was, “I thought it my duty to give Mr. Wrigley frank views on the ball club’s ability.”4

The South Siders signed Cavarretta as a player on May 24. This move was unusual; at the time, many believed that an unwritten agreement existed between the White Sox and Chicago Cubs to not conduct transactions with each other. Signing a famous Cub such as Cavarretta was major news.

Ferris Fain started at first base for the Sox against the Baltimore Orioles in the opener of a May 28 twin bill. But in the bottom of the sixth, Phil Cavarretta entered the game at first. He made three putouts and was called out on strikes in the eighth. The White Sox won 11–6.6

Cavarretta had not envisioned playing much, and Fain was ensconced as the regular first baseman. Due to a knee injury, however, Fain did not play after June 27 and got into only 65 games. Cavarretta ended up in 71 games. He hit .316, scoring 21 runs and hitting six doubles and three homers and driving in 24 runs.7 Not only did Cavarretta play well for the Sox, he also got a share of playoff money for their third-place finish—and the Sox got to thumb their noses at the Cubs.

April 23, 1955: A record-tying 29–6 victory

The White Sox of the 1950’s were not known for heavy hitting. Sure, they had Minnie Minoso, George Kell, Gus Zernial, Eddie Robinson, Sherman Lollar, and Nellie Fox, but pitching and fielding were really their forte. On April 23, 1955, however, they did score an amazing 29 runs in one game, tying a mark set by the Boston Red Sox on June 8, 1950. Chicago collected 29 hits, just one less than the American league mark, and clubbed seven home runs, which at the time was only one less than the major-league record.8 The line score:

CHI A 4 7 3 2 0 6 3 4 0 - 29 29 1

KC A 3 0 2 0 1 0 0 0 0 - 6 6 3

The Sox began the top of the first with Chico Carrasquel singling and reaching third on an error.9 Fox flied out and Minoso reached on another error, scoring Carrasquel. Kell’s single and Bob Nieman’s home run gave the Sox a quick four-run lead. Unfortunately, in the bottom of the first, a Spook Jacobs walk, Jim Finigan’s double, and Bill Renna’s home run cut the advantage to 4–3.

Lollar led off the second with a home run, and Jack Harshman and Carrasquel singled. A ground out, an intentional walk, a force out, Nieman’s single, Walt Dropo’s single, Jim Rivera’s double, and Lollar’s single brought in seven more runs for an 11–3 edge.

In the sixth, up 16–6, the Sox scored six more times. Lollar, Harshman, and Carrasquel singled to fill the bases. Fox’ sacrifice fly plated Lollar. Minoso forced Carrasquel and Kell doubled, chasing home Minoso and Harshman. Nieman walked and Dropo singled for another run. Rivera singled home another, and Lollar singled to score Dropo. It was 22–6.

Minoso’s three-run homer in the seventh and Harshman’s two-run shot in the eighth increased the lead to 27–6. Later in the eighth, Minoso singled in another run and Stan Jok’s sac fly finished the scoring.

Nieman and Lollar each hit a pair of home runs, and Dropo, Minoso, and pitcher Harshman clubbed one each. Lollar twice had two hits in an inning, which itself tied a major league record.

June 22, 1956: Sam Esposito leads Sox to four-game sweep of Yankees

On Friday, June 22, 1956, the first-place Yankees (40–20) came to town to face Chicago (32–22). The Yankees featured eventual Triple Crown winner Mickey Mantle (52 HR, 130 RBI, and .353 BA), and Yogi Berra, Bill Skowron, Gil McDougald, Elston Howard, and Hank Bauer as well as pitchers Whitey Ford, Johnny Kucks, Don Larsen, and Tom Sturdivant.

In the first game of the four-game set, Casey Stengel started Sturdivant against Dick Donovan.10 The Sox scored in the third and fifth, but the Yankees tied it with runs in the eighth and ninth. After a scoreless tenth, the Yankees scored two in the eleventh as reserve first baseman Joe Collins singled to chase home Gil McDougald and Norm Siebern.

Sherm Lollar flied out to open the bottom of the eleventh. Walt Dropo singled, but pinch-hitter Bubba Phillips was called out on strikes. Minnie Minoso hit for Luis Aparicio, putting men on second and third. Light-hitting Sammy Esposito batted for Donovan and he too doubled, scoring pinch-runners Jim Delsing and Billy Pierce. Although Jim Rivera singled and Nellie Fox walked, they could not score the winning run.

The Yankees went out in the twelfth, and Dave Philley singled off Rip Coleman to open the home half and Lollar was hit by a pitch. Phillips struck out, but pinch-hitter Ron Northey walked. Esposito then singled home Lollar, and the Sox had stolen game one. Sandy Consuegra was the winning pitcher.

“ Chuck Comiskey strode in amid the shrieking players, shook young Esposito’s hand and said with a wide grin, ‘You’re the new mayor of the city.11’”

On June 23 the Yankees started former 20-game winner Bob Grim while the Sox used Jim Wilson^12. Grim pitched a good game, but in the sixth, he hit Dave Philley with a pitch. After a bench-clearing fight, Philley was ejected^13. Lollar doubled to score pinch-runner Jim Delsing, and later, Aparicio singled to drive in Walt Dropo. Wilson only gave up four hits and the Sox won 2–0.

Although the Yankees had played six more games, the two teams were now tied in the loss column: NY 40–22 (.645) and Chicago 34–22 (.607).

Sunday June 24 featured a doubleheader. Game One matched aces Ford and Pierce. The game did not begin well for the Sox, as leadoff man Hank Bauer tripled and Mickey Mantle singled to score him^14. Fortunately, Pierce retired Yogi Berra and Bill Skowron. Esposito, leading off for the Sox, singled to start the first and went to third on a groundout and a wild pitch. Ford hit Minoso with a pitch and Philley singled to plate Esposito. Larry Doby followed with a home run, pushing the Sox ahead 4–1. The Sox continued to pour it on and won 14–2.

The Yankees started Mickey McDermott in Game Two while the Sox started Gerry Staley, who later became their star reliever^15. Again, Esposito played third and led off. The Yankees did not score in the first, and Esposito walked to start the Sox half. Fox singled and Minoso walked, stuffing the bases. Philley’s sacrifice fly scored Esposito and Doby crushed another three-run homer for a 4–0 Sox lead. After Lollar singled, Don Larsen relieved McDermott, but it was too late. Esposito doubled, walked, and scored a run in a 6–3 Sox win.

Falling in four straight to the Sox, the Yankees stood at 40–24.16 The Sox, at 36–22, had pulled within one game of the league leaders. Unfortunately, the Sox dropped from the heights, playing at .500 for two weeks before losing 11 in a row. The club eventually finished third.

Despite worlds of talent, Jim Derrington pitched only 21 big-league games and was finished due to injury by age 22.

Sept. 30, 1956: 16-year-old Jim Derrington becomes the youngest 20th century pitcher to start a major-league game

While the majors had seen some young pitchers, none had been quite as green as Jim Derrington, who took the hill against the last-place Athletics on September 30th, the season’s last day.17 The Sox had clinched third place, and the third-place post-season share, the day before.

Charles “Jim” Derrington, born November 29, 1939, signed with the White Sox as a “bonus baby” on September 12, 1956. He was only 16 years, 10 months, and 1 day old when he made his first start.

Nuxhall was 15 years, 10 months, and 11 days when he pitched for the Reds on June 10, 1944, but “The Old Left-hander” did not start a major league game until July 13, 1952, when he was 23. Carl Scheib, likewise, was younger than Derrington in his first game, but only relieved. Scheib started his first game in June 1947 when he was 20. Roger McKee, 16 years, 11 months, and 2 days old when he relieved on August 18, 1943, started his first game at age 17.18

Only 13,171 attended Derrington’s start at Kansas City. With one out in the home first, Hector Lopez and Lou Skizas singled. Hal Smith doubled to left, scoring Lopez, but Skizas was out at third trying to advance. Johnny Groth then reached on Esposito’s error as Smith scored. Rance Pless walked and Derrington balked. Jim Pisoni walked, but Joe DeMaestri lined out, ending the inning with the Athletics up 2–0.

The Sox filled the bases in the second. Aparicio and Fox walked to push two runs across, and a third scored on an errant pickoff throw, giving the Sox a 3–2 advantage.

Unfortunately, the A’s tied the score in the bottom half on another RBI double by Hal Smith. Kansas City did not score in the fourth, despite two Derrington walks. In the fifth, he gave up only a single to Johnny Groth. The bottom of the sixth, however, proved to be Derrington’s demise. After Joe DeMaestri walked and Bill Harrington whiffed, Vic Power homered. Skizas also laced a home run later in the inning, and the Sox trailed 6–3.

In the seventh, Doby batted for Derrington and grounded out. The Sox rallied late, but fell 7–6, Derrington taking the loss. He gave up nine hits and six walks, five of which came on 3-2 pitches.19

The following season Derrington pitched 20 games, starting five of them. While he went on to work in the minors from 1958–61, Derrington never returned to the majors.20 He remains, however, the second youngest man to start a major league game.

June 13, 1957: Ditmar, Doby, Slaughter fight

The first-place White Sox, six up in the loss column^21, were hosting the second-place Yankees, with Billy Pierce facing Art Ditmar. In the home first, Bubba Phillips struck out, Nellie Fox walked, and Minnie Minoso singled. After Sherm Lollar flied out, Ditmar threw a wild pitch, advancing both runners.

Ditmar then unleashed a pitch toward Larry Doby's head, which resulted in a 28-minute bench-clearing fight after which Doby, Walt Dropo, Billy Martin, and Enos Slaughter—but not Ditmar—were ejected.22

Doby punched out Ditmar and both Bill Skowron and Martin attacked Doby. Dropo pulled Skowron off, and Slaughter then attacked Dropo. Slaughter’s uniform was nearly torn off him. Manager Al Lopez argued that Ditmar also should banished, but the umpires dismissed this by explaining Doby was the “aggressor.”23 After play was resumed, Jim Rivera’s two-run shot gave the Sox the lead in second, but the Yankees rallied, scoring three in the fifth to take a 4–2 lead and knock out Pierce.

Lollar laced a solo home run in the eighth, but the Sox drew no closer. The White Sox soon lost their huge lead over the Yankees and by June 30 were in second place.

An irate Chuck Comiskey arranged a post-game meeting involving AL president Will Harridge, the umpires, and managers of both clubs. He argued, “Why wasn’t Ditmar thrown out? All Doby said to him was: ‘Why don’t you watch where you’re throwing?’ Then Ditmar said, ‘Go (chase) yourself.’ Doby said: ‘I’ll chase you right now.’ Ditmar turned around and Doby hit him. This is a joke. Are there two sets of rules in the league? I’d like amenity.”24

Harridge, who had been at the game, levied no suspensions, but did fine Doby, Martin, and Slaughter $150 and Dropo and Ditmar $100.25

Luis Aparicio joined the White Sox at age 22 and led the AL in steals his first nine seasons.

July 14, 1957: Game #2 of DH against the Yankees at Comiskey Park

One month after the Ditmar/Doby game,26 the Sox were three games out of first. Chicago won the first game of the day’s doubleheader 3–1 as Billy Pierce tamed New York on five hits.27 Comiskey Park fit in 48,244 fans that day, some 1,500 more than official capacity.28 A win in the nightcap would pull the Sox within one.

Chicago’s Dick Donovan fashioned a gem, scattering five singles over eight innings. The Sox scored in the first on Luis Aparicio’s triple and Earl Torgeson’s fly and plated two more in the third. In the fifth, the Sox knocked out Ford and Yankees reliever Tommy Byrne walked in another run.

With a 4–0 lead in the ninth, everyone expected a sweep. But Mickey Mantle singled as did Yogi Berra. Harry Simpson singled in Mantle and Jim Wilson replaced Donovan with the score 4–1. Hank Bauer singled, but Wilson fanned Elston Howard. Bill Skowron then pinch-hit for Jerry Coleman and launched a grand slam home run for a 5–4 Yankees lead.

Pitcher Byrne followed with another home run and the score was 6–4. The Sox went scoreless in their half of the inning and the crowd filed silently out of Comiskey.29 The Sox were not the same afterward; several times they pulled within three games but got no closer. The pennant race had ended that day.

June 27, 1958: Billy Pierce loses a perfect game on a pinch hit with two outs in the ninth

The Sox hosted the eighth-place Senators on June 27, 1958.30 Washington had some quality hitters in the lineup, including Roy Sievers, Jim Lemon, Albie Pearson (Rookie of the Year that season), Norm Zauchin, and Eddie Yost.

Billy Pierce faced Russ Kemmerer. While Kemmerer allowed three runs on eight hits, Pierce retired the side inning by inning. After eight innings, Pierce had whiffed seven batters and no one had reached base. Nobody in the majors had thrown a regular-season perfect game since Charlie Robertson of the White Sox in 1922.

With 11,300 fans cheering him on, Pierce got Ken Aspromonte to ground to Luis Aparicio at short. Catcher Steve Korcheck became Pierce’s eighth strikeout victim. Now down to his last out, Washington manager Cookie Lavagetto inserted Ed Fitz Gerald as a pinch-hitter for Kemmerer.31

“ On the first pitch, a knee high curve ball, he swung late and sliced it fair by a foot just out of Ray Boone’s reach at first base. Fitz Gerald made it to second for a double.” A loud groan went through the stands. Pierce then fanned Pearson for the final out. When asked about breaking up the perfect game, Fitz Gerald said, “I was sent up to hit, wasn’t I?”32

April 22, 1959: Sox score 11 runs in one inning—on one hit

Scoring 11 runs in one inning is interesting enough, but even more so when you are behind 6–1 after just two innings. The Athletics routed Early Wynn, that year’s AL Cy Young winner, from the mound after just 12/3 frames. 33

Reliever Bob Shaw came on for Chicago and tossed 71/3 scoreless innings, paving the way for the White Sox’ decisive 19-run comeback and a 20–6 final.

Chicago knocked out starter Ned Garver in the fourth inning and routed Bud Daley during the sixth, taking an 8–6 lead.34, 35

Things got nutty in the top of the seventh. Tom Gorman relieved for the Athletics and Ray Boone reached on Joe DeMaestri’s throwing error. Al Smith reached when third baseman Hal Smith (usually a catcher) fumbled a sacrifice bunt. Johnny Callison singled—the only hit of the inning—to score Boone, and Smith scored as well when right fielder Roger Maris fumbled the ball. Callison advanced to third.

Luis Aparicio walked and quickly stole second. Gorman also walked Shaw to fill the bases. Earl Torgeson batted for Sammy Esposito and walked to force home Callison and give the Sox an 11–6 advantage. Mark Freeman replaced Gorman, who had faced six batters and retired none of them.

Nellie Fox walked to force in Aparicio with the fourth run. Jim Landis grounded to Freeman who forced Shaw at home. Freeman, however, walked Sherman Lollar, scoring Torgeson with the fifth run. George Brunet replaced Freeman and walked Boone; this scored Fox for the sixth run. Smith walked to push home the seventh run. Brunet hit Callison with a pitch, forcing in Lollar with the eighth run of the inning and a 16–6 lead.

Lou Skizas ran for Callison, and Brunet walked Aparicio to plate yet another run. Shaw struck out. Bubba Phillips batted for Torgeson and—you guess it—walked, scoring Smith with the tenth run. Fox then walked and Skizas tallied the eleventh run. Jim Landis grounded out, Brunet to first baseman Kent Hadley, to end the inning.

The White Sox had scored eleven runs (only two of them earned) on one hit, three errors, ten walks, and one hit by pitch and now led 19–6. The Sox added a final tally in the ninth as Aparicio singled, advanced on a bunt, and scored on Fox’ single.

September 22, 1959: The Sox clinch the AL pennant, Fire Chief Quinn turns on the sirens, and some people think the Russians have attacked

On September 22, the White Sox faced the second-place Indians in a night game at Cleveland’s Municipal Stadium. The Sox were 91–59 and within one victory of clinching the AL flag outright.36

Cleveland featured the strong bats of Vic Power, Woodie Held, Minnie Minoso, Jim Piersall, Tito Francona, and Rocky Colavito. Cal McLish won 19 games, Gary Bell won 16, young Jim Perry won 12, and Jim “Mudcat” Grant won ten. Early Wynn started against Perry.

Had the Sox lost, their lead would have fallen to just 2½ games with four contests left against the fourth-place Tigers, while Cleveland would finish with four games against the lowly Athletics.

The Sox scored twice in the third and twice more in the sixth when Jim Rivera and Al Smith clouted back-to-back homers. The Indians scored in the fifth and tacked on another in the sixth, when Bob Shaw relieved Wynn. Chicago seemed to be safe with a 4–2 lead, but in the bottom of the ninth with one out, Cleveland’s Jim Baxes singled and Ray Webster pinch ran for him.

Former Sox pitcher Jack Harshman singled to right, putting runners on first and second. Carroll Hardy ran for Harshman. Jim Piersall then singled to load the bases. The crowd of 54,293, sensing its moment, roared.

Sox skipper Al Lopez brought in ace reliever Gerry Staley. Vic Power offered at Staley’s first pitch and slapped a grounder toward Aparicio. The lithe shortstop sucked up the ball, stepped on second, and fired to first to complete the 6-3 double play, ending the game and clinching the Sox’ first pennant in forty years.37

Chicago Fire Commissioner Robert J. Quinn set off the city’s air-raid sirens to celebrate the pennant.38 This odd nighttime action took many people by surprise, however, and even induced some to think that the Soviet Union had attacked. A Chicago detective tried, unsuccessfully, to obtain a warrant against Quinn for disorderly conduct for sounding the air raid.39

Quinn, a Sox fan, never apologized for the incident, which became another key piece of the team’s legendary 1959 campaign.

1. Vaughan, Irving. Sox Get Minoso, Lehner; Play Yanks Today: Gus Zernial and Philley Go … Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); May 1, 1951; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. B1

1. Vaughan, Irving. May 2, 1951. Sox beaten 8-3, Minoso Clouts Homer, Gives Yanks 2 runs. ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990), C1

2. Prell, Ed. Cavarretta Sounds Grimm Job As Player-Coach. ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) March 31, 1954. B1

3. Official Baseball Guide and Record Book 1955. Compiled by J.G. Taylor Spink. Published by Charles C. Spink & Son, St Louis, 1955. p 99-100.

4. Burns, Edward. Chicagoan—Only His Suit’s Changed: Sox Sign Cavarretta; Face Indians and Lemon Tonight. Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); May 25, 1954.

5. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1954/B05281BAL1954.htm

6. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/C/Pcavap101.htm

7. Vaughan, Irving. Sox Tie Major League Records; Beat A’s, 29-6: 29 Hits Fall One Short. Apr 24, 1955; pg. B1

8. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1955/B04230KC11955.htm

9. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1956/B06220CHA1956.htm

10. Dozer, Richard. “Let’s Keep Sam Warm,” Say Sox In Happy Mood: Jun 23, 1956; pg. B1

11. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1956/B06230CHA1956.htm

12. Prell, Edward. Sox Beat Yankees Again! Players Fight: Philley, Grim Trade Blows; Wilson Wins His 10th, 2-0 New York League Lead Narrowed to 3 Games. Jun 24, 1956; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990)

13. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1956/B06241CHA1956.htm

14. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1956/B06242CHA1956.htm

15. A Series Sweep—and How! Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963);Jun 25, 1956; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. C2 pg. A1

16. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1956/B09300KC11956.htm

17. http://www.timeanddate.com/date/duration.html

18. Cromie, Robert. Bonus Hurler and Sox Lose to A’s, 7 to 6. Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Oct 1, 1956; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. C3

1. http://www.baseball-reference.com/minors/player.cgi?id=derrin002cha

2. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1957/B06130CHA1957.htm

3. Vaughan, Irving. Players Fight As Yanks Beat Sox, 4-3: Ditmar’s Errant Pitch Sets Off … Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Jun 14, 1957; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. C1

4. Doby’s Left Hook Drops Hurler in 1st Inning: 2 Sox, 3 Yankees Ousted for Scrap Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Jun 14, 1957; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. C1

5. Cromie, Robert. Comiskey Is Irate; Asks Explanation: Comiskey’s Ire Up After Sox, Yankee Scrap. Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Jun 14, 1957; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990). pg. C1

1. Doby, Dropo, 3 Yanks Share $650 In Fines. Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Jun 15, 1957; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. A2

2. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1957/B07141CHA1957.htm

3. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1957/B07142CHA1957.htm

4. Boren, Stephen. New Park Spurs Reflections On Baseball, Medicine and Tradition. American Medical News, American Medical Association, Chicago, April 8, 1991.

5. Villainous Heroes: Sox Too Close, So Yankees Had to Win. Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Jul 15, 1957; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. C1

6. Dozer, Richard. 27th Man Ruins Pierce’s Perfect Game: Fitz Gerald, a Pinch Hitter... Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Jun 28, 1958; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. A1

7. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1958/B06270CHA1958.htm

8. Dozer, Richard. Pierce Just ‘Happy To Win’: Hides Disappointment Over Lone Hit Pierce Hides His Sorrow Over Late Hit. Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Jun 28, 1958; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. A1

9. Dozer, Richard. Sox Win, 20-6; Score 11 Rounds On 1 Hit!: A’s Chip In 10 Walks And ...Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963);Apr 23, 1959;ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. D1

10. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1959/B04220KC11959.htm

11. How They Did It: Seventh Inning. Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Apr 23, 1959; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. D4

12. http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1959/VCHA01959.htm

13. ’ Twas a Long, Long Pull--40 Years!--to Sox Pennant: Lopez Won After 15 Managers Failed. Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Sep 23, 1959; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. C1

14. Files Formal Protest Over Sirens For Sox. Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Sep 25, 1959; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. A2

15. Muller Loses Air Raid Scare Warrant Plea. Chicago Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Sep 26, 1959; ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1990) pg. W11

Mr. Cub

Joseph Wancho

“Jarvis fires away…That’s a fly ball, deep to left, back, back…HEY HEY! He did it! Ernie Banks got number 500! The ball tossed to the bullpen…everybody on your feet...this…is IT! WHEEEEEEEE!”-Jack Brickhouse, WGN-TV, May 12, 1970 [i]

When the curtain rang down on the 1969 season, Ernie Banks was just three home runs shy of 500. But the Chicago Cubs first baseman was not one to dwell on personal achievements. He was probably preoccupied with the disappointing year enjoyed by his team; 1969 was the closest he or many of his teammates had come to a post-season. But Banks was a glass-half-full type of person. Blue skies and better days were ahead.

As the 1970 season commenced, Banks was assigned an unfamiliar role—serving as a back-up to Jim Hickman at first base. His at-bats would be less frequent, and accordingly so were his home runs. Banks’ daughter Jan asked him to please “get it over with.” On May 12, 1970, Banks was only too happy to oblige. Facing Atlanta’s Pat Jarvis in the second inning, he deposited the 1-1 offering into the left field bleachers. Because of dark clouds and threatening skies, the crowd was sparse at Wrigley Field. But the 5,264 in attendance cheered loudly, demanding a curtain call from Mr. Cub. They knew full well the significance of the clout; Ernie Banks was the ninth player in major league history to reach 500 home runs.

“ The pitch was inside and up,” said Banks. “They’ve been pitching me inside lately, because I haven’t been getting around on the ball.” ii As Banks rounded the bases, and doffed his cap at home plate in acknowledgment of the cheering fans, many thoughts went through his head. “I was thinking about my mother and dad, about all the people in the Cubs’ organization that helped me and about the wonderful Chicago fans who have come out all these years to cheer us on,” said Banks. “You know, I felt it was the fans last Saturday who helped me hit that No. 499 homer and today my No. 500. They’ve been a great inspiration to me.” iii

The Cubs won the game 4–3 on a single by Ron Santo in the bottom of the eleventh. The win kept Chicago atop the National League’s Eastern Division. Billy Williams, who also homered in the game, later said that there was no way the Cubs were going to lose and spoil Banks’ day. As the celebration carried on in the clubhouse, Banks leapt onto a chair and said “The riches of the game are in the thrills, not in the money.” iv For many, a statement like that might come across as lip service. But coming from Ernie Banks, those words rang truer then the Bell Tower at the Merchandise Mart.

Ernest Banks was born on January 31, 1931, in Dallas, Texas. He was the second oldest of Eddie and Essie Banks’ 12 children. Following World War I, Eddie Banks joined the Dallas Black Giants. The Black Giants were a traveling team, and for eight seasons, Eddie played catcher. Their schedule took them to Kansas City, Shreveport, Oklahoma City, and many other cities across the country. When his playing days were over, Eddie worked as a chain store warehouse porter for 25 years.

Ernie Banks in the 1950s.

When Ernie was eight, Eddie presented him with his first glove and ball. Eddie would come home from work, wanting to play catch with his son. “I wouldn’t have anything to do with them,” said Ernie. “So dad gave me 10 cents to play catch with him. From then on, whenever he wanted to play catch, he’d bribe me with nickels and dimes.” [v]

“ The bat came later, and that almost wrecked everything,” says Eddie Banks. “Drives off Ernie’s bat broke so many windows in the neighborhood that we were always in trouble. He smashed so many windows that I was almost broke trying to pay for them.” vi

Ernie Banks attended Booker T. Washington High school. He excelled in football and basketball, but the school did not offer baseball as an extra-curricular activity. As a substitute, Ernie played softball. Like many children finding their way, he was introverted and shy. “I thought talking to human beings was just something that could make things complicated and unpleasant. So I didn’t talk much. I just watched people.” vii

Bill Blair, a graduate of Washington High School, spotted Banks’ ability on the softball field. In Blair’s opinion, if Banks could excel at softball, it was not that big of a big leap to do just as well in baseball. Although Banks was only a sophomore, Blair appealed to his parents to allow their son to try out for a traveling team based in Amarillo, Texas. Johnny Carter, owner of the misleadingly-named Detroit Colts—a feeder for professional Negro Leagues teams—visited the Banks household, promising that Ernie would return for his junior year of high school.

The year was 1947, and Jackie Robinson had just broken into the major leagues a couple of months earlier. But the realization of others joining him any time soon was just a dream. “I didn’t understand anything about playing baseball,” said Banks. “I started playing and it was enjoyable. Most of my life I played with older people on my team, in my league. I learned a lot about life. Every day in my life I learned something new from somebody.” viii Many of the players he faced were in their thirties, or even forties, and had much more experience in baseball—and life.

The Colts traveled through Texas, New Mexico, Kansas, Nebraska, and Oklahoma. For a teenager, such an adventure certainly beat getting up early with his father to pick cotton, shine shoes, or do any of the other menial jobs Banks had held back in Dallas. His performance on the field was superb, and he won the shortstop job after just a few days of training. The youngster who was skeptical about playing baseball homered in his third at-bat of his first game.

Banks returned to the Colts following his junior year of high school. Playing against the Kansas City Stars, Banks impressed Stars manager “Cool Papa” Bell both with his unruffled behavior off the field and his ability on the diamond. “His conduct was almost as outstanding as his ability,” said Bell. ix

Bell promised Banks a spot with the Kansas City Monarchs if he completed his senior year of high school. Bell had already recommended Banks to Buck O’Neil, the Monarchs skipper, who was already happy with his current shortstop, Gene Baker. But on March 8, 1950, the Chicago Cubs signed Baker to be their first black player. Even though Baker was good enough to play in the majors, his talent did not approach Ernie’s.

The Monarchs offered Banks $300 a month, and Eddie and Essie Banks gave their assent. For Ernie Banks, a new life opened up. He was fortunate to join an organization with a history of success in the Negro Leagues. Kansas City was a pillar of black baseball. “’Cool Papa’ Bell was the first one who impressed me. Buck O’Neil helped me in many ways. He installed a positive influence.” [x]

In 1950, Banks’ first season with the Monarchs, he played shortstop and hit a reported .255. “Playing for the Kansas City Monarchs was like my school, my learning, my world,” said Banks. “It was my whole life.” xi As great as an education he may have received as a member of the Monarchs, his greatest thrill to date was just ahead. He was offered the opportunity to barnstorm with the “Jackie Robinson All-Stars,” which also included Roy Campanella, Don Newcombe, and Larry Doby, who were touring with the Indianapolis Clowns of the Negro League. Banks made $400 for the tour and, more importantly, received lessons from Robinson on turning the double play.

Banks was then drafted into the United States Army, reporting to Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas. His battalion reported to New Orleans in early 1952 and traveled by boat to Germany, where Banks served the rest of his two-year hitch. He was discharged in January 1953.

Although Brooklyn and Cleveland contacted Banks to attend tryouts, the young shortstop made a beeline back to Kansas City. By this time, many blacks had turned their attention away from the Negro Leagues and toward the majors. As more black players left the Negro Leagues, interest waned and attendance dropped. Buck O’Neil knew it was only a matter of time before his prized player would also leave.

In September 1953, the Chicago Cubs offered the Kansas City Monarchs $20,000 for the rights to Banks and pitcher Bill Dickey. Banks, who signed a contract for $800 a month, xii debuted in the majors on September 17, 1953. Gene Baker, called up from Los Angeles of the Pacific Coast League, played his first game three days later. “They knew we were going to bring Baker to the Cubs, and they knew he’d need a roommate,” said Lennie Merullo, a former Cubs infielder then working as the club’s chief scout. “One reason they signed Banks was so that Baker would have a roommate. That’s true. You couldn’t isolate a guy.” xiii

Mr. Cub, King of the North Side.

The Cubs were not paying $20,000 just for a roommate. Ernie did not spend a day in the minors, reporting directly to Cubs manager Phil Cavarretta. Banks played the last 10 games of the 1953 season and didn’t sit again until August 11, 1956, by which time he had played 424 straight games. In 1955, Banks’ second full season in Chicago, he stepped in the national spotlight. He was ranked third in home runs (44) and fourth in RBI (117) and hit .295. Banks also led all shortstops with a .972 fielding percentage.

He appeared in his first All-Star Game in 1955, the first of 14 midsummer classic berths for Banks. That season, he set a major league record with five grand slam home runs. The last one came in St. Louis on September 19. “Naturally, I knew I needed another one to break the record, but I never dreamed it would happen to me,” said Banks. “Then the kid (St. Louis pitcher Lindy McDaniel) gave me a fastball that was a bit outside, and I knew it was gone as soon as I hit it. It was one of the best pitches I‘ve hit all season, but it’s still hard to believe.” xiv

“Of course, Ernie Banks was a good hitter, even at the beginning,” said Ralph Kiner, a pretty fair hitter in his own right. “I liked watching him. He would lightly rap his fingers on the bat; he looked like he was playing the flute.” xv Banks played a full-blown symphony in both 1958 and 1959, when he was twice honored by the Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA) as the National League’s MVP. The Sporting News also named Banks its N.L. Player of the Year for both seasons. In 1958, he topped the NL in home runs, RBIs, and slugging percentage, and the following year topped the league in RBIs and ranked second in homers. He also led all shortstops with a .985 fielding percentage and committed only 12 errors. Both of these statistics set major league records for shortstops. xvi

“ Ernie Banks was a super guy. My kids loved him. Could he ever hit! He had just had back-to back MVP seasons despite playing for a bad ballclub. He had his fourth straight year with over 40 homers and way over 100 RBIs,” said his 1950s teammate Frank Thomas. xvii

“ I don’t try to hit home runs. I just try to meet the ball and get base hits,” noted Mr. Cub. “I’m swingin’ at better pitches than I did in previous years. I’m not letting those strikes get by. I try to stay ready to hit the fastball. If I’m fooled by the pitch, I take it. I protect myself when the ball is outside and concentrate on hitting strikes.” xviii Phillies pitcher Robin Roberts noted, however, that Banks was never the most patient hitter: “He doesn’t take many bad pitches; he swings at them.” xix

In 1960, Banks again paced the NL in home runs with 41. He also knocked in 117 and led the league again in fielding percentage, winning his only Gold Glove. Ron Santo joined the club in mid-year and added some power and offense to the lineup. The following season, Billy Williams won Rookie of the Year honors from both the Sporting News and the BBWAA, forming with Santo and Banks a three-headed monster. “My second year I hit behind Banks, and he hit 29 home runs, and I spent about 29 times in the dirt,” said Santo. “I used to say to him, ‘You’re hitting the home runs. Why am I spending time in the dirt?’ He just laughed. That’s the way it was then. You accepted it. You didn’t think twice about it. This was all respect.” xx

For 1961, Cubs owner Philip K. Wrigley designed a plan under which the Cubs would operate without a manager “as that position is generally understood.”   An eight-man staff, augmented by other coaches from the organization, would take turns directing the major-league team and rotating through the minor-league system. This unique and radical idea was called the “College of Coaches.”  This approach, which Wrigley called “business efficiency applied to baseball,” was questioned by most and ridiculed by many .

Early in 1961, then-head coach Vedie Himsl asked Banks if he would mind moving to the outfield. Banks had never played the outfield, but he always put the good of the team first, and agreed so that the Cubs could promote Jerry Kindall, a bonus baby signing from 1956.

Banks was a fish out of water in left field, but Chicago center fielder Richie Ashburn helped give him direction. Banks made 23 starts in left field from May 23 through June 14 and also put in a few games at first base before returning to shortstop. His consecutive game streak of 717 ended on June 23 because of his ailing knee; he had banged his left knee on the brick wall at Candlestick Park and was moved back to shortstop. The knee, originally injured in the Army, continued to give him trouble.

Ernie returned to first base in 1962. Kindall was traded to Cleveland and Andre Rodgers was inserted as the starter at shortstop. “This presents many problems,” said Banks. “Not the least of them is what to do with my feet. Sometimes I seem to have too many and sometimes not enough. I took a whirl at first base last year and I knew even less about it than I do now.” xxi

On May 25, 1962, Cincinnati’s Moe Drabowsky—a former teammate—plunked Banks in the head with a pitch. Although he did not lose consciousness, Banks was dazed and was sent to the hospital for observation for a couple of days. Two days later after being released, Banks hit three consecutive home runs against Milwaukee at Wrigley Field.

A late 1953 pose. Left to right: Dale Talbot, Gene Baker, manager Phil Cavarretta, Banks, and Bill Moisan.

Banks’ offense began to suffer, as he hit 37 home runs and drove in 104 runs in 1962 but slumped in other categories. Although Buck O’Neil, who was scouting for the Cubs, soon joined the staff and was the first black coach in the majors, Wrigley’s “College of Coaches” concept was otherwise a failure. Bob Kennedy, a former major league outfielder, was named the lone head coach in 1963, but over the next three years, he had to deal with a dozen or so revolving coaches.

Banks slumped badly in 1963. He suffered most of the season from sub-clinical mumps, in which the disease remains in the blood without breaking out, and was sidelined for the last three weeks. He also missed games because of a sore right knee and a heel bruise. He did set a major league record with 22 putouts at first base on May 9, 1963, as Dick Ellsworth topped Pittsburgh 3-1 on two hits.

The Cubs improved some in that season, but promising second baseman Ken Hubbs—the 1962 Rookie of the Year—died February 15, 1964, when he crashed a small plane into an ice-covered section of Utah Lake. He was 22 years old.

To make things worse, on June 15, 1964, the Cubs shipped outfielder Lou Brock to St. Louis in a six-player deal.  In sixth place but only 5½ games off the pace, the Cubs were trying to bolster their pitching corps, but Ernie Broglio, the centerpiece of the deal, had a bad arm and was out of baseball two years later. The Cardinals used Brock differently than had the Cubs, utilizing his speed. He became the all-time leader in stolen bases, running all the way to Cooperstown.

The Chicago front office hired Leo Durocher to take the helm for 1966. “The Lip” had piloted three other clubs to pennants and captured a world championship in 1954 with the New York Giants. His clubs finished either second or third nine other times. Most felt that Durocher’s rough-and-ready style was just what the Cubs needed.

In his 14th season, Banks was sick of losing. Even for a player with a sunny disposition, losing can take a toll. “I am happy Leo is here. I am delighted. I think Durocher—“Leo the Lip” as they say—will shake things up. He will be able to do things that some of the others could not do. If Leo gets the Cubs going, I will be happy to play a part even if I am not here when we eventually win a pennant. Just winning and being in the first division would be great incentive for the fellows around here,” said Banks. xxii

Although Banks was in a good frame of mind, others painted a different picture. “He (Durocher) disliked Ernie from the go,” wrote broadcaster Jack Brickhouse. “It was just that Ernie was too big a name in Chicago to suit Durocher.” xxiii

“ I can remember Ernie and Leo were constantly feuding,” recalled Ferguson Jenkins. “Leo was always giving Ernie Banks’ job away. Every spring he’d give it away to John Boccabella or George Altman or (Willie) Smith or Lee Thomas, and Ernie would win it back again. Ernie knew that Leo did not like him. There was no ‘Come over for tea and crumpets’ with Ernie for Leo…Ernie was always going to spring training, and someone always had his job, and Ernie would always win it back.” xxiv

Curiously, Banks was named as a “player-coach” during spring training 1967. All of the right comments were made and speculation about Banks’ playing time diminishing was dismissed. “I’m very happy about it,” said Banks. “I’m looking forward to working with the younger players. It’s all very gratifying.” xxv

Despite the clash between the Cubs star and the skipper, Chicago finished in third place in 1967 and 1968. Although they were a distant third behind St. Louis and San Francisco both times, this was unfamiliar terrain. Glenn Beckert at second base and Don Kessinger at short were as solid as any DP combo in the league. Randy Hundley came over from San Francisco and was a solid catcher for several seasons. The pitching staff, led by Ferguson Jenkins who would win 20 games six years in a row, was taking shape. Banks’ batting average was on the decline, but he slugged 32 homers in 1968.

The National and American Leagues split into divisions for the first time in 1969, creating a playoff system. Both leagues had an East and West Division, each with six teams.  The Cubs were placed in the N.L. East. All signs pointed to Chicago ending its postseason drought in 1969 and for their fans, there was no better way to spend the summer than at Wrigley Field. Jenkins and Bill Hands both won 20 games, while Santo, Banks, and Williams combined to smack 73 round trippers and drive in 324 runs. It was also in July 1969 that the phrase “Let’s Play Two” was attributed to Banks. The Cubs were to play a game in 100-degree heat and Banks, looking to inspire his teammates, uttered the phrase. Sportswriter Jimmy Enright reported it and credited Ernie. xxvi

At the end of August, the Cubs held a 4½-game lead over second-place New York. A two-game series at Shea Stadium in early September featured Jenkins and Hands against the Mets’ best hurlers, Tom Seaver and Jerry Koosman. The Mets took both games to slice their deficit to a half-game. Chicago never recovered, going 8–12 the rest of the season. Conversely, the Mets went 18–5 and cruised to the division title by a margin of eight games. “I admit we played horseshit in the last few weeks,” said Durocher. “We’ve played some of the worst baseball I’ve seen in years. But that doesn’t discount the fact that the Mets played like hell. They got in a streak and couldn’t lose.” xxvii

The Cubs made a strong bid again for the playoffs in 1970, trailing Pittsburgh by 1½ on September 19. But a 4–7 record to close the year made them bridesmaids again. For the first time, Banks was used primarily as a reserve. Even when he was got the chance to play, Banks was disrespected by Durocher. Once the manager sent Jim Hickman, like Banks a right-handed batter, to pinch-hit for him against a southpaw. “Hickman told me later it was one of the toughest things he ever had to do,” said Brickhouse. xxviii

Ernie Banks retired from major league baseball at the conclusion of the 1971 season. He was 40 years old. Over his 19-year career he hit .274, made 2,583 hits, pounded out 512 home runs and 407 doubles, and drove in 1,636 runs. He was enshrined in the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1977, his first year of eligibility. He, Cal Ripken Jr., and Honus Wagner were the shortstops on Major League Baseball’s All-Century Team in 1999.

Banks was the Cubs’ first-base coach in 1973 and 1974, remained in the Cubs organization on a personal services contract for most of the next two decades. He was named to the Cubs Board of Directors in 1978.

Banks also had his own sports marketing firm and was employed by World Van Lines for more than 20 years. He also worked for the Bank of Ravenswood in Chicago. Even when he was still playing baseball, Banks bought in to a Ford automobile dealership in 1967, becoming the second black in the U.S. to own one. He also served on the board of the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) in 1969.

In 1982, the Cubs retired his #14. On Opening Day in 2008, the team unveiled a statue of Banks outside of Wrigley Field.

In 2013, Banks received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in a ceremony at the White House. It is the highest honor a United States civilian can receive. “That’s Mr. Cub—the man who came up through the Negro Leagues, making $7 a day, and became the first black player to suit up for the Cubs and one of the greatest hitters of all time,” said President Barack Obama. “In the process, Ernie became known as much for his 512 home runs as for his cheer and optimism, and his eternal faith that someday the Cubs would go all the way. That is something that even a White Sox fan like me can respect. He is just a wonderful man and a great icon of my hometown.” xxix

Today, Banks and his wife Liz reside in Southern California. He plays golf regularly with his twin sons, Joey and Jerry, and tastes the creations of his daughter Jan, a local chef. He planned for the future and now lives comfortably. During the 1960s, Cubs owner P.K. Wrigley offered Ernie the chance to invest in a trust fund. Banks put aside half his salary and at age 55 cashed in more than $4 million. He was the only player to take Wrigley’s advice.

Maury Allen, columnist for the New York Post, once wrote about Banks, “With a twinkle in his eye, a smile on his face, a warm handshake and a high-pitched, warm voice, Ernie Banks would move close to a visiting sportswriter and laugh, ‘What a great day for baseball. Let’s play two.’

“ The rain might be beating down on top of the dugout roof at Wrigley Field, or the clouds might be a dark, ominous gray or the world might be threatened with a nuclear holocaust, but Ernie Banks would still offer in his cheery way: Let’s play two. Sometimes three.” xxx

Indeed.

i Phil Rogers, Ernie Banks: Mr. Cub and the Summer of ’69, Triumph Books, Chicago IL, 2011, 5.

ii Sporting News, May 30, 1970, 5.

iii Ibid

iv Ibid

v Rogers, 29.

vi Sporting News, February 17, 1960, 3.

vii Lew Freedman, Game of My Life: Chicago Cubs; Memorable Stories of Cubs Baseball, Sports Publishing L.L.C., Champaign, IL, 104.

viii Rogers, 58.

ix Rogers, 59.

x Freedman, 106.

xi Mlb.com, February 1, 2012.

xii Peter Golenbock, Wrigleyville, St. Martin’s Press, New York, NY, 1996, 349.

xiii Goldenbock, 347.

xiv Chicago American News, September 20, 1955, 23.

xv Danny Peary, We Played the Game, Hyperion, New York, NY, 249.

xvi St. Louis Post-Dispatch, December 17, 1959

xvii Peary, 464.

xviii Chicago Daily News, August 29, 1959

xix Ibid

xx Golenbock, 380.

xxi New York Times, May 18, 1962

xxii Newsday, March 3, 1966

xxiii David Claerbaut, The Greatest Team That Didn’t Win: Durocher’s Cubs, Taylor Publishing Company, Dallas TX, 2000, 26.

xxiv Golenbock, 399.

xxv Sporting News, March 18, 1967, 19.

xxvi Gerald C. Wood and Andrew Hazucha, Northsiders: Essays on the History, and the Culture of the Chicago Cubs, McFarland and Company, Jefferson, N.C., 2008, 101.

xxvii Rogers, 227.

xxviii Claerbaut, 26.

xxix MLB.COM, November 11, 2013.

xxx Wood and Hazucha, 101.

How Good Was the White Sox’ Pitching in the 1960s?

Brendan Bingham

The 1959 Chicago White Sox won the American League pennant despite a league-average offense. Under manager Al Lopez, the “Go-Go” Sox combined speed, fielding, and—especially—pitching to shatter the New York Yankees’ four-year run of AL championships.

The 1959 pitching staff was anchored by starters Early Wynn (age 39), Billy Pierce (32), and Dick Donovan (31). Abetted by relative youngster Bob Shaw (26), the 1959 rotation continued the solid pitching that had been the team’s staple during the 1950s. No additional AL pennants came the South Siders’ way in the decade ahead. Their closest finishes were one game back in 1964 and three games back, in fourth place, in 1967.

The absence of success, though, was no fault of the team’s run prevention abilities, as the White Sox strung together six straight seasons in the 1960s leading the AL in runs allowed per games (RA/G). 1

If the 1960 Sox’ pitching performance dropped off from 1959, it was a minor difference (Table 1). 2 In 1959, the Sox staff led the league in RA/G, earned run average (ERA), and adjusted ERA (ERA+) 3 and were second in walks and hits allowed per inning pitched (WHIP). The 1960 team was second in RA/G and third in ERA and ERA+. The drop off in 1961 was more pronounced, with near league-average team RA/G, ERA, and WHIP, but the start of as six-year run of AL-leading RA/G was only a season away.

The 1962 Sox pitching staff bore only a vague resemblance to the 1959 group. Wynn remained on board, but 1962 would be his last season with Chicago. Released after the season, he signed with Cleveland, where in limited action the next year he notched his 300 th win before retiring. Pierce had been sent to the San Francisco Giants after the 1961 season in a six-player trade. One arm received in return was Eddie Fisher, who would prove valuable through the 1965 season, mostly in a relief role. Donovan, left unprotected in the 1960 expansion draft, became the new Washington Senators’ best pitcher in their inaugural AL season. Shaw left for Kansas City during the 1961 season in an eight-player deal.

Along with Wynn, the 1962 Sox starters were Ray Herbert, Juan Pizarro, John Buzhardt, and Joe Horlen. The 32 year-old Herbert, who had arrived in the Shaw trade, enjoyed his only All-Star season in 1962, posting 20 wins and a 3.27 ERA. Pizarro, Buzhardt, and Horlen, key members of the pitching staff in the coming years, were all age 24 or 25. Pizarro had been acquired from the Braves before the 1961 season, Buzhardt from the Phillies before the 1962 season, and Horlen was home-grown, signed out of Oklahoma State University in 1959. In 1962, the young pitchers showed potential and inexperience. Sox starters were 58–64 with an ERA close to league average. It was the Sox’ bullpen that led the staff to 1962 season ERA and ERA+ close to the league’s best. Fisher and journeymen Turk Lown, Frank Baumann, and Dom Zanni posted a 3.22 relief ERA in more than 400 innings.

The Sox’ pitching improved in 1963 as the club led the AL in RA/G, ERA, and ERA+ and ranked second in WHIP. This improvement was attributable mainly to the maturation of the young starting corps. Pizarro, Buzhardt, and Horlen all improved on their previous years’ performance, although Buzhardt missed much of the second half with arm and shoulder problems, 4 and Horlen spent a short stint in the minors to regain his control and confidence. 5 The elder Herbert turned in another solid season, although not quite to the level of his 1962 campaign.

Wynn’s departure before the 1963 season made the White Sox pitching staff’s turnover from 1959 complete, but the quality of the mound work was not compromised. Wynn’s absence left an opening in the starting rotation for rookie Gary Peters, whom the Sox had signed in 1956 out of high school, where he had been a first baseman and outfielder and had done only a small amount of pitching. Peters was signed for his hitting, but shifted to the mound once he was in the White Sox system. 6 The Sox gave him his first taste of major-league ball in 1959, but until 1963 limited his major-league service. The timing proved right, as Peters’ 19–8 record and league-leading 2.33 ERA earned him the AL Rookie of the Year Award. Peters remained a cornerstone of the Sox starting rotation through 1969, and throughout his career hit well enough that he was called on to pinch-hit on occasion.

Southpaw Gary Peters, the Sox’ ace in the mid-1960s, led the AL in ERA in 1963 and 1966 and victories in 1964.

Another change the Sox made for 1963 paid dividends for the next six seasons. The White Sox sent the left side of their infield—shortstop Luis Aparicio and third baseman Al Smith—to Baltimore in exchange for infielders Ron Hansen and Pete Ward, outfielder Dave Nicholson, and pitcher Hoyt Wilhelm. Relief specialist Wilhelm had been a selection to the AL All-Star team three of his four seasons in Baltimore, but by baseball standards was considered old in 1963. (When he joined the White Sox, Wilhelm claimed to be 39. In fact, he was 40, according to the birth certificate found following his death in 2002. That document showed him to have been born in 1922, not 1923 as previously believed. 7 )

Age aside, Wilhelm took charge of the Sox bullpen, leading the relief corps in innings pitched in 1963. He was the Sox’ most effective reliever, as measured by ERA, from 1964 through 1968 and did not retire until 1972, evidence that age is not the most critical criterion by which to judge a knuckleball-throwing reliever.

The White Sox’ pitching staff remained largely the same in 1964. The most noteworthy newcomer was 21-year-old Bruce Howard, of Villanova University, 8 who got three starts. Howard remained a solid contributor to the staff as a starter and reliever through 1967. With Sox starters accounting for 73 wins and 47 losses with a 2.65 ERA, the team went deep in the pennant race in 1964, unlike in the preceding seasons. In the effort to compete with the Yankees and Orioles, manager Lopez and pitching coach Ray Berres went with a three-man rotation in the closing weeks of the season, with Peters, Pizarro, and Horlen bearing the burden as starters. Meanwhile, the bullpen had its work horses, too, with Wilhelm accruing more than a third of the team’s relief innings and fellow knuckleballer Fisher contributing nearly as many. The Yankees prevailed in the pennant race, but Chicago’s stout moundsmen topped the AL in RA/G, ERA, ERA+, and WHIP.

A somewhat different and less dominant cast of starting pitchers appeared in 1965. Howard’s role expanded while Pizarro’s was limited by injuries. One off-season trade sent Herbert away, and another, a three-team deal among Chicago, Cleveland, and Kansas City, brought 21-year-old southpaw Tommy John to the White Sox. In aggregate, the starters put up a 62–48 mark and a 3.24 ERA—good but not brilliant. The bullpen, however, was as strong as ever, posting a 2.54 ERA in 518 1/3 innings. The main relief men were Wilhelm, Fisher, and Bob Locker, a 27-year-old rookie, whose history included a college career at Iowa State and two years in the military. 9 Despite the late start, Locker spent ten years as a reliable relief man with four MLB teams. In total, the 1965 staff combined a league-leading WHIP and an ERA just a tick below the league lead.

Lopez retired after the 1965 season, bringing to a close his nine campaigns as Sox manager (he returned to helm the team for three short stints beginning in July 1968). New manager Eddie Stanky set a starting rotation of Horlen, Peters, John, and Buzhardt in 1966. Howard also earned some starts, especially late in the season when Buzhardt was dropped from the rotation. 10 Pizarro, again slowed by injuries, 11 pitched in relief when available. Wilhelm remained the team’s most valuable reliever, but in 1966 he pitched fewer innings than in his previous seasons in Chicago. Meanwhile, Locker contributed another strong season in relief, while Fisher was traded in mid-June. The bulk of the remaining relief innings went to rookie Dennis Higgins.

In all, the 1966 White Sox pitching staff equaled the 1964 staff, leading the AL in RA/G, ERA, WHIP, and ERA+, accomplishments due in large part to Peters’ performance—he paced the league with a 1.98 ERA.

At the start of the 1967 season, there were no changes to the Sox rotation, but Buzhardt contributed just seven starts before losing his starting job. Previously known for his ability to locate his pitches, Buzhardt began to struggle with his control, causing Stanky to puzzle over how best to use the right-hander. A watershed moment came in mid-June when Buzhardt was called on in relief in an extra-inning game. He pitched very effectively in what turned out to be an eight-inning relief appearance, but took a frustrating loss against the Senators in the 22 nd inning. He started only one more game for the Sox before being sold to Baltimore before the season’s end, and was finished as a major league pitcher after the following season. 12

Prior to the season, Pizarro had been traded to Pittsburgh in exchange for Wilbur Wood, another knuckleballer. Mostly a relief contributor in 1967, the 25-year-old Wood showed signs of the talent that would make him the Sox’ most celebrated pitcher of the 1970s. Once again in 1967, the Sox led the league in RA/G, ERA, WHIP, and ERA+, but the team’s poor attack doomed it to a heartbreaking fourth-place finish.

The Sox’ six-year run of AL-leading RA/G came to a close in 1968—Chicago’s 3.25 RA/G ranked fifth in the 10-team league. From the perspective of White Sox fans, the 1968 season (in which the club finished 67–95) is more noteworthy for what might have been. AL MVP and Cy Young Award winner Denny McLain had once been White Sox property. Chicago had drafted the flamboyant Illinois native out of high school, but after one year in the Sox minor league system, McLain was left unprotected and was claimed by the Tigers. 13

In 1969, the White Sox’ pitching was mediocre. Their RA/G, ERA, WHIP, and ERA+ all fell to worse than league average. The starting corps still included Horlen, Peters, and John, who combined for 100 starts, but only John reached his previous level. Wood was a strong contributor from the bullpen, but Locker was not. Wilhelm had been left unprotected in the off-season expansion draft and chosen by the Kansas City Royals. In hopes of bolstering the team’s rotation, the Sox dealt Locker to the Seattle Pilots in June for Gary Bell, who as a member of the Red Sox the year before had earned a place on the AL All-Star team. Unfortunately, Bell had lost his fastball 14 and was soon finished.

Joe Horlen, known early in his career by his formal name Joel, finished second in the 1967 AL Cy Young voting after leading the league in ERA and shutouts and firing a no-hitter.

Sadly for Sox fans, mediocrity would have been a pleasant alternative to the reality of the 1970 White Sox staff, the worst in the AL by all measures. The 1960s had passed, and gone too was Chicago’s standing as a dominant AL pitching staff.

Any enthusiasm for the gaudy stats piled up by White Sox pitchers in the 1960s must be tempered by consideration of park effects. Comiskey Park (known as White Sox Park from 1962–1975) was always a renowned haven for pitchers, even when the outfield fence was moved in. 15, 16

The extent to which Comiskey Park influenced run production in the mid-1960s can be seen in the White Sox’ home and road batting splits from 1962–1967 (Table 2), 17 a span in which the Sox scored runs near the league average on the road but not at home. The Sox scored more on the road than at home in all seasons but 1963; for the six years, their road scoring was nearly half a run per game (R/G) higher.

Meanwhile, the other nine AL teams combined for 0.2 R/G more at home, an indication that Comiskey was an extreme run-suppressing environment. The Sox certainly showed diminished power at home; their home slugging percentage (SLG) lagged behind their road SLG and the league norm, while their on-base percentage (OBP) was similar at home and away and similar to other teams’ road OBP.

If Comiskey Park negatively impacted the Sox’ run production, it also must have affected the opponents’ ability to score, thus distorting the Sox’ pitching statistics in the process. Traditional pitching statistics tallied at Comiskey Park demand proper context. One way to adjust for park effects on pitching is through adjusted statistics, such as ERA+ in place of ERA. Another way is limiting one’s analysis to performance in road games. The advantage of focusing on road splits is that the analysis can be applied to any pitching statistic, not just ERA, while a downside is that half a team’s performance is ignored. In addition, when comparing two teams’ road efforts, the park effects are actually reversed, albeit in a strongly dampened way. For example, during the 10-team era of the 1960s, Sox opponents each played one-ninth of their road games at pitcher-friendly Comiskey Park, while the Sox played all their road games elsewhere.

Table 3 18 shows road splits for three statistics (RA, ERA, and WHIP) for AL teams from 1962 through 1967. The road White Sox outpitched the road Yankees in two of New York’s league championship seasons (1962 and 1963) and put up very similar road pitching numbers in the Yankees’ other pennant season (1964), but these early 1960s Bronx teams of Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, and Elston Howard relied more on bats than pitching to win. Whether the Sox had the best road pitching performance in any of these years is another matter. In 1962, the White Sox, Tigers, Twins, and Angels produced similarly strong road pitching numbers. The White Sox can lay claim to having had the best road pitching in the AL in 1963, as evidenced by league leading RA, ERA, and WHIP in road games. In 1964, the three teams that vied for the pennant also had the best road pitching splits.

A different team won the AL championship in 1965, 1966, and 1967. In 1965, the AL champion Minnesota Twins had the best road WHIP and second-best road RA/G and ERA. The Twins’ road splits are almost indistinguishable from those of the Baltimore Orioles, but both teams clearly outperformed the White Sox’ pitchers on the road. In 1966, the Sox’ road pitching splits were better than those of the pennant-winning Orioles, albeit narrowly, but other than WHIP, the Sox road pitching splits were not especially close to those of the league-leading Twins. In 1967, the White Sox’ road splits for RA/G and ERA were only narrowly second-best to those of the pennant-winning Boston Red Sox, while the White Sox’ road WHIP was the AL’s fourth best.

Adjustment for park effects can reveal traditional statistics misrepresenting a team’s standing among its competitors. By analysis of road splits, the Sox’ pitching staff was shoulder-to-shoulder with the league’s best from 1962–1964, slipped noticeably in 1965, and hovered near second-best in 1966–1967.

This provides strong evidence that Comiskey Park’s vast dimensions likely contributed to Chicago’s run of league leading RA/G, not surprising given the inequity in the Sox’ own home/road batting splits during the same period.

ERA+ paints a similar picture. The Sox topped the AL in this stat in four of the six seasons in the 1960s in which they led the AL in RA/G (1963, 1964, 1966, and 1967).

Comiskey Park exaggerates how good the Sox’ pitching was, but cannot be accused of telling an outright lie. Playing in a pitcher-friendly home park contributed to the Sox’ ability to keep their opponents from scoring runs, with 1965 as the clearest example of how an extreme pitchers’ park distorts traditional statistics. Even after park adjustment, though, there is no denying that the White Sox mid-1960s pitching was consistently strong. The moundsmen simply had the misfortune of being paired with a batting attack that never rose above the AL’s midrange. The White Sox simply could not duplicate the unlikely recipe for success in 1959—ordinary offense coupled with extraordinary pitching—during the 1960s.

The spectacular career of ageless knuckleballer Hoyt Wilhelm included six years (1963–68) with the White Sox.

Notes

1. Season and game statistics are from tabled values in http://www.baseball-reference.com/ and http://www.retrosheet.org/, accessed various dates November 15, 2014 through January 3, 2015.

2. RA/G, ERA, WHIP and ERA+ per tabled values in http://www.baseball-reference.com/, league splits pages.

3. ERA+ = 100*[lgERA/ERA] adjusted to ballpark.

4. John Gabcik, SABR Baseball Biography Project, John Buzhardt, http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/bd9d9a78, accessed November 29, 2014.

5. Gregory H. Wolf, SABR Baseball Biography Project, Joe Horlen, http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/968eb078, accessed November 29, 2014.

6. Mark Armour, SABR Baseball Biography Project, Gary Peters, http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/28c24b41, accessed November 29, 2014.

7. Mark Armour, SABR Baseball Biography Project, Hoyt Wilhelm, http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/635428bb, accessed November 29, 2014.

8. Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia, Bruce Howard (baseball), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bruce_Howard_(baseball), accessed December 30, 2014.

9. Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia, Bob Locker, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bob_Locker, accessed December 30, 2014.

10. John Gabcik, SABR Baseball Biography Project, John Buzhardt, http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/bd9d9a78, accessed November 29, 2014.

11. Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia, Juan Pizarro (baseball), http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juan_Pizarro_(baseball), accessed December 10, 2014.

12. John Gabcik, SABR Baseball Biography Project, John Buzhardt, http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/bd9d9a78, accessed November 29, 2014.

13. Mark Armour, SABR Baseball Biography Project, Denny McLain, http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/6bddedd4, accessed December 10, 2014.

14. Cecilia Tan, SABR Baseball Biography Project, Gary Bell, http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/33810d5c, accessed January 2, 2015.

15. Comiskey Park historical analysis, http://www.baseball-almanac.com/stadium/stadiumi.shtml, accessed December 10, 2014.

16. Curt Smith, SABR Baseball Biography Project, Comiskey Park (Chicago), http://sabr.org/bioproj/park/e584db9f, accessed December 10, 2014.

17. White Sox batting splits are from tabled values in http://www.baseball-reference.com/, team batting splits pages; batting splits for the set of other AL teams are calculated from tabled values in http://www.baseball-reference.com/, league batting splits pages and White Sox team batting splits; six-year averages are not weighted by unequal year-to-year values in plate appearances, at bats, and games played.

18. RA/G values are calculated from tabled RA values in http://www.baseball-reference.com/, team pitching splits pages; ERA and WHIP are per tabled values in http://www.baseball-reference.com/, team pitching splits pages.

The ‘67 White Sox: “Hitless” Destiny’s Grandchild?

Bryan Soderholm-Difatte

The 1967 American League race holds the distinction of being The Last Great Pennant Race in major league baseball’s 1901–1968 long-time structure of two leagues with just one pennant race each. During this crazy campaign, four junior circuit teams went into the final weekend of the season with a shot at going to the World Series.

Each team had a fascinating story line. The “Cinderella”/“Impossible Dream” Boston Red Sox, who had finished ninth the year before, ended up winning, but perhaps the most interesting story was that of the Chicago White Sox, whose offensive deficiencies paralleled those of their “hitless wonders” namesake from some sixty years earlier.

If such a thing exists as certain teams having a unique Cosmic Destiny—the Yankees as the Bronx Bombers, the Red Sox under the long-time “Curse of the Bambino,” or the Chicago Cubs as lovable, Billy-goat cursed losers ever since World War II—then perhaps that of those White Sox teams was that of Hitless in Chicago.

The Original Hitless Wonders

Although they won only a single pennant—in 1906—the Chicago White Sox between 1904 and 1908 had the best five-year record in the American League. Their .591 winning average, equal to a 91–63 record over a single 154-game season, would have put them five games ahead of the Cleveland Indians (then known as the Naps, after their star second baseman, Napoleon Lajoie) and six ahead of the Philadelphia Athletics, whose winning percentages were the second and third highest during that time. Moreover, Chicago’s overall record from 1904 to 1908 was the best of any American League team in the first decade of the twentieth century, one game better than the 1901–1905 Boston Red Sox (two pennants), two better than the 1906–1910 Detroit Tigers (three pennants) and three up on the 1901–1905 Athletics (two pennants).

Unlike each of those teams, the White Sox were competitive every year, never finishing worse than third. But their offense was an enduring weakness, and indeed their teams of the era would be lost to history were it not for their stunning triumph over the heavily- favored Chicago Cubs in the 1906 World Series.

The 1906 team is remembered in history as the “Hitless Wonders” for becoming World Series champions despite hitting only seven home runs all year and compiling the worst batting average in the American League and the second-worst of all sixteen major league teams.[i] Pitching was the foundation to their success. With a staff anchored by Ed Walsh and including Doc White, Frank Smith, Frank Owen, and Nick Altrock, the White Sox were the American League’s stingiest team in giving up runs three years straight from 1905 to 1907, and were second in fewest runs allowed in 1904 and 1908. The White Sox had not only the highest fielding percentage in the league, but by far the best defensive efficiency ratio of making outs on balls hit into play, which was particularly important when strikeouts accounted for only 14 percent of their outs. But it wasn’t all about the excellent pitching and fielding.

If one takes account only of hits and batting average, then indeed “hitless wonders” is an appropriate appellation for Chicago’s White Sox of those years. But it was also misleading, because this was a team—low batting average aside—that could score runs. In 1904, the White Sox were third in scoring despite the fourth-worst batting average in the league, and the next year they had the fourth-lowest average again at .237, but were the league’s second-most prolific team in runs, enabling them to finish second, two games behind the Athletics. The Hitless Wonders of 1906 ranked third in runs despite a .230 average, 19 points below the league average. Their home field at South Side Park had less impact in depressing their offensive output at home, compared to games on the road, than on their pitching staff, which was not nearly as effective in other teams’ ballparks.ii

It is worth noting that in their championship season of 1906, the White Sox—”Hitless Wonders” though they may have been—still managed to win 21 games by five runs or more. Only three other American League teams had more “blowouts” victories that year. The White Sox were fifth in the league in being shut out, 16 times, meaning they were not quite helpless. While their reputation for being lightweights at the plate might have been deserved, it cannot be said that the 1906 Chicago White Sox couldn’t score runs.

“Big Ed” Walsh was the White Sox’ best pitcher from 1906 through 1912.

Explaining The Wonders’ Scoring Proficiency

The secret to Chicago’s success was a very efficient offense. The White Sox averaged fewer than 7.5 hits per game from 1905 through 1908. Yet Chicago’s ratio of one run scored for every two hits over that period is far better than the 2.2 hits for each run scored by AL teams as a whole. More significantly, however, it was also better than the 2.13 hits per run compiled, collectively, by the seven other pennant contenders during those years (the 1905 pennant-winning Athletics; second-place New York and third-place Cleveland in 1906; the 1907 and 1908 pennant-winning Tigers; and 1907 second-place Philadelphia and 1908 second-place Cleveland). For a team that averaged 1.2 fewer hits than the 8.7 hits-per-game average of their seven pennant-race rivals, the White Sox scored 90 percent as many runs on 86 percent as many hits. Or to put it another way (only to emphasize the point), they needed four percent fewer hits per run than their top rivals.

Even for the Dead Ball Era, the White Sox’ “attack” was much more anemic than that of their primary competitors. They were not so much “hitless wonders” as “punchless wonders.” In 1906, only the St. Louis Browns, who finished fifth in the standings, had a smaller percentage of their hits go for extra bases than the Hitless Wonders, and the White Sox were last in extra-base percentage each of the next two years.

Extra-base hits have a huge impact because they both set up and score more runs. Consequently, even for the era, the White Sox needed to be extraordinarily proficient both in creating scoring opportunities and getting the timely hit. They were helped by being disciplined at the plate; Chicago was the only American League team to draw more than 400 walks in 1906, 1907, and again in 1908. And they excelled in advancing the relatively fewer runners they put on base. Chicago led the league in sacrifice bunts every year from 1904 to 1907. (Although officially second in sacrifice hits in 1908, the White Sox probably led the league in sacrifice bunts that year too; that year, sacrifice flies were added to the total for sacrifice hits, and Cleveland—overall league leader—had a much better offense and probably had far more sacrifice flies.) The White Sox never led the league in stolen bases during 1905–1908, but their average of 198.5 steals in those four years trailed only New York and Washington and was 13 percent better than the league average. The statistical data available for these years do not allow for an assessment of “productive outs” that advance base runners, but it seems quite likely this too was a strength of the White Sox’ otherwise famously “hitless” offense. The White Sox’ strikeout ratio, while better than the league average, was not as good as that of either Cleveland or Detroit during these years.

Before long, however, the White Sox had a far more formidable offense. Two of baseball’s elite hitters, Eddie Collins and Shoeless Joe Jackson, helped the White Sox to be consistently at or near the top of the league in runs, batting average, and slugging percentage between 1916 and 1920—the tarnished golden era in Chicago White Sox history—during which they finished second, two games shy in 1916; won the 1917 World Series; tanked the following year on account of key players serving in defense industries during World War I; won the 1919 American League pennant, only to have eight of their players conspire to lose the World Series; and might have won the 1920 pennant as well had not the Black Sox scandal broken with just days left in the season. They also played Dead Ball Era baseball as well as any team, usually being among the league-leading teams in stolen bases and sacrifices. And Chicago had exceptional pitching too.

From The Black Sox To The Go-Go Sox

The “hitless wonders” theme could also be applied to the 1959 White Sox, whose pennant ended 40 years of wandering in the wilderness, perhaps an allegorical penance for the Black Sox scandal. After three decades in the doldrums, the Sox under General Manager Frank Lane and manager Paul Richards in the early 1950s began to build a team around the core principles of pitching, fielding, and speed. Taking advantage of the all-around talent and hustle of Cuban import Minnie Minoso, who arrived via trade in 1951, the White Sox became the most aggressive team in baseball, so much so that the fans at Comiskey Park urged, “Go! Go!” whenever one of their faster players reached base. While Minoso was traded away by 1959, Chicago now had Luis Aparicio, a superb defensive shortstop and speedster on the bases, to carry on the “Go-Go” tradition. Having already led the league in steals since breaking in as Rookie of the Year in 1956, Aparicio broke out with 56 stolen bases in 1959—the most in the majors since George Case had swiped 61 in 1943. iii

Notwithstanding their speed and aggressiveness, the 1959 White Sox were offensively challenged. Their .250 team batting average was only sixth in the eight-team AL and only two teams in the league scored fewer runs. With only a quarter of Chicago’s 669 runs scoring on the strength of a home run—far below the American League average of 32 percent—the Sox relied on small ball strategies. They were by far the most proficient team in the major leagues in advancing base runners on outs,iv and for the ninth straight year the White Sox led the league in steals. Unlike the 1906 Hitless Wonders, the disparity in their offensive statistics between home—Comiskey Park favored pitching—and away was not as great.[v]

The White Sox, however, were not as efficient in scoring runs in “dead ball” fashion as their “Go-Go” legend might suggest. Unable to rely on power, they needed more than three base runners (including hits, walks, hit batters, and reached on error) for every run scored, whereas the league average was just under three. And while Aparicio’s 81 percent stolen base success rate was impressive, his Chicago teammates—who combined for 57 steals, one more than Aparicio alone—failed 41 percent of the time, costing the White Sox 40 base runners. Moreover, the theoretically ideal scenario of the speedy Aparicio leading off and Nellie Fox, a master at putting the ball in play, batting behind him did not yield the scoring dividends that might be expected, because Aparicio was not proficient at getting on base. His .316 OBA in 1959, for example, rated below the league average on-base average of .340 for leadoff batters.vi

Prelude To 1967

The White Sox sagged a bit after their 1959 pennant before re-emerging as a contender, pulling up second in 1963, 1964, and 1965. This run came during a pitchers’ era that would rival that of dead ball times. The 3.57 earned run average of American League pitchers between 1963 and 1965 was appreciably lower than the 3.96 ERA from 1960 to 1962. With southpaws Gary Peters and Juan Pizarro, right-hander Joe Horlen, and virtually unhittable knuckleball relief ace Hoyt Wilhelm, Chicago had the best pitching staff in the league, giving up the fewest runs every year from 1963 to 1967.

Offense continued to be a problem on the south side, this time because the White Sox were inefficient in scoring runs rather than just being a poor-hitting team, at least as far as batting average.

Shortstop Luis Aparicio was the leadoff man for the “Go-Go” Sox of the late 1950s and early 1960s.

In contrast to the Hitless Wonder years of 1904–08 and the Go-Go year of 1959, Chicago’s team batting averages were fifth, sixth, and fourth in the now-ten-team league from 1963 to 1965, and their .248 average for the three years combined outranked the league average of .245. Consistent with their team batting averages, the Sox were fourth, seventh, and fifth in runs. But they had difficulty taking advantage of potential scoring opportunities; they not only required eight percent more hits per run than their principal rivals for the pennant (New York and Minnesota in 1963, New York and Baltimore in 1964, and Minnesota and Baltimore in 1965), they were worse than the league average in both 1964 and 1965. And the White Sox did worse than the league average each year in scoring total base runners (reaching on hits, walks, and hit by pitch), including by five percent in 1964 when they lost the pennant by one game. The 1964 American League champion Yankees had a base runners-per-run ratio 12 percent better than Chicago’s.

That the White Sox were not more productive in scoring runs is mostly attributable to their relative lack of power and timely hitting. Chicago’s extra base hits as a percentage of total hits—26 percent in 1963, 24 percent in 1964, and 27 percent in 1965—was below the league norm of 29 percent each year. Ranking last in the AL in doubles and next-to-last in homers in 1964 likely cost the Sox the pennant. White Sox power was limited to Pete Ward and Ron Hansen, who hit 23 and 20 home runs, while nobody else had more than 13. The Yankees were also below the league average in extra base hits, but were better than Chicago in extra-base hits with runners on base and hitting with runners in scoring position.vii

Chicago’s inability to hit for power meant that both more hits and more runners were required to produce a run. Leading the league with the most walks and the fewest strikeouts, the 1964 White Sox were proficient in advancing base runners. They led the league in sacrifices, hit into the fewest double plays, and had the league’s highest percentage of productive outs to advance any runner with no outs, score a base runner with the second out of the inning, or have a pitcher successfully sacrifice bunt with one out.

The 1964 White Sox were also the most aggressive in advancing base runners on fly ball outs, passed balls, wild pitches, and balks, doing so 191 times compared to the league average of 139.viii These building blocks to scoring runs, however, are not as efficient as having the capability to clear the bases with extra-base hits.

The White Sox dealt for veteran third baseman Ken Boyer in mid-1967 to try and bolster their attack.

1967

The “hitless wonders” parallel for Chicago White Sox baseball applies best to the 1967 team. Their .225 batting average was the second-worst in major league baseball, eleven percentage points below the league average. They had the fewest hits of all teams in the majors and scored the second-fewest runs in the American League. Yet, in one of baseball’s best pennant races, the 1967 White Sox held first place without interruption for more than two months from June 11 to August 12—leading by 5½ games at one point—before finding themselves in a fierce four-team race with Boston, Minnesota, and Detroit down the stretch. On September 6, the four teams were, for all intents and purposes, tied for first. ix

The White Sox’ prospects seemed excellent at the start of play on Wednesday, September 27. They were in second, only a game behind the Twins, .001 ahead of the Red Sox, and the Tigers 1½ out in fourth. Best of all, Chicago’s five remaining games were against last-place Kansas City and eighth-place Washington, while their top competitors were all playing tougher teams; Boston and Minnesota had two games against each other on the final weekend.

Two days later, t he four teams were still separated by only a game-and-a-half going into the final weekend—beginning Friday, September 29—each with a chance to go to the World Series:

- Minnesota (91-69) was in the best position, one game up on both Boston and Detroit with two to play at Fenway Park on Saturday and Sunday. If they won both games, the only team that could possibly tie them would be Detroit, and the Tigers would have to win all four of their remaining games against the California Angels, which ended up as back-to-back doubleheaders on Saturday and Sunday because of a Friday rainout.

- In an ironic counterpoint to 1949—when the Yankees had to win both weekend games in their home stadium to beat out the Red Sox for the pennant—Boston (90-70) was in the same position—having to win both games at Fenway to finish ahead of the Twins. To avoid a playoff, they had to count on the Tigers doing no better than splitting their final four games and for the White Sox to lose at least one of their last three games.

- Detroit (89-69) could win the pennant outright only by taking all four of their remaining games and Minnesota splitting its weekend series in Boston. A Twins sweep at Fenway, on the other hand, would require the Tigers to win all four of games just to tie for first and force a playoff. If the Twins won one or the Red Sox won both games, the Tigers would need at least three wins to force a playoff.

- Having been stunned by last-place Kansas City sweeping them in a September 27 doubleheader, 5-2 and 4-0, beating Chicago’s two best pitchers, Peters and Horlen, the White Sox (89-70) faced the biggest challenge going into the final weekend. With Minnesota and Boston also both losing that day, it would have been the White Sox in first place by half a game had they swept the doubleheader. Now, however, they needed to win all three of their remaining games, and for   the Red Sox to sweep the Twins,  and  for the Tigers to win no more than three of four—and that would only give them a tie for first with Boston and maybe also Detroit, if the Tigers  did indeed win three of four.

As it happened, no playoff was needed. The demoralized White Sox were shut out 1-0 by the Senators on Friday, eliminating them from contention. The Tigers split both doubleheaders while the Red Sox swept the Twins to end a 20-year pennant drought.

Slugger Rocky Colavito was just about done when the White Sox acquired him in mid-1967.

Chicago’s difficulty in scoring runs caught up with them at the worst possible time. They scored only five runs in their final five and were shut out three consecutive games—in the second of their losses to the Athletics and their first two games against the Senators. Chicago ended up three games behind Boston.

It was predictable, however, that with by far the weakest lineup of the contenders, the White Sox would not be able to pull out the pennant, even with the league’s best pitching and fielding. It says something about their resilience that they remained in the race until the final weekend.[x] Only ninth-place New York scored fewer runs—just nine fewer—than Chicago’s 531 in 1967, and only Washington had a lower team batting average than Chicago’s .225 in a league that hit .236.

While Chicago’s 1906 Hitless Wonders were better than league average in runs-to-hits ratio, the 1967 White Sox were seven percent worse than the league average in that important indicator of offensive efficiency. Posting a 16–14 record in the season’s final month, the Sox had just a .214 batting average, had an awful on-base average of .276, and had just 47 of their 218 total hits go for extra bases…that doesn’t even average two extra-base hits per game.

While the White Sox hit eight percent below the league-wide batting average for September, their pennant-race rivals all hit much better than the league average for the month—the Twins by seven percent, the Tigers by nine, and the Red Sox by 10. Only two teams had a worse batting average and on-base average in the final month than the White Sox, neither of them in the pennant race, and no AL team had a lower percentage of extra-base hits.

While Chicago’s pitchers had a superb 2.17 ERA—by far the best in the league—in September, and allowed fewer than one base runner per inning after September 1, a team still needs to score runs. Chicago scored two or fewer runs in 12 of their final 30 games, during which they averaged 7.3 hits per game compared to 8.5 per game by their three pennant rivals.

Hitless Wonders Times Two?

Just as the 1904–08 White Sox had the best record in the American League over that five-year span, but with only a single pennant (and a shocking World Series championship) to show for it, so too did the franchise have the AL’s best record from 1963 to 1967—except without a single pennant. Applying their five-year winning percentages from 1963 to 1967 to a single 162-game season, the White Sox would have finished one game ahead of the Twins and two ahead of the Baltimore Orioles, both of whom won only a single pennant and had a losing season in the mix.xi And just like the 1904–08 White Sox, Chicago’s 1963–67 teams had a historically weak offense for a contender.

The White Sox, however, played in Comiskey Park, the AL’s most difficult park for hitters during the 1960s. They had a more potent offense on the road in 1967, scoring 288 runs away compared to 243 at home. They had a.241 batting average on the road and an amazing .208 at Comiskey and had 25 percent more total bases, 960, on the road compared to only 765—the fewest of any American League team playing at home—in Chicago.

Despite their better statistical numbers, however, the weakness of the White Sox’ offense was still apparent on the road. They were only a .500 club away from Chicago at 40–40 (compared to 49–33 in Comiskey Park), and were far less efficient in their ratio of hits to runs, needing 2.3 hits for each run scored in other teams’ parks compared to 2.25 at home. (Both figures were substantially worse than the average for all ten American League teams. Big park or not, this offense was just not good.)xii

Just as the White Sox hit better on the road, the Red Sox and Twins, both teams whose lineups were suited to their hitter-friendly home stadia of Fenway Park and Metropolitan Stadium, did not hit nearly as well and scored many fewer runs away from Boston and Minnesota. In fact, the White Sox’ 1967 OPS (.650) on the road was better than that of the Twins (.641), taking into account that the Twins’ total includes some games at Comiskey. Both Minnesota and Boston, because of their more potent line-ups, were more efficient in hits-to-runs ratio than the league average.

Unlike their “hitless wonder” Chicago ancestors from half-a-century before, the 1963–67 White Sox did not have an efficient offense. In contrast to the 1904–08 White Sox, whose ratio of runs-to-hits was substantially better than the league average, from 1964 to 1967 the White Sox required significantly more hits per run than the league average even though their team batting average was above the league average in the first two of those seasons.xiii And unlike half-a-century before, when the White Sox had a better runs-to-hits ratio than most of their pennant-race contenders, all the other teams competing for the American League pennant between 1963 and 1967 had a much better such ratio than did the White Sox.

As were their early predecessors in Chicago, the mid-60s White Sox were hobbled by their lack of extra-base clout. Extra-base hits accounted for 26 percent of Chicago’s total hits between 1963 and 1967, far below the league average of 29 percent, and all the other contending teams except the 1964 Yankees had at least 30 percent of their hits go for more than one base. Lacking a potent offense, the mid-1960s White Sox gave relatively greater emphasis than other teams to small-ball. They led the league in sacrifices twice those five years, and they were among the top three teams in steals three times, leading the league once.

Perhaps, however, because even mediocre teams had 30-homer sluggers in the 1960s, reliance on such strategies could not compensate for a lack of big hits. A more damaging lineup probably would not have been sufficient for the White Sox to overtake the Yankees in 1963 or the Twins in 1965 because those teams dominated the league, and in 1966 they finished fourth and were never in the race, but almost certainly would have given Chicago pennants in 1964 and 1967.

A DIFFERENT SOX CODA TO THE 1967 PENNANT RACE

As Philadelphia Phillies’ manager Gene Mauch had done with Jim Bunning and Chris Short during his team’s epic collapse in the last twelve games in the 1964 National League pennant race, Boston manager Dick Williams relied primarily on Jim Lonborg and Gary Bell as his principal starters down the stretch in 1967.

Lonborg and Bell started half of Boston’s final 28 games. Lonborg, his best pitcher, was pitching consistently every fourth day, but with three games left on Boston’s schedule on September 27, Williams worked him on two days of rest, at home, against eighth-place Cleveland. The Red Sox trailed the Twins by one game but with two off-days before the final series with Minnesota, Williams probably felt it was a necessary gamble to ensure his ace pitched twice in the last five days of the season.

Had Lonborg not started against the Indians, he would have pitched on Saturday game against the Twins, six days removed from his previous start because of the two days off. Pitching against Cleveland on two days of rest left Lonborg available to start against Minnesota on Sunday—the season finale—with his typical three days of rest. And Williams helped set up Lonborg’s start on short rest by removing him in the seventh inning of his previous start, September 24, when Boston held a 7–0 lead.

As it turned out, Lonborg lost on short rest to the Indians, lasting only three innings, but pitched a complete game 5–3 victory over the Twins on the final day of the season to send Boston to the World Series—where they (and he, in Game 7) ran into Bob Gibson.

i The National League’s last-place Boston Braves (then still known as the Beaneaters) hit .226 as a team with sixteen home runs on their way to a 49–102 record.

ii From 1904 to 1908 the offensive-challenged White Sox scored marginally more runs at home than away, despite many opposing parks being more favorable to hitters, while their pitchers in those other parks gave up 30 percent more runs. In1906 they gave up more than half as many runs on the road as at home—280 to 180.

iii Case’s 61 steals came during World War II, when the power game was drastically effected by baseballs made less lively because rubber—a strategic material—could no longer used for their core. (Robert Weintraub, The Victory Season: The End of World War II and the Birth of Baseball’s Golden Age, NY: Back Bay Books, 13.) Stolen bases from 1943–1945 were four percent higher than in the three years before World War II, which significantly impacted the game, and 18 percent in the three years after the return to peacetime. If Case’s 1943 season is discounted because of the “dead ball”’s emphasis on the running game, Aparicio’s 56 steals in 1959 were the most since Ben Chapman stole 61 in 1931.

iv For the specific data see “Team & League PH/HR/Situation Hitting” under the “Batting” tab for the American League in 1959 on the website, www.baseball-reference.com.

v The 1959 White Sox scored 313 runs at home while batting .254 with 932 total bases for a .367 slugging percentage, compared to 356 runs on the road with a .247 batting average, and 996 total bases but a lower .361 slugging percentage in away games.

vi See “Batting Order Positions” under the “Batting Splits” tab for Luis Aparicio and the American League for 1959 on the website, www.baseball-reference.com.

vii For the specific data, see “Bases Occupied” under the “Batting Splits” tab for the White Sox, Yankees and American League for 1964 on the website, www.baseball-reference.com.

viii For the specific data, see “Team & League PH/HR/Situation Hitting” under the “Batting” tab for the American League in 1964.

ix Statistically, Minnesota and Chicago, each with a 78-61 (.561) record, were .001 percentage points ahead of Boston and Detroit at 79-62 (.560). Taking into account their remaining games, the standings showed them in a tie.

x The White Sox with a 2.45 earned run average were the only American League team with an ERA under 3.00, and their defensive efficiency ratio of making outs on 73 percent of the balls put into play against them was by far the best in the majors. The second-best ERA in the majors belonged to the San Francisco Giants at 2.92. The Defensive Efficiency statistic can be found under “Team & League Standard Fielding” on the “Team Statistics and Standings” page for each league for any given year on the website, www.baseball-reference.com.

xi The Yankees won both the 1963 and 1964 pennants, with the Twins winning in 1965 and the Orioles in 1966, before the Red Sox rose from ninth place in 1966 to be the “Impossible Dream” team of 1967. The Yankees fell off disastrously after their 1964 pennant with three consecutive losing seasons that would have put them in fifth place, seven games behind the White Sox, if their 1963–1967 winning percentages were projected to a single 162-game season.

xii AL teams averaged 2.13 hits per run for the season, 2.05 playing at home and 2.22 on the road. Only three teams had a worse hits-to-runs ratio on the season than Chicago’s overall 2.28 hits for each run—Cleveland, New York, and Kansas City who, coincidentally, finished eighth, ninth, and tenth on the season.

xiii The White Sox runs-to-hits ratio was better than the league average in 1963.

The Chicago White Sox, 1968–70: Three Years In Hell

Sam Pathy

Between 1951 and 1966, the Chicago White Sox outdrew the Chicago Cubs by a wide margin: 18,966,405 fans to 12,636,867. The White Sox proved the picture of on-field consistency during this period, never finishing below a .500 winning percentage. The Cubs proved nearly as consistent during these 16 years: only once did they finish above .500. The winning White Sox held an enviable position, one that would seemingly continue far into the future. In 1966 the White Sox drew 990,000 fans, while the last-place Cubs drew 636,000.

In 1967, the White Sox battled the Boston Red Sox, Detroit Tigers, and Minnesota Twins for the American League pennant. The South Siders led a close race for more than two and a half months; the four teams were tied for first in early September. The White Sox spent the final weeks with a good chance to win. But the Red Sox eventually took the flag; the White Sox finished three games out.

Chicago fans did not support the team as expected during the pennant stretch. For example, only 60,050 fans attended a pivotal three-day, four-game weekend series against Detroit from September 8–10. Only 4,314 fans saw the White Sox beat Cleveland on September 14. Chicago Tribune sportswriter Edward Prell stated what many were thinking: “In their moment of triumph, the White Sox have cause to wonder what’s happened to their fans.” 1 In fact, even though the White Sox nearly won the pennant, their attendance dropped in 1967.

In the view of many, including sportswriter Jerome Holtzman, the White Sox’s historical reliance on pitching and strong fielding to win ballgames had become “dull.” 2 He wrote that “fans want to see action. They get weary of watching ground balls and strikeouts.” 3 To add excitement to their games, Holtzman suggested that the White Sox shorten the dimensions at Comiskey Park, which in 1967 was the worst hitting environment in the American League.

The White Sox’ negative image contrasted with the sudden resurgence of the long-moribund Chicago Cubs, who finished third in 1967 with a muscular showcase of future Hall of Famers including Ernie Banks, Billy Williams, and Ron Santo. Consequently, the White Sox’ 355,000 attendance margin over the Cubs in 1966 dwindled to just 8,000 in 1967. Something big was happening to Chicago baseball and it was happening quickly.

Prior to the 1968 season, the White Sox agreed to play nine regular-season games in Milwaukee. Arthur Allyn (public face of the Artnell Corporation, which owned the team) had obviously noticed that 51,144 fans watched his team and the Twins play an exhibition at County Stadium on July 24, 1967. Allyn denied that the gambit was a precursor to the White Sox moving to Milwaukee, a city which had lost the Braves to Atlanta just two years earlier. 4 Perhaps most important to Allyn was the potential to plug extra income into his stalled franchise.

On April 10, 1968, the White Sox lost their home opener, 9–0. What was worse was that only 7,756 bothered to show up. The game came less than a week after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., and subsequent riots accelerated the growing fear that Comiskey Park, and its Bridgeport neighborhood, were dangerous to visit (even though the closest riots to the park happened more than five miles away). 5 In the last decade, white flight had affected the Canaryville and Back of the Yards neighborhoods near the park, as the Union Stockyards all but closed down, eliminating decent jobs. African-American families began moving into these neighborhoods when the housing covenants that had previously restricted them to the “blackbelt” area just east of the ballpark were made illegal.

Shortly after the 1968 opener, Bill Gleason of the Chicago Sun-Times wrote this: “[the White Sox] have to go to work now to persuade the sports-buying public of the Chicago area that Comiskey Park is attractively located. They must roll up their sleeves and fight the ‘bad neighborhood’ slander.… Those who say the neighborhood is ‘bad’ are suffering from vision distorted by racism or fear.” 6 Gleason added that “Allyn and [General Manager Ed] Short should get out into the neighborhoods where their customers are, stand on the corners, visit the taverns, shake a few hands, and ask fans why they are staying home.” 7

Unfortunately, it turned out to be good advice. The 1968 White Sox, who finished eighth in the ten-team American League, drew only 538,323 fans to 59 dates at Comiskey Park. In just nine dates at County Stadium in Milwaukee, they drew 265,552—nearly half their Chicago total. The Cubs, on the other hand, again finished third in the National League and drew 1,043,409 fans, nearly double the Sox’ home total.

White Sox management tried to rectify some important issues prior to the 1969 season. The club spent more than $100,000 to light Comiskey Park’s exterior and parking areas. 8 The White Sox played a heavy majority of night games, as opposed to the Cubs at lightless Wrigley Field, and if their fans needed night games to look like day games to feel safe, then the team was willing to spend money to do it.

Management also instituted changes to update the franchise and make the team more exciting. The club hired 15 “Soxettes,” mini-skirted female hostesses who directed fans to their seats. 9 At the new Dugout Restaurant beneath the Comiskey Park grandstand, fans could order gourmet sandwiches and cocktails and listen to the house band, the “Four Baggers.” 10 Perhaps most important, workmen installed wire fences deep in the outfield, shortening the foul lines by 17 feet and center field by 25 feet. 11

The White Sox also rocked the baseball world by installing a synthetic surface on Comiskey Park’s infield. The 11,163 fans at the 1969 home opener saw the first major league baseball game played outdoors on artificial turf; the Houston Astrodome was the only other ballpark with an artificial surface. 12 The team called it “White Sox turf,” 13 but the disconnect of having only the infield covered tempered the mod experience; the cash-strapped White Sox lacked the extra $300,000 to carpet the outfield. 14

Gary Peters fell to just 4–13 in 1968, but remained one of the team’s top bats off the bench.

The short porches (along with the lowering of the mound and shrinking of the strike zone) helped batters hit 65 more home runs at Comiskey Park in 1969. Moreover, teams scored 12% more runs at Comiskey Park than at the average major league park; from 1950 through 1968, games at Comiskey Park had 9% fewer runs scored than average. 15

The myriad of improvements didn’t help attendance, which dropped dangerously. For 59 home dates, the 1969 White Sox drew only 392,762 at Comiskey Park. They played 11 more dates in Milwaukee and attracted 196,784. Of course, it didn’t help that the South Siders lost 94 games. To illustrate how much the two Chicago teams’ fortunes had changed, the annual Boy’s Benefit exhibition game between the White Sox and the Cubs drew 33,333 at Comiskey Park—the largest paid crowd to see a game on the South Side that year.

To make things worse, the mid-July Back of the Yards Council Fun Fair, an annual South Side event where the White Sox usually ruled, invited the North Siders and drew 12,000 for a “We Love the Chicago Cubs Night.” A neighbor near the fair sounded the alarm, saying, “I never thought I’d see this area so keen about the Cubs.” 16 At the time of the fair, the Cubs led the National League’s Eastern Division and were dominating the minds of most casual Chicago sports fans. Later in the season, the Cubs suffered their legendary collapse, being caught and passed by the New York Mets, but still drew a Chicago record 1,674,993 fans in 1969.

A September 21, 1969, Chicago Today article by Dick Young seemed to verify long-suggested rumors; the article’s headline screamed, “Milwaukee to get Sox Soon.” 17 Three days later, however, the White Sox revealed they were staying in Chicago—with some changes. Art Allyn transferred the presidency of the White Sox to his brother, John. Art had soured on the direction of his franchise and grew tired of fending off rumors of the White Sox moving to Milwaukee, Dallas, or Toronto. For his part, John was adamant about keeping the team on the South Side and looking to better days.

Cubs third sacker Ron Santo hit 26 homers in 1968—more than the White Sox’ entire starting outfield.

But John Allyn understood the desperate challenge. The Chicago Today reported that “while he [John Allyn] insisted he doesn’t intend to continue operating in the red, he also pointed out he is prepared for a 1970 season that could be ‘the poorest we can envision—worse than this year.’” 18 There wasn’t much fight in the White Sox, but at least John Allyn would go down swinging.

As if on cue, the 1970 Sox lost a team-record 106 games. According to Vic Ziegel in Look magazine, “they lost the league’s most home games, road games, extra-inning games, one-run games, [and] doubleheaders, gave up the most home runs, [and] struck out the fewest batters.” 19 The White Sox drew just 495,000 fans, a higher rate than 1969 but a total that did not include games at Milwaukee, which now had its own club. Included in the morass were two September games that attracted only 672 and 693 diehards.

Few memorable events stand out in this mostly forgettable season. The best might have been the unveiling of a new “mascot.” The soon-to-be National League champion Cincinnati Reds earned the nickname, the “Big Red Machine.” The White Sox set their sights lower; several players jokingly rebuilt a 1929 Ford and painted it white and blue—the team’s new colors as of 1969—with letters on it reading, “The Big White Machine.” 20 The grounds crew drove the jalopy around the edge of the field after each precious victory. On the other side of town, the Cubs again drew more than 1,600,000 million fans. But by the end of another unfulfilled season, their “Cub Power” shtick wore thin; the Reds and Pirates had supplanted them as National League powerhouses, and their hoped-for World Series would slip away.

The White Sox cleaned house for 1971. They hired Chuck Tanner as manager, Roland Hemond as director of player personnel, and brought in new players such as Rick Reichardt and Tom Bradley to add to a core of youngsters that included Bill Melton, Carlos May, and Bart Johnson. They made an important score by hiring broadcaster Harry Caray, even though he was forced to warble on three weak-signaled suburban stations after the White Sox lost their contract with WMAQ after 1970. 21 The team even changed uniform colors. Gone were the powdery blues, replaced by pinstriped red and white. General Manager Stu Holcomb explained it best: “Red makes you look faster.” 22

April 9, 1971, proved to be a watershed in White Sox history; the fans came back to Comiskey Park. An opening day crowd of 43,253 saw the new White Sox beat Minnesota, 3–2. The attendance that day equaled 8% of the total 1970 attendance. The young, exciting team won 23 more games than it had in 1970 and drew 833,891 fans. The following year, another new acquisition, Dick Allen, enjoyed an MVP season that led the White Sox to a second-place finish. By 1974 the White Sox had again pulled in front of the Cubs in attendance, 1,149,596 to 1,015,378.

The 1968 season had ended the White Sox’ 16-year reign as kings of Chicago baseball. In the aftermath, they spent three years in a proverbial hell, marked by one of the worst seasons in team history, 1970. The die-hard fans began to return in 1971, buoyed by a young, exciting team with a new message and messengers. The casual fans returned, some surely turned off more by the Cubs’ inability to “win it all.”

But the South Side franchise would continue to struggle to find a permanent equal footing in Chicago. The team changed owners again during the decade and nearly moved to Seattle in 1975 and Tampa/St. Petersburg in 1988.

Today’s White Sox franchise still battles the erroneous “bad neighborhood” rap. Some would argue that U.S. Cellular Field and the Bridgeport neighborhood lack the charms that bring many fans to Wrigley Field. But the core Sox fans always seem to come back, and they cheered long and loud when the team claimed the 2005 World Series.

1. Edward Prell, “South Siders Whitewash Tigers, 6-0 and 4-0; Take Over 3d Place,” Chicago Tribune, September 11, 1967.

2. Jerome Holtzman, “Dear Arthur: Sox Owner Gets Memo,” Chicago Sun-Times, July 18, 1967.

3. Ibid.

4. Roy Damer, “Sox Slate 10 Games in Milwaukee,” Chicago Tribune, October 31, 1967.

5. “Darkened Areas Show Portions of City Hit By Rioting,” (map), Chicago Tribune, April 6, 1968.

6. Bill Gleason, “Sox off Base in Sale of Fun and Fresh Air,” Chicago Sun-Times, April 19, 1968.

7. Bill Gleason, “Future Bleak, But Sox Must Face It,” Chicago Sun-Times, April 18, 1968.

8. Richard Dozer, “White Sox Fans Will See That Changes Have Been Made,” Chicago Tribune, February 11, 1969.

9. David Condon, In the Wake of the News, Chicago Tribune, April, 16, 1969.

10. Ibid.

11. Dozer.

12. Edward Prell, “History Made in 1 st Duel on Artificial Grass Outside,” Chicago Tribune, April 17, 1969.

13. “Astroturf for the Infield, Billboards and Balloons,” Chicago Sun-Times, March 15, 1969.

14. Ibid.

15. Seymour Siwoff, Steve Hirdt, and Peter Hirdt, The 1988 Elias Baseball Analyst (New York: Collier Books, 1988), 34.

16. David Condon, In the Wake of the News, Chicago Tribune, July 17, 1969.

17. Dick Young, “Milwaukee to Get Sox Soon: Young,” Chicago Today, Sunday Final, September 21, 1969.

18. John Hillyer, “Only Sox Owner’s Name Same,” Chicago Today, 5 Star Final, September 26, 1969.

19. Vic Ziegel, “106 Ways to Make Money on the Worst Team in Baseball,” Look, April 20, 1971, p. 67.

20. Edgar Munzel, “Repoz Homer Helps Angels Top Sox,” Chicago Sun-Times, August 8, 1970.

21. George Langford, “White Sox Plan to Form Their Own Network,” Chicago Tribune, December 8, 1970.

22. Ziegel, p. 75.

Black Sox on Film

Rob Edelman

Eight Men Out and Field of Dreams are not the only films to feature the “Black Sox.”

Major League Baseball’s historian, John Thorn, posted this on Facebook in December 2014: “I did not know that as early as October 1920 a film about the Black Sox Scandal was in circulation.”

Indeed, an ad in the October 30, 1920, issue of Exhibitors Herald, a motion picture industry trade publication, advertises The Great Baseball Scandal, produced by the short-lived Celebrated Players Film Corporation and distributed by the equally obscure Federated Film Exchanges of America, Inc.

The ad, which encourages exhibitors to book the film, hypes it as “A Slow Motion Picture Expose” and “THE BIGGEST ONE REEL FEATURE EVER OFFERED.” While the Black Sox aren’t cited by name, the ad announces that the “speed camera used in photographing this picture shows the trickery of crooked baseball players in dishonoring America’s national pastime.” It also notes that the film was “EDITED BY THE WORLD’S GREATEST BASE BALL AUTHORITY” (who also is unnamed).

Regrettably, like too many films of the silent era, The Great Baseball Scandal is long-lost.

If Gil Hodges Managed the Cubs and Leo Durocher the Mets in 1969, Whose “Miracle” Would it Have Been?

Mort Zachter

In 1969, the New York Mets became the first 1960s-era expansion team to win a World Series. En route to that championship, after overcoming a 9½ game mid-August Chicago Cubs lead, Gil Hodges managed his “Miracle Mets” to the National League East title over Leo Durocher’s Cubs. In Chicago, that season has been called the “Miracle Collapse.” [i]

J.C. Martin, backup catcher for Hodges in 1968–69 and Durocher from 1970–72, inadvertently opened the door to revisionist history when he said, “Never once did I see Gil Hodges react in a way to cause panic. Never once! I don’t care what happened. We could pull the dumbest play in the world, but he’d never show panic. And he instilled that in his players…That was the big difference between the Mets and the Cubs. I found that out when I was traded to the Cubs just before the 1970 season. Leo was the type of manager to cause panic and confusion among his players…Gil would have won with the Cubs in ’69…the manager made the difference.” ii

Would the Cubs really have held on to win the Eastern Division had Hodges had been their manager? Analyzing their different managerial styles and how Hodges and Durocher utilized their rosters—especially in center field—shows that Martin may have a point.

One of the 1969 Cubs’ weak spots was in center field. Adolfo Phillips had filled the position from 1966–68. At first, Durocher had praised Phillips, a talented but sensitive player with power and speed. In 1967, his first full season in Chicago, Phillips played well, hitting 17 home runs and stealing 24 bases. His hitting, like that of many other players, slipped considerably in 1968, yet he was still an asset at a crucial position.

Already a legendary figure in New York before 1969, Gil Hodges guided the Mets from the depths to their first World Championship.

Phillips broke a bone in his right hand during spring training in 1969, however, and took more than a month to return. That was too long for Durocher, who publically embarrassed Phillips by saying, “He doesn’t want to play.” iii By May, Durocher had benched Phillips and made rookie Don Young his starting center fielder. Young had batted .242 in Class A the previous season. iv

In June, Durocher deemed Phillips expendable and the Cubs traded him. At the time, the Cubs were 37–17; after the trade, they were 55–53. [v] From a managerial perspective, a key turning point of the season was Durocher’s knee-jerk reaction to Phillips’ slow return from injury. Contrast this with the support Hodges showed his centerfielder, Tommie Agee.

In 1966, Agee clubbed 22 home runs, stole 44 bases, and won the American League Rookie of the Year award for the Chicago White Sox. But the following season he slumped and lost favor with his manager, Eddie Stanky. Hodges, an American League manager in 1966–67, had seen enough of Agee to know he was a gifted fielder. He felt he could handle Agee with a lighter touch than did Stanky, a disciple of Durocher who embarrassed Agee publicly.

“The first thing Hodges wanted to do when he became the manager was to acquire Tommie Agee,” Mets general manager Johnny Murphy said. “He wanted a guy to bat leadoff with speed [who] could hit for power. He also…needed a guy in center to run the ball down.” vi

On December 15, 1967, the Mets traded for the 25-year-old Agee. But in his first spring training at bat in March 1968, Bob Gibson beaned Agee with a high inside pitch. Gibson’s welcome-to-the-National-League pitch set the tone for Agee’s season; in the “Year of the Pitcher,” he hit .217 with only five home runs and 17 RBIs, striking out more than 100 times.

Hodges did everything he could to build Agee’s confidence. “He needs to relax a little,” Hodges told reporters, “He’s not alone. A number of other people around the league are in slumps, too.” vii Years later, Mets outfielder Cleon Jones said, “Gil… took Tommie under his wing.” viii While most players dreaded an invitation to the manager’s office, Agee felt comfortable enough with his new manager to discuss his personal problems. ix And despite Hodges’ tendency to use his coaches as a buffer, he knew which of his players, like Agee, needed his support.

“Gil and Agee got very close,” Maury Allen wrote. “Agee would go into his office, close the door, and spill his guts with Gil…[who] was always willing to listen.” [x] In 1969, despite an average below .200 in early May, Agee finished the season at .271 with 26 home runs and 76 RBI and made two great catches in the crucial third game of the World Series.

In early July 1969, the Mets won five in a row on the road and returned home to play three games against the Cubs. Four days later, the Mets traveled to Chicago to play another three-game set. “There’s no question about it,” Hodges said, “the two series with the Cubs are bigger than any others….We need to take two out of three each time.” xi

They did, and the games revealed much about Durocher’s and Hodges’ differing approaches.

The first game, an afternoon tilt on July 8 before 55,000 fans at Shea Stadium, had World Series intensity and set the tone for the balance of the season. Jerry Koosman started against Ferguson Jenkins.

The Cubs led 3–1 in the bottom of the ninth, with Jenkins having had allowed just one hit. Ken Boswell hit a ball to shallow center field. Don Young misjudged the ball, which fell in for a double. With one out, Hodges sent Donn Clendenon up to pinch-hit. Clendenon hit a drive to deep left center. Young ran a long distance and caught the ball, but dropped it after crashing into the outfield wall. Cleon Jones then tied the game with a two-run double. After a walk and a groundout, Ed Kranepool came up with two outs and runners on second and third. Rather than pass the hitter purposely to set up a force play at any base, Durocher had Jenkins go at him. Kranepool poked a soft liner over the shortstop’s head, giving the Mets a shocking come-from-behind victory.

The Cubs lost the game and their composure, starting with their manager. In the Cubs locker room after the game, in front of his players and the press, Durocher laced into Young. “It’s tough to win when your centerfielder can’t catch a fucking fly ball,” Durocher said. “Jenkins pitched his heart out. But when one man can’t catch a fly ball, it’s a disgrace. He stands there watching one, and then gives up on the other… My three-year-old could have caught those balls!” xii

Adolfo Phillips might have caught them as well. Had Hodges managed the Cubs, would he have treated Phillips with encouragement and been rewarded, as he was with Agee’s breakout season? And if Durocher had managed Agee after his disastrous 1968 season, would Durocher have prematurely buried him as he did Phillips?

Mets center fielder Tommie Agee benefitted from Gil Hodges’ empathy and counsel.

Durocher came up short in other areas as well. On Saturday, July 26, during the third game of a weekend series at Wrigley Field against the Dodgers, Durocher complained he was ill and left the park before the game was over. The next day, Durocher, purportedly ill, failed even to show up. But Durocher was not sick. He had left the game early on Saturday to fly with his new wife on a chartered plane to Wisconsin for visiting day at his 12-year-old stepson’s sleep-away camp. xiii Durocher, caught off guard by the firestorm after he returned, blamed the local media—whom he consistently antagonized—for picking on him. Hodges was generally friendly with the media, especially veteran reporters like Arthur Daley and Dick Young, although the younger writers didn’t always appreciate him.

Despite taking days off for himself, Durocher insisted on playing his key regulars without rest throughout the hot Chicago summer at a time when every home game was played in the afternoon. “If a man had a slight injury or was just plain-tired, Leo didn’t want to hear about it,” Ferguson Jenkins said. “He just rubbed a man’s nose in the dirt and sent him back out there. You played until you dropped.” xiv

That season, left fielder Billy Williams played 163 games; first baseman Ernie Banks 155; shortstop Don Kessinger 158; third baseman Ron Santo 160; and perhaps most shockingly, catcher Randy Hundley 151. xv Most Cubs regulars slumped in September, when the Mets overtook them.

In contrast, Hodges platooned at first, second, third, and right. The only Mets to play 125 games that season were outfielders Tommie Agee and Cleon Jones. xvi This kept his infielders fresh for the stretch-run in September, when the Mets won ten straight games and the Cubs lost eight in a row. In addition, Hodges used his bullpen and five-man rotation to the fullest possible extent. No Mets pitcher threw more than 241 innings that season other than Tom Seaver (273 innings) xvii and nine pitchers won at least six games each. In contrast, two of the Cubs’ starting pitchers, Ferguson Jenkins and Bill Hands, each threw at least 300 innings xviii and only five Cubs pitchers won at least five games.

Had Hodges managed the Cubs, he probably would have used infielders Paul Popovich and Nate Oliver more often and not wasted a roster spot on Durocher’s personal favorite Gene Oliver, who spent most of the season on the active list but had just 29 plate appearances. Veteran pitcher Don Nottebart spent nearly all of 1969 with the Cubs and pitched only 18 innings. Nottebart later referred to the back end of Durocher’s bullpen as the “dead man brigade,” a concept that wouldn’t have existed on a Gil Hodges club.

Talented but troubled Adolfo Phillips was one Cub that manager Leo Durocher had no idea how to motivate.

In his autobiography, Durocher wrote, “I never had a boss call me upstairs so that he could congratulate me for losing like a gentleman. ‘How you play the game’ is for college boys. When you’re playing for money, winning is the only thing that matters.” One way Durocher believed he would win was to have his pitchers throw at opposition batters, intending not just to back them off the plate but to hit them. But in a crucial Mets-Cubs game on September 8, 1969, Durocher was hoisted on his own petard.

That day, the Cubs—losers of four in a row and just 2½ ahead of the surging Mets—began a crucial two-game series at Shea. Jerry Koosman faced Bill Hands in the opener. Hoping to intimidate the Mets, Durocher ordered Hands to throw his first pitch of the game at Tommie Agee’s head. Agee hit the dirt, barely avoiding being knocked senseless. But Durocher’s strategy backfired. Koosman retaliated, hitting Cubs third baseman Ron Santo on the arm. Nobody on the Cubs bench moved.

In Agee’s next at-bat, he clubbed a two-run home run, and the Cubs were the ones who were backing away from the plate. Koosman struck out 13 for a 3–2 win. “Nobody told me to throw at Santo. Hodges didn’t say a word,” Koosman said. “It’s just something you learn. It’s how the game is played.” xix The next day, Durocher pitched Ferguson Jenkins on short rest—he’d lasted just 2 1/3 innings three days before—and the Mets won, 7–1. Had Hodges been managing the Cubs, he never would have instructed Hands to throw at Agee. That was not how Hodges operated.

Despite spending most of their careers in the same city, Durocher and Hodges sang from very different hymnbooks. When he retired, Durocher had been thrown out of more games than any other manager except John McGraw. Hodges, in contrast, believed umpires were just men doing their jobs as best they could; showing them up accomplished nothing. And Hodges’ positive reputation proved crucial when he handed home-plate umpire Lou DiMuro a shoe-polish stained ball in Game Five of the 1969 World Series, claiming that Cleon Jones had been hit by a pitch. DiMuro reversed his call, awarding Jones first base in the turning point of the game.

Had Hodges managed the Cubs, and Durocher the Mets, that historic play would never have taken place. Chicago, instead, might have been doing the rejoicing.

Notes

i Doug Feldmann, Miracle Collapse: The 1969 Chicago Cubs (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2006).

ii

Stanley Cohen, A Magic Summer: The Amazing Story of the 1969 New York Mets (New York: Skyhorse Publishing, 2009), 246.

iii1 Doug Feldmann, Miracle Collapse: The 1969 Chicago Cubs (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2006).

2

Stanley Cohen, A Magic Summer: The Amazing Story of the 1969 New York Mets (New York: Skyhorse Publishing, 2009), 246.

Glenn Stout, The Cubs: The Complete Story of Chicago Cubs Baseball (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2007), 270.

iv

Ibid.

v

Ibid. Phillips was batting only .224 at the time of the trade, but his on-base percentage was .424.

vi

Richard Goldstein, “Tommy Agee, of Miracle Mets, Dies at 58,” New York Times, January 23, 2001.

vii

Joseph Durso, “Mets Option Rohr and Keep Goossen,” New York Times, April 25, 1968.

viii

Maury Allen, After the Miracle: The Amazin’ Mets Twenty Years Later, (New York: Franklin Watts, 1989), 186.

ix

Maury Allen, telephone interview, December 19, 2006.

x

Allen, 188.

xi

Joseph Durso, “Mets: Crossroads Ahead; Cubs Coming to Town,” New York Times, July 6, 1969.

xii

Feldmann, 164. Generally, a more conservative manager, Hodges most likely would have walked Kranepool to create the force play at any base.

xiii

Rick Talley, The Cubs of ’69 (Chicago: Contemporary Books, 1989), 78-79.

xiv

Ibid, 178.

xv

Ibid, 336.

xvi

Cohen, 312.

xvii

Ibid.

xviii

Talley, 338.

xix

Peter Golenbock, Amazin’: The Miraculous History of New York’s Most Beloved Baseball Team (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2002), 234.

Split Season 1981, Chicago Style

Jeff Katz

A possible 1980 players’ strike was narrowly avoided by pushing the issue of free agent compensation down the road for further study. Despite this environment, real estate mogul Jerry Reinsdorf and television executive Eddie Einhorn were undeterred from leading a group to purchase the White Sox from Bill Veeck for $20 million in early 1981.

Mindful of labor discord, Reinsdorf asked other owners about the possibility of a coming strike. There was no way a work stoppage would occur, he was told, because the owners knew that compensation was the only matter at hand and it wasn’t enough to strike over. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time the owners made the mistake of projecting their own beliefs onto the players.

Jerry Reinsdorf, telephone interview, April 2013.

***

The lead negotiator for the owners since 1978—and a key player during the 1981 midseason strike that chopped the season in two—was Chicago native Ray Grebey. Growing up on the far North Side in Rogers Park during the 1930’s, he worshipped the powerful Cubbies of his youth. Grebey’s mother took him to his first game at Wrigley Field in 1932.

“I knew a lot of the guys, like Charlie Root. I knew Freddie Lindstrom’s son,” Grebey happily recalled. “I once saw Gabby Hartnett bite off the end of his cigar when he missed bowling a 300-game on his last roll.”

Chicago baseball followed Grebey to college, where, at Kenyon, he formed a lifelong friendship with classmate, dropout, and future White Sox owner Bill Veeck, whose father had been President of the Cubs when Grebey was growing up.

Later in his life, Grebey—embittered by his experience in baseball, vilified by Marvin Miller and the players’ union, and cast aside by the owners in 1983—had few baseball items on display in his Connecticut home, but did make room for his beloved Cubs. He had a matted 1990 All-Star Game ticket from Wrigley Field as well as a photo of the outside message board at Clark & Addison welcoming Ray Grebey to the game.

Even at the end, however, baseball was a constant; he watched games often. Grebey saw that rooting for the Chicago Cubs and being a labor relations professional were similar. “In both situations, you suffer immensely.”

Ray Grebey, in-person interview, May 2009.

***

Carlton Fisk was livid. The Red Sox had refused to send him his contract by December 20, 1980, knowing if they did that Fisk would be subject to arbitration. Once they realized they had to mail him his contract, it was too late and Fisk was declared a free agent on February 12, 1981. Instead of buttering up their superstar, Red Sox General Manager Haywood Sullivan criticized Fisk in the press.

Fisk, a seven-time All-Star, former Rookie of the Year and legendary World Series hero, was now on the market, but the absence of courting that usually accompanied a big-time free agent was impossible to miss.

New White Sox owners Reinsdorf and Einhorn watched the scene unfold. As new owners, they were tentative, not wanting to roil the waters, and gave the Red Sox time to re-sign their marquee catcher. Why other owners backed away was unknown. Was there collusion? Reinsdorf thought so. Eventually the White Sox signed Carlton Fisk on March 18 and tickets became a hot item.

Chicago—Fisk in tow—invaded Fenway Park on Opening Day 1981 and the park was buzzing. With the White Sox threatening in the top of the eighth inning, Fisk—who’d caught reliever Bob Stanley over the past four seasons—sat on one of his former batterymate’s sinkers and sent it over the Green Monster for a White Sox win. On Opening Day at Comiskey Park, Fisk hit a grand slam. Four days later, Fisk belted a two-run home run over Jim Rice’s head in left field to beat his former teammates yet again.

Nothing did more to change Chicago’s attitude towards the White Sox in the 1980s than the signing of Carlton Fisk. It was easy for Chicago fans to love Fisk, even in a navy blue SOX cap and pajama uniform.

Jerry Reinsdorf, telephone interview, April 2013.

Carlton Fisk, whose departure from Boston and arrival on Chicago’s south side was one of 1981’s big stories.

***

Sox supporters were an unruly bunch at the time. With Billy Martin’s Oakland A’s in town on June 2, White Sox fans took to their garbage cans, throwing biscuits, cups, and an apple core at left fielder Rickey Henderson. On June 4, the Comiskey switchboard received a death threat for Martin, who responded by donning a bulletproof vest.

The Yankees were in town on August 28. Reggie Jackson, slowly emerging from a season-long slump, singled and scored on a Bucky Dent hit. When Jackson headed to his position in right field for the bottom of the seventh inning, Sox fans showered him with money. Jackson, slated to become a free agent after the season, chuckled as he picked up every last coin and bill—$31.27 worth.

“Major League Flashes,” The Sporting News, June 20, 1981.

Steve Wulf, “The Bounce, The Bench and The Boo-Birds,” Sports Illustrated, September 7, 1981.

***

When the strike was called after midnight on June 12, the Yankees were in Chicago. Teams were instructed by the commissioner’s office to offer no help to their players—no travel reservations, no meals, and no way home. Complicating things in Chicago was a taxi strike.

Lou Piniella and Bobby Murcer, stranded outside Comiskey Park hours after Steve Trout and the Sox had beaten the Yankees 3-2, couldn’t find a ride. Luckily, a friendly police officer came driving by and gave the two players a lift to the Continental Plaza Hotel on North Michigan Ave. At the hotel bar, Murcer and Piniella saw players and executives sitting at separate ends of the bar, unwilling even to drink together.

Graig Nettles and Peter Golenbock, Balls (New York: Pocket Books, 1985).

***

“Joey, I’m selling the team. Tell your coaches.”

On June 16, just four days into the strike, Cubs manager Joey Amalfitano received a call from team owner William Wrigley. After more than six decades of family ownership, Wrigley had sold the club for some $20.5 million to the Tribune Company.

In the newsroom of the Chicago Tribune, word began to spread. There wasn’t enough advance notice for the White Sox fans in the room to take down their Comiskey Park posters. Some staffers found Cubs caps and quickly donned them.

Though Cubs General Manager Herman Franks gave the Wrigleys credit for being less interested in money and more in keeping the team in Chicago, the Tribune saw dollar signs: big ones. It was clear that a media giant had much value in owning a baseball team. The Cubs, already instant programming for WGN radio and television, could quickly be shifted into a national cable phenomenon. Much untapped revenue rested in a major league franchise no longer run as a hobby by archaic family ownership.

“'It’s the end of an era, but hopefully the beginning of another era,”' said Cubs fan and new President Ronald Reagan.

Neil Amdur, “Chicago Cubs Are Sold By Wrigley to Tribune Co. for $20.5 Million,” New York Times, June 17, 1981.

***

When settlement talks fell apart in late July, representatives from the Major League Baseball Player’s Association decided to go on the road to keep their forces united. The first stop, on July 27, was the O’Hare Hilton, where, after an appearance on The Phil Donohue Show, the reps met with more than 50 players. Cubs’ Mike Krukow and Bill Buckner had been outspokenly impatient with the union and tired of sitting around. They wanted to play.

Bob Boone (NL Player Representative) and Doug DeCinces (AL Player Representative) gave a recap of where the talks stood and Marvin Miller, Executive Director of the MLBPA, explained the owners’ plan on compensation for teams losing free agents.

“If you had to take a team vote today,” Miller asked the 26 team reps, “do you think the clubs’ proposal would get majority support?” 24 of them voted no, and all pledged support to Miller and his team. After over five hours, the meeting adjourned. Players met with the press and Krukow and Buckner were clearly back on board.

“I’m behind the negotiating team 100 percent. Now I can sit out the season and not feel quite as bad,” said Buckner.

Joe Durso, “Owners’ Session Called; Players on Coast to Meet,”The New York Times, July 29, 1981.

***

Once the two sides came to an agreement to end the strike, the players and owners held individual meetings to ratify the settlement. On August 6, three days after the air traffic controllers’ (PATCO) strike that paralyzed American air travel, the owners met at the O’Hare Hilton, the barely-used runaways visible from their conference room windows.

Though ratification was a foregone conclusion, the crack of “Gussie” Busch’s cane rapping on the floor brought the gathering to attention. The Cardinals chairman of the board had a few things to say.

“I have never been more disgusted, angry, and ashamed of a situation in which I was involved,” he berated his colleagues. Busch was apoplectic at the proposal of a pool of players, created with contributions from all teams, from which a team losing a free agent could select a replacement as compensation.

“What did we end up with? If the Cubs lose a player to the Phillies through free agency, then possibly I have the honor of giving the Cubs my 27 th best player. Marvelous compensation. I have been in baseball in good times and in bad, but none so shameful. If you have any courage left, I urge the men of integrity here today to vote ‘no’ on this contract. If nothing else it will show that the entire ownership of baseball is not insane.” The new generation of owners— George Steinbrenner, Jerry Reinsdorf, and others—watched in amazement as the old guard made one last stand.

August Busch, statement to owners August 6, 1981, from Marvin and Theresa (Terry) Miller Papers WAG.165, Tamiment Library/Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives, Elmer Holmes Bobst Library, 70 Washington Square South, New York, NY 10012, New York University Libraries.

Jerry Reinsdorf, telephone interview, April 2013.

***

The split-season plan, agreed on at the O’Hare Hilton owners’ meeting on August 6, mandated a second pennant race in all four divisions, followed with a best of five mini-playoff between the two half-winners, should they be different teams. If the two half-winners were the same club, that team would play the team with the second-best overall record.

White Sox manager Tony La Russa cried foul. The White Sox, only 2 ½ games out of first in the AL West, saw their solid first half erased. La Russa remarked that if the Yankees and Dodgers hadn’t already finished in first place, the owners would never have considered locking in the first-half winners. Once again, he felt, the big media markets ruled.

Worse to La Russa was that the split-season plan left room for a team to lose on purpose to guarantee a playoff spot. A number two team overall could lose on purpose to the first-half winner, guaranteeing the latter a second-half title as well and ensuring themselves of a playoff position. On an ABC Sunday afternoon baseball telecast, he made it clear that his team would never lose on purpose, but rather would choose to not take the field. Commissioner Bowie Kuhn, outraged, wrote to La Russa seeking clarification.

La Russa and Kuhn met and the skipper reaffirmed his stance that his team would forfeit if that’s what it took to make the post-season. Kuhn dashed off a note to White Sox owners Reinsdorf and Einhorn reminding them that Rule 21 stated that a team needed to try its best.

La Russa’s intelligence and outspokenness forced a change in plans. The split season was revised. If the two half-winners were the same, then they would face the second-half, second-place team. This was a simple fix to the situation of which Tony La Russa had warned.

Bowie Kuhn and Tony LaRussa on Sunday afternoon ABC game, August 16, 1981, from Bowie K. Kuhn Collection, BA MSS 100, National Baseball Hall of Fame & Museum, Cooperstown, NY.

***

Having a statue outside Wrigley Field is an honor reserved for only the most beloved figures in Cubs history. Harry Caray deserves his immortalization in bronze, but if you think Harry was always the darling of Cubs fans, think again.

Following the 1981 season, the White Sox announced they were moving their games from free television to SportsVision, a team-owned cable operation. No longer were they willing to pour money into WGN now that the Tribune Company owned their TV station AND their rivals. It was time, Einhorn and Reinsdorf thought, to bring on the future. For $21.95 per month, Sox fans could watch their South Siders, along with the Sting soccer team, the NHL Blackhawks, and the NBA Bulls (who in the pre-Michael Jordan days were far from enticing).

Harry Caray, for 11 years the voice of the White Sox, wouldn’t stand for it. His people, the working class, Falstaff-swilling masses, would be shut out of his broadcasts. Rather than sign for another year with the White Sox, Caray bolted north to the Cubs.

Cubs fans lit up the Wrigley switchboard with complaints. While 77% of callers were initially irate that they’d have to listen to Caray’s individualistic style, he soon became a national hero via WGN’s long reach. By 1998, he had his statue.

Joe Goddard, “Caray Shifted for ‘My People,’” The Sporting News, December 5, 1981.
Bob Markus, “White Sox Will Put Games on Pay TV,” The Sporting News, October 31, 1981.

***

The compensation agreement hashed out in the 1981 strike settlement paid big dividends for the White Sox in January 1984, when their pitcher Dennis Lamp signed with Toronto as a free agent. Owners Reinsdorf and Einhorn, alongside General Manager Roland Hemond, read a list of unprotected compensation players sent via teletype. They couldn’t believe when they saw Tom Seaver on the list. Lamp for Seaver? They couldn’t make a trade that good!

Mets’ president Fred Wilpon was angry at Reinsdorf for picking Seaver, but who had left Seaver unprotected in the first place? Tom Terrific, still effective, won 15 games for the White Sox in 1984 and another 16 in 1985, one of which was his 300 th major league win—at Yankee Stadium.

Jerry Reinsdorf, telephone interview, April 2013.

Palmer House Stars

Leslie Heaphy

Staying at Chicago’s famous Palmer House Hotel during the 1930s and 1940s allowed guests to enjoy more than just the hospitality, luxury, and impressive guest rooms.[i] Guests would also have been entertained by one of the hotel’s baseball teams.

Chicago has a storied history of semi-pro and amateur baseball in addition to the Cubs and White Sox (and their predecessors) along with the Whales and American Giants and other African American teams. The Palmer House contributed four teams of hotel employees over the years but only one of those was African American: the Palmer House Stars. Typical pay for a semi-pro team was anywhere from $5 to $15 a game.

Stars owner L.M. Gamble entered his team in tournaments and exhibition games all over the Midwest, and the team became highly sought. The club earned a strong reputation playing in the Illinois State Semi-pro championship as well as in the National Semi-pro Tournament during the late 1930s and early 1940s.

The Stars relied on the solid play of Roosevelt Davis, Bernell Longest, and Maurice Wiggins and also attracted some big-name Negro Leagues stars such as Alex Radcliffe, Jack Marshall, and future Hall of Fame outfielder Turkey Stearnes. Chicago was a hotbed for baseball in general, and black baseball in particular, with the Palmer House Stars providing a strong opponent for local clubs as for any other nine passing through town.

Black baseball in Chicago was not new by the 1930s. The Chicago American Giants had by then become a fixture, building on the foundation laid by Andrew “Rube” Foster and teams such as the Leland Giants, Chicago Unions, and others. Black teams regularly took part in the Chicago City League as well as exhibition and benefit games. This extensive history provided a good foundation for the rise of the Palmer House team.ii

In 1934, Palmer House owner Potter Palmer III decided to host an intra-hotel league to entertain his establishment’s guests. During the first year, the league title went to the Tigers, a team made up of players representing the hotel’s accounting department. In 1935 and 1936 the honor went to the Caterers, a club comprised entirely of black waiters. This club became the nucleus of the Palmer House Stars, who remained together as a team through 1941. When the team finally folded, many of the players stayed on at the Palmer House, though some were picked up by the Chicago Brown Bombers, an entrant in the short-lived United States League toward the end of World War II.iii

Head waiter Maurice Wiggins was a mainstay of the Palmer House Stars. Wiggins worked at the Palmer House for fifty years as a busboy and then a waiter. In the 1960s, after retiring from the Palmer House, he became a sportswriter for local Chicago papers such as the Courier and Independent Bulletin, penning a weekly column entitled “Wiggins Says.” Like many other black families did in the early 1900s, Wiggins’ family came to Chicago as part of the great migration. His dad, a barber, brought the family north from Water Valley, Mississippi when Wiggins was only twelve.iv

Wiggins provided stability and organization for the Stars as well as the hotel. While not a star player, Wiggins manned shortstop as well as helping to arrange games locally and set up barnstorming opportunities. He went on to play for the Chicago American Giants and the Gilkerson Union Giants.

The real heart of team was Alex Radcliffe, younger brother of flashy, well-known Ted “Double-Duty” Radcliffe. Alex came to the Palmer House Stars in 1939 and served as player-manager in 1940 and 1941. During a game, he was usually found at the hot corner rather than in the dugout.

Radcliffe’s impressive Negro League career began with the Chicago American Giants in 1932. Adoring Chicago fans helped vote him into 11 East-West classics during his career. He also played one season in the Cuban Winter League before finishing his career with the Memphis Red Sox in 1946. Radcliffe holds the record for at-bats (50) in the East-West classics and is tied with Josh Gibson for the most hits with 17.[v]

With Radcliffe at the helm, the Palmer House Stars enjoyed their most successful seasons from 1939–1941. All three seasons, they reached the finals of the Illinois State Semi-pro championship and won the title in both 1939 and 1940. Capturing the state tournament certified the club to play in the National Tournament in Wichita, Kansas, where in 1940 they finished fifth overall. Their trip in 1939 marked the first time Illinois had been represented at the national by a black club. At the 1940 National Baseball Congress, shortstop Jack Marshall was the Stars’ only representative on the all-tournament team, although Radcliffe led all players with a .437 batting average.vi

Outside of tournament games, newspaper coverage of the Stars was sporadic. This was a common reality for many black squads, but it did not reflect the quality of the team or the number of games it played. Black newspapers often did not have reporters to cover games and relied instead on teams to send in their own reports. Many smaller towns had no black newspapers, and white papers did not always report on barnstorming games. One is, however, still able to piece together enough evidence to argue that the Palmer House Stars were a strong, worthy opponent for any team. In fact, the Chicago Garfieldian called the club “one of the classiest negro aggregations” in a May 1940 article.vii Later that same year a Freeport Journal-Standard reporter referred to the team as “classy negroes” while describing their play at the state tournament. In that same article the reporter gave a full accounting of a fight that broke out Jack Marshall and an opposing shortstop after Marshall came in high on a slide. This incident did not alter the writer’s view of the players’ athletic abilities or their characters.viii

How did the Stars get to the 1939 state tournament? Their season began with spring training in New Orleans in late March. The club played its way north in order to begin a 70-game season by the end of May. While documentation for many of these games has not yet been found, some of the Stars’ opponents included the Toledo Crawfords and Sheboygan Nine. The Stars played two benefit games against the Crawfords, with the proceeds going to help out a presumably ailing Frank V. Messiah, a 25-year veteran head of personnel and waiters for the Palmer House.

While scores were not reported for either game, the short accounts found in the Chicago Defender indicated the fans were treated to exciting matches. In mid-June, crossing the Midwest to play any and all comers, the Palmer House team trounced Sheboygan 15–3. The club hoped to win as many games as possible in order to gain invitation to the State tournament.ix

The Illinois State tournament in Peoria went for 16 days—assuming no rain delays—with a double-elimination process. The games attracted large crowds, and winning players each received a trophy and a monetary award. (It was reported following the 1939 series that 11,300 fans attended the games, raising nearly $3,000 through ticket sales. The 1939 championship Palmer House team picked up $577 in cash, or $37 per player.[x]

At the tourney, the Palmer House got off to a good start, winning early behind the steady pitching of Norman Cross, who led the staff with four wins in the tournament. Cross turned in a one-hit performance against the Hiram Walkers, also from Peoria, to reach the finals, as the Stars romped 16–4; five Palmer House players had two or more hits.xi The final victory was a 15–5 decision against Peoria’s Woodruff nine. Cross pitched a six-hitter in that game, ably called by catcher Andy Drake; the Palmer House club was aided by 10 Woodruff errors. As the tournament winner, the Stars traveled to Wichita, Kansas, where, although they did not win, just by being there they added to their reputation.xii

The Stars begin their 1940 spring training in Texas and then played their way north for another 70-game season. A big highlight of the season was the series of games the Stars played against the Kansas City Monarchs. In one report, the Palmer House team was credited with downing the Monarchs six times before finally losing 2–1 to Satchel Paige. Roosevelt Davis took the loss in that game even though he struck out 10 Monarchs (besting Paige’s eight strikeouts). Davis was accused of scuffing the ball, though nothing came of the accusation.xiii

Other 1940 opponents included the Albion Tigers (who downed the Palmer House 8–6), the Chicago Mills, the Puerto Rican Stars in Wisconsin, and the George Evans Corporate Nine from Moline, IL. The Stars trounced the Puerto Rican Stars 17–6 just prior to the state tournament, gaining revenge for a previous 4–2 loss.xiv

At the state tournament, the Palmer House Stars fell to the Chicago Mills 5–4 but rebounded with a 4–2 win in a rematch with the same team to win the championship. Melvin Powell led the Stars’ hitting attack with two runs scored, two doubles, and an RBI. The Palmer House also downed the Jays of Peoria, and the George Evans Corporate Nine (Moline) on their way to winning their second straight State championship and another trip to Kansas.xv

They lost their first game at the National level to a team from Duncan, Oklahoma, 4–2, but beat Iowa’s Aurilla Merchants 13–6. Alex Radcliffe led the way in the latter game with a grand slam homer. By the tournament’s conclusion, the Stars were fifth, coming in strong behind the pitching of ace Roosevelt Davis. After the tournament the Stars played a series of exhibition games on their way home. In two of those games the Stars beat the Chanute, Kansas nine, 3–2, and the Eldorado club, 15–8.xvi

With Radcliffe back at the hot corner and as manager in 1941 the Stars completed a 100-game schedule and reached the state tournament for the third year in a row. Their regular season began with a 6–4 loss to McGill Metals in late May. Lefty Cook picked up the loss even though most of the runs were unearned due to Radcliffe’s first-inning error. Other opponents during the season included the House of David, the Aurillia Merchants of Iowa, the Oroville Olives from Sacramento, the Hammond (Indiana) All Stars, the Reno, Nevada Larks, the Butte, Montana Boosters, and, again, the Kansas City Monarchs. In the state tournament, the Palmer House beat the Davenport Maroons 8–2 in their first game and followed up with a 9–8 squeaker over Johnson Motors, but a 5–4 loss to Rock Valley and another defeat against Joliet Schlitz sent them home.

Following the conclusion of the 1941 season, the Palmer House Stars folded. Many of the club’s players continued to toil for other local Chicago teams. A few went on to play for the Chicago Brown Bombers, who in 1945 participated in the short-lived United States League (USBL). The USBL was rumored to be a recruiting ground for Branch Rickey and other white professional owners looking for Negro players.

The Palmer House Stars did not have a long tenure, but proved successful in Chicago and throughout Illinois. Their invitations to the National Semi-pro Series showed that they were no fluke, but rather a respected and highly-sought opponent. Their story should not be forgotten in the history of Chicago baseball.

i http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/chicago/peopleevents/p_ppalmer.html

ii http://www.encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org/pages/1184.html

iii Leslie Heaphy, Black Baseball in Chicago, (NC: McFarland Publishing,2006) 34-35.

iv Brian Bergstein, “Black Baseball Promoter Describes Struggle,” Daily Northwestern (Evanston, IL), May 14, 1992, 1, 10.

v http://www.baseball-reference.com/bullpen/Alex_Radcliffe

vi http://www.nbcbaseball.com/images/content/files/allamericanteams/40_allamerican_team.pdf

vii The Garfieldian, May 9, 1940, 12.

viii Freeport Journal Standard, August 7, 1940, 11.

ix “Palmer House Stars to Leave for New Orleans,” Chicago Defender, March 25, 1939, 10; Black Baseball in Chicago; Chicago Defender, June 10, 1939, 9.

x Rockford Register Republic, August 2, 1939, 10.

xi Illinois State Journal, August 29, 1939, 12; “Chicago Team wins State Championship,” Centralia Evening News, August 9, 1939; Freeport Journal-Standard, July 21, 1939; “High Scoring Contests Mark Semi-Pro Tourney,” Rockford Register-Republic, July 21, 1939.

xii “Three State Semi-Pro Champions Certified,” The Spokesman Review (Wichita, KS), August 4, 1939, 24.

xiii “Paige Pitches; Wins 2-1,” Chicago Defender, September 28, 1940, 22.

xiv Capital Times, June 3, 1940 and July 29, 1940; “Palmer House Cops Exhibition,” Madison WI State Journal, July 29, 1940, 11.

xv Rockford Morning Star, July 18, 1940; Freeport Journal-Standard, August 2, 1940.

xvi Freeport Journal-Standard, August 7, 1940; “Palmer House Wins and Loses in Wichita Tourney,” Chicago Defender, August 31, 1940, 22

The Peculiar Professional Baseball Career of Eddie Gaedel

Eric Robinson

Hall of Fame baseball owner Bill Veeck is remembered for many things, including winning American League pennants as owner of the Cleveland Indians in 1948 and the Chicago White Sox in 1959; suffering injuries as a Marine in WWII that required him to use a wooden leg the rest of his life; signing Larry Doby as the first openly African American player in the American League; and bringing Satchel Paige to the Cleveland Indians as a 42-year-old rookie.

To the many people that refer to Veeck as the “Barnum of Baseball,” however, his legacy is associated with a single plate appearance that he orchestrated as a publicity stunt while owner of the lowly St. Louis Browns in 1951 [i] .

The man who took that plate appearance was Chicago native Eddie Gaedel, who at 3’7” and 65 pounds is the smallest man ever to play Major League Baseball.

Gaedel was born on June 8, 1925, to parents of “normal” physical stature. His two siblings were of normal height as well. ii Despite being sensitive to his height and suffering ridicule and mistreatment due to it, Gaedel took advantage of the opportunities afforded a little person (or “midget” in the language of the time), accepting promotional jobs for circuses, rodeos, and stores. iii

After stints owning the Cleveland Indians and the minor-league Milwaukee Brewers, Bill Veeck led a group that purchased the perennial cellar-dwelling St. Louis Browns on July 3, 1951. At that point in the season they were averaging some 3,700 fans a game, 9,700 fewer than the Cardinals were drawing at the same locale, Sportsman’s Park. iv

As part of his flurry of promotional activities, Veeck decided to do something special during a doubleheader scheduled against the Detroit Tigers on August 19, 1951. The day was meant to celebrate the 50 th anniversary of the American League and the club’s chief sponsor, Falstaff Beer. Veeck contacted booking agent Marty Caine and with complete secrecy had Caine search for a midget who was “somewhat athletic and game for anything.” [v] The agent sent him Eddie Gaedel.

Gaedel was initially apprehensive due to the potential danger of being hit by an errant fastball, but soon grew excited at the idea of being a cup-of-coffee big leaguer and the attention that would come with it. vi

The only hint Veeck gave to the 18,000 fans in attendance for the August 19 doubleheader was on the day’s scorecard. There, in black and white, was an entry for a new player, Gaedel, who had the rather curious number of “1/8” printed beside his name. When a local reporter asked about this, the text was simply shrugged off as a printing mistake. vii

Following the first game of the twin bill, which the Tigers won 5–2, Veeck turned Sportsman’s Park into a carnival, featuring acrobats, baseball clown Max Patkin, a band playing at home plate that featured Satchel Paige on drums, and free Falstaff beer for the adults in the crowd. The highlight of the fun was a large cake wheeled to the infield. From inside the cake emerged Eddie Gaedel, wearing a Browns uniform, pointy shoes, and a pointy hat.

Falstaff executives, unfortunately, were vocally displeased at being promised a large promotional event and ending up with “only” a little person in a costume jumping from a cake. viii Veeck could hardly contain himself as he waited for the real surprise.

Duane Pillette of the Browns retired the Tigers in the first inning of Game Two. When Frank Saucier, the first batter for Browns, was about to step to the plate in the last of the first, St. Louis manager Zack Taylor signaled for a pinch hitter. The crowd was shocked to see a 3’7” tall batter start limbering up with three toy bats.

The umpires quickly tried to stop the at-bat, but Veeck made sure Taylor was prepared. The manager presented the official copy of Gaedel’s valid contract as submitted to the American League office. After 15 minutes of deliberation, and probably a phone call to league headquarters in Chicago, home plate umpire Ed Hurley returned and summoned Gaedel to the batter’s box. ix

Detroit catcher Bob Swift ran to the mound to have a quick strategy conference with pitcher Bob Cain. The 26-year-old southpaw proceeded to throw four straight balls well over the head of Gaedel, laughing as hard as anyone in the park during the final two. [x] Gaedel took his time as he trotted to first base, playing to the crowd. After being pulled for pinch runner Jim Delsing, Gaedel slapped his substitute on the rump then took even longer to run across the field to the Browns’ dugout, tipping his hat and bowing to cheers multiple times. xi

Within two days, the American League office had voided Gaedel’s contract, but could not erase his one appearance for the Browns. On September 6 of the same year, Gaedel had an at-bat for an amateur team in Sycamore, Illinois. This one ended with him leaving the game after getting into an argument with the umpire. xii

Several weeks later, a police officer in Cincinnati stopped Gaedel for being drunk and argumentative and carted him to jail. Gaedel tried to convince the arresting officer that he was a professional baseball player. xiii

In 1959, when Bill Veeck owned the Chicago White Sox, he hired Gaedel and three other little people for another memorable appearance. Dressed in Martian clothing, they were lowered by helicopter into Comiskey Park, where near second base they “abducted” the diminutive double play combo of Nellie Fox and Luis Aparicio and made them honorary Martians. xiv

Veeck later employed Gaedel as an usher at Comiskey Park, but in typical Veeck style—after he had been receiving complaints about tall ushers blocking fans’ views in the box-seat section. xv

On June 18, 1961, Eddie Gaedel was found dead following a drunken incident at a bowling alley that left him battered, bleeding, and suffering internal injuries. He was only 36. xvi With Bill Veeck at the Mayo Clinic due to health issues, the only person affiliated with baseball to attend his funeral was Bob Cain, the Detroit pitcher of that infamous plate appearance ten years prior. Cain drove 300 miles to attend.

Until his own death in 1997, Cain honored Gaedel each year with a personalized Christmas card which featured a picture of Gaedel in his batting stance and the inside caption reading, “Hope your target in the future is better than mine in 1951.” xvii

Eddie Gaedel with manager Zack Taylor on the Browns’ bench.

i Paul Dickson, Bill Veeck: Baseball’s Greatest Maverick (New York: Walker & Company, 2012).

ii Brian McKenna, “Eddie Gaedel,” SABR Bio Project: accessed December 11, 2014, http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/fa5574c8

iii Ibid.

iv Dickson, Bill Veeck: Baseball’s Greatest Maverick.

v Bill Veeck, Veeck as in Wreck (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1962).

vi Ibid.

vii Ibid.

viii Ibid.

ix Ibid.

x Dickson, Bill Veeck: Baseball’s Greatest Maverick.

xi Veeck, Veeck as in Wreck.

xii McKenna, “Eddie Gaedel,” SABR Bio Project.

xiii Dickson, Bill Veeck: Baseball’s Greatest Maverick.

xiv Veeck, Veeck as in Wreck.

xv McKenna, “Eddie Gaedel,” SABR Bio Project.

xvi “Eddie Gaedel Obituary - New York Times,” accessed December 11, 2014, http://www.baseball-almanac.com/deaths/eddie_gaedel_obituary.shtml

xvii Dickson, Bill Veeck: Baseball’s Greatest Maverick.

When They Were Just Boys: Chicago and Youth Baseball Take Center Stage

Alan Cohen

Not long after D-Day, in June 1944, Esquire magazine summoned 16- and 17-year-old boys from all over the country to New York for the first Esquire All-American Boys Baseball Game.

Chicago was one of 29 cities to send players to this game. A local newspaper would select a deserving local player and pay their travel expenses. In 1944, the Windy City’s rep was first baseman Charlie Perchak, who had three hits in the game. [i] Perchak’s eye-popping fielding in a practice game caught everyone’s attention, and manager Connie Mack was impressed enough to name him team captain. He later signed with the Cubs, but in four minor league seasons, interrupted by two years in the military, rose only to Class B. His dream of stardom ended in 1950.

This is a story of Chicago’s relationship with youth all-star games many years ago. Nearly 30 players represented Chicago in these games and three made it to the majors. Most, like Charlie Perchak, did not. But these games also launched the careers of two dozen players, from other locales, who went on to play with the Cubs and White Sox.

Before the 1944 Esquire game, a photographer snapped a picture of the day’s starting pitchers with the managers. The pitcher for the East team, number 19, was known as “Mr. Zero” due to his numerous shutouts. He pitched six scoreless innings for the win, striking out seven and allowing only three hits. He was named the game’s MVP. ii

Along with the award came a four-year college scholarship. Rather than attend school, however, Billy Pierce signed with the Detroit Tigers and pitched for them in parts of the 1945 and 1948 seasons before being traded to the White Sox, where he blossomed. In 13 years with Chicago, Pierce fashioned a 186–152 mark with a 3.19 ERA. He was named to seven All-Star teams and led his league with 20 wins in 1957, 186 strikeouts in 1953, and a 1.97 ERA in 1955). At age 35, when it looked like he was slowing down, Pierce was traded to the Giants and his 16–6 record sparked the Giants’ 1962 National League pennant run. As for his #19, it is one of ten numbers the White Sox have retired.

The selection process for the Chicago representative to the 1945 Esquire game emerged from a youth All-Star contest at Comiskey Park on July 28. In the event, sponsored by the Peoria Journal, the CYO All-Stars defeated the American Legion All-Stars 1–0 in seven innings. Bloomington High School’s sophomore pitching star John Neal, a two-way player, started the game in the outfield, getting two hits and then pitched a hitless last inning in the seven inning contest. He was selected to go to New York. iii In batting practice before the game in New York, Neal turned heads, depositing balls into the outfield stands. The hitting display impressed team manager Babe Ruth so much that the Bambino elected Neal to play outfield in the game.

Neal, batting cleanup, did not disappoint. He went 2-for-4 with a single and a double and was right in the middle of a rally that resulted in his team scoring its first two runs in the fourth inning en route to a 5–4 win.

In 1945, Jim Crosset took over promotion of the game for Esquire and was instrumental in moving it to Chicago for 1946. What was to be the last Esquire game was played before 28,211 at Wrigley Field in Chicago on August 10, 1946. Six of the 16 players on the East team eventually made the majors.

In the days prior to the game, the young players got to see two games between the White Sox and the Indians, attended a performance of the Ringling Brothers Circus, took a two-and-a-half hour boat ride on Lake Michigan, and attended a practice of the College All-Stars football team.

Ty Cobb, manager of the West squad, applauded the game. “When any event makes it possible for boys from all sections of the country to meet on common ground, and where all have a common interest, it is a big step forward in making this country a better place for our coming generation to live in.” iv Honus Wagner managed the East Squad, assisted by coaches Luke Appling and Mike Tresh.

Cobb’s squad exploded for five runs in the sixth inning and coasted to a 10–4 victory. Walter Pocekay went 4-for-5 with a double and two RBIs and was named the game’s MVP [v] . Pocekay played in parts of nine minor league seasons, mostly on the West Coast, and batted .308 overall, but never reached the majors.

Chicago’s representative in the game, Pete Pantos, played for the West squad. He signed with the Cleveland Indians in 1948, but only got as far as Class C in his one minor league season.

Bob Will, from suburban Chicago, played in the Hearst games and the major leagues.

Several players from this game did make the majors, however: Hobie Landrith, Chuck Stobbs, Harry Agganis, Pete Whisenant, John Powers, and Harold “Tookie” Gilbert.

Esquire had hoped to take the game to a different city each year, but these hopes were dashed in December 1946 when the magazine officially pulled the plug on the project.

Two other youth tournaments, however, had their inaugural contests in 1946.

“Brooklyn Against the World,” a yearly three-game series held at Ebbets Field in both 1946 and 1947, featured players from all over the United States (including the territory of Hawaii) and Canada facing Brooklyn’s finest. The Chicago Daily News sent Art Sepke in 1946. Sepke was selected for the game by Rogers Hornsby, the director of the Chicago Daily News Free Baseball School.

Sepke had batted .405 in his senior year of high school and hurled his team to five wins. At the end of the season, when his squad was depleted by injury, he even stepped behind the plate for a couple of games. Sepke played for parts of two seasons in the Class D Sooner State League, but his pro career ended in 1949.

The Chicago Daily News sent Joe Naples to the 1947 game. Naples, a shortstop, had batted .455 in his senior year at Chicago Vocational High School. vi Although not signed by a major league team, he pursued his baseball dream to Class D in 1949, playing in the Alabama State League and the Mississippi-Ohio Valley League. Over the course of the season, he batted .234, and it became clear that he would not be the next Marty Marion.

In 1946, the Brooklyn team had so much good pitching that one of its hurlers only saw action in one game, playing right field. He signed with the Yankees later that summer and soon, Edward “Whitey” Ford had “made it.”

The Hearst Sandlot Classic was the most enduring of these youth games. Each season from 1946 through 1958, Hearst Newspapers from around the country sent players to New York’s Polo Grounds to face a New York contingent sponsored by the Journal-American . Chicago’s Hearst paper the Chicago Herald-American, sent two players to the game each year. In 1959, the Classic was moved to Yankee Stadium where it was contested through 1965, as the New York Journal- American ceased publication in early 1966.

Chicago’s Herb Adams was the starting pitcher for the U.S. All-Stars in the first Hearst game. Adams, who had earned his way on to the squad by virtue of his performance in an All-Star game at Wrigley Field on July 1, signed with his hometown White Sox in 1947 as an outfielder and batted .405 in his first minor league season with Class D Madisonville, Kentucky. That opened a few eyes and he was promoted to the White Sox in 1948. He played parts of three seasons with the Sox before his major league career concluded in 1950 at age 24. After two years in the military, he returned to the minors and played through 1959. Over 11 minor league seasons, he batted .312.

Another Chicago player sent East in 1947 really made the headlines. The Weber High School senior earned his way to New York by winning the Herald-American ’s “Home-Run King” Contest in March 1947. He became the first person to homer in the Hearst Classic, banging a ball to deepest center field and circling the bases for an inside-the-park homer as the U.S. All-Stars defeated the Journal-American All-Stars 13–2 before more than 31,000 spectators, including the game’s honorary chairman, Babe Ruth.

Who was this kid? None other than Bill “Moose” Skowron, who signed with the Yankees in 1950 and tore things up on the farm. In 1952, at Kansas City, he hit 31 homers and drove in 134 runs, adding a .341 batting average. He eventually joined the Yankees and played with them for nine seasons. Over the course of his 14-year career in the majors, he hit 211 homers.

In the ensuing seasons, Chicago continued to send players to New York. Their 1949 representative, Bobby (later “Bob”) Will, took a while to get to the majors. He was the game’s Most Valuable Player, driving in three runs with a single and a double. His bases-loaded single in the seventh inning plated two more and tied the game 5–5. The next batter, Ralph Felton, plated the game’s final two runs with a single.

Glenn Beckert, a skinny kid from Pittsburgh, got experience in the Hearst tourney before playing pro ball.

There wasn’t much big money in baseball in those days, so Will elected to pursue his education at Mankato Teachers College in Minnesota and Northwestern University. He signed with the Cubs in 1954 and first reached the majors in 1957, appearing in 70 games. In 1959, he played 162 games at Triple-A Fort Worth, batting .336 and winning American Association MVP honors. He spent the next three full seasons with the Cubs.

Will was the last of the Hearst Game players from Chicago to reach the majors, but the annual contest launched the careers of other Cubs and White Sox. In 1954, Los Angeles was represented by Barry Latman and Jim McAnany. Both signed with the White Sox. Latman pitched six years in the majors and compiled a 59–68 record, fashioning an 8–5 mark for the pennant-winning 1959 White Sox. McAnany had the best year of his career for those same Sox, batting .276 in 67 games.

But the real bonanza for the Windy City was 1958. In that year, Boston was represented by Len Merullo, Jr. (His father, Lennie Merullo, committed four errors in one inning the day his son was born.) The young Merullo was the youngest player on the U.S. All-Stars that year, as the game (in New York) was played a month prior to his sixteenth birthday. The senior Merullo accompanied his son to New York, and the younger Merullo’s teammates—particularly a kid from Seattle named Ron Santo—were thrilled to be around the former big leaguer.

Prior to the trip East, Santo was not considering signing with the Cubs, but the influence of the senior Merullo was such that the Cubs’ West Coast scouts had little trouble convincing him. Not only did the Cubs ink Santo, they also signed Paul Popovich and John Boccabella.

Glenn Beckert first played in the 1958 game in Pittsburgh, and in 1959 was selected to play in New York. Originally signed with the Boston Red Sox in 1962, he was taken by the Cubs in the first-year draft after the season. He joined the Cubs in 1965. In nine seasons with the Cubs, “Bruno” was named to four All-Star teams, won one Gold Glove, and batted .283.

While several games featuring five, or six, Hearst alums have been found, the most to appear in a big-league game appears to be eight. On August 9, 1972, the Cubs hosted the Montreal Expos at Wrigley Field, and each team was represented by four former Hearst Sandlot Classic players. Santo, Beckert, Popovich, and Tommy Davis took the field that day for the Cubs, while the Expos featured Ron Fairly, Mike Jorgensen, John Boccabella, and Mike Marshall. Four of them started the game: Fairly, Santo, Beckert, and Jorgensen.

When it comes to players from kids’ All-Star games showing up at the same place, however, nothing tops the 1957 World Series. Tony Kubek, Gene Conley, Frank Torre, Bill Skowron, and Bob Grim had played in the Hearst Games, while Whitey Ford and Don McMahon had played in “Brooklyn Against the World.”

Yet another player from the 1958 Pittsburgh All-Star game which produced Popovich and Beckert wound up in Chicago. An outfielder chosen as an alternate for the 1958 Hearst Sandlot Classic, he went on to play football at the University of Pittsburgh. As noted in the Pittsburgh Sun-Telegraph, he was “easily the biggest man on the field…the 6-foot, 3-inch 215-pounder, who’ll probably play an end at Pitt this fall, showed speed and a healthy swing. He couldn’t get hold of one in the game but demonstrated his power in batting drills. He sent two over the wall to the right of the scoreboard in left.” vii

After graduating from the University of Pittsburgh, he was drafted by the Chicago Bears. Mike Ditka went on to a very successful career that did not include baseball.

The games in New York continued through 1965, but the Journal-American ceased publication in early 1966.  In New York, annual games between the Yankees Juniors and the Mets Juniors were played through 1970. In Boston, the Hearst program continued through 1971.

Recent years have seen a resurgence of interest in sandlot baseball.  In New York, the Greater New York Sandlot Athletic Alliance sponsors kids’ programs as well as an annual dinner at which young players receive scholarship awards and old-timers swap stories of the Journal-American days.

We shall close this brief history with a story of the 1971 game in Boston. The experience of a youngster from Everett, Massachusetts in that contest is the stuff from which miracles are made.

Picked for the 90-man squad was a 16-year-old infielder who would not be denied his place. He went to tryout after tryout before being selected as one of the 90 semi-finalists. viii In a game the morning of July 29, the youngster went 1-for-2, scored the winning run, made the best fielding play of the game, and was selected as one of the 30 young men to play in the finals. ix

The personification of persistence, he eventually became far better known for his ice hockey skills, and Mike Eruzione captained the United States Olympic team to the Gold Medal in the “Miracle on Ice” in 1980.

Do you believe in miracles? For Hundreds of Esquire, Brooklyn Against the World, and Hearst Participants in games from 1944 through 1971, the answer is a loud, resounding, “YES!”

Sources:

Books:

Peary, Danny. We Played the Game: 65 Players Remember Baseball’s Greatest Era – 1947–1964 . (New York, Hyperion, 1994)

Articles:

Royal Brougham, “Western Club Wins Esquire Boys Classic,” The Sporting News, August 21, 1946, 32.

Leonard Cohen. “Bill Pierce: Pro Ball or Medicine? Esquire Ace Undecided,” The Sporting News, August 17, 1944, 8

Andrew Dugo. “Popovich, Kuntzler Picked for Hearst All-Star Game”, Pittsburgh Sun-Telegraph, August 8, 1958, 15.

Whitney Martin. “Baseball World Against Brooklyn,” Altoona Tribune, August 7, 1946

Newspapers and Periodicals:

Brooklyn Daily Eagle

The New York Journal-American

The New York Times

The Ogden (Utah) Standard-Examiner

The Pentagraph (Bloomington, IL)

The Sporting News

Other:

Baseball-Reference.com

Interviews:

Len Merullo, Jr., 10/21/2014

i New Orleans Picayune, August 8, 1944, 8.

ii Louis Effrat, The New York Times, August 8, 1944, 12

iii Fred Young, “Neal Rates Job on Esquire Nine,” The Pantagraph (Bloomington, IL), August 5, 1945, 8

iv The Ogden Standard Examiner, May 9, 1946.

v Royal Brougham, The Sporting News, August 21, 1946, 32

vi Brooklyn Daily Eagle, August 3, 1947, 23.

vii Dugo, Pittsburgh Sun-Telegraph, August 8, 1958, 15

viii Boston Record-American, July 17, 1971, 13.

ix Kevin Mannix, Boston Record-American, August 1, 1971, 21.

Stories Of The White Sox: Farrell, Lardner, And Algren

James Hawking

The Chicago White Sox of the early twentieth century provided the inspiration and the subject matter for three of America’s greatest novelists.

James T. Farrell

For most of his youth, Farrell lived with his grandmother and a maternal uncle in several neighborhoods, all close to Comiskey Park. He attended as many as 40 White Sox games a year, sometimes even following the team to spring training. [1]

The death of Ed Walsh prompted Farrell to write about his baseball memories, such as attending the 1910 opening of the “Baseball Palace of the World.” Farrell also saw Walsh’s no-hitter on August 27, 1911, which he fictionalized in A World I Never Made . On his way to the game, Danny O’Neill walks down 35 th Street and becomes uncomfortable due to the presence of African Americans (not the term he used). A dramatic account includes an outfield collision that took Tris Speaker out of action.

Farrell also received permission to be absent from school for the first game of the 1917 World Series. In 1920 Farrell saw Joe Jackson leaving the park after the news of the Black Sox had broken and heard a fan calling out, pleading: ‘It ain’t true, Joe.’” [2]

Many years later, Farrell recounted details of the 1919 White Sox, such as “The Perfect Catcher” (Ray Schalk) and the player who was on his way to becoming the greatest third baseman ever (Buck Weaver). Eliot Asinof was amazed at how clearly Farrell remembered that team when he was encouraging Asinof to write Eight Men Out .

Ralph Kiner, a friend of Farrell’s, said Jimmy became a novelist only after he realized that he could never be the second baseman for the White Sox. While playing in a game for St. Cyril’s (today known as Mt. Carmel), Farrell struck out three times with the bases loaded, just as Danny O’Neill did in fiction. Farrell’s sandlot career included playing for the son of Sox manager Pants Rowland at Armour Square Park, the field right behind White Sox Park.

Schalk accompanied Farrell to interview Helen McCuddy, who owned the bar on 35 th Street where Babe Ruth was known to send word to have a cold one ready because it was the ninth inning. “They Called Her Ma” is a superb portrait of the woman who was a surrogate mother to Schalk and other White Sox and a hostess to generations of White Sox fans.

Farrell’s posthumous novel, Dreaming Baseball, follows the fictional Mickey Donovan, who plays on the White Sox beginning in 1918, blending with the actual Sox players and playing through the 1919 series and the subsequent decline in Sox fortunes. Donovan narrates the novel as an old man living in Florida, recalling his successful major league career.

“ And I didn’t get a raise until 1924. In 1923 the team was bad, and I was .321. But my record is in the books, and who wants to hear an old timer like myself talk about how he hit .292 and .321 and .300 when, what the hell, look at what Eddie Collins hit and look at Ty Cobb’s record, a lifetime average of .367.” [3]

White Sox players interact with Donovan both on and off the field. Guidance from Ray Schalk and Eddie Collins helps him avoid serious trouble with his marriage as a result of carousing with Babe Ruth in 1925.

Clearly Farrell got his dream of playing with the White Sox, even if only through fictional alter egos.

James T. Farrell.

Ring Lardner

Another novel blending real White Sox players with fictional characters was Ring Lardner’s justly celebrated You Know Me Al, a collection of letters by Sox pitcher Jack Keefe to a friend back in Bedford, Indiana. Keefe pitches well for the most part, but when he fails, someone else is always to blame. When Ty Cobb gets the only hit of the game off Keefe, it is because Buck Weaver didn’t come in on the ball fast enough. A poor performance is blamed on the manager who forces him to pitch with a sore arm. Hall of Fame umpire Billy Evans is responsible for other problems because “blind Evans don’t know a ball from a strike.” [4] A scorekeeper “must be McMullins brother in law (sic) or something because McMullin ought to of throwed Milan out from here to Berlin on that bunt.”

Weaver might have thrown a game away “from spitework” because he preferred one of his friends to be the team’s leading winner. Keefe is not impressed when he sees Christy Mathewson, who makes him think it must be easy to pitch in the National League. Walter Johnson has nothing but a fastball.

Lardner’s friend, White Sox Coach Kid Gleason, is always portrayed favorably. He tries to teach Keefe how to hold men on base. “I don’t think he could learn me nothing, but I promised I would go with him.” Keefe loses a 1-0 game in the tenth inning when he intentionally beans a romantic rival with the bases loaded.

Like many small town boys moving to the big city, Keefe cannot get used to the high prices, complaining about fifteen-cent lunches and the hired girl who sticks him and his wife up for $8 a week. He feels that he is underpaid and threatens to jump to the Federal League, even though he has signed a contract with the White Sox.

Sox owner Charles Comiskey resists Keefe’s demands of $5,000 a year, bargaining him down to an agreement to continue his present salary of $2,800, locking the rising star into a three-year contract with the customary ten-day release clause. Comiskey, whom Lardner also liked, is not portrayed as particularly cheap, but he does take advantage of the reserve clause.

Lardner grew up a Cubs fan in Niles, Michigan, but when he got a job as the Chicago Tribune ’s beat writer, he moved closer to the White Sox:

. . . and the Cubs, whom I had idolized all my life, became non-existent as far

as I was concerned. Ed Walsh, formerly an object of hatred, was now my hero

and soon to be my friend. [5]

Lardner also became friends with Sox pitcher Doc White. In 1909 he wrote the lyrics to White’s tune “Gee! It’s a Wonderful Game,” their attempt to supplant the recent hit “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” Lardner even wrote a poem instructing his readers on how to pronounce the name of Eddie Cicotte. “Alibi Ike,” perhaps his best known story, is set on a fictional version of the Cubs, but he was moving away from including actual players in his fiction.

Lardner covered the Sox and Cubs on a daily basis until 1913, but then he took over the Tribune ’s more general “In the Wake of the News” sports column. He still mentioned baseball but no longer on an everyday basis. The Black Sox scandal caused Lardner to withdraw from baseball, and he rarely returned to it in his fiction. His later baseball stories, written under financial pressure, never measured up to his earlier work.

Ring Lardner, one of America’s great sportswriters.

Nelson Algren

Algren’s prose poem Chicago: City on the Make, written in 1951, captures at least a part of the spirit of the city, describing the origin of the town:

Till between the waters and the wind came the marked down derelicts with the dollar signs for eyes.

Looking for any prairie portage at all that hadn’t yet built a jail. [6]

Algren relates how he moved from the South Side to North Troy Street, near the alien bleachers of Wrigley Field. With him, he carried his treasures: a Louisville Slugger Bat signed by Swede Risberg and a July 1920 program that proved he had attended a game at Comiskey Park. Defending his American League allegiance, he adopted the nickname “Swede” and sought to play shortstop.

When the scandal broke, his Cub fan tormentors pointed to Risberg’s 0-for-4 day, which included being picked off and making a wild throw. Hadn’t he known that Risberg was losing on purpose?

During the 1959 World Series, Algren wrote a newspaper piece entitled, “Go! Go! Go! Forty Years Ago,” [7] reflecting on how sure the city had been that the White Sox were going to beat Cincinnati. The occasion also brought back memories of another disaster, the 1915 capsizing of the Eastland, which killed more than 800 people.

In a piece called “Ballet for Opening Day,” Algren drew portraits of the principal characters involved in the Black Sox scandal. Joe Jackson allegedly had said he didn’t expose the scandal because he was afraid of Risberg, and “the Swede was a hard guy.”

Perhaps the best of the individual portraits was that of Weaver:

“Kid Gleason had developed him into a .300 hitter

By switching him at the plate

And into the finest fielding third baseman in either league.

His habit of grinning, while inching up on a batter

So unnerved Ty Cobb that he refused to bunt against Weaver:

The only third-baseman whose throws Cobb couldn’t outrun. [8]

The article is preceded by a quotation from Eliot Asinof, whose version of the scandal Algren largely accepts. What matters is not any rendition of the facts, but the mythic proportions of the event.

In a short story elegantly entitled “a lot you got to holler,” [9] the youthful narrator tells how he had to trade an entire strip of ten baseball pictures to get one of Joe Jackson. After the scandal became public, he needed to trade the Jackson, a Buck Weaver, and two Happy Felsches to get one of Schalk, who had been on the strip he originally traded.

“And nobody cared any more whether Ray Schalk was a good guy or a bad guy anyhow. The feeling grew that he may have been a sucker.” 1[0]

While best known for his portraits of tough and unforgiving Chicago, Algren was also a White Sox fan.

Honors, Awards and Opinions

Toward the end of his life, Farrell was honored by the American Academy of Arts and Sciences with the Emerson-Thoreau Medal, an honor he shared with writers like T.S. Eliot. 1[1] Carl Van Doren called Farrell “the American city’s truest historian.” 1[2]

No less a critic than Virginia Woolf said that Lardner had written “some of the best prose that has come our way. 1[3] V.S. Pritchett said “. . . the specifically American contribution to literature is ‘talk,’ and that it began with Ring.” 1[4]

Hemingway ranked Algren as the second greatest American writer of the century, behind only Faulkner. 1[5] In all, the White Sox may have inspired more great American writers than any other baseball team.

1^1 Landers, Robert K. An Honest Writer: The Life and Times of James T. Farrell . Encounter Books: San Francisco, 2004.

2^2 Farrell, James T. A Baseball Diary . Southern Illinois University Press: Carbondale, 1998, p. 106.

3^3 Farrell, James. Dreaming Baseball . Kent State University Press: Kent, Ohio, 2007. p. 287.

4^4 Hilton, George W. (editor). The Annotated Baseball Stories of Ring Lardner: 1914- 1919 . Stanford: Stanford, California, 1995.

5 Yardley, Jonathan. Ring: A Biography of Ring Lardner . Random House, 1977. p. 26.

5 Yardley, Jonathan, Ring: A Biography of Ring Lardner, New York: Random House, 1977, 26.

6^6 Algren, Nelson. Chicago: City on the Make . University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1987.

7^7 Algren, Nelson. The Last Carousel . Putnam’s: New York, 1973.

8^8 Ibid., pp 268-298.

9^9 Algren, Nelson. Neon Wilderness . Hill and Wang: New York, 1960.

0 10 ibid. p. 110.

1 11 Landers, op. cit. p. 421.

2 12 Fanning, Charles. “Introduction” to A World I Never Made . University of Illinois, Urbana, 2007.

3 13 Yardley, op. cit. p. 170.

4 14 ibid., p. 391.

5 15 Asher, Colin, “But Never a Lovely So Real.” The Believer, January 2013.

Curse of the Billy Goat: An Adaptive Coping Strategy for Cubs Fans

Jeremy Ashton Houska, Ph.D.

Researchers in the social sciences who have investigated the effects of sports fandom acknowledge the positive impacts of team allegiances on psychological health.1 Classic studies in social psychology have demonstrated that fans will bask in the reflected glory of a winning team by making others aware of their affiliation with it^2, or will, conversely, distance themselves from a losing team^3.

Fans employ these processes of image enhancement and protection (Basking in Reflected Glory, or “BIRGing” and Cutting off Reflected Failure, or “CORFing”) in order to maintain their mood, self-esteem, and social capital.

Some research suggests that highly identified, or “die-hard,” fans engage in these strategies more frequently than less identified, casual fans^4; other studies, however, find that CORFing is not an option for the staunchest fans^5.

When their favorite team performs poorly, sports fans can maintain their psychological health by modifying their association with the team^6. While the processes of associating and distancing from sports teams has been examined in a number of contexts, fewer studies have been conducted on fans’ beliefs in whether a team is somehow “cursed.” Moreover, belief in an external cause of failure is adaptive; belief in a curse can serve as a buffer against negative emotions associated with a team’s shortcomings.

Two of the most well-known sports curses have implicated the Boston Red Sox (“The Curse of the Bambino”) and the Chicago Cubs (“The Curse of the Billy Goat”)7. Beliefs in team curses are highly publicized in the media^8, and fans even go to great (and disturbing) lengths in their attempts to reverse curses^9. Less understood, though, is the nature of these beliefs and the purposes they can serve for fans. Few researchers in sport psychology have studied beliefs in team curses; an exception is Daniel Wann and Len Zaichkowsky’s work on fans’ perceptions of the Red Sox curse^10.

Wann and Zaichkowsky hypothesized that highly identified Red Sox fans would be more apt to utilize the Curse of the Bambino as a coping strategy than would less serious fans. Their rationale is that it is easier for fans to attribute a loss to a curse rather than blame players, the manager, or the front office for poor performance.

Data from Wann and Zaichkowsky’s (2009) study revealed three key trends. First, those fans who believed in luck and magic tended to believe in the Curse of the Bambino; second, those with a high sense of baseball fandom (regardless of beliefs in mysticism or team identification with the Red Sox) also reported increasing belief in the curse. Third, and most notably, the level of team identification accounted for the greatest variance in curse beliefs. That is to say, people who most strongly identified as Red Sox fans were most likely to believe in the Curse. Baseball fans will note that the Boston Red Sox’ 2004 World Series victory^11 put an end to this curse.

The current study^12 examined Cubs fans’ beliefs in the still-active Curse of the Billy Goat. In particular, this research addressed the possibility that sports curses serve a mood-enhancing function. Sports fans, one reasons, should be in a more positive mood if they can blame losses and poor performance on an outside force. It was hypothesized that highly identified Cubs fans presented with information about the Curse of the Billy Goat (i.e., the Curse Salience condition) would exhibit a less negative mood state than those highly identified fans who did not receive information about the Curse (i.e., No Curse condition).

This experiment employed a pre-test/post-test control group design. Participants were randomly assigned to a treatment group (Curse Salience condition) or a control group (No Curse condition) by the experimenter. Participants included 119 undergraduate students at Concordia University—Chicago (River Forest, IL), who took part in this study for psychology research credits or course extra credit. All participants went through the informed consent process and completed Peter Terry and colleagues’ (1999) Profile of Mood States for Adolescents (POMS-A)13.

This initial assessment of participant mood with the POMS-A (“Time 1 Mood State”) was taken for two reasons. First, these pre-test data determined whether any of the participants’ moods were unusually positive or extremely negative. Extreme moods would affect subsequent stages of the study. No outliers were observed in the data^14. Second, these pre-test data determined whether systematic differences in mood existed between the two groups. The treatment group (Curse Salience) did not differ significantly from the control group (No Curse). See the Figure for a graphic depiction of the Time 1 Mood ratings. It was then concluded that any observed differences in mood at Time 2 could be attributed to conditions of the study.

Next, participants were presented an 18-item Baseball Fan Survey consisting of open-ended and Likert-type items on a seven-point scale (1 = strongly disagree, 7 = strongly agree). Survey subscales included Degree of Cubs Fandom (measured by number of years watching Major League Baseball and the Chicago Cubs, number of Cubs games viewed on television/ heard on radio, and number of Cubs players on one’s fantasy baseball team), and Identification with the Cubs items patterned after Daniel Wann and Nyla Branscombe’s Sport Spectator Identification Scale (1993)15 (e.g., “How strongly do you see yourself as a fan of the Chicago Cubs?” “I like the Chicago White Sox”). In addition, a Superstition subscale was created by adapting items from Tobacyk and Milford’s (1983) Paranormal Scale^16.

Participants either received information about the Cubs’ performance that blamed the Curse of the Billy Goat (Curse Salience condition) or information that provided no mention of it (No Curse condition).

Key to this research study is that one experimental condition made the Curse of the Billy Goat salient to participants and the other did not. Participants randomly assigned to the Curse Salience condition read that the Curse of the Billy Goat explains why the Cubs have neither won a World Series since 1908 nor even played in one since 1945. Participants also read that this is the longest drought in Major League Baseball. The Cubs performance data were then presented for two time periods: from 1876–1945 and 1946–2009. The former period was emphasized as “Pre-Curse” and the latter “Post-Curse.” An additional sheet outlined the history of the curse, beginning with Billy Sianis and his goat Murphy’s ejection from Wrigley Field prior to Game 4 of the 1945 World Series. The Curse of the Billy Goat Timeline ended with the Cubs being swept by the Los Angeles Dodgers in the 2008 National League Division Series.

Cubs owner P.K. Wrigley and first baseman Charley Grimm pose in 1934 with….a goat. If only they had known.

Participants in the No Curse condition also read information about the performance of the Cubs franchise. It was reported that the Cubs had not won a World Series since 1908 nor returned since 1945 and that these are the longest such droughts in Major League Baseball. Performance data were then presented for two time periods: from 1876–1945 and 1946–2009. There was no mention made of a Curse of the Billy Goat, or of such a curse’s history.

Immediately after reading the information in the Curse Salience or No Curse condition, participants completed Peter Terry and colleagues’ (1999) Profile of Mood States for Adolescents an additional time. This second assessment of participant mood (“Time 2 Mood State”) would test whether participants who read about the Curse would exhibit a more positive mood state than those who were presented Cubs performance data alone.

Finally, participants were given a full oral debriefing by the experimenter, had all their questions answered to their satisfaction, and left the laboratory.

Results revealed that higher levels of superstition were associated with stronger beliefs in the Curse of the Billy Goat. This finding is consistent with Wann and Zaichkowsky’s (2009) data on the Curse of the Bambino. It makes sense that people who believe in magic and mystical phenomena would also believe that Billy Sianis’ curse on the franchise has prevented the Cubs from returning to the postseason. Additionally, highly identified Cubs fans in the Curse Salience condition reported a less negative mood state relative to highly identified Cubs fans in the No Curse condition. This difference was statistically significant. See the Figure for a graphic depiction of the Time 2 Mood State^17. Because no statistically reliable differences in mood ratings existed between the groups at Time 1, there is greater confidence in the study conditions and interpretation of the results. It was concluded that this laboratory study effectively evoked frustration and disappointment within participants in the No Curse group and less negative emotions in participants in the Curse Salience group.

In sum, these findings on the Curse of the Billy Goat replicate past research conducted on the Curse of the Bambino^18 and are consistent with the notion that sports curses are used as a coping strategy^19. These findings suggest that die-hard Cubs fans may point (either playfully or seriously) toward Billy Sianis and his goat after a heartbreaking loss instead of the club’s inconsistent pitching staff, anemic lineup, poor management, or just an untimely error. Research in the social psychology of sport reminds us that fans will not distance themselves from their beloved team for long^20. Instead, Cubs fans shift their causal attributions from the players, manager, and front office to a goat. And this strategy is adaptive.

Notes

1. Daniel L. Wann, “Understanding the Positive Social Psychological Benefits of Sport Team Identification: The Team Identification-Social Psychological Health Model,” Group Dynamics: Theory, Research, and Practice 10 (2006): 272-296.

2. Robert B. Cialdini, Richard J. Borden, Avril Thorne, Marcus Randall Walker, Stephen Freeman, and Lloyd Reynolds Sloan, “Basking in Reflected Glory: Three (Football) Field Studies,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 34 (1976): 366-375.

3. C.R. Snyder, MaryAnne Lassegard, and Carol E. Ford, “Distancing After Group Success and Failure: Basking in Reflected Glory and Cutting Off Reflected Failure,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 51 (1986): 382-388.

4. Angela Ware and Gregory S. Kowalski, “Sex Identification and the Love of Sports: BIRGing and CORFing Among Sports Fans,” Journal of Sport Behavior 35 (2012): 223-237.

5. Daniel L. Wann and Nyla R. Branscombe, “Die-Hard and Fair-Weather Fans: Effects of Identification on BIRGing and CORFing Tendencies,” Journal of Sport and Social Issues 14 (1990): 103-117.

6. Daniel L. Wann, Merrill J. Melnick, Gordon W. Russell, and Dale G. Pease, Sport Fans: The Psychology and Social Impact of Spectators (New York, NY: Routledge).

7. For more on the Curse of the Billy Goat, see Gil Bogen, The Billy Goat Curse: Losing and Superstition in Cubs Baseball Since World War II (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2009), and Randy Roberts and Carson Cunningham, eds., Before the Curse: The Chicago Cubs’ Glory Years, 1870-1945 (Champaign, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2012).

8. Tom Weir, “What the ‘Hex’ is Going on?” USA Today, October 16, 2003.

9. Ben Brumfield, “Curses! Goat’s Head Found at Wrigley Field” CNN.com, last modified April 11, 2013, http://www.cnn.com/2013/04/11/justice/chicago-goat-curse/index.html.

10. Daniel L. Wann and Len Zaichkowsky, “Sport Team Identification and Belief in Team Curses: The Case of the Boston Red Sox and the Curse of the Bambino,” Journal of Sport Behavior 32 (2009): 489-502.

11. Mike Dodd, “Finally! Red Sox win World Series,” USA Today, October 27, 2004.

12. Portions of this research were presented at the 83rd Annual Meeting of the Midwestern Psychological Association, Chicago, Illinois, May 2011.

13. Peter C. Terry, Andrew M. Lane, Helen J. Lane, and Lee Keohane, “Development and Validation of a Mood Measure for Adolescents,” Journal of Sports Sciences 17 (1999): 861-872.

14. Van Selst and Jolicoeur’s (1994) z-score criterion for outlier exclusion was used.

15. Daniel L. Wann and Nyla R. Branscombe, “Sports Fans: Measuring Degree of Identification with the Team,” International Journal of Sport Psychology 24 (1993): 1-17.

16. Jerome Tobacyk and Gary Milford, “Belief in Paranormal Phenomena: Assessment Instrument Development and Implications for Personality Functioning,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 44 (1983): 1029-1037.

17. See the bar graph for a graphic depiction of mood states for participants in the Curse Salience and No Curse conditions.

18. Daniel L. Wann and Len Zaichkowsky, “Sport Team Identification and Belief in Team Curses: The Case of the Boston Red Sox and the Curse of the Bambino,” Journal of Sport Behavior 32 (2009): 489-502.

19. Daniel L. Wann, “Understanding the Positive Social Psychological Benefits of Sport Team Identification: The Team Identification-Social Psychological Health Model,” Group Dynamics: Theory, Research, and Practice 10 (2006): 272-296

20. Aharon Bizman and Yoel Yinon, “Engaging in Distancing Tactics Among Sports Fans: Effects on Self-Esteem and Emotional Responses,” The Journal of Social Psychology 142 (2002): 381-392.

Bibliography

Aharon Bizman and Yoel Yinon, “Engaging in Distancing Tactics Among Sports Fans: Effects on Self-Esteem and Emotional Responses,” The Journal of Social Psychology 142 (2002): 381-392.

Gil Bogen, The Billy Goat Curse: Losing and Superstition in Cubs Baseball Since World War II (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2009).

Ben Brumfield, “Curses! Goat’s Head Found at Wrigley Field” CNN.com, last modified April 11, 2013, http://www.cnn.com/2013/04/11/justice/chicago-goat-curse/index.html

Robert B. Cialdini, Richard J. Borden, Avril Thorne, Marcus Randall Walker, Stephen Freeman, and Lloyd Reynolds Sloan, “Basking in Reflected Glory: Three (Football) Field Studies,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 34 (1976): 366-375.

Mike Dodd, “Finally! Red Sox win World Series,” USA Today, October 27, 2004.

Randy Roberts and Carson Cunningham, eds., Before the Curse: The Chicago Cubs’ Glory Years, 1870-1945 (Champaign, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2012).

C.R. Snyder, MaryAnne Lassegard, and Carol E. Ford, “Distancing After Group Success and Failure: Basking in Reflected Glory and Cutting Off Reflected Failure,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 51 (1986): 382-388.

Peter C. Terry, Andrew M. Lane, Helen J. Lane, and Lee Keohane, “Development and Validation of a Mood Measure for Adolescents,” Journal of Sports Sciences 17 (1999): 861-872.

Jerome Tobacyk and Gary Milford, “Belief in Paranormal Phenomena: Assessment Instrument Development and Implications for Personality Functioning,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 44 (1983): 1029-1037.

Mark Van Selst and Pierre Jolicoeur, “A solution to the effect of sample size on outlier

Estimation,” The Quarterly Journal of Experimental Psychology, Section A: Human

Experimental Psychology 47 (1994): 631-650.

Daniel L. Wann, “Understanding the Positive Social Psychological Benefits of Sport Team Identification: The Team Identification-Social Psychological Health Model,” Group Dynamics: Theory, Research, and Practice 10 (2006): 272-296

Daniel L. Wann and Nyla R. Branscombe, “Die-Hard and Fair-Weather Fans: Effects of Identification on BIRGing and CORFing Tendencies,” Journal of Sport and Social Issues 14 (1990): 103-117.

Daniel L. Wann and Nyla R. Branscombe, “Sports Fans: Measuring Degree of Identification with the Team,” International Journal of Sport Psychology 24 (1993): 1-17.

Daniel L. Wann, Merrill J. Melnick, Gordon W. Russell, and Dale G. Pease, Sport Fans: The Psychology and Social Impact of Spectators (New York, NY: Routledge).

Daniel L. Wann and Len Zaichkowsky, “Sport Team Identification and Belief in Team Curses: The Case of the Boston Red Sox and the Curse of the Bambino,” Journal of Sport Behavior 32 (2009): 489-502.

Angela Ware and Gregory S. Kowalski, “Sex Identification and the Love of Sports: BIRGing and CORFing Among Sports Fans,” Journal of Sport Behavior 35 (2012): 223-237.

Tom Weir, “What the ‘Hex’ is Going on?” USA Today, October 16, 2003.

Of Black Sox, Ball Yards, and Monty Stratton: Chicago Baseball Movies

Rob Edelman

Once upon a time, A.J. Liebling, consummate Manhattanite and writer for The New Yorker, dubbed Chicago America’s Second City. 1 But in relation to New York-centric baseball movies, this AAA-league rating is extremely generous. Across the decades, baseball films with Chicago references have been relatively scarce. For every onscreen image of Wrigley Field, there are scores set inside or just outside Yankee Stadium. For any one Hollywood biopic highlighting a Chicago player— The Stratton Story, from 1949, comes to mind—a dozen chart the lives of Lou Gehrig, Jackie Robinson, Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, and especially Babe Ruth.

The majority of Chicago-set baseball films have included (and occasionally showcased) the Cubs. Among them are Joe E. Brown’s Elmer, the Great (1933) and Alibi Ike (1935), the Grover Cleveland Alexander biopic The Winning Team (1952), the Dizzy Dean biopic The Pride of St. Louis (1952), and the family comedy-fantasy Rookie of the Year (1993). Sometimes, a fictional Chicago club is depicted. One example is Boulevardier from the Bronx (1936), an eight-minute Warner Bros. cartoon featuring the exploits of the Chicago Giants, whose star pitcher—a rooster—is named Dizzy Dan. (At the time, Dizzy Dean still was pitching in St. Louis; he did not join the Cubs until 1938.)

The town’s other big league nine has not been completely shut out onscreen. But it should surprise no one that two of the highest-profile Chisox films spotlight the Black Sox scandal, and are worth comparing because they offer vastly different points of view. Eight Men Out (1988), based on the Eliot Asinof book, is one movie about baseball history that does not glorify its subjects. The Sox are portrayed in ensemble style as a rowdy, hard-playing bunch, easily the best major league team of the era. As depicted by director-writer John Sayles, however, they are also victims, oppressed as much by jowly Charles “The Old Roman” Comiskey (Clifton James), the team’s penny-pinching owner, as by underworld kingpin Arnold Rothstein (Michael Lerner).

Meanwhile, Field of Dreams (1989), adapted from W.P. Kinsella’s novel, deals with the Black Sox from a wholly different perspective. Field of Dreams is the It’s a Wonderful Life of baseball movies, a wistful fantasy about love, hope, and the timelessness of the game. Here, the defamed ballplayers are restored to their glory when their spirits come to play in an eternal, pastoral ball field. Their sins are not dramatized and, consequently, an idealized vision of American innocence is recaptured.

Eight Men Out is deeply cynical. At one point, Eddie Cicotte (David Strathairn) observes: “I always figured it was talent made a man big, you know... I mean, we’re the guys they come to see. Without us, there ain’t a ballgame…but look at who’s holding the money and look at who’s facing a jail cell. Talent don’t mean nothing.” A heckler yells at Shoeless Joe: “Hey, Jackson! Can you spell ‘cat’?” Jackson (D.B. Sweeney) retorts: “Hey, Mister! Can you spell ‘shit’?”

In the nostalgia-tinged Field of Dreams, however, Shoeless Joe (Ray Liotta) utters Interesting? Yes No “Man, I did love this game. I’d have played for food money” and “I used to love travelling on the trains from town to town. The hotels... brass spittoons in the lobbies, brass beds in the rooms. It was the crowd, rising to their feet when the ball was hit deep. Shoot, I’d play for nothing!”

Various non-baseball films also reference the scandal. In The Godfather: Part II (1974), gangster Hyman Roth (Lee Strasberg) declares: “I loved baseball ever since Arnold Rothstein fixed the World Series in 1919.” F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel The Great Gatsby, filmed four times (in 1926, 1949, 1974, and 2013) and as a 2000 made-for-TV movie, includes the character Meyer Wolfsheim, said to have fixed the series and clearly based on Rothstein. In the 1926 film, the character is named “Charles Wolf.” In the 1949 version, he is “Myron Lupus.”

The disparate depictions of real-life ballplayers in Eight Men Out and Field of Dreams serve to emphasize that films featuring real-life individuals offer the subjective views of their creators. They also usually present skewed representations of history. Sometimes, inaccuracies result from sloppy scholarship; more often, they exist to keep the storyline lean and comprehensible. 2 Both are the case in The Stratton Story, a biopic about White Sox hurler Monty Stratton.

Sox owner Charlie Comiskey, “The Old Roman,” a major force behind the sad events of 1919.

The real Stratton, a Texas farm boy, was in 1937-38 a promising major league pitcher. But in November 1938, while target-shooting on his mother’s farm, he shot at a rabbit and his revolver accidently discharged while returning it to its holster. The bullet severed the femoral artery in his right leg, gangrene soon set in, and the leg was amputated above the knee. 3

Though Stratton played for the Pale Hose in the 1930s—specific years and dates are not cited in the screenplay— The Stratton Story, made in 1949, is more a reflection of post-World War II America. Douglas Morrow, who earned an Academy Award for the film’s story and scripted it with Guy Trosper, had attended a game at the Sawtelle Soldiers Home, a Southern California facility for disabled GIs. “Seeing the armless and legless spectators, Morrow had the desire to find a film story that would give them hope,” wrote film industry reporter-biographer Bob Thomas. “He thought the story should be divorced from the war. Then he remembered Monte [sic] Stratton.” 4

Stratton is played in the film by James Stewart. The ex-big leaguer was the film’s technical advisor and coached Stewart on the art of pitching. He noted that the actor “did a great job playing me, in a picture which I figure was about as true to life as they could make it.” 5 Despite this hype, however, The Stratton Story is loaded with misinformation. In an effort to ensure narrative clarity, none of Stratton’s siblings are present onscreen and only two of the five seasons he spent in Chicago are represented. The hurler played in the minors in Omaha and Galveston (in 1934) and St. Paul (1935), yet only Omaha is cited in the script.

Other changes are historical revisions designed to make the scenario more acceptable to viewers. In the film, Stratton shoots himself with a hunting rifle rather than a revolver. The film ends with his return to the sport in a Houston exhibition pitting the “Southern All-Stars” and “Western All-Stars,” but he really did so in a White Sox-Cubs charity game, held in Comiskey Park, organized to raise money for him.

Other “facts” also reflect the 1940s rather than 1930s. One example: Stratton’s comeback game took place in 1939. In the film, his mound opponent is Gene Bearden, who did not pitch in the majors until 1947. The last batter he faces is Johnny Lindell, whose first big league appearance was a one-game looksee in 1941. Still others are even less explicable. When Stratton is recalled from the minors, a Clark Gable-Lana Turner film, Honky Tonk, is screening in a movie theatre. The film was released in 1941, three years after Stratton threw his last major league pitch.

Perhaps the most egregious error involves Stratton’s major league debut on June 2, 1934. This was his lone big league appearance that season, coming against the Detroit Tigers, and Stratton surrendered four hits and two runs in 3 1/3 innings. Stratton entered the game with two outs in the sixth inning, relieving Phil Gallivan. Hank Greenberg had just walked and promptly stole second on Stratton. Jo-Jo White then lined out to left field. 6

In The Stratton Story, the hurler comes in to pitch in relief against the New York Yankees. “Dickey, DiMaggio, Gehrig. You can’t power past them, kid,” Barney Wile (Frank Morgan), Stratton’s fictional onscreen mentor, advises the hurler. “If you’re gonna get by,” Wile adds, “you gotta out-think ‘em, cross ‘em up, give ‘em what they don’t expect.” (According to the Chicago Daily Tribune, the real-life Wile was “Jockie Tate, a former Texas leaguer, who always had a blank contract handy in case something good suddenly turned up.” 7 )

Wile’s advice may be sound, but what follows is pure fiction. The first batter Stratton faces is Bill Dickey (appearing as himself). The Bombers’ backstop homers on Stratton’s first pitch. (Stratton allowed no round-trippers in his actual debut.) Also included in the sequence is stock footage of Joe DiMaggio belting a dinger and circling the bases. There is a catch, however: The Yankee Clipper did not debut in the majors until 1936.

So Monty Stratton’s real debut was not nearly as disastrous as depicted in The Stratton Story. The question is: Why rewrite history? Simply put, having Stratton face Hall of Famer Dickey and the New York nine is more dramatically potent than having him pitch to Jo-Jo White.

The Yankees’ success also allowed for some repartee that surely would have delighted George Steinbrenner. Stratton tells his wife, “Honey, do you know there’s a tailor in Chicago that gives a suit of clothes away to any ballplayer that hits the scoreboard in center field? As of yesterday the New York Yankees are the best-dressed team in baseball.”

In June 1948, during the film’s pre-production, Roy Rowland—assigned to direct The Stratton Story— shot footage of the White Sox at Comiskey Park. By the time filming began, Sam Wood had replaced Rowland. Meanwhile, the Hollywood Reporter announced that Gregory Peck would be playing Stratton while Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, the studio producing the film, hyped Van Johnson for the part. But in the end, Stewart got the role.

The studio also reported that 72 pro ballplayers appeared onscreen. Many were at one point or another affiliated with Chicago teams; the list begins with Merv Shea, Hank Sauer, Peanuts Lowrey, Catfish Metkovich, Gene Mauch, Tuck Stainback, Lou Novikoff, Bobby Sturgeon, Steve Mesner, Lou Stringer, Red Kress, Al Zarilla, and Gus Zernial. Most significantly, Jimmy Dykes, who became the Sox player-manager fifteen games into the 1934 season and helmed the team into the 1946 campaign, appears as himself. Of Stratton’s teammates, Ted Lyons has the most screen time, but the real Lyons is not in the film. Instead, he is played by actor Bruce Cowling. 8 Legend has it that Ronald Reagan, who three years later played Pete Alexander in The Winning Team, desperately wanted the Stratton role. But he was under contract with Warner Bros., which refused to lend him to MGM. 9

Across the years, other real-life Chicago ballplayers have appeared onscreen. The Giants-White Sox Tour (1914) is the first notable feature-length documentary to spotlight big leaguers. Variety, the motion picture trade publication, described it as a “long reeled picture of the baseball players’ trip around the world the past winter... with here and there snatches of a baseball game played between the natives and the teams in foreign countries. The well-known ballplayers who went along are shown individually at different times, with Germany Schaefer always in the foreground whenever the camera was working...” 10 (Schaefer had played for the Chicago Orphans [aka the Cubs] in 1901 and 1902.)

Some onscreen Chicago ballplayers are more obscure: Frank Shellenback, Ray French, and Smead Jolley had small roles in Alibi Ike ; Shellenback also appeared in Joe E. Brown’s Fireman, Save My Child (1932). Others are Hall of Famers; Ernie Banks has appeared in over a dozen feature films, television movies, and television series. (He was billed as “Steamer Fan” in Pastime [1990], a baseball film, and played a cabbie in a 1985 Hill Street Blues episode.) A highlight reel of other Cooperstown inductees with Chicago connections begins with Rube Waddell, who pitched for the Chicago Orphans in 1901 and appeared as himself in the documentary shorts Rube Waddell and the Champions Playing Ball with the Boston Team (1902) and Game of Base Ball (1903); Leo Durocher, who managed the Cubs from 1966-72 and was seen in Whistling in Brooklyn (1943), The Errand Boy (1961), and such TV series as Mister Ed, The Munsters, and The Beverly Hillbillies ; and Frank Thomas, who played The Rookie in Mr. Baseball (1992). 11

Some films have actually featured the ballparks themselves. In this regard, Wrigley Field far outweighs Old Comiskey Park and its successor as onscreen locations or references. (Wrigley Field Chicago should not be confused with Wrigley Field in Los Angeles, built in 1925. Besides serving as a Pacific Coast League park, it was a playground for exhibition games featuring Tinseltown celebs. Countless films and TV shows were shot there, from the Babe Ruth feature Babe Comes Home [1927] through “The Mighty Casey,” a 1960 Twilight Zone episode, the Home Run Derby TV show, and “Herman the Rookie,” a 1965 installment of The Munsters .) 12

An infinitesimal number of films feature on-location images of Old Comiskey. But one—a non-baseball film—is extra-special. Only the Lonely (1991) includes a sequence shot not long after the 1990 season, just prior to the park’s demolition. The hero is a Chicago cop (John Candy) who shares his first date with the woman he is courting by taking her to Old Comiskey, where they share an on-field picnic.

The then-new ball yard briefly appears, but the focus is on the soon-to-disappear park, which is paid homage via the line, “Boy, it’s a shame they’re gonna tear this all down.” The sequence reportedly was filmed on a Friday, with the demolition beginning the following week. Jacolyn J. Baker, an Only the Lonely location manager, described it as “a special night,” adding: “Everybody knew that this was going to be the last time anybody would be in Comiskey Park... In between takes, people were playing catch on the field. You felt that this was about to be taken away. It was really special.” 13

Wrigley Field’s iconic status has more than occasionally been celebrated onscreen. The Chicago location of While You Were Sleeping ( 1995), a Sandra Bullock-Bill Pullman romantic comedy-drama, is established via a series of city landmarks. One, of course, is The Friendly Confines, as much a symbol of its town as Yankee Stadium is to New York. In Sleepless in Seattle (1993), baseball is a byword for romance, a loving family, and bliss. As the film opens, Sam Baldwin (Tom Hanks), a Chicago architect, has just lost his wife to cancer. As Sam mourns the loss of his beloved, there is a split-second flashback to a memory of a happier time as he, his late wife, and their young son pose outside Wrigley Field.

The first onscreen image in The Break-Up (2006) is a long shot of Wrigley during a game. The second is the red-and-white Wrigley sign. Die-hard Cubs fan Gary Grobowski (Vince Vaughn) is in the stands, and he rests his face in his hands in agony as a fly ball drops between three Cubs fielders. His pal Johnny O (Jon Favreau), who is garbed in White Sox regalia, laughs hysterically.

One of the more celebrated Wrigley references occurs in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986), in which the title character (Matthew Broderick), a high school senior, cons most of the world into thinking he is deathly ill so that he can skip school. Ferris is joined by his girlfriend and best pal and the trio spends a day enjoying Chicago’s amenities. How could the afternoon pass without a Wrigley visit?

Ferris’ main nemesis is Ed Rooney (Jeffrey Jones), the pompous school dean determined to bust him. Rooney happens to be inside a pizza parlor and beside a TV set on which the Cubs contest is being broadcast. The home nine are in the field, the inimitable voice of Harry Caray notes that Lee Smith is on the mound, and the unnamed batter hits a long foul ball into the leftfield stands. Who do you suppose nabs it? None other than Ferris Bueller! But Rooney is oblivious. He asks the score and is told “nothing-nothing.” His doltishness is ever-apparent by his next question: “Who’s winning?” The not-amused pizza man tells him, “The Bears.”

Not all screen characters seeing a live Cubs game actually do so inside the park. About Last Night... (1986), a romantic drama based on David Mamet’s play Sexual Perversity in Chicago, is framed by softball games in Grant Park during successive summers in which Danny (Rob Lowe), the hero, and Debbie (Demi Moore), the heroine, meet and then become reacquainted after breaking up. In between, they watch a Cubs game not from Wrigley but from a nearby rooftop, where they can be alone. About Last Night... also features a peek into what some women might discuss at ballgames. Debbie and her pal Joan (Elizabeth Perkins) are chatting, and Debbie observes: “That second baseman’s got a really nice ass.” To which Joan responds: “I refuse to go out with a man whose ass is smaller than mine.”

In Hardball (2001), aimless Conor O’Neill (Keanu Reeves) finds direction in coaching pre-teen Little Leaguers from the Cabrini-Green housing project. At one point, Conor escorts the kids to a Cubs game. The boys are close enough to the field to attract the attention of what then was a premier Cubbie. “Yo, check it out,” one of the boys yells to his pals. “That’s Sammy Sosa over there... right there.” Alas, another boy points out that it is not Sammy, and the Sosa spotter is dissed by his pals. But then he spots the real Sosa, garbed in a warm-up jacket and wielding a bat. Quickly, the kids grab Sammy’s attention. He smiles, kisses his fingers, moves them to his heart, and shoots them a “V” for victory. The music swells on the soundtrack, and the boys are in baseball heaven.

Not only is The Blues Brothers (1980) among the higher-profile Chicago-set films of recent decades, it also features a baseball reference that is the equivalent of a grand-slam homer. At one point, the brothers Jake (John Belushi) and Elwood (Dan Aykroyd) elude the police but are not trouble-free; Jake points out to Elwood, “Those cops have your name, your address...” But not to worry. As Elwood explains: “They don’t got my address. I falsified my renewal. I put down 1060 West Addison.”

Surely, those cops are not real Chicagoans; if they were, they would not need Elwood Blues to tell them: “1060 West Addison. That’s Wrigley Field.”

FOOTNOTES

1 J. Weintraub. “Why They Call It the Second City.” Chicago Reader, July 29, 1993.

2 Rob Edelman. “The Winning Team: Fact and Fiction in Celluloid Biographies.” The National Pastime, Number 26, 2006.

3 “Stratton’s Leg Amputated Above Knee.” Chicago Daily Tribune, November 29, 1938.

4 Bob Thomas. “Hollywood Highlights.” Spokane Daily Chronicle, February 24, 1948.

5 “Monty Stratton, 70, Pitcher Who Inspired Movie, Is Dead.” The New York Times, September 30, 1982.

6 http://www.retrosheet.org/

7 Irving Vaughan. “Plowboy to Mound Ace Is Story of Stratton’s Career.” Chicago Daily Tribune, November 29, 1938.

8 Patricia King Hanson, Executive Editor, American Film Institute Catalog of Motion Pictures Produced in the United States, Feature Films, 1941-1950, Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California Press, 1999.

9 “Monty Stratton, 70, Pitcher Who Inspired Movie, Is Dead.” The New York Times, September 30, 1982.

10 Rob Edelman. “The Baseball Film to 1920.” Base Ball: A Journal of the Early Game. Volume 1, Number 1, 2007.

11 http://www.imdb.com /

12 https://www.wikipedia.org/

13 Michael Corcoran, Arnie Bernstein. Hollywood on Lake Michigan . Chicago: Chicago Review Press, 2013.

Memories That Will Never Go-Go

Francis Kinlaw

“This is the Cubs’ town,” said the man over beers,

When we talked in the Nixon years;

We discussed Chicago’s teams, tossed names we both knew,

In an exercise best named “recall and review.”

He had loved the Cubs all his life, less so the Pale Hose,

While lamenting, to varying degrees, both teams’ woes;

He politely gave lip service to Wynn, Pierce, and Shaw

To maintain a desired conversational thaw.

For me, those three names held a special allure,

Long after the pitchers had caused such a stir;

The ’59 Sox were a team to embrace

When they disposed of the Yanks and captured first place.

His opinions ranked low on the list of my cares,

For I had enjoyed each of Veeck’s scoreboard flares;

As the men of Comiskey, whose speed was revered,

Were applauded, praised, heralded, lustily cheered.

The term “Go-Go Sox” meant a team that was quick

Though some players weren’t fast, and some hit not a lick;

Big Klu and Sherm Lollar were slow on their feet,

But watching them play was always a treat.

“Little Louie” and Nellie, a slick DP combo,

Ended many a frame with a catch, toss and throw;

The hot corner was Bubba’s, while Landis chased flies,

Plucking spheres of horsehide out of the skies.

Flanking Landis were Smith and unique “Jungle Jim,”

Torgeson and Goodman hit when things looked grim;

Dick Donovan and Latman took the mound for key starts

Lown and Staley nipped rallies, breaking enemy hearts.

In the dugout Al Lopez, often called “The Señor,”

Hoped for better than his Tribe had done five years before;

But the skipper was sadly denied the big prize:

After six games with the Dodgers, he’d again agonize.

But AL fanatics are resilient types,

(Necessarily so, unless their team wears pinstripes!)

White Sox fans bounced back and my spirits did, too…

And the memories --- ah, the memories --- I have quite a few!

Chicago Goes Hollywood: The Cubs, Wrigley Field, and Popular Culture

David Krell

Chicago is a city of icons.

A hotbed of popular culture, the Windy City owns a curriculum vitae rarely paralleled concerning characters, real and fictional, responsible for defining the American experience.

Al Capone rose to kingpin status in Chicago’s underworld during Prohibition in the 1920s. His was a household name, a celebrity status recognizable nearly a century later as a description—or an exaggeration—of the criminal persona.

Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert birthed film criticism to the masses with their newspaper columns and syndicated television program offering insight, banter, and approval (or disapproval) signified by a thumbs-up/thumbs down paradigm.

Catherine O’Leary’s cow, according to Chicago folklore, kicked over a lantern in 1871 while being milked in a barn, sparking a fire that consumed everything in its path. In the chronicle of natural disasters, it’s on par with the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.

Baseball, too, offers fertile territory for Chicago popular culture, especially those myths, legends, and tales involving the Cubs. Superstition, for example, dictates that a curse hovers over Wrigley Field, the Cubs’ home, sourced from an incident during Game Four of the 1945 World Series. William “Billy Goat” Sianis, owner of the famed Billy Goat Tavern, entered Wrigley Field with his pet goat Murphy and even paraded him through the box seat section before being ejected shortly after the game began. The Cubs had informed the well-known Sianis before the Series that the presence of a goat would not be tolerated. An appeal to Cubs owner P.K. Wrigley failed. “Because the goat stinks,” Wrigley explained. Sianis, in turn, prompted a curse. “The Cubs ain’t gonna win no more. The Cubs will never win a World Series so long as the goat is not allowed in Wrigley Field.”[i] The Cubs have not won a World Series since.

In 1997, Chicago newspaper columnist Mike Royko—a Windy City newspaper institution—denounced the curse as the reason for the Cubs’ absence from the World Series since Harry S. Truman was President of the United States. Rather, Cubs owner P.K. Wrigley deserves the blame, according to Royko. The columnist’s key reason was the team’s lateness in signing black players. Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier on April 15, 1947, but Ernie Banks debuted as the Cubs’ first black player on September 17, 1953, nearly six and a half years later.

During this delay, the pool of black talent got shallower, siphoned by other teams more readily adaptable to a changing sociological paradigm in baseball. “So what might have been wasn’t,” Royko wrote. “It had nothing to do with a goat’s curse. Not unless the goat wore a gabardine suit and sat behind a desk in an executive suite.”ii

TELEVISION

NBC’s television series Chicago Fire paid homage to the Billy Goat curse in the 2012 episode Mon Amour. Sardonically nicknamed “Otis” because of his dislike of elevators, Firefighter Brian Zvonecek expresses disappointment to his fellow firefighters at Firehouse 51 regarding Truck 81’s crest incorporating a goat. Firefighter Christopher Herrmann, a Firehouse 51 veteran, passionately explains that the goat crest will unlock Sianis’ curse.

During NBC’s sitcom heyday of the 1990s, Chicago Sons used the setting of a North Sheffield Avenue apartment building overlooking Wrigley Field. The Kulchak brothers boasted a formidable cast—Jason Bateman as Harry, an architect seeking love; D.W. Moffett as Mike, a construction worker seeking refuge after his wife throws him out because of his obsession with televised sports; and David Krumholtz as Billy, a recent college graduate seeking his next moneymaking opportunity. Chicago Sons, a mid-season replacement, lasted only a few months.

CBS’ drama series Chicago Hope featured Wrigley Field in an early episode of its debut 1994–95 season. Neurologist Aaron Shutt (played by Adam Arkin) and surgeon Jeffrey Geiger (played by Mandy Patinkin) hit golf balls from home plate under the Wrigley Field lights. A live broadcast of NBC’s ER in the 1997–98 season featured a simultaneous Cubs game on WGN.

THEATER

Chicago’s vibrant theater scene provided the platform for the Organic Theater Company’s 1977 play Bleacher Bums, a work of fiction deeply grounded in reality. Bleacher Bums debuted at Organic on August 2, 1977. It depicts a group of Cubs fans during a game against the St. Louis Cardinals. To better prepare, members of the Organic did research in Wrigley Field’s bleacher seats to build a story around banter, betting, and baseball.

The main characters are: Decker, a middle-aged businessman; Melody, a busty blond initially more interested in tanning than baseball until she slowly gets immersed into the intricacies until she’s talking like she was born and raised on Waveland Avenue; Greg, an amiable blind man in his 20s; Zig, a man in his 50s who compulsively gambles on the slightest of happenings during the game; Rose, Zig’s wife who proves to be more knowledgeable about baseball than her husband; Richie, a man in his 20s whose inattention to hygiene compounds his offensiveness to the group; and Marvin, a professional gambler who bets against the Cubs if he thinks the odds warrant it.iii

Though written by an ensemble at the Organic Theater Company, Bleacher Bums owes its genesis to Joe Mantegna. “Stuart Gordon was the head of Organic at that time. During a meeting, he said that we were almost out of money but we might have enough for one more show in the season,” explains Mantegna. “He asked if anyone had an idea for a show that could be done cheaply. Well, I had been going to Cub games since I was five, but I looked at games in a whole different light once I became an actor. I was banging around this idea of a story revolving around the fans at Wrigley Field and capturing their excitement for something that’s not a quality product.

“I distinctly remember putting my hand up and saying, ‘Let me take you to a ballgame and sit where I sit and tell me if you don’t think there’s a play.’ Once they saw the characters in the stands, they agreed. We did improvs and based the characters on real people. Zoz became Zig. Becker became Decker. Initially, the title was ‘The Year the Cubs Won the Pennant’ but ‘Bleacher Bums’ became the actual title.

“We sat most of the audience on the stage of the arena theater we had, then we took seats out of one section of the audience and had the cast sit on the cement levels where the seats used to be. So, the cement levels acted as bleacher seats. The sets cost next to nothing. We bought the costumes from the Amvets National Foundation store. On Tuesdays, you could get stuff cheap. The entire play probably cost less than $200 to produce. Based on longevity, Bleacher Bums is the biggest moneymaker for the Organic. It ran in Los Angeles at the Century City Playhouse for ten years, from 1980 to 1990.”iv

In her review of the Performing Garage version in 1978, Sports Illustrated’s Sarah Pileggi noted, “Marvin, of course, winds up with all the money, but by and large the nice guys win in the end.”[v] Mantegna furthers the point. “Everybody comes in as an individual, but at the end, Marvin is left alone with everyone else leaving as part of a pair. They all made a connection. For those couple of hours, they were a family.”vi

Franklin P. Adams (left), author of “Baseball’s Sad Lexicon.”

The story ends with an eloquent speech by Greg in response to Marvin’s offer of a ride home. He speaks of tomorrow, when the Cubs will win. In Greg’s paradigm, the Cubs will continue to win until they reach the World Series and play the Chicago White Sox. With the championship on the line in the seventh game, the Cubs will bring Ernie Banks out of retirement in the 23rd inning. Banks will hit a home run. And that’s when Marvin can give him a ride home, Greg finishes, with the paradoxical hopefulness of a Cubs fan.

Mantegna and his Organic Theater Company cohorts went beyond the bleachers to the broadcasting booth for research. They talked to Cubs broadcasting legend Jack Brickhouse, who dreamed of a fantasy scenario for the Cubs. “That speech came from Brickhouse—it was verbatim except for the last line. So the night Jack Brickhouse came to the play was a special night. Just to see his reaction,”vii Mantegna said.

Bleacher Bums resonates because of the universal appeal of different characters bonding over a similar goal—to root for the Cubs. Sourced in the pathos that appears to exist in every Cubs fan’s DNA, Bleacher Bums merits respect from the theatrical community. “A great thing that happened to me years ago, around 1983 or 1984, was a call from Jason Miller, the playwright for That Championship Season,” says Mantegna. “An anthology of sports plays included Bleacher Bums and Jason read it. He told me that he had a theater in Malibu and he wanted to produce the play. Ironically, his son is one of my daughter’s best friends.”viii

Since its 1977 debut, Bleacher Bums has seen various versions in theatres, updated since 1988 to reference the installment of lights after 74 years of day games at Wrigley Field. In 2001, Showtime aired a version starring Peter Riegert, Wayne Knight, and Matt Craven.

FILMS

The Break-Up, a 2006 comedy film starring Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn, features a Cubs game at Wrigley Field in the opening scene. Billy Crystal dons a Cubs jersey in the 1986 buddy cop film Running Scared. As 12-year-old Henry Rowengartner, Thomas Ian Nicholas realizes the dream of every Cubs fan in the 1993 comedy film Rookie of the Year. When Henry follows Wrigley Field tradition and throws back a home run ball, it reaches home plate—his power resulted from his tendons tightening while healing a broken arm. The Cubs sign Henry, promptly.

In the 1986 comedy film Ferris Bueller’s Day Off—written and directed by John Hughes, Hollywood’s conduit for the angst, hope, and humor of mid-1980s teens—a Chicago Cubs home game is one of many stops for the title character, a high school student whose experiences escalate to adventures with suburban myth status in the Windy City’s environs.

Ferris (Matthew Broderick) persuades his parents that he has an illness serious enough to stay home, but not serious enough to warrant a trip to the doctor. It’s a ruse, of course, so that Ferris can ditch school on a picture-perfect day, to the consternation of Dean of Students Ed Rooney, who prioritizes catching Ferris away from the home where he is presumably resting. Ferris’ gifts of persuasion extend to his gorgeous girlfriend Sloane and his best friend Cameron, who exudes anxiety the way Marilyn Monroe exudes sexuality.

On a visual level, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off may be considered a Chicago travelogue, as it depicts trips to the Art Institute of Chicago, the Sears Tower, the Chicago Mercantile Exchange, and the Von Steuben Day Parade—an annual September celebration honoring Chicago’s German-American population—where he mounts a float to lip-sync Wayne Newton’s Danke Schoen and the Beatles’ version of Twist and Shout in what ranks as one of the greatest all-time music scenes on film, right up there with Gene Kelly splashing around in Singin' in the Rain, Elvis Presley singing the title song in Jailhouse Rock, and any song from Grease.

Ferris et al. attended the Cubs-Braves game on June 5, 1985; Atlanta right fielder Claudell Washington smashed a foul ball that Ferris caught, further illustrating the good-natured teenager’s ability to float carelessly through life while garnering the fortunes of good luck, good will, and good friends.ix

That is, the film portrays the WGN broadcast of the June 5, 1985, game. But the close-up of Ferris catching the Washington foul ball may come from another contest. Baseball writer Al Yellon posited this theory in 2011 while referencing a July 12, 1985, article in the Chicago Tribune declaring the film’s production to be set in Chicago. “So the announcement of the filming of “Ferris Bueller” wasn’t made until more than a month after the June 5, 1985 game was played,” wrote Yellon. “The article says filming would begin in Chicago in September, and the parade in which Bueller jumped onto a float and sang took place during a real parade on Sept. 28, 1985.”[x]

In 2014, the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress added Ferris Bueller’s Day Off to its list of iconic films.

Taking Care of Business, a 1990 comedy starring Jim Belushi and Charles Grodin, illustrates the depths of Cubs loyalty and the lengths to which a loyalist will go to preserve it. Belushi plays California prisoner Jimmy Dworski, a die-hard Cubs fan convicted of grand theft auto with just a few days left on his sentence. After winning two tickets to Game 6 the 1990 Cubs-Angels World Series in a radio contest by being the first person to name the two Cubs pitchers threw no-hitters in 1972—Milt Pappas and Burt Hooton—Jimmy risks freedom by escaping prison to see the game in Anaheim. If Jimmy gets caught, he’ll wind up back in prison governed by a warden who simply, but intensely, dislikes Jimmy; an extension of his sentence would be certain upon capture.

When uptight advertising executive Spencer Barnes (Grodin) leaves his Filofax organizer at the airport, Jimmy finds it, keeps it, and uses it as a platform to impersonate Spencer; without the Filofax, Spencer is like a rudderless ship—he has no information, no credit cards, no cash. Jimmy, as Spencer, takes business meetings, stays in the beach house courtesy of the key in the Filofax, and sleeps with the boss’ beautiful daughter, and botches an account with a major client. Initially furious at the impostor who has thrown his life upside down and backwards, Spencer reconciles with Jimmy; they go to Game 6, which the Cubs win.

Belushi also appeared in the 1986 film About Last Night starring Brat Packers Rob Lowe and Demi Moore. A meet-cute takes place at a softball game in Chicago’s Grant Park between Lowe’s restaurant equipment salesman Danny and advertising professional Debbie. It leads to a one-night stand, which leads to a tumultuous one-year relationship. An early scene shows Danny and Debbie watching a Cubs game from a rooftop on North Sheffield Avenue.

LITERARY

Franklin Pierce Adams created a cornerstone item in Cubs popular culture when he scribed the double-play ballet of Tinker to Evers to Chance in That Double Play Again for the July 12, 1910, edition of the New York Evening Mail; it later became known by its more popular title—Baseball’s Sad Lexicon. Adams was a Cubs fan from the Midwest; he moved to New York City in his 20s. In J.G. Taylor Spink’s “Looping the Loops” column in the March 2, 1944, edition of The Sporting News, Adams explains, “I didn’t like [New York Giants manager John] McGraw. I was a Cub fan, for I had come from Chicago, and I got particular delight out of every game the Cubs won from the Giants.”xi

Other literary offerings regarding Cubs Nation include the prominence of Wrigley Field in Randy Richardson’s mystery 2014 novel Wrigleyville and Sara Paretsky’s V.I. Warshawski novel series about a female private investigator. The 1991 film V.I. Warshawski—starring Kathleen Turner as the title character—had one scene filmed inside Wrigley Field. Unfortunately, it did not make the final cut.xii

THE FUTURE?

2015 is a landmark year for Cubs popular culture. In the 1989 comedy film Back to the Future Part II, Marty McFly (played by Michael J. Fox) transports 30 years into the future, from 1985 to 2015, when he finds out that the Cubs won the 2015 World Series. “That’s my favorite bit about the Cubs in popular culture, other than Bleacher Bums,”xiii says Joe Mantegna.

So, will life imitate art in 2015? We’ll see in October.

i http://www.billygoattavern.com/legend/curse/

ii Mike Royko, “It Was Wrigley, Not Some Goat, Who Cursed Cubs,” Chicago Tribune, March 21, 1997.

iii Bleacher Bums, Conceived by Joe Mantegna, Written by Roberta Custer, Richard Fire, Dennis Franz, Stuart Gordon, Josephine Paoletti, Dennis Paoli, Carolyn Purdy-Gordon, Michael Saad, Keith Szarabajka, Ian Williams, 1977

iv Telephone interview with writer, December 17, 2014

v Sarah Pileggi, “For Once, The Cubs In A Laugher,” Sports Illustrated, June 19, 1978

vi Mantegna interview.

vii Ibid.

viii Ibid.

ix http://www.baseballprospectus.com/article.php?articleid=12877

x Al Yellon, “Was Ferris Bueller Really At a Cubs Game At Wrigley Field?,” February 8, 2011, http://chicago.sbnation.com/chicago-cubs/2011/2/8/1982246/ferris-bueller-cubs-game-wrigley-field.

xi J.G. Taylor Spink, “Looping the Loops” column, The Sporting News, March 2, 1944.

xii Don Babwin and Andrew Seligman, “Stevens, Mantegna Recall Wrigley,” April 22, 2014, http://bigstory.ap.org/article/stevens-mantegna-recall-wrigley.

xiii Mantegna interview.

Buying the White Sox: A Comic Opera Starring Bill Veeck, Hank Greenberg and Chuck Comiskey

John Rosengren

When Bill Veeck and Hank Greenberg arrived at Comiskey Park on March 11, 1959, as the new owners of the White Sox, Chuck Comiskey raced away in his Cadillac. Greenberg waved, but Comiskey did not return the gesture.[i]

It was as if Chuck, whose grandfather Charles had brought the White Sox to town in 1900, thought he could avoid parting with the family treasure simply by avoiding the men who wanted to buy it. Thus began what the Chicago Sun-Times declared “a stirring chapter in the history of the White Sox, replete with comedy and tragedy.”ii

The Old Roman had left the team to his son and daughter-in-law, Grace Comiskey, who in turn left the team to their two children, Dorothy Comiskey Rigney and Chuck. Perhaps because she knew of Chuck’s propensity to make a mess of things after a few drinks, Mrs. Comiskey gave Dorothy—the older, responsible sister—500 more shares than Chuck. When Dorothy wanted to sell her 54 percent stake to Veeck and Greenberg, Chuck sued to stop her. A judge ruled in Dorothy’s favor; Chuck appealed. That didn’t work either.iii

Chuck wanted Chicago insurance salesman Charlie O. Finley to control the team. Finley, later known for his meddling with the Kansas City and Oakland A’s, had seduced Chuck with the promise that he could stay with the Sox and tried to win over Dorothy with a sweeter offer.iv But Veeck and Greenberg already held the option, and in the end, the older sister sold her majority interest in the club to them for $2.5 million.[v]

Veeck, who had previously owned the Cleveland Indians and St. Louis Browns, and Greenberg, a Hall of Fame player who had owned and run the Indians, wanted to buy out Chuck—or at least 26 percent of the remaining team stock—in order to save $1.3 million in taxes with Veeck’s clever scheme for depreciating players’ salaries.vi Nuh-uh, Chuck said. He called the partners “raiders” and sued them.vii

The Detroit News called the situation “baseball’s strangest stalemate.”viii Throughout the 1959 season, during which the “Go-Go Sox” of Luis Aparicio, Nellie Fox, and Early Wynn won the White Sox’s first pennant since the 1919 Black Sox Scandal and restored the team’s good name, the new owners tried to win over Chuck with no luck.

Greenberg spent more than 10 years as an executive with the Indians and White Sox after his playing career.

They let Chuck keep his office and raised his salary, but he still wasn’t happy.ix He developed an intense enmity for Veeck, a sentiment the maverick owner reciprocated. That left Greenberg, the team vice president and treasurer, to play peacemaker between the two adversaries. That wasn’t an easy role for Greenberg, since Chuck was suing him, too.[x] The mess was further complicated by Chuck’s alliance with his father-in-law, Frank Curran (appointed to the board by Chuck as a minority owner),xi who constantly peered over Greenberg’s shoulder to check the team’s books.xii

Chicago’s American reported the Sox’ February 1960 board meeting as having “had comic opera aspects altho [sic] the participants were deadly serious about the whole thing.” While the directors met, Chuck refused to join them and pouted in his office next door.xiii

Late in the 1960 season, Veeck began to suffer from a nasty cough and constant headache. Mayo Clinic doctors ruled out a brain tumor but decided that he had a chronic concussion and prescribed complete rest. He and Greenberg chose to sell their shares of the club to Arthur Allyn, Jr., in June 1961 for $2.5 million.xiv (Allyn owned 30% of Artnell Corporation, which now became the majority owner of the team.) By that time, Comiskey had made himself so irrelevant that he was unaware of the sale. Greenberg agreed to stay on as general manager, but the strain of commuting from New York, where the divorcé was raising his three children, wore him out and he resigned two months later.xv

Chuck also sold his shares to another group, believing he could eventually buy them back. He was wrong, and there ended the Comiskey family’s hand in the Sox. When Veeck regained his health and returned with Greenberg to purchase the White Sox in 1975, they were able to run the club without any Comiskey interference.xvi

i Veeck, Bill. Veeck as in Wreck . Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001, p. 329; Detroit News 3/12/61

ii Chicago Sun-Times, 6/11/61

iii Dickson, Paul. Bill Veeck: Baseball’s Greatest Maverick . New York: Walker & Co., 2012. p. 228; Veeck, p. 323

iv Veeck, p. 324

v Veeck, p. 322

vi Veeck, p. 325-7

vii Veeck, p. 328; Greenberg, Hank. Hank Greenberg: The Story of My Life . Chicago: Triumph, 2001.

viii Detroit News, 3/12/61

ix Veeck, p. 330

x Greenberg, p. 235

xi Veeck, p. 319

xii Greenberg, p. 235

xiii Chicago’s American, 2/19/60

xiv Chicago Sun-Times, 6/11/61; AP 6/10/11

xv AP 8/26/61; Rosengren, John. Hank Greenberg: The Hero of Heroes . New York: New American Library, 2013. p. 340

xvi Detroit News, 12/20/75

William Hulbert: Father Of Professional Sports Leagues

David Bohmer

As the 1875 baseball season approached, William Hulbert, the president of the Chicago White Stockings, was livid.

Chicago’s entry in the National Association of Professional Base Ball Players (NAPBBP) had attempted, prior to the end of the 1874 season, to sign their star shortstop, Davy Force, for the next year. Such a move violated the Association’s guidelines stating that no player could be signed before the current season was finished. After the season ended, Force inked contract with the Athletics, one of the Philadelphia teams in the Association.

While the evidence isn’t clear, Force may have been offered more money. He also could have feared that his Chicago contract was invalid, having been signed prematurely. The two contesting teams protested to the Association and at its annual meeting the judiciary committee awarded Force to the White Stockings.

Later in the spring, however, another Association meeting was held, a new president was elected from Philadelphia, the judiciary committee reconvened, and Force was now awarded to the Athletics.[i] Hulbert fumed. His correspondence with Harry Wright at the time indicates that the Boston manager shared his anger.ii

Beyond the unfavorable Force decision, many other issues upset Hulbert about the Association. Few in 1875 could imagine that Hulbert’s anger would cause him to take the initiative in starting a new league, and no one imagined it would precipitate a revolution in American sports. But he began plotting to change things.

While the ultimate creation of the National League of Professional Base Ball Clubs in early 1876 was a major surprise to most of the baseball world, Hulbert had already made public his general intentions through his mouthpiece, the Chicago Tribune, in October 1875. Published without attribution by Hulbert’s close friend, Tribune editor Lewis Meacham, the article was entitled: “Baseball: A Vital Question for 1876.”

In it, Hulbert laid out much of what bothered him about the Association, especially the lack of organization of many teams. “A glance over the ball field for the season now nearly closed presents a problem for 1876 of more than ordinary importance to the game as an exhibition. The Brooklyn Atlantics are a sample of too many professional clubs; they had never any organization, any association, any backing, or any elements of permanency or responsibility of any kind; they were simply a gang of amateurs and rejected professionals, who played such clubs as they could get to come to them, and shared the proceeds. They were not even a mob, for a mob must have a head…. No one supposes that they ever intended to play any western games; they simply entered the ring to force clubs to play as many games as possible with them, they taking two-thirds of the receipts as on home ground…. First-class visiting clubs under heavy expense have lost money every time they played with them, while the two-thirds which went to the gang was reason enough to get on as many games as they could.”iii In essence, Hulbert argued, the association had too many weak teams draining the resources of the better organizations and, in particular, taking advantage of the western clubs.iv

Hulbert’s treatise went on to propose remedies, many of which foreshadowed his new creation, one which came about the ensuing February. “What can we do about it?...[I]f 18 clubs come into the ring next year, the poorest half of the list will utterly swamp the whole and destroy the prospects of the whole game. At the same time, the managers say they can hardly see how to keep the duffers out. It has been the custom to vote everybody in who applied….The remedy is not difficult… First: No club should be allowed to enter for the championship unless it be backed by a responsible association, financially capable of finishing a season when begun…. Second: No club should be admitted from a city of less size than 100,000 inhabitants….Third: No two clubs should be admitted from the same city.…Fourth: The faith of management of a club should be shown by the deposit of $1000…in the hands of the association before the season begins….[I]t will be the plain duty of the nine clubs named to withdraw from the association as it now stands, and form an organization of their own – a close corporation, too.”[v]

Reduce the number of teams mentioned by one and the entry fee by $900, and you have the league that Hulbert brought into being a few months later, a feat Henry Chadwick—taken completely by surprise—called “a startling coup d’état.”vi

The NAPBBP had been a revolution in its own right, established in March 1871 following a series of ongoing disputes with its predecessor, the National Association of Base Ball Players, over whether players should be amateur or professional. A leading proponent of the new organization was Chadwick, who understood the changing reality of the game as an increasing number of teams, following the example of the Cincinnati Red Stockings in 1869, had begun openly paying their players.vii In 1868, Chadwick noted that “the rules prohibit players from receiving compensation, but there is scarcely a club of note that has not infringed the rule.”viii

The new Association resolved the professional question, but also created a host of other problems. Charging a mere $10 entry fee per team, the Association never could afford any central administration, control over scheduling, ability to enforce competitiveness, or means to clamp down on rampant gambling at the parks or the fixing of games. It was common for a visiting team not to show up for a scheduled game. Western teams often failed to travel east for games and eastern teams likewise would not show up in places like Chicago. Competitive balance was a joke. In the last year of the association, the Boston Red Stockings won with a 71–8 record, while the pitiful Brooklyn Atlantics, the team Hulbert referred to in his treatise, finished 2–42.

During the season, 7 of 13 teams folded.ix Alcohol and gambling were prevalent at many games, and rumors of game fixing inundated the baseball press. At its core, the Association wielded no control.

When Hulbert wrote his treatise for the Tribune in late 1875, then, his complaints were justified. Even a strong supporter like Chadwick recognized the need for reform, especially in removing the gambling and drinking elements from the ballparks. Even solving those problems, however, would not address the scheduling and competitive woes plaguing the Association. With no governing organization to oversee the operation and address the challenges facing the professional game, it appeared that little could be done to fix the problems.

While these shortfalls have usually been offered as the motivations for Hulbert’s push for reform, skeptics offer another factor: His fear that his White Stockings might be expelled from the Association in 1876.

Hulbert certainly thought that a strong baseball team was an excellent way to promote the city he loved so deeply. In his anger over the Force decision, he decided during the 1875 season to build as good a team as possible. The dominant Boston team was the logical place to start, and their star pitcher, Albert Goodwill Spalding, a sensible recruit since he was a Northern Illinois native. It is somewhat unclear who approached whom, but before the season was over Hulbert had signed Spalding and three other Boston standouts to contracts.[x] Hulbert supposedly told Spalding, “You’ve no business playing in Boston. You’re a western boy and you belong right here.”xi

The Boston press was outraged when the news broke before the end of the 1875 season. But the negative press did not stop Hulbert. Perhaps as revenge, he raided the Athletics and signed Adrian “Cap” Anson, who would become Chicago’s superstar and manager for well over a decade. While these signings might not have actually violated Association rules, they certainly provoked the Boston and Athletic clubs. Perhaps his fear of revenge from those clubs gave Hulbert additional incentive to create a new league.xii That effort would culminate in New York City on February 2, 1876, with the announcement of the formation of the National League.

While the outcome of the New York meeting is well documented, little is known about what took place during the actual session. One lingering legend is that Hulbert assembled the hostile eastern clubs in his hotel room, locked the door, pocketed the key, and told the representatives they could not leave until they had reached a decision.xiii While fascinating, this unverifiable story does not seem realistic. More likely is the suggestion that Hulbert met individually with each of the eastern clubs privately before the group meeting on the second, just as he had already done with the western teams.xiv With such groundwork laid before the larger assembly met, Hulbert could rely upon both his forceful personality and the logic of his plan.

The bedrock of the National League (NL) was an alliance between Hulbert and Harry Wright of Boston—surprising indeed given that the Chicagoan had just signed four of Wright’s stars. Despite the pair’s personal history, however, Boston had many reasons to give serious consideration to Hulbert’s proposal.

First, Boston and Chicago had been the two most profitable organizations in the NAPBBP. Boston, like Chicago, had been hurt by the weaker clubs, through lower attendance and forfeited games when the poorer team failed to show. Wright, who had managed the Cincinnati club, baseball’s first openly professional team, was also bothered by the poor play of the weaker teams, a point driven home by Boston’s dominance of the Association in 1875. He was also concerned about the 15 new clubs seeking to join the NAPBBP in 1876, believing that a limited number of teams in the largest markets would assure greater competitiveness.

On December 17, 1875, owners of the NA’s four Western teams (Louisville, Chicago, St. Louis, and Cincinnati) convened to create the pact between them for a new organization.

The Davy Force affair especially bothered Wright because it underscored Philadelphia’s heavy influence in the Association. From available correspondence, it is clear that Wright was aware and supportive of the Louisville meeting intended to create a bond between the Western teams.xv Given that strong philosophical agreement, Wright could overlook the loss of his players, thus creating a Chicago/Boston alliance that proved instrumental in the early years of the National League.xvi

The broader climate of the 1870’s also underscored the salience of Hulbert’s proposal. The rapid urbanization of the northeastern and Midwestern segments of the country provided larger populations from which a baseball team could draw. Industrialization, which helped drive the population growth in cities, also provided more affluence and more leisure time for spectator activities. The post-Civil War era was also a period of rampant capitalism, of stock companies and private investors fostering economic growth with abundant support from favorable government policies. Industrial capitalism also brought about a more pronounced division between owners and management on the one hand and labor on the other.

With all these changes came new waves of immigrants, still mostly Irish and German before 1876 but eventually also Eastern Europeans and Italians. All of these currents in the United States impacted how the National League was structured.

The name of Hulbert’s new league reflected in itself the changes capitalism was bringing to the country. The old organization was called the National Association of Professional Base Ball PLAYERS. The new organization was to be called The National League of Professional Base Ball CLUBS. Whatever remnant of player involvement in club leadership had remained in the Association would now, in Hulbert’s league, disappear. His creation fully reflected the division between capital and labor and firmly put the players in the latter category.xvii As Harold Seymour noted, for the players “democracy was conspicuously absent in the league constitution. The players had no franchise, no elected representatives, no voice in the conduct of affairs. They could not get justice through a trial of their peers but, as in feudal days, must depend on the court of their overlords.”xviii This same state of affairs would loom large for nearly one hundred years.

The other difference in the name, of course, was the change from “association” to “league.” The latter term codified the intent to create a stronger and rigid structure. “League” derives from Latin roots meaning “to bind,” and the word had connotations of a solid military or political compact; “association” had much looser connotations of “coming together for a common purpose.” Both name changes reflect fundamental shifts in the organization of professional baseball that continue to shape the game.

Beyond the changes in nomenclature and the impact of those new terms, Hulbert’s new constitution contained four fundamental points. The first and most significant of these was the creation of territorial rights. In every established market, only one team was to have the exclusive rights to field a professional baseball team. In essence, a ball club was granted a monopoly—at least in the new league—in its given population center. This eliminated competing NL teams in New York and Philadelphia and established the structural basis for every baseball league (and, indeed, every other American professional sports league) established since.xix Along with the division of capital and labor, territorialism may have been the single most important contribution of the new league.

Market monopoly, however, was not the only major change. The National League constitution also prohibited teams from markets with a population of fewer than 75,000. Initially, a limit of 100,000 had been proposed by Hulbert, but league member Hartford, with only 37,000 people as of the 1870 census, would have been an exception under any such rule. As events were to play out, other smaller cities were later added out of necessity, showing that the NL would simply ignore its population limit when deemed necessary. Other stipulations required that all teams were to play their entire schedule of games with the other members, five home and five away, and were restricted in the number of games they could play against clubs outside the league. League members could not play any outside team that came from the city of another member team. Finally, each member team was to contribute $100 a year to the League, ten times the fee required by the association. Those dues went to the establishment of a central governing office and the creation of a permanent secretary-treasurer, to be paid an annual salary of $400. To oversee the league, a five-member governing board was established, with members serving one-year terms. One board member was to be elected president by the others. The constitution also allowed for any misbehaving player to be blacklisted and left unable to sign with the other teams. A formal blacklisting policy, developed later, was one of Hulbert’s last innovations before his untimely death.xx In one fell swoop, the new league had addressed the problems of ownership, market placement, scheduling, and organizational control.

Especially notable is how closely the new constitution echoed the original proposal Hulbert had put forth in the Chicago Tribune back in October of 1875. Weaker clubs were eliminated and gaining membership was difficult. Teams now played set schedules and were limited in their ability to play non-member clubs. They were to enter with strong financial backing and without player involvement in ownership or governance. All teams were given territorial rights in a specific market, and those markets had to have a minimum population level. Teams had to pay high membership dues to create a strong infrastructure for overseeing league operations. It is impressive how much of Hulbert’s original vision was actually executed at the February meeting.

The league’s first season, however, would prove to be difficult. Its initial success was, at best, mixed. It certainly did not surprise anyone that Chicago dominated the league, finishing ahead of Hartford, 38 wins to 34. The club’s player acquisitions the year before had clearly paid off. This success also enabled the White Stockings to be the NL’s only profitable team during the first season. If competitive balance had been an objective, it was not achieved. The Athletic team finished 14–45–1, and they weren’t nearly as bad as Cincinnati, which won 9 and lost 56.xxi There was clearly more work to do. By far the largest disappointment, however, came from the failure of both the Mutual and Athletic teams to complete their schedules; both reneged on one trip to the western cities.

This presented the League with its first major crisis. A set schedule, fulfilled by all teams, was one of the central points of the NL’s constitution. Exacerbating the problem was the fact that the two disobedient teams were in the League’s largest markets. How the NL disciplined the teams would say much about how seriously it took its constitution. At the annual meeting after the 1876 season, with Hulbert presiding, both New York and Philadelphia were removed from the League, which would play with only six teams in 1877. Retroactively, games played against the two expelled teams would no longer count in the official 1876 NL statistics.

A variety of factors played into this decision. Both New York and Philadelphia had competing professional baseball clubs, making it virtually impossible to enforce territorial exclusivity. Both cities’ NL entries had problems with gambling and drinking among the players, and, in Philadelphia, friction remained from Chicago having signed Cap Anson.xxii Nevertheless, by removing the teams in the two largest markets for failing to meet their commitments to the League, Hulbert sent a clear and powerful message that the authority of the National League preempted the individual clubs’ right to conduct business as they saw fit.

The removal of two of the charter clubs was only the first of many challenges the National League would face in its early years. Each season seemed to present Hulbert with a new problem, and each time the League’s response set precedents that would help shape future professional sports leagues. 1877 brought a major gambling scandal. In 1878, the League responded to the threat posed by the recently created International Association of Professional Base Ball Players. The following year, in implementing the reserve rule, the League responded to high personnel costs and players jumping from team to team. In 1880, the major challenge came from the renegade behavior of the Cincinnati club, which chose to ignore the League’s generally accepted policy banning alcohol. Following the 1881 season, the National League faced its biggest challenge to date—the creation of the rival American Association, with most of its teams in larger population markets. In all of these crises, the response under Hulbert’s direction had significant impact for the long term.

Since the National League had been founded, in part, to help stem baseball’s ties to gambling and corruption, the actions of some Louisville players, especially Jim Devlin, presented Hulbert with a crisis in the league’s second season. Louisville had, by August 13, 1877, built a four-game lead in the pennant race, when the team suddenly and inexplicably started losing. The club dropped 11 of 13 (ignoring one tie) before rebounding. Devlin, the only pitcher on the team, had won 30 games the year before and did not pitch especially well during the losing streak.

Boston came from behind, winning 20 of its last 21, to take the championship by seven games. Jack Chapman, the Louisville manager, was suspicious of his club’s collapse and obtained confessions from three of the four players involved, including his pitcher, that they had fixed games. When the evidence was presented to Hulbert after the season, he immediately banned all four players permanently from the League.

In the ensuing years, he turned down numerous appeals from the banned players, including a heartfelt personal plea from Devlin in Hulbert’s Chicago office, a meeting Al Spalding witnessed.xxiii As Spalding later conveyed, “Devlin was in tears, Hulbert was in tears.…I saw the great bulk of Hulbert’s frame tremble with the emotion he vainly sought to stifle.…I saw him take out a $50 bill and press it into the palm of the prostrate player. And then I heard him say… ‘Devlin, that is what I think of you personally; but damn you, you have sold a game and I can’t trust you. Now go and let me never see your face again; for your act will never be condoned as I live.’”xxiv More than forty years before the Black Sox scandal would rock the baseball world and a new commissioner would ban the eight players involved for life, Hulbert had taken a similar action. No stronger message could be conveyed that the throwing of games by National League players would not be tolerated.

At the time Hulbert sent that message, his league was facing a growing challenge from the International Association, which emerged from the breakup of the NAPBBP. The IA, founded in 1877, was an attempt to carry on the loosely knit Association. Like its predecessor, it offered more control of the clubs to the players. While mostly a New England and New York operation, it failed to gain clubs in the major eastern markets. Nonetheless, the National League considered it a major threat to its eastern teams and took steps to split the Association by establishing alliances with some of its clubs. These alliances, obtained for a small fee, ensured member clubs the protection of the League, including recognition of territorial rights and player contracts. In this regard, the alliances laid the groundwork for relationships in later years between major and minor league teams.xxv

Hulbert was facing not only external challenges, but also internal ones. Three of the NL’s original clubs folded after 1877: St. Louis, Hartford, and Louisville, the last largely due to the game-fixing scandal. The three removed clubs were replaced with teams in Providence, Indianapolis, and Milwaukee as the League maintained a six-team format at the start of the 1878 season. Part of the League’s problem was the depressed American economy, which made it a challenge to keep a for-profit entertainment business afloat.xxvi As a result, 1879 saw another shake-up as the League returned to an eight-team format. Indianapolis and Milwaukee dropped out, while Troy, Cleveland, Buffalo, and Syracuse were added.

Davy Force, whose contract status spurred William Hulbert to found the National League. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

By the time the 1879 season ended and the full impact of the new teams and the alliance was assessed, it became even clearer that players “revolving”—i.e. jumping from one team to another—remained a major problem. This issue was especially exacerbated by the poor economy, as the League had been trying to get a handle on its operating costs. In previous years clubs had tried to make players pay for their uniforms and part of their travel, lodging, and meals.xxvii With players free from year to year to go to another team, however, the major cost—salaries—still proved difficult to control. In the first four years of the National League, salaries made up between 60 and 67 percent of its total operating costs.xxviii To address this, the NL owners met in Buffalo on September 29, 1879, and adopted the reserve rule, which for close to a century became the single most contentious issue between baseball management and players.

The Buffalo Commercial Advertiser ran two separate summaries of the motives behind the adoption of the reserve. The first ran this way: “The financial results of the past season prove that salaries must come down. We believe that players in insisting upon exorbitant prices are injuring their own interests by forcing out of existence clubs which cannot be run and pay large salaries except at a large personal loss…In view of these facts, measures have been taken by this League to remedy the evil to some extent for 1880. It has also been decided that a uniform contract with players shall be used by each club.”xxix

The second article, published four days after the league meeting, summarized the reserve: “Finally, it was proposed that each delegate be allowed to name five desirable players from his own club as a nucleus for a team in 1880, and that these chosen men should not be allowed to sign with any other club without permission. This would prevent unhealthy competition and at the same time give each club a majority of its players for next season.”xxx In a nutshell, high labor costs and financial struggles necessitated both a uniform contract and the reserving of the best players for the next season. Revolving of the better players would now stop.

While it is clear the major motive behind the reserve was economic necessity, it is unclear who sponsored the idea at the Buffalo meeting. Many thought the reserve was initially instituted to hurt the Chicago team, since it had to that point been the League’s most financially successful team.xxxi Some analysts of this period have suggested that Andrew Soden, the new owner of the Boston franchise, was the driving force behind the reserve.xxxii Given Hulbert’s control over the National League, however, and given his persuasive powers, it is difficult to imagine the reserve being implemented without his support. In fact, in 1880, it never would have been renewed at the annual meeting if not for Hulbert’s strong efforts to push it through.xxxiii Given his feelings about labor, his generally demeaning views of ballplayers, and his desire to control costs and revolving, this policy seems a natural fit for Hulbert; in any case, it became another of his major legacies.

Other innovations, commonly thought to be part of the League from the start, included the 50-cent admission price, the banning of alcohol at the parks, and the prohibition of playing on Sundays. While all became a part of the league during Hulbert’s tenure, none was part of the 1876 constitution. All certainly fit within Hulbert’s overall vision of baseball, especially in his idealized composition of the fans. The admission price and banning of booze and Sunday games were geared to attract middle-class white Anglo-Saxon Protestants.xxxiv There was no room for the lower classes, who usually worked every day but Sunday. Such fans would also be kept away by the higher price and lack of spirits. Reflecting the politics of the era, his aim was basically to draw Republicans to the ballpark.

While the League had frowned on lower admission prices, booze, and Sunday games from its conception, nothing in the initial constitution addressed these matters. That changed at the 1879 meeting (where the reserve rule was implemented), when the 50 cent admission price—15 cents going to the visiting team—was added to the constitution. Several clubs voiced concerns about the increase despite arguments that other forms of higher class entertainment had similar prices.xxxv The following year, Hulbert implemented the other part of his policy, amending the league’s constitution to ban liquor and Sunday games. This time, the greatest opposition came from Cincinnati, one of three remaining cities to have an original NL franchise. The city’s heavy German population and the owners’ ties to local breweries made this policy exceptionally objectionable. The owners protested—one even proclaiming that Hulbert liked his whiskey as much as the next man—and the NL responded by expelling Cincinnati from the League.xxxvi This expulsion came back to haunt Hulbert after the 1881 season, however, for his act had sown the seeds of competition.

At the start of the 1881 season, however, there was no indication that the exiled Cincinnati team would create a problem. In fact, the National League began the season with more stability, and in the best financial shape, since its formation. Hulbert proclaimed that “at no time since the beginning of the League have the clubs been in so healthy a financial condition at the beginning of the season as this year. There is not a ‘weak sister’ among them.”xxxvii Detroit replaced the departed Cincinnati as the eighth team, but the other seven remained. No franchises failed in 1881 and all teams completed their schedules. Perhaps the best evidence of the League’s stability came at the annual meeting at the end of the season. For the first time the meeting “passed without President Hulbert once bringing his fist down on the table till things jiggled.”xxxviii Yet, almost simultaneously, another meeting was taking place in Cincinnati that would challenge Hulbert’s world.

While it had taken a full year, the dissident Cincinnati club assembled a slate of potential teams to form a new league, the American Association (AA), in early November. By the start of the 1882 season, six teams formed the Association: Cincinnati, St. Louis, Eclipse of Louisville, Athletic of Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Allegheny of Pittsburgh. All but the last two cities had once represented the National League.

Two facets of the new Association’s constitution stood out. While the structure, including scheduling, ownership, and territorial rights, paralleled that of the National League, admission cost to games was left to individual clubs (all of which settled on 25 cents), liquor would be served at the parks, and games would be played on Sundays.xxxix While the imitative management structure was something of a vindication of Hulbert’s views, the threat of competition from a non-puritanical league was definitely not to his liking.

By the time the Association began its 1882 season, Hulbert was dead of heart failure at age 49, a condition perhaps brought on by the new competitive challenge.xl Before his death, Hulbert was clearly preparing to deal with the threat, asserting that “the League does not recognize the existence of any Association of ball clubs excepting itself and the League Alliance.”xli He moved quickly to form alliances with clubs in both New York and Philadelphia to prevent or weaken the new association’s efforts in the AA’s largest population centers.xlii There is even some evidence that he had begun to lay the groundwork for the conciliation with the new league that his successor implemented a year later.xliii Even in weakening health, Hulbert helped to ensure the National League’s continued well-being.

Perhaps Hulbert’s greatest contribution beyond the initial structure, however, had been his ability to keep the League alive. By the time of his death, the League had seen franchises in 17 different cities and only those in Boston and Chicago had remained part of the League throughout. Similar to the way General Washington had won the Revolutionary War by keeping an army in the field, Hulbert had kept the National League viable by ensuring from year to year that it had enough franchises to present teams with professional talent.

Writer Tom Melville has made the interesting observation that franchise stability, other than the Boston/Chicago axis, was less important to Hulbert than maintaining the indivisible central authority of the League.xliv If true, Hulbert’s effort was definitely an unmitigated success, for the League, not its rotating franchises, governed the overall operational success.

Along with a structure that was copied by the new league, and nearly every subsequent league created (the Player’s League of 1890 the one notable exception), Hulbert’s other legacy was his development of a protégé who would help to lead the League after his death. Albert Goodwill Spalding, from the time he was signed by Hulbert to pitch for the White Stockings, became his understudy. Spalding moved from star pitcher to second in command of the White Stockings, largely directing the team’s affairs so Hulbert could focus on League issues. (This may explain in part his early retirement from active play, which likely kept Chicago from winning league titles from 1877 through 1879.) When Hulbert died, Spalding bought out the family interest in the franchise and directed the National League behind the scenes until his retirement from both in 1891.

By that time, Spalding had helped the league in its fight against both the Union Association in 1884 and the Player’s League in 1890. With the latter victory, Spalding helped to ensure the preeminence of the Hulbert model for operating a professional sports team or league. He may not have co-founded the National League, but he definitely helped assure its continued dominance.xlv The baton of leadership had been ably passed and the League continued to prevail, even withstanding weak leadership during the 1890’s.

Hulbert left a profound legacy to professional baseball that carried over to other pro sports in America. The capitalist model for team ownership has prevailed not only in baseball, but also in the other major professional leagues. Other than the Green Bay Packers, neither municipal nor player ownership has succeeded in American sports. That has often brought heartache to local fans when their teams have left town, but it has also proven successful both financially and, to some degree, competitively. Hulbert’s creation of defined territory—essentially a monopoly—for a given franchise remains the basis for every current professional sports league. While such a policy seems on the surface to be anti-competitive, it comes out of a rich nineteenth-century tradition in which moguls talked the talk of competition while maneuvering to gain market control. His banning for life of the four Louisville players who threw games in 1877 established a model that Judge Landis, the first commissioner of baseball, used in 1921 to send a similar powerful message about gambling.

The NL’s creation of alliances with other teams and leagues to help ensure its dominance set a pattern that nearly all other leagues would later follow. The reserve rule, established to stabilize the financial viability of teams in the early years, created a major sore spot in labor relations for professional baseball for nearly a century later. In essence, Hulbert created the basic framework within which professional sports in America operate.

Endnotes

i James, Bill, in The New Historical Baseball Abstract (New York: The Free Press, 2001), 33 stresses how significantly this issue impacted Hulbert. Pietrusza, David, in Major Leagues: 18 Professional Baseball Organizations 1871 to Present (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc., 1991), 23, suggests Force’s contract with Chicago was signed illegally; Melville, Tom, in Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc., 2001), 72-73 contends that the pressures of playing in Chicago drove Force to Philadelphia.

ii Wright, Harry. Letter to William Hulbert. March 18, 1875. Harry Wright Papers. Albert Goodwill Spalding Collection, New York Public Library. See also David Quentin Voigt, American Baseball: From Gentleman’s Sport to the Commissioner System (Norman, Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press, 1966), 50 on how the Force case helped to polarize Wright.

iii “Sporting – The Professional Baseball Association – What It Must Do to Be Saved – The Coming Trouble for the Game and Its Remedy,” Chicago Tribune, October 24, 1875 in Early Innings: A Documentary History of Baseball, 1825-1908, ed. by Dean A. Sullivan (Lincoln, Nebraska: University of Nebraska Press, 1995), 92-93.

iv This has also been noted in a recent article by Hershberger, Richard, “The Borderlands of Professionalism: Cooperative Clubs and the Formation of the National League,” in Base Ball: A Journal of the Early Game. 1.1 (2007): 103-116 as Hulbert’s major motivation in his new efforts.

v “Sporting – The Professional Baseball Association,” Chicago Tribune, October 24, 1875, in Early Innings, ed. Sullivan, 94-95.

vi Chadwick, Henry. “National League of Professional Clubs – A Startling Coup d’Etat,” New York Clipper, February 12, 1876 in Early Innings, ed. Sullivan, 96.

vii Pietrusza, Major Leagues, 5.

viii Chadwick, Henry. The Game of Baseball: How to Learn It, How to Play It, & How to Teach It (New York: George Munro, 1868), 44.

ix Pietrusza, Major Leagues, 17.

x Lamster, Mark. Spalding’s World Tour: The Epic Adventure That Took Baseball Around The Globe – And Made it America’s Game (New York: Public Affairs, Perseus Books, 2006), 21, contends that Spalding was the instigator while Pietrusza, in Major Leagues 24-25, gives the initial credit to Hulbert.

xi Pietrusza, Major Leagues, 24.

xii Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years (New York: Oxford University Press, 1960), 78.

xiii Ibid, 80.

xiv Rosenburg, John M. They Gave Us Baseball: The 12 Extraordinary Men Who Shaped the Major Leagues (Harrisburg, Pennsylvania: Stackpole Books, 1989), 18.

xv Wright, Harry. Letter to William Hulbert. December 30, 1875. Harry Wright Papers. Albert Goodwill Spalding Collection, New York Public Library.

xvi Melville, Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League, 79, Voigt, American Baseball, 62.

xvii Vincent, Ted. The Rise and Fall of American Sport: Mudville's Revenge (Lincoln, Nebraska: University of Nebraska Press, 1981), 135-36, Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 80.

xviii Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 83.

xix Burk, Robert F. Never Just a Game: Players, Owners & American Baseball to 1920 (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1994), 58, Vincent, The Rise and Fall of American Sport, 139, and Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 81. The one exception to this was the Players' League, which lasted only the 1890 season.

xx Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 81-83, Voigt, American Baseball, 65.

xxi Gillette, Gary and Palmer, Pete, Eds. The 2006 ESPN Baseball Encyclopedia (New York: Sterling Publishing Company, Inc., 2006), 1632.

xxii Vincent, The Rise and Fall of American Sport, 152, Melville, Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League, 85-88.

xxiii Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 87-88, Melville, Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League, 92-96.

xxiv Pietrusza, Major Leagues, 38.

xxv Vincent, The Rise and Fall of American Sport, 146-50, Melville, Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League, 105-110, Voigt, American Baseball, 73, Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 99-100.

xxvi Vincent, The Rise and Fall of American Sport, 145.

xxvii Pietrusza, Major Leagues, 39.

xxviii Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 106.

xxix “The NL Adopts a Player Reservation System (1879).” Buffalo Commercial Advertiser, September 30, 1879, in Early Innings, ed. Sullivan, 114.

xxx Ibid, October 3, 1879 in Early Innings, ed. Sullivan, 114.

xxxi Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 108.

xxxii Pietrusza, Major Leagues, 43, Zimbalist, Andrew. Baseball and Billions: A Probing Look Inside the Big Business of Our National Pastime (New York: Basic Books; Penguin, 1994), 4.

xxxiii Melville, Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League, 115.

xxxiv Vincent, The Rise and Fall of American Sport, 136.

xxxv Melville, Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League, 112-13, Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 91.

xxxvi Melville, Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League, 113-14, Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 91-93.

xxxvii Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 119.

xxxviii Melville, Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League, 127.

xxxix Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years, 138-39.

xl Melville, Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League, 134.

xli Pietrusza, Major Leagues, 73.

xlii Melville, Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League, 132.

xliii Levine, Peter. A. C. Spalding and the Rise of Baseball: The Promise of American Sport (New York: Oxford University Press, 1985), 51-52.

xliv Melville, Early Baseball and the Rise of the National League, 101.

xlv See Levine, A. C. Spalding and the Rise of Baseball, 28-29, on Hulbert as mentor to Spalding, and Chapter 4, 49-70, on the role he played in the National League after Hulbert’s death.

The Western Baseball Tours Of 1879

Brock Helander

Even before the start of the 1879 National League campaign, several baseball clubs were reported to be contemplating post-season tours of the west. Despite the high cost associated with such undertakings, Chicago decided in April to make the trip and the Cincinnati club was also reported to be interested.

With professional sports still in its infancy, the infrastructure for such tours had to be built and run by the theater industry. Once Chicago contracted with theatrical promoter William Kelly in September, two other stage men, Jack Haverly and Robert Miles, pursued similar plans. Chicago, under Kelly, and Cincinnati, under Miles, initiated tours—but were preceded by forays taken by the Omaha and Rochester clubs.

The first inkling that an eastern baseball club was considering a western tour—a huge undertaking only previously done by the famous Cincinnati Red Stockings in 1869—came in December 1878, when Providence manager George Wright reportedly discussed such a trip.[i] In January, the New Bedford club of the National Association, managed by F. C. Bancroft, was said to be arranging a California tour, but such plans collapsed once Bancroft and his captain Jim Mutrie abandoned New Bedford in favor of Worcester.ii Around the same time, J. H. Montague of the San Francisco club in the Pacific Baseball League visited Eastern baseball cities in hopes of making arrangements for National League clubs to visit the Pacific coast.iii

In the meantime, baseball in San Francisco was changing. In February 1879, the Oakland club and the Athletic, Mutual, and California clubs of San Francisco resigned from the Pacific Baseball League and formed the California Baseball League. (J.H. Montague played for the last-named club in 1878.) The Pacific League would now be comprised of the Reno, Eagle, Star, and Knickerbocker clubs, all of San Francisco.iv

The New York Clipper published the schedules of both leagues in March. The Pacific League would play solely on Sundays at the Recreation Grounds in San Francisco, located at Twenty-fifth and Folsom Streets and seating 4,000. The grounds, opened November 26, 1868, hosted the famed Red Stockings of Cincinnati from September 25 to October 4, 1869. The Red Stockings won all seven games played there.[v]

The California League would play on Saturdays and Sundays, commencing April 6, at the new grounds on Fourteenth and Center Streets in Oakland.vi The Oakland Baseball Grounds, sometimes referred to as the Oakland Cricket Grounds, adjoined Oakland Trotting Park and sat 3,000.vii

In March 1879, the Chicago Times reported that Spalding brothers Albert and Walter, in regard to their western trade in baseball goods, had received inquiries from clubs in large far west towns concerning a potential visit by the Chicago club.viii The Chicago Tribune later stated that Al Spalding and Chicago and NL President William Hulbert had considered such an excursion.ix By April, the Chicago club had definitely decided to make the tour, scheduling a departure date of October 2.[x]

Within days, Cincinnati was reported also to be considering a western trip.xi In May, the New York Clipper announced that James H. Love, the superintendent of the newly-opened Oakland Baseball Grounds, was seeking to hear from clubs intent on visiting California.xii In June the Daily Alta California noted that the Pacific Baseball League was about to act on the proposition of the Chicago club to visit California.xiii Also in June, the Rochester club was reported contemplating a trip to California.xiv

Nonetheless, the first baseball club to travel to California was Omaha of the defunct Northwestern League. On July 9, Omaha’s players were paid off pursuant to the decision to disband and reorganize as a co-operative team.xv On their way to San Francisco, Omaha played the Deseret club of Salt Lake City on July 24, 25, and 26, winning the first two games 8–2 and 7–3 and losing the third 15–8.xvi They left July 27 and arrived in Sacramento three days later, defeating the Blue Stockings of Sacramento 11–7 August 2 at Agricultural Park.xvii

On Sunday, August 10, the Knickerbockers of San Francisco defeated Omaha 3-0 at the Recreation Grounds in San Francisco. Although attendance estimates varied widely, the New York Clipper pegged the crowd at more than 6,000 based on gate receipts.xviii On Sunday, August 17, Omaha and Oakland played a ten-inning 3–3 tie before a crowd estimated at nearly 4,000 at the Oakland Baseball Grounds.xix On August 24, the Knickerbockers defeated Omaha 2-1 before 4,000 in Oakland.xx One week later, Omaha returned to Sacramento and beat the Blue Stockings 14–7.xxi On Sunday, September 14 at the Recreation Grounds, Omaha bested the Knickerbockers 6–5 in 10 innings.xxii

The Rochester club, known as the Hop Bitters, was the next to travel west. The club had taken the place of the National Association’s disbanded Capital City of Albany club in May, and was largely comprised of players from the Capital City, including Richard Higham, John Manning, Tim Murnane, and Andy Leonard, with Joe Simmons as manager.xxiii The club’s membership in the National Association was a matter of dispute. Springfield manager Bob Ferguson had voted for the club’s admission, but, after he resigned in June, the club directors maintained that they had not approved Rochester’s admission.xxiv Furthermore, Rochester disbanded in mid-July, briefly reorganized as two teams, and then continued as a co-operative, although the Association Judiciary Committee had still not ruled on its membership by October.xxv

September 2 in Cleveland, the Hop Bitters defeated the amateur Forest Citys of Cleveland 3–0 in a game called after seven innings due to darkness.xxvi Four days later, in Chicago, the Hop Bitters swamped Dubuque 15–3.xxvii Dubuque, another former member of the Northwestern League, included a number of men who became well-known in baseball history: manager Ted Sullivan, Tom Loftus, Hoss Radbourn, brothers Bill and Jack Gleason, and Charles Comiskey. Moving on to Dubuque, the Hop Bitters again defeated that city’s club, 10–6 on September 8, lost to them 6–5 on September 9 and 10, and trounced them 12–2 on September 12.xxviii The clubs played two games on September 13, Rochester winning the morning game 8–1 and losing the afternoon game 6–3.xxix Continuing west, the Hop Bitters stopped in Salt Lake City, obliterating the Deserets on September 18 and 19, the latter date by a 28–3 score.xxx

The Rochester club arrived in San Francisco on the evening of September 23xxxi and played California League teams at the Oakland Grounds through October 11. On Sunday, September 28, Rochester plated six runs in the second inning and held on to beat the Mutuals 10–7 before 4,000 fans.xxxii They defeated the Athletics 21–2 on October 2, scoring 19 runs in the final three innings; the Oaklands 14–3 on Saturday, October 4; and the Californias 16–5 the following day.xxxiii On October 11, the Hop Bitters bested the recently-organized Haymakers 10–1 before a crowd described as “immense.” Sunday October 12, Rochester defeated the Knickerbockers 9–5 at the Recreation Grounds before an estimated 10,000, described as the largest crowd ever assembled on the Pacific Coast.xxxiv

On September 9, Chicago President William A. Hulbert signed a contract with the managers of the Bush Street Theater to send his team to California for a month.xxxv Charles E. Locke was the proprietor of the theater.xxxvi Theatrical promoter William W. Kelly of Chicago, originator of the Authors’ Carnival in San Francisco, would act as business manager of the team.xxxvii

Once word got out that Chicago would tour California, a flurry of baseball-related activity broke out involving other theatrical promoters. One party was represented by Robert Miles, of the Grand Opera House of Cincinnati, and Nick Roberts, of the Humpty Dumpty Troupe. Another was represented by Jack Haverly, manager of Haverly’s Theaters in Chicago and Brooklyn.xxxviii

Miles was reported to be endeavoring to secure the Providence and Cincinnati clubs for a San Francisco tour.xxxix Miles and Roberts reportedly engaged Buffalo and Cincinnati to visit California.xl In October the Clipper reported that Buffalo’s California trip had been abandoned and that several of its key players— Clapp, Galvin, Force, and Rowe—were wanted by the Cincinnati club.xli

Al Spalding, a great pitcher and an even greater entrepreneur. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

Haverly was said to be negotiating with Boston, Providence, and Cleveland, according to one account, and F. C. Bancroft of the Worcester club by another account.xlii Haverly closed an agreement on September 23 to take Providence to California, outbidding Miles. The deal guaranteed $2,000 and required that no games be played on Sunday.xliii

On September 29, the Boston Journal reported that the Boston club had entered into a contract with C. E. Lowell of Boston and Charles E. Converse of San Francisco for a western trip commencing October 13.xliv Boston subsequently abandoned the project, “owing to the failures of the parties who had contracted with the Bostons...to come to time.”xlv

On October 6, Joe Mack, manager of the Cleveland baseball team and connected with Haverly’s Brooklyn Theater, visited the office of the New York Clipper and stated that he had conducted the negotiations with Boston and Providence but had abandoned the project when Providence proved incapable of providing its strongest team. George Wright and Joe Start had declined to go.xlvi

The Chicago team, captained by first baseman Adrian “Cap” Anson, was just one win behind first-place Providence on August 15. For the season, the club had secured the services three players from defunct NL teams—outfielder Abner Dalrymple, once of Milwaukee, and catcher Frank “Silver” Flint and third baseman “Ned” Williamson, late of Indianapolis—as well as outfielder George Gore. These five players would anchor the Chicago team that would win five pennants from 1880 to 1886. Anson, however, began missing games in August due to liver problems and did not accompany the team on its final eastern trip, when it went 3–12–1 and suffered nine losses and one tie between September 3 and September 23.xlvii Chicago ultimately finished tied for third, three wins ahead of Cincinnati.

Prior to the departure of the Chicago club, the Chicago Tribune announced that Al Spalding, the secretary of the Chicago club, would accompany the team to California.xlviii The club also secured the services of pitcher Larry Corcoran, who had played for the National Association Springfield and Holyoke clubs, and pitcher Jim McCormick and shortstop Tom Carey of the Cleveland club, their early releases having been granted.xlix On September 29, expelled pitcher Edward “The Only” Nolan was reinstated, allowing National League clubs to play the Knickerbockers, for whom Nolan had been pitching.[l]

William Kelly arrived in Chicago September 27 and he and the Chicago team left town October 5.li They passed through Omaha October 6 and played games in Salt Lake City October 9, 10, and 11, defeating the Deseret team by the respective scores of 24–4, 14–0, and 13–9, McCormick pitching all three games.lii

The club arrived in San Francisco on the evening of October 14 and five days later defeated the Californias 13–0 at the Oakland Baseball Grounds before a mere 1,000.liii The Chicago club met opponents throughout the following week at the Recreation Grounds, besting the Athletics 8–2 on October 20, the Mutuals 23–0 on October 21, the Oaklands 11–1 on October 22, and the Mutuals again 11–1 on October 24.liv The Chicago club played two games on Saturday, October 25, trouncing the Mutuals 11–1 and, with Corcoran pitching, shut out the Oaklands 18–0.lv

The Cincinnati club, meanwhile, was in trouble even before it left town. The September 20 edition of the Clipper noted: “The Cincinnati players have received the requisite twenty days notice that their services will not be needed after Oct. 1.”lvi The Chicago Tribune, always eager to denigrate any rival, soon noted that a Cincinnati paper had reported that the club that would go to California would “not be the present Club...but the members of the Cincinnati Club reorganized.”lvii On September 29 the National League held a special meeting in Buffalo to discuss the salaries and contracts of players. Cincinnati was not represented by its president, J. Wayne Neff, but by Hulbert of the Chicago club.lviii

Robert Miles made arrangements for the trip to California on October 3, cobbling together a team including captain “Cal” McVey, Mike “King” Kelly, Pete Hotaling, and William “Blondie” Purcell of the Cincinnati club, Davy Force, John Clapp, James “Pud” Galvin, and John “Jack” Rowe of Buffalo, Charles “Pop” Smith of the disbanded NA’s Springfield team, and Charley Jones of Boston.lix Cincinnati catcher Jim White did not want to play on Sundays, so he was out, and John Reilly of the Cincinnati Star club replaced Jones, who was threatened with expulsion by Boston manager Harry Wright.lx

Miles, Nick Roberts, and the players left Cincinnati the evening of October 5, passing through Omaha on October 7 and arriving in San Francisco the evening of October 11.lxi On Sunday, October 12, Cincinnati shut out the Californias at the Oakland Grounds before a crowd variously estimated as 1,500 and 2,500.lxii The Rochester team, about to head east, was induced to stay and play Cincinnati on Sunday, October 19. Rochester suffered its first defeat on the Pacific Coast, losing 8–4 to Cincinnati before 5,000 people at the Recreation Grounds.lxiii

In October, the Clipper noted that “(t)he advent of the Eastern professional nines at San Francisco, Cal., has materially assisted in breaking up the local associations of that city.”lxiv Later it reported that the games presented by “the Chicagos and Cincinnatis broke up the series of championship games of the Pacific and California Leagues, the result being virtually settled, however, in favor of the Knickerbockers and Californias, respectively.”lxv

The Clipper observed: “The Chicagos, Cincinnatis and Rochesters had not, at latest advices, met with the pecuniary success anticipated in San Francisco, the public not taking kindly to the fifty-cent tariff, and not attending games except on Saturdays and Sundays.”lxvi The Clipper, however, subsequently reported: “The Rochesters’ recent trip to California was a successful one, pecuniarily and otherwise.”lxvii

On Sunday, October 26, Chicago and Cincinnati initiated a series of games at Recreation Park. Before a crowd estimated at 6,000, Chicago scored five runs in the eighth and defeated Cincinnati 9–4.lxviii The news emanating from the east, however, must have unsettled the Cincinnati players; the club’s directors met October 22 and resigned from the League the next day. The Star Club of Cincinnati then made application for admission to the National League.lxix

On October 27, Justus Thorner, president of the Star club, met with William Hulbert, the NL’s (and Chicago club’s) president. Hulbert guaranteed the admission of the Star club to the League, but also demonstrated that the five-man reservation rights of clubs agreed to at the September 29 League meeting did not allow the Star club to succeed to the reservation rights of the old Cincinnati club. Perhaps not coincidentally, Chicago had signed away Cincinnati’s Mike “King” Kelly for 1880 around October 16.lxx

Cincinnati, now a team in limbo, punished Corcoran’s pitching on November 1, defeating Chicago 12–5.lxxi The following day, Cincinnati again prevailed 5–1.lxxii On Saturday, November 8, Chicago scored the deciding run in the ninth inning, edging Cincinnati 3–2.lxxiii

On November 4, William Kelly was reported “dangerously ill” at the Palace Hotel.lxxiv Around this time, Nick Roberts had a row with Charles Locke and left San Francisco for the east.lxxv Evidence suggests that the financial arrangements of the Chicago and Cincinnati clubs had changed.lxxvi

Cincinnati and the Knickerbockers were scheduled to play on Sunday, November 16. But William J. Kohlman, manager of the newly-opened Union Grounds, had procured a writ of prohibition on Saturday night to “restrain Charles E. Locke, of the Bush-street Theatre, from playing a match game of base-ball between the Knickerbockers and Cincinnatis at the Recreation Grounds on Sunday, or playing any games in which the Cincinnati and Chicago club are interested.... Kohlman sets forth that he has a contract with Locke, under which he has the sole management of the Recreation Grounds until December 7th.”lxxvii

Earlier, Locke had leased a tract of land at Townsend and Seventh Streets for a baseball field seating 6,500. The initial match was intended to be a contest between Cincinnati and Chicago, but the Union Grounds did not open until November 2.lxxviii

In deference to the injunction, Cincinnati did not play the Knickerbockers—but Chicago did. Playing with Remsen replacing Anson at first base, and Corcoran in center field, Chicago defeated the Knickerbockers 5–4 before 2,500 despite seven strikeouts by Nolan.lxxix On November 18, Anson, Corcoran, and Flint left San Francisco for Chicago.lxxx Spalding had preceded them, arriving in Chicago November 11.lxxxi He called the trip disastrous, stating that “the club came out all right because their contract was guaranteed, but the projectors of the scheme lost money.”lxxxii

In its inimical style, the Chicago Tribune reported:

“From the members of the Chicago team who returned from California Sunday, and other sources, it is learned that the condition of the Cincinnati team which went to San Francisco several weeks ago is pitiable, the men being entirely without money either to live on or come home with. They were taken out there by somebody who alleged that Locke, of the Bush Street Theatre, San Francisco, was interested in the snap, but that individual declined to assume a responsibility which seemed to include only the paying out of money. Nick Roberts, who took the crowd across the Continent, came back some time ago, but the unfortunate players could not follow his example, as it takes money to travel. (T)wo weeks ago the men were far behind in the payment of board, and in hourly expectation of being violently ejected from the hotel upon which they had conferred their disastrous patronage.”lxxxiii

Kohlman next engaged the Cincinnati players and the remaining Chicago players for a series of games at the Recreation Grounds.lxxxiv On November 22, in the best game yet played by the eastern clubs, Cincinnati beat Chicago 1–0, the winning run scoring on Rowe’s ninth-inning home run. On Sunday November 23, before 2,500, Cincinnati defeated the Knickerbockers 7–4.lxxxv Four days later, on Thanksgiving Day, the Knickerbockers subdued Chicago 6–4 as Nolan struck out nine.lxxxvi This was the first victory by a home club since the easterners arrived. In what was announced as the last game of the season, the Knickerbockers defeated Chicago 14–9 on December 7 in front of a meager 500.lxxxvii

The December 17 edition of the Cincinnati Enquirer gave this account of the trip to California:

“(Cal) McVey... persuaded Manager Bob Miles of the Grand Opera-house that it would be a grand success, and Miles agreed to back it with his money. The trip might have been made to pay expenses, at least, had it been well managed. Therein lies the miserable failure. Nick Roberts, after taking the team across, stayed but two or three weeks, and then came home, turning everything over to Locke of the Bush-street Theatre....

“Locke was the man who was to manage the affair on the Pacific Slope, and put up half the money. The firm of Locke & Miles then took half-interest in the Chicago venture, and they thus got still deeper in the complication. (Miles) wrote to Sam Colville of the Folly Company, who has been in San Francisco all Winter, and who is a sort of half-partner of Miles.”

Ned Williamson, mainstay Chicago third baseman. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

A letter from Colville, dated December 3, reckoned the accounts of the two ball clubs, showing Chicago’s gross loss as $4,776.05, Cincinnati’s gross loss as $3,566.18, and Miles’ loss as $2,977.09. The letter continues: “To sum up the whole matter, I consider this speculation the worst-managed affair that ever was attempted, and in relation to which I consider Roberts censurable.”

The article continues: “Mr. Miles immediately telegraphed $1,250 to Mr. Colville, wherewith to settle the outstanding claims and bring the team to Cincinnati. Mr. Colville made the mistake of putting the money into Locke’s hands, instead of applying it himself to the debts of the team. Locke was ‘way in the hole,’ to use an idiom of speech, and he pocketed the money.”

A series of dispatches ensued. John Clapp, in a missive dated December 13 wrote to Miles: “There are five weeks’ board-bill and three weeks’ salaries due. We cannot get our tickets. What do you intend doing? Answer quick.” Another dispatch, also dated December 13, from Charles “Pop” Smith, read: “JUSTUS THORNER, Cincinnati Baseball Association: Send $100 at once. Locke has gone back on us. No way to get home. Answer immediately.”

“Finally Manager Miles yesterday telegraphed Mr. Colville as follows: ‘SAMUEL COLVILLE, Bush-street Theatre, San Francisco, Cal.: Clapp telegraphs that he starts to-day, paying his own fare. If Locke don’t settle with the club, make him refund, as he holds me.”

The article concludes: “Nobody will be the loser but Mr. Miles, and he has come out of the affair with clean hands and another proof added to his reputation for honest business transactions.”lxxxviii

Clapp left San Francisco on December 16 and later denied the stories about the Cincinnatis’ extreme distress in San Francisco.lxxxix Kelly, Hotaling, Purcell, Force, Smith, and Reilly arrived in Cincinnati on December 28. The Cincinnati Daily Star noted: “The boys are looking well and hearty and express themselves much pleased with their trip.”xc

William Kelly had the final word. In a letter to the Clipper, from the Palace Hotel, dated January 7, he stated:

“The baseball venture was, I admit, a disastrous failure, but I invested my money willingly, and had sufficient confidence in the enterprise to believe that I should be well repaid for my investment; but, unfortunately, I associated with me as a partner Chas. E. Locke of the Bush-street Theatre, whose lack of knowledge, etc., of both clubs compelled me to lose every dollar I had placed in the enterprise. Mr. Locke not only deprived me of the management and receipts of the ball-matches, but while I was East securing the players he took charge of the ‘Authors’ Carnival,’ which I originated here, and pocketed several thousand dollars made thereby, without surrendering to me the half I was entitled to by agreement; a threatened lawsuit, however, brought him partially to his senses, and he is now endeavoring to effect a settlement with my attorneys.

“R. E. J. Miles of Cincinnati is fully exonerated from any blame, for I know positively that he sent sufficient money to return the club several days before they started, Locke merely retaining them here so that they would be obliged to accept his fifty-cents-on-the-dollar proposition. Both clubs could have been made to pay with proper management, had not Nick Roberts and myself been forced from the field. The result was a total loss of $9,000, with R. E. J. Miles and myself principal losers ‘by a large majority.’”xci

At the NL’s annual meeting, held December 3 in Buffalo, the resignation of the old Cincinnati club was placed on file and the Star club admitted to membership by unanimous vote. The Star club was represented by O. P. Caylor and Justus Thorner, who was elected to the Board of Directors.xcii The stockholders of the new Cincinnati club met on December 22 and elected Thorner president.xciii Of the tour players, Cincinnati retained John Clapp, Charles “Pop” Smith, William “Blondie” Purcell, and John Reilly of the old Star club. Davy Force, James “Pud” Galvin, and John “Jack” Rowe returned to the Buffalo club, staying into 1885, the club’s final season. “Cal” McVey, however, remained in San Francisco and never played in the National League again.

For Chicago, in addition to the players who went on tour and remained through the five pennant-winning campaigns in seven years, Mike “King” Kelly played for Chicago through 1886. Second baseman Joe Quest played for Chicago through 1882 and Larry Corcoran, once signed, went 170–83 for the club from 1880–1884. Jim McCormick returned to Cleveland and posted a record of 135–100 from 1880 to 1883.

Despite the financial losses, the tours of the Omaha, Rochester, Cincinnati, and Chicago clubs aroused interest in baseball in Omaha, Dubuque, Salt Lake City, San Francisco, and Oakland. Furthermore, the tours drew national attention in the New York Clipper. Frank Bancroft and the Worcester team did tour after the season, going to Cuba billed as the Hop Bitters on the first international journey since the 1874 tour of England by the Boston Red Stockings and the Athletics of Philadelphia.xciv

i Chicago Tribune, December 8, 1878, p. 7.

ii Cleveland Leader, January 22, 1879, p. 7; New York Clipper, February 1, 1879; Chicago Tribune, February 2, 1879, p. 11; Chicago Tribune, March 23, 1879, p. 11.

iii Chicago Tribune, February 9, 1879, p. 7.

iv San Francisco Bulletin, February 13, 1879, p. 2; Sacramento Daily Union, February 14, 1879.

v New York Clipper, March 8, 1879; November 27, 1868, Daily Alta California (San Francisco); 19cbaseball.com/tours-1867-1870-cincinnati-red-stockings-tour-3.html

vi New York Clipper, March 22, 1879.

vii Sacramento Daily Union, April 12, 1879; New York Clipper, February 22, 1879; New York Clipper, March 22, 1879; New York Clipper, April 19, 1879; Daily Alta California, May 10, 1879.

viii Chicago Times, March 30, 1879, as cited at summerofjeff.wordpress.com/2011/08/18-chicago-white-stockings-notes-from-chicago-tribune-and-times/

ix Chicago Tribune, September 28, 1879, p. 7.

x Chicago Tribune, April 1, 1879, p. 5; (Cleveland) Plain Dealer, April 12, 1879, p. 1; New York Clipper, April 12, 1879.

xi Cleveland Leader, April 9, 1879, p. 3, citing the Boston Herald.

xii New York Clipper, May 17, 1879.

xiii Daily Alta California, June 2, 1879.

xiv Boston Herald, June 5, 1879, p. 1; New York Clipper, June 14, 1879.

xv Omaha Daily Herald, July 10, 1879, p. 8.

xvi Omaha Daily Herald, July 27, 1879, p. 8.

xvii Omaha Daily Herald, July 31, 1879, p. 8; Sacramento Daily Union, July 31, 1879; Sacramento Dally Union, p. August 4, 1879.

xviii San Francisco Chronicle, August 11, 1879, p. 3; Omaha Daily Herald, August 12, 1879, p. 8; New York Tribune, August 19, 1879, p. 8; New York Clipper, August 23, 1879.

xix Daily Alta California, August 18, 1879; New York Clipper, August 30, 1879.

xx New York Clipper, p. September 6, 1879.

xxi Sacramento Daily Union, September 1, 1879.

xxii Daily Alta California, September 15, 1879; New York Clipper, October 4, 1879.

xxiii Watertown (New York) Daily Times, May 10, 1879, p. 3; Boston Globe, May 21, 1879, p. 1; New York Clipper, May 31, 1879.

xxiv Springfield (Mass.) Republican, June 5, 1879, p. 5; Springfield Republican, July 31, 1879, p. 5; New York Clipper, August 16, 1879.

xxv New Haven Register, July 21, 1879, p. 1; Brooklyn Eagle, July 18, 1879, p. 3; New York Clipper, July 26, 1879; New York Clipper, October 11, 1879.

xxvi (Cleveland) Plain Dealer, September 3, 1879, p. 1; Cleveland Leader, September 3, 1879, p. 8.

xxvii Chicago Tribune, September 7, 1879, p. 7.

xxviii Omaha Daily Herald, September 9, 1879, p. 1; Omaha Daily Herald, September 10, 1879, p. 5; Omaha Daily Herald, September 11, 1879, p. 1; (Chicago) Daily InterOcean, September 13, 1879, p. 2.

xxix (Chicago) Daily InterOcean, September 15, 1879, p. 6.

xxx Salt Lake Daily Tribune, September 19, 1879, p. 4; Salt Lake Daily Tribune, September 20, 1879, p. 4.

xxxi San Francisco Chronicle, September 26, 1879, p. 1.

xxxii San Francisco Chronicle, September 29, 1879, p. 5.

xxxiii San Francisco Bulletin, October 3, 1879, p. 1; San Francisco Chronicle, October 5, 1879, p. 8; San Francisco Chronicle, October 6, 1879, p. 3.

xxxiv Daily Alta California, October 8, 1879; San Francisco Bulletin, October 13, 1879, p. 2; New York Clipper, October 25, 1879.

xxxv Chicago Tribune, September 11, 1879, p. 5.

xxxvi Daily Alta California, June 3, 1879.

xxxvii Chicago Tribune, September 28, 1879, p. 7; Daily Alta California, November 4, 1879.

xxxviii New York Clipper, May 24, 1879.

xxxix Chicago Tribune, September 21, 1879, p. 7.

xl Cincinnati Daily Star, September 24, 1879, p. 7; St. Louis Globe-Democrat, September 25, 1879, p. 3.

xli New York Clipper, October 11, 1879.

xlii New Haven Register, September 22, 1879, p. 4; Springfield Republican, September 22, 1879, p. 5; Cleveland Leader, September 23, 1879, p. 5.

xliii Cleveland Leader, September 25, 1879, p. 3, citing the Cincinnati Enquirer; St. Louis Globe-Democrat, September 25, 1879, p. 3; New York Clipper, October 4, 1879.

xliv Boston Journal, September 29, 1879, p. 4.

xlv Chicago Tribune, October 26, 1879, p. 7, citing the Boston Herald.

xlvi Cleveland Leader, October 10, 1879, p. 8; New York Clipper, October 11, 1879.

xlvii Chicago Tribune, August 14, 1879, p. 5; Chicago Tribune, August 24, 1879, p. 7.

xlviii Chicago Tribune, September 14, 1879, p. 7.

xlix Springfield Republican, September 22, 1879, p. 5; Cleveland Leader, September 22, 1879, p. 8.

l (Chicago) Daily InterOcean, October 1, 1879, p. 2.

li Chicago Tribune, September 28, 1879, p. 7; Chicago Tribune, October 5, 1879, p. 7.

lii Sacramento Daily Union, October 7, 1879; Salt Lake Daily Tribune, October 10, 1879, p. 4; Salt Lake Daily Tribune, October 11, 1879, p. 4; Salt Lake Daily Tribune, October 12, 1879, p. 4; New York Clipper, October 25, 1879.

liii San Francisco Bulletin, October 15, 1879, p. 3; San Francisco Bulletin, October 20, 1879, p. 3; New York Clipper, November 1, 1879.

liv San Francisco Bulletin, October 21, 1879, p. 3; San Francisco Bulletin, October 22, 1879, p. 1; San Francisco Bulletin, October 23, 1879, p. 2; San Francisco Bulletin, October 25, 1879, p. 4.

lv New York Tribune, October 27, 1879, p. 1; New York Clipper, November 1, 1879. The New York Tribune had the Mutuals’ game at the Recreation Grounds and the Oakland’s games in Oakland. The New York Clipper had both games played in San Francisco.

lvi New York Clipper, September 20, 1879.

lvii Chicago Tribune, September 21, 1879, p. 7.

lviii Chicago Tribune, September 30, 1879, p. 5.

lix (Chicago) Daily InterOcean, October 4, 1879, p. 2.

lx Cleveland Leader, October 6, 1879, p. 8; Cincinnati Commercial Tribune, October 6, 1879, p. 4; Chicago Tribune, October 12, 1879, p. 7.

lxi Cincinnati Commercial Tribune, October 5, 1879, p. 1; Daily Alta California, October 8, 1879; San Francisco Bulletin, October 11, 1879, p. 4.

lxii Daily Alta California, October 13, 1879; New York Clipper, October 25, 1879.

lxiii Sacramento Daily Union, October 18, 1879; San Francisco Bulletin, October 20, 1879, p. 3.

lxiv New York Clipper, October 25, 1879.

lxv New York Clipper, November 22, 1879.

lxvi New York Clipper, November 8, 1879.

lxvii New York Clipper, November 29, 1879.

lxviii San Francisco Bulletin, October 27, 1879, p. 1; Daily Alta California, October 27, 1879; New York Clipper, November 8, 1879.

lxix Cincinnati Commercial Tribune, October 24, 1879, p. 8.

lxx Chicago Tribune, October 28, 1879, p. 7; Chicago Tribune, October 17, 1879, p. 5.

lxxi Daily Alta California, November 2, 1879; New York Clipper, November 15, 1879.

lxxii Daily Alta California, November 3, 1879.

lxxiii San Francisco Chronicle, November 9, 1879; Daily Alta California, November 10, 1879; New York Clipper, November 22, 1879.

lxxiv Daily Alta California, November 4, 1879.

lxxv New York Clipper, November 15, 1879.

lxxvi A lengthy article from the December 17 edition of the Cincinnati Enquirer, reprinted in the December 27 issue of the New York Clipper, irresponsibly referring to Kelly’s illness as a suicide attempt, stated: “It was after this occurrence that the managers of the other team (Cincinnati) made the mistake of taking up the Chicago team, thereby sinking still more money.” New York Clipper, December 27, 1879. Also rumors circulated that the two clubs had agreed to play five games, the winner to receive $500 or $1,000 plus game receipts. San Francisco Chronicle, November 9, 1879, p. 4; Cleveland Leader, November 13, 1879, p. 5; New York Clipper, November 15, 1879. Al Spalding and the Chicago Tribune vehemently denied the allegations. Chicago Tribune, November 12, 1879, p. 6; Chicago Tribune, November 23, 1879, p. 11.

lxxvii San Francisco Bulletin, November 17, 1879, p. 1.

lxxviii San Francisco Bulletin, October 16, 1879, p. 1; Daily Alta California, November 1, 1879; Daily Alta California, November 4, 1879; New York Clipper, November 15, 1879.

lxxix San Francisco Bulletin, November 17, 1879, p. 1; New York Clipper, December 6, 1879.

lxxx San Francisco Bulletin, November 19, 1879, p. 3; Chicago Tribune, November 24, 1879, p. 5.

lxxxi Chicago Tribune, November 12, 1879, p. 6.

lxxxii (Chicago) Daily InterOcean, November 22, 1879, p. 7.

lxxxiii Chicago Tribune, November 25, 1879, p. 5.

lxxxiv New York Clipper, November 22, 1879. A few days earlier, the San Francisco Bulletin had reported that “Messrs. Fritz and Shear, managers of the Recreation Grounds, have engaged seven of the Chicago Club...to play here during the winter months.” San Francisco Bulletin, November 19, 1879, p. 3.

lxxxv San Francisco Bulletin, November 24, 1879, p. 2; New York Clipper, December 6, 1879.

lxxxvi San Francisco Bulletin, November 28, 1879, p. 2; New York Clipper, December 13, 1879.

lxxxvii Cleveland Leader, December 16, 1879, p. 3; New York Clipper, December 27, 1879.

lxxxviii New York Clipper, December 27, 1879, reprinted from the December 17 edition of the Cincinnati Enquirer.

lxxxix New York Clipper, January 3, 1880.

xc Cincinnati Daily Star, December 29, 1879, p. 8; New York Clipper, January 10, 1880.

xci New York Clipper, January 24, 1880.

xcii New York Clipper, December 13, 1879.

xciii New York Clipper, January 30, 1880.

xciv New York Clipper, November 29, 1879.

The Legacy of the Players’ League 1890 Chicago Pirates

Gordon Gattie

During the late 1880s, professional baseball players became increasingly frustrated with the reserve clause, an outgrowth of the reserve rule established by National League (NL) owners in 1879. Arthur Soden, who served as a managing partner for the NL’s Boston Beaneaters, has been credited with creating the reserve rule. Soden and other NL owners argued that professional baseball would remain more stable, and thus more profitable, if franchises could maintain some stability in their rosters from year to year.

The reserve rule was originally a secret agreement among NL club owners affecting only five players; eventually, the formal reserve clause became part of the standard player’s contract. At first, some players enjoyed the security associated with a roster spot and corresponding salary over the intervening off-season, but the owners quickly realized the reserve rule could be used to limit player salaries in addition to player movement.

Several players took issue with owners limiting their rights. Led by star player and activist John Montgomery Ward, the Brotherhood of Professional Baseball Players formed in 1885. This organization led to the creation of the Players' National League of Professional Base Ball Clubs (PL) for the 1890 season. The Chicago Pirates, the Windy City’s entry into the PL, featured key personnel such as right fielder Hugh Duffy, starting pitcher Mark Baldwin, and first baseman/manager Charles Comiskey.

Although the Chicago Pirates, and the PL, lasted only one season, the team and league significantly affected, among other things, the quality and quantity of players moving between leagues for three tumultuous years, baseball attendance, and the development of Charles Comiskey’s managerial style.

Ward helped found the Brotherhood of Professional Base Ball Players to address the owners’ unwillingness to better compensate players as the sport’s popularity increased. The goals of this first serious attempt at organizing professional ballplayers were to increase player salaries and abolish the reserve rule. A graduate of Columbia Law School, the erudite Ward penned the Brotherhood’s Manifesto, in which he compared the reserve clause with a fugitive slave law.

The Brotherhood Manifesto was issued on November 4, 1889, the same time that the NL distributed its contracts for the following season.[i] In spite of growing protest, National League owners were still reluctant to work with the Brotherhood; in fact, in response, owners established a salary ceiling and began to charge players a fee for uniform rental. This final straw drove Brotherhood leaders Ward, Dan Brouthers, and Tim Keefe to turn away from the NL and create the Players’ League.

Hugh Duffy with the Chicago Nationals in 1888, two years before he starred with the Chicago Pirates (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

Offering higher salaries and improved working conditions, the PL—which received assistance from some NL star players and the American Federation of Labor—snared 56 players from the NL and quickly rose in stature above the American Association to directly rival the NL. The PL featured eight entries in its lone season: Boston, Brooklyn, Buffalo, Chicago, Cleveland, New York, Philadelphia, and Pittsburgh. Each PL entry competed directly with a National League counterpart, except for the Buffalo Bisons. Brooklyn and Philadelphia now had three professional teams, with representatives in the AA, the PL, and the NL.ii

The Chicago Pirates played their home games at what is now known as South Side Park II, at 35th Street and South Wentworth Avenue.iii The fledgling Pirates fought with their NL counterparts, the Colts, for fans all season long. The Colts, formerly called the Chicago White Stockings from the NL’s inception in 1876, are now the Chicago Cubs.

The Pirates and Colts played their home games in different ballparks and had 48 conflicting dates out of 70 total home games. iv The Pirates ended the 1890 season in fourth place with a 75–62 record, and the club featured several statistical league leaders, including outfielder Hugh Duffy (161 runs, 191 hits), pitcher Mark Baldwin (33 wins, 53 complete games, 206 strikeouts), and pitcher Silver King (2.69 ERA).[v] Table 1 shows the PL 1890 standings.

Table 1. 1890 Players’ League standings.vi

The Boston Reds, led by future Hall of Famers King Kelly (manager and utilityman), first baseman Dan Brouthers, and pitcher Old Hoss Radbourn, won the pennant. Kelly was on the downside of his career, but still provided a strong gate attraction after coming over from the National League’s Boston Beaneaters. Dan Brouthers led the PL with a .466 OBA, finished third with a 4.4 offensive Wins Above Replacement (WAR), and finished fourth with 36 doubles. In addition to his baseball talents, Brouthers served as the vice president of the Players League Brotherhood Associationvii. Radbourn completed the season third in the PL with a 3.31 ERA, fourth in wins with 27, and in the top 10 in most pitching categories.

Notable batting leaders included Cleveland’s Pete Browning (.373) and Brooklyn’s Dave Orr (.371), the Giants’ Roger Connor (.998 OPS, 14 HR, 6.0 WAR), Harry Stovey from the Boston Reds (97 stolen bases), and the Reds’ Hardy Richardson (146 RBI). Chicago’s Baldwin and King were the dominant pitchers that season; other pitching leaders included Boston’s Bill Daley (.720 winning percentage), New York’s John Ewing (4.88 strikeouts/nine innings), and Pittsburgh’s Harry Staley (.290 opponents’ on base percentage).

Jimmy Ryan played with the Chicago Nationals from 1885 through 1900…except for 1890, when he played with the Pirates in the PL. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

John Montgomery Ward enjoyed a solid 1890 season, considering the off-field distraction of his wife leaving him that Aprilviii. In addition to guiding Brooklyn to a second-place finish and anchoring the infield at shortstop, he finished third in hits (188), fourth in runs (134), and fifth in stolen bases (63). Ward had devoted significant time and resources to the PL; Albert Spalding allegedly told Ward that without his efforts, the PL could not have existedix.

Although the Chicago Pirates finished fourth, they were critical to the league, obtaining seven players from the NL’s Chicago White Stockings (shortstop Charlie Bastian, catcher/infielder Dell Darling, outfielder Duffy, pitcher Frank Dwyer, second baseman Fred Pfeffer, outfielder Jimmy Ryan, and infielder Ned Williamson) and four players from the AA’s St. Louis Browns (catcher Jack Boyle, first baseman/manager Comiskey, starting pitcher King, and third baseman Arlie Latham). Comiskey was instrumental in founding the team, which required him to leave St. Louis; he played for eight years with the Brown Stockings. Comiskey forfeited a potential $8,000 salary with the Browns for the 1890 season to join the upstart league and manage the Pirates in his native city.[x]

Comiskey was injured in the latter half of the season, and did not compile outstanding statistics (88 games, .244 batting average, 59 RBI, 34 SB). His managerial talents, however, gained notice. He played hurt and was determined to set a good example for his players and. He expected his players to be ready for every game, and his 1890 pitching staff was the best in the league. Comiskey was known for removing players not meeting expectations and for his good eye for spotting talent.

The Players’ League ceased operations following the 1890 season, and two of its clubs (the Boston Reds and Philadelphia Athletics) joined the American Association. The Reds won the 1891 AA Championship, while the Philadelphias finished fifth. Both teams ceased to exist, however, when the AA summarily folded. The Chicago Pirates, along with teams from Brooklyn, New York, and Pittsburgh, merged with the NL teams from their respective cities after the 1890 season.xi

The NL owners clamped down even harder on its players following the collapse of the PL in 1890 and the AA after 1891. Interestingly, more than half of the 1890 Pirates did not return to the same league for 1891 as they had played in during 1889, including league leaders Duffy, Baldwin, and King, with catcher Duke Farrell, third baseman Latham, catcher Darling, and pitcher Frank Dwyer. Both Baldwin and King joined the 1891 Pittsburgh Pirates, while Dwyer split the 1891 season between two AA clubs. The other member of the Pirates’ pitching staff, Charlie Bartson, did not reach The Show again; 1890 was his only big-league season.

Three other players, most notably Comiskey, returned to their pre-1890 clubs, while two players returned to the NL for different teams than in 1889. Three players (Ryan, Duffy, and Farrell) played more than 1,200 games with different clubs after the 1890 season. The remaining three (Bastian, Williamson, and Bartson) played fewer than three games in adjacent years. Table 2 depicts player movement from 1889 to 1891, along with games played following the 1890 season.

Table 2. 1890 Chicago Pirates roster with adjacent seasons.

One argument raised by ballplayers in favor of the Players’ League was the notion that fans attended games to see the players, not the managers or owners. The attendance figures among the three different leagues from the 1890 season provide evidence for their sentiment. The PL had the highest overall league attendance and average attendance per city among the three major leagues. Interestingly, the lone city in which the PL and NL directly competed and the NL enjoyed a higher attendance figure was Brooklyn, where Ward managed. The NL’s lead may be partially attributable to the Brooklyn Bridegrooms winning the 1890 NL pennant, stars such as Oyster Burns and Hub Collins, and the history already associated with the NL. Chicago’s PL entry notably outdrew the Chicago’s NL Colts, who finished second behind Brooklyn and included Cap Anson on their roster.

The PL significantly outdrew NL in Pittsburgh (by 101,059) & New York (by 87,530). The AA apparently had higher attendance figures than the NL; the AA, however, drew fewer patrons than the other two leagues in the two three-league cities (Brooklyn and Philadelphia). American Association teams were based in smaller cities and were considered by NL owners a lesser threat than those in the PL.

Table 3 depicts the attendance figures for cities with entries in any of the three major leagues that season, with the caveat that “official” attendance figures from the time are not prized for their accuracy.

Table 3. 1890 attendance figures.xii

The PL’s capitulation after the 1890 season is primarily attributable to financial backers who betrayed the players. On January 16, 1891, the Players’ League officially ceased existence. The PL arguably had a stronger following, but did not have the financial resources to compete with the established NL. Following the 1890 season, the New York and Brooklyn owners negotiated with the National League and ceased operations. Interestingly, the New York Giants played their games at Brotherhood Park, the third structure known as the Polo Grounds and the one the NL’s New York Giants played in until 1957. Unsubstantiated claims of financial mismanagement have been attributed to various individuals through the years, and the PL ceased existence with a negative bank balance. The PL was led by men with baseball knowledge but little financial knowledge; the NL was led by men with some baseball knowledge and greater financial acumen. In the end, the PL leadership could not match the NL’s financial management.xiii

After the PL folded, Comiskey returned to St. Louis to manage and play first base for the American Association’s St. Louis Browns. The Browns finished second to the AA’s version of the Boston Reds, a team still filled with stars such as Brouthers and Daley from the previous PL season. Hugh Duffy joined the championship Boston Reds in the AA for the 1891 season then played for the NL’s Boston Beaneaters from 1892 through 1900 before finishing his career with the 1906 Philadelphia Phillies. Both Comiskey and Duffy were later elected to Baseball’s Hall of Fame.

In a fashion similar to the PL-NL war of 1890, the NL and AA maintained tense relations during 1891. There were disagreements regarding player contracts between leagues, and NL eventually bought out Boston, Columbus, Milwaukee, and Washington following the season; only Washington joined Baltimore, Louisville, and St. Louis for the 1892 NL season. Comiskey’s only option for playing professional baseball during the 1892 season was to play in Cincinnati; his only NL action came with the Reds from 1892–1894.

Marcus Baldwin, who was 33-24 for the 1890 Chicago Pirates. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

Following the 1894 season, Comiskey purchased the Western League’s Sioux City Cornhuskers and moved the club to St. Paul, Minnesota, renaming it the St. Paul Apostles. Comiskey owned, managed, and even sparingly played with St. Paul from 1895 through 1899. During these years, Comiskey strengthened his partnership with Western League president Ban Johnson. Comiskey and Johnson met while the latter was the sporting editor of Murat Halsted’s Commercial Gazette and formed a mutual admiration. Eventually the two led the effort to turn the minor Western League into the major American League, directly competing with the National League for supremacy in the national pastime.

Comiskey continued evolving his managerial style while he played and managed during the 1890s. One lesson he learned from his PL tenure was that players and promoters should be separated; from his perspective, players didn’t know enough about financial requirements, while promoters didn’t understand the game itself. Another lesson concerned player readiness, and he learned to gain as much performance from his players as possible.

Although the Chicago Pirates lasted a single season in the short-lived Players’ League, their central role in facilitating player movement among three different leagues, the impact on overall baseball attendance (with emphasis on fans attending games to see star players), and contribution to Comiskey’s approach to running baseball organizations on and off the field in St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Chicago, provide key insights into team and league creation and sustainment.

References

Alexson, G.W. (1919). Commy: The Life Story of Charles A. Comiskey. Chicago: The Reilly & Lee Co.

BaseballChronology.com (2014). http://www.baseballchronology.com/baseball/Years/1890/Attendance.asp. Accessed December 15, 2014.

Koszarek, Ed (2006). The Players League: History, Clubs, Ballplayers, and Statistics. Jefferson, NL: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers.

Lewis, Ethan L. (2001). “A Structure to Last Forever: The Players’ League and the Brotherhood War of 1890”. Published on Web; accessed 15 November 2014.

Lowry, Philip J. (2006). Green Cathedrals: The Ultimate Celebration of Major League and Negro League Ballparks. New York: Walker & Company.

Pietrusza, David (2005). Major Leagues: The Formation, Sometimes Absorption and Mostly Inevitable Demise of 18 Professional Baseball Organizations, 1871 to Present. Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company.

Sports Reference (2014). http://www.baseball-reference.com/. Accessed December 15, 2014.

Thorn, John; Palmer, Pete; Gershman, Michael; and Pietrusza (2004). Total Baseball: The Official Encyclopedia of Major League Baseball. New York: Viking Press.

Thorn, John (2011). Baseball in the Garden of Eden: The Secret History of the Early Game. New York: Simon & Schuster.

i Thorn, 2011.

ii Thorn, Palmer, Gershman, and Pietrusza, 2004.

iii Lowry, 2006.

iv Lewis, 2001.

v Thorn, Palmer, Gershman, and Pietrusza, 2004.

vi Thorn, Palmer, Gershman, and Pietrusza, 2004.

vii Koszarek, 2006.

viii Koszarek, 2006.

ix Koszarek, 2006.

x Alexson, 1919.

xi Pietrusza, 2005.

xii BaseballChronology.com, 2014.

xiii Koszarek, 2006.

There Was Almost No World Series In 1905, Too: How Charlie Comiskey Could Have Ended the Fall Classic Before it Started

Chuck Hildebrandt

The morning of October 4, 1905, broke as had many other early autumn days over the prior four decades: with baseball teams locked in the throes of a pennant race.

This season it was Charles Comiskey’s White Stockings of Chicago pitted against Connie Mack’s Athletics of Philadelphia in the nascent American League, and unlike some late-season pennant “races” of previous years, this was a pretty good one.

The Mack Men, who’d won the 1902 American League pennant but had been barely above average since, were authoring a splendid season thus far, having won 89 of the 143 games they’d played [i], a .622 winning percentage. But the Comiskeys had also won 89 contests, albeit of 147 ii, and thus stood a mere two games behind the Philly Americans with six games left on the docket for each club. iii With the remaining games for both clubs coming against now-and-future bottom feeders St. Louis Browns and Washington Senators, it was no stretch to conjure up a scenario in which the Sox would run the table while the Athletics win only half their games, thus handing the pennant to the Pale Hose.

That’s not the way August “Garry” Herrmann saw it, though. Herrmann, owner of the Cincinnati Reds, was also “chief justice” of baseball’s National Commission—aka its “Supreme Court”—making him at least somewhat analogous to today’s baseball commissioner. iv The day before, Herrmann had seen fit to release to the press the details of the 1905 world’s championship series, which would definitely begin the following Monday in … Philadelphia. The series would move to New York the following day and alternate between the two cities until the seventh game, the location of which, if necessary, would be determined by the commission. [v]

It was a fine plan that made a lot of logical sense, except for one minor detail: the Philadelphias had not yet clinched the pennant. Despite being two games behind with six left to play and widely considered the underdog, the White Stockings were still very much in it.

This, of course, did not escape the notice of Comiskey, who blasted Herrmann’s faux pas the following day: “The action of the commission is an outrage,” said Comiskey. “If my club can cut down a lead of seven games to half a game in two weeks, why can’t they overcome a two and one-half [sic] games lead in one week? … Such action is hardly calculated to instill confidence in baseball managers and players when their rivals, whose lead is still possible to overcome, are declared the winners before they have won the pennant.” vi

And then the kicker: “[The commission] have counted me out, and I must take the count. I will stay counted out no matter what happens, and have closed arrangements with the local National league [sic] club for the contingent post season series next week. No matter whether the Sox win the pennant or not they have already been counted out of the world’s championship series, and counted out they will stay … even though the Sox should yet win the pennant they will play the [Cubs] and let the officially declared winners, the Athletics, play the Giants as officially planned.” vii

Let’s consider this situation for a brief moment. It is well known among even casual baseball fans that the first modern “world’s championship series”—what we now know as the World Series—had been played for the first time only two seasons prior, and despite inconsistent attendance was a huge success. The Boston Americans shut out the “Pittsburg” Nationals 3–0 in the series’ clinching game “to the almost frenzied delight of 7,000 enthusiasts,” a contest which, even though the most sparsely attended of the eight Series games, evinced a “demonstration which followed [pitcher Bill] Dineen’s striking out of Hans [sic] Wagner in the ninth [that] equaled any college football game.” Afterwards, the victorious Americans were “borne to their dressing-rooms on the shoulders of thousands and the cheering lasted many minutes.” viii The New York Times, the nation’s vaunted “newspaper of record,” unambiguously referred to Boston’s prize as being the “world’s baseball championship,” ix thus ratifying the Series’ claim to pre-eminence as the nonpareil title for the sport.

It is also well known that John McGraw, the leader of the National League’s 1904 pennant-winning New York Giants, refused to allow his team to play in a World Series against whichever American League team would qualify. The move was a testament to his hatred of American League president Ban Johnson, an animosity stretching back to McGraw’s tenure as the first manager of the league’s original Baltimore Orioles, which ended in July 1902 when Johnson suspended McGraw indefinitely for refusing an umpire’s ejection, and its subsequent walk in full view of the jeering cranks to the team’s clubhouse clear across the field. [x]

McGraw immediately fled the team and the league, taking the helm of the Giants that same month xi and bringing his burning contempt for Johnson with him. McGraw’s disdain for the chief executive of the Junior Circuit wasn’t enough to keep “Muggsy” from agreeing to play in the 1905 Series, however; any lingering objections were likely overcome by the Giants players’ deep unhappiness at not being allowed to play for World Series money the year before. xii

But now a crisis was emanating from the other direction. John McGraw had been brought into line (if only by the best interests of his players), but now it was Ban Johnson’s close friend and ally xiii who was threatening to scotch the Series. Had the South Siders come from two games behind to win the pennant in the final week, a terrible dilemma would have loomed: would Baseball not have a championship series for a second year in a row, after having played a grand total of one to date? Or would Baseball follow Charlie Comiskey’s “advice” and play the Series anyway by installing the second-best team, the Athletics, in the AL champion’s rightful seat?

Either way, the risk to the credibility of the new championship series concept was substantial, because whether there was no Series to be played, or else a “world’s championship series” played without the actual champion of the American League, fans might well have thrown up their hands in frustration at the ensuing chaos and abandoned interest in the concept altogether, and then who knows what might have happened when the end of the 1906 season rolled around? For while it is true that the National Commission and the two leagues had adopted a formal agreement to play a post-season championship series during the previous offseason, no provision existed within that contemplated what would happen should one of the two league pennant winners simply refuse to participate xiv . If the White Sox came from behind to take the AL pennant and Comiskey had followed through on his threat, it could well have undermined this agreement and perhaps even rendered it void, the result of a lack of public and stakeholder confidence in the agreement’s enforceability and, ultimately, viability.

As it turned out, the entire issue became academic; both the White Sox and Athletics finished their seasons with three wins, two losses and a tie, xv , xvi securing the blessings of the pennant to the Athletics after all and ensuring that, indeed, the true champions of both leagues would meet for the championship. John McGraw’s Giants took the 1905 Series from the Athletics, making his players a little happier (and a little wealthier) while sticking it to his old nemesis Ban Johnson.

Charlie Comiskey had a happy ending of his own, too, as he presided over his White Stockings’ undisputed pennant win the following year. The 1906 champion Sox headed to the Series to play (ironically) the Chicago Cubs, the juggernaut whose winning percentage is still the highest in annals of the post-1900 major leagues, xvii and against whom the “Hitless Wonders” prevailed in a stunning six-game upset.

And so the hullabaloo over “chief justice” Garry Herrmann’s premature announcement regarding travel arrangements for the 1905 World Series was lost to history, completely forgotten, and never to be told again . . . until now.

i The Athletics played three additional games by this date that had ended in ties but did not appear in the record or winning percentage. “Baseball-Reference.com 1905 Schedule and Results: 1905 Philadelphia Athletics”, accessed March 12, 2015, http://www.baseball-reference.com/teams/PHA/1905-schedule-scores.shtml

ii The White Sox played five additional games by this date that had ended in ties but did not appear in the record or winning percentage. “Baseball-Reference.com 1905 Schedule and Results: 1905 Chicago White Sox”, accessed March 12, 2015, http://www.baseball-reference.com/teams/CHW/1905-schedule-scores.shtml

iii “Baseball-Reference.com Standings for any date,” accessed March 12, 2015, http://www.baseball-reference.com/games/standings.cgi?date=1905-10-03

iv John E. Bruce, “The Chief Justice of Baseball’s Supreme Court,” Baseball Magazine, 1912 February Vol. VIII No. 4 p. 53-54.

v “Dates for Great Series,” Chicago Daily Tribune, October 4, 1905.

vi “Comiskey Denounces the Baseball Supreme Court,” The Inter Ocean, October 5, 1905.

vii Ibid.

viii “Boston Americans World’s Champions,” The Inter Ocean, October 14, 1903.

ix “Boston’s Champion Team,” The New York Times, October 14, 1903.

x “M’Graw’s Action Commented Upon,” The Times (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania), July 14, 1902.

xi Ibid.

xii “Players Will Go After the Money,” The Minneapolis Journal, September 14, 1904.

xiii "What Every Fan Should Know: Ban Johnson and the Birth of the American League." At Home Plate. Archived from the original on 2008-06-17. Accessed March 12, 2015. http://web.archive.org/web/20080617183524/http://www.athomeplate.com/alforms.shtml

xiv “RULES AND REGULATIONS GOVERNING THE CONTEST FOR THE PROFESSIONAL BASE BALL CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WORLD”, Accessed March 12, 2015, http://roadsidephotos.sabr.org/baseball/1905WSregs.htm

xv Baseball-Reference.com 1905 Schedule and Results: 1905 Chicago White Sox, accessed March 12, 2015.

xvi Baseball-Reference.com 1905 Schedule and Results: 1905 Philadelphia Athletics, accessed March 12, 2015,

xvii “List of best Major League Baseball season won-loss records,” accessed March 12, 2015, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_best_Major_League_Baseball_season_won-loss_records

THE LAST BEST DAY:

WHEN CHICAGO HAD THREE FIRST-PLACE TEAMS

Mark S. Sternman

At the close of play on July 17, 1915, the American League’s Chicago White Sox led the league by 1½ games, the Federal League’s Chicago Whales had a half-game lead, and the National League’s Chicago Cubs were tied for first. The feat of one city having three first-place teams has not since been repeated, since there have not been three major leagues since that season. (This statement, of course, assumes not counting Brooklyn as part of New York City.)

All three teams slumped after July 17. In this article we will view ten players from each team as lenses through which to view the highlights of a campaign dotted with no-hitters, [i] blockbuster trades, Black Sox foreshadowing, and a photo-finish pennant race.

Note that standings discussed in this article relate to games ahead or behind, rather than by percentage points.

CUBS CRESTING

After Hank O’Day’s Cubs finished fourth in 1914, Roger Bresnahan took over a team with two offensive mainstays. One, third baseman Heinie Zimmerman, hit .307 or higher in 1911, 1912, and 1913, and in 1914 led Chicago in batting average and slugging percentage. After the season, however, Zimmerman considered quitting, ii failed to win back fines he had paid for misconduct during 1914, iii and fantasized about playing for the Giants. iv Bresnahan “announce[d] … that Zimmerman would not be traded under any consideration” [v] then tried to swap him for New York’s Larry Doyle or Cincinnati’s Heinie Groh. vi

“ In 1912, [Zimmerman] had married seventeen-year-old Helene Chasar, but the marriage quickly dissolved and in January 1915, she had sued for alimony, alleging that Zimmerman had sent … no support.” vii The case hounded Zimmerman, perhaps explaining his subpar 1915 season.

The second potent bat, first baseman Vic Saier, led the 1914 Cubs in walks and OPS; his hitting and health drove the rise and fall of the 1915 Cubs. Unlike Zimmerman, Saier had “a quiet winter … [and] is ready … for the season to start.” viii

With Larry Cheney, who’d won 20 games each year from 1912–1914, and Hippo Vaughn, also a 20-game winner in 1914, Bresnahan had “a pitching staff … loaded with holdover contracts,” ix a key given the raids on NL and AL staffs by the Federal League. Bresnahan released George McConnell, who had twelve wins over four seasons, and kept Karl Adams, who briefly appeared with the 1914 Reds. McConnell would star for the Whales while Adams would struggle for the Cubs. [x]

Chicago moved into a first-place tie May 21 and occupied first place for all but eleven days through July 17. Statistics through that date show Saier providing slugging and George Pierce—who had notched 22 wins in the previous two seasons—offsetting Cheney’s mediocrity with good mound work. Jimmy Lavender won his debut, but hurt his ribs xi and went more than a month until his next start. Bert Humphries, hobbled in training, xii missed the season’s first seventeen games.

OBP SLG OPS

Saier .378 .548 .926

Zimmerman .320 .421 .741

Bresnahan .303 .301 .604

W-L ERA IP

Vaughn 11–8 3.51 143 2/3

Cheney 7–7 3.62 112

Zabel 5–9 2.85 110 1/3

Pierce 9–1 3.09 99

Lavender 5–5 2.61 86 1/3

Humphries 4–4 1.63 77 1/3

Adams 0–1 3.90 32 1/3

Lacking Lavender and Humphries, Bresnahan leaned on Vaughn and Cheney. Yanking George Washington “Zip” Zabel from the hill in the season’s fourth game, Bresnahan used both Vaughn and Cheney in a 7–4 loss. Heinie Zimmerman, kicked out of games more than any other NL player in 1915, “after being good for three whole days in succession, became peevish over being called out at second … and … tried to bean an umpire with a practice ball between innings.” xiii

In late April, Zimmerman began playing second base, and the Cubs commenced a season-high seven-game winning streak “in spite of the heavy handicap of a short-handed pitching staff.” xiv

Eleven days after the streak ended, Zimmerman, “threatened … with jail” xv over alimony, nearly blew a Humphries gem. Fielding a bouncer with a man on first, Zimmerman “started to throw to second, saw it was too late, then made a wild peg to first and lost both men.” xvi Humphries, however, preserved a 1–0 win over New York.

Lavender returned to the rotation May 21, downing Boston 3–2 to push the Cubs into a first-place tie for the first time since opening day. Chicago swept the series with the defending champions as Zimmerman went 9-for-14 with six doubles and a homer.

Chicago slipped to second after losing two straight to Philadelphia between June 9 and 12, but Vaughn returned the Cubs to first after consecutive starts against Boston. He lasted just one inning in a 6–4 win, but after an off-day tossed a shutout. Cheney started and lost the third Boston game, which Zimmerman exited early with a spike wound. xvii

The loss kept the Cubs in a first-place tie, but a 19-inning 4–3 win over Brooklyn on June 17 gave Chicago sole possession of first, which it held through July 12. Zimmerman missed this game and the next three, the first four of a six-game winning streak jumpstarted by the extraordinarily long contest during which “Humphries’ hand was split” xviii in the first inning. Humphries missed ten days.

Saier’s homer in the bottom of the fifteenth prolonged the June 17 contest; Chicago won on an error, rewarding Zabel for an amazing 18 1/3 innings in relief.

Saier’s power (a single, triple, and two homers) spurred the Cubs to a three-game sweep of Brooklyn. Baseball Magazine raved that Saier’s “tremendous drives seem to come just when they win or tie.” xix

Zimmerman dramatically returned on June 24, after Chicago blew a 10–9 ninth-inning lead as St. Louis scored four. With one out in the home ninth, one in, and two on, he pinch-doubled, tying the game. A groundout advanced Zimmerman after which he swiped home “on one leg with the winning tally and made the final count 14 to 13.” xx

After beating the Cardinals again, the Cubs had a season-high 4½-game lead, but, in the first of three bad streaks in little more than one month, Chicago scored just six runs in six games and lost four of them.

On June 28, after lollygagging, Zimmerman “was ordered out of the game and fined $100.” xxi Replacement Polly McLarry made a key bottom-of-the-ninth fumble in the loss. The next day, Zimmerman filed for divorce after a failed reconciliation. xxii The day after that, he was caught looking and ejected for throwing “his bat to the bench … there was nothing short of murder in the second degree in Zim’s eyes and attitude as he started after the umpire.” xxiii McLarry entered again and made another error, this one figuring in a 1–0 defeat.

On July 2, “the Great Zim … wrecked a splendid stop by a wild throw to first, giving the visitors a run in the fourth inning.” xxiv Tied 1–1 in the ninth, the game went Chicago’s way on Saier’s RBI single.

Grantland Rice noted similarities among, Saier’s, Ty Cobb’s, and Sam Crawford’s statistics although “no one had figured the quiet, retiring worker on the Cubs even close to their class.” xxv Of his ex-teammate, Johnny Evers added, “When you … take fielding and all around work … there is no player … who is a better man than Saier.” xxvi

Facing an eighteen-game road trip that began with a win at Pittsburgh, the first-place Cubs acquired New York’s Red Murray, who “favored … the Cubs because he suspects they are going to win the pennant this year and get a lot of bonus money.” xxvii

The Cubs fell into a bad streak immediately, however, blowing a 7–1 lead at Brooklyn and falling 8–7 in ten. The Cubs scored twice in the first. “They might have had more, but Heinie Zim forgot how many were out and jogged into a putout…. When Saier fanned, with the call three and two, Zim started for second, but although he seemed to have the base stolen, he stopped when he saw Saier had missed … and … was run down.” xxviii

Brooklyn swept four from Chicago, and New York then took two from the Cubs. In the July 12 Brooklyn game, Pierce “strained his side reaching for a high bounder” xxix and would sit for eight days. Pierce, 9–1 at that time, was just 2–8 in his next ten decisions.

On July 13, Humphries blew a 3–0 lead against the Giants, yielding a pair of runs in the eighth and ninth in another tough New York City loss.

Chicago recovered to win three of five, capped by Cheney besting Philadelphia’s Pete Alexander 4–0 on July 17, the last day the Cubs shared first place.

SOX SURGING

At 70–84, the 1914 White Sox were Chicago’s only major league team with a losing record. The Sox finished 30 games behind Philadelphia, who would lose to Boston in the World Series; this was one impetus for Connie Mack to dismantle his last great Deadball team. Mack’s moves in turn effected a transformation of the White Sox.

Mack considered dealing 1914 AL Chalmers (MVP) Award winner Eddie Collins to New York, but Chicago owner Charlie Comiskey secured Collins, making “1915 … the dawn of a new era for the White Sox,” xxx then announced an unknown minor-league skipper, Clarence “Pants” Rowland, as Chicago manager.

Collins moved one reporter to verse:

He’s a daisy, he’s a dandy,

He’s a wonder at the game,

He’s a corking second-baseman;

Every rooter knows his name.

He’s a peach at stopping grounders

As they skim across the dirt;

He’s chockfull of pop and ginger,

And he plays for all he’s worth.

He is just as good as Evers

When it comes to brain and wits,

And he is just as fast as Milan

At beating infield hits.

They may talk about Joe Jackson,

Tyrus Cobb and all the rest,

But when it comes to picking stars,

We’d pick Collins with the best.

Last year he won the Chalmers car,

He well deserved the same,

So, here’s hats off to Eddie Collins;

He’s a credit to the game. xxxi

Other newcomers would soon join Collins, with “the greatest interest … in ‘Happy’ Felch (sic), the stalwart young outfielder from Milwaukee, who is expected to make good with the south siders.” xxxii

Only a year older than Felsch, Buck Weaver, at 24, had completed three seasons as the Sox shortstop and tied for seventh in the 1914 Chalmers balloting. Interestingly, in an early association with gambling, Weaver “suddenly decided to become a business man. Before the impulse left him he purchased a billiard hall and barber shop on the south side.” xxxiii

Ex-Yankees manager Frank Chance liked how the Sox looked, saying, “Rowland has at his disposal a wonderful pitching staff, and the keystone defense—Eddie Collins and Buck Weaver … should form an ironclad infield.” xxxiv

In 1914, that wonderful pitching staff included Joe Benz, Eddie Cicotte, Jim Scott, and Reb Russell, with rookie Red Faber relieving more than starting. Rowland, who had first recommended Faber to Chicago, made him a starter. Less successfully, Rowland shifted Lena Blackburne from second base to third due to the arrival of Eddie Collins—the second Collins on the team along with outfielder Shano Collins.

Through July 17, Eddie Collins led the attack. Faber, already exceeding his innings thrown in 1914, and Scott each had ten more wins than losses.

OBP SLG OPS

ECollins .470 .466 .936

Weaver .339 .394 .733

SCollins .322 .401 .723

Felsch .340 .381 .721

Blackburne .346 .275 .621

W-L ERA IP

Faber 16–6 2.26 183

Scott 13–4 1.99 154

Cicotte 7–7 2.85 123

Russell 7–6 2.38 113 1/3

Benz 7–4 2.35 115

Faber won the first two games of 1915, including a 16–0 rout of the Browns in which he himself had four hits and yielded just seven. St. Louis dealt with Collins the way many teams would in 1915, passing him four times. Collins eventually topped the AL with 119 walks, by far his career high.

Chicago lost six in a row after their first two victories, with a two-out, three-run homer by Hank Severeid transforming a seemingly sure Sox win into a 4–3 loss that dethroned Chicago from first. The Sox then lost four straight at Detroit.

Red Faber was 24-14 for the 1915 Sox and led the AL with 50 appearances. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

When the team returned home, it got hot again. Starting with a five run rally when down 4–0 against St. Louis in the bottom of the ninth, Chicago won nine of its first ten home games. Shano Collins tied the game with a two-out triple in the ninth, scoring Eddie Collins, and Shano scored the winner on a passed ball. Faber won with six relief innings and would capture his next seven decisions.

Faber reportedly threw just 67 pitches in nine innings (50 strikes and 17 balls), retiring the side on one pitch per batter in both the third and fifth, in a 4–1 win over Washington May 12. xxxv

The Sox moved into a virtual tie for first after beating Boston 3–2 in 17 innings on May 21 behind Faber’s ten winning frames in relief. “From the tenth to the seventeenth he allowed only two hits and walked nobody.” xxxvi Backup catcher Tom Daly’s pinch-single secured the win.

Chicago swept the Boston series. Eddie Collins created an insurance run in the finale with his “nerve and footwork in going from first to third on [first baseman Jack] Fournier’s sacrifice bunt” xxxvii in the seventh in a 4–2 win.

The Sox then swept three from New York to extend its winning streak to nine. Shano Collins saved the second Yankee contest, throwing out speedster Fritz Maisel trying to score from second on a single with two outs in the ninth to preserve a 7–6 lead.

On May 30, Cleveland ended Chicago’s streak, and on June 7 someone—Boston—finally beat Faber. “Faber showed speed, command and a neat moist ball” xxxviii in yielding four hits, two walks, and one earned run but lost 3–0 as Chicago fell from first for the only time between May 21 and July 18.

Chicago took the finale in Boston and the first two in New York. Faber started against the Yanks and had led 8–1 lead in the bottom of the fourth. But Russell, in relief, lost the game, which ended with Daly flying into a double play with the tying run gunned down at home, reversing the ending of the game when Shano Collins had thrown out Fritz Maisel.

Washington took two of three from Chicago, but the streaky Sox took nine in a row and 14 of 15. After a three-game sweep in Philadelphia, Sporting Life predicted “a picnic for the White Sox if they do not become overconfident or get badly crippled.” xxxix

Chicago kept rolling during a week in Cleveland with six straight wins, the last of which took 19 innings. Faber, in the midst of a strange batting streak of seven walks in eight plate appearances, xl survived five Chicago errors in the third of these games, a complete-game triumph over at Cleveland. “Buck Weaver was chief messer of the afternoon, being charged with three mistakes. He dropped a ridiculously easy pop fly, heaved one to the grand stand back of first base, and kicked one all over the infield, which was considerable messing.” xli

Weaver redeemed himself in the 19 th “when, with two men out, [he] lined a single to left field, his fifth blow of the game, and legged it home a moment later when Eddie Collins crashed a two bagger far down the left foul line.” xlii On one day of rest, Faber won, hurling 11 scoreless innings, yielding three hits, and fanning nine.

After losing the Cleveland finale, Chicago took five from St. Louis and Detroit, giving the Sox a season-high six-game cushion in first place before losing five to the same two teams. Faber dropped a pair of games against the Tigers, the second of which occurred when he again appeared with just one day of rest. Down 7–1 after six on July 4, the Sox plated one in the seventh and five in the eighth, but Faber walked in the winning run in the bottom of the tenth for a disappointing 8–7 defeat.

In his 670-game career, Faber stole just seven bases, but swiped second, third, and home in one sequence against Philadelphia on July 14. Chicago led, and rain threatened to end the game before it had become official. Joe Bush “soaked him in the slats with a pitched ball. Red kept right on running after reaching first base, but the Athletics refused to put him out. When Faber was on the way to third Bush tossed the ball back to [catcher Wally] Schang and Schang tossed it back, although the runner was within easy reach of him.” xliii The weather held, however, and Faber won a complete game.

Boston followed Philadelphia to Chicago, and after an opening doubleheader split on July 17, the White Sox had a 1½-game lead and seemed well-positioned to snare the 1915 pennant.

WHALES WINNING

The Chi-Feds had the best 1914 record among the local clubs at 87–67, finishing 1½ out of first. Unlike its older neighbors, the Federals kept their manager, Joe Tinker, for 1915. Tinker spent the offseason recruiting players.

Chicago’s powerful catcher, Art Wilson, had the FL’s sixth-highest OPS in 1914, but his two backups hit .188 with no homers, figures that William Fischer of Brooklyn, who jumped to the FL for 1915, would easily exceed.

Eddie Plank rejected Chicago, but days later, a headline blared, “Chicago Feds Sign Walter Johnson for Two Years.” xliv The FL St. Louis Terriers had offered Johnson a three-year contract, but Chicago owner Charlie Weeghman suggested the same money for fewer years. Plank “was then awarded to the St. Louis Club for its part in signing Johnson.” xlv

Johnson, of course, never pitched for Chicago, instead returning to Washington, where he would torment the White Sox, but Plank stayed and went 21–11 with a 2.08 ERA. Instead of Johnson, the newly named Whales, a sublime joy for jokey sportswriters, xlvi inked Mordecai Brown. “Tinker doesn’t expect Brown to work as often as he did … but thinks he will turn out just as strong hurling … if not called upon more than … every five or six days.” xlvii

Outfielder Les Mann, whose ninth-inning single beat Plank in Game 2 of the 1914 World Series, also joined Chicago. “Tinker wanted [Mann] particularly because he is a right handed hitter, and the Tinx of last year were overset with left handed batters,” xlviii including first baseman Fred Beck, and outfielders Max Flack, Al Wickland, and Dutch Zwilling. Shortstop Jimmy Smith switch-hit.

Through July 17, the catchers and outfielders led the attack in support of three workhorse pitchers, paced by George McConnell, who could not make the Cubs. Claude Hendrix, who went 29–10 with a 1.69 ERA over 362 innings in 1914, “has been slow in rounding to. He was late in reporting” xlix and pitched inconsistently in 1915.

OBP SLG OPS

Fischer .386 .478 .864

Wilson .409 .445 .854

Zwilling .371 .453 .825

Flack .383 .437 .820

Mann .346 .429 .774

Beck .291 .321 .612

Smith .231 .332 .562

W-L ERA IP

McConnell 15–6 1.94 167 1/3

Hendrix 9–10 2.97 163 2/3

Brown 10–4 1.66 135 1/3

Hendrix bested Plank in the season opener 3–1 as Chicago rallied with three in the eighth. Mann reprised his heroics from Game Two of the 1914 World Series with another late-inning RBI single off Plank, and Wilson had the go-ahead hit.

After rain postponed the rest of the St. Louis series, McConnell, “mixing a good spitball with a terrific fast ball,” [l] made his FL debut in relief against Pittsburgh. Down 3–0 in the home sixth, Chicago again rallied, giving McConnell his first win.

Although he yielded but three hits and one earned run in eight innings, Brown lost his debut on April 15, dropping a 3–1 decision to Pittsburgh. Teenage shortstop Jimmy Smith’s two errors gave him four in three games.

Smith also sparked the Whales to two wins, however. On April 16, he worked a ninth-inning walk and scored the winning run. The following day, with Chicago losing 1–0, Smith homered in the sixth and singled in the eighth as Hendrix improved to 2–0. Unfortunately, Kansas City’s Grover Gilmore “ran his spike into Smith’s hand,” li slowing the rookie down in an April 24 game that rain kept from becoming official.

Cubs legend Mordecai "Three Finger" Brown was 17-8 for the 1915 Whales at age 38. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

Brown’s first win sparked a five-game streak that left Chicago, on May 3, two games up in the race. This would be the team’s largest lead of 1915.

Six straight losses, five by one run and one by two, sank the Whales to fourth. Without Smith, Tinker played shortstop on occasion and sometimes played third with Rollie Zeider at short. On May 6, he went 3-for-4 with a double and triple, the last extra-base hits and multi-hit game of his career. Taking pregame infield the following day, Tinker “suffered a rupture in his right side” lii and thereafter mostly managed.

Smith returned May 10, just prior to a Pittsburgh trip where Hendrix, originally a Pirate, no-hit the Rebels. “James Savage was the last man up, and he drove the long foul to Leslie Mann, who made a great running catch … while many … rushed the field and congratulated the big Whale spitball pitcher for his accomplishment.” liii

Chicago won another thriller back home, rallying twice against Baltimore’s Chief Bender. Down 5–2 with two outs in the eighth, the Whales got three. In the tenth, McConnell yielded a run, but Chicago once again scored multiple times with two down, getting a two-run pinch-single to win. Smith scored in both rallies, but made his eighth error in fifteen games.

Through the first six weeks of the season, Brown had pitched sparingly. He went nine innings May 22, but then the Whales split a doubleheader and trailed Buffalo 3–2. Buffalo hurler Gene Krapp, who lived down to his name by passing eleven, walked a man with the bases full to force home Flack with the tying tally in the ninth. Flack’s hit in the 14 th won the game, making Brown, who yielded three hits in seven and a third relief innings, the winner on one day of rest.

First baseman Beck was hurt in Buffalo and missed six games. Bill Jackson replaced him and drew a bases-loaded walk to force in the winning run in Brown’s next appearance, a complete-game, eleven-inning 2-1 effort in the second half of a May 31 doubleheader against Kansas City. This win brought Chicago into a first-place tie, but the club then dropped six straight to fall to fifth. Led by McConnell (who won nine straight from June 6 through July 8), the Whales then captured 14 of 21 road contests, including the final six.

Brown nearly matched Hendrix on June 18, pitching “a near no hit no run game against the Buffalo Feds. One lone blow was all that separated Brownie from the much coveted record. Percy Dalton was the offender, getting the safe swat beyond question in the eighth inning, and that after Brown had put two strikes over him.” liv

On June 19, Chicago seemingly beat Baltimore 8–1. With the bases loaded and one out in the first inning, Smith broke for home after a wild third strike, but the throw beat him, so he left the field thinking the Terrapins had retired him. The other runners advanced, however, and a dispute ensued. “While this was going on Smith ran out from the bench and touched the plate. Umpire Johnstone called him safe and the run counted. He contended that a play had to be made on Smith, as it was not a force out at the plate. [Baltimore] contended Smith was automatically out for running to the bench.” lv

The FL upheld the protest, ordering a replay, although more than one month later the official standings still, erroneously, included the game. lvi Hendrix lost credit for a complete-game win as well as two hits, including a homer, and the Whales lost a win.

Brown threw a second shutout 11 days after his one-hitter, giving up four Newark hits. Fischer drove in the only run following Flack’s walk and attempted steal of second, which resulted in a fielding error. “Only the great speed of Flack enabled him to score on a close play at the plate.” lvii

Unlike Brown, McConnell struggled at Newark, and Chicago trailed 6–1 late before breaking through in the ninth. “The sudden rally of the Whales was a thriller and all the serious damage was done after two men were out in the ninth round.” lviii Chicago had good-hitting pitchers, which helped on this day. McConnell tripled, one of 25 extra-base hits from Brown, Hendrix, and McConnell in 1915. Fischer later tripled and scored the tying run. In the bottom of the eleventh, McConnell escaped a bases-loaded, no-out jam, and Beck won the game with an RBI single in the twelfth.

The Whales completed the sweep with another extra-inning win. Chicago busted a scoreless tie with three in the top of the twelfth. Flack legged out a double and scored following a sacrifice and Jackson’s bunt single. Although he had started two days earlier, “Brown had been warming up for several innings and was ready to be called upon.” lix Allowing two inherited runners to score by hitting consecutive batters, Brown saved the win and lowered his ERA to a season-best 1.41.

The Whales went back on the road after a home week. A Hendrix-Plank rematch in St. Louis resulted in 13 scoreless frames. Plank yielded one hit in that span, a Hendrix double. In the fourteenth, Jackson walked, took second on a single by Mann—still Plank’s nemesis—and scored when an outfielder played Hendrix’s fly into another double. Mann also tallied, and Hendrix fanned ten in his 2–0 shutout.

His winning streak over after losing in relief, McConnell won at St. Louis on July 14, edging the Whales back into a first-place tie for the first time since May 31. Chicago completed the St. Louis sweep, split a Brooklyn doubleheader, and held sole possession of first on July 17, the last time all three Chicago teams occupied first place. By the end of the 1915 season, fans of two of the clubs would find it hard to believe that such success had actually transpired.

CUBS COLLAPSING

After July 17, the Cubs fell apart. The offense scored nearly one fewer run per game, and Adams pitched horribly. Bolded OPS and ERA figures indicate performance declines compared to earlier data.

W-L RS/G RA/G

Through 7/17 43–36 4.12 3.94

After 7/17 30–44 3.15 4.01

OBP SLG OPS

Saier .315 .299 . 614

Zimmerman .277 .328 . 605

Bresnahan .280 .169 . 449

W-L ERA IP

Lavender 5–11 2.57 133

Vaughn 9–4 2.14 126

Humphries 4–9 2.88 93 2/3

Pierce 4–8 3.61 77 1/3

Adams 1–8 5.06 74 2/3

Zabel 2–1 3.98 52

Cheney 1–2 3.26 19 1/3

Beginning July 19, Chicago suffered its third and worst bad streak with three 1–0 losses, four other one-run losses, and a two-run loss. The July 20 game against Philadelphia encapsulates the Cubs’ sudden collapse.

Zimmerman did not run out a grounder, so Bresnahan fined him $25 after the sixth inning. Next, Saier scored on a double steal but “hooked his foot on the plate and sprained a tendon in his leg so badly that he had to be carried off … for repairs.” lx Finally, after Chicago had taken a 5–2 lead into the bottom of the eighth, Cheney relieved, retired two, but gave up two hits, erred, and threw consecutive wild pitches to help Philadelphia score six and eventually win 8–6. The performance likely expedited Cheney’s exit from Chicago and, worse, Saier never regained his fantastic form.

Bresnahan moved regular catcher Jimmy Archer to first and took over the catching duties until breaking his toe July 23. He would never again have an extra-base hit in the majors. His spirits broke, too: “Bresnahan has lost faith in a lot of his players … He made the statement … that he had only three or four men … who were really trying.” lxi John McGraw agreed with his former backstop, blasting the Cubs for “not hustling as hard as they did.” lxii

On the marathon road trip, “Eighteen games were played, and the Cubs won only four of them. Bad luck, bad playing and injuries put the Cubs out of first place…” lxiii

Saier returned for the first half of a July 30 doubleheader, the last game of the losing streak, but “hurt his lame knee in the second inning … and had to retire.” lxiv Missing three more games, he would—oddly—pinch-run to score the winning tally on a Murray hit on August 5, the middle match of a five-game winning streak that got Chicago within 1½ games of first.

The Cubs got no closer. Brooklyn beat Chicago four straight, with the nadir “the most one-sided and farcical baseball exhibition staged this season on the West Side grounds,” lxv a 13–0 rout during which George Cutshaw went 6-for-6.

Jim "Hippo" Vaughn, the Cubs' big winner in 1915. (Bain Collection, Library of Congress)

Five days later, the Cubs still had some fight in them. Against St. Louis, “an error by Zimmerman let in two runs. After the players returned to the bench, several got after Heinie for loafing after fumbling the ball. Had he hustled after fumbling he might have cut off one of the runs.” lxvi Zimmerman tried to punch Pierce, but hit a better pitcher, Vaughn, in the mouth instead, splitting the peacemaker’s lip.

Instead of fighting each other, Chicago killed itself with kindness after battling back from a 4–0 hole to tie Boston on August 26. Chicago should have surged ahead, but Archer fell rounding third. A teammate, coaching, “placed his hands kindly on [Archer] … The minute he held his hands on the crippled base runner the alert Evers ran crying to Umpire O’Day, calling his attention to the illegal act, and Hank promptly called Archer out,” lxvii and the game ended in a tie.

Languishing in fourth in late August, Chicago traded Cheney, who had “trouble with his arm and has been pounded harder than ever before,” lxviii to Brooklyn for infielder Joe Schultz Sr., who played just seven games for the Cubs. Lavender responded two days later by no-hitting New York. “His mastery of the situation was supreme. The Giants were as helpless as infants before his delivery. Just how helpless is shown by the fact that only twice … was the ball driven beyond the infield.” lxix

Lavender, however, faltered in relief two appearances after this no-hitter as the Cubs fell to fifth after an excruciating doubleheader loss to the Cardinals. In Game One, Lavender entered in the twelfth and hit a batter with the bases loaded, giving Chicago the loss; the bags had been filled by a hit, a fielder’s choice, and a walk. The Cardinals scored two runs batting out of order, but Bresnahan failed to protest in time, so the tallies counted.

Although not the losing pitcher against St. Louis, Lavender would drop six straight, the last of which dropped the Cubs to last place, albeit only for a day. By closing with seven wins in nine games, Chicago finished fourth, disappointing given the season’s early promise but devastating due to the hasty giveaway of Cheney, the crippled condition of Saier, and the malignant presence of Zimmerman.

SOX SINKING

After July 17, the White Sox scored nearly a run fewer per game. In addition, Faber slumped, perhaps due to his heavy workload. Bolded OPS and ERA figures show performance declines compared to earlier data.

W-L RS/G RA/G

Through 7/17 53–30 5.01 3.30

After 7/17 40–31 4.17 3.27

OBP SLG OPS

ECollins .451 .399 .850

Felsch .325 .335 .660

SCollins .271 .328 .599

Weaver .287 .309 .595

Blackburne .264 .207 .471

W-L ERA IP

Scott 11–7 2.09 142 1/3

Benz 8–7 1.90 123 1/3

Faber 8–8 3.00 117

Russell 4–4 2.80 115 2/3

Cicotte 6–5 3.23 100 1/3

After splitting a doubleheader with Boston on the 17 th, the White Sox dropped three straight then won five of six to pull into a virtual tie for first. Although sued for breach of promise by a “very pretty” woman on July 20, lxx Jim Scott won two (one by a 1–0 shutout in which he had an RBI single) and saved a third game from July 22 through July 30.

On August 4, the Sox, in the midst of scoring thirteen runs in six straight losses, fell to third for the first time since May 18, where they would remain.

Blackburne, subpar at third base, threw away the first loss. With two on and none out in the ninth, New York bunted, but “‘Lena’ scooped up the ball and heaved it high over Fournier’s head,” lxxi giving Benz the first in a series of tough losses over the season’s last months.

The August 2 game ended even more excruciatingly. Faber took a 2–0 lead over the Yankees into the bottom of the ninth. With one out and runners on the corners, Faber induced a double-play ball to Eddie Collins, who “handled the ball as if it was an anarchist’s bomb. He picked it up and dropped it and then repeated the operation.” lxxii The error cut the lead to 2–1; an out and a single tied the game, ending Faber’s day. Scott relieved, issued a walk, and threw a wild pitch to send the Sox to a 3–2 loss.

Chicago left New York, lost two at Washington, and seemed doomed to a fifth straight defeat, trailing Walter Johnson 2–0. But the Sox bats improbably awoke with a six-run eighth-inning rally sparked by Johnson’s throwing error on Shano Collins’ bunt.

With a four-run lead, Mellie Wolfgang relieved for Chicago then gave way to Faber. With two outs in the last of the eighth and the lead trimmed to 6–5, Faber had two strikes on Johnson with runners on second and third. The lead runner broke for home, “but Johnson poked a low fly to short left field. Weaver was running in … possibly with the idea of covering the plate on the steal home.” lxxiii Johnson’s flare drove in two runs; Weaver’s vacating his position had transformed a heartening rally against the game’s greatest pitcher. Johnson would come around to score in the White Sox’s crushing 8–6 loss.

Weaver made the front page of the paper a few days later. In an article sub-headed “White Sox Ball Player Has More Trouble on His Hands; Now Must Explain Dice Gambling,” a brief revealed, “Buck’s poolroom … was going at a little too merry clip at 5 o’clock yesterday morning, so the police swooped down upon it like a bunch of Red Sox with war bludgeons.” lxxiv

Chicago got better news in late August with the Sox’ blockbuster acquisition of Joe Jackson, who had flirted with the Whales. lxxv The Sox needed reinforcements; beginning with Jackson’s arrival, Chicago played 89 innings in six days, with two doubleheaders (the first game of the first DH which Eddie Collins won with an eleventh-inning single) and four straight extra-inning games that Chicago would split. On his third day in Chicago colors, Jackson tripled home Eddie Collins to lift the Sox to an 11-inning win over the Yankees.

Washington was the opposition for the rest of the bonus baseball. On August 24, trailing 5–4 in the bottom of the eleventh with two outs and the bases loaded, the Sox won on Murphy’s walk and Shano Collins’ single before succumbing to Johnson’s arm and bat in the next two games. First, he scored the winning run and got the win in a 7–4 14-inning defeat of Chicago; he then drove in a run and saved a 2–1 13-inning win.

In 21 plate appearances in 1915, Johnson hit .421/.476/.579 against Chicago. On the hill, he posted a 4–1 record with two saves.

Hitting pitchers plagued the Sox into September. With a 1–0 lead at Fenway Park in the bottom of the seventh inning on September 14, Benz faced Boston pitcher Babe Ruth, who “smashed the ball against the left-field fence, sending home the winning run.” lxxvi

Chicago won its last eleven games but finished a distant third. This streak made Chicago’s season seem more impressive retrospectively, but the run differentials of the league’s top three teams show that the White Sox should have done far better.

W L GB RS RA Margin

Boston 101 50 --- 668 499 +169

Detroit 100 54 2½ 778 597 +181

Chicago 93 61 9½ 717 509 +208

“ Comiskey has been prodigal in his expenditures for new talent, and has not obtained a great deal in return…. Eddie Collins was worth every cent … but the keystone monarch alone could not make a winning team out of the collection of ivory that surrounded him.” lxxvii The 1915 additions—Rowland managing, Faber starting, and Collins, Felsch, and Jackson playing—paid off two years later with the 1917 champions. The gambling associations of Weaver hinted, however, that the game’s greatest scandal would soon stagger the Sox.

WHALES WIN!

The Whales declined at bat and on the mound after July 17, but the resilient club nevertheless eked out just enough clutch wins. Bolded OPS and ERA figures show performance declines compared to earlier data.

W-L RS/G RA/G

Through 7/17 47–33 4.54 3.34

After 7/17 39–33 3.71 3.61

OBP SLG OPS

Wilson .493 .429 .921

Mann .368 .446 .813

Fischer .382 .422 .804

Zwilling .362 .427 .790

Flack .346 .409 .755

Smith .287 .279 .576

Beck .237 .268 .504

W-L ERA IP

McConnell 9–4 2.52 135 2/3

Hendrix 7–5 3.05 121

Brown 8–4 2.67 101

Starting with the second game of the July 17 doubleheader, Chicago dropped five of six. On July 22, “King Mordecai of the House of Brown brought the Whales up from the sea of despair … by pitching almost perfect baseball against the scrappy Terrapins of Baltimore. Brownie subdued the turbulent Terps with three small hits, and his 4 to 1 victory was clearly earned.” lxxviii Following this game, Brown would not start for an entire month due to kidney inflammation. lxxix

With Brown out, Chicago dropped four straight home games to Newark, including a 3–2 16-inning August 2 loss, the winning run scoring when “Smith cracked at the critical moment,” lxxx making his 40 th error.

Smith kicked two more in the next game, but McConnell threw a critical complete game to beat Brooklyn 3–1. “McConnell varied the mud ball with an ordinary spitter he had, the Brookfeds missing ‘em by six inches, but he fanned only one batter. Properly delivered, the mud ball breaks like an illegal emery ball. It shoots around the plate like a bilious gent wending his way homeward at 3 a.m.” lxxxi

Chicago made the short trip from Brooklyn to Newark, and Mann scored the winning run in the ninth inning of the third game against the Peppers on August 12 following a triple lxxxii and a pinch-squeeze bunt by backup outfielder Charlie Hanford, who had been “ejected” two innings earlier “because Umpire McCormick’s sensitive ear was offended … [in Federal League rules] A player ousted merely from the bench, who has not been in the game, may return any time his manager desires, so Tinker was able to recall … Hanford … from exile.” lxxxiii

Hendrix homered and won the opener of an August 14 doubleheader split with Baltimore. One of these games represented the replay of the June 19 protest.

Chicago dropped the last Baltimore game and then four to Buffalo, dropping from first to fourth in three days. On August 22, Brown again righted the Whales’ ship, returning from illness on a day in his honor for “one of the greatest games of his long career. Against his magnificent labor the wrecking Buffeds were like children, and Tinker’s Whales sauntered to a 4 to 0 shutout victory.” lxxxiv

Brown dropped three in a row after his comeback and “showed weakness as a result of his recent sickness. His fast ball was lacking in its usual speed.” lxxxv

Hendrix also struggled in August, losing the day before Brown’s beauty and twice more before the month’s end. Smith cost him a game in Pittsburgh. With the Whales up 2–0 and a man on first in the bottom of the eighth, Steve Yerkes “rolled an easy one to Smith, who had a perfect double play set before him, but fumbled, and both runners were safe.” lxxxvi Smith’s 47 th and final error for Chicago set up the tying runs, and a sacrifice fly in the bottom of the ninth brought home the winner.

Tinker hurriedly swapped Smith for Baltimore’s Mickey Doolin, but at first, the Whales played worse following the trade. Given a 6–1 lead in a game Chicago would lose 10–9 against Kansas City, Hendrix “following his usual custom, was knocked off the hill in less than six innings.” lxxxvii The Whales slipped a season-high 5½ games behind with less than a month to play.

Another no-hitter turned around Chicago’s season, albeit a no-hit defeat in the first game of a September 7 doubleheader to Dave Davenport of St. Louis. Perhaps embarrassed, Chicago would go 17-4-1 over the season’s final 22 games. Three of the four losses came by one run.

Hendrix started the turnaround with the second-game win over St. Louis. “Previously he had taken part in six games without registering a victory. He worked … with severe pains in his back and limped off after each inning. However he pitched a masterly” lxxxviii 3–2 Whales win.

Brown pitched a complete-game win over Baltimore in the first of a four-game series. On September 12, in Game One of a doubleheader, McConnell earned his 22 nd victory in a wild, 5–4 15-inning affair. The win returned Chicago to second place. Trailing 3–2 in the tenth, Mann doubled and Doolin singled to re-tie the game. Then, down 4–3 in the 15 th, Tinker pinch-hit Hendrix for his third-place hitter, Zwilling, the team leader in several offensive categories. Hendrix singled, advanced on a wild pitch, and scored on an error. The winning run scored on a single by Joe Weiss, who had joined the team after winning an amateur newspaper talent contest! lxxxix In Game Two, Hendrix pitched a darkness-shortened shutout to complete his virtuoso day.

In the Baltimore finale after an off day, Brown, on two days of rest, yielded seven runs in seven innings. Hendrix rescued Chicago again, however, saving the 8–7 win with two shutout frames.

On September 19, the Whales met Buffalo in a twin bill. Brown fired a complete-game 3–1 win in the opener; Weiss started a triple play on a line drive to first. xc McConnell pitched a four-hit shutout for his 23 rd win in Game Two, in which Weiss had another game-winning hit.

Weiss tallied three more hits September 22 as Chicago earned a critical 4–4 tie against Newark. Trailing 3–0 early, and 4–3 in the bottom of the eleventh, Fischer and Beck delivered pinch-singles that enabled the Whales to draw even in a game that would last 15 innings.

In third place, 1½ behind, Chicago closed the season with home-and-home doubleheaders against Pittsburgh. On October 2, Chicago swept the first twin bill and moved back into first for the first time since August 18.

Brown was the hit of the first game. He went 4-for-4 at the plate, staking the Whales to an 8–1 lead and cruised to a complete game 8–5 win despite yielding 16 hits. In the nightcap, Chicago blew a 3–0 lead in the ninth but escaped with a 6–3 win in 11, the decisive run scoring on Mann’s double and Doolin’s single.

The greatest—and last—day in the Whales’ brief history took place October 3, 1915. In the first of yet another doubleheader, McConnell could not hold a 4–1 lead in the ninth, and Pittsburgh delivered a disheartening 5–4 defeat in 11 innings.

Entering the bottom of the sixth of the last game, neither team had scored. The fans on hand were apoplectic. Doolin singled and advanced to third with two out. Flack “caught one on the nose and drove a terrific drive to left center. [Pittsburgh player-manager Rebel] Oakes … dashed madly after the ball and the Rebel did manage to get his hands on it, but the sphere hopped out into the crowd for two bases, driving in Doolin with the one run necessary.” xci Zwilling and Wilson followed with RBI hits, making the final 3–0 Chicago in a game called after six and a half because of darkness.

By percentage points, the Whales had won Chicago’s only 1915 pennant. By capturing the second and last banner in the brief history of the Federal League, the legacy of the Whales flickers a century later while the White Sox and the Cubs continue to play.

i Chicago also had Negro League teams. “Dizzy Dismukes of the Indianapolis ABCs no-hit the Chicago Giants on May 9, while Dick Whitworth of the Chicago American Giants also no-hit the Chicago Giants on September 19.” www.baseball-reference.com/bullpen/1915_in_the_Negro_Leagues (accessed January 3, 2015).

ii “The Chicago Cubs,” The Sporting Life, October 31, 1914: 7.

iii “National League Notes,” The Sporting Life, November 7, 1914: 8.

iv “Nativity against Him,” The Sporting Life, November 14, 1914: 7.

v “National League Notes,” The Sporting Life, November 28, 1914: 4.

vi I.E. Sanborn, “Chatter about Cubs,” The Sporting Life, December 19, 1914: 3.

vii Sean Deveney, Before Wrigley Became Wrigley (New York: Sports Publishing, 2014), 208.

viii James Crusinberry, “Eleven Cubs Leave here for Tampa Training Camp,” Chicago Daily Tribune, February 27, 1915: 9.

ix I.E. Sanborn, “Cubs to Battle Cubans Again at Tampa Today,” Chicago Daily Tribune, March 15, 1915: 13.

x “Adams would have had the kind of APBA card that you’d have set fire to if he was on your team. He went 1-9 with a pretty decent team, had an ERA 70 percent over the league norm, and as a hitter went oh-for-thirty.” Bill James, The Baseball Book 1990 (New York: Villard Books, 1990), 183.

xi I.E. Sanborn, “Rain Disappoints 49 Bugs Who Go to Cub Park,” Chicago Daily Tribune, April 22, 1915: 10.

xii I.E. Sanborn, “The Chicago Cubs,” The Sporting Life, April 10, 1915: 5.

xiii I.E. Sanborn, “Rally in Ninth Nips Cubs, 7-4, in Real Farce,” Chicago Daily Tribune, April 18, 1915: B1.

xiv I.E. Sanborn, “Chicago Chat,” The Sporting Life, May 15, 1915: 6.

xv I.E. Sanborn, “The Chicago Cubs,” The Sporting Life, May 22, 1915: 6.

xvi I.E. Sanborn, “Rogers Win, 1-0; Bert Humphries Holds New York,” Chicago Daily Tribune, May 19, 1915: 13.

xvii “Echoes of the Game,” Boston Daily Globe, June 17, 1915: 7.

xviii “Rice,” “Ed Pfeffer Pitches Nineteen-Inning Game,” The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, June 18, 1915: 2.

xix Wm. A. Phelon, “The Season’s Game,” Baseball Magazine, August 1915: 19.

xx I.E. Sanborn, “Zim Steals Home in the Ninth, Winning Wild Battle, 14-13,” Chicago Daily Tribune, June 25, 1915: 13.

xxi I.E. Sanborn, “Zabel Hurls Three Hit Game, but Seven Errors Beat Cubs,” Chicago Daily Tribune, June 29, 1915: 11.

xxii “H. Zimmerman Wants Divorce,” Chicago Daily Tribune, June 30, 1915: 9.

xxiii I.E. Sanborn, “Lavender Loses Two Hit Game, but Cheney Blanks Redlegs,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 1, 1915: 13.

xxiv I.E. Sanborn, “Saier’s Drive Gives Rogers 2 to 1 Victory,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 3, 1915: 11.

xxv Grantland Rice, “Giving a Modest Star His Due,” The Sporting Life, July 31, 1915.

xxvi Ward Mason, “Vic Saier, the Slugger of the Cubs,” Baseball Magazine, September 1915: 78.

xxvii James Crusinberry, “Murray Joins Rogers’ Squad; Rain Balks Brooklyn Game,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 9, 1915: 11.

xxviii James Crusinberry, “Cubs Lose to Robins in 10th, After Leading by Six Runs,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 10, 1915: 15.

xxix “Dodgers Win But Drop back in the Race,” The New York Times, July 13, 1915.

xxx Warren Brown, The Chicago White Sox (New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1952), 63.

xxxi W. A. Carlson, “Eddie Collins,” Baseball Magazine, March 1915: 68.

xxxii Sam Weller, “Sox Start West Tuesday Night,” Chicago Daily Tribune, February 14, 1915: B1.

xxxiii Keene Gardiner, “Introducing Mr. Buck Weaver in New Role of Business Man,” Chicago Daily Tribune, February 15, 1915: 14.

xxxiv R.S. Ranson, “The White Sox,” Sporting Life, March 27, 1915: 4.

xxxv “Claims a Pitching Record,” Sporting Life, May 22, 1915: 8.

xxxvi James Crusinberry, “White Sox Beat Boston in 17 Inning Battle, 3 to 2,” Chicago Daily Tribune, May 22, 1915: 9.

xxxvii “Daring Stealing by White Hose Leaders, with Some Great Fielding, Spells Defeat for Red Sox,” Boston Daily Globe, May 24, 1915: 7.

xxxviii T.H. Murnane, “‘Smoky Joe’ Pulls White Sox out of Lead,” Boston Daily Globe, June 8, 1915: 6.

xxxix Chandler D. Richter, “New Sidelights on Baseball,” Sporting Life, June 26, 1915: 8.

xl Tom Ruane, “A Retro-Review of the 1910s (the 1914-1919 edition),” www.retrosheet.org/Research/RuaneT/rev1910_art.htm (accessed January 16, 2015).

xli James Crusinberry, “Sox Lam Ball; Crush Indians Despite Slips,” Chicago Daily Tribune, June 23, 1915: 14.

xlii James Crusinberry, “Sox Beat Cleveland in 19 Innings, 5 to 4,” Chicago Daily Tribune, June 25, 1915: 13.

xliii I.E. Sanborn, “Sox Trounce Mackmen, 6-4, in Crazy Game,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 15, 1915: 13.

xliv I.E. Sanborn, “Chicago Feds Sign Walter Johnson for Two Years,” Chicago Daily Tribune, December 4, 1914: 11.

xlv Clarence F. Lloyd, “St. Louis’ Story,” Sporting Life, December 12, 1914: 9.

xlvi “Otto Knabe’s Terrapins kicked the sperm oil out of Joe Tinker’s Whales” represents an excellent example. Sam Weller, “Swat by Mr. Zinn ‘K.O.’ for Whales at Baltimore, 9-8,” Chicago Daily Tribune, May 7, 1915: 11.

xlvii James Crusinberry, “Left Handers Beaten in Game at Whale Camp,” Chicago Daily Tribune, March 26, 1915: 18.

xlviii Sam Weller, “Outfielder Mann of Braves Jumps to Local Feds,” Chicago Daily Tribune, February 12, 1915: 16.

xlix Philip Morgan, “The Chicago Whales,” The Sporting Life, April 10, 1915: 7.

l “Notes of the Whales,” Chicago Daily Tribune, April 14, 1915: 13.

li “Chicago Chat,” The Sporting Life, May 1, 1915: 12. “In August he suffered one of the stranger injuries in baseball history. The Wilkes Barre Times Leader said that ‘Smith leaped for a hot one, lost his balance and doubled backwards wrenching the muscles of his neck and spiking himself in the back of the head. Smith was knocked out completely.’” Jim Sandoval, “Jimmy Smith,” sabr.org/bioproj/person/bcee87a4

(accessed January 15, 2015).

lii “Tinker Is out,” The Sporting Life, May 15, 1915: 13.

liii Sam Weller, “No Hits Made off Hendrix; Beats Rebels,” Chicago Daily Tribune, May 16, 1915: B1.

liv Sam Weller, “Brown Blanks Buffeds, 8 to 0, with One Swat,” Chicago Daily Tribune, June 19, 1915: 11.

lv Sam Weller, “Whales Defeat Terrapins, But Knabe Protests,” Chicago Daily Tribune, June 20, 1915: B1.

lvi J. J. Alcock, “Eastland Disaster Closes Whale Gate; Two Contests Today,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 26, 1915: 13.

lvii Sam Weller, “Brown Defeats Newfeds, 1 to 0, in Mound Duel,” Chicago Daily Tribune, June 30, 1915: 9.

lviii Sam Weller, “Whales Score 5 Runs in Ninth; Win in Twelfth,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 1, 1915: 13.

lix Sam Weller, “Three Run Rally in Twelfth Gives Whales Victory, 3 to 2,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 2, 1915: 13.

lx James Crusinberry, “Rajah, Aroused, Levies Big Fines on Zim and Zabel,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 21, 1915: 11.

lxi James Crusinberry, “Shakeup Coming Unless Cubs Get Hearts in Game,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 26, 1915: 13.

lxii John J. McGraw, “In the National League,” Boston Daily Globe, July 26, 1915: 4.

lxiii James Crusinberry, “Cubs back Home with Only Coin to Offset Woe,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 28, 1915: 9.

lxiv James Crusinberry, “Losing Streak of Cubs Ended by Even Break,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 31, 1915: 9.

lxv “Cutshaw Poles out Six Hits off Cubs,” The New York Times, August 10, 1915.

lxvi “Pierce and Zim Fight; Vaughn among Injured,” Chicago Daily Tribune, August 15, 1915: B1.

lxvii James Crusinberry, “Cubs and Braves Play 4-4 Tie; Archer Falls and Loses Run,” Chicago Daily Tribune, August 27, 1915: 9.

lxviii “Brooklyn Gets Cheney,” The New York Times, August 30, 1915.

lxix “No-Hit Game Won by Jim Lavender,” The New York Times, September 1, 1915.

lxx “American League Affairs,” The Sporting Life, August 7, 1914: 9.

lxxi “Chicago Baseman Tosses Game away,” The New York Times, August 1, 1915.

lxxii “Scott’s Wild Toss Lets in Winning Run,” The New York Times, August 3, 1915.

lxxiii I.E. Sanborn, “White Sox Fall in Two Battles at Washington,” Chicago Daily Tribune, August 7, 1915: 7.

lxxiv “Buck Weaver’s Poolroom Raided and 12 Arrested,” Chicago Daily Tribune, August 16, 1915: 1.

lxxv “Plot That Failed,” The Sporting Life, August 28, 1915: 9.

lxxvi T.H. Murnane, “‘Speed Boys owe This One to Ruth,” Boston Daily Globe, September 15, 1915: 1.

lxxvii I.E. Sanborn, “Chicago Gleanings,” The Sporting Life, October 2, 1915: 6.

lxxviii J. J. Alcock, “Brown Allows Only Three Hits; Whales Win, 4-1,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 23, 1915: 9.

lxxix “Brown Sent to Hospital; Now on Way to Recovery,” Chicago Daily Tribune, July 30, 1915: 9.

lxxx J. J. Alcock, “Whales Lose to Newfeds in Sixteen Inning Combat, 3-2,” Chicago Daily Tribune, August 3, 1915: 11.

lxxxi “Notes of the Whales,” Chicago Daily Tribune, August 6, 1915: 9.

lxxxii Mann had an FL-leading nineteen triples in 1915, including four in July, four in August, and seven in September.

lxxxiii Alcock called this quirk “a new wrinkle in Federal league rules.” J. J. Alcock, “Squeeze Play in Last Gives Whales 2-1 Victory Over Peps,” Chicago Daily Tribune, August 13, 1915: 9.

lxxxiv J. J. Alcock, “Fed Fans Flock to Whales Park for ‘Brown Day,’” Chicago Daily Tribune, August 23, 1915: 9.

lxxxv “Notes of the Whales,” Chicago Daily Tribune, August 31, 1915: 11.

lxxxvi Sam Weller, “Smith’s Error Helps Pittfeds Defeat Whales,” Chicago Daily Tribune, August 28, 1915: 11.

lxxxvii Sam Weller, “Whales Beaten in Binglefest at Kansas City,” Chicago Daily Tribune, September, 1915: B3.

lxxxviii Sam Weller, “No Hits, No Runs off Davenport; Whales Divide,” Chicago Daily Tribune, September 8, 1915: 11.

lxxxix J. J. Alcock, “Tribune Boy’s Swat Wins for Tinker in 15th,’” Chicago Daily Tribune, September 13, 1915: 11.

xc J. J. Alcock, “Tribune Boys Help Whales Win Twin Bill,’” Chicago Daily Tribune, September 20, 1915: 11.

xci J. J. Alcock, “Whales Win Pennant as 34,000 Fans Cheer,’” Chicago Daily Tribune, October 4, 1915: 13.

Why did Wrigley, Lasker, and the Chicago Cubs Join a Presidential Campaign?

Mark Souder

While professional baseball and politics have always been linked, only once has a major league baseball team become a voluntary part of a Presidential campaign.

The visible evidence of this happenstance is the 1920 Chicago Cubs’ exhibition game in a small Ohio town against a squad of local semi-professionals called the Kerrigan Tailors.

United States Senator Warren Harding, the Republican candidate for President, was running a controlled “front porch” campaign in his hometown of Marion, Ohio. Two Chicago men—the original advertising “Mad Man,” Albert Lasker, and the King of Gum, William Wrigley Jr.—were behind not only the game but also the election of Warren Harding as President. How and why did this happen?

Why Did the Harding Campaign Need Baseball?

Things were going well for the Harding campaign in 1920, due in large part to the first comprehensive presidential “marketing campaign” to include national advertising. Unfortunately, however, Warren Harding liked to play golf. Not that golf is bad, but during the “Progressive Era” of American politics, it was perceived as somewhat less than manly, a game played only by the rich. During this time in America, the wealthy were not universally adored.

Democrat Woodrow Wilson had won the previous two Presidential elections because of divisions between “progressive” and “stand pat” Republicans. An Indiana politician, Will Hays, had worked to bring peace to the party’s warring factions. Will Irwin, founder of Cummins Engine in Columbus, Indiana, held Indiana’s second-ranking political post. He recommended that Hays contact a business colleague—an advertising genius from Chicago named Albert Lasker. [i]

Lasker’s brilliance in advertising had led to repeated business success. California oranges were rotting and going unpurchased until Lasker branded them “Sunkist.” Raisins weren’t doing well; prunes were, in fact, more popular. (This period saw multiple California baseball teams called the Prunes, but no California Raisins.) Lasker rescued the sun-shriveled grapes by naming them “Sun-Maid.” ii iii

The Kimberly-Clark Corporation was stuck with excess paper products after World War I. Soon, their “Kleenex” product would become a generic term, Lasker having added “makeup remover” to the box to encourage women’s purchases. The same company was unsuccessful in selling sanitary napkins until Lasker’s advertising campaigns and improved product placement—heretofore it had to be bought from male druggists—made Kotex seem essential. As part of the deal for promoting Kimberly-Clark, and his other clients, Lasker received company stock as payment, so he did extremely well for himself. His home outside Chicago included 450 acres and 55 servants.

Lasker and his cadre of top-flight marketers and copywriters did it all: branding, advertising, sales strategy, and the like. Only the phenomenally successful Lucky Strike cigarette campaign was a joint effort with the company itself.

Will Hays, by this time National Republican Chairman, asked Lasker to meet with Harding and translate business marketing to politics. Lasker brought along a friend, William Wrigley, Jr.

Like Lasker, Wrigley was a great marketer. He certainly knew how to sell gum, and like Lasker, had the most valuable commodity in politics: money. Lots of it. With Wrigley on board, Lasker agreed to run Harding’s advertising and marketing.

Interestingly, Will Hays became—after just one year in Washington—the nation’s film czar, tasked with restoring public confidence in a new and powerful industry in danger of being sunk by the bad publicity resulting from pornographic movies (and criticism of the mostly Jewish film producers). At the same time Kenesaw Mountain Landis was trying to clean up baseball, Hays instituted a moral code governing what films “should” and “shouldn’t” legally show until the 1960s. While this code was said to be voluntary, it had its intended effect. iv

Albert Lasker was not only a wealthy advertising genius pioneering political marketing and advertising; along with his friend William Wrigley, he also owned the Chicago Cubs. To Lasker and Wrigley, the Cubs were mostly a hobby, rather than a source of their wealth. Baseball was a game: politics was about how nations would be ordered. And since the major issue of this presidential campaign was the League of Nations, this campaign was about the future of the world.

Unfortunately, someone associated with Harding thought a newsreel of the president playing golf would help his image. This was a serious issue, because newsreels were the only form of video communication available in 1920. And once people began seeing the newsreels in July, “Harding playing golf” bombed. [v]

While the resulting flood of negative mail against golf and those who played it is interesting, perhaps more interesting is this: in 1920, Lasker was already pioneering immediate market research. “Exit polling” was not invented by modern political consultants or television networks. At selected theaters, note-takers were on hand to hear comments from exiting viewers. Feedback quickly identified that the “golfing” portion was a disaster—Harding was identified as “rich,” not a common man.

Warren G. Harding chucks out the first ball at a Senators opener. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

It didn’t take long for the data to confirm that Harding was in trouble. One can only imagine the yelling, blame-throwing, and semi-panic at Republican headquarters in New York and Lasker’s ad agency in Chicago. “Now,” I’m sure the campaign and advertising planners were saying, “some idiot is about to undo everything we’ve done by associating Harding with golf.”

Every campaign has at least one pivotal moment. This was one. How could the campaign, with the election three months away, pull Harding out of this pit? Obviously, the League of Nations, the stormy rise of the Bolsheviks in Russia, and post-war labor turmoil in the US were the real issues of the campaign, but to be heard on those issues, Harding needed to be a man of the people not an effete rich guy.

The answer? Associate President Warren G. Harding with a manly, American common sport—baseball! Call Wrigley up and let’s get those Chicago Cubs over to Marion now .

The Cubs had a break in their schedule just before Labor Day. Lasker started seeking an opponent. No other team in the region had an off day, but double-headers were common so schedules could be adjusted. In political terms, scheduling was a “fake” problem; the problem was real but could be fixed if one wanted to fix it. Lasker, however, immediately ran into political problems—some in “real” politics and some in baseball.

Harding was a fan of the Cincinnati Reds. (One could literally say Harding was a die-hard fan, since his last discussion before dying was to ask his wife how the Reds had done that day.) But Cincinnati itself presented a variety of problems.

Garry Herrmann was the President of the Reds and head of the National Commission, the three-man governing body of baseball. The Reds had also won the 1919 World Series against the “Black Sox.” Sportswriter Hugh Fullerton, in 1920 employed by the Harding campaign, had warned the year before of a rumored Series fix. Lasker and Wrigley were already furious at Herrmann for trading the Cubs a ballplayer whom Herrmann knew had tried to fix a game. Frustrated with the potential ruin to the integrity of the game, Lasker proposed a plan for reorganizing baseball. vi

Bill Wrigley checks the tickertape. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

Real politics was involved as well. Cincinnati had been run politically for decades by the most famous political boss west of Tammany Hall: George Cox. Herrmann and a fellow Cox sidekick managed patronage. They were part of the Ohio Republican Party’s anti-Taft, anti-Harding, pro-Senator Joseph Foraker faction. To them “progressive” was a curse word. The most successful politician in their web was Mayor Julius Fleischmann, a wealthy man due to his family’s whiskey and yeast connections (their most famous product came later). Lasker’s request to the Reds came through the Jewish financial sources behind the 1920 Reds, but Herrmann made it clear that the Reds would not adjust their schedule to accommodate Warren Harding, of all people. So the Reds were out. vii

Most baseball sources suggest that Lasker then pursued an agreement with Charles Stoneham, the owner of the New York Giants. Unfortunately, John McGraw kiboshed the deal for political reasons. The problem with this theory is that Stoneham was aligned with Tammany Hall. While Tammany was no fan of Democrat Vice-Presidential nominee Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR) in 1920, it is unlikely that Stoneham wanted to help Lasker promote Harding. There was also the matter of Stoneham’s close ties to gambling kingpin Arnold Rothstein, who was already being fingered as the man behind the 1919 Series. It seems implausible that the New York Giants would help to rescue Harding’s image. viii

Then there was nearby Cleveland, home of the American League Indians, a contending club that later that year won one of its two World Series championships. The Indians were highly unlikely to change their schedule. There was also a serious baseball politics problem. New Indians owner Jim Dunn had purchased the team with a $100,000 loan from AL president Ban Johnson, a loan on which he still owed $60,000. The premise of the Lasker baseball re-organization plan was that someone not under control of the owners should make decisions so the public would have more “confidence” in those rulings. Johnson, along with Herrmann a fellow “target” of plan, would not rescue Lasker’s guy until Hell, not Lake Erie, froze over. ix

The solution was to simply tap into the huge local network of baseball teams. Every town back then had semi-pro clubs sponsored by local companies, often with former college, high school, or minor league players in their ranks. And that is how the Kerrigan Tailors came to play the Cubs on September 2, 1920.

Warren Harding even briefly pitched in the game, and the Cubs loaned Kerrigan a pitcher as well. The outcome of the game only mattered to the folks watching that day. The true purpose of the event was to generate moving pictures of Harding playing and talking baseball with famed pitcher Grover Cleveland Alexander and the other Cubs. Once shot, these films were sent to the nation’s theaters. As we politicians say, “great video.” The golf issue was buried.

Wrigley and Lasker: The Friendship

Lasker and Wrigley’s partnership as owners of the Cubs is well documented. Whether they were friends is speculative at best. Lasker had nominated Wrigley as a Cubs director before actually meeting him. Lasker’s hideaway office was in the same building as Wrigley’s, so after nominating him, Lasker convinced Wrigley to accept the post. As the team’s largest shareholder, Lasker had demanded that Wrigley be on the board because he wanted some allies with cash and business sense.

Wrigley never utilized Lasker’s advertising agency. This would make most investigators a tad suspicious about the closeness their relationship, especially since soon after Harding’s victory, Wrigley bought out most of Lasker’s Cubs shares. The newspaper stories of the time have a variety of excuses, as do biographers, but only one makes sense: both had strong opinions and wanted to stay friends, so one backed down. To say that neither was good at being a follower is to understate the point. [x] , xi

Lasker and Wrigley continued to serve on the board of Chicago’s Foreman Bank after dissolving their Cubs partnership. The son of the bank’s founder had married Lasker’s daughter. Lasker, however, seemed to avoid advertising entanglements with his friends. (They may be the only people he didn’t hard-sell.) A close friend of Lasker founded the Yellow Cab Company in 1915 and went on to considerable business success. John D. Hertz and Lasker were such good friends that they shared a bank account to which either could make changes without the other’s knowledge. Just prior to the stock market crash of 1929, Hertz withdrew and sold the account’s stocks, including Lasker’s.

While Lasker was initially upset at what Hertz had done—he did not agree that the market was going to crash—the action saved Lasker’s fortune. But like with Wrigley, Lasker never handled the advertising for Yellow Cab or other Hertz corporation properties.

While they seemed to be friends and shared some interests, there is no evidence that Wrigley and Lasker were personally close. In 1911, Wrigley purchased a mansion near Lincoln Park and a summer home on Lake Geneva, but after the gum company went public in 1919, Wrigley increasingly spent time (and money) out West. Lasker moved to Washington in 1921 after Harding won, not returning to Chicago until after Harding’s death.

Lasker appears not to have viewed Wrigley as an intellectual equal. While Wrigley seemed to be a friend of everyone and certainly did not shy away from being linked with Lasker, it is safe to assume that Lasker’s Jewish activism led him to different social circles than Wrigley’s. xii

Personalities are also important to friendships. Lasker was intense about everything: Wrigley was intense about gum. Fortune magazine once likened Wrigley to a jolly bartender. No one said that about Lasker. Wrigley seemed to be the eternal optimist. Lasker veered between optimism and a sometimes debilitating depression. They appeared to respect each other and get along when necessary, but “close” would not describe their friendship. In politics, “my good friend” means you aren’t enemies. xiii xiv

The fascinating and successful Albert Lasker. (Bain Collection, Library of Congress)

Wrigley and Lasker: The Politicians

While the Cubs were a valuable political prop at a critical moment in Harding’s campaign, it does not explain why Lasker and Wrigley agreed to meet with Harding at his Ohio home long before the Cubs were needed. Both men had actively supported major alternatives to Harding at the Convention. The core question, of course, is why wealthy businessmen become involved in politics, and the numerous answers vary in emphasis by individual.

The issues dealt with by government, especially the Federal Government, have always been sweeping. In that time, “trust” (monopoly) rulings could make or break a business. Lasker and Wrigley were both part of the “progressive” movement. Business owners, especially Protestant and Jewish, tended to associate with reformers fed up with big-city political corruption. Chicago has a deserved historic reputation for corruption.

Lasker initially supported California Senator Hiram Johnson—Teddy Roosevelt’s Vice-Presidential partner for the Progressive Party in 1912—in his bid for President. Lasker is said to have drawn Wrigley into both baseball and the Johnson campaign.

This claim, however, is simplistic. Lasker claimed that Wrigley knew nothing about baseball, though Wrigley had sponsored a semi-pro team years earlier called the Wrigley Nips. He also appears to have played the game growing up in Philadelphia. And Wrigley was an avid admirer of Teddy Roosevelt, so converting him to a campaign for Hiram Johnson would not have been especially difficult. TR, who had hoped to run in 1920, died in 1919, and Johnson was his political heir.

Johnson was not especially likable and was busy proving that he had no chance to win. Reformers began to cluster around General Leonard Wood as a candidate. Wrigley and Lasker, as later noted in a congressional investigation, poured thousands into Wood’s campaign.

But complications developed in Chicago, home to the 1920 Republican Convention. Others jumped into the presidential fray, including Illinois governor Frank Lowden. (Incidentally, the key Cook County coordinator of Lowden’s gubernatorial campaign had been his college friend Kenesaw Mountain Landis; some raised eyebrows would be appropriate.) The agreeable Wrigley, a delegate to the Convention from Illinois, actually voted for Lowden rather than for the initial leading vote-getter, Wood, nor third-place Johnson, both of whom he had funded. Harding, in fifth place far behind the top three on the first ballot, was supposedly selected by the political bosses in a smoke-filled suite at Chicago’s Blackstone Hotel. The key part of the deal was Lowden’s agreement to move his votes to Harding.

Lasker, more than Wrigley, was motivated by a specific issue: isolationism. Lasker cared most deeply about blocking American participation in the League of Nations. It is unclear how Wrigley felt about the issue. Lasker cuttingly said that Wrigley was a “one-idea man” who lived for Wrigley’s Chewing Gum. Lasker not only tried to force Harding into openly opposing the League as part of accepting the marketing assignment (no source even hints that Wrigley disagreed with Lasker on this), but also continued to pressure Harding on the issue throughout the campaign.

Wrigley later did articulate one political issue he cared about beyond the importance of being positive and working hard. When Calvin Coolidge became President after Harding’s death, Wrigley was a major proponent of Coolidge’s tax cut engineered by Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon. An enthusiastic Wrigley wrote that if Mellon sought the Republican nomination against Coolidge in 1928, he’d easily win. (Wrigley was a bit out of touch politically.) xv

Meanwhile in 1928, Lasker was trying to re-start the Hiram Johnson bandwagon against Coolidge’s re-nomination. Wrigley again funded Johnson’s 1924 campaign efforts before deciding that Coolidge was going to win re-nomination and was friendlier towards cutting taxes. Both men knew how to promote and advertise, but had severe political limitations.

Beyond those basic issues of opposing the League and desiring lower taxes, another even larger factor explains Wrigley’s and Lasker’s involvement in politics. The wealthy who get involved often have accomplished business success and are ready for some life changes. These people don’t necessarily abandon business involvement, but are wealthy enough that it no longer consumes them. For example, Lasker moved to Washington after the 1920 campaign because, substantially wealthy, he felt his business could succeed without his regular involvement.

Businessmen, often myopic in focus which leads to their success (i.e., Wrigley only thinking about gum), find politics intoxicating in multiple ways. The combination of power and victory after intense competition can intoxicate anyone, including the most famous movie stars, Wall Street financiers, and athletes. Wealthy businessmen with time to spare are not immune. Some, like Lasker, are heavily involved for a period while others, like Wrigley, are only marginally involved but stay engaged for a longer period.

Wrigley took his company public in 1919 and as a result suddenly came into even bigger stacks of cash. He remained President of Wrigley, and still dominated the gum world, but after the introduction of P.K. gum in 1921, his company introduced only one new product, a wartime gum, over the next 55 years. Product innovation was not his skill: Wrigley consolidated his products and promoted them hard. Cubs fans are probably not surprised. xvi

But Wrigley personally was suddenly a changed man, as explained by his activities over a few short years after the IPO. Wrigley bought Catalina Island, Wrigley Field in Los Angeles, and the Angels PCL team as well as a mansion in Pasadena that his wife wanted mainly for its good seat from which to watch the Tournament of Roses parade. (The home is now Parade headquarters.) Wrigley also loved Phoenix and helped to grow it, investing in and eventually owning the famed Biltmore hotel. He also constructed an adjacent mansion, wintered in Phoenix, and encouraged millionaire friends to move there as well. Back in Chicago he built the iconic Wrigley Building and took over the Cubs. And helped elect a President. It was a busy few years. xvii , xviii , xix , xx

Wrigley remained interested in politics. He was a delegate to the Republican National Conventions of 1924 and 1928. Presidents Calvin Coolidge and Herbert Hoover both visited Catalina Island. During the three years of Harding’s Presidency, Wrigley visited the White House often enough to be listed as part of Harding’s “Poker” Cabinet but largely withdrew from politics except for providing some funding and friendship to various Presidents. Among Harding’s last words were the wish to do some deep sea fishing at Wrigley’s Catalina Island home. xxi , xxii

The regard with which Albert Lasker was held is reflected in this 1923 photo at the Yankees' home opener as he sits between Postmaster General Harry New and President Harding. (Bain Collection, Library of Congress)

Lasker’s involvement with President Harding was far more intense. He headed an agency that following World War I was very important: the National Shipping Board. It oversaw what to do with excess Navy vessels and the nation’s shipyards and oversaw America’s new role as the dominant power on the seas—a personal interest of Harding’s. Mrs. Harding adopted Mrs. Lasker as well. As a result, the Laskers ate at the White House three to four times a week. On a long vacation trip to the South, the Laskers joined the Hardings. Lasker complained, in fact, of having to play golf with Harding so often that his arms hurt.

During the campaign, Lasker had been called on to “fix” a number of Harding’s numerous personal problems. Another strong indicator of Lasker’s loyalty to Harding was his financing a significant percentage of the support for Harding’s mistress Nan Britton (and their child) after Harding’s death.

Lasker left Washington for a number of reasons, including his frustration with the never-ending negotiations of politicians and the fickle public, which couldn’t just be ordered to do things. He also didn’t care for Harding’s successor, Calvin Coolidge (a feeling which likely was reciprocated). Furthermore, Lasker’s business needed his attention again.

Often ignored in discussions of Lasker is the difficulty at the time of being Jewish. Lasker fully utilized his Jewish connections in the movie industry, baseball, and finance. Part of the reason he has not received his historical due is that he was forced to understate his involvement in the campaign.

Henry Ford wrote, in 1920, an article titled the “Jewish Degradation of American Baseball,” which became part of a book published during the campaign year titled The International Jew: The World’s Foremost Problem . xxiii

Ford blamed the world’s problems entirely on the Jews, focusing especially on Jewish influences in baseball. He claimed that “the Jewish coterie in Chicago” manipulated the “Gentile boobs” and led to the Black Sox scandal. Ford included a direct attack on Lasker and the plan to remove Ban Johnson. “Then it was that the Jew lawyer, [Alfred] Austrian (attorney for both Lasker and Charles Comiskey, also feuding with Johnson at the time), came forth with the ‘Lasker Plan,’ named for his Jewish friend Lasker, member of the American Jewish Committee, head of Lord & Thomas (Gentile names) and Chairman of the United States Shipping Board.” Ford’s article just goes downhill from there.

Lasker also faced rough grilling in Washington, but Harding not only stuck with him but also appointed him to a highly visible position. In fact, Albert Lasker was only the third Jew in history to hold a high post in American government. While Lasker went to the background, he obviously was not overly intimidated; just a few years later, he was again promoting Hiram Johnson for President.

It is clear that from the ownership days of Albert Spalding and his political involvement to the modern-day Ricketts family, politics and baseball have long been part of the Chicago Cubs tradition.

i Morello, John A ., Selling the President, 1920: Albert D. Lasker, Advertising, and the Election of Warren G. Harding . Westport, CT: Praeger, 2001.

ii Crunkshank, Jeffrey, and Arthur Schultz, The Man Who Sold America: The Amazing (but True!) Story of Albert D. Lasker and the Creation of Advertising.  Boston: Harvard Business Review Press, 2010.

iii Gunther, John Taken at the Flood: The Story of Albert D. Lasker . New York: Harper & Brothers, 1960.

iv “Will H. Hays,” entry at IMDb.com

v Roman, Kenneth . “Present at the Birth of Modern Advertising: The world of ‘Mad Men’ was really brought to you by a Chicago-based agency and its mercurial founder,” Wall Street Journal , July 30, 2010.

vi Troy, Gil, “Money and Politics: The Oldest Connection,” Wilson Quarterly, Summer 1997.

vii Russell, Francis. The Shadow of Blooming Grove: Warren G. Harding and His Times. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1968.

viii Hall, Sheryl Smart, Warren G. Harding and the Marion Daily Star: How Newspapering Shaped a President . Gloucestershire, UK: History Press, 2014.

ix “Wrigley Owns Chicago Cubs: Acquires Holdups of Albert Lasker After Disagreement,” The Hamilton (Ohio) Journal-News, June 6, 1925.

x “Wrigley Buys More Chicago Cub Stock,” Harrisburg (PA) Telegraph, June 6, 192 5.

xi Information found on Wrigley.com/global

xii Bachelor, Bob, “Corporate Innovators: William Wrigley,” from The 1900s. Westport, CT: Greenwood Publishing Company, 2002.

xiii Morello, John, “Albert Lasker, 1880-1952,” at immigrantentrepresneurship.org. Written June 8, 2011, updated June 26, 2013.

xiv “Albert Lasker, Marketing Master: Young advertising upstart becomes Founder of Modern Advertising,” Dictionary of Leading Chicago Businesses (1820—2000), prepared by Mark R. Wilson, at hardtofindseminars.com.

xv Boxerman, Burton A., and Benita W. Boxerman, Jews and Baseball: Volume 1, Entering the American Mainstream, 1871-1948 . Jefferson, NC: McFarland Publishing, 2006.

xvi Golenbock, Peter. Wrigleyville: A Magical History Tour of the Chicago Cubs . New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2007.

xvii Mannering, Mitchell, “The Sign of the Spear: The Story of William Wrigley, Who Made Spearmint Gum Famous,” National Magazine , 1912.

xviii Clark, S.J. Duncan, “Then Tell the World: This is William Wrigley, Jr’s Formula for Success,” Illustrated World , 1922.

xix “Four Buildings and a Funeral—Wrigley: The Architecture that Remains after a Great Company Dies,” found on Architecture Chicago Plus website

xx “Wrigley Jr. and Veeck Sr.” found on WrigleyIvy.com

xxi Lower, Richard Coke, A Bloc of One: The Political Career of Hiram W. Johnson , Stanford University Press, 1993.

xxii Greene, Frank, “The Day Harding Died,” from Essays, Papers & Addresses, found at the Calvin Coolidge Foundation

xxiii Krieger, Diane, “Treasured Island: Three Generations of Wrigleys have watched over the paradise that is Catalina Island,” USC Trojan Family magazine, Autumn 1999

Silas K. Johnson: An Illinois Farm Boy Who Made Baseball History

Matthew M. Clifford

Silas Kenneth Johnson was born in Danway, Illinois on Friday, October 5, 1906. He shared his strong Norwegian heritage with older brother Alvin. Their parents, Nels and Tillie Johnson, added two more male siblings—Jesse and Tilman—to the family roster soon after Si was born.

The clan soon migrated to the small town of Marseilles, Illinois, where each family member contributed to a 460-acre farm. When chores were completed at the end of the day, young Silas and his father played countless hours of catch between the family barn and windmill. Before he became a farmer, Nels had been a semi-pro catcher for the Danway Indians.

The baseball “bug” passed from father to son. Old man Johnson soon became Silas’ most reliable (and important) backstop. Si recalled his patriarch’s efforts in a 1990 interview: “That was quite a help to me, learning from my dad some of the fundamentals of the game, some of the things a kid needed to know to play well.” [i]

Nels would become even more important to the family in 1920, when Tillie passed away just weeks before Silas graduated from elementary school. The young man went on to attend Newark High School in Newark, Illinois.

In 1922, Silas gained a stepmother, four stepbrothers, and a stepsister after his father married Pearl Sampson, a World War I widow. Silas graduated high school and continued to work on the Johnson farm. When he wasn’t working or pitching, Si courted Doris Birlee “Dot” Thompson, a farmer’s daughter who lived two miles from the Johnson acres.

Si joined a baseball club in Marseilles that was part of a semi-pro league including teams from Danway, Stavanger, Norway, and other local towns. As a pitcher for Marseilles, Silas was 22–3 in 1927. The following year, Johnson saw an advertisement for a baseball tryout camp for the Rock Island, IL Islanders, a team in the Class D Mississippi Valley League (MSVL). “I was working for my dad on the farm, working from daylight to dark for $20 a month,” Johnson remembered in a 1992 interview. “I told him that anything had to be easier than farming.” ii Si left home to pursue a career in organized baseball.

The Rock Island Argus announced on March 7, 1928, that Johnson would join the Islander roster. “The Rock Island baseball club took on its tenth pitcher today. The newcomer is Silas Johnson of Marseilles, Ill., a right-handed rookie who will try to make good on his strikeout record with the Marseilles semi-pro team.” iii The team was skippered by Lester “Pat” Patterson, who noticed Johnson’s skills during spring training. Silas was sent to the mound more frequently than any other Rock Island pitcher. He earned himself 19 wins and 10 losses as an Islander and the team finished third in the MSVL.

Cincinnati Reds scout Bill “Pa” Rourke snatched Si, and his hot right arm, for $1,500 in late August. On September 11, 1928, Silas K. Johnson made his major league debut decked in Cincinnati Reds flannel. (On this same date, baseball legend Ty Cobb played his final game as a major leaguer.) With only a handful of games left on the schedule, rookie Johnson appeared in two contests before the season closed.

Following spring training in 1929, the Reds sent Johnson back to Ohio to join the Columbus Senators of the American Association. Si became a reliable hurler for the 1929 Senators. Team manager Nemo Liebold used Johnson as one of his key pitchers, and Si earned a 16–13 record. Cincinnati came a-calling for Johnson in late August 1929 and the pitcher was happy to regain major league status.

The club went through major changes between the 1929 and 1930 seasons. Wealthy Cincinnati businessman Sidney Weil purchased the team from a syndicate headed by Louis Widrig and Campbell Johnson “C.J.” McDiarmid. Weil’s first executive decision was to remove Jack Hendricks as manager and replace him with Dan Howley.

While Johnson was enjoying his winter break in 1930, his step-brother, Glenn Sampson, pitched Si a business proposition. The half-siblings agreed to lease the Norway Store in nearby Norway. The popular storefront sold Scandinavian groceries and goods to local residents and visiting tourists. Sampson agreed to manage store operations during the spring and summer, while Si would take watch during the fall and winter. The pair ran the Norway Store until 1945.

In spring 1931, Johnson returned to the Reds and became the team’s most frequent hurler, handling 262 innings. Unfortunately, the last-place Cincinnati club did not hit much, and Johnson finished with an 11–19 record.

Johnson did spill some ink into the history books before the season ended. On August 29, the Reds visited the Chicago Cubs at Wrigley Field and Si had significant interactions with two players on the opposing roster.

In the bottom of the third, Si served up the last home run of Hack Wilson’s Cubs career. The Windy City crowd’s cheers faded, however, when Johnson tossed a high fastball to the Cubs’ rookie second baseman, Billy Herman. “Johnson threw and Billy took a tremendous swing. The ball hit the ground in back of the plate and, with wicked reverse English, bounced straight back, smacking Billy right on the head. Billy Herman was carried off the field on a stretcher—knocked out by his own foul ball!” iv

Silas returned to Illinois in October and proposed marriage to his 17-year-old sweetheart, Dot Thompson, with a one-year engagement. The pitcher spent his winter vacation watching the Norway Store and working on his father’s farm in Danway.

In 1932, the popular Johnson pitched in more games than anyone else on the Cincinnati roster. But Johnson’s impressive twirls were futile since the Reds, once again, did not hit. The team remained deep in the cellar.

After the last game of the season, Johnson hopped a train in Chicago and returned to Sheridan to collect his new bride. On October 5, his 26 th birthday, he married Dot and the newlyweds travelled to Picnic Point, Wisconsin to celebrate their honeymoon.

Si went back to work for the Reds in 1933, but once again the team had difficulty putting runs on the board and hurlers such as Johnson, Paul Derringer, and Red Lucas suffered poor won-lost records. Si earned a 7–18 mark before being called home for a family emergency. His younger brother, Jesse, was ill with scarlet fever. Pneumonia developed in late August and Jesse was quarantined days before his death on September 6. Silas was devastated.

Back in Ohio, the Cincinnati Reds sank again into last place. The club was in danger, suffering from low attendance and a reputation as a “jinxed” franchise. Weil forfeited ownership to Cincinnati’s Central Trust Bank in December.

The bank execs hired Larry MacPhail, heretofore president of the Cardinals’ Double-A Columbus franchise, to control Cincinnati’s major league assets. Less than three months after his appointment, MacPhail persuaded millionaire Powel Crosley Jr., who had made his money in the new field of radio, to purchase stock in the Reds. Crosley became the club’s dominant stockholder and president.

The team renamed its stadium, Redland Field, to Crosley Field. With new money, the club added new players and hired onetime St. Louis Cardinals catcher Bob O’Farrell as team manager and Burt Shotton as his coach. The Reds continued to shop in Missouri, acquiring two new hurlers from the St. Louis flock: Sylvester “Syl” Johnson and Charles “Dazzy” Vance.

The Reds were credited with a historical highlight on June 8, 1934, when they became the first team to travel by airplane. The Reds took to the skies in Ohio and landed in Illinois to play the Cubs at Wrigley Field. “We left Cincinnati and we had to stop in Indianapolis and gas up to get to Chicago,” explained Johnson in a 1979 interview. “Ernie Lombardi and Jim Bottomley were afraid to fly and wouldn’t get on.” [v]

When the ’34 season ended, the Reds, despite new personnel, had once again crash-landed in last place with 52 wins and a whopping 99 losses. It was a tough year for Johnson; his 7–22 mark made him the losingest pitcher in the National League.

The following February, the New York Yankees shed legendary George “Babe” Ruth, who signed on with the NL’s Boston Braves of the National League. Every NL pitcher, including Si Johnson, looked forward to their chance to face the Great Bambino.

Powel Crosley made alterations to the Reds’ stadium during May 1935, adding electrical lighting above the grandstands. Crosley Field became the first major league stadium that could accommodate both day and night games. On May 24, the Reds hosted the majors’ first night game. U.S. President Franklin Roosevelt turned on the lights at the Cincinnati stadium from a switch installed at the White House in Washington, D.C.

The following day, Babe Ruth smashed the 714 th and last home run of his career for the Braves at Forbes Field in Pittsburgh. Twenty-four hours later, May 26, the Braves came to Crosley Field to celebrate “Babe Ruth Day.” Silas Johnson was ordered to handle the full nine by his newly appointed manager, Charlie Dressen.

Ruth stepped to the plate four times during the contest and Johnson fanned the Sultan of Swat in three of them. Ruth popped up in his fourth attempt. The Babe announced his retirement from professional baseball on June 2.

Johnson recalled his last moments with Ruth in a 1993 interview with Sports Illustrated : “Babe was on his way out by then. He was practically washed up, the poor guy. Those pitches were all fastballs down the middle. People came to see the Babe hit the ball, but he was late on every swing. Don’t tell anybody, but I was hoping the Babe would hit one out. He was a hell of a swell fella.” vi

Silas appeared in 30 games in 1935 with a 5–11 record. The Reds improved to sixth place that year. Johnson, however, experienced a setback the next May when Reds management demoted him to the International League’s Toronto Maple Leafs. An article on May 16 explained: “Pitchers Si Johnson and Emmett Nelson of the Cincinnati Reds packed up today and headed toward Toronto. Announcement of their release, subject to recall, was made last night by General Manager Larry S. MacPhail of the Reds.” vii

Three months after assigning him to Canada, the big leagues called back. The St. Louis Cardinals had swooped in and took Johnson from Cincinnati’s grip. Si became a part of the St. Louis’ infamous “Gashouse Gang.” The team garnered the nickname in 1934 for their shabby, unwashed uniforms that reeked of odors from the St. Louis factories that burned coal into the gas supply used for lighting and cooking. In the late weeks of September 1937, Si got a dose of bad luck during batting practice at Wrigley Field in Chicago. Cubs’ first baseman Phil Cavarretta fouled a ball backward. Si, standing near the dugout, was hit square on the head and knocked unconscious. Taken to a local hospital, Johnson was diagnosed with a concussion and returned to the mound days later. Overall, Silas had a good year with the Cardinals and posted a 12–12 mark.

Late in April 1938, Johnson and fellow Cards pitcher Roy “Pee-wee” Henshaw were sent down to St. Louis’ farm team, the Rochester Red Wings. Both appealed to Baseball Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis claiming the demotions were unfair. Amazingly enough, the Judge insisted that Johnson and Henshaw should be given another chance with the Cardinals before being shunned to the minors, noting that the two hadn’t been given enough of a chance to show whether they could play in the majors.

Si and Roy not only returned to the club but also asked for salary increases, requests that did not sit well with St. Louis’ GM, Branch Rickey.

The shrewd boss brought Henshaw back to the Cardinals, but adamantly refused to let Johnson return to the team. Landis responded by reminding Rickey that he was still required to fulfill Johnson’s yearly salary of $7,500. Si, then, would receive $6,000 from the Cards’ Rochester team for his services, leaving the responsibility of the remaining $1,500 to the Cardinals.

Johnson refused to report to Rochester and returned to his home in Sheridan to wait for a Rickey’s decision. The May newspapers explained the pitcher’s quandary. “Si Johnson, who doesn’t know whether or not he’s a pitcher for the St. Louis Cardinals, was sitting tight on his farm near Sheridan today after being optioned to Rochester in the International League for the second time.” viii When all was said and done, Branch declined to bring Johnson back to St. Louis and chose to pay the additional $1,500. Silas earned a major league paycheck to play in the minors.

Johnson reported to Rochester, New York and met his new skipper, Ray Blades, before the first week of June. The pitcher collected 14 wins and 11 losses for the Red Wings. Henshaw’s moments with the Cardinals ended immediately after the ’38 season closed; press and fans were not surprised when Roy received a one-way ticket to Rochester. Both he and Johnson again toiled for the Red Wings in 1939.

Team president Oliver French replaced manager Blades with Cardinals legend Billy Southworth, who gave Johnson a heavy load of assignments as the International League season progressed. His skills caught the attention of Boston Red Sox scout Billy Evans in September. The former umpire offered the Red Wings a check for $15,000 in exchange for Si. Rochester returned a counter-offer, asking for Red Sox outfielder Tom Carey and cash. Evans refused. Rochester released Silas to the draft in October. The Philadelphia Phillies purchased him for $7,500—half the price Boston had offered the Red Wings two months earlier.

The Phillies had come up last in the National League in both 1938 and 1939 and it didn’t take Si long to realize the weakness of the Phillies’ hitters. Working as a relief pitcher for a team that couldn’t score runs burned Johnson’s pitching record to a 5–14 result. The dilemma was all too familiar to Johnson. The Phillies finished last again in 1940.

Johnson returned home in the fall and attended his stepmother’s funeral in Danway. History repeated in 1941 as the Phils drowned in the cellar for the fourth year in a row. In December, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and the U.S. joined World War II. President Roosevelt stated that baseball should continue in order to keep U.S. spirits high during wartime.

In 1942, several major league players enlisted with the military. Stars like Joe DiMaggio, Bob Feller, and Ted Williams eventually traded baseball fields for battlefields.

The Phils fought a personal war with themselves in 1942 as each player struggled to avoid another last-place finish, but weak hitting doomed the team to the cellar for the fifth consecutive year. Si was understandably frustrated, earning a disheartening 8–19 record.

In January 1943, Si worked as a deputy sheriff for the LaSalle County Sheriff’s Department in Ottawa, Illinois. He served the office during the fall and winter months. Since his departure from St. Louis, Silas had kept in touch with his close friends and former Gashouse associates Dizzy Dean and Johnny Mize. Dizzy would visit Si during the winter at the Norway Store to play a few rounds of checkers and sign autographs for local fans. Mize would travel to Si’s farm in Sheridan to hunt and fish.

During one of his visits with Johnson, Mize told his comrade that he planned to enlist with the United States Navy. Johnny collected his sailor’s neckerchief in March 1943. Silas stayed on shore and reported to Hershey, Pennsylvania High School for Phillies’ spring training. There he met the Phillies’ new owner, William Cox. In late February, Cox hired former AL manager Stanley “Bucky” Harris to pilot his Phillies. William befriended Phillies’ veterans, including Johnson. The team also welcomed Lynwood “Schoolboy” Rowe.

Through June 1943, the Phillies had improved to a .500 club. Problems between Cox and National League president Ford Frick, however, made headlines. On June 5, the Phillies visited the Cardinals at Sportsman’s Park in St. Louis. A heavy rainstorm developed and the game was called in the eighth inning with the Cards leading 1–0.

Cox insisted that St. Louis should have been forced to forfeit the contest to the Phillies, since the Missouri franchise had made no effort to cover the infield from the rainstorm. Frick initially sided with St. Louis, and Cox retaliated with aggressive statements against the NL boss. Cox took his complaint to Judge Landis, who ordered the game replayed from the point of the delay—and the Phillies won. Fanatics admired Cox’s defense, while other club owners frowned at his personal attacks.

In late June, Si Johnson was pulled into the dramatics. The 1943 All-Star game was approaching and team managers from both leagues sent in their player choices to the league presidents.

The newspapers printed the positions each player would occupy at the All-Star game on July 13. Silas was assigned to pitch batting practice. Cox, however, contacted Johnson to discuss the assignment, and apparently the conversation did not go well. On July 3, Cox sent Frick’s office a blazing telegram: “We have no faith whatever in any decision coming from the league office. We prefer in the future to call upon any well-known swami for a decision. Mr. Silas K. Johnson regrets he will be unable to attend your bunting and throwing party on July 13.”

Baseball executives from both leagues were appalled at Cox’s behavior and explicit rudeness. Si’s reputation fell subject to the same judgments, even though he appeared to not been responsible for the dust-up. Johnson chose to divorce himself from the unfavorable situation and pitched his last game of the season on July 11. With an 8–3 record, he left the Phillies to join the U.S. Navy.

The newspapers explained his swift military induction: “Si Johnson, Philadelphia Phillies veteran pitcher, has passed his physical examination and will report to a Marseilles draft board for induction in three weeks. Johnson is 37 years old, is married and has no children.” ix

William Cox’s true colors were shown before the season closed; Judge Landis learned that the Phillies’ owner had been laying bets on games played by his team.

The situation must have brought on déjà vu for the Judge. With the same compassion he had offered to gamblers during the 1919 Black Sox scandal, the commissioner threw Cox out of professional baseball permanently on November 23. Cox was the first non-player banned from baseball.

Silas bid farewell to his wife and went to the Great Lakes Naval Base, north of Chicago, to enlist on August 2. He worked as a seaman on base but never experienced combat. Johnson’s age deterred his deployment. The sailor did spend several weeks in the naval base hospital, however, due to an excruciating ear infection. In April 1944, Johnson underwent successful mastoid surgery. “Silas Johnson, former St. Louis Cardinal and Philadelphia Phillies pitcher, who is stationed at the Great Lakes Naval Training station, was in “good” condition today after an operation for mastoid at the base hospital yesterday.” [x]

The Great Lakes Naval Base included a baseball team called the Blue Jackets and Silas joined the pitching staff. His Philadelphia teammate, “Schoolboy” Rowe, joined also the Navy Team, which included stars Johnny Mize, Billy Herman, and Virgil Trucks. The Blue Jackets, managed by Lieutenant Gordon “Mickey” Cochrane, played other naval divisions, local businesses, and even an Indiana prison team. Organized baseball was played in all military branches to help lift soldier morale and minimize the depression from the war. Johnson was discharged from Navy service in 1946.

The 39-year-old Johnson returned to Philadelphia that spring, but his time with the Quakers was short. The Phillies released him April 29, and the Boston Braves signed him as a free agent the following day. Johnson joined two sensational pitchers who would become fixtures in Boston Braves baseball lore: lefty Warren Spahn, who came up in June, and righty Johnny Sain.

In Boston, Silas reunited with his old Rochester boss, Billy Southworth, the new manager of the club. An aging Johnson appeared in 28 games, put up a 6–5 record, and posted a career-low 2.76 ERA. The Braves came in fourth in the National League and Silas was finally part of a successful club.

The 1947 Braves came in third place, but this was to be Johnson’s last hurrah. After working 17 major league seasons and pitching 2,281 innings, Johnson hung up his glove after appearing in his final game on September 25. Si was released from his playing contract in November; he did return to Boston in 1948, however, as a batting-practice pitcher.

The 1948 Braves captured the NL pennant and headed to the World Series to challenge Lou Boudreau’s Cleveland Indians. Silas continued his assignment into the Fall Classic and with it earned a memento he would cherish for the rest of his life: a World Series ring. Boston lost the series in six games.

The Braves hired Johnson as pitching coach until he was fired in spring 1950. At that point, the 44-year-old returned to Sheridan with a hat full of memories and a wife in need of a “home base.” Silas explained his baseball retirement in a 1978 interview: “I pitched in the big leagues for 17½ years and spent four years as a coach for Boston…my wife told me she was tired of travel. We owned a home for 15 years and we had never lived in it. So I told her I would quit.” xi

Johnson found employment with the Illinois Department of Corrections at a prison facility in Sheridan. He worked as an engineer at the jail, maintaining the heating system and boiler room equipment. Si was a loyal employee at the prison for 16 years. He and Dot purchased a cabin in Danbury, Wisconsin and enjoyed the rustic setting during the winter months.

Si remained active after his retirement from the prison. He became an active member of the Sheridan Rod & Gun Club and the Sheridan Masonic Lodge while managing Sheridan’s American Legion baseball team.

After 53 years of marriage, Silas and his wife Dot were separated when she passed away on June 7, 1986. Si remained in Sheridan and spent his remaining years telling stories to the town’s young and old baseball fans. The Village of Sheridan board of directors awarded Johnson a tremendous honor, voting unanimously to name a street after him. Sheridan’s busy Main Street was retitled “Si Johnson Avenue” on July 6, 1992.

The Ottawa Daily Times noted the following day: “Village board members Monday adopted an ordinance renaming Main Street Si Johnson Avenue. Johnson said this morning he knows that babies have been named after him but he’s never had a street named after him.” xii The day after his street sign ordinance was passed, the Chicago Cubs invited the 85 year-old to Wrigley Field to throw out the ceremonial first pitch at a game between the Cubs and the Cincinnati Reds. Silas also appeared at several baseball card shows in the Chicago suburbs, signing autographs for no charge.

The ex-pitcher enjoyed reliving his career through interviews for newspapers, books, and magazines. Peggy Bermel, Johnson’s personal secretary, was a close friend of Si’s who handled his challenging schedule and escorted him to events. In January 1993, Chicago’s Pitch & Hit Professional Baseball Organization invited Johnson to a banquet at Martinique Restaurant in Evergreen Park and presented him with an award and induction into the Pitch & Hit Hall of Fame.

At age 87, Silas Kenneth Johnson died at his Sheridan home on May 12, 1994, after a two-year battle with cancer.

He went down in the history books as the last major league pitcher to strike out Babe Ruth three times in a game. In 2010, he was inducted posthumously to the Newark High School Hall of Fame. Si’s nephew, Ken Thompson, accepted the award. Today, a collage of Johnson’s photographs and baseball cards is proudly displayed at the Norway Store. Additional photo exhibits of Johnson’s life are at Sheridan’s popular Calico Café restaurant, the Sheridan Village Hall, the Robert W. Rowe public library, and the Sheridan Historical Society Museum.

Sources:

Internet Sources:

Baseball-Reference.com

Retrosheet.org

Baseball Almanac

MLB.com

Baseball Hall of Fame Library & Museum

BaseballLibrary.com

Norwegianamerican.com

Boston-Braves.com

SABR Encyclopedia (SABR Members)

Books:

Blake, Michael. Baseball Chronicles . Detroit: Betterway Books, 1994.

Gogan, Roger. Bluejackets of Summer . Ypsilanti, MI: Great Lakes Sports Publishing, 2008.

Johnson, Harold. Who’s Who in Baseball . Chicago, Buxton Press, 1933.

Kaufman, Alan S., and Kaufman, James C. The Worst Baseball Pitchers of All Time. Secaucus, NJ: Carol Publishing, 1995.

Nash, Bruce, and Zullo, Allan. Baseball Hall of Shame .  New York: Pocket Books, 1985.

Pitoniak, Scott. Baseball in Rochester . Charleston, SC: Arcadia Publishing, 2003.

Weeks, Jonathan. Cellar Dwellers . Lanham, Scarecrow Press, 2012.

Newspapers:

The Sporting News (1928–1950)

The Chicago Tribune (1992–1994)

The Chicago Sun-Times (1992–1994)

The Milwaukee Journal (1943–1945)

The Ottawa Daily Times (1970–2013)

Sports Collector Digest (1980–1990)

The Associated Press (1927–1950)

The United Press (1927–1950)

Magazines:

Mandernach, Mark. “The Day the Bambino Bombed.” Sports Illustrated , Volume 78, Issue #23, June 14, 1993.

Holtzman, Jerome. “Babe Ruth’s Last Stand Still a Vivid Memory.” Baseball Digest , August 1992.

Personal Correspondence:

Mel Bashore (Vintage Photography Collector), email correspondence, 04/01/2011

John Ring (Galesburg Zephyr Newspaper), telephone interview, 06/05/2011

Chris Carmack (Rock Island Library Resources), email correspondence, 03/02/ 2011

Mary Brace (Brace Photography, Chicago), email correspondence, 04/10/2010

Peggy Bermel (Si Johnson’s Personal Secretary), personal interviews, 2010-2013

Gary Stutzman (Beacon News/Hillsboro Argus), email correspondence, 06/03/2011

Tom Templeton (Sheriff, LaSalle County Sheriff’s Department), personal interview, 02/16/2011

Joe Phillips (Vintage Baseball Glove Appraiser), email correspondence, 03/11/2011

Dave Johnson (The Norsk Museum), email correspondence, 06/01/2013

Michael Hall (History Teacher, Newark High School), personal interview, 02/16/2011

Jim Mattson (WHOI News Anchor), email correspondence, 02/05/2011

John Skipper (Author), email correspondence, 04/02/2010

Sandy Vahl (Sheridan Historical Society President), email/USPS, 02/11/2011, 01/14/2013

Additional assistance:

Freddy Berowski (National Baseball Hall of Fame & Museum records review request)

Danielle Clifford (Research assistance)

The Village of Sheridan

The Norsk Museum

Newark High School

Jimmy Meyers (WEEI Radio, Boston)

Keith Pinney (Research assistance)

The Sheridan Historical Society Museum

The Norway Store & The Borchsenius Family

James Podnar (Research assistance)

The National Sports Collector Convention (2005)

The Calico Café, Sheridan

The Chicago Cubs

Channel 9 (WGN-TV Chicago)

Robert E. Rowe Public Library, Sheridan, Illinois

Graves-Hume Public Library, Mendota, Illinois

Somonauk Public Library, Somonauk, Illinois

i David Craft, “Silas ‘Si’ Johnson: Pitcher, Coach, Fan,” Sports Collectors Digest, January 19, 1990, p. 210.

ii Mike Cunniff, “Area Native Played Ball with The Babe,” The Daily Times, June 9, 1992.

iii “Rookie With Good Record Is Signed For Tryout With Rock Island Club,” The Rock Island Argus, March 7, 1928, p. 7.

iv Bruce Nash and Allen Zullo, Baseball Hall of Shame (New York: Pocket Books, 1985), p. 15.

v Keith Ludolph, “Ex-Major Leaguer Remembers Pitching Career,” The Daily Times, August 18, 1979.

vi Mark Mandernach, “The Day the Bambino Bombed,” Sports Illustrated, June 14, 1993.

vii “Johnson and Nelson Join Toronto Team,” The Portsmouth Times, May 16, 1936.

viii “Si Johnson Sittin’ Tight,” The Pittsburgh Press, May 28, 1938, p. 6.

ix “Si Johnson in Draft,” The Milwaukee Journal, July 20, 1943.

x “Johnson Improves,” The News-Dispatch, April 18, 1944.

xi Mike Cunniff, “Area Native Played Ball with The Babe,” The Daily Times, June 9, 1992.

xii “Street Named After Si Johnson,” The Daily Times, July 7, 1992.

A Fall Classic Comedy, Game Six, 1945

John Rosengren

Through five games of the 1945 World Series, the Detroit Tigers held a three games to two lead over the Chicago Cubs. This Fall Classic was, as Baseball Magazine’s Clifford Bloodgood called it, “A comedy of errors—loosely played but good entertainment.” The comedy continued in Game Six, played at Wrigley Field, though not everyone would find humor in the errors.

A year previously, Captain Hank Greenberg of the U.S. Army had been stationed in India, listening to the Series on the radio and figuring he would never play in another one himself. His first three had not been fully satisfying. In 1934, despite putting up decent numbers, he had been criticized for failing to come through in the clutch when the Tigers lost to the Cardinals; Dizzy Dean had mocked him with three strikeouts in Game Seven. The next year, he had injured his wrist and been forced to the sidelines of the team’s victory. In 1940, his last full season, he had endured another disappointing seven-game defeat, this time at the hands of Cincinnati.

Now, the Tigers’ left fielder had another chance—not only to play, but also to set right his World Series record. It would be his last chance.

In the bottom of the sixth inning of Game Six, Greenberg chased Mickey Livingston’s pop-up blowing back toward the infield. He managed to get his glove on it, but couldn’t make the catch. The ball fell for a double (the official scorers charitably awarded Livingston a hit), and Livingston later scored to put the Cubs up 5–1.

In the seventh, Greenberg scored, as did teammate Doc Cramer, to trim the Cubs’ lead to 5–3. The score would have been 5–4 if not for the “Hostetler Flop.” Chuck Hostetler, the Tigers’s fastest runner despite being 42 years old, had rounded third on Cramer’s single, hell-bent on home, when his toe caught the turf. He stumbled, lurched forward several strides windmilling his arms, then belly-flopped into no man’s land. Instead of scoring, he was tagged out.

The Cubs increased their lead by two in the bottom half of the seventh, but the Tigers rallied again in the eighth, pulling within a run at 7–6. The day before, Hank Greenberg had pledged to homer in Game Six. Now he faced the gray-haired lefthander Ray Prim with two outs and nobody on. Greenberg worked the count to 3-2 then clubbed the ball. Despite a strong wind blowing in, Greenberg’s clout soared over the left-field ivy and tied the game. The Tiger players jumped to their feet, cheered and danced spontaneously. “That’s it!” Tiger manager Steve O’Neill yelled from the third base coach’s box. “That’s the payoff.” They were certain victory and the championship was theirs.

That is, until Hank Borowy came on in relief and closed the door. With the score tied 7–7, the game headed into extra innings. In the bottom of the twelfth, with shadows cramping visibility, Chicago’s Stan Hack batted with pinch-runner Bill Schuster on first and two outs. Hack smacked a routine single to left. Greenberg moved in to field it, wanting to nip the runner at third to finish off the Cubs. He dropped to his right knee to play the bounce, but the ball struck a sprinkler head and hopped over his left shoulder. Greenberg wheeled and chased the ball to the wall, but Schuster scored standing up. The three official scorers, led by Harry Salsinger of the Detroit News, held Greenberg responsible for the loss: E-7.

While the Wrigley Field crowd whooped and hollered, Greenberg made the long, lonely walk from left field to the Tigers clubhouse entrance on the first-base side with his head down, growing angrier by the step. Instead of celebrating a World Series victory—once again the Tigers had squandered a three-two series lead—he lamented an extra-inning loss pinned on him, the bum. He stomped into the clubhouse, where his teammates gave him a wide berth. When a reporter asked, “What happened to you on that play, Hank?” Greenberg snapped, “What happened to me ? What happened to you ?! Did you see the game?”

Always sensitive to criticism about his limitations in the field, Greenberg was incensed that the scorers had charged him with an error on a ball he didn’t think he had a legitimate chance to field. It had bounced over his shoulder! He never touched it. Still, he was down on himself that he had let it get by.

Greenberg’s teammates agreed that he had been unfairly accused of misplaying the ball. “How in the hell could anyone give an error on such a play?” O’Neill demanded.

The second-guessing extended beyond the Tigers clubhouse. Members of the press argued over the call back at the Palmer House, their Chicago headquarters for the Series. Some of them finally wore down Salsinger and the other two scorers, who reversed their decision—the first time that had ever happened in the World Series—and awarded Hack a double and an RBI. Greenberg was off the hook but not pleased. He had hit his second home run of the Series, as predicted, but that no longer mattered. The Tigers had lost. The scorers wouldn’t change that fact.

Greenberg wouldn’t have to mope for long. Two days later, with Greenberg drawing two walks and adding a sacrifice fly and sacrifice bunt, the Tigers won Game Seven 9–3 and were once again World Champions.

Excerpted from Hank Greenberg: The Hero of Heroes by John Rosengren.

Bears, Cubs, and a Moose, Oh My

Joseph Wancho

The telegram was brash and a bit disrespectful. Simply stated, it read “DEAR MOOSE: TOLD YOU SO. JOE PEP”. [i]

The New York Yankees needed pitching help—specifically a boost to their rotation—following the 1962 season. They set their sights on Stan Williams, a right-handed twirler for the Los Angeles Dodgers who had won 14, 15, and 14 games the previous three seasons. “You have to give up something to get something,” runs the old adage, and the Yankees shipped their veteran first baseman, Bill Skowron, to Los Angeles for Williams on November 26, 1962.

Skowron had been a formidable force in the Yankee lineup, batting behind Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris. But the Yankees were high on their young first baseman, Joe Pepitone, who—although just a bench player in his rookie year of 1962—took every opportunity to tell Skowron how he was going to take the nine–year veteran’s place. Hence the telegram.

“ There are indications that Joe will hit,” said Yankees manager Ralph Houk. “He already has demonstrated his superior skills in the field. I have noted Williams, his style, his potential, and his spirit. I don’t believe we will rue the deal. And I don’t have to remind you that I am a Skowron booster. I certainly hated to see him go. But it just had to be done.” ii

Houk’s words seemed prophetic as Pepitone slugged 27 home runs, drove in 89 runs, and batted .271 in 1963. His numbers were close to the level of those of his predecessor in 1962. Skowron, meanwhile, slumped in Los Angeles, hitting a career-low .202.

As fate would have it, each team won their respective leagues and met in the World Series. Skowron was a veteran of these fall classic matchups, having appeared in seven previous series with New York. It was during these October autumn days that Skowron seemed to really shine. During his post-season career, Moose totaled seven home runs and 26 RBI and batted .283. “I just want to do a little something to help this team,” said Skowron. “Everyone has been great to me. I’ve been awful.” iii

In spite of his subpar regular season, Dodger manager Walter Alston inserted Skowron at first base. Ron Fairly, who manned first base for much of the regular season, played some right field and pinch-hit. The switch worked as Skowron hit .385 with a homer. “Well, it’s October and you always get hot now,” iv former teammate Bobby Richardson told him during a game. His Dodger teammates celebrated Skowron’s series with a chorus of the familiar Walt Disney refrain: “Mickey Moose, Mickey Moose, M-i-c-k-e-y M-o-o-s-e, Moose, Moose.”

The 1963 series was, in a way, a national coming-out party for Dodgers lefty Sandy Koufax, who led L.A.’s four-game sweep with a 2-0 record and a 1.50 ERA. He struck out 23 Yankee hitters.

Skowron was mighty pleased with the results. “Hell, I wanted to come back and beat the club that traded me,” said Skowron. “I didn’t expect to play in this thing until I read the newspaper lineup. I know I’ve been a donkey. But this tastes awful sweet.” [v]

William Joseph Skowron was born December 18, 1930, in Chicago, Illinois. He was one of three children (including brother Edward and sister Jean) born to William and Helen Skowron. The Skowron clan lived in the northwest part of the city. “You’d have to say that we lived in a poor section,” recalls Skowron. “We didn’t have much of anything when I was a kid. My father worked for the Sanitation Department and my mother had to work too.” vi Helen Skowron was employed at Zenith Radio.

William Sr. played on a semi-pro baseball team, the Cragin Merchants. Young Bill played on the Cragin Juniors. His father’s teammates thought that Bill’s crew cut (given by his grandfather) made him look like Benito Mussolini, the Prime Minister of Italy. He was soon given the nickname Mussolini, later shortened to “Moose.”

He earned a scholarship to Weber High School, an all-boys Catholic school named for Archbishop Joseph Weber. For a short time Bill entertained the idea of becoming a priest. “As a kid I served Mass a lot and I liked to help out at the church,” says Skowron. “I got to know the priests real well and I liked them a lot. My mother and grandmother wanted me to be a priest and I thought it might be a good idea.” vii

Bill Skowron was an excellent all-around athlete, excelling in football and basketball (Weber did not offer baseball as an extracurricular activity). Even as a child, Skowron had a burly build, and he gained 80 pounds in high school. He soon realized his talent as a player and the thought of entering the priesthood faded.

After graduation, he accepted a scholarship to Purdue University. Although he had played baseball in recreation leagues around Chicago, only in college did he begin to play regularly. His freshman baseball and football coach was the legendary Hall of Fame football coach Hank Stram. Skowron made varsity in football, basketball, and baseball his sophomore year. He was a blocking back and punter for the Boilermakers’ gridiron team.

In 1950, Joe McDermott, a scout for the New York Yankees, spotted Skowron playing semi-pro ball in southern Minnesota. McDermott invited Skowron to a workout at Comiskey Park the next time the Yanks were in town.

Skowron showed off his strength at Comiskey. “I took five cuts and put a couple into the second deck. I guess maybe that’s why they signed me.” viii New York manager Casey Stengel was impressed with the young man and told Moose that if he signed with the Yankees, Stengel would have him in the big leagues in three years. Four days before he was to report to Purdue for football practice, Skowron’s father accepted the Yankees’ offer of a $22,000 bonus. (Moose, as a minor, needed his parents’ assent.)

Purdue football coach Stu Holcomb—later an executive for the Chicago White Sox—accused the Yankees of “thievery” as Skowron headed to winter league baseball in Puerto Rico, rather than return to West Lafayette. Although he had a bright future in major league baseball, Skowron later said he always regretted not getting his degree.

Skowron had been a third baseman as an amateur, but after 21 games at Binghamton of the single-A Eastern League in 1951, Moose was demoted to Class B Norfolk of the Piedmont League to learn the outfield. He certainly aced the hitting part of the job—batting a league-best .334 with 18 homers and 76 RBIs to capture MVP honors—but his manager, Mayo Smith, was worried that Bill’s reactions in left field were too slow and that he had a weak arm.

Despite these concerns, Skowron was promoted for 1952 to the Yankees’ top farm team, the triple-A Kansas City Blues. Skowron showed that his first pro season was no fluke, as he hit .341 for Kansas City and led the American Association with 31 home runs and 134 RBIs. That fall, the Sporting News named him Minor League Player of the Year.

When Skowron reported to camp the next season, Stengel decided the youngster’s ideal position was first base. He sent Moose back to Kansas City to work on his fielding with onetime big-league first baseman Johnny Neun, who especially focused on teaching Skowron proper footwork. “Ground balls didn’t give me much trouble, because of my experience at third,” said Skowron. “But I had trouble shifting my feet and also with foul flies. Johnny spent hours showing me how to move around and after a while, I began to feel at home at first base. Then they drilled me on pops. By the end of the season, I felt better playing first than third.” ix

Skowron also took dancing lessons at Arthur Murray Studio to improve his footwork. Casey’s three-year promise to Skowron was on the verge of becoming a reality. Skowron at last made the big leagues in 1954, starting 56 games at first base. Stengel often used a platoon system to maximize his players’ talents, and first base was no exception. Left-handed hitters Joe Collins and Eddie Robinson were used against right-handed pitchers, with Collins getting most of the starts. Still, the right-handed hitting Skowron showed plenty of moxie, hitting .340 and driving in 41 runs.

The 1954 season was certainly an anomaly for Skowron and his teammates as the Yankees failed to win the pennant. They were back on top the following four seasons, though. Each World Series in that span went the distance as New York split with both Brooklyn and Milwaukee.

Bill Skowron, the eager young Yankees first sacker. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

After falling to Milwaukee in the 1957 fall classic, the Yankees trailed the Braves the following year three games to one but fought off elimination to win. Skowron played a key role in both the sixth and seventh games, played at County Stadium.

In Game Six, the score was tied at two at the end of nine innings. In the top of the tenth, Gil McDougald homered to give the Yankees the lead. With two outs, consecutive singles by Elston Howard, Yogi Berra, and Skowron pushed the lead to 4 – 2. As it turned out, Skowron’s single to scored Howard was key; the Braves scored one run in their half of the tenth inning before succumbing.

In Game Seven, with the scored knotted 2 – 2, the Yankees scored four runs in the top of the eighth to put the game out of reach. The big blast was Skowron’s three-run homer off Lew Burdette. “It was a lousy pitch that I gave Bill Skowron,” said Burdette. “It was a slider—the same thing he had looked bad on before—but this one I got in too high.” [x]

The 5’11’’ Skowron had already become legendary for his physique. “His muscles had muscles,” a familiar saying, was often applied to Moose. It seemed, though, that those muscles were susceptible to tearing. He missed a lot of playing time due to injuries, never playing in more than 134 games through his first five campaigns. “He seems to like the clang of the ambulance,” quipped Stengel. xi

Moose did have a flair for the dramatic. On April 22, 1959, his solo home run in the top of the fourteenth inning delivered a 1 – 0 victory over the Senators at Griffith Stadium. At the time, it was believed to be the longest 1 – 0 game in major league history. Whitey Ford pitched all fourteen frames for the win, striking out 15 Nats.

That July 25 in Detroit, Skowron entered the game in the ninth inning as a pinch-hitter. He remained in the game at first base but while reaching for a throw from third baseman Hector Lopez, Skowron collided with Coot Veal of the Tigers. The result was a fractured wrist and an end to his season. That fall, the White Sox and their go-go style of baseball put an end to the Yankees’ four-year pennant streak.

“ When I reported to the Mayo Clinic for a recent check-up,” said Skowron, “the doctors explained to me that I was susceptible to injury because my muscles lacked elasticity. They won’t stretch as they do with the average athlete and that is why I’ve been suffering repeatedly from muscle tears in my legs and back. They recommended swimming as a means towards loosening my muscles and making them more pliable.” xii The strategy seemed to work, as Skowron averaged 25 home runs, 85 RBIs, and a .282 average from 1960 – 1962. He played in 140 or more games each season during this period.

Skowron hit .375 in the 1960 World Series against Pittsburgh with two home runs and six RBIs. One of those homers was in the fifth inning of the deciding Game Seven at Forbes Field, a classic game won the Pirates on Bill Mazeroski’s home run. The Sporting News named Skowron first baseman on its Major League All Star Team in 1960.

Behind Maris’ and Mantle’s pursuits of Babe Ruth’s home run record in 1961, the Yankees cruised to the pennant. The three M’s (Mantle, Maris, and Moose) set a record for home runs by a threesome in a season (143). The Yankees bested Cincinnati in the World Series in five games, with Skowron adding a homer and five RBIs. They made it two straight world championships in 1962 after a hard-fought seven game series with San Francisco.

After yet another World Series win with the Dodgers in 1963, Moose thought he had a fair shot at staying out west. But the front office felt otherwise, selling him to the Washington Senators for a reported $25,000. Skowron was happy to be back in the junior circuit. “You can count on me to play good ball for you,” Moose promised the front office. “Throw out what happened to me last season. The National League pitching was too new to me.” xiii

Skowron may have been on to something. He was batting .271 with 13 homers (three in one doubleheader against Boston on May 10) and 41 RBIs when Washington traded him, with pitcher Carl Bouldin, to the White Sox for outfielder Joe Cunningham and pitcher Frank Kreutzer on July 13, 1964. Chicago was in the midst of a pennant race and manager Al Lopez compared the acquisition of Skowron to that of Ted Kluszewski in 1959. “Skowron should give us a big lift,” said the Sox skipper. “I remember in 1959 when we got Ted Kluszewski from the Pirates. It picked the whole club up and we won a pennant.” xiv

Bill Skowron was coming home and he enjoyed hitting at Comiskey Park. Although Moose did not supply the power that Lopez may have been counting on, he still drove in 38 runs and hit .283 in 70 starts at first base. On September 15, Chicago trailed Baltimore by one game and was a half-game up on New York. The White Sox closed the season winning 12 of their final 15 games, including their final nine in a row. But the Yankees were even better, winning 15 of 19 in the same period (the Yankees had four doubleheaders) to nip the Sox by a single game.

Skowron was leading the team in homers (11) and RBIs (39) when he was named to represent the White Sox in the 1965 All-Star Game. Moose was no stranger to the midsummer classic, having been on the A.L. squad each year from 1957 through 1961. But at age 34, this trip was extra rewarding. “To be named to the All- Star team at this time in my career is what makes it so overwhelming to me,” said Skowron. “You know, I wanted to make it so badly this year that I would have been delighted if I had been picked just as a pinch-hitter.” xv

"The Moose," shown later in his career with the White Sox. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

Chicago General Manager Ed Short was impressed with his veteran first baseman. “You know, many of these players, especially the veterans, would just as soon not make the All-Star Team,” said Short. “They’d rather have the three days off. But here is a guy who has been around a long time and you might expect him to be a bit jaded. But he feels distinctly honored. He has real pride in his profession and pride in his performance. It’s too bad there are not more fellows like him.” xvi

In 1966 Skowron split time at first base with young Tommy McCraw, a left-handed batter. It appeared as if Skowron’s career had come full circle, as he was back to being a platoon player. His production was decreasing, and in 1967 he was dealt to the Los Angeles Angels for utility player Cotton Nash. Following the season, Skowron retired from the major leagues. Over a 14-year career, Moose compiled a career batting average of .282, belted 211 home runs and 243 doubles, and knocked in 888 runs. He hit over .300 five times in his career and played for eight pennant-winning teams, five of which won the World Series.

Skowron and his first wife, Virginia, had two sons Greg and Steve. Skowron also had a daughter, Lynette, with his second wife, Lorraine. After retiring from baseball, Skowron worked in many professions, mostly promotional and sales positions. He was a fan favorite at fantasy camps and attended many card shows. From 1999 through 2012, he worked as a community affairs representative for the Chicago White Sox.

Bill “Moose” Skowron passed away on April 27, 2012, in Arlington Heights, Illinois. The cause of his death was congestive heart failure, although he had been fighting lung cancer for a few years.

“ When I think of Moose, I remember him and Bob Cerv before games,” says Yankee teammate Johnny Blanchard. “The two of them would face each other. They would lock their hands behind each other’s necks. Then it would begin, the banging of heads. They’d do it for fun, but they wouldn’t stop until there were tears running down from their own eyes. I know Moose and Cerv would have fun doing it, but there’s nothing more horrible than hearing two skulls bang together.” xvii

Yankee hurler Bob Turley also remembers a fun, gregarious person. “He is this big kid who always enjoys things. He loves to go to banquets and pick up a couple hundred dollars as a speaker. He talks ninety miles a minute and people instantly like him. He also works for the state of Illinois, teaching bicycle safety in the schools. How can you not love a guy who relishes showing little kids how to ride a bike?” xviii

i William J. Ryczek , The Yankees in the Early 1960’s, McFarland and Co, Jefferson, N.C., 2008, p. 5.

ii

Sporting News, March 30, 1963, 30.

iii

Sporting News, October 19, 1963, 3.

iv

The Evening Bulletin, October 3, 1963, 44.

v

Ibid.

vi

Players File, Baseball Hall of Fame.

vii

Ibid.

viii

Ibid.

ix

Ibid.

x

New York Times, October 10, 1958, 38.

xi

Ryczek, 25.

xii

New York Times, January 26, 1960, 38.

xiii

Sporting News, December 28, 1963, 17.

xiv

Chicago Daily News, July 14, 1964.

xv

Sporting News, July 17, 1965, 31.

xvi

Ibid.

xvii

Tony Kubek and Terry Pluto, Sixty-One: The Team, The Record, The Men, MacMillan Publishing, New York, NY, 1987, p. 202.

18 Ibid.

xviii

Dean of Chicanery: Jerry Reinsdorf’s Plan to Enlist Hank Greenberg to Umpire the Northwestern Law School Student-Faculty Game and How it Backfired

John Rosengren

Jerry Reinsdorf has always wanted to win, both now and then. When the task of organizing the annual faculty-student softball game at Northwestern University School of Law fell upon Reinsdorf, then the law review’s managing editor, the 24-year-old senior wanted to give his side a legitimate shot at victory.

Tradition dictated the umpire would be Virgil Peterson, then chairman of the Chicago Crime Commission and a man turned perennially crooked on behalf of the faculty, but that year, 1960, luck seemed to tilt in the students’ favor: Peterson would be out of town. That gave Reinsdorf the opportunity to find a neutral replacement.

Reinsdorf drove his jalopy to the White Sox offices at 35th and Shields, site of the original Comiskey Park, with a plan to line up an impartial celebrity ump. Outside the park, he spotted his quarry, team owner Bill Veeck, walking down the sidewalk. Reinsdorf pulled to the curb and petitioned Veeck. It was the kind of stunt the owner noted for his Barnum & Bailey marketing gimmicks might have approved. But he said no.

“ Why don’t you ask Hank Greenberg?” Veeck suggested. Typical for him to stick his co-owner with his unwanted tasks. Veeck had left it to Greenberg to deal with Chuck Comiskey (namesake of the man who brought the White Sox to town) who refused to cooperate with the new owners after they bought his sister’s majority share.

So Reinsdorf parked his car, traipsed into the White Sox offices and tracked down Greenberg, the team’s vice president and treasurer, fibbing, just a little, that Veeck had said he should ump the law school’s annual softball game. Greenberg agreed.

Reinsdorf’s ambition didn’t rest with bagging the former Hall of Fame player as an umpire. He sent a letter to Ford Frick and asked the MLB commissioner to put it on his official letterhead. The letter said that Frick, as commissioner of all organized and unorganized baseball, had become aware of the travesty at Northwestern’s School of Law and had appointed Hank Greenberg umpire to put an end to the chicanery. Frick went along with it. “For some reason he trusted me,” Reinsdorf laughs years later.

Reinsdorf sent Frick’s declaration to the Chicago newspapers and television stations, who picked up the story. Chicago’s American even printed the commissioner’s letter on the front page. There was no way for Greenberg to back out now. “I can’t believe I had the balls to do this at 24,” Reinsdorf says.

Greenberg good-naturedly carried out his duties in the game, which was played in the downtown park across Lake Shore Drive from the law school. He addressed every batter by name their first time up. When Reinsdorf took his turn, Greenberg called the first two pitches, which were well outside, strikes. After the second called strike, the young law review managing editor turned around to look at the ump. “You’re not going to get any balls,” Greenberg said calmly. “You better swing.”

Reinsdorf ended up with a double and triple that day. The student nine was ahead, looking like it had the chance to notch its first victory over the faculty in years, when the plot thickened. The faculty called time out and appointed Greenberg honorary dean for the day, a move that made him a de facto member of its side…and sent the man with the .313 career batting average, 331 home runs, and 1,276 RBIs to bat.

Reinsdorf, who had anticipated the faculty would pull some such underhanded stunt, countered. He summoned a young woman to pitch and surreptitiuosly slipped her a ball packed with cotton. He figured Greenberg would not be able to give the truly soft ball much of a ride. But on the first pitch, the former Tiger slugger literally knocked the stuffing out of the ball, which landed foul, so the girl had to deliver her next offering with a regulation 16” softball. Greenberg drove that pitch “as far as you could and still stay in the park,” Reinsdorf says. “We had a guy stationed in the outfield about 800 miles away who caught it.”

The next time up with runners on base and the students clinging to a one-run lead, Greenberg slashed a drive that the shortstop tried—unsuccessfully—to field. “It nearly took his hand off,” Reinsdorf says.

Greenberg’s hit drove in two runs that put the faculty ahead. The law school’s permanent dean promptly declared the game over, preserving the faculty’s winning streak. “Cheaters,” Reinsdorf says. “I thought for sure we were going to beat them.”

Reinsdorf didn’t see Greenberg again until an old-timers game at Comiskey Park the day prior to the 1983 All-Star Game. By then the owner of the White Sox himself, Reinsdorf ran into Greenberg in the dugout. Twenty-three years later, the ump who had produced the game-winning hit still remembered the softball tilt. That pleased Reinsdorf, who was finally able to accept the loss.

Source: Jerry Reinsdorf, interviewed by the author November 8, 2010.

“Don’t Tell Them any Different”: ‘Don Kessinger Night’ Caps a Long Career

Mark Randall

On September 8, 1978, Northside and Southside fans finally found something they could agree on: Don Kessinger.[i] Fans from Chicago’s two storied baseball teams came together to cheer the veteran infielder at Comiskey Park on a special promotion night arranged by Sox owner Bill Veeck to salute Kessinger, one of the lucky few to have played for both the Cubs and White Sox. The game drew 30,270 fans, and as the Sporting News noted, “a large segment of the crowd consisted of Cubs fans in honor of his eleven years with the Cubs.”ii

Though best known as a smooth-fielding All-Star shortstop for the Cubs of the 1960s and early 1970s, Kessinger also had a “brief but interesting stay on the South side.”iii After a brief exile to St. Louis, Kessinger was traded to the White Sox on August 20, 1977, to shore up a leaky infield.

The Kessinger Night promotion couldn’t have been timed better. The Sox were returning home from a short trip having won three of four games, and Kessinger had “played a major role in most of them.”iv At one stretch of the season, he went 11-for-21 and had raised his batting average to around .270. Kessinger was surprised when Veeck told him what he was planning to do—he never thought of himself as the type of player who deserved a day. “Boy that was a special treat that night,” Kessinger reflected. “It’s just one of those things that is an unreal experience. I was totally shocked when Bill Veeck said that is what he wanted to do. I was just thrilled to death. I was just happy to be there and be playing and enjoying what I do.”[v] The veteran admitted that he hadn’t felt as nervous since being a rookie in 1964.

He was joined on this special night by his wife, Carolyn, and two sons, Keith and Kevin, who had flown in from their Memphis home. Kessinger looked on as master of ceremony Harry Caray trotted out ex-Cubs teammates and other dignitaries. Kessinger enjoyed the banter, at one point joking with former teammate Ernie Banks, “Ernie, they wouldn’t be having this night for me if you hadn’t dug my throws out of the dirt all those years. Come to think of it, I’d probably be in the Hall of Fame if you picked them all up.”vi Kessinger and his family received everything from two ponies for their Memphis acreage to a round-trip flight to Hawaii courtesy of United Airlines.

“It was too much to put into words,” Kessinger said that night. “I’ve gotten nothing but kindness and respect here for all those years. I’ve got to try and give it back to such wonderful fans.”vii The Sox won the game 3–2 over the Seattle Mariners, and although Kessinger went hitless, “he handled seven chances, two brilliantly.”viii

Chicago fans had good reason to cheer him. Kessinger played with grace and consistency during his years with the Cubs and White Sox. From 1965 through 1969, Kessinger joined with Glenn Beckert, Ron Santo, and Ernie Banks to make up one of the most famous infields in baseball history. “They called that the Million Dollar Infield in Chicago,” said Kessinger. “Glenn Beckert used to tell me, ‘yeah, but $900,000 is on the corners.’ They were unbelievable. They were not only great players, they were great friends and teammates. It was a wonderful thing. And we got to do something that doesn’t happen much these days. There wasn’t free agency then. So we stayed together for a long time.”

“Defense and durability,” writes Al Yellon of the fan website Bleed Cubbie Blue, “is what Don Kessinger brought to the Cubs for eleven years as the starting shortstop. Fans remember Kessinger going far to his right, gloving the ball, and then in one graceful motion, reverse in the air as he whipped the ball to first base to retire the batter.”ix

Children who watched Kessinger on television widely copied his “boarding-house reach” on play grounds and in Little League. Cubs pitcher Ferguson Jenkins told Caray, then the Cardinals’ radio voice, in a pregame interview on July 4, 1969, “In the past five games he’s made many great plays to his right. Don has this play down pat.”

Kessinger initially struggled in his first exposure to the big leagues, hitting only .201 and committing a league-leading 28 errors in his rookie year of 1965. Including a Father’s Day doubleheader against the Reds in Cincinnati, Kessinger had started eleven games at shortstop and had already committed nine errors. Despite his throwing miscues, however, Kessinger showed promise with his excellent range, and Cubs manager Lou Klein stuck with him. “That doesn’t worry me,” Klein told reporters. “This boy can play shortstop. That much I know.”[x]

Reds second baseman Pete Rose gave him some advice. “Pete kept telling me, ‘Relax, relax. Don’t worry. Just throw the ball,’” Kessinger told reporters. “Everybody has been trying to get me to relax. Glenn (Beckert) hollers at me a lot during the games and yells, ‘You okay?’ Then he laughs and smiles and says, ‘Everything alright with you?’”xi Klein told Kessinger the same thing. “If you’re going to throw it away, throw it away good. Don’t be afraid to let loose.”xii Coaches and even sportswriters remained convinced Kessinger would be a star. “There doesn’t seem to be any question that he will be one of baseball’s best shortstops in the near future,” Jerome Holtzman of The Sporting News wrote. Manager Klein agreed. “Put him down in your book,” Klein said. “This boy will make it. And he’ll make it big.”xiii

Teammate Ron Santo also had confidence in the rookie. “When Kessinger first came up, he made a lot of mistakes,” Santo told reporters going in to the 1966 season. “But after all, he was young, green, and scared.”xiv He noted that after being around just a month in the league, Kessinger was already making some fantastic plays. “He has as good an arm as any shortstop in the league and he can make that play in the hole,” Santo said. “There are still a few things that need polishing in his pivot work at second, but he and Beckert were clicking pretty well before the season was over.”xv

Kessinger continued to improve his fielding and in 1968 was recognized as one of the National League’s top shortstops when he was voted to start at shortstop in the year’s All-Star game. “I hadn’t been in the league long,” Kessinger recalled. “The All-Star game was in Houston. I’ll never forget walking into the old Astrodome. I walked into the locker room and looked around at Hank Aaron and Willie Mays and Roberto Clemente and Bob Gibson. You think, ‘what am I doing here?’ But I was thrilled to death. I told my wife before the game I hope I do well. I don’t want to make an error. I know I am here because I am supposed to be able to play defense. I’d love to get a hit. But I don’t want to make an error.”xvi The midsummer classic was played on July 9, 1968. Kessinger was 0-for-2, but the NL won the game, 1–0.

Kessinger remained a cornerstone of the Cubs infield and repeated as an All-Star each year through 1972 and made the squad again in 1974. “I played in six All-Star games of which we won five,” Kessinger said. “The one we lost (in Detroit) is remembered for the colossal home run Reggie Jackson hit there.”xvii

In 1969, Kessinger set a major league fielding record for shortstops on June 15 against the Cincinnati Reds when he played his 54th straight errorless game, breaking the single-season record previously set by Chico Carrasquel in 1951. Kessinger’s streak was stopped when he recorded an error in the second game of that day’s doubleheader. “It was a little surprising to me that I went that long without making an error,” Kessinger reflected. “When I finally did make an error, it was a routine ground ball in Cincinnati hit right at me that went right through my legs. You wonder, ‘what did I do different?’”xviii

Kessinger led NL shortstops three times in putouts, four times in assists, four times in double plays, and once in fielding percentage. He won Gold Gloves in 1969 and 1970. “I always used to pride myself on being the guy who led the league in assists,” Kessinger said. “I always felt like the balls I could get to would help my team.”xix

Don Kessinger in the early 1970s. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

While not known for his offense, Kessinger eventually became a reliable hitter. After his struggles at the plate in 1965, Kessinger decided to try switch-hitting. The 24-year-old reported to the Cubs’ 1966 early-bird spring training camp in Escondido hoping to learn to hit lefty. Lou Klein, who was running the camp, discouraged him. “When I told him I’d like to try switching, Lou said, ‘Look, let’s work with what we’ve got,’” Kessinger said.xx Kessinger spent the spring trying to improve right-handed, but despite Klein’s rebuff, continued to take swings in the batting cage from the left side. New Cubs manager Leo Durocher liked the idea and encouraged it. In mid-May, Durocher was discussing Kessinger with Cubs VP of player personnel John Holland, who told the manager of Kessinger’s interest in switch-hitting. “I said, ‘John, that’s great,’” Durocher recalled. “’We know one thing. This boy isn’t going to hit much right-handed. Let’s try him.’”xxi

A few days later, on May 19 with the Cubs leading Houston 7–0, Durocher told Kessinger to hit from the left side his next trip to the plate. Kessinger hit a line drive to center off Houston right-hander Gary Kroll, and in his next at-bat—also as a lefty—against Don Lee, lined to shortstop. The Sporting News noted that “from the looks of things now, this move could change him from an ordinary ball player into one with possibilities.”xxii Durocher concurred. “He’s going to be a good one, all right,” then corrected himself. “He’s a good one right now.”xxiii

Kessinger said it wasn’t difficult learning to swing from the left side because he had been a basketball player at the University of Mississippi and always had a strong left hand. With the help of coach Pete Reiser, his hitting improved from .228 in the first half of the season to .309 during the second half as he finished at .274. “I felt I had to do this to survive and remain in the big leagues,” Kessinger reflected. “In retrospect, it was the right decision.”xxiv

His best all-around season came in 1969 when he hit .273 with career highs in home runs, hits, runs, doubles, and RBIs. On June 17, 1971, Kessinger had his best day ever at the plate when he went 6-for-6 against the Cardinals, becoming the 62nd player in league history to get six hits in one game. He remains one of the last Cubs players to achieve the feat. “It was a week’s work in one day,” said manager Leo Durocher.xxv Kessinger led the Cubs to a 7–6 10-inning victory over the Cardinals with five singles and a double, scoring three runs and knocking in one. “It’s just one of those once-in-a-lifetime things,” Kessinger told reporters.xxvi “And I’m glad it wasn’t wasted because we won the game.” Teammate Joe Pepitone, who had helped propel the Cubs with his bat to three wins in the last week, joked, “I’m glad you guys finally helped out. I can’t keep doing it all every day.” Kessinger added, “You just have to be lucky to have a day like this. I was just swinging the bat and the hits just kept falling in.”

Kessinger got four of those hits against Steve Carlton and remembers not wanting to play that day. “When I left home that morning to come to the ball park I said to my wife Carolyn that I wished it would rain us out. In fact, I’d like to have a day off just to rest a little,” Kessinger reflected. “I told her Steve Carlton was pitching. He was a great pitcher. You don’t usually have a lot of luck against a great pitcher like Steve… I just went to the park and my first four at-bats I had line drive base hits off Steve. It’s another one of those things that’s not supposed to happen to a guy like me.”xxvii

From 1967 through 1972, the Cubs fielded one of the best teams in baseball. In addition to that famous infield, the team also had standouts Randy Hundley at catcher, future Hall of Famer Billy Williams in left field, and a stellar starting trio of Ferguson Jenkins (also a future Hall-of-Famer), Bill Hands, and Ken Holtzman. “They worked hard and cared about playing,” Kessinger said. “Billy Williams is the best hitter I ever played with. He had such a sweet swing. He could just hit. And Fergie was just a model of consistency. If he told you he was going to pitch a guy a certain way … that’s what he did. He had the ability to do it. We just had a good ballclub.”xxviii

But despite a record of 515 wins and 449 losses over that six-year span, the Cubs never won a pennant or even made it to the post-season. The Cubs finished second three times (1969, 1970, and 1972) and third three times (1967, 1968, and 1971).

Don Kessinger will go to his grave believing that the Cubs had a better team in 1969 than the eventual NL East champion New York Mets. Many sports historians have called the 1969 Cubs team the greatest second-place team of all time. The season started with high hopes for the Cubs but ended in one of the most monumental collapses in Chicago baseball history. From Opening Day on, the Cubs held first place for 155 days, but a late-season 8–18 swoon and a concurrent Mets surge reversed the course. The Cubs led the Mets by 9½ games on August 14 but ended the season in second place, eight games out.

So what caused the collapse? Was it bad luck? A black cat appeared on the field during a 7–1 loss to the Mets on September 9 that reduced the Cubs lead to half a game. Or was the team just worn down? Sportswriters of the time and historians have noted that the Cubs’ offense, fielding, and pitching all failed during that last crucial month. From August 1 through the end of the season the heart of the Cubs lineup slumped. Kessinger was batting .296 but hit only .223 the rest of the season. In Durocher’s Cubs: The Greatest Team That Didn’t Win, author David Claerbaut concludes that Durocher bears the brunt of the blame because he failed to adequately use his bench. He rode his veterans hard and created unnecessary tension by fighting with players, sportswriters, and even fans.

Looking back, Kessinger believes the race turned on a combination of factors and is quick to give the Mets their due credit. “Everybody has an opinion of what happened,” Kessinger said in a December 2014 interview. “But the main thing that happened was the Mets won, like, 38 games. Let’s don’t forget they earned it. The last month, nobody was better than them.”xxix He believes that playing all day games without much rest also took a toll on the Cubs. “I speak for me, but yes, I think down the stretch we were more tired than some of the other teams,” Kessinger continued. “I’m not criticizing Leo for not playing other players. I think when we reached for the little extra, it wasn’t there. And it did get tough because the Mets won every day. Daggum, we were looking at them and they won every day…not that we choked or folded. It appears that we did. But I will never remember it that way. For a period of three or four years we were as good as any team in baseball. And I will go to my grave believing we were the best team in baseball [in 1969]. And for a lot of days we proved it.”xxx

The Cubs would never be the same though after 1969. Over the next few years, Kessinger watched as ownership packed off the players from that famous team. Ernie Banks retired in 1971. Ken Holtzman went to Oakland in 1972. Ron Santo and Glenn Beckert were traded after the 1973 season to the White Sox and San Diego Padres. Pitcher Ferguson Jenkins also went in 1973 to Texas, and batting star Billy Williams was traded after the 1974 season to Oakland. Randy Hundley was traded to the Twins in 1973. And Jim Hickman went to the Cardinals in 1974. By then, Kessinger was the last remaining player from the 1969 team.

Then, in October 1975, after 11 seasons with the Cubs, Kessinger was traded to the Cardinals for pitcher Mike Garman and a player to be named. The move came as no surprise. “I knew halfway through that season that I was the last one remaining and they were making changes in the organization,” Kessinger reflected. “Jim Marshall had come in as the new manager. So I knew at the end of the year that I was likely not coming back.”xxxi

Kessinger had a somewhat down year for the Cubs in 1975. He batted .243 but also hit 26 doubles and 10 triples. As a ten-year veteran, Kessinger could have refused the trade, but instead was excited to be going to the Cardinals, a good team and the one he had rooted for as a kid. “Kind of ironic isn’t it?” Kessinger said. “I mean, 11 years a Cub. The Cardinals were our arch-enemies. Not that I minded. As a kid in Forest City [Arkansas] I grew up as a Cardinals fan. Let’s just say this was a good trade from a personal standpoint. You see, I wanted to go to a club that had a chance of winning.”xxxii

He also felt he still had a few more good years of baseball left. “I certainly haven’t lost any of my speed,” Kessinger said. “Far from it. I’ve still got the range at short. I can do more now to help a club than I ever could. I’m a better hitter now than I’ve ever been. And I’m a smarter ball player.”xxxiii

Cardinals general manager Bing Devine noted that Kessinger was still solid in the field, still possessed a good batting eye, and “has been especially durable. He misses few games annually, and never missed four in a row.”xxxiv Kessinger was sad to leave the Cubs and Chicago, but did so with no bitterness. “I have nothing but respect for the Cubs,” Kessinger said at the time of the trade. “I enjoyed my 11 years with them. I wish them nothing but the best for all concerned.”xxxv

Kessinger’s stay in St. Louis, though, proved short. The 33-year-old hit only .239 for the Cardinals and lost his starting job to Garry Templeton. In August 1977, Kessinger was traded to the White Sox for pitcher Steve Staniland. “The Cardinals brought up Garry Templeton at the end of the year,” Kessinger said. “He was their prospect of the future. And I knew it was going to be that way. I was going to be in a utility role. They had asked me to work with Garry. I wanted to play, but I was content to do that.”xxxvi

Kessinger was glad to return to Chicago. “I just talked to Bill Veeck and I can’t tell you how it feels to be returning to a place where you’re really wanted,” Kessinger said. “Returning to Chicago is returning to my baseball home.”xxxvii Kessinger’s wife was also glad to be returning to Chicago, albeit to the south side. “We sold our home in Northbrook when the Cubs traded us,” she said. “Now we have a permanent home in Memphis. But we’ll get to Chicago and find us quarters on the north shore. Oh goodness. We’re southsiders now, aren’t we?”xxxviii

The Sox had acquired Kessinger to shore up a leaky infield; everyday shortstop Alan Bannister had made 28 errors. Kessinger’s first game at Comiskey Park came August 22, 1977, against the Yankees. Manager Bob Lemon inserted him as a pinch-runner in the seventh inning. Kessinger admitted he was nervous about the reception he would get from the fans after having spent all those years with the Cubs, but he needn’t have worried. “One of the greatest days of my life was my first game in Comiskey,” Kessinger recalled. “I was sitting on the bench and Bob Lemon came down to see me and said if Lamar Johnson gets on base, you go and run for him. I’m not sure if I wanted Lamar to get a hit or not. My thing was, ‘are they going to hate me for being a Cub?’ But when I ran on that field they gave me a standing ovation. It was the most heartwarming feeling I ever had in baseball. When I was standing at second base with tears running down my face Bucky Dent, the shortstop for the Yankees, came up and said, ‘What have you done to these people?’ I said, ‘Man, I don’t know. But don’t tell them any different.’ I had no idea. But they certainly treated me with unbelievable respect.”xxxix

Kessinger played in 131 games for the White Sox in 1978 and was owner Bill Veeck’s surprise choice to manage the team in 1979. Veeck told the media that Kessinger had “outstanding leadership qualities and would be particularly suited to leading the young defensive club that the Sox will field next year. The youngsters confide in him. While he is a nice man, he’s also a very determined man with a desire to win in a nice, quiet, decent way.”xl Kessinger replaced Larry Doby, who had taken over after Bob Lemon was fired.

“It’s very difficult for me to replace Larry Doby,” Kessinger told the press. “It is difficult for me to take over from a good friend. I didn’t solicit the job. But I’m delighted at getting the job and also very happy for our new coaching staff because of my inexperience as manager.”xli Veeck had taken out some insurance by hiring Bobby Winkles, a highly successful coach at Arizona State University and former manager of the A’s, and Joe Sparks, who had been managing the Iowa farm team for the last two seasons, as coaches. “I’m more a Bob Lemon personality,” Kessinger said. “But I learned a lot from Leo (Durocher). He was tough to play for because he was tough to please.”

Kessinger recalled that he took the job reluctantly. His career was winding down and he was looking forward to spending more time with his family. “Bill Veeck called me in toward the end of the 1978 season and said ‘Have you ever thought about managing?’ I said, ‘Yeah, Bill. I don’t think I want to. My kids are living back in Memphis. I think when I am through I’m going to watch my kids grow up because I am missing too much of what they are doing. He said, ‘Well, I’m talking about the White Sox.’”xlii Kessinger told Veeck he would think about it and to talk to him about it again once the season was done. “After the season was over he called me and said ‘we don’t have a manager. I want to talk to you,’” Kessinger said. “So I did—reluctantly. But the challenge was there. And I just can’t not do it. So I did.”xliii

Kessinger became the last playing manager, to date, in American League history. And he saw his share of strange events. He was managing the Sox on July 12, 1979, the date of the infamous “Disco Demolition Night.” The idea was to demolish a pile of disco records in a symbolic cooling down of disco fever. Fans bringing in a disco record got into the game for 98 cents.

During a break between games of the night’s doubleheader with the Detroit Tigers, Steve Dahl, a disc jockey with Chicago’s WLUP-FM, whipped the crowd into a frenzy during a ceremony that ended with him blowing up a crate of disco records in center field. Thousands of fans surged onto the field and “what began as a fun tongue-in-cheek event quickly became ugly.”xliv Riot police were called in and made arrests but “were hard put to control the mob which shouted obscenities and tore the park up.”xlv Police Lt. Robert Reilly remarked, “It’s as bad as the night the Beatles were here.”xlvi Police made 39 arrests that night and it took 90 minutes to restore order. The field was unplayable and the Sox were forced to forfeit the game.

Kessinger locked his team in the locker room. “It was a terrible night,” Kessinger recalled. “It was a case of a promotion that was too successful. Nobody saw it coming. I can tell you while we were warming up the stands were chanting ‘Disco sucks!’ the whole time. It just kept going. And people kept coming in. Half were there to watch the ball game and half were there to blow up disco records. And it just got to be a chant constantly and just a really bad deal. I was hoping Steve would calm them down. He walked up to that microphone and he uttered those two words were the first thing he screamed into the mike. I’m sure he was surprised at what happened. It just incited everyone at that point. People piled out of the stands and onto the field. It was just a bad thing. I told all my players to get in the locker room. We locked that door.”xlvii

Unfortunately, Kessinger’s tenure as manager did not progress much better. With the team languishing in fifth place, 14 games out of first place, Kessinger asked Bill Veeck to have lunch with him on August 2. The Sox had just completed a 1–8 home stand and were going nowhere. Kessinger told Veeck the club was “playing with a bad attitude” and he didn’t know how to stop the slide. He surprised him by offering to resign. “I realized halfway through the season we weren’t playing that well, and this isn’t what I wanted to do in the future,” Kessinger recalled. “I went in there and just told him. I said ‘Bill, I’m not going to come back next year. We’re not going anywhere this year. It’s your call. I’ll finish the season, or you can call up Tony LaRussa from Triple-A, which I’m sure he was going to do.”xlviii

At a press conference, Veeck cited Kessinger’s “class” and “integrity” but made no effort to talk him out of resigning, telling reporters “No, because it was his decision. And you know he’s not a fellow given to hasty decisions, and I obviously had to respect what he wanted to do. He felt it would be helpful if we tried to shake up some of the athletes with a different management.”xlix Kessinger added, “I don’t really blame myself for what’s happened, nor do I think Bill Veeck blames me for what happened. I just said to him that I felt maybe a change would help. Bill agreed that a change might help us. I don’t think I did a bad job, and I don’t think Bill feels that way either.” Kessinger also removed himself from the team’s active roster, retiring having played in 2,078 games with a lifetime batting average of .252.

“Chicago is a great sports town,” Kessinger reflected. “I was absolutely blessed to have played there. Their fans just adopted this good ol’ southern boy and treated me like a king. I have nothing but fond memories. I’m just unbelievably thankful to the White Sox for allowing me to finish on such a high note.”[l] And, he added, “being able to live in a great city and playing in Wrigley Field were special. Having Hall of Fame teammates such as Ernie Banks, Billy Williams, Ferguson Jenkins, and Ron Santo made my career extra special.”li

i Logan, Bob. “Kessinger A Unanimous Winner in Chicago Again.” Chicago Tribune, September 9, 1978.

ii Dozer, Richard. “Gate Sings Happy Tune as ChiSox Stand Still.” The Sporting News, September 30, 1978.

iii “North Side- South Side: Don Kessinger.” Weblog entry. Wrigley Wax. February 20, 2009. http://wrigleywax.blogspot.com/2009/02/north-side-south-side-don-kessinger.html?m=1

iv Dozer, Richard. “Kessinger Keeps Going: No Thoughts of Retiring.” The Sporting News, September 9, 1978.

v Kessinger, Don. Personal interview. December 11, 2014.

vi Logan, Bob. “Kessinger A Unanimous Winner in Chicago Again.” Chicago Tribune, September 9, 1978.

vii Logan, Bob. “Kessinger A Unanimous Winner in Chicago Again.” Chicago Tribune, September 9, 1978.

viii Dozer, Richard. “Gate Sings Happy Tune as ChiSox Stand Still.” The Sporting News, September 30, 1978.

ix Yellon, Al. “The Top 100 Cubs of All Time: #67 Don Kessinger.” Bleed Cubbie Blue: A Chicago Cubs Community. January 7, 2007. http://bleedcubbieblue.com/2007/1/7/103713/7478

x Ibid.

xi Ibid.

xii Ibid.

xiii Ibid.

xiv Munzel, Edgar. “Santo Speaking: Hottest Infield Gloves in N.L. Belong to Cubs.” The Sporting News, February 5, 1966.

xv Ibid.

xvi Kessinger interview.

xvii Vassallo, Steve. “Baseball Great, Oxonian, Don Kessinger All-Around Role Model.” October 22, 2014. www.http://hotytoddy.com/2014/10/22/beaseball-great-oxonian-don-kessinger-is-all-around-role-model/

xviii Kessinger interview.

xix Kessinger interview.

xx Holtzman, Jerome. “Switch-Hit Miracle: Kessinger Lifts Bat Mark by 50 points.” The Sporting News, September 3, 1966.

xxi Ibid.

xxii Ibid.

xxiii Ibid.

xxiv Vassallo.

xxv Associated Press. “Week For Kessinger, Cards Just Weak.” June 18, 1971.

xxvi Ibid.

xxvii Kessinger interview.

xxviii Kessinger interview.

xxix Ibid.

xxx Ibid.

xxxi Kessinger interview.

xxxii Smith, John. “Kessinger: This Ex-Cub Finally Gets His Day.” The Evening Independent, March 8, 1976.

xxxiii Ibid.

xxxiv Russo, Neal. “Can Still Do Job Kessinger Assures Cards.” The Sporting News, November 15, 1975.

xxxv Associated Press. “Cubs Trade Kessinger To Cardinals.” October 29, 1974.

xxxvi Kessinger interview.

xxxvii Condon, David. “Kessinger Glad To Return Home.” Chicago Tribune, August 21, 1977.

xxxviii Ibid.

xxxix Kessinger interview.

xl Associated Press. “White Sox Name Don Kessinger Player-Manager,” October 20, 1978.

xli Ibid.

xlii Ibid.

xliii Ibid.

xliv Dozer, Richard. “Sox Promotion Ends in Mob Scene.” Chicago Tribune, July 13, 1979.

xlv “Discophobia Out Of Control.” Chicago Tribune, July 13, 1979.

xlvi Ibid.

xlvii Kessinger interview.

xlviii Ibid.

xlix Dozer, Richard. “’We Needed Change. Ex-ChiSox Pilot Kessinger.” The Sporting News, August 18, 1979.

l Kessinger interview.

li Vassallo.

Lasting Impressions of Harry Caray

Suzanne Wright

Harry Caray’s lasting impression and impact on American culture transcends that of a simple baseball personality. He has become a broadcasting legend and an icon of Chicago and major league baseball.

Caray’s broadcasts were loud, heartfelt, and earthy. His voice made you want to sing along. Harry was a real natural conversationalist on air. A rare guy that would talk about the game, you could listen to him on air and see the game without watching it. He painted the picture with words. You could see the ball fly across the stadium when he called the game. Harry’s words “It might be; it could be; it is! A home run!” Amazing! My favorite visual of Harry was seeing him lean out into the crowd waving the microphone and singing. His style of broadcasting was my inspiration for wanting to take the stick (microphone) and be on air.[i]

Caray’s baseball broadcasting career spanned three metropolises and four major league teams.ii Starting in 1944, Caray began his major league career behind the mike with the St. Louis Cardinals and St. Louis Browns. After more than a quarter century in the Mound City, he worked a single season (1970) with the Oakland Athletics before returning to the Midwest. Caray spent the remaining years of his career and life celebrating baseball with two rivals, the Chicago White Sox (1971–1981) and the Chicago Cubs (1982–1997).

According to the National Baseball Hall of Fame’s website, “In his first 41 seasons in the booth, Caray never missed a game, and the fan favorite went on to broadcast over 8,300 games in his 53-year career in the big leagues.” For his amazing work as a broadcaster, he was awarded the Ford C. Frick Award by the National Baseball Hall of Fame (1989)iii and was inducted into the American Sportscasters Association Hall of Fame (1989)iv as well as the National Radio Hall of Fame (1990)[v].

According to Caray’s friend and business associate Grant DePorter, Caray’s deep love of people and baseball shone through in his untiring devotion to the fans. He was known for broadcasting from the bleachers, signing autographs, sharing a drink with fans at his restaurants, and for keeping his number listed in the telephone book so people could speak with him personally.vi

Caray’s broadcasts were filled with a unique mix of baseball knowledge, fan’s birthdays and anniversaries, and—in later years—comedic commentary on athletes’ names. When the games ran long and there was extra air time to fill, he found creative ways to entertain his audience, such as pronouncing players’ names backwards or telling stories about his travels with his beloved wife, Dutchie. Often he would joke with his long-time broadcast partner Steve Stone about Stone’s playing career.vii

Harry Caray in his days with the White Sox. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

Baseball fans have been singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” written by Jack Norworth and Albert Von Tilzer, since 1908.viii Thanks to the iconic voice of Harry Caray, the song has transformed the wider American culture in ways that not even Busby Berkeley, Frank Sinatra, Gene Kelly, and Esther Williams were able to accomplish with the MGM musical Take Me Out to the Ball Game.ix The song was a staple in ballparks long before Caray started singing it, but once he did, the nation and, soon, the world started singing along. WGN-TV’s status in the 1980s as a cable “Superstation” made it possible for Harry to become a world-renowned figure.[x]

Caray influenced thousands of people, including one young fan, Matt Wagner, who started doing impressions of Harry in the early 1980s. Growing up in Iowa, Wagner was influenced by Caray’s charisma and often imitated his calls at parties. In college, Wagner started a broadcast career modeled in part by Caray’s earthy, personable delivery. He even created an on-air personality, inspired by Harry, called Homer. As a teen, Wagner had the chance to try his impersonation out on Caray himself. Caray’s feedback was, “Aw, go back home and practice.” Wagner did and has since won three of six Harry Caray impersonation contests.xi Although Wagner is not a full-time professional entertainer, he often does Caray impressions for corporate gatherings and special events, such as color commentary for games between the U.S. Military All-Stars and the Field of Dreams Ghost Players.xii He even called a game at the Field of Dreams from a lawn chair at third base.xiii

Grant DePorter noted that Harry was fond of well-done impressions, among his favorites being Will Ferrell’s bits on Saturday Night Live. Ferrell’s impressions not only captured the sportscaster side of Caray, but they also nodded to the intelligence and wit for which Caray was known. DePorter has organized a number of Harry Caray Impersonation Contests and knows and appreciates the skills of Matt Wagner. DePorter also approves of the impressions of Caray done by Major League players Ryan Dempster and Derek Holland. He recognizes that these impersonations speak to the respect and love the fans gave Harry, and keep his legend alive for new sports fans that did not get to hear Harry “live.” When Harry passed away in February of 1998, he hoped that would be the season his beloved Cubbies would take the series.xiv

It is no wonder that a personality so bold and personable would remain in popular culture seventeen years after Caray’s death. He has been memorialized with a star on the St. Louis Walk of Famexv, a larger than life-sized bronze statue of him stands in Wrigley Field, and bronze busts of Caray are located inside all six of the Harry Caray Restaurants.xvi Radio personalities still adapt his style, impressionists still honor him, and millions of fans still toast his memory.xvii

i Michael St. Dennis, KXGE-FM air personality, personal interview with author, December 3, 2014.

ii Hughes, Pat. “Harry Caray.” Baseball Voices. http://www.baseballvoices.com/html/harry_caray.html (accessed December 8, 2014).

iii National Baseball Hall of Fame. “1989 FORD C. FRICK AWARD WINNER HARRY CARAY.” National Baseball Hall of Fame. http://baseballhall.org/discover/awards/ford-c-frick/harry-caray (accessed December 8, 2014).

iv American Sportscaster Association. “1989 Hall of Fame Inductee Harry Caray.” American Sportscasters Hall of Fame. http://www.americansportscasters.com/caray.html (accessed December 8, 2014).

v Radio Hall of Fame. “Harry Caray.” http://www.radiohof.org/harry_caray.htm (accessed December 8, 2014).

vi Grant DePorter, telephone interview with author, December 3, 2014.

vii Grant DePorter.

viii Whitburn, Joel. “Jack Norworth.” Songwriters Hall of Fame. http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/bio/C267 (accessed December 8, 2014).

ix Film Society of Lincoln Center. “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” Film Lives Here. http://www.filmlinc.com/films/on-sale/take-me-out-to-the-ballgame (accessed December 8, 2014).

x Grant DePorter.

xi

Matt Wagner, personal interview with author, December 3, 2014.

xii Joe Scherrman. “Color Commentators Announced for Patriot Night 07.08.09,” Ghost Player, LLC. http://www.ghostplayer.us/updates/color-commentary (accessed December 8, 2014).

xiii Joe Scherrman, telephone interview with author, December 8, 2014.

xiv Grant DePorter.

xv

St Louis Walk of Fame. “Harry Caray.” http://www.stlouiswalkoffame.org/inductees/harry-caray.html (accessed December 8, 2014).

xvi Grant DePorter.

xvii

Grant DePorter.

The Game That Was Not—Philadelphia Phillies at Chicago Cubs, August 8, 1988

Steven Glassman

On February 25, 1988, Chicago’s City Council voted 29–19 to remove a 1983 ban on lights at Wrigley Field, making it theoretically possible for the Chicago Cubs to host night games. The new ordinance also would influence the probability of Major League Baseball awarding the Cubs the 1990 All-Star Game. The vote also locked the Cubs into Chicago through the 2002 season.

An additional “compromise ordinance” addressed the number of night games per season and their start times as well as late afternoon game times, litter, and parking.

General Electric in Hendersonville, North Carolina provided the $5M lighting system and began installing it on April 7. The Cubs announced in June that they would host seven night games that year, the first at 7:05 P.M. August 8 versus the Philadelphia Phillies.1, 2, 3 On June 28, 12,756 public tickets were made available, starting at 8:00 A.M., and quickly sold out.

July 25, the Cubs hosted a 7:00 P.M. “night game preview” which featured an on-field autograph session, home run derby, live music, and batting practice. The lights were tested one final time. About 3,000 people paid $100 each (which went toward the Cubs’ charitable arm) in order to attend this unique event.

The Chicago forecast for August 8 predicted a high of 96 degrees with possible rain and thunderstorms in the morning and evening and partial cloudiness in between.

The “Wrigley Field: Home of Chicago Cubs” marquee that greeted fans as they entered at Clark & Addison also sported a heretofore unseen message: “Welcome to Opening Night.” In addition to the 39,008 in attendance, 556 media representatives were on hand, according to Cubs Director of Media Relations Ned Colletti.4, 5 Some 109 newspapers, 49 television stations, and 38 radio stations covered the game. National television shows sending camera crews included Entertainment Tonight and daytime shows Good Morning America (ABC) and Today (NBC). WGN provided local television and radio coverage of the contest, while^6 in Philadelphia, WTXF provided television and WCAU-AM did the radio broadcast.7

Dignitaries attending included MLB Commissioner Peter Ueberroth, NL President Bart Giamatti, Illinois Governor James Thompson, and Chicago Mayor Eugene Sawyer. Celebrities included actors Dabney Coleman, Bill Murray, and Mark Harmon.8

Some fans that could not get tickets to the game paid as much as $1,000 to watch it from neighboring rooftop buildings. For seats in the ballpark, scalpers paid $250 (or more).

Phillies outfielder Phil Bradley, who lost a home run in the rain. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

C.U.B.S. (Citizens United for Baseball in the Sunshine), a grassroots organization which opposed Wrigley Field night baseball, had approximately 200 people surveying crowd behavior and monitoring whether parking rules were being enforced.

Between May 24, 1935 and August 7, 1988, Wrigley Field had hosted 4,193 regular season games, nine World Series games, two League Championship Series games, and three All-Star games, only one of which—a 1943 All American Girls Professional Baseball League contest lit by a small set of portable lamps—was played at night.

Former Cubs broadcaster Jack Brickhouse served as the pre-game ceremonies emcee. 91-year-old Harry Grossman, who had attended his first Cubs game in 1906, turned the lights on at 6:09 P.M. The Cubs and Phillies, who had previously taken batting practice, then took the field for infield drills. The Chicago Symphony Orchestra performed the National Anthem. Billy Williams and Ernie Banks threw out the ceremonial first pitches to Cubs catcher Damon Berryhill.

The Cubs entered the game in fourth place in the NL East with a 53-56-1 record, 13½ behind the New York Mets. The Phillies were fifth, 48-62-1, 19 games out.9

Rick Sutcliffe threw the first pitch to Phil Bradley—a ball—at 7:01 P.M. The game time temperature was 91 degrees and the air was thick and humid. The south winds were blowing at nine miles per hour.

Rick Sutcliffe, the Cubs' starter on August 8. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Museum, Cooperstown, NY)

Bradley hit Sutcliffe’s third pitch onto Waveland Avenue, over the left-center field wall, for the first hit and run in the Cubs’ first home night game.10 Sutcliffe then retired Milt Thompson on a ground out to third baseman Vance Law, got Juan Samuel to fly to center fielder Mitch Webster, and induced Mike Schmidt to foul out to first baseman Mark Grace to end the inning.

The Cubs responded. Webster grounded Kevin Gross’ first pitch up the middle just went past second baseman Samuel’s glove and into center field. Before the next hitter, Ryne Sandberg, reached the plate, “Morganna the Kissing Bandit” ran from the lower outfield box seats to try to kiss him but was stopped by two security personnel before she could kiss Sandberg.

Unfazed, “Ryno” hit Gross’ second pitch into the left field bleachers and gave the Cubs a 2-1 lead.10 Sandberg came out of the dugout for a curtain call. Gross retired Grace on a line drive to first baseman Ricky Jordan, fanned Andre Dawson, and got Rafael Palmeiro on a fly out to center field to end the inning.

The Phillies threatened in the second, putting two men on, but Sutcliffe induced Gross to pop up to shortstop Shawon Dunston in shallow left field to end the Phillies’ scoring threat.

Kevin Gross, who started for the Phillies in the abortive night game. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

In their half of the inning, the Cubs also put two men on, but with two out, Webster rolled out to first base.

With two outs in the Phillies’ third, Samuel took an outside Sutcliffe pitch to right field. Samuel beat Dawson’s throw and slid into second for a double. During this plate appearance, home plate umpire Eric Gregg called time because the wind was blowing the dirt around home plate. The Phillies’ broadcasters had also noted that the skies were getting darker and the winds were increasing. Schmidt grounded out to shortstop to end the inning.

Sandberg walked on four pitches to lead off the Cubs third. He stole second and advanced to third on Mark Grace’s sacrifice bunt. One out later, Rafael Palmeiro lofted a soft liner into right field and scored Sandberg to give the Cubs a 3-1 lead.11 Law swung and missed at Gross’ first pitch and Palmeiro was caught stealing second.

Cubs second baseman Ryne Sandberg. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY)

The fourth inning began with Lance Parrish being called out on strikes. Chris James’ ground ball deflected off the pitcher’s mound and landed on Sandberg’s glove side of second base, and the Gold Glove defender spun around and threw to first for the out. Ricky Jordan kept the inning alive by lining an outside pitch off the right field fence for a triple, but after fouling off three straight pitches, shortstop Steve Jeltz struck out swinging to end another Phillies rally.

As soon as the top of the fourth ended, a heavy rain began, accompanied by wind, thunder, and lightning. Four Cubs—catcher Jody Davis and pitchers Les Lancaster, Al Nipper, and Greg Maddux ran from the dugout and slid onto the wet infield tarp.12, 13 Some fans also attempted this feat and one crashed into the brick wall near third base so hard that he had to be helped from the field.

At 10:25 P.M., the game was postponed after a two-hour, 10-minute rain delay.14, 15

Morganna Cottrell, the "Kissing Bandit," who planted one on Ryne Sandberg during the rained-out August 8 affair. (National Baseball Hall of Fame Museum, Cooperstown, NY)

Wrigley Field hosted its first official MLB night game the next evening, and the game was televised on NBC. The Cubs scored four runs in the seventh inning en route to a 6-4 rain-free victory over the Mets.

Notes:

1The compromise ordinance originally scheduled eight 1988 night games.

2Chicago Cubs Original 1988 Home Schedule (Seven Games):

Philadelphia Phillies Monday, August 8 7:05 P.M. CT

New York Mets Tuesday, August 9 7:05 P.M. CT

Houston Astros Monday, August 22 7:05 P.M. CT

Houston Astros Tuesday, August 23 7:05 P.M. CT

Philadelphia Phillies Tuesday, September 6 7:05 P.M. CT

New York Mets Wednesday, September 7 6:35 P.M. CT

Montreal Expos Saturday, September 20 6:35 P.M. CT

3The Phillies and Cubs were originally scheduled to play at 3:05 P.M.

4This set an MLB record. There were 275 in Cincinnati when Pete Rose broke Ty Cobb’s career hit record on September 11, 1985. (Years later it was found that Cobb had fewer hits than previously thought, meaning he actually broke the record in Chicago on September 8.)

5Ned Colletti would become the Cubs’ Vice President of Baseball Operations in 1993. He later worked in the San Francisco Giants front office (1995–2005) and was the Los Angeles Dodgers’ General Manager from 2005 through 2014.

6Harry Caray and Dewayne Staats were the Cubs’ television announcers. Steve Stone provided color commentary.

7Harry Kalas and Andy Musser were the Phillies’ television announcers, while Richie Ashburn provided color commentary.

8Murray and Harmon also appeared during the WGN television broadcast.

9The Cubs finished the season in fourth with a 77–85–1 record, 24 games behind the Mets. The Phillies finished sixth (and last), 65–96–1, 35½ behind. This was Philadelphia’s first last place finish since 1973.

10Since the game was not official, Bradley lost his sixth homer of the season (58th career) and Sandberg lost his 12th (102nd).

11Palmeiro‘s third-inning single extended his hitting streak to 18 games, but it also did not count. He officially extended it August 9 and finished with a 20-game streak.

12Les Lancaster went on the 21-day disabled list July 23 following an appendectomy. He was activated August 12.

13Cubs’ GM Jim Frey later fined the foursome $500 each.

14The rainout was rescheduled as part of a September 5 doubleheader.

15The Phillies played their first Wrigley Field night game on September 6 and won 3–2.

Sources

Books

Sloan, Dave ed. 1989. The Sporting News Official Baseball Guide, 1989 Edition. St. Louis: The Sporting News. 13-15, 65.

Magazines

Fimrite, Ron, “Out of the Darkness,” Sports Illustrated, August 15, 1988.

Goddard, Joe, “Notebook: N.L. East,” The Sporting News, August 29, 1988.

Nightingale, Dave, “Let There Be Lights!” The Sporting News, May 30, 1988.

_______________, “It Works Out That Elia Will Help Cubs See Light,” The Sporting News, July, 4, 1988.

Television

Philadelphia Phillies at Chicago Cubs. 1988. Aired August 8 on WTXF. Maxell Epitaxial Video Cassette Model T-120.

New York Mets at Chicago Cubs. 1988. Aired August 9 on NBC. Maxell Epitaxial Video Cassette Model T-120.

Websites

www.archives.chicagotribune.com

www.baseballanerica.com

www.baseball-reference.com

www.retrosheet.org

www.sabr.org

The Chicago History Museum’s Baseball Photo Treasure Trove: The Chicago Daily News Glass Plate Negative Collection

Mark Fimoff

The Archives Library Information Center page of the National Archive website^1 carries the following description of the Chicago Daily News collection:

“This American Memory Collection from the Library of Congress consists of over 55,000 images of urban life captured on glass plate negatives between 1902 and 1933 by photographers employed by the Chicago Daily News. Images include…athletes, sports teams…”

These glass plate negatives are housed in underground “cool storage” at the Chicago History Museum (CHM). This collection—previously known as the Chicago Daily News photo morgue—was donated to CHM by the Marshall Field family more than 50 years ago. Based on information previously entered in a card catalogue and notes scratched on some of the negatives, cataloging of the photos took place in the 1990s. About one-third of the collection (roughly from 1901–1933) was digitized and saved on CD-ROM at that time. By the late 1990s, those images had been made available online.

The American Memory—Library of Congress website, which for more than a decade provided a window into the collection, is no longer supported by the Federal Government. Images from the negatives can still be accessed online, however, at: www.chsmedia.org (click “advanced search” to see the search form).

The search form allows for simple and effective word searching, making it easy to characterize the collection as follows:

- Currently, 55,350 photos are listed

- Searching the word “baseball” returns 7,815 photos

- Searching “American League” returns 1,961 photos

- Searching “National League” returns 2,115 photos

- Searching “Federal League” returns 97 photos

The number of “baseball” photos is surprisingly large, making up 14.1% of the digitized portion of the collection. This seems to indicate a high level of public interest in the sport during the time the images were taken. In addition to covering major league baseball, the collection includes many semi-pro, college, high school, and other amateur team photos. There are also some images of black players, including photos of the Chicago Union Giants. The Federal League photos include some interesting shots of Chicago players in 1913, one year before the FL made the leap to major league status.

The images may be downloaded at no charge in low/medium resolution. High resolution scans are available for $50.00 each. Photos from the collection have frequently appeared in SABR publications. This is clearly a fabulous resource for historical baseball images. The vast majority of photos appear to be correctly identified. Player names inscribed directly on the glass plates appear to be remarkably accurate. (In contrast, the Library of Congress Bain collection includes many vintage inscriptions on photos that are less reliable.) Not all the CHM plates, however, have player IDs inscribed on them, and a significant number of those photos are either misidentified in CHM records or captioned “unknown.” Of the unknowns, many are easily identified. The photos also sport quite a few minor misspellings and date errors. Most errors likely came in through the card catalogue accompanying the negatives at the time they were donated to CHM.

It may be noted that team shots lack individual player IDs, and also that the given date span of the photos in the title of the collection is not quite right. There are baseball photos, for instance, that clearly date to 1901, one year earlier than expected.

We will address some interesting cases in this article, touching in particular on one valuable photo. We will also include a table of caption revisions which a few Pictorial History Committee members have been compiling for more than a decade. This table is by no means complete, but it does provide a good starting point for a more comprehensive review in the future. The value of such photo collections to researchers is greatly enhanced when one actually knows who and what is depicted. All photos appearing here come courtesy of the Chicago History Museum unless otherwise noted.

Figure 1

[left]

SDN-000218  ID:       Jim St. Vrain

correct ID:       Fielder Jones

[middle]

SDN-000216 ID: Jim St. Vrain

This ID is correct

[right]

Jim St. Vrain, 5-1-1902 Chi Tribune

Figure 2

[right]

Fielder Jones exemplar

SD-059933

Figure 3

SDN-000218 ID: Jim St. Vrain

correct ID: Fielder Jones

[center]

SDN-003677 ID: Davy Jones

correct ID: Fielder Jones

[right]

SDN-002180 ID: Fielder Jones

correct ID: Charlie Jones

KEEPING UP WITH THE JONESES

ID errors are understandable given that archivists and museum cataloguers are usually not familiar with Deadball Era baseball players. That said, the results can be amusing if several photos are considered together.

At the left in Figure 1 is displayed SDN-000218 from the CHM collection, captioned as Jim St. Vrain, who appeared briefly for Chicago’s NL club in 1902. Exemplars of St. Vrain are shown right (from the 5-1-1902 Chicago Tribune) and center, this one (SDN-000216) correctly identified in the CHM collection. Clearly SDN-000218 is not St. Vrain.

In fact SDN-000218 is a depiction of Fielder Jones, then of the White Sox. This is supported by an ear comparison with a correctly identified 1914 Fielder Jones exemplar (SD-059933 from CHM) that yields a virtually perfect match (see Figure 2). Note that we will eschew further forensic-style isolated feature comparison in the remainder of this article (though we will present a few simple side-by-side face comparisons). One can assume that each ID asserted has been carefully considered and verified.

In Figure 3, the now correctly identified Fielder Jones appears at left. At center we have SDN-003677, currently identified as Davy Jones, and SDN-002180, right, currently listed as Fielder Jones. In fact the former actually depicts Fielder Jones, while the latter is Charlie Jones in 1904, his only year in Chicago^2.

Figure 4

[left]

SDN-001438 ID: Dummy Taylor

correct ID: Jack Warner

[middle]

SDN-001439 ID: Jack Warner

correct ID: Roscoe Miller

[right]

SDN-00001479 ID: Roscoe Miller

correct ID: Dummy Taylor

Figure 5

SDN-001420 ID: Jack O’Connor

correct ID: Willie Keeler

[middle]

SDN-001399 ID: Ernie Courtney

correct ID: Jack O’Connor

[right]

SDN-001409 ID: unknown

correct ID: Ernie Courtney

SHUFFLING THE DECK

The three 1903 Giants in Figure 4 are currently listed as, left to right, Dummy Taylor, Jack Warner, and Roscoe Miller. That’s the correct trio of names for those three images, only the order is wrong. They are actually Jack Warner, Roscoe Miller, and Dummy Taylor.

The three 1903 New York A.L. players in Figure 5 are listed as, left to right, Jack O’Connor, Ernie Courtney, and unknown. The correct IDs for these images are, respectively, Willie Keeler, Jack O’Connor, and Ernie Courtney.

Figure 6

[left]

SDN-000477

George Davis

[middle]

SDN-000443

Clark Griffith

[right]

SDN-052192

Nap Lajoie

HALL OF FAMERS

In addition to the above misidentification of Hall of Famer Willie Keeler, Figure 6 shows three additional photos of Hall of Famers that are currently unidentified. They are, from left to right, George Davis, Clark Griffith, and Nap Lajoie.

Figure 7

SDN-001400 ID: Herm McFarland

Figure 8

[left]

SDN-001330

[2nd from left]

SDN-004097

[2nd from right]

SDN-004166

[right]

SDN-004167

THE McFARLANDS

The photo in Figure 7 is a depiction of Herm McFarland as a member of the New York AL club in 1903. It is correctly captioned in the CHM collection. Herm had previously spent 1901 and part of 1902 with the White Sox. That probably accounts for the four photos in Figure 8 (1903 far left, the other three from 1905) depicting White Sox catcher Ed McFarland that are currently misidentified as Herm McFarland. Note that one photo in the collection, SDN-004241 (not shown here), is correctly identified as Ed McFarland.

Figure 9

Chi. A.L. 1901

top row: Sam Mertes, Frank Isbell, Jack Katoll, Wiley Piatt,

third row: Fred Hartman, Joe Sugden, Fielder Jones, Jimmy Burke, Roy Patterson, Pop Foster

second row: Nixie Callahan, Charles Comiskey, Clark Griffith;

on ground: Herm McFarland, Frank Shugart, mascot, Dummy Hoy, Billy Sullivan

PHOTOS FROM 1901

A number of the photos can be dated to 1901, one year earlier than the claimed time span of the collection. SDN-000250 is currently listed as the Chicago White Sox, 1901 (SDN-000904 is another photo from the same session). This is correct; however, no players are identified. We do not believe this photo has been previously published with player identifications. They are herein provided below Figure 9.

SDN-000312 is shown below in Figure 10. (SDN-000313 and SDN-000314 are photos from the same session.) Although this clearly depicts a different team than that which appears in Figure 9, it is also listed as Chicago White Sox, 1901. It is, in fact, the 1901 Chicago NL club. Player identifications are provided (again, we believe, for the first time) below Figure 10.

Several interesting single player images from 1901 are currently misidentified. SDN-000348, seen at right in Figure 11, is currently identified as Charlie O’Leary, but actually depicts Bert Cunningham at West Side Grounds. A Cunningham exemplar from about 13 years earlier (his c1888 Old Judge card) is shown just below, left. Cunningham also appears in the team photo of Figure 10.

Figure 10

Chicago NL, 1901; back row: Jock Menefee, Fred Raymer, Eddie Hickey, Mal Eason, Danny Green, Frank Chance, Charlie Dexter, John Kling; mid row: Tom Hughes, Cupid Childs, Cozy (Patrick Henry) Dolan, Jack Doyle, Tom Loftus, Jim Delahanty, Barry McCormick, Jack Taylor; on ground: Topsy Hartsel, Bert Cunningham

Figure 11

[left]

Cunningham OJ card

c1888

[right]

SDN-000348 ID: Chas. O’Leary Detroit Tigers 1901

correct ID: Bert Cunningham, Chi. N.L. 1901 at West Side Grounds

Figure 12

[left]

Pete Childs 1909

mgr. Greenville

[2nd from left]

Pete Childs 1901

StL N.L.

[right]

SDN-0004749 ID: Delhanty…1906

correct ID: Pete Childs, Chi. N.L. 1901 at West Side Grounds

Several interesting single player images from 1901 are currently misidentified. SDN-000348, seen at right in Figure 11, is currently identified as Charlie O’Leary, but actually depicts Bert Cunningham at West Side Grounds. A Cunningham exemplar from about 13 years earlier (his c1888 Old Judge card) is shown at left. Cunningham also appears in the team photo of Figure 10.

SDN-004748 and SDN-004749 are currently listed as “portrait of Delhanty (sic)…1906,” likely referring to Jim Delahanty. These photos, however, actually depict Pete Childs in 1901, his only year in Chicago. SDN-004749 is shown here in Figure 12. He is standing in front of the center field clubhouse at West Side Grounds (the clubhouse was rebuilt with bricks in 1905). Childs exemplars from 1909 and 1901 are shown in Figure 12 left and center respectively. The baseball-sized hole in the wooden door (arrow) is worth noting.

The collection also includes correctly identified 1901 photos of Mike Kahoe (SDN-000680, SDN-000681) and Rube Waddell (SDN-000683, SDN-000684) taken from the same location as that shown in Figure 12.

It should be noted that these 1901 photos taken within West Side Grounds are among the earliest that we know of. We have seen none from the 1890s through 1900.

Figure 13

SDN-059782 ID: Bob Shawkey (right), A’s, Comiskey Park 1914

Figure 14

SDN-058181 ID: Davy Jones, White Sox, Comiskey Park 1913

Figure 15

SDN-060197 ID: Ed Klepfer, White Sox, Comiskey Park 1915

Figure 16

SDN-059778 ID: Babe Ruth, Red Sox,

Comiskey Park 1914

Figure 17

[left]

SI photo of Ruth as a member of Red Sox, previously claimed to be 1914

[middle]

Babe Ruth from the 7-30-1914 “The Boston Traveler” newspaper

[right]

magnified from Figure 16,

SDN-059778 ID: Babe Ruth,

Red Sox, Comiskey Park 1914

PIÈCE DE RÉSISTANCE

SDN-059782, shown here as Figure 13, is identified by CHM as Bob Shawkey of the Philadelphia Athletics, taken in 1914 at Comiskey Park. That certainly is Shawkey at Comiskey Park wearing an A’s uniform, and he was a member of that club during 1913, 1914, and part of 1915. Let’s see if we can confirm the date.

It is not uncommon to attempt to date old baseball photos by analyzing outfield billboard content. Ballpark billboards tend to vary from year to year, but in this era were fairly stable during the course of a season. Newspaper photos showing outfield advertising can be effective tools in correlating an array of specific ads to a given season. We will try to effectively do the same using only photos from the CHM collection.

Figure 14 shows SDN-058181, correctly captioned as Davy Jones in a White Sox uniform at Comiskey Park in 1913. This was Jones’s only year with the Sox. Comparing the scoreboard billboards in Figures 13 and 14, it is obvious that the portions denoted by the pairs of arrows are substantially different. Therefore, it is highly unlikely that the Shawkey photo was taken in 1913.

The photo of Figure 15, SDN-060197, does in fact depict Ed Klepfer in a White Sox uniform. Klepfer’s only season with the White Sox was 1915, so the asserted date is highly likely to be correct. Note that the pair of arrows in Figure 15 points to advertising substantially different from that seen in Figures 13 and 14. Also, CHM photos of Finners Quinlan and Bunny Brief in Sox uniforms (SDN-060196 and SDN-060211 respectively), both of whom spent only the year 1915 in Chicago, show the same billboard configuration as in the Klepfer photo.

The only fair conclusion, therefore, is that the Figure 13 Shawkey photo was indeed taken in 1914. Why do we care?

SDN-059778, shown in Figure 16, is claimed by CHM to depict Babe Ruth of the Red Sox at Comiskey Park in 1914. This claimed date is what is significant here, and it is confirmed by the scoreboard advertising matching that seen in the Shawkey photo. Ruth appeared in only five games for the Red Sox in 1914. Other than poor quality old newspaper images, we have no verifiable photos of Ruth in a Red Sox uniform in 1914.

Another photo claiming to depict Ruth with the 1914 Red Sox had appeared on the Sports Illustrated web site (the caption has since been removed). The head cropped from that photo appears in Figure 17, left. At center is Ruth from the 7/30/1914 Boston Traveler. At far right is Ruth’s head, magnified from the CHM Figure 16 image.

For the Boston Traveler and CHM photos, at center and far right respectively, note the very short cap bills. The cap style changed to a more “modern,” somewhat longer bill after 1914. This is evident from careful examination of various Red Sox team and individual photos of the era. Ruth’s cap bill in the SI photo (near right) is clearly of the more modern style. Given that, and given no particular evidence dating the SI photo to 1914, we can say that we know of no extant 1914 Ruth/Red Sox photo other than SDN-059778.

The Red Sox purchased Ruth from Baltimore on July 9. He made his first appearance in a game two days later against Cleveland. Ruth remained with the Red Sox until the club sent him down to Providence on or about August 19. During this time, Boston’s only visit to Chicago occurred from July 29 to August 1. This is likely when SDN-059778 was taken^2.

What value can be ascribed to this CHM glass plate negative? According to one major auction house, a good guess of its outside market value would be at least $50,000, with a six-figure result a possibility. Of course, other such photos may be found. Even if that’s the case, SDN-059778 will remain a singular and very valuable piece.

SDN-059778 displayed on a light table, emulsion side up, held by the steady hand of Chicago History Museum curator Peter Alter. The image appears horizontally flipped.

THE LIST

Space and time limitations make it impossible to discuss every photo caption in the collection which needs corrections or additions. Instead, a table is provided below listing what is known to date in hopes of aiding researchers and writers in using the photos.

A word searchable .xls file containing these same revisions is available from Pictorial History Committee on request. This will be a living document, with additions made over time. Comments and insight from readers are welcomed. Thanks to Bill Hickman and Matt Fulling for providing some of the corrections. Matt was particularly helpful with identifying players in some of the team photos.

TEAM PHOTOS

We’ve added a fair number of player IDs for team photos, though some are yet to be studied.

SDN-000312

SDN-000313

SDN-000314 Chicago White Sox, 1901 | Chicago NL, 1901; back row: Jock Menefee, Fred Raymer, Eddie Hickey, Mal Eason, Danny Green, Frank Chance, Charlie Dexter, John Kling; mid row: Tom Hughes, Cupid Childs, Cozy (Patrick Henry) Dolan, Jack Doyle, Tom Loftus, Jim Delahanty, Barry McCormick, Jack Taylor; on ground: Topsy Hartsel, Bert Cunningham;

SDN-000904 Chicago AL, 1901 | Chicago AL 1901; back row: Fred Hartman, Sam Mertes, Joe Sugden, Frank Isbell, Fielder Jones, Jack Katoll, Jimmy Burke, Wiley Piatt, Roy Patterson, Pop Foster; mid row: Jimmy Callahan, Charles Comiskey, Clark Griffith; on ground: Herm McFarland, Frank Shugart, mascot, Dummy Hoy, Billy Sullivan;

SDN-000941

SDN-000942 Cincinnati Reds, 1902 | Cleveland AL 1902; back row: Addie Joss, Bill Bernhard, Earl Moore, Jack Thoney; mid row: Bill Bradley, Harry Bay, Charlie Hickman, Peaches Graham, George Starnagle; front row: Harry Bemis, Jack McCarthy, Nap Lajoie, Bill Armour, Elmer Flick, John Gochnaur;

SDN-000943

SDN-000944 Chicago White Sox, 1901 | Chicago AL 1902; back row: Jimmy Callahan, Fielder Jones, Roy Patterson, Frank Isbell, Wiley Piatt, James Durham; mid row: Sam Mertes, Ed McFarland, Sammy Strang, Tom Daly; front row: George Davis, Billy Sullivan, Charles Comiskey, Clark Griffith, Danny Green;

SDN-001324

SDN-001326 Philadelphia AL, 1903 | Philadelphia AL, 1903 back row: Ossee Schrecongost, Chief Bender, Rube Waddell, Weldon Henley, Tad Quinn, Harry Davis; front row: Danny Murphy, Danny Hoffman, Doc Powers, Lave Cross, Connie Mack, Topsy Hartsel, Monte Cross, Socks Seybold;

SDN-001337 St. Louis AL, 1903 | St. Louis AL, 1903; back row: Joe Sugden, Bobby Wallace, Red Donahue, Jack Powell, Ed Siever; mid row: John Anderson, Bill Friel, Jesse Burkett, Barry McCormick; front row: Emmet Heidrick, Charlie Hemphill, Mike Kahoe;

SDN-001343 Chicago AL, 1903 | Chicago AL, 1903; back row: Cozy (Patrick Henry) Dolan, Frank Owen?, Davey Dunkle?, Roy Patterson, Billy Sullivan, Ed McFarland, Frank Isbell, Lee Tannehill, Tom Daley;

front row: Patsy Flaherty, Danny Green, Jimmy Callahan, Doc White, Bill Hallman;

SDN-001403

SDN-001404 New York AL, 1903 | New York AL 1903; back row: Ernie Courtney, Herman Long, ?,

John Ganzel, Monte Beville, Dave Fultz, Jimmy Williams, Jack Chesbro, Lefty Davis; front row: Herm McFarland, Jack O’Conner, Clark Griffith, Willie Keeler, Wid Conroy, Jesse Tannehill;

SDN-001413 Washington AL, 1903 | Washington AL, 1903; back row: Happy Townsend, Bill Coughlin, Watty Lee, Scoops Carey, Boileryard Clarke, Al Orth; mid row: Jimmy Ryan, Joe Martin, Rabbit Robinson, Lew Drill, Ed Delahanty, Highball Wilson; front row: Ducky Holmes, Kip Selbach;

SDN-001440 Boston NL, 1903 | Boston NL, 1903; back row: John Malarkey, Ed Abbaticchio, Fred Tenney, Ed Gremminger, Pat Moran, Togie Pittinger; front row: Wiley Piatt, Joe Stanley, Frank Bonner, A. C. Buckenberger, Charlie Dexter, Pat Carney, Malachi Kittridge, Duff Cooley

SDN-001455

SDN-001456 Boston AL, 1903 | Boston AL, 1903; back row: Lou Criger, George Winter, Jack O’Brien, Bill Dineen, Tom Hughes, Candy LaChance, Patsy Dougherty; front row: Aleck Smith, Hobe Ferris, Jimmy Collins, Freddy Parent, Norwood Gibson;

SDN-001466

SDN-001467 Brooklyn NL, 1903 Brooklyn NL, 1903; back row: Bill Dahlen, Sammy Strang , Ned Garvin , Jimmy Sheckard , Walt McCredie; mid row: John Dobbs , Hughie Hearne , Jack Doyle, Fred Jacklitsch , Dutch Jordan , Lew Ritter; front row: Oscar Jones, Henry Schmidt;

SDN-001471

SDN-001472 New York NL, 1903 | New York NL, 1903: back row: Roger Bresnahan, Dan McGann, Billy Lauder, Roscoe Miller, Dummy Taylor, Joe McGinnity, Jack Warner; mid row: Christy Mathewson; front row: George Browne, Frank Bowerman, Charlie Babb, Billy Gilbert, John McGraw, Jack Cronin, Sam Mertes, George Van Haltren;

SDN-002388

SDN-002389 Phillies, 1904 | Philadelphia NL 1904; back row: Chick Fraser, Frank Roth, Jack Doyle, Hugh Duffy, Harry Wolverton, John Brackenridge, Johnny Lush, John Titus, Kid Gleason; front row: ?, Bob Hall, Deacon Van Buren, Bill Duggleby, Red Dooin, Roy Thomas;

SDN-001403

SDN-001404 New York AL, 1903 | New York AL 1903; back row: Ernie Courtney, Herman Long, ?, John Ganzell, Monte Beville, Dave Fultz, Jimmy Williams, Jack Chesbro, Lefty Davis; front row: Herm McFarland, Jack O’Conner, Clark Griffith, Willie Keeler, Wid Conroy, Jesse Tannehill;

SDN-001413 Washington AL, 1903 | Washington AL, 1903; back row: Happy Townsend, Bill Coughlin, Watty Lee, Scoops Carey, Boileryard Clarke, Al Orth; mid row: Jimmy Ryan, Joe Martin, Rabbit Robinson, Lew Drill, Ed Delahanty, Highball Wilson; front row: Ducky Holmes, Kip Selbach;

SDN-001440 Boston NL, 1903 | Boston NL, 1903; back row: John Malarky, Ed Abbatichio, Fred Tenney, Ed Gremminger, Pat Moran, Togie Pittinger; front row: Wiley Piatt, Joe Stanley, Frank Bonner, A. C. Buckenberger, Charlie Dexter, Pat Carney, Malachi Kitteridge, Duff Cooley;

SDN-001455

SDN-001456 Boston AL, 1903 | Boston AL, 1903; back row: Lou Criger, George Winter, Jack O’Brien, Bill Dineen, Tom Hughes, Candy LaChance, Patsy Dougherty; front row: Aleck Smith, Hobe Ferris, Jimmy Collins, Freddy Parent, Norwood Gibson;

SDN-001466

SDN-001467 Brooklyn NL, 1903 | Brooklyn NL, 1903; back row: Bill Dahlen, Sammy Strang, Ned Garvin, Jimmy Sheckard, Walt McCredie; mid row: John Dobbs, Hughie Hearne, Jack Doyle, Fred Jacklitsch , Dutch Jordan , Lew Ritter; front row: Oscar Jones, Henry Schmidt;

SDN-001471

SDN-001472

New York NL, 1903 | New York NL, 1903: back row: Roger Bresnahan, Dan McGann, Billy Lauder, Roscoe Miller, Dummy Taylor, Joe McGinnity, Jack Warner; mid row: Christy Mathewson; front row: George Browne, Frank Bowerman, Charlie Babb, Billy Gilbert, John McGraw, Jack Cronin, Sam Mertes, George Van Haltren;

SDN-002388

SDN-002389 Phillies, 1904 | Philadelphia NL 1904; back row: Chick Fraser, Frank Roth, Jack Doyle, Hugh Duffy, Harry Wolverton, John Brackenridge, Billy Lush, John Titus, Kid Gleason; front row: ?, Bob Hall, Deacon Van Buren, Bill Duggleby, Red Dooin, Roy Thomas;

SDN-001513 no ID | Chief Zimmer…1903

SDN-001721A no ID | Otto Krueger

SDN-001841 no ID | Chick Stahl…1903

SDN-001976A Patsy (Patrick Joseph) Flaherty…White Sox..South Side Park; 1903 | Patrick Joseph "Patsy" Flaherty…White Sox...West Side Grounds 1903 (City Series)

SDN-002033 Herm McFarland | Ed McFarland

SDN-002034 Dave Brain…football | Dave Brain St. Louis NL 1903

SDN-002200 Baseball players Jack O'Neill, Peaches Graham, Cubs and unknown, 1904 | Baseball players Jack O'Neill, Del Howard, and George "Peaches" Graham

SDN-002561 Baseball player Bull H. Smith | Baseball player Harry T. Smith

SDN-002561 Bull H. Smith… | Harry "Bull" Smith…

SDN-002567 Patsy Flaharty.. | Patsy Flaherty...

SDN-002851B Charles Moran…St. Louis AL…1905 | James Buchanan...St. Louis AL...1905

SDN-002860 Ed Hahn..New York AL..South Side Park | Noodles Hahn...Cincinnati NL...WSG

SDN-002897 Cozy Dolan…Boston Beaneaters…pitcher…1905 | Cozy Dolan RF (maybe)…Cincinnati NL…1905.

SDN-002938 Solly Hofman…Brooklyn Reds | Solly Hofman…Chicago NL

SDN-002939 Carl Lundgren…West Side Grounds | not West Side Grounds - location unknown

SDN-002948 Shad Barry….Cincinnati Reds | Shad Barry…..Chicago NL

SDN-002957 Jake Weimer…West Side Grounds | not West Side Grounds - location unknown

SDN-002963

SDN-002964 no ID | Ed Walsh

SDN-003001 Ed Hahn..New York AL..South Side Park | Noodles Hahn...Cin NL...West Side Grounds

SDN-003039 Patsy Flaharty.. | Patsy Flaherty...

SDN-003265 Dobles…Brooklyn Superbas | John Dobbs, Brooklyn NL

SDN-003493 James Casey…Brooklyn Superbas…West Side Grounds | James "Doc" Casey, Chicago NL…. not West Side Grounds - location unknown

SDN-003584 Jiggs Donahue wearing a pitchers glove | Jiggs Donahue…first baseman’s mitt

SDN-003674 James (Doc) Casey, National League Brooklyn Superbas baseball player…South Side Park...;1905 | James "Doc" Casey, Chicago NL……1905 City Series

SDN-003677 James Casey…Brooklyn Superbas…and Davy Jones | James "Doc" "Casey, Chicago NL…..and Fielder Jones...(1905 City Series)

SDN-003680 ..Frank Isbell, Johnny Kling.. | Left to right, Frank Isbell, James "Doc" Casey, ?, Sullivan?...

SDN-003697 James Casey…Brooklyn Superbas… | James "Doc" "Casey, Chicago NL

SDN-003698 ..unidentified player…. | James "Doc" Casey, Chicago NL

SDN-003755 Joe McGinnity New York NL 1905 | Joe McGinnity New York NL 1903

SDN-003759 Christy Mathewson New York NL 1905 | Christy Mathewson New York NL 1903

SDN-003760 Dan McGann..New York NL..1905 | Dan McGann...New York NL...1903

SDN-003761 Dan McGann..New York NL..1905 | Dan McGann...New York NL...1904

SDN-003763 John McGraw New York NL 1905 | John McGraw New York NL 1904

SDN-003775 Charlie Hickman..New York NL..1905 | Charlie Hickman...New York NL...ca.1903

SDN-004097 Herm McFarland..1903 | Ed McFarland

SDN-004166 Herm McFarland | Ed McFarland

SDN-004167 Herm McFarland | Ed McFarland

SDN-004179 …Doc Casey, an unidentified Chicago Cubs player..and Jiggs Donahue | Left to right, John "Jiggs" Donahue Chicago AL, Jimmy Slagle Chicago NL, and an unidentified Chicago NL player...

SDN-004337 Slagle…1905 | Jimmy Slagle…ca.1904

SDN-004341 Jimmy T. Sheckard…Brooklyn Superbas..;1906 | Jimmy Sheckard…Brooklyn NL...1905

SDN-004342 Kling..1905 | Johnny Kling…ca.1904

SDN-004465 unidentified | Bob Wicker

SDN-004486 Herm McFarland | Ed McFarland

SDN-004568 Gurry..1905 | Clarence Currie...1903

SDN-004569 Gurry..1905 | Clarence Currie...1903

SDN-004575 James Doc Casey….West Side Grounds | not West Side Grounds - location unknown

SDN-004748 Portrait of Delhanty…baseball player,,,standing on a baseball field..1906 | Pete Childs, Chi NL, in front of center field club house, West Side Grounds, 1901

SDN-004749 Portrait of Delhanty…bsaeball player…standing on a baseball field..1906 | Pete Childs, Chi NL, in front of center field club house, West Side Grounds, 1901

SDN-004752 Kitson | Charles Irwin

SDN-004760 Frank Owen…..White Sox…South Side Park; 1906 | Frank Owen…..White Sox…West Side Grounds (City Series); 1903

SDN-004847 Pat Moran…1905 | Pat Moran…1903

SDN-005043 Browns at White Sox 1906 | Browns at White Sox 1905

SDN-0051624 Frank Chance…West Side Grounds…ca. 1907 | Frank Chance…..Palace of the Fans, Cincinnati……..1906

SDN-005995 Fred Pfeiffer…White Sox..AL | Fred Pfeffer..former Chicago NL…1883-1889, 1891, 1896-1897

SDN-005996 Fred Pfeiffer…White Sox..AL | Fred Pfeffer..former Chicago NL…1883-1889, 1891, 1896-1897

SDN-005997 Fred Pfeiffer…White Sox..AL | Fred Pfeffer..former Chicago NL…1883-1889, 1891, 1896-1897

SDN-006083 …West Side Gorunds…. | …Bennett Park….

SDN-006845 Frank Lange…1908 | Frank Lange...1910

SDN-006874 no ID | Bill Campbell

SDN-006875 Chicago Cubs baseball players, including Pat Moran, leaning on… | Chicago NL baseball players, left to right, Orval Overall, Pat Moran, ?, Johnny Evers, waiting for batting practice…

SDN-006880 National League's Chicago Cubs baseball players Del Howard, Durbin, Frank Chance, Mordecai Brown and Slagle | Chicago NL baseball players, left to right, Jimmy Slagle, Del Howard, ?, Mordecai Brown, Blaine "Kid" Durbin, and Frank Chance…

SDN-006926 Chicago Cubs baseball player Frank Chance… | Chicago NL baseball players Frank Chance, foreground, and Jimmy Sheckard just to the right of Chance

SDN-006928 Chicago Cubs baseball player Johnny Evers… | Chicago NL baseball player Johnny Evers…. Other identified players are Jimmy Sheckard, foreground left, and Frank Chance just to the left and behind Evers

SDN-008761 ..at Cincinnati…4-14-1910 | …at West Side Grounds…4-21-1910

SDN-008788 Jiggs Donahue…Red Sox | Jiggs Donahue…Chicago AL

SDN-008801 Jiggs Donahue…Red Sox | Jiggs Donahue…Chicago AL

SDN-009438 Downes…Reds…1911 | Tom Downey…Cincinnati NL…1911

SDN-009792 Larry Doyle…Cubs | Larry Doyle…New York NL

SDN-050742 Kid Gleason…1904 | Kid Gleason….c1906

SDN-050874 John McGraw New York Superbas | John McGraw New York NL

SDN-050938 Al Bridwell…1905…New York..Superbas | Al Bridwell….could be Reds

SDN-051447a West Side Grounds…1906 | Shibe Park, Philadelphia - 1905 World Series

SDN-051607 game at South Side Park…1905 | game at South Side Park….1906

SDN-051609 Kid Gleason…1904 | Kid Gleason….c1906

SDN-051793 ….John Kling…standing on a dirt surface in front of a brick wall in Chicago..1907 | …John Kling…standing in front of the center field clubhouse, West Side Grounds, Chicago….ca. 1906

SDN-051795 Martin Walsh | Tom Walsh

SDN-051803 …Carl Lundgren…1905 | …Carl Lundgren….1906

SDN-051845 Frank Chance…Frank Bowerman…1904 | Frank Chance…Frank Bowerman…1906

SDN-051879 Martin Walsh | Tom Walsh

SDN-051967a Eddie Cicotte..White Sox..1907…South Side Park | Eddie Cicotte…Chicago AL…1917..Comiskey Park

SDN-051967b Eddie Cicotte..White Sox..1907…South Side park | Eddie Cicotte…Chicago AL…c1918

SDN-052192 no ID | Nap Lajoie…1909

SDN-052484 no ID….1906 | Solly Hofman…1907

SDN-052624 no ID | Nick Altrock

SDN-054424 Jack Pfiester | Jimmy Sheckard

SDN-054503 ..Delehanty.. | …Jim Delahanty…

SDN-054588 catcher Schreck, White Sox…1908 | may be catcher Ossee Schrecongost, Chicago AL, 1908

SDN-054592 Stahl…White Sox… | Jake Stahl…Boston AL

SDN-054901 Sutor | Harry Suter

SDN-054905a Jim Scott…1909 | Jim Scott….c.1914-1916

SDN-054953 ..Delehanty.. | Jim Delahanty..

SDN-054954 ..Delehanty.. | Jim Delahanty..

SDN-054958 ..Delehanty.. | Jim Delahanty..

SDN-054960 ..Delehanty.. | Jim Delahanty..

SDN-054964 Mike Mitchell…Cubs…1909 | Mike Mitchell…Cincinnati NL…1909

SDN-055001 Sutor | Harry Suter

SDN-055015 Sutor | Harry Suter

SDN-055018 Sutor | Harry Suter

SDN-055055 Sutor | Harry Suter

SDN-055078 Pat Moran…Philadelphia NL | Pat Moran…Chicago NL

SDN-055362 catcher…Johnson | pitcher….Walter Johnson

SDN-055491 Billy Sullivan…1909 | Billy Sullivan…c1907-1908

SDN-055637 Messinger | Bobby Messenger

SDN-055706 Messinger | Bobby Messenger

SDN-055750 Unidentified | Ed Walsh

SDN-055755 Messinger | Bobby Messenger

SDN-055784 ...Text on a sign on a grandstand wall reads, in part: Please! Do. | Text on a sign on a grandstand wall reads: PLEASE! DO NOT THROW BOTTLES

SDN-055808 Unidentified | Ed Walsh

SDN-055812 Messinger | Bobby Messenger

SDN-055939* Richie…Chicago White Sox…1910 | Lew Richie…Chicago NL…1910

SDN-055943 Frank Isbell..1909 | Frank Isbell….c1907-1908

SDN-056523 Wingo St. Louis NL | Joe Tinker Chicago NL

SDN-056740 Baley (sic) | Baseball player Harry "Bill" Bailey

SDN-057570 Art Phelan…Cubs…1912 | Art Phelan…Cincinnati NL…1912

SDN-057571 Art Phelan…Cubs…1912 | Art Phelan…Cincinnati NL…1912

SDN-058326 Gainor | Bobby Veach

SDN-058796a Mordecai Brown, West Side Grounds, 1913 | Mordecai Brown, Weeghman Park, 1916

SDN-058852 Allison | Milo Allison

SDN-059678a 1914 | 4-20-1916, parade from Grant Park to Weeghman Park, 1st Cub game there, Eddie Mulligan, Cy Williams, Joe Tinker, Mordecai Brown

SDN-060138 ..Federal League…parade | Federal League…Parade…Joe Tinker

SDN-061164 Harry Frazee, Ray Schalk, unidentified, Thomas, Hooper | Ray Schalk, Pinch Thomas, ?, Jack Barry, Harry Hooper (Frazee is not present)

SDN-061549 Dee Bue | Jean Dubuc Bos AL 1918

SDN-061861 William Kipf | Larry Kopf

SDN-061862 Kipt | Larry Kopf

SDN-061863 Kipt | Larry Kopf

SDN-062478 Bailey | Abraham "Sweetbread" Bailey

SDN-063734 Morrison, Cubs | Phil Morrison, Pirates

SDN-065411 Peels | Jim Poole

SDN-065540 Heline Cubs | Henline, Phillies

SDN-065540 Heline of the Nat. Lg.'s Chicago Cubs | Henline of the Nat. Lg.'s Philadelphia Phillies

SDN-065541 Hauks | Nelson "Chicken" Hawks, Phi NL, 1925

SDN-067791 Ainsmith | Eddie Ainsmith

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Sincere thanks to Chicago History Museum archivist Peter Alter for providing the author with general information about the collection and a fascinating behind the scenes tour. Thanks also to Matt Fulling, Bill Hickman, Graig Kreindler, Rob Lifson, Bob Richardson, Steve Steinberg, and Don Stokes for their very helpful comments and assistance.

Endnotes

http://www.archives.gov/research/alic/reference/photography.html

[2] Based on the CHM caption, SDN-002180 was misidentified as Fielder Jones in SABR’s “Deadball Stars of the American League.”

From The North Side To The Deep South

Francis Kinlaw

Sandburg’s “City of Big Shoulders” (that’s Carl, not Ryne!)

Was once quite important in a small world of mine;

For Fate placed me, in the Fifties, far from a city

Forcing this baseball lover to fight off self-pity.

Following 16 teams was a task by itself,

Yearbooks were plentiful on my bookshelf;

I memorized the stats of guys like Joey Jay,

And gave thanks for Mutual’s Game-of-the-Day!

Though I felt isolated down South from baseball’s great feats,

The radio in our house provided my necessary treats

In the form of broadcasts, day after day,

Each of a big-league matinee.

Wrigley Field, decades before the advent of cable,

Became the Mutual Network’s most common staple;

In the only ballpark with pure, natural light

Day games were plentiful, none played at night.

The Cubs were heard more often on my precious Philco

Than teams that won more in Frick’s acclaimed show;

That the Cubs often held the short end of the score

Mattered none to a youngster who loved the sport’s lore.

My mother, though no fan, showed little frustration,

Believing that listening increased one’s imagination;

And because that was true, I did “see” Stan Hack

Remove more than one pitcher, and Ernie Banks take a whack.

With every hit, pitch, catch, or Cubbie miscue,

I was transported off to Waveland Avenue;

Moved by the voices of men like Art Gleeson,

I relished events of each baseball season.

Bob Neal, Rex Barney, Gene Elston, John MacLean

Were key characters during each summer campaign

In a decade when the sun most clearly did shine

On an ivy-covered wall and unique baseball shrine.

The White Sox were consistently Chicago’s best team---

Of pennants their fans could reasonably dream;

Their games were broadcast once in a while

Sending Minnie and Nellie through my radio dial.

Many folks watched those games without giving a thought

To outland regions the big leagues forgot;

But we Southerners hungered for rare baseball meals,

Be it the Game of the Day or Frank Lane’s latest deals.

Mutual and the Cubs played a vital role

In bringing nourishment to my overlooked bowl---

Which, in my youth, was a brown radio

With sounds coming from it that made this fan glow!

Contributors

BRENDAN BINGHAM, a SABR member since 2009, has contributed to SABR publications Bridging Two Dynasties: The 1947 Yankees (2013) and The National Pastime: Baseball in the Space Age (2014). He was also a poster presenter at SABR 43.

DAVE BOHMER is Director Emeritus, Pulliam Center for Contemporary Media and Media Fellows Program, DePauw University. Formerly a telecommunications executive, he has been teaching and researching baseball history for more than a decade.

STEPHEN D. BOREN, MD, MBA, FACEP is an emergency medicine physician and Assistant Professor of Emergency Medicine at the University of Illinois College of Medicine. He has appeared on multiple occasions in the Baseball Research Journal, The National Pastime, and Baseball Digest.

MATTHEW CLIFFORD, a freelance writer from suburban Chicago, joined SABR in 2011 to help preserve accurate facts of baseball history. Clifford’s background in law enforcement and knowledge of forensic investigative techniques aid him in historical research and data collection. He has contributed to the SABR Biography Project and the 2013 National Pastime.

ALAN COHEN, a retired insurance underwriter, has been a member of SABR since 2011. He has written more than 20 biographies for SABR's bio project.  His article about the Hearst Sandlot Classic, which launched the careers of 88 major leaguers, appeared in the fall 2013 Baseball Research Journal. A Long Island native, he now resides in West Hartford, CT with his wife Frances, two cats, and two dogs.

ROB EDELMAN teaches film history at the University at Albany. He authored Great Baseball Films and Baseball on the Web, and, with his wife Audrey Kupferberg, Meet the Mertzes, a double biography of I Love Lucy’s Vivian Vance and famed baseball fan William Frawley. A frequent contributor to Base Ball: A Journal of the Early Game, he has written articles on baseball and pop culture for many publications.

MARK FIMOFF has been a SABR member since 2007. He is currently co-chairman of the Pictorial History Committee and was photo editor for Inventing Baseball—The 100 Greatest Games of the 19th Century. He also produces the committee newsletter, which includes much material on early baseball photos. His interests lie mainly in analyzing early professional baseball photos in order to determine the time, place, and people present. Mark has assisted major libraries, SABR authors, auction houses, and collectors with respect to such identifications.

DAVID FLETCHER went to medical school in Chicago and founded the Chicago Baseball Museum in 2005.

GORDON GATTIE is a human-systems integration engineer for the U.S. Navy in Virginia. His baseball research interests involve ballparks, baseball records, and statistical analysis. A SABR member since 1998, Gordon earned his Ph.D. from the State University of New York at Buffalo, where he used baseball to investigate judgment/decision-making performance in complex dynamic environments. Originally from Buffalo, Gordon learned early the hardships associated with rooting for the city’s sports teams. Ever the optimist, he now roots for the Cleveland Indians and Washington Nationals. Lisa, his lovely bride who also enjoys baseball, continues to challenge him by rooting for the Yankees.

STEVEN GLASSMAN has been a SABR member since 1994 and regularly makes presentations for the Connie Mack Chapter. SABR45 will be his tenth convention. “Philadelphia’s Other Hall of Famers” was published for the SABR43 online edition. Steven has made five convention poster presentations, most recently, “The Gulf States and Lone Star League” (SABR44). He also made three oral presentations at SABR nationals, most recently “A History of the Houston Colt .45s and Astros in The Rule Five Draft.”

JAMES HAWKING, a lifelong White Sox fan, is a retired professor from Chicago State University. He is the author of Strikeout: Baseball, Broadway and the Brotherhood, a historical novel about John Montgomery Ward.

LESLIE HEAPHY, Associate Professor of History at Kent State University at Stark, is author and/or editor of four books on the Negro Leagues and Women’s baseball as well as editor of Black Ball, a national peer-reviewed journal about black baseball.

BROCK HELANDER is the author of The Rock Who’s Who (1982), The Rock Who’s Who Second Edition (1996), The Rockin’ ‘50s (1998), and The Rockin’ ‘60s (1999). Since joining SABR, he has focused on researching baseball in the nineteenth century, particularly 1877—1881. He has contributed to Nineteenth Century Notes, The Baseball Research Journal, The National Pastime, and SABR’s BioProject.

LOU HERNANDEZ is the author of three baseball histories. He resides in South Florida and roots for the Marlins.

CHUCK HILDEBRANDT has served as chair of SABR’s Baseball and the Media Committee since 2013 and has been a SABR member since 1988. Chuck lives with his lovely wife Terrie in Chicago, where as an ex-pat Tigers fan he compensates for his loss with Cubs season tickets.

JEREMY ASHTON HOUSKA, Ph.D., is an Assistant Professor of Psychology at Centenary College in Hackettstown, NJ. An experimental psychologist, he conducts most of his research in the laboratory and within the realms of cognitive and social psychology. Houska roots for his hometown Dodgers but has built allegiances to the Cubs and Mets as a result of his relocations and his preference for NL baseball.

JEFF KATZ is the author of Split Season:1981—Fernandomania, the Bronx Zoo and the Strike that Saved Baseball (Thomas Dunne Books). After 16 years in Chicago trading options at the CBOE, Katz and his family moved to Cooperstown, where he currently is mayor. You can reach him at jkkatz@stny.rr.com and follow Split Season on Twitter @SplitSeason1981

FRANCIS KINLAW has contributed to 15 SABR convention publications (the number of double plays grounded into by Ernie Banks during the Cubs’ memorable 1969 season) and attended 19 SABR conventions (Banks’ doubles total that year). A member of SABR since 1983, he resides in Greensboro, North Carolina and writes extensively about baseball, football, and college basketball.

MARK RANDALL, an award-winning journalist, has for the past 15 years worked at newspapers in Massachusetts, New Mexico, Florida, Utah, Arizona, Alabama, and Utah. He has lived in northeast Arkansas for the past nine years and currently covers local government for the West Memphis Evening Times. Although originally from Massachusetts, he was raised by his grandfather as a New York Yankees fan. While not a hateful person, he absolutely hates the Boston Red Sox. His articles about George Kell and Wally Moon have been published in the Baseball Research Journal.

HERM KRABBENHOFT joined SABR in 1981. Herm has received SABR Baseball Research Awards for his articles in Baseball Quarterly Reviews on the “Ultimate Grand Slam Homers” Project, with Jim Smith for their articles in BQR on their “Triple Plays” Project, and for his Baseball Research Journal articles determining accurate RBI records for Lou Gehrig, Hank Greenberg, and Babe Ruth.

DAVID KRELL is the author of Our Bums: The Brooklyn Dodgers in History, Memory and Popular Culture. David has also written for Memories and Dreams (the official magazine of the National Baseball Hall of Fame), the Baseball Research Journal, and the New York State Bar Association’s Entertainment, Arts and Sports Law Journal.

JEFF LAING lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico and is the author of Bud Fowler: Baseball's First Black Professional.

BRYAN MCKENNA grew up and lives in Baltimore, not too far from the old Memorial Stadium. His upcoming work focuses on the beginning of the game in Baltimore, the 1860s.

JOE NIESE is a librarian from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. He has written two books: Burleigh Grimes: Baseball's Last Legal Spitballer and Handy Andy: The Andy Pafko Story.

SAM PATHY is a public librarian and a native Chicagoan. He is the author of Wrigley Field Year By Year: A Century at the Friendly Confines. He lives in Worthington, OH.

ERIC ROBINSON, a graduate of the University of North Texas, works in education and lives in Fort Worth, TX. He focuses his research on Central Texas blackball history, pre-MLB Texas baseball history, and baseball in pop culture. Eric has discovered that his grandmother’s neighbor played for the 1933 Brooklyn Dodgers. His website is www.lyndonbaseballjohnson.com.

JOHN ROSENGREN is the award-winning author of eight books, including Hank Greenberg: The Hero of Heroes. You can find him at www.johnrosengren.net.

BRYAN SODERHOLM-DIFATTE, a frequent contributor to SABR publications and presenter at SABR conferences, writes the blog “Baseball Historical Insight.” The 1967 American League pennant race was the first he followed closely through day-to-day perusal of the box scores and standings. He rooted for the ’67 White Sox because he liked the excitement of close, low-scoring games.

MARK SOUDER resides in Fort Wayne, Indiana, which he represented in the United States Congress for 16 years. An active leader during the baseball steroids hearings, Souder criticized one slugger for refusing to talk about the past to an oversight hearing but then told a famous pitcher, “It is better not to talk about the past then to lie about the past.”

A SABR member since 1990, MARK S. STERNMAN has written for The Inside Game, the SABR BioProject, and The Miracle Braves of 1914: Boston's Original Worst-to-First World Series Champions.

JOSEPH WANCHO lives in Westlake, Ohio and is a lifelong Cleveland Indians fan. He has been a SABR member since 2005 and serves as Chair of the Minor League Research Committee. He edited the Bio Project’s Book on the 1954 Cleveland Indians, Pitching to the Pennant (Nebraska Press, 2014).

SUZANNE WRIGHT is a writer for Field of Dreams Ghost Players and an independent filmmaker with DreamCatcher Productions who has written and edited for the Field of Dreams’ Ghost Player newsletter since 2008. Wright has also co-authored the books Travels with Ghosts and Other Tales and St. Mary’s: The Finest Church West of the Mississippi. Suzanne Wright is a new member of the SABR Field of Dreams Chapter.

A SABR member since 2006, MORT ZACHTER is the author of two books, Dough: A Memoir and Gil Hodges: A Hall of Fame Life, the second of which was published earlier this year by the University of Nebraska Press. He lives In Princeton, NJ and can be reached at mortzachter@gmail.com .