tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56500161718094900552024-03-04T20:52:35.182-08:00Uncle Scoopy's BallparkGreg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-8620944850352355322022-03-24T22:18:00.455-07:002023-01-06T18:33:15.894-08:00Leon "Lee" Riley<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzj_U_e27DfJowKm5SprKIQ_WJ7xPHVLD-fW1VGQ-kWVKiM6t_2AwC0GxqiVXK0yHNcesZVnKLDN5opjxbP47FEIhmPtIpkeoaMOm38J_L_TCQ5bSpR38MAy8cGOSKD-r_YUqkhVbcg_ITZO5I4c8NnfGivrEPYeNbtuE5pNcyowRxEHAHb6CzXcidjQ/s568/LeonRiley.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="568" data-original-width="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzj_U_e27DfJowKm5SprKIQ_WJ7xPHVLD-fW1VGQ-kWVKiM6t_2AwC0GxqiVXK0yHNcesZVnKLDN5opjxbP47FEIhmPtIpkeoaMOm38J_L_TCQ5bSpR38MAy8cGOSKD-r_YUqkhVbcg_ITZO5I4c8NnfGivrEPYeNbtuE5pNcyowRxEHAHb6CzXcidjQ/s16000/LeonRiley.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">In the HBO series Winning Time, the actor playing Pat Riley, the ultra-successful coach of the Los Angeles Lakers, walks around with his dad's fire-damaged bat. The implication is that Pat rescued the bat after his dad had tried to burn it. The dad in question was outfielder Leon (Lee) Riley, whose story was really emblematic of an era in American sports that no longer exists. From the 19th century until about the 1960s, it was possible to be a career minor league ballplayer, thrilling small-town fans with athletic heroics in the summer, while working anonymous, pedestrian jobs in the off-season. Lee Riley was such a man.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGAfFS9B03leLiGT0ClJgm5297bQV_3TzD0sRIj4O4iLKjf2TMrHXmY14NMHteFV_kX6U8YkxYkUpmX7P4xcFsMeqKqJqkwgnNiMIxieOSyOMkUsmBLW8yLTiIWYliPMFAzdq8U7Pn6worGjzKoB7CaQRXBtNadznQ00ebTMbjdo-4p5UG5ubOoKJg0Q/s719/The_Kingston_Whig_Standard_Thu__Nov_15__1928_.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="300" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGAfFS9B03leLiGT0ClJgm5297bQV_3TzD0sRIj4O4iLKjf2TMrHXmY14NMHteFV_kX6U8YkxYkUpmX7P4xcFsMeqKqJqkwgnNiMIxieOSyOMkUsmBLW8yLTiIWYliPMFAzdq8U7Pn6worGjzKoB7CaQRXBtNadznQ00ebTMbjdo-4p5UG5ubOoKJg0Q/w168-h400/The_Kingston_Whig_Standard_Thu__Nov_15__1928_.jpg" width="168" /></a>His career got off to a promising start at age 20, when he found himself in single-A ball in his first year as a professional, by-passing all the lower levels except for a very brief stint (23 games) in class D. In his first full season in the tough Western League, he tore it up at the plate, batting .370 with a plethora of extra base hits.</p><div style="text-align: justify;">He performed so well at such a young age that he attracted the attention of baseball's premiere strategist, Connie Mack, whose Philadelphia A's were just about to overtake Babe Ruth's Yankees as the best team in the American League. Mack purchased the young star's contract (see article to the left) on a conditional basis, but <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn7bXNUIMujMbcgmP6H7MV8wjY19CFN_F8bRQ5B3W1-jwHQKsIFd9uiJXs-JZ24KiYh-bmmxF8ZYVVRc2xOBNr1fP9W0ejCHzoxhQ_lGVwgAMdnBrn2Fg476UMbmI_ohN0kx3go26ZnXkvj8XZjwr86-POCd5sFzJMrWoMreTUxU4pTtF0z6aKIpmpuQ/s802/Collyer_s_Eye_Sat__Jul_13__1929_.jpg">ultimately changed his mind</a>. The A's were already deep in talent, and Riley needed more seasoning. He was a gifted natural hitter, but he had a lot to learn about the game. Moreover, his arm was weak, and his fielding was inept. <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/riley/Democrat_and_Chronicle_Tue__Jul_5__1932_.jpg">As one observer put it</a>, "He batted .375 but his fielding average was just about the same. He couldn't field pumpkins if they were tied in a sack." </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Riley understood his limitations, and he was willing to put in the time and effort to overcome them. It took longer than expected, but he worked and worked on his fielding until he earned <a href="Http://www.johnny-web.com/riley/The_Omaha_Evening_Bee_News_Sat__Jul_2__1932_.jpg">a well-deserved promotion to the Rochester Red Wings</a>, the top farm club of the St. Louis Cardinals, with his major league dream within his grasp. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">And then he ran smack into the Peter Principle, which suggests that each person rises until he reaches his level of incompetence. For Lee Riley that level was the International League. He batted only .276 with no power at Rochester, in an age when just about every major league outfielder batted .300 or better against actual major league pitching. It was especially difficult to break into the St. Louis Cardinals' line-up. The 1930 St. Louis Cardinals were the highest-scoring NL team of the 20th century. They had 13 players with 100 at bats or more, and twelve of them batted in the .300s.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">At that point in his career, Lee had had the bad fortune to get his two potential major league opportunities with the two teams that needed him the least! When Leon Riley went to Rochester, the hard-hitting Cardinals were the defending World Series champions, and it was soon obvious that Lee could not fit into their major league plans. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">How did his performance drop so dramatically from class-A ball to AA? Lee himself said that it was because he couldn't hit lefties at that level. That formed the basis for one of Tommy Lasorda's best anecdotes, as recounted <a href="https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1988-07-13-sp-5435-story.html">in the L.A. Times, July 13, 1988</a>:</p><blockquote><p style="text-align: justify;">When Tom Lasorda was pitching for Schenectady of the Canadian-American League in 1948, the manager was Lee Riley, father of Laker Coach Pat Riley.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">"We were playing Gloversville, and I’ve got ‘em beat, 2-1, and it’s in the top of the ninth inning. As I go out to pitch, Riley, who was coaching third, came to the mound, picked up the ball to hand it to me and he says to me, 'You’re in good shape. You’ve got three left-handed hitters in a row.’ And I was a left-handed pitcher, which meant things should be easy.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">First left-hander doubles. Next left-hander triples. Next left-hander doubles. And now they’re winning, 3-2. And he comes to take me out, and as he starts to take the ball from my hand, he looks at me and he says, 'Know why I couldn’t hit in the major leagues?' I thought that was a very unusual question, but I said, 'No, Skip. No, why?' And he said, 'Because I couldn’t hit left-handed pitchers. But if you’d been there, I’d have been a star.'"</p></blockquote><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoG9Qw6btQQQrn45QfQQGL0QX121JhXBzbzeUkwQdj3teEHlLfuvi7M8ZIUNZSK-9Y5ImTCPhGmMb1k3IEQasX1fRv7YHsUoa0Xl7QeWhWvI2PqWUZbDpDDxXEAEIPUQrVfvk_LLhzhz5RsgYXj1mqqsAzT6p10k8dtIoD_bjw8dPRUuoU2ARVXhdoTA/s500/Democrat_and_Chronicle_Tue__Jul_5__1932_2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="295" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoG9Qw6btQQQrn45QfQQGL0QX121JhXBzbzeUkwQdj3teEHlLfuvi7M8ZIUNZSK-9Y5ImTCPhGmMb1k3IEQasX1fRv7YHsUoa0Xl7QeWhWvI2PqWUZbDpDDxXEAEIPUQrVfvk_LLhzhz5RsgYXj1mqqsAzT6p10k8dtIoD_bjw8dPRUuoU2ARVXhdoTA/s320/Democrat_and_Chronicle_Tue__Jul_5__1932_2.jpg" width="189" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But an equally cogent explanation was given by sportswriter Whitney Martin: <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/riley/The_Morning_News_Tue__Apr_9__1940_.jpg">Lee could not hit the curve at that level</a>. </div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Whatever the explanation for Lee's failure, the fact remained that the Cards had sent him to the Rochester Red Wings with high hopes and much fanfare, but were so disappointed with him that they optioned him out even when <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/riley/Democrat_and_Chronicle_Sun__Dec_18__1932_.jpg">it left the Rochester club desperately short of outfielders</a>.</p><div style="text-align: justify;">The Cards would soon match their offensive juggernaut with some great pitching in the form of the Dean brothers, so the legendary Gas House Gang was formed, and another championship banner would soon be flying in St. Louis. By then, Lee Riley would be languishing in a C league.</div><div><p style="text-align: justify;">That's how his life went. He'd have a couple of good years, earn another promotion, then find himself back at a lower level than when he started. By the time 1938 rolled around, he was a 31-year-old veteran of 12 minor league seasons, but was in D ball with the 19 year olds, playing full-time while also acting as the team's manager. </p><p><br /></p><p></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tGvpN4WzwEUd0K-_8wC_Hyv74I90rjeRa6m6QdR6g2PhXXZL4islSVtGrCehhrOt9Ty40kPCrkWDDfVin-ffdcYl-2TEnIWwwcTBwIsyHHBCOZ9iH_P5jBjoWE1nluTNellih7MmW9dT_A_5dTb3bDYVZU6A6TtHIvIgkvAWQ8W70CkM1I9idS6Q8A/s543/Beatrice_Daily_Sun_Wed__Apr_7__1937_2.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="543" data-original-width="300" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7tGvpN4WzwEUd0K-_8wC_Hyv74I90rjeRa6m6QdR6g2PhXXZL4islSVtGrCehhrOt9Ty40kPCrkWDDfVin-ffdcYl-2TEnIWwwcTBwIsyHHBCOZ9iH_P5jBjoWE1nluTNellih7MmW9dT_A_5dTb3bDYVZU6A6TtHIvIgkvAWQ8W70CkM1I9idS6Q8A/w111-h200/Beatrice_Daily_Sun_Wed__Apr_7__1937_2.jpg" width="111" /></a></p><div style="text-align: justify;">His D-league assignment, with a Dodgers farm club in the Nebraska State League, happened to be very close to his own home town, and <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/riley/Beatrice_Daily_Sun_Wed__Apr_7__1937_.jpg">it could not have been a more popular homecoming</a>, particularly because he once again absolutely tore it up at that low level, batting .365 and .372 in his two years there.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">His hot bat had granted him his fondest wish, yet another promotion to the International League as a player, this time with a Dodgers farm club in Baltimore. Unfortunately, that wish had unintended consequences, like the ones in the classic cautionary tale, <a href="https://americanliterature.com/author/w-w-jacobs/short-story/the-monkeys-paw">"The Monkey's Paw."</a> The fulfillment of that wish came with an ironic and crushing twist. Riley had stalled out his evolving managerial career for a pipe dream - the hope that he could now somehow hit International League pitching, despite the harsh lesson of his prior failure. The result was even more disappointing than his first trip through that league. In 38 games he batted .212 with one homer. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">It was back to square one again.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">By then he must have understood that a shot at the majors was only a dream, but baseball was his job and he was no quitter, so he accepted another demotion, and resolved to seek a managerial job in earnest. He soon found himself as a player/manager in a C league, where he had his best season to date, batting .391 with a league-leading 32 homers in the obscure Canadian-American League.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Given his track record, a solid performance at such a low level would not normally have led him back on a path to the majors, especially since his subsequent performance was disappointing, but fate intervened, in the form of Adolph Hitler. America needed able-bodied young men to fight in WW2, including young ballplayers. While many of the best and youngest major leaguers went to bat for Uncle Sam, the desperate major league teams were looking for bodies to fill out their depleted squads. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">By 1944 and 1945, after years of war, roster spots had opened for all sorts of players who would not otherwise have been able to qualify for major league squads. There was a one-armed outfielder (<a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/g/graype01.shtml">Pete Gray</a>, below center), a 15-year-old pitcher (<a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/n/nuxhajo01.shtml">Joe Nuxhall</a>, below right), and a variety of older players who would otherwise have been retired, like <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/wanerpa01.shtml">Paul Waner</a>, once a great star with the Pirates, hanging on in wartime as a grizzled Brooklyn Dodger (below left). In those segregated, pre-Robinson years, the Cincinnati Reds even snuck <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/d/dela_to01.shtml">a black pitcher</a> onto their roster, and nobody really paid attention.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdj6vMuc40a2-Zzy8jBQwkZ63EclURbTpAQ6dJ1rOfFf_IHwodLZUUAAR_psEbWZ96vA1Ma8HVxIAj2OfuDAwnGFk3AUcDl-XdOuyxUrtklCoLAyLEtxHKVgvVNS4ydx-00nsRDIuYmWkPVWOb6yIbCtd9mn1LmyCUDtpjoee2PD771HLzZtpma0jIXQ/s600/1944.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="196" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdj6vMuc40a2-Zzy8jBQwkZ63EclURbTpAQ6dJ1rOfFf_IHwodLZUUAAR_psEbWZ96vA1Ma8HVxIAj2OfuDAwnGFk3AUcDl-XdOuyxUrtklCoLAyLEtxHKVgvVNS4ydx-00nsRDIuYmWkPVWOb6yIbCtd9mn1LmyCUDtpjoee2PD771HLzZtpma0jIXQ/s16000/1944.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;">During the desperate hunt for major league ballplayers in the late war years, the primary beneficiaries were career minor leaguers desperate for a shot at the big show.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Players like Leon Riley.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOnGc0I2rMRd9WHjA9mFwEm4W44Y9HtTg6h9GJOuGOmku_Wz33M-b0441qyifNdrZoLA74d5JX_HHeMVf6vOxeFjjamvKq6Tc1_GWbwFsK093j5ssGSkMTwteB6g6izPGHWPe-Qb09YeOFjUycUJMFSAA7r7c6XN6Vecw7VDz2F4pyswuaKI11WLcSWw/s184/s-l1600.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="184" data-original-width="179" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOnGc0I2rMRd9WHjA9mFwEm4W44Y9HtTg6h9GJOuGOmku_Wz33M-b0441qyifNdrZoLA74d5JX_HHeMVf6vOxeFjjamvKq6Tc1_GWbwFsK093j5ssGSkMTwteB6g6izPGHWPe-Qb09YeOFjUycUJMFSAA7r7c6XN6Vecw7VDz2F4pyswuaKI11WLcSWw/s1600/s-l1600.jpg" width="179" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There have rarely been less likely major leaguers. In 1942 he had batted .204 in a B league. In 1943 he was working in a defense plant. By 1944 he was 37 years old, had been out of pro baseball entirely in the preceding year, had never succeeded at any level higher than single-A ball, and had not even had a good single-A season in about a decade. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He had, however, the most important qualification any baseball player could have in 1944: he was available. He could not be drafted because he was too old and had a family to support, so at an age when most major leaguers have retired, he became a rookie on the 1944 Phillies.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The popular film Field of Dreams tells the story of a promising young major leaguer called Archibald <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/g/grahamo01.shtml">"Moonlight" Graham</a>. He was more commonly called "Doc" Graham by his teammates, because he mixed baseball with medical school,and eventually became a successful and much-loved doctor. Archie Graham once got the thrill of standing in the outfield as a New York Giant in a major league game, but always regretted that he never got a chance to show what he could do in the big leagues with a bat in his hand. While Graham had to have been disappointed by his career trajectory in baseball, he was always able to maintain the belief that he could have done the job with the Giants, if given the chance. Leon Riley was not so fortunate. After two decades of trying to get a shot at major league pitchers, he found out once and for all that he really couldn't hit them. Despite the fact that he was facing only the diluted wartime pitching of 1944,<a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/r/rileyle01.shtml"> he batted an embarrassing .083</a>.</div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZs2GLv5re2AXDgTcNY0d26lG2bFIZz2TbEt-T32htSwWf-rg5m_t6x0WDTckS5P4U40Wvtogl3rGEG9MlaBoIbBjrNLxIkJ2pt4MUbKz2Qk5lE7H7Npzp_0b-0Tv916vDP_l2lblmzrt3SUQ3iXEeZTyzvhcckP3H2GV-_XRF_w4NqsCPcih2jLxbIA/s180/leeriley2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="155" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZs2GLv5re2AXDgTcNY0d26lG2bFIZz2TbEt-T32htSwWf-rg5m_t6x0WDTckS5P4U40Wvtogl3rGEG9MlaBoIbBjrNLxIkJ2pt4MUbKz2Qk5lE7H7Npzp_0b-0Tv916vDP_l2lblmzrt3SUQ3iXEeZTyzvhcckP3H2GV-_XRF_w4NqsCPcih2jLxbIA/s1600/leeriley2.jpg" width="155" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Phils demoted him <a href="https://prestonjg.files.wordpress.com/2013/09/riley.jpg">to the Utica Blue Sox</a>, roughly the American equivalent of exile to Siberia. </div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">The next year he found himself back in D ball yet again, playing against kids who could be his children, starting from the lowest player-manager level for the third time in his career, hoping once again to move up the managerial ladder. He was not a man who gave up easily, so he stubbornly lasted five more years in the low minors as a player/manager in the Phillies' farm system. As a player, he would never again reach as high as single-A, the level where he had played in his very first year, nearly a quarter of a century earlier.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">When he finally stopped playing, he stayed in the Phillies' organization as a full-time minor league manager, and was awarded some promotions until he was finally back in class A, as manager of the Phillies' Eastern League teams in 1950 and 1951. The Phillies did a bit of manager-swapping in 1952, and Riley found himself managing the Wilmington Blue Rocks, who posed a respectable 72-66 record in the Interstate League. Unfortunately, the economics of baseball were changing. The Wilmington Blue Rocks went belly up, and the entire Interstate League collapsed. Facing a dwindling bottom line, the Phillies announced after the 1952 season that they were trimming their farm system from 12 teams to 9. Along with many others, Leon Riley lost his job that day, his baseball odyssey complete after 11 years as a manager, and a playing career that spanned 22 summers. <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/register/player.fcgi?id=riley-001leo">He had accumulated more than 2,400 hits in pro baseball, including about 900 for extra bases, in the process of compiling a .314 lifetime average</a>. At various times he had led minor leagues in doubles, triples, home runs, walks, RBI and batting average. He had once managed a team to a pennant. He had always done what was asked of him, having played D ball at age 20, then again at age 30, and finally at age 39. Despite his loyalty and hard work, he found himself unemployed at 46, with no non-baseball job skills. Feeling betrayed and abandoned, he went up to his attic and discarded all of his memorabilia dating back to the mid-20s, symbolically casting baseball out of his life, as documented by the eyewitness testimony of his son, the future Lakers coach. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">And that brings us back to the scene described at the beginning of this article. As the story goes, Pat Riley rescued his dad's bat that day, preserved it, and treasured what it meant to his family's history.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">---</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Two of Leon Riley's children became professional athletes, albeit neither of them in baseball. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUY-YXv7yq_0FHLPxNIvLpKvGH-LpTE3ARLRilHW9AyPMAoyi3xDAJYZr-FS0qGBdhE5d_68lLXROYg8CQ1duBXyEILNZvnOuGHfAWO3Z3TUfTnJGFFTB4o41ibvrL8L6VNhEz-J3Wjblr04ddJUJg67v0i-8yiN8Xhu3SsW6p-eGJo8VeLFU-r89RCw/s881/1_102318.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="881" data-original-width="596" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUY-YXv7yq_0FHLPxNIvLpKvGH-LpTE3ARLRilHW9AyPMAoyi3xDAJYZr-FS0qGBdhE5d_68lLXROYg8CQ1duBXyEILNZvnOuGHfAWO3Z3TUfTnJGFFTB4o41ibvrL8L6VNhEz-J3Wjblr04ddJUJg67v0i-8yiN8Xhu3SsW6p-eGJo8VeLFU-r89RCw/w135-h200/1_102318.jpg" width="135" /></a></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Pat Riley was a solid back-up player on one of the greatest basketball teams ever assembled, <a href="https://www.basketball-reference.com/teams/LAL/1972.html">the 1971-72 Los Angeles Lakers</a>, who finished the regular season 69-13 and breezed through the playoffs to the championship. Using their peak roster, if all players had been in their primes at the time, their starting five might have been the greatest ever assembled: Wilt Chamberlain, Elgin Baylor, Jerry West, Gail Goodrich and Happy Hairston. Pat Riley wasn't about to crack that line-up, but <a href="https://www.basketball-reference.com/players/r/rileypa01.html">he was a dependable role player who carved out a 10-year career in the NBA</a>. </p><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">I'm sure that you already know about <a href="https://www.basketball-reference.com/coaches/rileypa01c.html">his coaching career</a>, which is one of the <span style="text-align: left;"> greatest in history.</span></p></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkAhq8E5JfB8-OQstE70eraZc4NlCJ6lfE4r_IDnplh1Q7C8KScE15PwWeo_89Lgkqkp_w_CYTNUWh7wx-DGu1sLDGAAXXcxwzauwO6XTp75zAWULMwIWFfONxLvT8Cz4QnRYjZRhUUxIkXSuufk-8ttrlJP9axep-fiCMx2bp5F_gmeArT1T8yHzbw/s639/1963-Fleer-19-Lee-Riley.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="454" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkAhq8E5JfB8-OQstE70eraZc4NlCJ6lfE4r_IDnplh1Q7C8KScE15PwWeo_89Lgkqkp_w_CYTNUWh7wx-DGu1sLDGAAXXcxwzauwO6XTp75zAWULMwIWFfONxLvT8Cz4QnRYjZRhUUxIkXSuufk-8ttrlJP9axep-fiCMx2bp5F_gmeArT1T8yHzbw/w142-h200/1963-Fleer-19-Lee-Riley.jpg" width="142" /></a></p><span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Pat's much older brother, Lee Riley, chose football as his primary sport. <a href="https://www.pro-football-reference.com/players/R/RileLe20.htm">He was a solid defensive back with a 7-year career in the NFL and AFL</a>, and once led the league in interceptions. </span><a href="https://www.statscrew.com/football/stats/p-rileylee001" style="text-align: left;">He was also used on special teams</a><span style="text-align: left;"> to return both punts and kickoffs.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">After his pro career, he left the sports word and became a corporate vice-president.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /><br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></p><div><br /></div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-27223695004944809172018-03-07T02:15:00.000-08:002019-07-19T03:47:35.665-07:00Whither the complete game? And why?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: JUSTIFY;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">There always have been, and there
will always be, those who long for the way baseball used to be. In
many ways, I’m also a member of the Good Old Days Club. I miss a
lot of things about the old days: the quirky and unique stadiums,
the colorful personalities, the day games, the varying offensive
strategies, and more. But I’m always willing to look at the facts
to see if the old days really were better. Most of the time, they
were not. The years of segregation kept many of the best players
out of the game. The quirky urban ballparks made a lot of
players look much better (e.g. <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.fcgi?id=kleinch01&year=Career&t=b">Chuck Klein</a>) or worse (e.g. <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.fcgi?id=gosligo01&year=Career&t=b">Goose
Goslin</a>) than they really were. Contact hitting turned out to
be overrated in terms of run production, and the alleged damage
done by a batter’s high strikeout rate turned out to be greatly
exaggerated. The tried-and-true strategies like sacrifice bunts
turned out to be often tried, but rarely true.<br />
<br />
And then there was the mystique of the complete game. Since the
dawn of professional baseball, each generation of pitchers and
fans has lamented the decline of character in the next generation
of pitchers. <br />
<br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFV6YDf1ttY-IHr6jxFXAX7NLHWBtVqRXfiPMAjJprBcfjzPUmY8mvSasThyR7jhczv_73rDjXFLlSrIOJbj468RwSeiuih_WMVMCghNrVPMkH1vPcWmdrtCs_wGAGB2Zl3geAaS4bcP0z/s1600/gibson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="518" data-original-width="1120" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFV6YDf1ttY-IHr6jxFXAX7NLHWBtVqRXfiPMAjJprBcfjzPUmY8mvSasThyR7jhczv_73rDjXFLlSrIOJbj468RwSeiuih_WMVMCghNrVPMkH1vPcWmdrtCs_wGAGB2Zl3geAaS4bcP0z/s640/gibson.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">
<br />
<br />
Today’s old men harken back to the iron arms of their youth in the
1950s and 1960s, when mighty combatants like <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/spahnwa01.shtml">Warren Spahn</a> and <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/g/gibsobo01.shtml">Bob
Gibson</a> would finish what they started. Spahnie pitched 382
complete games and led the league nine times, including seven in a
row. And none of those seasons were his most impressive, in which
he completed 24 games in 32 starts. Gibson once had
back-to-back seasons of 28 complete games, and didn’t even lead
the league in the earlier of the two, when <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/m/maricju01.shtml">Juan Marichal</a> completed
30. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc_K5-uX_q_zEkMIFr31VoDOSOQRle-xb4OklPd7YfLLZ8VHdaFj8XShK3KY23lL-GXsGbLWdyHeSgJvZlddnS_6I3RJoODQSPobAcR_fi8kPuy9-y6fzQekokJOcGkYs7yRA_doMaW8Gr/s1600/cy_young.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="231" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc_K5-uX_q_zEkMIFr31VoDOSOQRle-xb4OklPd7YfLLZ8VHdaFj8XShK3KY23lL-GXsGbLWdyHeSgJvZlddnS_6I3RJoODQSPobAcR_fi8kPuy9-y6fzQekokJOcGkYs7yRA_doMaW8Gr/s1600/cy_young.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
But it’s important to realize that the old men sitting in the
stands in the 1960s thought the pitchers of that day were
soft. They would lament the passing of the true warriors
of an earlier time, men who would complete almost all of their
starts while also making relief appearances as needed. <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/c/chesbja01.shtml">Happy
Jack Chesbro</a> completed 48 games one year, while many others of his
time topped the 40 mark, including <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/y/youngcy01.shtml">Cy Young</a> and the aptly
monikered <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/m/mcginjo01.shtml">Iron Man McGinnity</a>. To hear those old fellas talking in
the stands in 1960, why ol’ <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/j/johnswa01.shtml">Walter Johnson</a> would complete 38 games
in a season while throwing hundreds of pitches in each contest,
all of which surely must have been traveling 110 miles an hour.<br />
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsfNqLwBWYFbyQ73VhE_ygThTyjsgdEmwzpaSVQG7QAF2qfn7UqUvYs_sBrDOnQu3nRqCUFjy3Yv5EByrEelnLXcvmegd3b-T5nLIn5SgC0dwGcBKcqBPZjIOthG7swGYSQae5wJANTUCz/s1600/Radbourn-Old-Hoss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="330" data-original-width="220" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsfNqLwBWYFbyQ73VhE_ygThTyjsgdEmwzpaSVQG7QAF2qfn7UqUvYs_sBrDOnQu3nRqCUFjy3Yv5EByrEelnLXcvmegd3b-T5nLIn5SgC0dwGcBKcqBPZjIOthG7swGYSQae5wJANTUCz/s1600/Radbourn-Old-Hoss.jpg" /></a></div>
And yet when Jack Chesbro was on the mound in 1904, tossing his 48
complete games, there were old men in those stands as well, and
they would remind each other of the 1879 season when <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/whitewi01.shtml">Will White</a>
started 75 games for the Cincinnati Reds and finished every single
one of them. Upon hearing that, another of the old-time “cranks”
in those wooden stands would argue that White was OK, but <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/r/radboch01.shtml">Old Hoss Radbourn</a> was a real man. He not only completed all 73 of his starts in 1884, but won
60 of them. Moreover, the Old Hoss was
virtually the team’s only pitcher from July 23rd on. He not only
completed his regular starts, but also took everybody else's turn
in the rotation, and completed those as well. During one stretch
between August 9th and September 24th, Rad started 28 of the
team’s 29 games, completing every one and winning 24. <br />
<br /> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjECxpRa66LIkxT0M3lV3aNIJqRYE2Xvw3UZeJMGKSkKZB8qmpMeIxIhFGC5ML879seCZ-cuD3HmKVTN97AJYqqFSrqA3SzyvjHTrPM1MbhUDO7ZptfHO2T1EHaSprDFTqt9Vj7fJRoNa1k/s1600/Will_White.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="156" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjECxpRa66LIkxT0M3lV3aNIJqRYE2Xvw3UZeJMGKSkKZB8qmpMeIxIhFGC5ML879seCZ-cuD3HmKVTN97AJYqqFSrqA3SzyvjHTrPM1MbhUDO7ZptfHO2T1EHaSprDFTqt9Vj7fJRoNa1k/s1600/Will_White.jpg" /></a></div>
None of the all-time records for complete games will ever be
challenged. You may discount Will White’s single season high of
75 because he was pitching underhand from 45 feet. You may
disallow Old Hoss’s season of 73 complete games because it was
still from the old pitching distance. And feel free to be a
skeptic and toss out <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/r/rusieam01.shtml">Amos Rusie</a>’s season of 50 complete games,
which is the record at the modern pitching distance, because it
was in the deadball era. Fine. Now you are still left with the
fact that <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/f/fellebo01.shtml">Bob Feller</a> threw 36 complete games in a single
modern season. No pitcher will ever approach that again. <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/scherma01.shtml">Max
Scherzer</a> led the NL in 2017 with two complete games.<br />
<br />
The career record is even more daunting. Cy Young threw 749
complete games in his career. The active career leader, as I
write this, is <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/sabatc.01.shtml">CC Sabathia</a> with 38 complete games in 17
seasons. Young’s total of 749 is the least approachable
record in all of baseball. Do you think that’s exaggerating?
Consider this: it is very unlikely that any current or
future pitcher will reach as many as 75 complete games in a career, so it
is literally true that from now on nobody will reach even 10% of
Young’s total. I can’t name any other record that far out of
reach: not the <a href="https://www.newsday.com/sports/baseball/yankees/joe-dimaggio-s-56-game-hitting-streak-remains-an-unbreakable-record-1.11788688">DiMaggio hit streak</a>, the <a href="http://www.baltimoresun.com/sports/orioles/cal-ripken-jr/bal-ripken-rests-after-2-632-consecutive-games-sits-out-first-game-since-may-82-20150831-story.html">Ripken playing streak</a>, Cy
Young’s 511 wins, nor <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/r/ryanno01.shtml">Nolan Ryan</a>’s 5714 Ks and 2795 BBs. Some of
those records are assuredly safe, and the others are unlikely to
be broken, but modern players can easily get within 10% of them.
But Young’s CG total will probably never be matched or topped
again even if baseball's high sheriffs add a decimal point and
make it 74.9 complete games!<br />
<br />
So is the decline of complete games a bad thing? <br />
<br />
Of course not. <br />
<br />
If pushing a starter to finish his games was the winning strategy,
people would still be doing it.<br />
<br />
To illustrate why it is not the optimal strategy, let’s consider
one of the iron men of the 1960s, Bob Gibson, who was so
intimidating that a manager wouldn’t dare to pull him out of a
game if he didn’t want to go. Was that the way to win? No. There
are two main reasons:<br />
<br />
</span>
<br />
<h2>
<span style="color: yellow; font-family: Verdana;"><b>1. Gibson, as you would expect
from a normal human being engaged in heavy exertion, <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.fcgi?id=gibsobo01&year=Career&t=p#innng::none">faded
considerably in the late innings</a><br /><br />
</b></span></h2>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">In innings 1-6, he had 7.4 Ks per 9
innings, allowing opposing batters to achieve a .613 OPS<br />
<br />
In innings 7-9, he had 6.7 Ks per 9 innings, allowing opposing
batters to achieve a .642 OPS<br />
<br />
In the 9th inning alone, opposing batters raised their OPS to
.666, and their K frequency dropped to 6.5 per 9 innings<br />
<br />
In extra innings, opposing hitters achieved a .706 OPS, and
their K frequency dropped to 6.1 per 9 innings.<br />
<br />
The average NL batter during Gibson’s career (1959-1975) had an
OPS of .693 against all pitchers so, as the game progressed, Gibson came closer and
closer to an average level. Of course it was not feasible to pull Gibson for another rotation starter, so
a mathematical average of performance against all pitchers is not indicative of who might have been able to
relieve. Relief pitchers were often failed starters in that era, as opposed to relief specialists, so
they were slightly less effective than average, allowing batters an OPS of .703 over
that same span of years. But note that Bob Gibson's performance in extra innings was even slightly below the level of an average reliever of the era, suggesting it was far below the level of the best relievers. Leaving Gibson in to complete a game in extra innings was rarely preferable to bringing in the best available
reliever.<br />
<br />
The overall decline of Gibson’s performance over the course of a
game is vividly illustrated by the following graph of Gibson’s
strikeout-to-walk ratio, inning by inning. <br />
<br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_DwswM8sXxX1E-TibT9aFNFbv8q1gEwtusqCtgjO0DZthw_Bhh3lkXHS2Ix2PAORTnoLGVsAiPDO1Ophyphenhyphen3I_b-TUW0oAF5GwYiWzKQR5-t6Fb4Gnp902hMH87MObO8WGnSG07Zysgg9_W/s1600/Gibson-k-bb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="439" data-original-width="726" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_DwswM8sXxX1E-TibT9aFNFbv8q1gEwtusqCtgjO0DZthw_Bhh3lkXHS2Ix2PAORTnoLGVsAiPDO1Ophyphenhyphen3I_b-TUW0oAF5GwYiWzKQR5-t6Fb4Gnp902hMH87MObO8WGnSG07Zysgg9_W/s640/Gibson-k-bb.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>
<br />
<h2>
<span style="color: yellow; font-family: Verdana;">2. Gibson was a great pitcher
overall, but <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.fcgi?id=gibsobo01&year=Career&t=p#plato::none">his platoon splits</a> were astronomically large.</span></h2>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">First let us give him his due, and that due
is substantial. In the entire history of major league
baseball since the dawn of the lively ball era, among all pitchers
who have retired 3000 or more right-handed batters, there has never been any
pitcher more effective against right handers than Bob Gibson. Never. Not one. No
starter. No reliever. The top 25 are shown below.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghr0gPLEKDXewXO5oV-irVJ2QNsiRweUSAtqoLgY35F1EhY8_PwgdboHAu15Mh5IgIMNMdhyZH54a7nrnqLQsVwIe81Hm-AiAxI5Z0LrXeEk6KHbRlrvHZL2CGjjAsmdfHzRHmsTY6usbO/s1600/Gibson-vs-RHB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="653" data-original-width="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghr0gPLEKDXewXO5oV-irVJ2QNsiRweUSAtqoLgY35F1EhY8_PwgdboHAu15Mh5IgIMNMdhyZH54a7nrnqLQsVwIe81Hm-AiAxI5Z0LrXeEk6KHbRlrvHZL2CGjjAsmdfHzRHmsTY6usbO/s1600/Gibson-vs-RHB.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana;">Footnote: a great Houston fireballer, <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/r/richaj.01.shtml">J.R. Richard</a>, was slightly more effective than Gibson, but fell below the specified threshold of batters retired. Gibson did beat everyone else who is off the chart, including <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.fcgi?id=riverma01&year=Career&t=p#plato::none">Mariano Rivera</a>.</span>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">The following is a rundown of the batting averages of the greatest
right-handed hitters of his era against Gibson.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=aaronha01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Hank Aaron</a><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.215<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=clemero01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Roberto
Clemente</a><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.208<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=bankser01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Ernie Banks</a><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.229<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=mayswi01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Willie Mays</a><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.196<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=robinfr02&pitcher=gibsobo01">Frank Robinson</a><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.229<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=cepedor01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Orlando Cepeda</a><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.222<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=allendi01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Dick Allen</a><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.211<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=perezto01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Tony Perez</a><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.121<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=benchjo01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Johnny Bench</a><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.204<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=schmimi01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Mike Schmidt</a><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.214<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=davisto02&pitcher=gibsobo01">Tommy Davis</a><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.167<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">
<br />
If you are a thoughtful fan and have been following the article
closely up to this point, you are probably wondering something
like this: "If Gibson was the best pitcher of all time against
right-handed batters, and so many batters are right-handed, why is
he not considered the greatest pitcher ever to toe the rubber?"<br />
<br />
The answer will probably surprise you. Against left-handed
batters, Bob Gibson was an average pitcher. Please note how I
worded that. I didn't say "he wasn't as strong against lefties" or
"he was less successful against lefties than against right-handed
hitters." The harsh reality was that he was just an average pitcher
against left-handed hitters. Even more important when considering in-game
strategies, even an average <u>left-handed pitcher</u> was FAR more effective than
the right-handed Gibson against left-handed batters.<br />
<br />
</span>
<br />
<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">K/BB</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">BA<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">OBP<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">SLG<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">OPS<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">GIBSON VS RHB<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">3.24<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.204<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.268<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.287<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.555<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">average for
all pitchers of his era vs RHB<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">1.93<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.247<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.311<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.368<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.678<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">GIBSON VS LHB<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">1.47<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.257<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.331<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.372<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.702<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">average for
all pitchers of his era vs LHB<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">1.40<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.257<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.330<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.384<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.714<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">average for
LHP of his era vs LHB<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">2.31<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.239<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.300<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.339<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">.639<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<br />
<br />
In general, a manager would be far better off by pulling Gibson
and bringing in even an average left-handed pitcher to face a
left-handed batter. This would obviously not happen in an early
inning, since Gibson would still be needed to pitch to all those
right-handed batters still to come. But in a late inning, or extra
innings, in a clutch situation, Gibson obviously should have been
pulled for a lefty reliever against a tough left-handed hitter, for two reasons: (1) he tired
significantly as the game progressed; (2) even when not tired, he
was less effective against left-handed hitters than the average
left-handed pitcher.<br />
<br />
As opposed to the right-handed stars detailed above, many left-handed hitters hit Gibson hard. The Willies, <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=stargwi01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Stargell</a> and <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=mccovwi01&pitcher=gibsobo01">McCovey</a>, each batted .290 with power. <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=matheed01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Eddie Mathews</a> batted .326 with power. <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=hebneri01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Richie Hebner</a> batted .387 with an 1.127 OPS. <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=garrra01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Ralph Garr</a> also batted .387. <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=oliveal01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Al Oliver</a> batted .342. <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=morgajo02&pitcher=gibsobo01">Joe Morgan</a> hit .313 with power. <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=willibi01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Billy Williams</a> batted only .259, but with ten homers. Unheralded <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/play-index/batter_vs_pitcher.cgi?batter=willibi01&pitcher=gibsobo01">Dave Rader</a> batted .484 against Bob Gibson. Many other lefties and switch hitters topped the .300 mark.
<br />
<br />
And that, in a nutshell, is why relief specialists exist. Human beings get tired. The platoon differential is very real. Even if complete games posed no risk at all to the pitchers' multi-million-dollar arms, the modern strategy simply works better. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">SIDEBAR:
Is Gibson an exception to the rule? Are there other pitchers whose performance indicated that they
should have stayed in to complete most starts?<br />
<br />
Yes, but only one that I know of. Almost all pitchers have
fatigue factors and platoon differentials that make it a sound
strategy to replace them in certain game situations, but <a href="https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.fcgi?id=koufasa01&year=Career&t=p">Sandy
Koufax</a> did not. <br />
<br />
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiMvJwF9n0ZDKhtFRX9fUs5IEpJih_c1piBbhnAz8do19DMlPOGNzZBBcoNbUkT7B2x1HSHP-m4soKfMm0uS6j36HTPopWZB7JgLrhd5TLNB2MHqtWUE_KGsWeSehrdq_BWBT-qNSfaFoU/s1600/sandy-koufax-dodgers-1963-world-series-yankees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="331" data-original-width="625" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiMvJwF9n0ZDKhtFRX9fUs5IEpJih_c1piBbhnAz8do19DMlPOGNzZBBcoNbUkT7B2x1HSHP-m4soKfMm0uS6j36HTPopWZB7JgLrhd5TLNB2MHqtWUE_KGsWeSehrdq_BWBT-qNSfaFoU/s1600/sandy-koufax-dodgers-1963-world-series-yankees.jpg" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">
<br />
<br />
</span></span>
<br />
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">* He had no platoon differential at all.
Although left-handed, he held right-handed batters to a .594
OPS, and stymied left-handers equally as well (.598).</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">* He
actually improved late in the game. Batters managed a .598 OPS
against him in innings 1-6, but only .588 in innings 7-9. and
only .492 in extra innings.</span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><br />
There is simply no good explanation for those two bullet points
above. Neither of those facts should be true, but Mr. Koufax </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">appears to
have been some kind of freak of nature. It is entirely possible
that he should have pitched fewer innings, but the reasons for
that would be based on kinesiology, not performance. Pulling him
out of a lot of games might have saved his arm for a few more
years. Or not. I don't know. But I do know that there were
generally no performance-related reasons to pull him, based on
either fatigue or platoon differential. Unless he asked to be
taken out for some reason, he was always the guy you wanted on
the mound.</span></span></div>
Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-67461856355203162042018-02-20T17:47:00.000-08:002020-05-15T02:06:49.624-07:00What if Williams and DiMaggio had traded places?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
Since Ted Williams made his debut in 1939, baseball's hot stove has been fired by debates about whether Williams and Joe DiMaggio might have been even greater players if they had traded places, therefore landing each of them in a park better suited to his skills. Since we now have detailed information about how each player performed in each park since the mid-20s, it's easy enough to offer a reasonable guess about how this imaginary swap might have worked out.<br />
<br />
But the discussion probably should start by examining whether the question is even worth asking. Let's examine some of the underlying suppositions:<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">How do lefties perform in Fenway Park?</span><br />
<br />
For various hypothetical reasons, people have long assumed that Fenway Park can be a difficult offensive environment for left-handed hitters like Williams. That assumption is simply not supported by facts. Every great left-handed hitter who has played for the Red Sox in the lively ball era has performed far better in Fenway than out of it.<br />
<br />
First, consider the case of two slim, elegant outfielders who played together in the 70s: Fred Lynn and Carl Yastrzemski. Outside of Fenway they were .265 hitters with moderate power (OPS below .800 in both cases), but they terrorized opposing pitchers in Boston, especially Lynn, who hit .347 in Fenway, with an OPS over 1.000.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWRgddLEVVDTf-DvMp0NUo-Mh26ciD1Q-st1AdE7J8AP_bWJxWA8-O51iNsKaUmPm-enSk3N8i8oD_4nh2QwksILZuSv2LdAZY4I4Rfidq0Gs4s4CHNAjeaQgmFKEJFWp9Fwq-7BfwxQmU/s1600/lynn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWRgddLEVVDTf-DvMp0NUo-Mh26ciD1Q-st1AdE7J8AP_bWJxWA8-O51iNsKaUmPm-enSk3N8i8oD_4nh2QwksILZuSv2LdAZY4I4Rfidq0Gs4s4CHNAjeaQgmFKEJFWp9Fwq-7BfwxQmU/s640/lynn.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
But the Fenway advantage is not limited to any specific type of lefty. The two big, muscular, lumbering sluggers in the group experienced the same kind of advantage. Mo Vaughn and David Ortiz were more powerful than Lynn and Yaz outside of Fenway, but still form two more examples of the lefty Fenway prototype: a .265-hitting Clark Kent transformed by Fenway into Superman with a .300+ batting average and an OPS right around 1.000.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghvvmWDZLyYw-TrWcADj9jy7VvxLHwsDEumE4Q4WDqNUpgTfXKyyTpiu7n0-QZuUIqAspaRPZfwhVYa_vXWJwwsKIRTgTTa0YVBkMDgHiS7GJrRPx6GbZvGtlKFN24rH6512YwmxSSeIeG/s1600/ortiz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghvvmWDZLyYw-TrWcADj9jy7VvxLHwsDEumE4Q4WDqNUpgTfXKyyTpiu7n0-QZuUIqAspaRPZfwhVYa_vXWJwwsKIRTgTTa0YVBkMDgHiS7GJrRPx6GbZvGtlKFN24rH6512YwmxSSeIeG/s640/ortiz.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
The final examples add two more types of hitters: Wade Boggs, a skillful line drive hitter who liked to use the opposite field when given the opportunity, and Ted Williams, a powerful hitter who almost never hit to the opposite field. Their stats demonstrate that Fenway enhances the production of any kind of lefty hitter. Both of these hitting machines, although polar opposites in their hitting approaches, were able to produce Fenway batting averages in the .360s.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5x1xEMCQGU_9jOhLLuuLAo0Ol7kmkWDEZa3S8HJOVO7MUrZyiHWk5nzpYcSq08y5M4xkizWT_I-f8HfLiImmy9URvpyI9T1jJgSy5iULieNYVNcaT7qBij0Tg7wzdt8DdsqpMYCUzcZ6I/s1600/boggs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5x1xEMCQGU_9jOhLLuuLAo0Ol7kmkWDEZa3S8HJOVO7MUrZyiHWk5nzpYcSq08y5M4xkizWT_I-f8HfLiImmy9URvpyI9T1jJgSy5iULieNYVNcaT7qBij0Tg7wzdt8DdsqpMYCUzcZ6I/s640/boggs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
The composite of these six hitters creates a profile how how much the career of a great left-handed hitter can benefit from playing in Fenway Park.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<ul>
<li>As a group they batted .332 in Fenway, .283 elsewhere. (+49 points)</li>
<li>Their on-base percentage was .434 in Fenway, .377 elsewhere. (+57 points)</li>
<li>Their slugging average was .565 in Fenway, .473 elsewhere. (+92 points)</li>
</ul>
<div>
Since a major leaguer plays half of his games in his home park, a lefty who plays his career in Fenway (as opposed to a hypothetical neutral park) can expect to add about 25 points to his batting average and nearly 50 points to his slugging average. That is very close to what actually happened to Yastrzemski and Williams, who did play their entire careers in Boston.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">How did Williams perform in Yankee Stadium?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
A look at Ted's lifetime statistics in Yankee Stadium reveal that he would not have enjoyed as productive a career there as he did in Boston. The simplest way to demonstrate that is by comparing his performances in Fenway Park and Yankee Stadium per 600 plate appearances:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhfF93w5Bni1r4ZOl1BIL3N_OfIHvQN8uEmgKVwdbyN8Rf1dpLNOrJejncDmwIHDBqXwcN_-LJfd97syvh6mMoNBm-EAz3TuOpd5Utv8YfRNos-I90x-R0yWa_Hdsjb4AiRn907nZmx6y6/s1600/parks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="251" data-original-width="369" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhfF93w5Bni1r4ZOl1BIL3N_OfIHvQN8uEmgKVwdbyN8Rf1dpLNOrJejncDmwIHDBqXwcN_-LJfd97syvh6mMoNBm-EAz3TuOpd5Utv8YfRNos-I90x-R0yWa_Hdsjb4AiRn907nZmx6y6/s1600/parks.jpg" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
From these batting lines we can reach some fairly accurate conclusions about how a theoretical move from Fenway to Yankee Stadium might have affected Williams's individual stats. For every 600 plate appearances (roughly equivalent to two seasons' worth of home games), we can see that only two counting stats are significantly different: Yankee Stadium would have converted some 25 doubles into walks. His OBP, therefore, would remain about the same in the hypothetical relocation, but his batting and slugging averages would suffer.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I can only guess why Williams took more pitches and hit fewer doubles in Yankee Stadium. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
(1) While both parks had short porches along the right field line and Fenway is deeper near the line, Yankee Stadium was deeper in right center and center. A 400-foot fly ball was always good for extra bases in Fenway, while Yankee Stadium produced many 400-foot outs with DiMaggio patrolling center. The depth of Yankee Stadium was not as traumatic for left-handed sluggers as for righties, but it gave those lefties some fits as well. See the dimensions pictured in the illustration below, which represents both parks as they were configured in Williams' day (click to enlarge).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWA3Tj0fjmc-AHrQCURBxSfj0Koq9xcY1bWfQyufS2TMWX9iszcp89Z5CwG_8LP6JmwVG8m9TVT27Cysu8h8ZlyQjFSwlCnOVLsqZC8VWJT7XnAhnwBwNH2F_jVMez2dCgqzb64qPLWta/s1600/Fenway_Yankee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="509" data-original-width="941" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWA3Tj0fjmc-AHrQCURBxSfj0Koq9xcY1bWfQyufS2TMWX9iszcp89Z5CwG_8LP6JmwVG8m9TVT27Cysu8h8ZlyQjFSwlCnOVLsqZC8VWJT7XnAhnwBwNH2F_jVMez2dCgqzb64qPLWta/s640/Fenway_Yankee.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
(2) Managers rarely start a left-handed pitcher in Fenway Park because of the short distances in left field. For example, Casey Stengel would notoriously skip Whitey Ford's turn whenever the Yankees traveled to Boston. From 1950 until 1960, his eleven seasons under the Ol' Perfessor, Ford started only five games in Fenway Park. Stengel knew what he was doing. During the course of his lifetime, Ford had a lower earned run average than Sandy Koufax, but Whitey's lifetime ERA in Fenway was a disastrous 6.16!! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In contrast, managers loaded up their rotations with lefties to pitch in Yankee Stadium because the distant fences from left center to straightaway center made that area Death Valley for right-handed sluggers. In the 1950s, where we have complete data available (unlike the 1940s), left handers started 29% of all American League games, and 33% of the games at Yankee Stadium, but only 11% of the games at Fenway. By playing half of his games in Fenway Park, Williams faced left-handed starters in only about 20% of his career games, while DiMaggio's Yankees, playing half of their games in the Bronx, faced lefty starters approximately 31% of the time.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Since a left-handed slugger would face far more lefty pitchers in Yankee Stadium than in Fenway Park, his overall performance would decline in the Bronx even if all other factors were constant. Even a great hitter like Williams was not immune to the platoon disadvantage. He batted only .318 throughout his career in games started by left-handed pitchers, versus .351 in his other games.<br />
<br />
(3) Williams himself claimed that pitchers would pitch to him in Fenway because they felt protected by the the deep fence in right-center, but would always pitch around him in Yankee Stadium. He knew his game pretty well, and that explanation is consistent with the substantial increase in walks that he experienced in the Bronx.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Wasn't Williams' sub-Splinter performance in Yankee Stadium just a result of having to face the great Yankee pitching staff there?</span><br />
<br />
Short answer: no. Long answer: hell, no.<br />
<br />
Williams didn't seem to have any problem hitting against that vaunted staff in Fenway Park.<br />
<br />
Although Teddy Ballgame's line against the Yankee pitchers in Yankee Stadium was .309/.484/.543, it was quite a different story in Fenway Park, where his line against the Yankees was off the charts, with a .375 batting average. (.515 OBP/.663 SLG).<br />
<br />
The specific differences between the two performances are much the same as Williams's overall splits between Fenway and Yankee Stadium. His home run rate was almost identical in both parks, but per 600 plate appearances, Williams drew 28 more walks at Yankee Stadium while hitting 30 fewer doubles (!!) That's not a misprint. He hit 46 doubles per 600 plate appearances against Yankee pitching at home, but only 16 in the Bronx.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Overall, how would the move have affected Williams?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If you knew everything above, you would never have asked the Williams/DiMaggio question in the first place, because you would realize that Fenway is a hitters' paradise, even for lefties, and you would realize that Williams did not meet our expectation for Splinter-like success at Yankee Stadium. Williams' career totals would have been significantly diminished if he had played in the Bronx. The mental picture we have formed of Ted Williams' hitting abilities is there <u>because</u> of Fenway, <u>not in spite of</u> it.<br />
<br />
The hypothetical move is relatively easy to approximate. We will give him the number of plate appearances in Yankee Stadium that he had in Fenway and vice-versa, while keeping his performance per plate appearance constant with what he actually accomplished in those parks. We will leave his performance in all other parks untouched.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The following chart shows the result of that extrapolation:<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<center>
<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" style="text-align: center; width: 500px;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
Actual Career:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
Projected career:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
PA</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
9788</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
9788</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
AB</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
7706</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
7528</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
H</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
2654</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
2425</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
2B</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
525</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
362</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
3B</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
71</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
54</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
HR</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
521</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
508</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
BB</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
2021</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
2207</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
BA</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
.344</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
.322</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
OBP</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
.482</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
.476</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
SLG</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
.634</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
.587</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
OPS</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
1.116</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
1.063</div>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Note that this extrapolation assumes that Williams would have the same number of plate appearances in the Bronx as he actually had at Fenway. That would not have happened in reality. He would have had fewer plate appearances if his home games had been in Yankee Stadium because there are fewer hits and runs there than in Fenway, hence fewer total plate appearances for everyone. (In the course of his career, Williams had 712 plate appearances against Yankee pitching at home, but only 639 at Yankee Stadium, but I don't know how much of that is attributable to run scoring and how much was created by management decisions.) If I were to adjust for a presumed decrease in home plate appearances, and a corresponding increase in road appearances at Fenway, all of his lifetime <u>percentage</u> stats would be a little bit <u>higher</u> in the "projected career" shown above because he would spend a greater percentage of his time in more favorable offensive environments. On the other hand, the <u>counting</u> stats would be <u>lower</u> because of the reduced number of opportunities. He might never have hit that 500th homer if he had been a Yankee.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And what about Mr. Coffee?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1ZhwGoyMgbcXYHcwbGunNdWwywB8X3LFIJH39ucLwv103SoefqcpiSYnsvF_JStHXC2h-8fGRoj8D_rduh9hPQLi7Y2hRjR1XSuyuI2h-8fawLR-bbr_kJgHAyUx_vLBSBQyaEfwNvIh/s1600/joe-dimaggio-mr-coffee-comercial-1974.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1ZhwGoyMgbcXYHcwbGunNdWwywB8X3LFIJH39ucLwv103SoefqcpiSYnsvF_JStHXC2h-8fGRoj8D_rduh9hPQLi7Y2hRjR1XSuyuI2h-8fawLR-bbr_kJgHAyUx_vLBSBQyaEfwNvIh/s1600/joe-dimaggio-mr-coffee-comercial-1974.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
If you've been paying attention to the above, you undoubtedly realize that any right handed power hitter at Yankee Stadium would have profited from a move to Fenway Park, although the massive difference in the dimension of the parks in left and left center would be mitigated slightly by the steady diet of right-handed pitchers who take the mound at Fenway. Joltin' Joe's line at Yankee Stadium was .315/.391/.547 as compared to .334/.410/.605 at Fenway.<br />
<br />
The difference can be summarized by just two transpositions, and they both make perfect sense.<br />
<br />
Per 600 plate appearances:<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<ol>
<li>DiMaggio made 10 more outs at Yankee Stadium, and hit 9 fewer homers, so 9 or 10 of his Yankee Stadium fly-outs would have left the park in Fenway, precisely what we would have predicted from looking at the dimensions of the two stadiums.</li>
<br />
<li>DiMaggio hit four more doubles at Fenway, but 5 more triples in the Bronx. This again is completely consistent with what we would have expected, since a lot of liners in the gaps would hit the fence in Fenway and bounce back to the fielders, but would just keep rolling in the vast confines of center and left center in Yankee Stadium.</li>
</ol>
His rates for singles and walks were nearly identical in both parks.<br />
<br />
Performing the same extrapolations used for Williams creates the following projections for DiMaggio's hypothetical career with Fenway as his home.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
<center>
<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" style="width: 500px;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Actual Career:<br />
<br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Projected career</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">PA</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">7672</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">7672</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">AB</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">6821</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">6820</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">H</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">2214</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">2268</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">2B</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">389</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">411</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">3B</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">131</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">105</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">HR</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">361</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">410</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">BB</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">790</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">806</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">BA</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.325</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.333</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OBP</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">..398</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.406</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">SLG</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.579</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.604</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OPS</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.977</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1.010</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Conclusions</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC7CrejG_Pehp2Hvle338bExHiyt7w_L7LUf83E8O2NwrOs6nhScrniXWjpHnJf9shWNnAY8a6wQwo9ReWdkcc2wTRXRjp8M_p0zUVueOsWJqh3jX4hRX3aIoK3ml_t3cbWXmNaA2-6ZJq/s1600/0607_oag-dimaggio-williams-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="233" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC7CrejG_Pehp2Hvle338bExHiyt7w_L7LUf83E8O2NwrOs6nhScrniXWjpHnJf9shWNnAY8a6wQwo9ReWdkcc2wTRXRjp8M_p0zUVueOsWJqh3jX4hRX3aIoK3ml_t3cbWXmNaA2-6ZJq/s1600/0607_oag-dimaggio-williams-2.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
If Ted Williams and Joe DiMaggio had swapped home parks, it would have worked out very well for DiMaggio, but not for Williams. As a result of DiMaggio improving while Williams declined, the theoretical swap would have resulted in DiMaggio finishing with a higher career batting average than Williams (.333 to .322) and a higher slugging average (.604 to .587). DiMaggio would also have picked up some 50 additional home runs. Williams, however, would still have the higher OPS by more than 50 points, thanks to a massive difference in on-base percentage (.476 versus .406 ).<br />
<br />
Does that mean that DiMaggio was significantly closer to Ted's level than previously believed? No, not really. Slightly, yes. Significantly, no. This extrapolation does not level the scales. It simply tips the scales from an advantage for Williams to an advantage for DiMaggio. The theoretical careers for the two hitters just seem closer together than their real careers because of the imbalance of plate appearances at Fenway. Drilling down the stats, an observer will note that Williams out-hit Dimaggio in almost every park, so if the players had a perfectly level playing field, with the same number of plate appearances in every park, thereby denying the Fenway advantage to both of them, a straight average of the percentage stats in all the ballparks they both played in would look like this:<br />
<br />
Williams: .337/.480/.637 1.117 OPS<br />
DiMaggio: .329/.403/.592 .995 OPS<br />
<br />
That would still leave Ted Williams with an hypothetical edge of 122 points in OPS, compared to his actual of 139. That leads us to believe that DiMaggio is slightly closer to Williams than their career OPS numbers would lead one to believe.<br />
<br />
But just slightly.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-2782631390728487692017-03-09T23:32:00.001-08:002017-07-13T18:47:36.708-07:00A journey back to the deadball era in high-resolution photos<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
A century ago, before the construction of Fenway Park, there were two major league ballparks side-by-side in the south of Boston. And I mean truly side-by-side. Of course, it is not that rare in baseball history to have had National and American League parks in close proximity. Over the years there have been many major league neighbors.<br />
<br /> The Polo Grounds and Yankee Stadium were separated by little more than a river.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguCVyPa1COq7PF1xXuh2lowXyR36fciEABj143Aq4eLHGWDKBYqRXTbh57abPAl-Eff-N47FoS2nOM0Q4hWBdidTz9Y7CX9O3xTtyhXexgh0TohvTNKNimR26ypEbjZMDaqGhTn4ngpa-Y/s1600/polo_yankee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguCVyPa1COq7PF1xXuh2lowXyR36fciEABj143Aq4eLHGWDKBYqRXTbh57abPAl-Eff-N47FoS2nOM0Q4hWBdidTz9Y7CX9O3xTtyhXexgh0TohvTNKNimR26ypEbjZMDaqGhTn4ngpa-Y/s1600/polo_yankee.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Shibe Park and the rickety old Baker Bowl were on the same Philadelphia street, separated by only a few city blocks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlxxwDJIcMB26YmHCMSVjNikCQnkXw9OVP1gm_phcBPzWaB5BnGLpy0U9wJBg2QhKSs_ETde56O-i9mlPGMjx66rMF4Y7PWfiv8TXpJC5zg-NnCvhluBNp0kV01OrS5p03oMWiMROxIAvR/s1600/Shibe_Park_and_Baker_Bowl-aerial.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlxxwDJIcMB26YmHCMSVjNikCQnkXw9OVP1gm_phcBPzWaB5BnGLpy0U9wJBg2QhKSs_ETde56O-i9mlPGMjx66rMF4Y7PWfiv8TXpJC5zg-NnCvhluBNp0kV01OrS5p03oMWiMROxIAvR/s1600/Shibe_Park_and_Baker_Bowl-aerial.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
But the distances between those parks seem like light years compared to the space between <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_End_Grounds">South End Grounds</a>, home of the National League team we now know as the Braves, and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huntington_Avenue_Grounds">Huntington Avenue Grounds</a>, the pre-Fenway home of the Red Sox, who were known earlier as the Pilgrims. Operating together from 1901 to 1911, the two parks were separated only by some railroad tracks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuGFTQIEBUxbB49kKxBIVHdazKRpgF16VXL8eMCQOTabFKW-7EJlXy3kjIOQvKZBZjXickrxiPmGbvQqgRM5xqCtoDvUorg-Aiz17BxQX-Q1pGAurVUhPJHYkeSUzQkyar2F4X1Apeu4q/s1600/Huntington_and_SouthEnd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuGFTQIEBUxbB49kKxBIVHdazKRpgF16VXL8eMCQOTabFKW-7EJlXy3kjIOQvKZBZjXickrxiPmGbvQqgRM5xqCtoDvUorg-Aiz17BxQX-Q1pGAurVUhPJHYkeSUzQkyar2F4X1Apeu4q/s1600/Huntington_and_SouthEnd.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
The two parks were so close together that the best wide-angle or panoramic views of the Huntington Avenue Grounds would clearly show the grandstands, bleachers and outfield billboards of the South End park. The picture below was taken of the Huntington Avenue Grounds during the first World Series, which took place in 1903. (You can click on the image below to download a 4364x3336 version which is a must for your collection if you are into old-time baseball). If you move your eyes directly up from the pitcher's mound, you will see the grandstand of the other park, which looks like this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK46nkHBSaoBEmIkxU0CXR4SNP3u1fQvceSrsr_ZAvQu26re5Atfr6JrloUdHc9KXHajoPS23Gdq1qLa4fQBj7tSj0JUrvoEUzR16CvOP2-3_k73Ca3A-25aosblNLXyQfOGmleh5Eb6mI/s1600/South_End_Grounds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK46nkHBSaoBEmIkxU0CXR4SNP3u1fQvceSrsr_ZAvQu26re5Atfr6JrloUdHc9KXHajoPS23Gdq1qLa4fQBj7tSj0JUrvoEUzR16CvOP2-3_k73Ca3A-25aosblNLXyQfOGmleh5Eb6mI/s400/South_End_Grounds.jpg" width="500" height="315" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
As your eyes continue leftward, you will see the outfield fence and a portion of the bleachers. In the full-sized version you can clearly read the outfield billboards in both parks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/boston/Huntington_1903_WS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56v9EMKdsVcSHEKmK9W9r3HDpxcdjEpRhCW_jLxrNv6yptSLRZb-NtDgHOrxiv_Iz11VL30-q7jsSPXECBxurKP8zOpq44hK0jk5QBS1m9wuYsImKyKZSx4G-1uV0L5CXAJ_hrwcitXJ0/s1600/th_Huntington_1903_WS.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
You will note in the picture that the fans are forming a ring in the outfield. This was the standard procedure at Huntington for overflow crowds, which happened frequently, because the seating capacity in the park was capable of handling only about a third of the people who showed up on the busiest days! That disparity is the main reason why Fenway Park was built in the first place. Cutting off the outfield area didn't really present much of a problem for game play, since balls rarely flew into even the shallowest reaches of the stands in the deadball era, so they would certainly not reach the center field fence, which in that park was <a href="http://www.ballparks.com/baseball/american/huntin.htm">530 feet away</a> at its most distant configuration. Many deadball players couldn't reach that with their two longest hits added together! The image below, again available in ultra-high resolution with a click of the mouse (it's so large you'll have a delay in the download, but it's another must-have for collectors), pictures a game between Boston and New York in 1904 and shows just how roomy the stadium was. The crowd forming the ring is more than 100 feet behind the center fielder, yet there is still a vast distance between those fans and the others back by the fence.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/boston/Huntington_Oct8_1904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgg4GQAQ6IAqaXUFkh7REfD01nxYI8_mMAG4uy1Q7cjN7afFTp3IQOSW5QB3wPjX0f9BRNhp887NwqsmagnnwB4VRiY5Ybi-2u1Bokl8xmrlzc0sLnUQIy-SToK-IgHPhxoFpUcgTk609Q/s1600/th_Huntington_Oct8_1904.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
You can't get an idea from the thumbnail of just how much detail is available in the full image. The quality of the image is so spectacular that the individual fans closest to the camera on the far left could be clearly and easily identified. I don't know anything about the history of photography, so I had no clue that the photographers of 1904 possessed the technology to produce such an image.<br />
<br />
And that image, impressive as it may be, is not my favorite of the group. The picture that inspired me to research and present this article was taken on Saturday, August 5, 1911. It was the last year that the Red Sox would play on Huntington Avenue, and the great <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/c/cobbty01.shtml">Ty Cobb</a> was in town with the visiting Detroit Tigers. Cobb was on his way to a spectacular season, and was the league's ultimate drawing card. The game set an all-time attendance record, not just for this park, but for any park in baseball history to that date, as reported in <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCAQJ0ZPbudwcP38teXea8Ghl-dc2iz0E5VHZaplcBDKs6AbrA0elu2OrW92HX22Ralq2HDrLnNbz6-awJux-wyunnC-FIZNIFw7FndA1B96hXMeWN8oqQN1UL95rSSjpdlxKRuqsmhWN/s1600/The_Washington_Post_Sun__Aug_6__1911_.jpg">this article</a> in the next day's Washington Post.<br />
<br />
The attendance of 33,904 may not seem impressive in 2016, but it placed a significant strain on a park <a href="http://www.ballparks.com/baseball/american/huntin.htm">with an official seating capacity of 11,000</a>! As seen in the image below, the fans were jammed in everywhere, many of them balanced precariously on the fences.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/boston/Huntington_Avenue_Grounds-August_5_1911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixKsz3aQWUYwi3N1lbvcdgJ8kQaODRIjxlKkVrgZqMR0dPRM4I-YS11CGPKj8FgYsiZQcvhHVb3ShaTaiX7kNHMPQeomjDRTftfTLBJ6pnuVMugisFSDOHo4fw5iNQ0teJqtIcAaTfgNkH/s1600/th_Huntington_Avenue_Grounds-August_5_1911.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Once more the full-sized version is available with a mouse click on the image above, and is required viewing for anyone curious about baseball in America a century ago.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSHwl1peZNfY5lIijNdAzqlLlZ4a5y2z1dygKEP3I_JvuHz3Id1CcMaNW9YwMIkuBR_HdeXtpV0okP2LZZ7z8EfaH8lt9lmhMQ2tf8pu3uugKcZX0kmkqwEUpXpE66Z6U4uVtfyvhfpbVg/s1600/35774.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSHwl1peZNfY5lIijNdAzqlLlZ4a5y2z1dygKEP3I_JvuHz3Id1CcMaNW9YwMIkuBR_HdeXtpV0okP2LZZ7z8EfaH8lt9lmhMQ2tf8pu3uugKcZX0kmkqwEUpXpE66Z6U4uVtfyvhfpbVg/s1600/35774.jpg" /></a></div>
As identified on the scoreboard, the game action is taking place in the bottom of the second, with the Red Sox at bat. A complete account of the game, including a box score, is available from <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/boston/Detroit_Free_Press_Sun__Aug_6__1911_.jpg">the next day's edition of the Detroit Free Press</a>. The visiting Tigers, who were chasing the powerful A's for the league leadership, took the game 7 to 4, despite four hits from Boston's star, Hall of Famer <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/speaktr01.shtml">Tris Speaker</a>, who was generally considered the best defensive center fielder in history until Willie Mays came along.<br />
<br />
The opposing center fielder, pictured playing his position in the photograph, is the legendary Ty Cobb, who had two hits that day while hitting in the third spot in the line-up. One of his hits knocked in the game's first run, which put the Tigers ahead for good. Cobb was on his way to the best season of perhaps the greatest career in the history of the game. In a unanimous vote, he would win the Chalmers Award as the league's best player. He batted .420 and led the league in doubles, triples, runs scored, runs batted in, stolen bases, and just about anything else you can think of except home runs, where he had to settle for second place behind <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/b/bakerfr01.shtml">Home Run Baker</a>. <br />
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfVmMeQBBhfEMmXs5EJMYCOgftkv9Nyn358jMtrOukOVP2mBNZlI3SjqmtkCTHtrAiqFomyeo3nWbK884G4PeKAk0LVL52biI7HEaTuGgB9QQIKnjytqjxzkvhZeCKUoo3-4Ba1BLk9FX4/s1600/18467_599x1015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfVmMeQBBhfEMmXs5EJMYCOgftkv9Nyn358jMtrOukOVP2mBNZlI3SjqmtkCTHtrAiqFomyeo3nWbK884G4PeKAk0LVL52biI7HEaTuGgB9QQIKnjytqjxzkvhZeCKUoo3-4Ba1BLk9FX4/s1600/18467_599x1015.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFL6f3-IM9y9SgMIvlYKs0in52s5IwfdSB8YxNfsDljsJZRAiCnawbBiHMCZpqjHZhI47ojuIfuXzScdYn4k6yrSjrKmx_5pRZPggFMFjyu2Mx-ZYlKezakOQUpJhQcC-FgehRn8PJHmt0/s1600/crawford-sam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFL6f3-IM9y9SgMIvlYKs0in52s5IwfdSB8YxNfsDljsJZRAiCnawbBiHMCZpqjHZhI47ojuIfuXzScdYn4k6yrSjrKmx_5pRZPggFMFjyu2Mx-ZYlKezakOQUpJhQcC-FgehRn8PJHmt0/s200/crawford-sam.jpg" width="133" height="200" /></a></div>
The Tigers' right fielder and clean-up hitter was <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/c/crawfsa01.shtml">Wahoo Sam Crawford</a> (right), another great Hall of Famer, who once led the league in homers, but specialized in triples, a category he led six times despite competing directly against Cobb. Crawford still holds the all-time record for the most triples in a career, and probably always will, with 309. (Cobb is second.) Crawford, headed to a season mark of .378 with 115 RBI, also had two hits that day.<br />
<br /><br />
Playing first base and batting fifth for the Tigers was <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/d/delahji01.shtml">Jim Delahanty</a>, brother of another great Hall of Famer and a solid star in his own right. Delahanty batted .339 that year and knocked in 94 runs. It was the best of his 13 major league seasons.<br />
<br />
Despite all that talent, the visiting Tigers were to finish a dozen games behind the Philadelphia A's that year. While the Tigers were about equal to the A's in offensive firepower, they could not match the great pitching of Connie Mack's Philadelphia team, which featured two Hall of Famers in the rotation and a third pitcher who won 28 games! The A's allowed fewer runs than any other team, while the Tigers finished second-last in that category. In fact, the Tigers were actually on the way downward in 1911 after trips to the World Series in 1907-1909. Despite their great hitting, they would not win another American League pennant until 1934. The hometown Red Sox, although mediocre in 1911 at 78-75, were headed in the other direction, building a powerhouse that would win the World Series the following year on the strength of an epic season from their pitching ace <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/woodjo02.shtml">Smoky Joe Wood</a>, who would compile an astounding 34-5 record in 1912. When Wood developed arm troubles, the mighty A's would bounce back to win the pennant in the following two years, but when financial pressures forced Mack to sell off his best players from the A's after the 1914 season, the Red Sox became indisputably the best team in baseball in the late teens. Unfortunately for the Boston partisans, the Sox fell deep into the doldrums after they would sell a certain young pitcher-outfielder named George Herman Ruth to the New York Yankees, thus bringing the so-called "curse of the Bambino" down upon their heads. Whether they were "cursed" or not, the fact remains that, after winning the World Series three times in four years (1915, 1916, 1918), the Bosox would not win another in the next 85 Octobers.<br />
<br />
The Huntington Avenue Grounds had a relatively short lifespan. The land, trapped between two different rail lines, was available at a low price, and the entire stadium was built in 1901 for a mere $35,000, according to this plan, with the left field line running approximately south to north:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPJBefCEyyygEeAyI1JQEhPkVarA9sgdfHiyZqqsDqI5ljuC__GN9ajZoAiaUQMUkbhsa42AbUWCouzEsxgu54UITOOsDIqLPs-KLYUhYdggBA6huq4N2o6if4ig_ACHW4yM6FX42RhrXj/s1600/1901grid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPJBefCEyyygEeAyI1JQEhPkVarA9sgdfHiyZqqsDqI5ljuC__GN9ajZoAiaUQMUkbhsa42AbUWCouzEsxgu54UITOOsDIqLPs-KLYUhYdggBA6huq4N2o6if4ig_ACHW4yM6FX42RhrXj/s640/1901grid.jpg" width="640" height="451" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Without sufficient seating to accommodate the burgeoning crowds of the increasingly popular national pastime, and heading into the age of the automobile without a parking lot, Huntington Grounds was obviously not going to be anything more than a temporary home for the Red Sox. When Fenway Park was ready, the Huntington Avenue ballpark was soon demolished, and the land eventually became the site of Northeastern University. The 2016 image below is positioned at approximately the same orientation as the picture above from the 1911 game, showing the same part of Huntington Avenue and the parallel railroad tracks. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIVFte1p5xQ6FFZTm2iZ9GIMcvzS7H8MfSIxy3Z8dVXOPKiUd2Dwzcws_ZMstDwUPqhC5Dot0OetrYsaxzBp6JwKrE_OZFCJzo-ZeHJIDgSCSz5TEDMC8OKD1ADYd6N1WoyPspWAM4A3x1/s1600/boston_grid-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIVFte1p5xQ6FFZTm2iZ9GIMcvzS7H8MfSIxy3Z8dVXOPKiUd2Dwzcws_ZMstDwUPqhC5Dot0OetrYsaxzBp6JwKrE_OZFCJzo-ZeHJIDgSCSz5TEDMC8OKD1ADYd6N1WoyPspWAM4A3x1/s640/boston_grid-1.jpg" width="640" height="472" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
You may notice that the center of the university contains a label that says "Cy Young." This refers to a statue of the famous hurler which has been placed on the exact location where he stood to pitch in the old ballpark.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2LSnWKzh9oXEswtM4oMtfqq5VP0aGNrBfP_NdZQ2kIhXRC3ZOVud8DrLya63pqRyX9qBGvbROTB6JlZ4LQNSasFN8-hCmibwWk6HDmQBxMwZg1zhjpCem-cdW85NEplcjVeTpdeRR8yz/s1600/Cy_Young.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2LSnWKzh9oXEswtM4oMtfqq5VP0aGNrBfP_NdZQ2kIhXRC3ZOVud8DrLya63pqRyX9qBGvbROTB6JlZ4LQNSasFN8-hCmibwWk6HDmQBxMwZg1zhjpCem-cdW85NEplcjVeTpdeRR8yz/s1600/Cy_Young.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Cy, the winningest pitcher in history, was an important cog in the Boston team which won the very first World Series in that very location. The 1903 Boston "Pilgrims," champions of the upstart American League, which was then only three years old, were able to defeat the favored Pittsburgh Pirates of the long-established National League in a "best of nine" series. Despite falling behind three games to one, it took the American Leaguers only eight games to defeat the Pirates, with their fifth and final win coming at home. Cy Young won 28 games in the regular season that summer and added two more victories in the World Series. He was also one of the team's best hitters, posting a sparkling .321 batting average during the season. <br />
<br />
His totem is not isolated in that college courtyard. The exact location of home plate is also marked, and Cy still faces it appropriately today, and perhaps will until the very end of days.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUt2rzAG4ja71JWfoQ4D-W0bit0zF6YtZ2IboEyOsN9nIqbj759UDcnYAi5goIq1aSwnjTpjcJW22F9SMmUAoARFjqO-zy6HbYqKDbp2OxmurihLM6kwTO4r_F7bn77R6TP8rUHZfhL8Q/s1600/home_plate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUt2rzAG4ja71JWfoQ4D-W0bit0zF6YtZ2IboEyOsN9nIqbj759UDcnYAi5goIq1aSwnjTpjcJW22F9SMmUAoARFjqO-zy6HbYqKDbp2OxmurihLM6kwTO4r_F7bn77R6TP8rUHZfhL8Q/s1600/home_plate.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, baseball in Boston continues not so far away from that spot. Fenway Park replaced the Huntington Grounds less than a year after the 1911 game pictured above, and it is still in use today, a welcome reminder of America's and baseball's gentler past. The satellite image below shows Northeastern University, where Huntington once stood, on the bottom right. Fenway Park is seen on the top left, only about a half mile away.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdbkmvauUPH4TZ-RxleA7pQtr9yGjgwe97DotdHltgBS5W2q-ExnwCjaO0P3oA0o27eF-zOXfo9kaPZ57Ck7pFmUO5KSfppGlPCrX41Fmhx9hZqp1qMB8VinSQXrKhkxBg4bv_4nNHVfzB/s1600/boston_grid-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdbkmvauUPH4TZ-RxleA7pQtr9yGjgwe97DotdHltgBS5W2q-ExnwCjaO0P3oA0o27eF-zOXfo9kaPZ57Ck7pFmUO5KSfppGlPCrX41Fmhx9hZqp1qMB8VinSQXrKhkxBg4bv_4nNHVfzB/s1600/boston_grid-3.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-51873139885069530842016-11-06T20:02:00.001-08:002017-11-26T01:42:19.365-08:00Who are the great clutch hitters of modern times?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
Many of the finest baseball minds believe that clutch hitting doesn't really exist; that it is an illusion created by a confluence of chance and small sample sizes. Before I started to research the subject, I was completely in that camp, and was willing to go even a step further. I theorized that if clutch hitting did exist, I would be suspicious of it. If a player is capable of hitting better in clutch situations than he does at other times, why doesn't he just perform like that at those other times? Is he too lazy? Unmotivated? I was, however, willing to concede that clutch hitting might have an opposite - choking. If some ballplayers choke under pressure then, by definition, those who do not choke are better clutch hitters, in which case clutch hitting does exist, albeit as the absence of a negative, rather than the presence of a positive.<br />
<br />
In order to evaluate all those hypotheses, it is necessary to have facts and a definition of clutch hitting. Perhaps someday a sabermetrician will dig into each player's career at-bat by at-bat, identifying every moment that represented a clutch situation, and assigning a weight to each of those moments by the degree of pressure, finally determining who the greatest clutch hitters are. For now, we have something tangible, simple and transparent that can stand as a surrogate for that missing information: performance in the late innings of close games. Not only are these moments reasonably identified as clutch situations, but all the data are readily available at <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/">baseball-reference.com</a>, so any of you can easily verify any claims I make here.<br />
<br />
The statistic does have some weaknesses:<br />
<br />
1. Clutch data is not directly comparable to non-clutch data, because pitchers behave differently in the late innings of close games. Moreover, pitchers alter their behavior even more for great hitters like the ones studied here. If a pitcher is ahead or behind by ten runs, there is no special reason to pitch around the great <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/d/dimagjo01.shtml">Joe DiMaggio</a>, but if the moundsman is protecting a one-run lead in the ninth inning, it's a whole 'nother kettle of crawdads. The most obvious result of this disparity is that great hitters draw a lot more semi-intentional walks in the late innings of close games. No professional hurler is going to allow DiMaggio to see one he can drive, if that can be avoided.<br />
<br />
2. Adjustments are necessary in order to compare players from different eras. In the era before pitch counts, when starters were expected to finish the game, hitters in general performed better in the late innings than they did early in the game, probably because they were often facing a tiring starter. That has gradually but inexorably changed in the past fifty years, so that hitters in general now perform much worse in late/close situations than they do overall. Instead of facing a worn-down starter, they are usually facing a fresh, strong arm, occasionally one chosen specifically to face them because of the match-up history. While <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/willite01.shtml">Ted Williams</a> might have been facing a tired <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/l/lemonbo01.shtml">Bob Lemon</a>, throwing his 150th pitch in the 9th inning and struggling to reach 85 MPH, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/v/vottojo01.shtml">Joey Votto</a> in the same situation might be staring down the barrel of a fresh <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/c/chapmar01.shtml">Aroldis Chapman</a> bringing his first pitch of the day at 104, and typically striking out fifteen batters per nine innings.<br />
<br />
Baseball is a tradition-bound game. Quite astoundingly, it took baseball's managers nearly a century before they even started to realize that it was not wise to let starting pitchers finish so many games. Even the very best and very toughest pitchers in history tended to flag as the game wore on. Let's take a couple of dramatic examples: no modern pitcher was better at completing a game than Warren Spahn (382 CG, tops by a mile among post-WW2 pitchers), and nobody was tougher than Bob Gibson (in his best years he completed 80% of his starts). Yet they both flagged in the late innings. Their strikeouts declined by about ten percent. Batters' OPS production increased by about five percent overall, slightly more in close games.
<br />
<br />
<center>
<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="5">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Opp. OPS<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Innings<br>
1-6</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Innings<br>
7-end</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Innings<br>
7-end (close)<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Decline<br>
in 7-end<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Decline<br>
in 7-end (close)<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=gibsobo01&year=Career&t=p#innng">Bob Gibson</a><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.613<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.642<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.654<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">4.7%<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">6.7%<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=spahnwa01&year=Career&t=p#innng">Warren Spahn</a><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.643<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.676<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.678<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">5.1%<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">5.4%<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">K/9<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Innings<br>
1-6</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Innings<br>
7-end<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Decline<br>
in 7-end</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Bob Gibson<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">7.4<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">6.7<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-9.4%<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Warren Spahn<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">4.6<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">4.0<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-15.0%<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center>
<br />
<br />
Pitchers work harder than batters, and thus tire sooner, but in the past they would often remain in the game, thus giving hitters an advantage as the game progressed. But those were the old days. Batters can no longer count on improving their performance in the late innings. As the game has evolved, starters get pulled earlier, and relievers become more specialized. Perhaps the only thing that pushes a starter to the end of the fifth inning today is the old-time tradition that the starter needs five innings of work to get the win, but even that could be challenged some day. As the analytical management style continues to dominate the game, baseball is loosening its grip on the traditions which are unsupported by empirical evidence. Sometime in the future, perhaps sooner than we expect, baseball franchises with nothing to lose will experiment with three-inning starters, or even with having nine men pitch an inning apiece. The first time such an experiment produces a dramatic improvement in the win column, old-time baseball's floodgates will open, and the modern world will come pouring through. For now, however, let's consider what has happened so far.
<br />
<br />
The drop-off in late inning performance has been quite dramatic over the years, and has not yet bottomed out, as shown in the following table. The table uses American League data only, and only since the inception of the DH, in order to remove pitchers from the equation. (They bat less frequently in the later innings, and thus pollute the data).<br />
<br />
<center>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr align="center">
<td colspan="4" rowspan="1" valign="top">American League OPS, all players<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Late and Close<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Overall<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Difference<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">1973-1978<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.701<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.706<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-0.8%<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">1979-1987<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.718<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.731<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-1.8%<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">1988-1997<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.714<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.743<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-3.9%<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">1998-2014<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.718<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.755<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-4.8%<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">2015-2016<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.691<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.737<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-6.3%<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center><br />
<br />
The good news is that we know all of this, and can therefore establish a reasonable expectation of how any given hitter should perform in late/close situations, given his overall level of performance. The OPS of Ted Williams, for example, is expected to be about 1% better in late/close situations than his overall number, while <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/t/troutmi01.shtml">Mike Trout</a>'s late/close OPS is expected to be about 6% worse than his overall career norm. These estimates vary based upon the actual years in which the player appeared, and while they are estimates, work very well in general. Making the appropriate adjustments, I estimated that my selected group of players would have a cumulative OPS of .901 in late/close situations, and they actually produced .899.<br />
<br />
Why did I use OPS? It is the most easily and readily available surrogate for run production. As the pioneer sabermetrician Bill James has pointed out, OxS (on base times slugging) actually correlates more closely to runs than OPS, but OPS is available and transparent, so it's the best user-friendly metric. It's also much easier for all of us to use and manipulate. Most people who are at all interested in numbers can calculate that a .350 OBP plus a .550 SLG equals a .900 OPS, but not many people can multiply two three-digit numbers in their heads.<br />
<br />
There is one remaining question, and it's an important one. Is clutch hitting properly defined by actual performance in late/close situations, or by the improvement (or lack of decline) in performance? That is more a matter of opinion than analysis, so I'm going to place both into a sortable table. You can decide which assumption suits you.<br />
<br />
I think that's probably enough disclaimers and caveats. We should probably postpone any additional verbiage until you've had a first look at <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/clutch.htm">the results</a> and a chance to tinker with them.<br />
<br />
Here are a few notes necessary to read and interpret the data:<br />
<br />
<ol><li>The OPS+ in clutch situations is a crude estimate based on the OPS ratio. That is to say that if a player's OPS was 6% better than expected in clutch situations, I estimated that his clutch OPS+ was also 6% better than his overall OPS+. Why bother with this? It's necessary to convert OPS to OPS+ to make the data more meaningful, otherwise you would have no way of knowing that <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=allendi01&year=Career&t=b#clutc">Dick Allen's clutch .925</a> is actually quite a bit better than <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=musiast01&year=Career&t=b#clutc">Stan Musial's clutch .990</a>!</li><br />
<br />
<li>The far right column is the ratio of actual clutch performance to expected clutch performance, multiplied times 100. In other words, a score of 111 means the clutch performance is 11% better than expected.</li><br />
<br />
<li>You will note that some of the items in the far right column are in red bold type. These are the only ones in which the difference between the distribution of hits in non-clutch and clutch situations is statistically significant at a 95% confidence level. In other words, if Mickey Mantle's non-clutch plate appearances were divided into random samples the size of <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=mantlmi01&year=Career&t=b#clutc">his clutch appearances</a>, his actual clutch performance would be above the 97.5th percentile of those samples, or would have less than a 5% chance of occurring in that population. Similarly, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=bankser01&year=Career&t=b#clutc">Ernie Banks' actual clutch performance</a> would be below the 2.5th percentile. In other words, except for those six players with red ratios, you're just studying the table out of curiosity. It's nice to know that the player you love performed 4% better than expected, and the guy you hate fell 6% below, but none of those facts are statistically significant. That's like comparing a .305 hitter during a single season to a .295 hitter: one number is better cosmetically, but does not represent significant evidence of better hitting.</li></ol><br />
<br />
So what have we learned?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6-MArtdERbSjBHbLT4rEVWVCuXEWa-HRb7HlQCxZbKQI3ZhQkzX5f4CtSn3q3V7ba1h3B1G-WgGyHYzBgt4EFGjABUOhWQKXwKZxw5hhg2adsRyxP9fgXzHABDSsmZlv_FHocxaReORjP/s1600/mantle_collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6-MArtdERbSjBHbLT4rEVWVCuXEWa-HRb7HlQCxZbKQI3ZhQkzX5f4CtSn3q3V7ba1h3B1G-WgGyHYzBgt4EFGjABUOhWQKXwKZxw5hhg2adsRyxP9fgXzHABDSsmZlv_FHocxaReORjP/s1600/mantle_collage.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Well, first and most obviously, we have learned that it doesn't matter how you sort the data when it comes to the number one spot. It's <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/m/mantlmi01.shtml">Mickey Mantle</a>. The Oklahoma Kid was the best hitter in clutch situations, and he was also the guy who improved the most from his normal performance. Here's how it breaks down:<br />
<br />
<center><table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr align="center">
<td colspan="6" rowspan="1" valign="top">Mickey Mantle per 550
at-bats<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">singles<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">2b+3b<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">HR<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">walks<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">avg<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">in clutch situations<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">98<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">33<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">46<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">140<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.321<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">in non-clutch situations</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">99<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">28<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">35<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">114<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.294<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center><br />
<br />
As you can see from the data, Mickey profited greatly from pitchers' fear. In non-clutch situations, the Commerce Comet walked a lot - 114 times for every 550 at-bats, but with the game on the line in the late innings, that number rose to a superhuman 140 because no pitcher in his right mind would intentionally give Mickey a pitch to hit. He also had the advantage of being a switch hitter, so opposing managers did not have many options when it came to relief pitchers. When he made contact, Mantle did not hit significantly more singles, doubles and triples, but his homer production increased more than 30%. Basically, he sat and waited, willing to take a walk if there was nothing in the zone, but swinging with all his considerable might if the pitcher released one he could take downtown. In those late inning pressure situations, The Mick transformed from a .294 hitter with a seasonal average of 35 homers and 114 walks into a .321 hitter with 46 homers and 140 walks!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-cTvr0lUtOn3y0dhWbtfXNj7iE_9ie8yJLtMnghIqY1k0STF3LLFSGkZQjNsvnjnO6wvIkVGtl9PPIAp0RJhBfEjbQgjAtBfAFvNkGfy6uD7oiryqqA9XJjMSGK2ykG3RkixMWRksAPu/s1600/clutchhitters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-cTvr0lUtOn3y0dhWbtfXNj7iE_9ie8yJLtMnghIqY1k0STF3LLFSGkZQjNsvnjnO6wvIkVGtl9PPIAp0RJhBfEjbQgjAtBfAFvNkGfy6uD7oiryqqA9XJjMSGK2ykG3RkixMWRksAPu/s1600/clutchhitters.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />
The other three players who had significant increases in their performances with the game on the line are a more interesting group, in a way, because they may not be the players you expected. When I began this study I thought the great clutch hitters would be players like <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/j/jacksre01.shtml">Reggie Jackson</a>, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/j/jeterde01.shtml">Derek Jeter</a>, and especially <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/o/ortizda01.shtml">David Ortiz</a>, who always seems to deliver in the big moments. It turns out that none of those players were especially good at stepping it up in the clutch. The other three great clutch hitters are <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/r/robinja02.shtml">Jackie Robinson</a>, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/c/clemero01.shtml">Roberto Clemente</a>, and the Toy Cannon, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/wynnji01.shtml">Jimmy Wynn</a>. Jackie Robinson was especially productive, actually tying Mantle for the highest percentage increase in critical situations. Two other players almost made the list: <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/p/perezto01.shtml">Tony Perez</a> and <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/b/berrayo01.shtml">Yogi Berra</a>. <br />
<br />
Note that these three men stand out based on their ability to improve in clutch situations, not their actual OPS+ in those instances. Ted Williams performed substantially worse with the game on the line than he did in other situations (it was almost a statistically significant difference, but not quite), while Jimmy Wynn performed substantially better, but a manager would still prefer to have Williams in the batters' box, because 94% of Ted Williams is still a lot better than 108% of Jimmy Wynn. In fact, 94% of Ted Williams is still better than anyone else in the clutch, except Mickey Mantle.<br />
<br />
Clemente basically improved with singles. His power and walks improved a tiny bit, albeit on a small base, but his batting average improved from .313 in non-clutch situations to .341 in the clutch.
<br />
<br />
Jim Wynn, surprisingly, also improved with singles. His sum total of EBH plus walks actually declined a bit, but his batting average jumped from .244 in non-clutch situations to .279 in late/clutch appearances.
<br />
<br />
I am assuming that Clemente and Wynn were just smart, unflappable hitters who bore down and concentrated on meeting the ball in those late situations. Jackie Robinson, on the other hand, just plain got fierce:<br />
<br />
<center>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr align="center">
<td colspan="6" rowspan="1" valign="top">Jackie Robinson per
550 at-bats<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">singles<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">2b+3b<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">HR<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">walks<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">avg<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">in clutch situations<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">128<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">36<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">24<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">97<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.341<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">in non-clutch situations</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">117<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">37<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">14<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">81<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.306<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center><br />
<br />
Like Mantle, his homers and walks improved in clutch appearances. Unlike Mantle, his singles production also increased. When the chips were down he turned from a .306 hitter with 14 homers and 81 walks into a .341 hitter with 24 homers and 97 walks. With the game on the line, he played like a man with something to prove.<br />
<br />
Which he was.
<br />
<br />
I really don't want to dwell on the players at the bottom of the list, because I prefer to celebrate greatness, but I would be remiss in failing to see that <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/b/bankser01.shtml">Ernie Banks</a>, whom I greatly admired as a player and a man, really fell apart in the clutch. On the surface, the smiling, affable, easy-going Banks seemed like the kind of man who would maintain his composure at all times and be unlikely to fold under pressure. Obviously, he had a more complicated psyche than fans realized, because he regressed into a very ordinary player <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=bankser01&year=Career&t=b#clutc">in the late innings of close games</a>. In the chart below you can see that he was roughly equivalent to Mickey Mantle in non-pressure situations (except for Mickey's walks, of course) but that there was a massive gulf between them with the game on the line in the late innings. Ernie's power production evaporated, while Mickey's exploded.<br />
<br />
<center>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr align="center">
<td colspan="7" rowspan="1" valign="top">Per 550 non-clutch
at-bats<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1b<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">2b<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">3b<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">HR<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">BB<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">avg<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Ernie Banks <br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">92<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">25<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">6<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">31<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">42<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.279<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Mickey Mantle<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">99<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">23<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">5<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">35<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">114<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.294<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr align="center">
<td colspan="7" rowspan="1" valign="top">Per 550 clutch
at-bats</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td valign="top">1b<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">2b<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">3b<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">HR<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">BB<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">avg<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Ernie Banks </td>
<td valign="top">93<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">20<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">2<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">22<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">60<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">.250<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Mickey Mantle</td>
<td valign="top">98<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">26<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">7<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">46<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">140<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">.321<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center><br />
<br />
One more thing:<br />
<br />
Amazingly enough, as I was studying this subject, I found that the greatest clutch hitter of modern times, at least in terms of improvement from non-clutch to clutch at bats, is somebody you may not remember at all. The reason he does not appear in the main table is that he had only about a thousand at-bats in his major league career, but he had an absolutely astounding improvement in late/close situations. The batter is <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/l/lefebjo01.shtml">Joe Lefebvre</a>, who played for the Yankees, Padres and Phillies in the early 80s.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ0xToDS9KK6vNaF7nXrTIXq2mFd3MO3DT9y6aGwOVVRqWH1-O-Y-B6XeHU1cWygeHp6gc32oMfVv_f5gZa_NNtibObeJbbL508f2jb-4s5wyu62LOvrdcb13hlqdFUVDy0a4ocS_uveFH/s1600/lefebvre_player.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ0xToDS9KK6vNaF7nXrTIXq2mFd3MO3DT9y6aGwOVVRqWH1-O-Y-B6XeHU1cWygeHp6gc32oMfVv_f5gZa_NNtibObeJbbL508f2jb-4s5wyu62LOvrdcb13hlqdFUVDy0a4ocS_uveFH/s1600/lefebvre_player.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The table below says it all:<br />
<br />
<center>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr align="center">
<td colspan="7" rowspan="1" valign="top">Joe Lefebvre per 550
at bats<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1b<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">2b<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">3b<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">HR<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">BB<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">avg<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">in non-clutch situations<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">87<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">24<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">6<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">14<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">69<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.238<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">in clutch situations </td>
<td align="center" valign="top">119<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">36<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">8<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">23<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">74<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.338<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqpRB08W2HZvNdGi2ibTW-IXMOVynZre7dFo7xzw0br58XtRb9svi7pNroEs8E-pIs5Xy2HiS7pvGvSQaNVjgH0WXoO_g8aiKJsmVoy1PbWVXEPRCznbGtowP_N8_gKm2nnrxEscXUm-N/s1600/giants-lefebvrejoe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqpRB08W2HZvNdGi2ibTW-IXMOVynZre7dFo7xzw0br58XtRb9svi7pNroEs8E-pIs5Xy2HiS7pvGvSQaNVjgH0WXoO_g8aiKJsmVoy1PbWVXEPRCznbGtowP_N8_gKm2nnrxEscXUm-N/s200/giants-lefebvrejoe.jpg" width="133" height="200" /></a></div>
Lefebvre once won a triple crown in the minors (Eastern League, 1979), and a lot of people must realize that he knows a thing or two about hitting, despite his mediocre major league stats, because <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/bullpen/Joe_Lefebvre">he is still in the game to this day</a>, at age 60, currently working on the staff of the major league Giants (image left), having spent some thirty years as a hitting instructor at various minor league levels, first with the Phillies' organization in the late 80s, then with the Yankees from 1990 to 1996. The years in those organizations are encapsulated in the images below. He finally landed in the Giants' camp in 1997, eventually becoming an assistant hitting coach for the big league club in 2013. As of 2016, he has left that position to perform various scouting duties for the Giants.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkm1U1GPcN4DF7Ald_zkE_jO-sYk6SPRlHVu0pT8WojSyPUKC1E3XohoEY0upUixfEimaiPrh-8yYFCZaSezRLcKV63CgIn8MZyyh66bFlgY5eY2N1zlCsr2xAoGZrRjLCixSs5StzDEwf/s1600/Coach_Joe-Lefebvre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkm1U1GPcN4DF7Ald_zkE_jO-sYk6SPRlHVu0pT8WojSyPUKC1E3XohoEY0upUixfEimaiPrh-8yYFCZaSezRLcKV63CgIn8MZyyh66bFlgY5eY2N1zlCsr2xAoGZrRjLCixSs5StzDEwf/s1600/Coach_Joe-Lefebvre.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
If Lefebvre had appeared in the main table, his ratio of actual clutch OPS to expected clutch OPS would have been 129 - although nobody actually on the table had a ratio higher than 111! That ratio was so high that the results were statistically significant despite a relatively small sample size. So hats off to Joe Lefebvre, the .238 hitter with moderate power who underwent a metamorphosis into<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=lefebjo01&year=Career&t=b#clutc"> a slugger with a .338 batting average and a .970 OPS</a> when the game was on the line, making him arguably the greatest clutch hitter in modern baseball history.<br />
<br />Who knew?
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-6869032529220604942016-10-15T19:44:00.002-07:002019-08-30T16:01:11.087-07:00Who is the real strikeout king?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Yes, it is true that <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/j/johnsra05.shtml">Randy Johnson</a> once struck out 13.41 batters per nine innings during a single season, and 10.61 per nine innings over the course of his career. Both represent the all-time records.
<br /><br />
Yes, it is true that <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/r/ryanno01.shtml">Nolan Ryan</a> struck out even more batters than Johnson, 5714 to 4875, and led his league more times, 11 versus 9.
<br /><br />
Yet I am going to propose to you that neither of those great modern pitchers was the most dominant strikeout pitcher in baseball history. In order to find the identity of that underrated fireballer, we'll have to look farther back in the baseball archives.
<br /><br />
Why search through the past?
<br /><br />
It's necessary because raw strikeout numbers are entirely dependent on and reflective of the era in which the pitcher's career took place. The frequency of strikeouts has varied greatly over the years, and has accelerated dramatically in the past 35 years, making it almost impossible to compare eras. According to Baseball-Reference.com's <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/leagues/MLB/bat.shtml">Major League Baseball Batting Encyclopedia</a>, the number of strikeouts per nine innings has gone from 4.75 to 8.01 in just the period from 1981 until now (I'm writing this after the 2016 season), and has now increased for eleven consecutive years. In the 20th century, the number had dropped as low as 2.70. When the National League played its very first season in 1876, the number was a meager 1.13.
<br /><br />
When I followed baseball most avidly, from the late 50s until the early 80s, a pitcher who struck out eight batters per nine innings was a real flame thrower. <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/seaveto01.shtml">Tom Seaver</a> led the NL in that category (K/9) several times with averages below eight; <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/b/bunniji01.shtml">Jim Bunning</a> led the AL one year with 7.1; <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/b/barkele01.shtml">Len Barker</a> led the AL one year by striking out only 6.8 batters per nine innings. If a pitcher could average eight strikeouts per game in 1980, it was a truly remarkable achievement. In 2016, however, eight strikeouts per game would be below the major league average!
<br /><br />
How, then, do we measure strikeouts in such a way that we can compare different pitchers from different eras?
<br /><br /> I propose two measures of true dominance:
<ol>
<li>By how much did the MLB leader beat the MLB average?
<li>By how much did the MLB leader beat the second-highest pitcher?
</ol>
The chart below, also found <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/members.htm">here</a>, summarizes the seventeen seasons in the history of major league baseball in which the strikeout champion doubled the major league average and struck out batters at least 20% more frequently than his nearest competitor.
<br /><br />
<iframe src="https://www.othercrap.com/members.htm" width="700" height="620"></iframe>
<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhOV2Mj_FkY91y8ID2B9FEnWJDUs8osDbYPcl46-B_XJlF7xe1kt3wl-PkwQ76U3tnhKJ3rMbfkMGjcg9u7wqQ35RYfxisDAbm__Snx_sTdSqk6zRgJ6yr_kZq_NDcFMo4ZaAlWqfXgKl9/s1600/dazzy6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhOV2Mj_FkY91y8ID2B9FEnWJDUs8osDbYPcl46-B_XJlF7xe1kt3wl-PkwQ76U3tnhKJ3rMbfkMGjcg9u7wqQ35RYfxisDAbm__Snx_sTdSqk6zRgJ6yr_kZq_NDcFMo4ZaAlWqfXgKl9/s320/dazzy6.jpg" width="207" height="320" /></a></div>
That chart is sortable, but if you're looking for the very best season, it doesn't really matter which of the two criteria you choose, because both sorting methods produce the same result: the best season of all time was <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/v/vanceda01.shtml">Dazzy Vance</a>'s 1924, when he came close to tripling the major league average and beat the nearest competitor by an incredible 49%. Moreover, Vance's 1925 season was nearly identical - just a hair lower in each metric. Making those accomplishments even more impressive is the fact that the man who finished a distant second in 1924 was a legendary hard-throwing ace, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/j/johnswa01.shtml">Walter Johnson</a>, the only man to win at least 400 games in the 20th century. That's how good the right-handed Vance was at striking batters out: more than 40% better than The Big Train.<br /><br /> A third Vance season (1923) is on the list as well. While Vance's 1926 and 1927 seasons are not shown in the table because he failed to beat the nearest competitor by 20% (that darned <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/g/grovele01.shtml">Lefty Grove</a>), he doubled the MLB average in each of those seasons as well.
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKcYBRj1WKZDetyfC9EHJxQb6puVVu-Ft_eWswmiv8OUFGr8OwXKrlx46_5N2vt9UPe0Grsgpb3iJpMQatyju8SV2JLBSYy41cDchpTwAE6jEf_-ZyWTOklC5u2tBVgEU39wdFFDRS_4u/s1600/dazzy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKcYBRj1WKZDetyfC9EHJxQb6puVVu-Ft_eWswmiv8OUFGr8OwXKrlx46_5N2vt9UPe0Grsgpb3iJpMQatyju8SV2JLBSYy41cDchpTwAE6jEf_-ZyWTOklC5u2tBVgEU39wdFFDRS_4u/s1600/dazzy.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />
Although he is a Hall of Famer, Vance won fewer than 200 games in his career, and had no big moments to speak of. He never pitched in the post-season until he was a 43-year-old codger in his only season in St Louis, making a single unimportant middle-relief appearance for the Gas House Gang in a 10-4 loss to the Tigers in the 1934 World Series. (The <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/teams/STL/1934.shtml">1934 Cardinals</a> could claim the presence of a Dizzy, a Dazzy, and a Daffy in the dugout!) The Dazzler did win the National League MVP award in 1924, despite the fact that <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/h/hornsro01.shtml">Rogers Hornsby</a> batted a gaudy .424 that year, so you know that Vance's contemporaries realized how good he was, but his name means nothing to most modern fans and probably creates only a blurry image even to serious students of the game's history. While most of you reading this article can immediately identify photographs of Vance's mound contemporaries Lefty Grove and Walter Johnson, only those who are truly immersed in the game can pick Vance out of a line-up. I confess that I am not among that elite group, although I spend a helluva lot of time reading and writing about baseball's past.
<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEgXXyQKQAxYXmfh_yxoB_gzovEVSpkjLgS-PrTPUVlhCDtVA0D0zDBG8BPjzdfCBfm1SWSBdumMxJEKmawC5uCCdMgik-Vv-k67Haqr8En0icWQ4GIP1nwo05rF_SPta2NlV_yAgQHUqT/s1600/Rube-Waddell-main.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEgXXyQKQAxYXmfh_yxoB_gzovEVSpkjLgS-PrTPUVlhCDtVA0D0zDBG8BPjzdfCBfm1SWSBdumMxJEKmawC5uCCdMgik-Vv-k67Haqr8En0icWQ4GIP1nwo05rF_SPta2NlV_yAgQHUqT/s320/Rube-Waddell-main.jpg" width="320" height="291" /></a></div>
Perhaps the second most impressive appearance on the list is made by a storied eccentric lefty named <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/wadderu01.shtml">Rube Waddell</a>, a guy who occasionally made his way to the ballpark when he wasn't drinking, or chasing skirts, or leading a parade, or wrestling an alligator, or endorsing products, or acting in vaudeville, or playing with stray dogs, or chasing fire trucks. Of the seventeen seasons in baseball history which met my defined criteria, Waddell had five, yet he, like Vance, failed to reach the 200-victory level in his career. The Rube was dead at the tender age of 38, but "the candle that burns twice as bright, burns half as long." In his time he had more fun than most who live a century, and he also accomplished more than most ballplayers, if perhaps not as much as warranted by his immense talent.
<br /><br /><br />
Besides Vance and Waddell, only one other pitcher made the list at least three times, the great <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/f/fellebo01.shtml">Bob Feller</a>. I don't think I need to tell you who he was, since he led the AL in wins six times, strikeouts seven times. The right-hander finished with 266 wins, although WW2 cost him 150 starts, which would have added 80-100 wins to his total.
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr0u52DSCdq-B8mb7Zzsa1DggrUHeqK22EcOpb82pru8E-VsQjLaxsFSi2brAVA7sNRK88gEUrkUIsy5tsgTGW_W8cuUPRH18ZFdh82i8HnfexsBAkrIkwvGTKcSo4sBm9U4fLhpG4qMjA/s1600/feller_collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr0u52DSCdq-B8mb7Zzsa1DggrUHeqK22EcOpb82pru8E-VsQjLaxsFSi2brAVA7sNRK88gEUrkUIsy5tsgTGW_W8cuUPRH18ZFdh82i8HnfexsBAkrIkwvGTKcSo4sBm9U4fLhpG4qMjA/s1600/feller_collage.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />
Nolan Ryan made only two appearances on the list, but what's astounding about his performances is that they occurred 13 years apart, yet appear almost identical by the ratios represented in the table. Over the course of a lengthy career, Ryan's appearance seemed to age normally, but his pitching remained remarkably consistent.
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLQREnt8lW762hN6JPt2_-jsTvk10Vu-vwsf0wgatsuCK9-5CZFxIRz4Oo8z_gl7eBeh5uA-_tsd55puc647rkPrV-6vkmKgnWKzC5avHuUruRGWRpRogiFoRwLkyLvMXN6L7RycZrv5-X/s1600/ryan_collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLQREnt8lW762hN6JPt2_-jsTvk10Vu-vwsf0wgatsuCK9-5CZFxIRz4Oo8z_gl7eBeh5uA-_tsd55puc647rkPrV-6vkmKgnWKzC5avHuUruRGWRpRogiFoRwLkyLvMXN6L7RycZrv5-X/s1600/ryan_collage.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqqvnuZorsfRs9DbQupfnkLnQaOhcwzhRsh5Mg0IFuvz7PvBEqSaoCE36OQhIkJkNU_MTvXwes7Z9Fhx-e_bomznQYzrnplX2HtQKIlBkLREqlcqmfMYnh4bJq75Cihxclj-V3pOSfheQ_/s1600/randy-johnson-mariners-tri.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqqvnuZorsfRs9DbQupfnkLnQaOhcwzhRsh5Mg0IFuvz7PvBEqSaoCE36OQhIkJkNU_MTvXwes7Z9Fhx-e_bomznQYzrnplX2HtQKIlBkLREqlcqmfMYnh4bJq75Cihxclj-V3pOSfheQ_/s200/randy-johnson-mariners-tri.jpg" width="200" height="113" /></a></div>
The Big Unit's 2001 season, when he set the record for the most strikeouts per nine innings, did appear in the table. The gigantic lefty is the most recent pitcher to make the list, and will probably be the last ever, assuming baseball's management group takes no action to curb the general rise of strikeouts, because the MLB average is now too high to double. In order to strike out twice the 2016 MLB average, a pitcher would have to amass more than sixteen Ks per nine innings.<br />
<br />
Is sixteen possible? It does not seem so. Only one pitcher after Randy Johnson has even reached twelve in the k/9 charts, and <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/sports/nationals/nats-pay-homage-to-jose-fernandez-then-marlins-honor-their-ace-with-a-win/2016/10/01/5a972f48-8736-11e6-92c2-14b64f3d453f_story.html">that young man</a> passed away less than a month ago at age 24, the victim of a tragic boating accident.
<br /><br />
The other three men on the list, each making a single appearance, are a bit more obscure.
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKW7OR3zY6H8wJ40ZlCpVfqV6iY7ugY2jHs52ami93mj8UnSFWZrnLij9r8KBot6MXIYyiNNJbSi6XtQ3XfS4CoBke2VEXLGQIYLs5_Yw0EMuRb7IPTL3zpBLNGF2nMdu_lDzEQx6NecQ/s1600/herb_score_autograph.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKW7OR3zY6H8wJ40ZlCpVfqV6iY7ugY2jHs52ami93mj8UnSFWZrnLij9r8KBot6MXIYyiNNJbSi6XtQ3XfS4CoBke2VEXLGQIYLs5_Yw0EMuRb7IPTL3zpBLNGF2nMdu_lDzEQx6NecQ/s1600/herb_score_autograph.jpg" /></a></div>
The memory of the Indians' <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/scorehe01.shtml">Herb Score</a>, the man picked by Ted Williams as the fastest lefty he ever faced, is bittersweet for most of us old-timers. He started his career very much like Dwight Gooden: already superlative in his rookie year (1955), absolutely dominant in year two. In Score's case there was no year three. On May 7, 1957, Score was hit in the eye by a line drive off the bat of Gil McDougald, and he never came back to glory. Surprisingly, it was not the line drive that ultimately ended his career, but elbow troubles. He started the 1958 season pitching as effectively as ever and the eye seemed to be fine, but he developed elbow problems that April and he never recovered. He struggled though a few more seasons, first with the Indians, then the White Sox, but his post-injury record in the majors was 17-26 with a 4.43 ERA. The saddest chapter of the story came in the minors. He spent his last season in pro ball with Indianapolis in AAA, where he was 0-6 with a 7.66 ERA, breaking the hearts of everyone who dreamt he would one day be the young Herb Score again.
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJEqFNRiTu5bgnWFxL73IfmM4s9vdv6WGGwYMlHl3jxsyNWItYbLDd92eq6maYRkgANNkb1A3pamC7H_K9tqHTo3zfBnHqLGalVAgQaoRdiWGGcCKkmtjEK7_iJVkPV05xrOw5fqEKPDs0/s1600/vandy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJEqFNRiTu5bgnWFxL73IfmM4s9vdv6WGGwYMlHl3jxsyNWItYbLDd92eq6maYRkgANNkb1A3pamC7H_K9tqHTo3zfBnHqLGalVAgQaoRdiWGGcCKkmtjEK7_iJVkPV05xrOw5fqEKPDs0/s200/vandy.jpg" width="200" height="145" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/v/vandejo01.shtml">Johnny Vander Meer</a> finished his career with a losing record, and he made this list only because he met the criteria in a player-poor war year, but he is duly famous for another very impressive feat: in 1938, as a very young man (23), the lefty pitched two consecutive no-hitters, making him the first and still the only man in baseball history to do so. And he did that in his first full season in the bigs! Making the second game even more historic, it came in the first night game ever played in New York City. Many baseball savants thought back then that Vander Meer's potential was enormous but, like Herb Score, The Dutch Master peaked at 23 and fought his way through injuries in his remaining years. When I lived on the west coast of Florida back in the 70s and 80s, a good friend of mine was close to Vander Meer. Each of them, through independent concatenations of circumstances, had moved from Cincinnati and had eventually landed in Tampa. I never met Vander Meer, but my friend told me that the pitcher felt unjustly ignored by the Hall of Fame. If a man with a lifetime record of 119-121 felt slighted by the Hall, you can imagine how a great player like Edgar Martinez must feel.
<br /><br />
Left-handed <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/seymocy01.shtml">Cy Seymour</a> is the last name on the list and in some ways the most interesting. Seymour was the strikeout king in 1897-1899, but went on to a great major league career as an outfielder!
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1fVyPHR7NMdMUl8Wsn0tzERO7HIh8yhz5dFjm2r7diV1OSETNoSZ4j2nCCI1quf68nfAG97TMw1xJFCcODr3tNZVMcv85NClnmj_hYRDjaExnq_9eZYgD4hqbOVhEc9YjKF_LzqnJ4k5k/s1600/Cy-seymour.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1fVyPHR7NMdMUl8Wsn0tzERO7HIh8yhz5dFjm2r7diV1OSETNoSZ4j2nCCI1quf68nfAG97TMw1xJFCcODr3tNZVMcv85NClnmj_hYRDjaExnq_9eZYgD4hqbOVhEc9YjKF_LzqnJ4k5k/s200/Cy-seymour.jpg" width="103" height="200" /></a></div>In order to tell his story, I'm just going to quote from <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/75e80904">his SABR bio</a>: "If a young, successful major league pitcher had decided to become an outfielder in 2001, it would have been news. And if he had hit above .300 for the next five straight years, culminating in 2005 by winning the league's batting crown with a .377 average, he would have graced magazine covers. Finally, if upon his retirement in 2010, he had accumulated 1700 hits and generated a lifetime batting average of .303 to go along with his sixty-plus pitching victories, writers would be salivating at the opportunity to elect him to the Hall of Fame. A century ago there was just a player who collected 1723 hits and became a lifetime .303 hitter after winning 61 games as a major league pitcher. His name was James Bentley 'Cy' Seymour, perhaps the greatest forgotten name of baseball."
</div>
Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-67581086384125966822016-10-09T20:50:00.001-07:002022-10-31T23:51:13.160-07:00The Black Sox, Part VI: Tying Up The Loose Ends, Wrapping It Up<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
It's been a while since I finished Part V, so I guess we need a "previously on ..."<br />
<br />
This series recalls the infamous Black Sox mainly through the stories of four main figures who have captured the public imagination over the years:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Part I: <a href="http://scoopyballpark.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-black-sox-part-i-bucky.html">Bucky Weaver</a></li>
<li>Part II: <a href="http://scoopyballpark.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-black-sox-part-ii-shoeless-joe.html">Shoeless Joe Jackson</a></li>
<li>Part III: <a href="http://scoopyballpark.blogspot.com/2016/05/the-black-sox-part-iii-big-bankroll.html">Arnold Rothstein</a></li>
<li>Part IV: <a href="http://scoopyballpark.blogspot.com/2016/05/the-black-sox-part-v-commy.html">Charles Comiskey</a></li>
<li>Part V: <a href="http://scoopyballpark.blogspot.com/2016/05/the-black-sox-part-iv-follow-money.html">"Follow the Money"</a></li>
</ul><br />
<br />
This is the finale, Part VI: Tying Up The Loose Ends, Wrapping It Up.<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">Other factual errors and misrepresentations about the scandal</span></b><br />
<br />
Apart from those treated in earlier parts of this series, there are additional misconceptions you may have acquired from cultural mythology, urban legends, the defense arguments in the Black Sox criminal trial, <a href="http://www.thenationalpastimemuseum.com/article/black-sox-scandal-cold-case-not-closed-case">Eliot Asinof's book "Eight Men Out,"</a> or the movie version of that book<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="color: yellow; text-align: center;">
<b><b>Claim: They were called the "Black Sox" before the scandal.</b></b></div>
<br />
<br />
It was not Eliot Asinof, but one of his muses, Nelson Algren, who fixed this belief in the public consciousness. He wrote the following in "Ballet for Opening Day," which was basically a faithfully condensed paraphrase of Asinof's 8MO narrative in Algren's own elegant style:<br />
<blockquote>
"Eastern fans began jeering Mr. Comiskey's players as "Black Sox" before that appellation signified anything more scandalous than neglecting to launder their uniforms. The old man was so begrudging about laundry bills that his players looked as if they put on their uniforms opening day in the coal yard behind Mr. Comiskey's park; and hadn't changed them since."</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQBTKGX6RpbMPKjaGhC2rTtm0NxTLrlzcKFMHvvoy5KoFkCFOFmMdz9hO4U8c8Dnl_P_t7v3tgUN8-dH8aNzqX0grjM6aPQmbOgpAMWxEf_-U3l3JNri3x9R8nJ6hGCKxQA1wRDV9CqB5/s1600/The_Atlanta_Constitution_Wed__Jul_21__1920_.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQBTKGX6RpbMPKjaGhC2rTtm0NxTLrlzcKFMHvvoy5KoFkCFOFmMdz9hO4U8c8Dnl_P_t7v3tgUN8-dH8aNzqX0grjM6aPQmbOgpAMWxEf_-U3l3JNri3x9R8nJ6hGCKxQA1wRDV9CqB5/s320/The_Atlanta_Constitution_Wed__Jul_21__1920_.jpg" width="298" /></a><br />
This is an urban myth based upon the presupposition that Charles Comiskey was a skinflint.<br />
<br />
The team we know as the White Sox was not called the Black Sox until the scandal broke, and the only contemporaneous mention of their dirty uniforms referred specifically to Bucky Weaver, who could always be identified from the stands because his dirty uniform stood out from the crowd (which implies that the others were clean).<br />
<br />
Other than the possibility that it is a pure fabrication necessary to sustain a shaky assumption, there are other possible explanations for the origin of this myth. Algren was a Chicagoan, and may have been influenced by the fact that there were two other contexts in which the term "Chicago Black Sox" was used before the scandal.<br />
<br />
<br />
1. There was a contemporaneous team officially called the Chicago Black Sox. They were a team of African-American players. Such teams existed throughout the country because baseball was segregated until 1947. The ad above is from the Atlanta Constitution, July 21, 1920, just months after the tainted World Series, but before the players confessed to the grand jury.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7LzZd70WK-0ohvzLg_igzUmgMyp8ObhPnuqWuCR1VlZGmTKwqzcfhgBT98fKsh9uou6BWpcmzZ2sf2xwuryn1qrnpj-FcbuT1T0lI0solwbjJKi1uCb7hUc_cJ73bw9W9oT5jngEs5Pg/s1600/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Fri__Oct_12__1888_.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7LzZd70WK-0ohvzLg_igzUmgMyp8ObhPnuqWuCR1VlZGmTKwqzcfhgBT98fKsh9uou6BWpcmzZ2sf2xwuryn1qrnpj-FcbuT1T0lI0solwbjJKi1uCb7hUc_cJ73bw9W9oT5jngEs5Pg/s200/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Fri__Oct_12__1888_.jpg" /></a></div>
2. Back in the early days of baseball, when real men wore handlebar mustaches, bicycles (called penny-farthings) had giant front wheels, and Cap Anson ran the only major league team in Chicago, team nicknames were fluid. The newspapers might refer to the Chicago National League team by a variety of nicknames: as the White Stockings, the Nationals, the Ansons - and even the Black Sox, as shown in the column to the right from the Chicago Tribune, October 12, 1888.<br />
<br />
So there had been a major league team called the Chicago Black Sox before the scandal, albeit only in passing, but it was not Mr. Comiskey's White Sox. It was the National League franchise that still exists today and eventually settled on a single nickname - the Cubs.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="color: yellow; text-align: center;">
<b>Claim: the players' signed confessions mysteriously disappeared</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<b><br /></b>
It's another great scene in the film "Eight Men Out": during the trial the prosecution has to admit that their most important evidence has disappeared.<br />
<br />
Of course, that ignores the fact that there never were any signed confessions in the first place. The missing items were (unsigned) transcripts of the grand jury proceedings in which three of the players had admitted their guilt, plus their (signed) waivers of immunity, indicating that they understood that their testimony could later be used against them, and that they were vulnerable to prosecution based on that testimony.<br />
<br />
There were all sorts of rumors about where the documents had gone, and accusations flew wildly around New York and Chicago, but none of that really made any difference. The trial transcript was just a typed version of the court stenographer's notes, and those notes were not missing, so it was a simple matter to get a replacement copy. As for the waiver of immunity, the players had not signed those documents in a vacuum, so it was another simple matter to find the people who were in the room at the time, and to enter their statements into the record, thus attesting that the waivers had been signed. There was an evidentiary hearing to determine whether the substitutions were admissible. They were so ruled, and entered into evidence. The missing documents generated lots of legal rigmarole, but no genuine drama.<br />
<br />
The only interesting thing about the entire process was that it was the only time that any of the accused players took the stand in the criminal trial. The three who had confessed to the grand jury (Jackson, Williams and Cicotte) took the stand in the criminal proceedings to testify that they had been promised immunity in return for their honesty before the grand jury, and had not realized that they contradicted that claim by signing a waiver document that they did not understand and, in Jackson's case, could not read.<br />
<br />
Because their accounts were so consistent, I believe they were probably telling the truth, and that the judge could have disallowed the confessions on that basis, but that's not what happened, nor is it what was most interesting in that phase of the trial. The element that would really work well in a movie would be Shoeless Joe's colorful testimony at this time, which I'm just going to let you read about for yourself from a contemporary paper (NY Times, July 26, 1921):<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT-50kJDfVmnjrVo7c_-N8JEFw2yTMjw-3HkPtowe6Dg8uOFbz_2VnVqdU4tB4GcV7PTKrqSAyYag13ct5wqe6wmQTeXMncyF4XGRbqnxvomZdvVzxDHGiEIqsj1qPeW0mZa5GAPvv3fwB/s1600/The_New_York_Times_Tue__Jul_26__1921_hooch.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT-50kJDfVmnjrVo7c_-N8JEFw2yTMjw-3HkPtowe6Dg8uOFbz_2VnVqdU4tB4GcV7PTKrqSAyYag13ct5wqe6wmQTeXMncyF4XGRbqnxvomZdvVzxDHGiEIqsj1qPeW0mZa5GAPvv3fwB/s1600/The_New_York_Times_Tue__Jul_26__1921_hooch.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
There is one missing confession that remains a mystery to this day, although it was not related to the legal proceedings. Before he was transported to the grand jury, Eddie Cicotte testified in the office of the legal representation of the White Sox. Cicotte's admissions in that office were said to be far more expansive and detailed than his grand jury testimony, and the details would be of immense interest to Black Sox researchers. Sadly, all that survives is the front page, seen below.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj37MJC8_5Jg3CPH5yQcwS3-4PQtAHbdx9jguZm675TFVEQn0uuY7Xj9I1vqKcK0qnJw9edbz6FOKR_dAKk_aV6KuI2_gWGgvXiy0Kcyx5jLR_C1lDjjNT0nL3K3Xn03OdtAA7SFrRSV53c/s1600/part-of-cicotte-confession-clean2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj37MJC8_5Jg3CPH5yQcwS3-4PQtAHbdx9jguZm675TFVEQn0uuY7Xj9I1vqKcK0qnJw9edbz6FOKR_dAKk_aV6KuI2_gWGgvXiy0Kcyx5jLR_C1lDjjNT0nL3K3Xn03OdtAA7SFrRSV53c/s1600/part-of-cicotte-confession-clean2.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="color: yellow; text-align: center;">
<b>Claim: "Say it ain't so, Joe."</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<br />
This is a case where the movie version of "Eight Men Out" did better than the book.<br />
<br />
The book repeats an anecdote from the Chicago Herald and Examiner (September 30, 1920):<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
"As Jackson departed from the Grand Jury room, a small boy clutched at his sleeve and tagged along after him.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
'Say it ain't so, Joe,' he pleaded. 'Say it ain't so.'</blockquote>
<blockquote>
'Yes, kid, I'm afraid it is,' Jackson replied."</blockquote>
Jackson denied that any such exchange existed. Of course, he denied a lot of things that really did happen, but this dialogue is uncorroborated.<br />
<br />
The movie's version is far more credible. The youngster said the same words, but Jackson just cast his eyes downward, turned his back and walked away. It is not possible to prove that a boy actually made such a statement at that time, but it absolutely could have happened. As Jackson left the courthouse, accompanied by bailiffs, he paused to talk to the crowds, as seen in the newsreel footage below.<br />
<br />
<center>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ULufHZOOtAM?rel=0" width="420"></iframe></center>
<br />
<br />
Many things must have been shouted at him by bystanders, and the thing that was in their hearts and on their lips was almost precisely "Say it ain't so, Joe." We know this because of an incident that took place between the first revelation of the scandal and the suspension of the players. Author James T. Farrell was 16 and living in Chicago at the time of the grand jury hearings. He reported in "My Baseball Diary" that many boys, and men as well, hearing of the accusations and attending the next day's game, cried from the stands, "It ain't true, Joe" when the players emerged from their locker room, but Joe and Happy Felsch just walked away silently to their cars. The poignant details follow:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikyBj3iBXW3qzsfY_aOypVt3RGgRHyuUmNj34dK2yHQFSyu4H7x6dXBbbDufjn3Rm6dQQOGn-fHlO63p_EG27ZRlOVpzoeU579ExW24i-yj5bnZFwtA_aIdYHgzeI7_6o3eV0vlHBGZkb/s1600/Farrell_It_Aint_True.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikyBj3iBXW3qzsfY_aOypVt3RGgRHyuUmNj34dK2yHQFSyu4H7x6dXBbbDufjn3Rm6dQQOGn-fHlO63p_EG27ZRlOVpzoeU579ExW24i-yj5bnZFwtA_aIdYHgzeI7_6o3eV0vlHBGZkb/s1600/Farrell_It_Aint_True.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Given reasonable narrative license, the screenplay got this one right.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">Various items that don't fit elsewhere in the narrative.</span></b><br />
<br /><br />
<div style="color: yellow; text-align: center;">
<b>When they were young and there were only White Sox in white baseball</b></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4p-oGLdwpOh3DgJoN46ToX0Uo6vjoP7-IqMOjKBxOeZXHT4WkNtbflhhQn86sToyu0HIUKismBEf_jGoKW0YfUakuHE96yqHldDKYz3j4gByafYhMIqcxG61ynZJ5rUe4STQn4OCh15Dw/s1600/Eddie_Collins_1911.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4p-oGLdwpOh3DgJoN46ToX0Uo6vjoP7-IqMOjKBxOeZXHT4WkNtbflhhQn86sToyu0HIUKismBEf_jGoKW0YfUakuHE96yqHldDKYz3j4gByafYhMIqcxG61ynZJ5rUe4STQn4OCh15Dw/s1600/Eddie_Collins_1911.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
Eddie Collins, team captain of the 1919 White Sox, was a straight shooter who never participated in the fix in any way. He is often considered the greatest second baseman in the history of the game, and is always ranked in the top four (with Morgan, Hornsby and Lajoie) in sabermetric measurements of full careers. A college graduate, he went on to become a baseball executive and eventually rose to the position of general manager of the Red Sox. He is pictured above in 1911, at age 24, when he was a key component of the famous "$100,000 infield" of the Philadelphia Athletics, world's champions in 1910, 1911 and 1913.
<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKimVpdYZYdbZDVeVCQgO-BMhc6R80AiDSknk8jAvKjEb6I1-WIWj6AEs070eXQyJsugsxKDSd8KX_zheEmQO6T6z6gkoL2zk9rG4V0cAzddiZN5mAoTcf0nxMQP9Q8KD7FW6RTMZgZAGH/s1600/1913_Happy_Felsch.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKimVpdYZYdbZDVeVCQgO-BMhc6R80AiDSknk8jAvKjEb6I1-WIWj6AEs070eXQyJsugsxKDSd8KX_zheEmQO6T6z6gkoL2zk9rG4V0cAzddiZN5mAoTcf0nxMQP9Q8KD7FW6RTMZgZAGH/s1600/1913_Happy_Felsch.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
Born and raised in Milwaukee, Happy Felsch was a hometown hero in the minors when he played for the Fond du Lac Molls (C ball) and the Milwaukee Brewers (AA) in his first two years as a professional ballplayer. He is pictured above in his Fond du Lac uniform, when he was a 21-year-old wunderkind in C ball. Hap hit 18 homers in 92 games for the Molls (about one every five games), which represented immense power production during the deadball era. The major league White Sox hit only 24 homers in 153 games that year (about one every six games - for the whole team).
<br /><br /><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLU1dKaB02LObb3HgZAA5r_kZbv1OxATpGT6MIMliMBhD4yByNz4iUlA5lm8khVH09ts28YLostoiCK-ZnpMepd40HJvrm3EXPLIhlvu3mRGKlBy-ApY-y5ufx1a4E558VdgTLomspMRK_/s1600/Gandil_senators_1913a.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLU1dKaB02LObb3HgZAA5r_kZbv1OxATpGT6MIMliMBhD4yByNz4iUlA5lm8khVH09ts28YLostoiCK-ZnpMepd40HJvrm3EXPLIhlvu3mRGKlBy-ApY-y5ufx1a4E558VdgTLomspMRK_/s1600/Gandil_senators_1913a.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">A young Chick Gandil (age 25) is pictured as a member of the 1913 Washington Senators.</div>
<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnD6b8vyaj-I_MDCT2YcKPdbGB_h4xvURVVfr7yrn-tTpEfAFUdQL6L0QDtCbWJNOtTcU7faIB1zQCpQwvb0lgzeAx7Bk8o3awlaH0DIRU0HOXoVJ3OMo8iGYgZThZ_72MXea_0Ro7T_r8/s1600/lefty_williams.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnD6b8vyaj-I_MDCT2YcKPdbGB_h4xvURVVfr7yrn-tTpEfAFUdQL6L0QDtCbWJNOtTcU7faIB1zQCpQwvb0lgzeAx7Bk8o3awlaH0DIRU0HOXoVJ3OMo8iGYgZThZ_72MXea_0Ro7T_r8/s1600/lefty_williams.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
Lefty Williams, age 23, pitching for the White Sox in 1916. Reflecting the confidence the team had in him despite his youth, Williams led the team in games started that year, although it was his first full year in the majors and two of his teammates were Eddie Cicotte and Hall of Famer Red Faber.
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<div style="color: yellow; text-align: center;">
<b>Images and videos from the 1919 World Series</b></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxwVmOFJNH8bpzgeShfNEqMKxRxwyZHkvS_YHK1JP7cbl1qVJtTxmbloQ8VXQyrav0lVDn7QtLHVuapQCDynGyZU3reMBLyazHt5Dy-QNbPy4ke2lzUOsHu9UFrqj1uFB3HvzJDCs26XVU/s1600/1919WhiteSox.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxwVmOFJNH8bpzgeShfNEqMKxRxwyZHkvS_YHK1JP7cbl1qVJtTxmbloQ8VXQyrav0lVDn7QtLHVuapQCDynGyZU3reMBLyazHt5Dy-QNbPy4ke2lzUOsHu9UFrqj1uFB3HvzJDCs26XVU/s1600/1919WhiteSox.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">The 1919 Chicago White Sox.</div><br />
<br />
The "Black Sox" in the picture (click to enlarge) are as follows:
<br />
<br />
Back row: Counting from the left, #5 is Swede Risberg; #6 is Fred McMullin; #9 is Shoeless Joe Jackson.
<br />
<br />
Center row: Counting from the left, #5 is Happy Felsch; #6 is Chick Gandil; #7 is Bucky Weaver.
<br />
<br />
Front row: Counting from the left, #3 is Eddie Cicotte; #5 is Lefty Williams.
<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAs4tImD2SnmmKg6dzbeLlxSlUUt783Tl_oTLXsNwRdSgQu9TdqypwUDdrmOVTMDIlK7kSLdc2ItTebD8CvNd8QLch66QXLEMDJJyERvXRmlNcl-7Vh3BZnIQWOL29zQnf7-yI4sjugXzw/s1600/Black+Sox-111.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAs4tImD2SnmmKg6dzbeLlxSlUUt783Tl_oTLXsNwRdSgQu9TdqypwUDdrmOVTMDIlK7kSLdc2ItTebD8CvNd8QLch66QXLEMDJJyERvXRmlNcl-7Vh3BZnIQWOL29zQnf7-yI4sjugXzw/s1600/Black+Sox-111.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
The 1919 Chicago White Sox starting outfielders (left) and infielders. Shano Collins and Nemo Leibold, both of whom were "Clean Sox," platooned in right field.
<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVtTXhGl6QJ0bkRQocMXOWKWOay08oWxT5z4bMu6-ouFAXlwwyjMILBu1U6RwQrU_mGbo8jDaedVhyphenhypheny1XlHGfiynAdB_95V_eLkAK4q_mKx3LowYtX2WCp9Ep3BfM2XC0kkz_TB4lsFqKz/s1600/1919-Reds.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVtTXhGl6QJ0bkRQocMXOWKWOay08oWxT5z4bMu6-ouFAXlwwyjMILBu1U6RwQrU_mGbo8jDaedVhyphenhypheny1XlHGfiynAdB_95V_eLkAK4q_mKx3LowYtX2WCp9Ep3BfM2XC0kkz_TB4lsFqKz/s1600/1919-Reds.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Their World Series opponents, the 1919 Cincinnati Reds.</div><br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS_-AT5hrzt1636hNIjlvF3xnZ6WJs6qE0QmCtiQufSAV-4j1fHXkh8UFNk46rnz0xiElznsXa4B-i3bce_ujak2cKiytQtBOj6F9nYcPJ3WQZZ7aZa-nXJEKROGMhXtO4hArovRagK8QU/s1600/1919_raincheck.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS_-AT5hrzt1636hNIjlvF3xnZ6WJs6qE0QmCtiQufSAV-4j1fHXkh8UFNk46rnz0xiElznsXa4B-i3bce_ujak2cKiytQtBOj6F9nYcPJ3WQZZ7aZa-nXJEKROGMhXtO4hArovRagK8QU/s1600/1919_raincheck.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br /><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOtZ-IRo2ic_BR8hgShT2SR8PBj4FDgN6U8StMGYNQj7N6onIGDRaaD1DsQBPeCnIeHtx-MjH-3V7HuYnspVq_3B3UoiO20Z-HnRGAR7UjUsydXt9NbQN9F1tOoMDtjbBBDt-6LHm62tz/s1600/chi-sox8action2-20110510.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOtZ-IRo2ic_BR8hgShT2SR8PBj4FDgN6U8StMGYNQj7N6onIGDRaaD1DsQBPeCnIeHtx-MjH-3V7HuYnspVq_3B3UoiO20Z-HnRGAR7UjUsydXt9NbQN9F1tOoMDtjbBBDt-6LHm62tz/s1600/chi-sox8action2-20110510.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
The Reds bat against Eddie Cicotte in game one of the Series in Cincinnati. Ray Schalk is the catcher; Bucky Weaver is playing third; Joe Jackson is in left. It's impossible to identify the batter, since seven of the nine Reds batted lefty against Cicotte.
<br /><br /><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLeVDYp3Ccp9S84-iZXY0wyH1Ms9BgTNuIr93zuP6dI3v_4jwNyGib8-rl1BbbwEEsib8gPFpTkH4OeBB6XARNyS3BZZqQ59hD0Gw_-sLhWxrhLlkC1-BafYwOIuXd-a0lQyRzWxF3vAr/s1600/chi-sox8action1-19191001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLeVDYp3Ccp9S84-iZXY0wyH1Ms9BgTNuIr93zuP6dI3v_4jwNyGib8-rl1BbbwEEsib8gPFpTkH4OeBB6XARNyS3BZZqQ59hD0Gw_-sLhWxrhLlkC1-BafYwOIuXd-a0lQyRzWxF3vAr/s1600/chi-sox8action1-19191001.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Game 1, Inning 2: Gandil is out at second on a throw from Larry Kopf to Morrie Rath.</div>
<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<center>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/pWLkEdhX4FI?rel=0" width="560"></iframe>
<br /><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0mPHqbJXDQI?rel=0" width="560"></iframe>
<br /><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/P3fRvIIVn3M?rel=0" width="560"></iframe></center>
<br /><br />
The three videos above represent the available film footage of the 1919 Series. The first has been around for a long time. The second <a href="http://sabr.org/latest/rare-footage-1919-world-series-action-discovered-canadian-archive">was discovered recently</a>. The third tiny snippet is the only film footage (I know of) that shows Lefty Williams in action.
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<div style="color: yellow; text-align: center;">
<b>Following the trials in the newspapers. More details.</b></div>
<br />
<br />
I didn't include the following articles in the main body of the essays for several reasons, varying by article. Some were sidebars of marginal interest; others duplicated information found elsewhere; still others were riddled with inaccuracies. It is my sad duty to report that a look back at the reporting of the day exposes many flaws in contemporaneous American journalism, particularly in terms of false and misleading accusations printed as if they were certainties. (Fair warning: very large files, therefore slow downloads. You must be patient.)
<br /><br />
<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="8">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top" width="60">Date<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Topic<br />
</td>
<td valign="top" width="80">Newspaper<br />
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">9/25/20<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">"Inside story of plot to buy World's Series."
This "inside story" is based on secret grand jury testimony,
therefore filled with inaccuracies. It did report correctly,
however, that eight of the White Sox had had their Series
pay held up by the Sox, and it named the correct players. (<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sat__Sep_25__1920_.jpg">Front
Page</a>, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sat__Sep_25__1920_1.jpg">Continued</a>).</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">9/26/20<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">More grand jury leaks. <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sun__Sep_26__1920_.jpg">"First
Evidence of Money Paid to Sox" </a>(Front Page,
Continued). More bad reporting: this includes the report of
a mysterious package, which turned out to be a red herring,
carried by Fred McMullin to Buck Weaver's house. The
information was not proven false, but simply irrelevant, and
therefore was sensationalized, to the long-term detriment of
Weaver's public image. (<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sun__Sep_26__1920_1.jpg">Continuation
of the story</a>.)<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune<br />
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">9/28/20<br />
</td>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/The_Pittsburgh_Press_Tue__Sep_28__1920_.jpg">"Indict
8 White Sox"</a> This story is basically correct. It
reveals that Cicotte confessed after being outed by Billy
Maharg's interview in the Philadelphia papers.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Pittsburgh Press<br />
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">9/29/20<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">"<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Wed__Sep_29__1920_sox_confess_headline.jpg">Two
Sox Confess</a>" "Eight Indicted; Inquiry Goes On." There
is one dangerously misleading claim in the story. Joe
Jackson did not admit throwing the World Series, although he
did admit accepting money to do so, and asking for that
money several times.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">9/29/20<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">A summary of the case so far. If the Trib
story was essentially correct, this Washington Times story
was lurid and highly inaccurate. It quotes the grand jury
testimony of Joe Jackson and Eddie Cicotte, although we now
know that they never made the admissions contained herein.
It also gives a putative $100,000 distribution that
stretches all credulity, although some of the individual
players' payouts may be correct. It also suggests that the
1920 World Series was going to be crooked. It does
accurately report that Happy Felsch had confessed to a
reporter. (<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/The_Washington_Times_Wed__Sep_29__1920_inaccurate_reporting.jpg">Front
Page</a>, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/The_Washington_Times_Wed__Sep_29__1920_1.jpg">Additional
Story</a>)<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Washington Times<br />
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">9/29/20<br />
</td>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/The_Sun_and_The_New_York_Herald_Wed__Sep_29__1920_.jpg">This
New York Herald story</a>, from the sports section on the
29th, sticks to the facts, identifies and fleshes out the
indicted players and discusses the impact of the indictments
on the White Sox' chances for the 1920 pennant. (The season
was still underway, and the Sox were a close second.) The
sports reporters were doing better than the investigative
journalists at this point.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">New York Herald<br />
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">9/30/20<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">An interesting sidebar. The grand jury probe
was halted because of internecine warfare in the state's
attorney's office between the outgoing and incoming
administrations. This would prove somewhat important in the
future, because the outgoing staff seems to have
inappropriately commandeered some of the evidence on their
way out the door. (<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Thu__Sep_30__1920_%20frontpage.jpg">Front
Page</a>, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Thu__Sep_30__1920_continued.jpg">Continued</a>).</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">10/1/20<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">One of the most egregious examples of
misreporting. <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Felsch_gambling_rumor-misreporting-ElPaso_Herald-100120.jpg">The
story alleges</a> that Happy Felsch won $15,000 by betting
his $5,000 payoff against the Sox in game two of the Series.
It was a ludicrous claim in two ways: (1) bookmakers do not
offer odds like that on any baseball game, let alone on the
stronger team, (2) Felsch didn't even get his $5,000 payoff
until after game four or five.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">El Paso Herald<br />
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">12/19/20<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Sidebar. <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sun__Dec_19__1920_.jpg">One
of the umpires in the Series</a> says he never suspected a
thing.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">3/13/21<br />
</td>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sun__Mar_13__1921_.jpg">Commissioner
Landis rules</a> the indicted players ineligible to play
until they demonstrate to him that they are clean.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">3/27/21<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Sidebar. The Trib hilariously declared in
Spring Training that a "<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sun__Mar_27__1921_.jpg">Tip
Top Team Rises From Sox Ruins</a>." The team had played
.629 ball in 1919 with all eight of the banished players,
and .623 ball in 1920 with seven of them (ex Gandil, but
with his loss neutralized by the presence of Hall of Famer
Red Faber back on the mound after bouts of illness), but
they fell to 62-92 (.403) in 1921. That represented a drop
of 34 games. Fred McMullin was strictly a replacement
player, so the loss of the other six men seems to have cost
the team almost six games apiece, which is quite consistent
with their combined WAR (26.7 in 1920). Five of them were
stars, and Risberg was a decent major leaguer,<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">7/19/21<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">The trial has begun.<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Tue__Jul_19__1921_.jpg">
The defense attacks Comiskey</a> when he takes the stand.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">7/23/21<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">It is revealed that <a href="Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sat__Jul_23__1921_attell_bet_two_games_and_the_series.jpg">the
immunity waivers have been lost</a>. Sidebar: Abe Attell
told one witness that he bet $2,000 on the series against
the Reds, in order to establish an alibi. Great details
about Attell and his bushel basket full of money.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">7/24/21<br />
</td>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sun__Jul_24__1921_.jpg">Billy
Maharg tells the court</a> how he tracked down Sleepy Bill
Burns in Mexico.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">7/25/21<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">In an evidentiary phase of the trial, out of
the jury's earshot, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/LAHerald-Monday_Jul_25_1921.jpg">Eddie
Cicotte says he was promised immunity</a> in return for
honest and full disclosure to the grand jury, then tricked
into signing a waiver of that immunity. A key detail
is that he never denied any of his testimony, but simply
said that he was misled. The other two confessions, from
Williams and Jackson, seem to have followed the same path.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">L.A. Herald<br />
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">7/26/21<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">The trial judge rules that <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Tue__Jul_26__1921_.jpg">the
players' grand jury testimony is admissible</a>, but only
the part where they admitted their own misdeeds, and not when they implicated any teammates.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">7/28/21<br />
</td>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Thu__Jul_28__1921_.jpg">The
defense presents evidence</a> that the Series was played
on the square.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">7/29/21<br />
</td>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Fri__Jul_29__1921.jpg">The
defense claims</a> that manager Kid Gleason's testimony
refutes the allegations of the state's star witness, Sleepy
Bill Burns, but the value of the contradiction seems to have
been exaggerated. <br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">7/30/21<br />
</td>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sat__Jul_30__1921_.jpg">The
prosecution says</a> the Sox should be found guilty on the
basis of their confessions alone.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">8/4/21<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">The story reports that <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Thu__Aug_4__1921.jpg">baseball's
moguls will support Landis' decision</a> to ban the
acquitted players.<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Chicago Tribune</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">2/17-18/29<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">Many years later, Ban Johnson delivers a
self-serving series of articles about how he cleaned up the
game. Johnson, president of the AL during the scandal, was
instrumental in forcing the case to proceed, especially in
his efforts to find Sleepy Bill Burns. This kept the case
from stalling out, but Johnson fails to explain why he took
no action when Comiskey told him after the first game that
some players were in the tank. (<a href="St__Louis_Post_Dispatch_Sun__Feb_17__1929_Ban_Johnsons_version-1.jpg">1</a>,
<a href="St__Louis_Post_Dispatch_Sun__Feb_17__1929_Ban_Johnsons_version-2.jpg">2</a>,
<a href="St__Louis_Post_Dispatch_Mon__Feb_18__1929_Ban_Johnsons_version-2.jpg">3</a>)<br />
</td>
<td valign="top">St. Louis Post Dispatch<br />
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<div style="color: yellow; text-align: center;">
<b>Some images from the days of the trials.</b></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-TsXHBzRv2co9nfAA6fjs8HQI0boz8KjadPiNVz78rS8sLGecyArKAzhhTXH7OydC8MMpwKpm0IvHD6V6oUpWDCRqJy55FO69dwi3zcQJAd62dFSQOpFr5ia8sKngpMkUUVmJt0q0Mba/s1600/billburns-a.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-TsXHBzRv2co9nfAA6fjs8HQI0boz8KjadPiNVz78rS8sLGecyArKAzhhTXH7OydC8MMpwKpm0IvHD6V6oUpWDCRqJy55FO69dwi3zcQJAd62dFSQOpFr5ia8sKngpMkUUVmJt0q0Mba/s1600/billburns-a.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Sleepy Bill Burns Testifies</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUmqHlHV8cu7kpY6SCwl8m6hbuDbvhoAsa3OAKvNrDp7CxJrvEEtiB8Mx2qhyphenhyphenX0TvJ_m44MLbH9UYeT3VqQPAyXly3-F-OuL8vNZe9GqAFgnGmZb9Hm70uW6ld5McdYM1w1KQG2PBFyqXg/s1600/risberg-19991223.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUmqHlHV8cu7kpY6SCwl8m6hbuDbvhoAsa3OAKvNrDp7CxJrvEEtiB8Mx2qhyphenhyphenX0TvJ_m44MLbH9UYeT3VqQPAyXly3-F-OuL8vNZe9GqAFgnGmZb9Hm70uW6ld5McdYM1w1KQG2PBFyqXg/s1600/risberg-19991223.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Swede Risberg in street clothes</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_uGc85X3YJSJzZ50apL-F0VT4bJjR3XoF-LH1AOMl13GHIJwzuAkuUNV7ligdjyP3AoI8upI3SwCucLJ0TRVQnu6CBlaE6ftuAvqAasUOhtDJr9QL0otxdA1z410YwcVm1hw3uGstkDaS/s1600/1921BuckWeaverandSwedeRisberg.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_uGc85X3YJSJzZ50apL-F0VT4bJjR3XoF-LH1AOMl13GHIJwzuAkuUNV7ligdjyP3AoI8upI3SwCucLJ0TRVQnu6CBlaE6ftuAvqAasUOhtDJr9QL0otxdA1z410YwcVm1hw3uGstkDaS/s1600/1921BuckWeaverandSwedeRisberg.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Defendants Swede Risberg (R) and Buck Weaver assume a confident air for the photographer.</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-XmO14g7xKGJlTdq1w-PB5Zt8KfSjnY0yDBWoKWpN5JQeadzF0o-FoU6C79ZuNHY5QEs2g_tXtGyur-pFeepmOwNLD6SSZdOfQ6SFTSExFeV2iA_pnQw-7si7JOfHZOzDuIi-am_BKrc/s1600/risberg-left-felsch-right-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-XmO14g7xKGJlTdq1w-PB5Zt8KfSjnY0yDBWoKWpN5JQeadzF0o-FoU6C79ZuNHY5QEs2g_tXtGyur-pFeepmOwNLD6SSZdOfQ6SFTSExFeV2iA_pnQw-7si7JOfHZOzDuIi-am_BKrc/s1600/risberg-left-felsch-right-2.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Risberg (L) and Felsch (R) discuss their legal options with Attorney Ray Cannon (C)</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Vk8DWgwZElxi_krKkoBQ9E28KbFMlc0sr-6XCYqR6C475WdChLdOCTvsWjKPXjgy82zQABfhAFVKCoaPui1smCGuflizS9HwZHvY8SWldKKdpzpnOckFj1bhr3Z-k4Hz7uS62QFQXjUa/s1600/cicotte-happy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Vk8DWgwZElxi_krKkoBQ9E28KbFMlc0sr-6XCYqR6C475WdChLdOCTvsWjKPXjgy82zQABfhAFVKCoaPui1smCGuflizS9HwZHvY8SWldKKdpzpnOckFj1bhr3Z-k4Hz7uS62QFQXjUa/s1600/cicotte-happy.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Happy Felsch (L) and Eddie Cicotte during a trial break.</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6kMqn9Uin1Olj1z1qeA843Ge9OnfKKKGFkXTWUtgrj7YFI-litcTgoBwvOy7ruZiwO-R56V77ha6XMOuIfZBJScPwCUqNIv7mDzQrHaknoY1bkK6o-50cDppXnmFDAsJ42M34hxu66QMt/s1600/1921KidGleasonWhiteSoxlookingatthecamerastandinginfrontofabuilding.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6kMqn9Uin1Olj1z1qeA843Ge9OnfKKKGFkXTWUtgrj7YFI-litcTgoBwvOy7ruZiwO-R56V77ha6XMOuIfZBJScPwCUqNIv7mDzQrHaknoY1bkK6o-50cDppXnmFDAsJ42M34hxu66QMt/s1600/1921KidGleasonWhiteSoxlookingatthecamerastandinginfrontofabuilding.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Kid Gleason, the manager of the Sox, was a reluctant witness.</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggKDMk-SDQRTt_7GWLwvFgoDLi4V6ymlStzn3DTS_j1tFU4aWwjh_oGZzHoxpRhNUS1gh2Sefunn-b65jjKUCkh72tu5VACqPSkIgpil7DBnPhMOlzvLloOjcjVZ6FfwWjBa82YoOIg27M/s1600/weaver-cicotte_felsch.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggKDMk-SDQRTt_7GWLwvFgoDLi4V6ymlStzn3DTS_j1tFU4aWwjh_oGZzHoxpRhNUS1gh2Sefunn-b65jjKUCkh72tu5VACqPSkIgpil7DBnPhMOlzvLloOjcjVZ6FfwWjBa82YoOIg27M/s1600/weaver-cicotte_felsch.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Three buoyant defendants (Weaver, Cicotte, Felsch) accept congratulations from the public, and even from the jurors, when the verdict is announced. The image is poignant because their joy would be short-lived. The baseball commissioner would almost immediately ban them from the game.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="color: yellow; text-align: center;">
<b>Looking back at it all.</b></div>
<br />
<br />
A sad postscript to the banishment of the Black Sox is that the only place they could play the game they loved, at least at a professional level, was in a few obscure outlaw leagues outside of the purview of "organized baseball," a situation that often led them to dusty desert towns and small mining communities in the Southwest. The box score below is from the August 4, 1925 edition of the El Paso Herald, detailing a game between the Douglas Blues and the Fort Bayard Vets. Douglas, Arizona, on the Mexican border, is a tiny mountain town that was once threatened by an attack from Pancho Villa. Bayard, New Mexico is an even smaller town just across the border into New Mexico. Playing for the home team in Douglas that day was the august threesome of Bucky Weaver, Chick Gandil and Hal Chase. Chase, once a great major league star, was himself often implicated in gambling and fixing scandals, but was never convicted or formally banned. Chase was often considered the greatest defensive first baseman in history, but had to move over to second in this game to accommodate Chick Gandil at first. That move was especially tricky because Chase threw left-handed! Weaver, considered the AL's best defensive third baseman in his prime, was pressed into service as the team's shortstop. I assume this was based on the Little League theory that the best fielder always gets to play shortstop, and the mighty Douglas Blues were unlikely to come up with a better option than the great Buck Weaver.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjM9ozxi3JE0dqGV32no77nfoUb56iKfY0kqZNyQHiF5f5aNHsFybCRZyMFCb4K_etYXcbUGht_VE8M9eXrUE8VCnsLW4EufiAkjM0far8Bhz8YiHFqmxvv5kvjle0nnT1rFFD6t6G29l8/s1600/El_Paso_Herald_Tue__Aug_4__1925_.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjM9ozxi3JE0dqGV32no77nfoUb56iKfY0kqZNyQHiF5f5aNHsFybCRZyMFCb4K_etYXcbUGht_VE8M9eXrUE8VCnsLW4EufiAkjM0far8Bhz8YiHFqmxvv5kvjle0nnT1rFFD6t6G29l8/s1600/El_Paso_Herald_Tue__Aug_4__1925_.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
If you still have not reached your quota of Black Sox discussions, I recommend <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Gene_Carney-Black_Sox_Notes.zip">this zipped folder</a> of notes by the late Gene Carney, who was once the head of SABR's Black Sox committee, as well as that group's most prolific researcher and author. His blog, Notes from the Shadows of Cooperstown, was about baseball in general, but especially about the Black Sox, and his efforts culminated in a book called <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Burying-Black-Sox-Baseballs-Succeeded/dp/1597971081">Burying the Black Sox</a>, which is mostly about baseball's efforts to sweep this scandal under the rug. Some of his work has been nullified or rendered nugatory by later discoveries, but his columns are informative. Reading them makes you feel as if you are chatting with him in his den, and they are just plain fun to read. Also included in the package are indexes that allow you to find certain subjects faster.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">Wrapping it all up.</span></b><br />
<br /><br />
Given the massive body of work that has been done previously by various scholars at SABR and elsewhere, I don't have any desire to expand this series of articles any further unless something new turns up. There's only one more question that interests me, perhaps the most important one: "<u>Why</u> did they throw the 1919 World Series?"
<br /><br />
In the first wave of analysis, one that dominated the public perception for many years, the players were simply faithless and disloyal men who betrayed their teammates and were ungrateful to the game that kept them from a short, miserable, impoverished life in the fields or a mill. As the decade of the 1960s rolled in, and with it a wave of anti-authoritarianism, coupled with a reappraisal of the employer/employee dynamic, the general public started to be influenced by a line of thinking that had germinated from the defense strategy in the criminal trial - that the whole scandal was Comiskey's fault. The Old Roman had been treating his employees unfairly and cavalierly while amassing great wealth in the process of underpaying his players. Two great Chicago writers, Nelson Algren and James Farrell, laid the groundwork for that approach, and Eliot Asinof built a sturdy fort called Eight Men Out from that foundation, motivated in no small part by his own experiences being treated as virtual chattel in the minor leagues.
<br /><br />
I am convinced that neither extreme position is correct.
<br /><br />
It was not so complicated, after all. Gambling had started to become a fully legal enterprise in America in 1908, when pari-mutuel betting was first allowed in the Kentucky Derby. Several other states followed suit, and by 1917 gambling was big business and its practitioners were legion at the tracks. That new army of gamblers moved from the ponies to the ballparks, looking to augment their action. Baseball was vulnerable. Ballplayers and gamblers socialized easily and frequently in those days, and the game already had a history of gambling scandals, real and alleged, including rumors of a fix in the 1918 World Series, where action took place in the very same city where the Black Sox would throw the following year's Series.
<br /><br />
Meanwhile the Sox' first baseman, Chick Gandil, was near the end of the line as a major leaguer, and was looking to leave with a big payday. Gandil also knew that the team's star pitcher, Eddie Cicotte, who would undoubtedly get three starts in the World Series, was vulnerable to financial persuasion. Cicotte was in over his head with a heavily mortgaged farm and no working capital. Gandil was not a strictly ethical man to begin with, so his participation did not require much persuasion from his long-time buddy Sport Sullivan, a Boston gambler who was able to see the opportunity presented by the serendipitous coupling of Gandil's cupidity, Cicotte's desperation, and their presence in the World Series. All Gandil and Sullivan needed to pull off the fix was a big-time operator who could produce a tidy payday for Gandil plus the upfront cash demanded by Cicotte as a precondition for his commitment. The notorious gambler/tycoon/racketeer Arnold Rothstein soon saw the potential in the scheme and was willing to pony up the full amount needed to pull off a fixed Series.
<br /><br />
From there it was easy.
<br /><br />
Eddie Cicotte had some doubts and misgivings right up to the point where his share appeared in his room. After that he felt there could be no backing down, because guys like Rothstein were not the sorts one wanted to disappoint. They had unpleasant ways of dealing with welchers and double-crossers. Cicotte was hooked.
<br /><br />
When he was, the others fell like dominos.
<br /><br />
Why?
<br /><br />
Eliot Asinof actually got very close to the truth in his other Black Sox-related book, an obscure and almost unfindable work called "Bleeding Between the Lines," which came out 16 years after "Eight Men Out." In it he recalled his encounter with an elderly, dying Happy Felsch, and their long conversation over a fifth of Chivas Regal. At this point, I'm just going to let "Hap" take over the narrative (p.114):
<br /><br />
"It was a crazy time. I don't know how it happened, but it did all right. I've thought about it plenty over the years and I don't know. Maybe it was one of those God-awful things that just happen to you. You don't know what you're doing, then one day you wake up and it's there, real as life. I guess that comes from being dumb. God damn, I was dumb, all right. Old Gandil was smart and the rest of us was dumb. We started out gabbing about all the big money we would take, like a bunch of kids pretending to be big shots, you know. It just seemed like a bunch of talk. I never really believed it would happen. I don't think any of us even wanted it to happen, 'cept Gandil. But it happened, all right. Gandil gave Cicotte ten grand the night before the opener, and the next thing we knew, we were all tied up in it."
<br /><br />
The conditions formed a perfect storm, one man "out" chose to exploit it, and the other seven were swept "out" to sea by its tidal surges.
<br /><br />
It was one of those God-awful things that just happens. That's all there was to it.
</div>
<br /><br />
<br /><br />Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-33603429372686481762016-08-09T16:46:00.002-07:002020-10-03T16:41:57.176-07:00The day Bob Gibson's stardom began (in my home town!)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Not many years ago I accidentally stumbled into some 1958 pictures of Red Wing Stadium in Rochester, New York. They had nostalgic value for me because that stadium was within walking distance of my home, and was the first place I ever saw a professional ball game. The stadium in the photos looked exactly like the stadium in my memory. That was the first year I ever followed a baseball season, after the 1957 World Series had lassoed me into the ranks of fandom.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgomKjr7aDVRP_XxbxxhRSDFHPRCCzudODA-UF-OfYm3mnNcoGADf8WgRqO3In6xcLnl7RrOlLFMyHygcpLYpdMvhGfshxdo_wgtyhZiWTaNmFzidxjlmcDnJiiAvCP_vvzjlkeWOkyG0yd/s1600/58roc_fieldprep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgomKjr7aDVRP_XxbxxhRSDFHPRCCzudODA-UF-OfYm3mnNcoGADf8WgRqO3In6xcLnl7RrOlLFMyHygcpLYpdMvhGfshxdo_wgtyhZiWTaNmFzidxjlmcDnJiiAvCP_vvzjlkeWOkyG0yd/s1600/58roc_fieldprep.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
The stadium during pre-game prep.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihDI1Cc07j1nPhCvdFiyahGxR3mDUy8Hq8fIDAvBOFLmpoOWHSPPiWbPtW1r5kpJZeJsVoLta-97zw1XqFjcHty0frqVWXCcKT7tYDrnc3XEbHDySQTW03rTUEqrM0O7oddgfRaocuoQ-x/s1600/aerial_circa+1955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihDI1Cc07j1nPhCvdFiyahGxR3mDUy8Hq8fIDAvBOFLmpoOWHSPPiWbPtW1r5kpJZeJsVoLta-97zw1XqFjcHty0frqVWXCcKT7tYDrnc3XEbHDySQTW03rTUEqrM0O7oddgfRaocuoQ-x/s1600/aerial_circa+1955.jpg" /></a></div>
An aerial view from the same era. The right field bleachers are temporary (overflow crowd).<br />
<br />
<br />
As I looked at the color pictures above and below for a third or fourth time this year, I started wondering if I could find out precisely when the pictures were taken. Given the clues from the scoreboard and a bit of time travel through the Rochester newspapers, it turned out to be possible to pinpoint the game, and wonder of wonders, it turned out to be a significant game, perhaps not in the cosmic sense, but in the career of a future baseball superstar, Bob Gibson.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPIcJv6fRaumVrvIJPPV4fdcYnD7hvkdZGLKAUjoP4OUQkkV2qJD4AyCndTzkwQaEw3DgWl9OJgBBppXiwzTwAvdT0C41oVWVSjr6UDHz3nJ4zJ9azt1OfYmBEbNF6dRDaV8G2msfy68zi/s1600/58roc_anthem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPIcJv6fRaumVrvIJPPV4fdcYnD7hvkdZGLKAUjoP4OUQkkV2qJD4AyCndTzkwQaEw3DgWl9OJgBBppXiwzTwAvdT0C41oVWVSjr6UDHz3nJ4zJ9azt1OfYmBEbNF6dRDaV8G2msfy68zi/s1600/58roc_anthem.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
On the field for the national anthem that day (pictured above) for the home-town Wings were:
<br />
<ul>
<li>At first base, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/steveed01.shtml">Ed Stevens</a>. You may never have heard of him, but he played in 2240 games in organized ball, including almost 400 in the majors. He became semi-famous by being <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/471ee78c">the guy sent down to Montreal so Jackie Robinson could play first base</a> for the Brooklyn Dodgers. He was pictured on a Bowman card in their 1949 set.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDE-0F8-SsCKdPRaiGBEcG4Sphoo5C5-_5AFwoZV76HA7FIoV0sO_n2WvuVtgVqZ5gGD3LR3PtxFXB34RmvQobvf7GgvRAX031HNcfHVDTuV2z3gwIsyHtGC-s45ZwUoO0dQC6HQD6YMD/s1600/1490035_lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDE-0F8-SsCKdPRaiGBEcG4Sphoo5C5-_5AFwoZV76HA7FIoV0sO_n2WvuVtgVqZ5gGD3LR3PtxFXB34RmvQobvf7GgvRAX031HNcfHVDTuV2z3gwIsyHtGC-s45ZwUoO0dQC6HQD6YMD/s1600/1490035_lg.jpg" /></a></div>
</li>
<li>Second base: <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/o/o'brijo03.shtml">Johnny O'Brien</a>. He and his twin brother <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/o/o'bried01.shtml">Eddie</a> sometimes formed the double play combination for the Pirates in the mid-fifties. They received a joint baseball card in 1954.<br />
<br />
<center>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbmpurw1mC3R5eBBFwrR8hLxV7iVktcIKDp_-DoOuswWX-B2jg-QnnhtCsC_OjVIx7I_NcRgF2A7T0IWqd2Vl-uPrv41H91AQdhIModzK9Yu3R8oDCHFvqY4_CoBhi2uCdjCDvZn9cqJv/s1600/67537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbmpurw1mC3R5eBBFwrR8hLxV7iVktcIKDp_-DoOuswWX-B2jg-QnnhtCsC_OjVIx7I_NcRgF2A7T0IWqd2Vl-uPrv41H91AQdhIModzK9Yu3R8oDCHFvqY4_CoBhi2uCdjCDvZn9cqJv/s1600/67537.jpg" /></a></div>
</center>
</li>
<li>The Shortstop was <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/register/player.cgi?id=smalle002roy">Roy Smalley</a>, who played eleven seasons in the majors and another 500+ games in the minors. Although usually a weak hitter, he had one season with the Cubs when he poled 21 homers with 85 RBI. His son, another shortstop named <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/smallro02.shtml">Roy Smalley</a>, also had a lengthy career in pro ball. He played 13 years in the majors and topped his dad's best season in 1979 when he made the all-star team by contributing 24 homers and 95 RBI to the Twins' season.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitLkTYuLHBjk32AKQY81FKnKKu0sP6sT9q7hxid7a2ndVcM7VqaRcPlqvbSWWcJMRXwSZmz4KZO5hfpdBJC1QXxxiV2pU1eY9MAaZ_IJlKI0Ocw0RDViqGWhphpCab8KXDUCDNA4JrIKKN/s1600/105-486Fr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitLkTYuLHBjk32AKQY81FKnKKu0sP6sT9q7hxid7a2ndVcM7VqaRcPlqvbSWWcJMRXwSZmz4KZO5hfpdBJC1QXxxiV2pU1eY9MAaZ_IJlKI0Ocw0RDViqGWhphpCab8KXDUCDNA4JrIKKN/s1600/105-486Fr.jpg" /></a></div>
</li>
<li>Pencilled in at third that day in place of Loren Babe was <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/v/verdifr01.shtml">Frank Verdi</a>, the man who would later be most famous because he was <a href="https://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=1946&dat=19590727&id=_78tAAAAIBAJ&sjid=vpwFAAAAIBAJ&pg=7314,4830677">clipped by gunfire in a game in Havana</a>. He played about 2000 games in the minors over a span of eighteen years, then managed in the minors for more than two additional decades. His total career in minor league baseball spanned the period from 1953 to 1995, but Frank had only a Moonlight Graham career in the majors: <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/BOS/BOS195305100.shtml">one inning played</a> in the field in 1953, no at bats. He came in as the Yankees' shortstop on a double-switch, played one inning in the field without touching the ball, then was lifted for a pinch-hitter when he was due to bat. At least Manager Frank could truthfully tell his hopeful minor league charges that he once played shortstop for the Yankees. (And it was a world champion Yankee team that featured Mickey and Yogi on the field and The Ol' Perfessor pulling the strings.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ZKnSjgNH98thRewYugjqEMOgGo6QPa0w-4teGZcMcys0J6LOh11ynt3XT4-8Od_0J6Akk2QTmzvn6h5oAjOfdBj99yz0iRSL7UNa9ARGGu8G8cHgkPRcWv4PJv1ll93ZcGImRpvFBchN/s1600/71886-5230829Fr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ZKnSjgNH98thRewYugjqEMOgGo6QPa0w-4teGZcMcys0J6LOh11ynt3XT4-8Od_0J6Akk2QTmzvn6h5oAjOfdBj99yz0iRSL7UNa9ARGGu8G8cHgkPRcWv4PJv1ll93ZcGImRpvFBchN/s1600/71886-5230829Fr.jpg" /></a></div>
</li>
<li>The centerfielder in the picture is <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/g/greenle01.shtml">Lenny Green</a>. Although Green's contract belonged to the Orioles and Rochester was a Cardinals farm team, Green was on loan to get some seasoning and playing time. He would later spend a decade in the major leagues, playing for various American League teams as a good-field-average-hit centerfielder. He seldom had enough at bats to qualify for the batting title, but he could handle a starting job when called upon. In his best season he had 33 doubles, 14 homers, 88 walks, 97 runs scored, and a solid .367 OBP.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvmlJNexaXZQCHHop-5UCb6qBXk42MT9ws9X0VZa7ZtkOLFRxgU-ngQsUz8LOPKt5o8ZbyMxII6Mh6NfhJFdgQpfN1_Lu7AasRpaadIvUZ85uMsXI2F_PBLSSQA5Zf01_uomSlgph5I2u/s1600/Lenny+Green.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvmlJNexaXZQCHHop-5UCb6qBXk42MT9ws9X0VZa7ZtkOLFRxgU-ngQsUz8LOPKt5o8ZbyMxII6Mh6NfhJFdgQpfN1_Lu7AasRpaadIvUZ85uMsXI2F_PBLSSQA5Zf01_uomSlgph5I2u/s1600/Lenny+Green.jpg" /></a></div>
</li>
<li>In left field was <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/cf978716">Gene Oliver</a>, who would later have <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/o/olivege01.shtml">a long major league career</a> as a power-hitting catcher. He was a good player, but was not a good left fielder, a fact which will later prove significant in this story.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw_MKWL7WveteyV-JJ9KG-lz_AFPsA6VJtrMwCEdLhG093vcsvbZC0MuL3s2Vu9ubS2L32PH96oWHKolq04VZsMR1KGb12oRq42XdvSK7w6em8WNDdI4sNk93gZbtffbdVJ8o8bo5kz8F_/s1600/OliverGene.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw_MKWL7WveteyV-JJ9KG-lz_AFPsA6VJtrMwCEdLhG093vcsvbZC0MuL3s2Vu9ubS2L32PH96oWHKolq04VZsMR1KGb12oRq42XdvSK7w6em8WNDdI4sNk93gZbtffbdVJ8o8bo5kz8F_/s1600/OliverGene.jpg" /></a></div>
</li>
</ul>
I can't identify the first base coach, #23 in the picture. I did manage to find a Red Wing Scorecard from another part of that season (below), but he is not listed among the coaches. Note that the players named on the scorecard and the players in the picture do not correspond one-to-one. Minor league rosters are very fluid, so the Rochester uniform was worn by some <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/register/team.cgi?id=6eec365f">51 different players</a> that year, plus the manager and an assortment of coaches.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujzQm8HUXwyVXI3tZq3W0KsJIuUDBdbQeaZMIWI10ln217rY9pRD6HhXKk_tIAfF8NX6o3OD8LQCFK3RoWwDCCuJVJilYho62IKIWHGkveFmZW03yYx8tH8V0OqeD-mXL0piiVlcw_3cp/s1600/1958_wings-numbers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujzQm8HUXwyVXI3tZq3W0KsJIuUDBdbQeaZMIWI10ln217rY9pRD6HhXKk_tIAfF8NX6o3OD8LQCFK3RoWwDCCuJVJilYho62IKIWHGkveFmZW03yYx8tH8V0OqeD-mXL0piiVlcw_3cp/s1600/1958_wings-numbers.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The players not pictured are the catcher and right fielder.
<br />
<br />
The catcher that day was <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/watline01.shtml">Neal Watlington</a>, who was Gene Oliver's back-up. His major league career consisted of 44 at bats in 1953 with a .159 batting average, no power and few walks, but his minor league career had started back before WW2, and he was still at it in 1958 after serving in a World War and playing more than 1000 baseball games. His only appearance on a baseball card (below) came in the obscure 1952 Parkhurst set of the minor league Ottawa Athletics. 1958 would be his last year and it was not a successful one. The game in today's microscope was one of his few appearances in a season when he batted a weak .169 in 77 at bats. As <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rocky_Bridges">baseball wag Rocky Bridges</a> might have noted, Neal was in the twilight of a mediocre career.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEAhWTRBQvwcG5N5MzZRaId-JvWcRQ6KP5aQnj3T5C__7JBt2BzSnu8_s0XwkuV1sK7BTbLIm0sWNiF2iL3GaEgPy_NRou7IyPQHLYrU0HQdh8VP4G4WpynhyphenhyphenO0SE6657wR5wAYZejXwa/s1600/watlington.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEAhWTRBQvwcG5N5MzZRaId-JvWcRQ6KP5aQnj3T5C__7JBt2BzSnu8_s0XwkuV1sK7BTbLIm0sWNiF2iL3GaEgPy_NRou7IyPQHLYrU0HQdh8VP4G4WpynhyphenhyphenO0SE6657wR5wAYZejXwa/s1600/watlington.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The right fielder was Canadian <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/b/burgeto01.shtml">Tom Burgess</a>, one of the truly reliable players in the International League of the fifties. You could just about pencil him in at the start of the year to hit .280 with 20 homers, as he did for a half-dozen seasons in Rochester and a few more here and there for other AAA teams. He had pretty much that exact same AAA season every year from 1955 to 1961. That's a level better than 99.99% of male human beings are able to achieve, but is not quite enough to earn a spot on a major league roster. He got 21 at bats for the 1954 Cardinals, failed to impress, and then toiled away in the minors until the major league expansion in 1961-62. He was a 34-year-old rookie by the time he got a shot with the 1962 Angels, and he never got any traction going, although he did post a respectable .354 on-base percentage. The Angels cut him after that season, whereupon he picked up 28 more at bats in the minors, then retired. Like Frank Verdi, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/register/player.cgi?id=burges003tho">he was a minor league manager</a> for about two decades (1969-1987), some of that in AAA, but never got the call to the Big Show. He is in the Canadian Baseball Hall of Fame.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjr_7R_6V4mNksPmspsXheoeVWoh8KyMjzfYB5rLdI3OrQdx5GRLBx-CoPyfLc4qf6rQSIdwJLpERUWBie-InvWSxwVqc0d7hAb0DFQaaGo3xTaaEUWR4FA6Ki_6vwIw4DeunG7qN8fYm/s1600/76339-5505861Fr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjr_7R_6V4mNksPmspsXheoeVWoh8KyMjzfYB5rLdI3OrQdx5GRLBx-CoPyfLc4qf6rQSIdwJLpERUWBie-InvWSxwVqc0d7hAb0DFQaaGo3xTaaEUWR4FA6Ki_6vwIw4DeunG7qN8fYm/s1600/76339-5505861Fr.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
With all the experience and knowledge on that team, you might think they were an International League powerhouse, but the truth is that they were about a .500 team, a typical AAA squad of the era, consisting of players who had been solid major leaguers, but were past their prime and unwilling to give up baseball, mixed in with guys with major league potential who had not yet reached it, some other guys like Verdi and Watlington who never got more than a cup of coffee in the bigs, and even a few guys (eleven of the 51 who played at one time or another on that 1958 squad) who would never make it into the majors at all.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYKPqLVo-0YwWLKGO1SOCP-t58ZuO7HTshfDY7FW3rKmbaLccvg59zjZOjw1GEXuhZDCZqw_Zfat-sgdxxFtxpjBzbHDH1NYjwoAYdS04ZVw38PD214c4rnEE_IfbATqzkx_Y1j0vUjqc/s1600/1958_wings2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYKPqLVo-0YwWLKGO1SOCP-t58ZuO7HTshfDY7FW3rKmbaLccvg59zjZOjw1GEXuhZDCZqw_Zfat-sgdxxFtxpjBzbHDH1NYjwoAYdS04ZVw38PD214c4rnEE_IfbATqzkx_Y1j0vUjqc/s1600/1958_wings2.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The starter that day, August 3rd, was not Gibson but <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/l/lovenly01.shtml">Lynn Lovenguth</a>, a guy who genuinely seemed to have major league talent, but had a minor league temperament. He was the International League's perennial problem child who would end up spending twelve years in triple-A ball with eight different teams. 1958 was the ninth such year, by which time Lovenguth was 35 years old and bitter that he had never gotten more than a quick look in the bigs. He would be 34 years old before he got a single major league start. His anger may have been well founded, because he had owned the International League in 1955 and 1956, finishing the latter year with a 24-12 record, and leading the Toronto Maple Leafs to the IL pennant. (He's pictured below during that triumphant season). That marvelous season earned him nothing more than nine innings of major league ball in 1957 before he found himself relegated to Rochester, wearing the fourth of the five different International League jerseys he would sport during his career. He would be in Rochester again in 1958, where today's story takes place.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiec6LfBmedKF1jy2CpZRFPmwyJjZgTTx6qGI0jyHDFm_hvOjZ5_gPuudMmxPeG-sejjmYLiBDpLXyUSJtcEyItLNZ0DQ2H0v_k5QVt-9SSxKg_g2tF3eM6KDw1X2mhZtquJkb-Sf-fAoP1/s1600/7647137240_e975b7de0c_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiec6LfBmedKF1jy2CpZRFPmwyJjZgTTx6qGI0jyHDFm_hvOjZ5_gPuudMmxPeG-sejjmYLiBDpLXyUSJtcEyItLNZ0DQ2H0v_k5QVt-9SSxKg_g2tF3eM6KDw1X2mhZtquJkb-Sf-fAoP1/s1600/7647137240_e975b7de0c_o.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpA2i3ZbRLW29JeX6-cGQRffNIVZCwJ8IHIA2Ta1Hmhj5T39JmiWGutCPhOcKo_GWiMdYGrSaD6E9YXA6l9y2poDIRIby5JMCMu43xQUoMUuvJhUrQ71L5GEcPZsFknj2FMP89yPYM8gx/s1600/Democrat_and_Chronicle_Sun__Aug_3__1958_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpA2i3ZbRLW29JeX6-cGQRffNIVZCwJ8IHIA2Ta1Hmhj5T39JmiWGutCPhOcKo_GWiMdYGrSaD6E9YXA6l9y2poDIRIby5JMCMu43xQUoMUuvJhUrQ71L5GEcPZsFknj2FMP89yPYM8gx/s200/Democrat_and_Chronicle_Sun__Aug_3__1958_.jpg" width="45" /></a></div>
After the first inning of that particular game, Lovenguth was complaining about and arguing with his teammates because they had failed him defensively. Manager Cot Deal had been tinkering with the line-up because his team was scoring fewer than four runs per game. His best hitter was his young catcher Gene Oliver, a future major league regular then hitting .292 according to that day's paper (left), who was scheduled for a day off from his duties behind the plate. Deal needed Oliver's bat in the line-up, so he stationed him in left field where the displaced catcher promptly made an inappropriate throw in the first inning. When Frank Verdi contributed an error of his own in that same inning, Lovenguth blew his stack. The pitcher was correct to believe that he had received poor defensive support, but carping about it in the dugout has always been and will always be a no-no, so manager Cot Deal told his malcontent to shut up or get fined and go home early. The prickly Lovenguth chose to go home.<br />
<br />
<br />
This, of course, left the manager with no pitcher, and nobody warming up. Enter the future superstar <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/g/gibsobo01.shtml">Bob Gibson</a>, then commonly called "Hoot" (after the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hoot_Gibson">famous Western star</a>), who at that point was still sweating from his pre-game running drills.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYw1FYVFPBNV8Kd9MrVOZ3MxFnfh_47Y8deXSVpZKO-GtKkddfqcax6LdvTMoFwVe51GdFWhM57prmII63l7TlurARTmrBF073RMybu4EH6NnZLpza_Q_kRkSZLCUcvgp_n9Gz_xQg4olB/s1600/gibson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYw1FYVFPBNV8Kd9MrVOZ3MxFnfh_47Y8deXSVpZKO-GtKkddfqcax6LdvTMoFwVe51GdFWhM57prmII63l7TlurARTmrBF073RMybu4EH6NnZLpza_Q_kRkSZLCUcvgp_n9Gz_xQg4olB/s1600/gibson.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgubzc-zUdjvWX-k9X3RRu4jl-GJjXqjtywUyGWSaA_STtGlNdhvGUuExPy5Czr5GsS-61rbP7JhsjpbgMEbF-6oYDsgCIbDkFwUgNQaGtZdtQUPkHB8UjBs78njllsybHwSZN6iQE-9lvS/s1600/Democrat_and_Chronicle_Mon__Aug_4__1958_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgubzc-zUdjvWX-k9X3RRu4jl-GJjXqjtywUyGWSaA_STtGlNdhvGUuExPy5Czr5GsS-61rbP7JhsjpbgMEbF-6oYDsgCIbDkFwUgNQaGtZdtQUPkHB8UjBs78njllsybHwSZN6iQE-9lvS/s200/Democrat_and_Chronicle_Mon__Aug_4__1958_.jpg" width="135" /></a></div>
Before that Sunday afternoon game, Gibson had been muddling through his season in Rochester with an undistinguished 0-3 record. After four unsuccessful starts, he had been demoted to the dreaded long-relief job, but that turned out to be just the role which allowed him to make his first mark in AAA ball on that August afternoon. He took the ball in the top of the second and went the rest of the way, winning the game by allowing no runs on only two or three hits (the box score to the right says two, but the accompanying article says three). The Rochester Democrat and Chronicle headed the box score with the phrase "Hurrah for Hoot."
<br />
<br />
To make the day even sweeter, Gibson did not just best any ordinary minor league pitcher. On the mound that day for the opposing Miami Marlins was a pitcher who some say is the best of all time - the legendary <a href="http://www.satchelpaige.com/">Satchel Paige</a>!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgneCwsDUbgn6zEmB74phUVOAHItGcInVhbc5-Pr8gif4i9ABnSHvfKLvvTBQgdPZkPCdf5ROKTTTnfAS81brVxqUWHTnQdyTqGKiejbCcy4V9a5zqGb2JbTY6YesyXODgcSZOLCWBvwbz1/s1600/Paige+Satchel+Plaque_NBL.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgneCwsDUbgn6zEmB74phUVOAHItGcInVhbc5-Pr8gif4i9ABnSHvfKLvvTBQgdPZkPCdf5ROKTTTnfAS81brVxqUWHTnQdyTqGKiejbCcy4V9a5zqGb2JbTY6YesyXODgcSZOLCWBvwbz1/s1600/Paige+Satchel+Plaque_NBL.png" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
By throwing shut-out ball and beating Satchel Paige, Bob Gibson had most definitely arrived.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
----------------------<br />
<br />
After-thoughts<br />
<br />
Red Wing stadium looked about the same in the late fifties and early sixties as it had when it was first constructed in 1929, and nearly identical to its appearance in the 1930s, when a bullpen was created behind the left field fence. That fence had no ads, but was a wire fence which permitted everyone in the park to see through it. My dad and I saw essentially the same park when we were nine-year-old boys, 28 years apart. The only substantial change from the thirties to the fifties involved the fence separating the field from the bullpen, which originally had a jog in it, to be replaced by a completely straight line in the 1950s. <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/dimension_changes2.pdf">This .pdf file</a> details the changes in the dimensions and angles, and the aerial photograph below shows the fence as it was before the jog was straightened. (Compare that to the aerial photograph in the main body of the story above, which shows the straightened version.)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqxu03n7W8Lh0adg6cVoapLSAonpyHH9WkkRPzn0UzF696G96eEXXlT5iq_d6ljVjgZnto34aeWHNW3-EyJhe0MLjTj17WB3e8abR4S-5eGkkGeYewhpzAICf5cXLBSKcLS_GUesQmrZU/s1600/red-wings-stadium-1930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqxu03n7W8Lh0adg6cVoapLSAonpyHH9WkkRPzn0UzF696G96eEXXlT5iq_d6ljVjgZnto34aeWHNW3-EyJhe0MLjTj17WB3e8abR4S-5eGkkGeYewhpzAICf5cXLBSKcLS_GUesQmrZU/s1600/red-wings-stadium-1930.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The economics of minor league baseball being what they are, the beloved see-through fence, which allowed generations of fans to watch majestic homers bouncing on the grass or rattling around the bleachers, was eventually plastered over with ads, and then topped with two additional levels of garish ads (see below). The iconic scoreboard, manned by actual humans carrying giant numbers into inning slots, was also the victim of budget cuts. While my father and I could view the same park when we were the same age, my sons and I could not. As Deep Throat sagely advised, the management followed the money. They had no choice. That is the reality we live in now, which is no longer the world we once knew.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dN5gAZBlYOwgLpd2CAEXX4YnhIMZXVCkYh9MsgJQnLlSoL3CU5BQOb-bNAHLIY8yYaH9xW2BaZ2FeasicttbEBXJ98IoG84D1Z1c5Nt2w2w2wvLGmtthIQoK3LeHuST4S-Shvj9bf2Xz/s1600/86_leftfield.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dN5gAZBlYOwgLpd2CAEXX4YnhIMZXVCkYh9MsgJQnLlSoL3CU5BQOb-bNAHLIY8yYaH9xW2BaZ2FeasicttbEBXJ98IoG84D1Z1c5Nt2w2w2wvLGmtthIQoK3LeHuST4S-Shvj9bf2Xz/s1600/86_leftfield.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-12781806411823219662016-05-16T21:08:00.005-07:002022-07-27T21:19:43.894-07:00The Black Sox, Part IV: Follow the Money<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0F231iYv1q33k9GWHaN4ITPsUhFPhJNZ-2MLRhoP-kPZ5Fxi6UCuv3oIthwqi5i1_8BypighVNfyJgUXx4TiBbZ7OHMGeCNOLsmIBfNNmjUw6YJMrQDcD1G5Bq0QL9WEygxyTNVg9bhoQ/s1600/1919-black-soxc-jpg-20140508.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0F231iYv1q33k9GWHaN4ITPsUhFPhJNZ-2MLRhoP-kPZ5Fxi6UCuv3oIthwqi5i1_8BypighVNfyJgUXx4TiBbZ7OHMGeCNOLsmIBfNNmjUw6YJMrQDcD1G5Bq0QL9WEygxyTNVg9bhoQ/s1600/1919-black-soxc-jpg-20140508.jpg" width="700" /></a>
<br />
<br />
Unless you are an expert in baseball history, you probably owe all of your knowledge about the Black Sox scandal to a book called, "Eight Men Out," or perhaps to the eponymous movie featuring John Cusack (as Buck Weaver), Charlie Sheen (Happy Felsch), David Strathairn (Eddie Cicotte), Michael Rooker (Chick Gandil), Christopher Lloyd (Sleepy Bill Burns), Michael Lerner (Arnold Rothstein), Kevin Tighe (Sport Sullivan) and other less familiar names.<br />
<br />
If so, that is regrettable, because almost everything you think you know is wrong.<br />
<br />
"Eight Men Out" (hereinafter called 8MO) has often been described as journalism, and has usually been considered a work of non-fiction. It is neither. It would be correctly defined as an historical novel, because it has the following characteristics in common with that genre:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>8MO interweaves genuine historical figures with fictional characters. Author Eliot Asinof has admitted that he fabricated a character called Harry F., a hit man who was hired to threaten pitcher Lefty Williams when the Sox seemed on the verge of tying the series at four games apiece. Asinof claimed that he created this character to see which authors were stealing his account without attribution. "Harry" is not only fictional, but is not based on any historical character, and his actions are not based on based on any historical circumstances. In fact, Lefty Williams testified that he told Joe Jackson on the way to the ballpark that day, "<a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=qLXytSDc5YIC&lpg=PA59&ots=UfW0-KOCJ2&dq=I%20am%20going%20to%20pitch%20to%20win%20this%20game%20if%20I%20can%20possibly%20win%20it.&pg=PA59#v=onepage&q=I%20am%20going%20to%20pitch%20to%20win%20this%20game%20if%20I%20can%20possibly%20win%20it.&f=false">I am going to pitch to win this game if I can possibly win it.</a>"<br /><br />
Asinof never revealed the identity of a second fictional character, but there are two good possibilities: (1) There is a minor character named Alfred Bauer (p. 59), allegedly the head usher in the Cincinnati ballpark, who does not seem to have any basis in reality. Unlike the character Harry F., whose identity and exploits have been repeated by many later authors who assumed Asinof's account to be factual, the Bauer character does not seem to have been considered significant enough to enter the Black Sox canon. (2) A character named Pete Manlis (p. 100), allegedly a friend of Arnold Rothstein, had a brief chat with Sport Sullivan in 8MO. Unlike Bauer, this character's participation was repeated in at least one other source (David Pietrusza's biography of Rothstein). Given the similarity of the Peitrusza and Asinof accounts, it is very possible that Peitrusza based his account on the assumption that Asinof's citation was based on reality. Curiously, a character named "Lips" Manlis was a notorious fictional gambler who gave Dick Tracy a hard time in the comic books of the 30s. Could this have inspired Asinof?</li>
<br />
<li>8MO uses imagined interior monologues and combines historically established lines with fabricated dialogue.</li>
<br />
<li>8MO's central value is a good story with clear themes, not a meticulous recounting of facts. There are no reference notes, foot-, end- or other.</li>
<br />
<li>8MO does not consider possible alternatives to its basic narrative, as any good historian or journalist would do. It establishes a consistent point of view and allows for only a single interpretation of the conflicting and complicated evidence in the Black Sox case.</li>
</ul>
<br />
As a historical novel, 8MO is brilliant. It tells a cohesive, tidy story with a beginning, middle and end, filled with clearly defined characters and motivations. The tale skillfully weaves humor, drama and poignancy. The reader is led into an underlying sympathy for the underdogs (Jackson and Weaver, and to some extent Cicotte, Felsch and Williams) whose lives and livelihoods were trampled under the jackboots of larger-than-life Bond villains in Comiskey, Rothstein and Gandil. <br />
<br />
But it's important to establish and understand that it is only a historical novel. Among the important figures in the scandal, Asinof was able to talk only to one gambler, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Bleeding_Between_the_Lines_Attell_Interview.jpg">Abe Attell</a>, and one ballplayer, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Bleeding_Between_the_Lines_Felsch_Interview.jpg">Happy Felsch</a>. (Those links lead to Asinof's summaries of the interviews in another book, "Bleeding Between the Lines.")<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ2KVdIlqQYPyQ7x2tdLG62EXGDxthq-krKonE37y-FIwrmhbHxjCItgvDI3mw1GyoCzFq6H-Sce-Uz5O-0Sit6E8yUXBpigJD4DykIryiN56lCZsZKId7Oj1pO0l2eMST_KAs4KpYjg0A/s1600/1917_Happy_Felsch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ2KVdIlqQYPyQ7x2tdLG62EXGDxthq-krKonE37y-FIwrmhbHxjCItgvDI3mw1GyoCzFq6H-Sce-Uz5O-0Sit6E8yUXBpigJD4DykIryiN56lCZsZKId7Oj1pO0l2eMST_KAs4KpYjg0A/s200/1917_Happy_Felsch.jpg" /></a></div>
Among the ballplayers, Gandil, Risberg and Cicotte refused to talk to Asinof, and the other Black Sox had passed away before Asinof could reach them. Handsome, broad-shouldered Happy Felsch (left) seemed completely ingenuous, a co-operative and truthful contributor, but he had been just an overgrown kid who went along for the ride, not a conniving insider, so he knew almost nothing about how the scheme first developed. Asinof had to recreate the genesis of the plot using only court testimony as his source material, and he was unable to find the appropriate transcripts, so he had to rely on newspaper accounts which were not completely reliable, especially in summarizing secret grand jury testimony.<br />
<br clear="all" />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZ6PuLTNezjFY3cqWJIRCaEV7Pf_uqVNsdLK6Cajrh-dohUuVL08ncmYi9krM23MOtjkgOCCFtdbWDPKciMgWPibt-771YNCH0vn6Yy4nBldI2cmv1w6dZs8H1-Wtvyg_zjX75el51iPF/s1600/1280px-Abe_Attell_LOC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZ6PuLTNezjFY3cqWJIRCaEV7Pf_uqVNsdLK6Cajrh-dohUuVL08ncmYi9krM23MOtjkgOCCFtdbWDPKciMgWPibt-771YNCH0vn6Yy4nBldI2cmv1w6dZs8H1-Wtvyg_zjX75el51iPF/s200/1280px-Abe_Attell_LOC.jpg" /></a></div>
As for Attell (right), he had been a great prizefighter, but was not a man of dependable character. He told so many different stories through the years that all of his accounts must be called into question. More important still, Attell only knew of his portion of the scheme, which was basically based on a bluff, and which contributed only $10,000 to the players' pay-offs.<br />
<br />
Most of the money that changed hands in the scandal went from the gambler Sport Sullivan to the first baseman Chick Gandil for redistribution. Gandil refused to talk to Asinof. Sullivan had been dead more than a decade when Asinof's research began. The other important gamblers, Rothstein, Burns and Evans, were also long dead by 1960, so Asinof had to fill in dozens of details from newspaper accounts and his own imagination.<br />
<br />
There may have been many possible reasons for Asinof's factual errors, and it is not worthwhile to speculate about them, at least not in this context. It is more constructive simply to point them out and, to the limited extent possible, to correct them.<br />
<br />
According to 8MO, the players were supposed to get $180,000: one hundred thousand from Attell and another eighty thousand from Sport Sullivan; but they ultimately received only eighty thousand from both sources (ten thousand from Attell, seventy thousand from Sullivan). The final individual tally, per Asinof: Gandil $35,000, Risberg $15,000, Cicotte $10,000, McMullin, Felsch, Williams and Jackson $5,000 each. The details of Asinof's accounting are detailed below, followed by comments in italics:<br />
<ul>
<li>8MO: The first ten thousand came from Sport Sullivan and ultimately went to Eddie Cicotte before the Series began, because he had insisted on that amount in advance.<br /><br /><i>This payment has never been disputed, although nobody has established who handled the money before it appeared in Cicotte's room. It is assumed that the play should be scored Sullivan-to-Gandil-to-Cicotte, since Sullivan had to be the source of the money, and Gandil was not only the banker for the corrupted players, but also Sullivan's long-time pal.</i></li>
<br /><br />
<li>8MO: The next ten thousand came from Abe Attell after game two. The two go-betweens, Burns and Maharg, called on a suite occupied by Attell and several gamblers. There they saw an unimaginable amount of money throughout the room. Attell was supposed to hand over $40,000 to Burns at this time, but could only be persuaded to part with ten thousand, which was handed by Burns to Chick Gandil, who is presumed to have kept the money.<br /><br /><i>
According to the testimony of Bill Burns in the players' back-pay suits, Burns did dutifully pass the money on to the Black Sox players, but not just to Gandil. Seven of the alleged conspirators were in the room at the time, all except Joe Jackson. Risberg and McMullin counted it, then Gandil recounted it. It is not known how the money was distributed, but the presence of so many conspirators in the room makes it unlikely (but not impossible) that Gandil was able to retain all of it.</i></li>
<br /><br />
<li>8MO: The next twenty thousand came from Sullivan to Gandil during the Chicago homestand, either after game four or game five. It was split into four equal parts for Jackson, Williams, Felsch and Risberg. Williams was handed ten thousand, and gave half to Jackson, his roommate.</li>
<br /><i>
That account does reconcile with the grand jury testimony given by Jackson and Williams, as well as <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/felsch_interview.jpg">the newspaper interview given by Felsch</a>. Those admissions account for $15,000. As for the remaining five thousand, it is pure speculation that it existed at all, or that it went to Risberg, although neither is an illogical assumption, especially given Risberg's insider status.</i></ul>
<ul><br /><br />
<li>8MO: The final $40,000 was presented by Sullivan and Evans to Gandil, McMullin and Risberg at the conclusion of the Series. Risberg got $10,000, McMullin $5,000, Gandil $25,000.<br /><br /><i>
This payment seems to be a fictional embellishment by Asinof. There is no evidence to support it.</i></li>
</ul>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Here is Asinof's delineation of that final $40,000 payment (8MO, p. 125):</div>
<blockquote>
"He (Sport Sullivan) met with Brown (Nat Evans) in the lobby of the Congress Hotel. Together they removed the $40,000 Evans had placed in the safe before the Series. Sullivan, as planned, would deliver the sum to Gandil at the Warner Hotel.<br />
<br />
When Sullivan arrived at Gandil's room, Risberg and McMullin were waiting for him. Gandil had been right to suspect that the Swede was not going to settle for that earlier payment of $5,000. It could be said that Risberg had good reason: he had made a major contribution to the White Sox defeat. He had barely hit his weight (170) and was no great shakes in the field. He smiled as he saw the forty fresh $1,000 bills that Sullivan withdrew from his coat pocket. The Swede walked away with $15,000: $10,000 for himself and $5,000 for his friend, utility infielder Fred McMullin, who had not yet received a dime.<br />
<br />
Gandil watched them all go and sat alone with the balance of the cash. He had collected $70,000 from Sullivan and $10,000 from Attell. Of this he had distributed $45,000, leaving a tidy $35,000 for himself."<br />
<br /></blockquote>
There are multiple problems with that account:<br />
<br />
First, there are only five men who could have testified to what happened that day. None of them ever talked to Asinof, and none of them ever told such a story elsewhere. Asinof started researching the book in 1960. <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/83d52aa2">Nat Evans</a> died in 1935, and never discussed his role in the scandal with any journalists or authorities. <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/423c7256">Sport Sullivan</a> lived until 1949, but kept mum about his role in the 1919 World Series fix, although he outlived all the pertinent statutes of limitations. <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/7d8be958">Fred McMullin</a> and <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/fde3d63f">Swede Risberg</a> never discussed their roles in the fix with anyone. Chick Gandil refused to talk to Asinof, but <a href="https://chicagology.com/baseball/1919worldseries/gandilmystory1956/">did tell his side of the story</a> in 1956. Unfortunately his self-serving version of events was riddled with holes, including a claim that he received no money at all, let alone the massive payday described above.<br />
<br />
Second, the account is internally inconsistent. McMullin was present in the room when the meeting began, but Risberg ended up walking out with some money for himself and some for McMullin. If McMullin was there, why didn't he take his own money?<br />
<br />
Third, Risberg did not "barely hit his weight" unless he was actually a 4th grader. He batted .080 in the Series. Asinof seems to have seen no need to look up the statistics of a World Series he was researching.<br />
<br />
Fourth, Sport Sullivan had no reason to give the players their final pay-off when they had already lost the series. They had no recourse if he stiffed them. They couldn't go to the police, thus getting banned from baseball, confined to a jail cell, or both. They couldn't challenge Arnold Rothstein, which might have resulted in their confinement to a much smaller area than a jail cell, one about six feet below ground level.<br />
<br />
Fifth, it strains one's credulity to posit that Gandil made $35,000 on the Series. That represented a vast amount of purchasing power in 1919. Since Gandil also got the <a href="http://www.baseball-almanac.com/ws/wsshares.shtml">loser's share of the Series money</a>, some $3,254, he would have walked away from the club with $38,254 that autumn, by Asinof's reckoning. According to <a href="http://www.westegg.com/inflation/">the inflation calculator</a>, that would be the equivalent of $530,000 in 2015. In an era when the average worker made $25 per week, Gandil would have been a rich man if Asinof's account were credible, but there was no evidence then, or at any later period in his life, that he actually possessed that kind of money. Club owner Charles Comiskey had Gandil investigated <a href="http://sabr.org/research/comiskeys-detectives">by detectives</a>. The only unusual purchases he made after the Series were a house worth approximately $6,500, on which he made a $3,200 deposit, and a new car that cost about $2,000. In 8MO, Asinof incorrectly reported that the detectives discovered that Gandil had purchased “a sizeable quantity of diamonds.” The detectives actually made no such report, nor anything like it. Since <a href="https://www.baseball-almanac.com/ws/wsshares.shtml">Gandil received $3,254 from his World Series share</a>, which was just enough for the down payment on his house, only the cash for the car remains unaccounted for, and was presumably acquired from his share of the gamblers' pay-offs. For the remainder of his life, Gandil lived modestly and within his means as a semi-pro ballplayer and blue collar laborer. In fact, as early as 1922 Gandil was said to be "<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Reno_Gazette_Journal_Mon__Feb_6__1922_sox_after_banishment.jpg">broke and working as a house painter, writing pitiful appeals for aid to his old friends in Chicago</a>."<br />
<br />
<br />
We will probably never know precisely how the money was actually distributed, but the evidence points to the following:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>
In his grand jury testimony, Cicotte admitted to having received $10,000 before the first game of the Series.</li>
<br />
<li>
In their grand jury testimony, Jackson and Williams admitted to having taken $5,000. <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/felsch_interview.jpg">Felsch admitted to a newspaper reporter</a> that he received $5,000. All three of these payments were received during the Chicago homestand, after game four or five.</li>
<br />
<li>
<a href="http://sabr.org/research/comiskeys-detectives">According to Comiskey's detectives</a>, the family of Risberg's mistress believed that he had received $10,000. This belief does not seem to have come from a direct admission by Risberg, so it can't be considered authoritative, although there is nothing to contradict it. The amount seems to have been pulled out of a hat. It might just as well have been $5,000.</li>
<br />
<li>
<a href="http://www.blackbetsy.com/jjtestimony1920.pdf">Joe Jackson testified</a> to the grand jury that he had heard McMullin got $5,000. This is another number which can't be considered reliable, but is the only known mention of McMullin's share.
</li>
<br />
<li>Buck Weaver has never been accused of taking any money.</li>
<br />
</ul>
Nobody knows exactly how much was paid by the gamblers to the players, but the following outlines the likely possibilities:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Before game one: $10,000 from Sport Sullivan.</li>
<br />
<li>
After game two: $10,000 from Attell through Bill Burns.</li>
<br />
<li>
During the Chicago homestand: $20,000 from Sport Sullivan, out of his own pocket.</li>
<br />
<li>
After the series: either nothing, or $40,000 from Sport Sullivan.</li>
<br />
</ul>
We can therefore make some guesses at the payday Gandil might have earned as the instigator of the plot, direct contact to the gamblers, and re-distributor of the players' shares.<br />
<br />
Scenario one, assuming the final $40,000 was paid to the players:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
If the total amount paid to the players was $80,000 and the total amount paid to the other Black Sox was $40,000, as outlined above (Cicotte and Risberg $10k apiece, Williams, Jackson, Felsch and McMullin $5k apiece), or $45,000, as suggested by Asinov (the additional $5k going to Risberg), then Gandil took the rest, leaving the game with a fortune equivalent to more than $500,000 in today's dollars. If Gandil really had that much money, he kept it well hidden through the years.
<br />
<br />
In this scenario, Risberg also did a brilliant job of concealing his ill-gotten booty. Counting his World Series shares, Risberg would have had either $13,254 or $18,254 ($180k-$250k in 2015 dollars) at the end of 1919, yet continued to live simply, with no conspicuous consumption in evidence during his life. If he truly received that much money, he never really got much enjoyment from it.
</blockquote><br />
<br />
Scenario two, assuming the final $40,000 was fictional:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
If the final $40,000 was never paid, then there was only $40,000 to go around. Since Cicotte got his $10,000 upfront and Weaver got nothing, the other six most likely got $5,000 each, as Abe Attell told sportswriter Joe Williams in 1934:</blockquote><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJesFDs0UclrGF152BQDAg-FWHQHKtAjJhmOwilT_GbDx_8LKrGl4PVUFpOWVuRWhtJCfR3iJPE0E6KHoC1n2ablIkXpBGg9VYchsXABrN3s_R3xTTJX5Tg9Hd6zvclkOpVEB2tk3pjhxq/s1600/cicotte_first_pitch-others_five_apiece.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJesFDs0UclrGF152BQDAg-FWHQHKtAjJhmOwilT_GbDx_8LKrGl4PVUFpOWVuRWhtJCfR3iJPE0E6KHoC1n2ablIkXpBGg9VYchsXABrN3s_R3xTTJX5Tg9Hd6zvclkOpVEB2tk3pjhxq/s1600/cicotte_first_pitch-others_five_apiece.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I prefer scenario two, but not because Abe Attell supported it. Over the course of more than 40 years, he retold the story many times, and the tale was different every time he related it, depending on whether he was telling the truth, drunkenly pretending to be a big shot, or disingenuously posing as a victim. There is no easy way to tell honest Abe from crooked Abe or to separate his confessions from his posturing. Attell aside, this scenario seems to reconcile more easily with how the players lived their lives from that point forward, and it supports the more likely supposition that the final $40,000 payment was entirely fabricated by Asinov.
<br />
<br />
Although one is more likely than the other, both scenarios are merely conjectural. A full century has passed since the Black Sox threw that Series and the whispers have silenced. The money trail is overgrown, and we know of no more evidence that can clear it. All we know for sure, perhaps all we will ever know, is that four players admitted to having received a total of $25,000 (Cicotte $10,000, Jackson $5,000, Felsch $5,000, Williams $5,000), that there was probably at least $10,000 more to spread around (the Attell contribution), and that poor ol' Buck Weaver has never been accused of taking a red cent. What the other three players received will probably remain an eternal mystery, since they have long since finished strutting and fretting their hour on the stage. Gandil, Risberg and McMullin were the guiltiest of the guilty, the coldest of the cold, the hard guys who never broke, but they can neither stonewall nor betray us any longer, for they have moved on - to a place beyond guilt, where a soft, warm breeze is always blowing out toward center, carrying their secrets with it.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Next, in Part V: Charles Comiskey, team owner, the Old Roman.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-9436872909730211842016-05-14T18:31:00.001-07:002019-08-23T14:45:44.812-07:00The Black Sox, Part V: Commy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsr_IPyhkXRcyKna3cXGQrAJm8CTYvLY-JblnrJyzrrQy63lKYBHOcKVJLFAEGldfW3S7e1sV8cMyNEhQBStUMUS6tUOYC7G6aAighHkVCdbRbz-zIfOYXA8YlNiQYHWIKWPJR50P_dEeW/s1600/09sncomiskeylarge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsr_IPyhkXRcyKna3cXGQrAJm8CTYvLY-JblnrJyzrrQy63lKYBHOcKVJLFAEGldfW3S7e1sV8cMyNEhQBStUMUS6tUOYC7G6aAighHkVCdbRbz-zIfOYXA8YlNiQYHWIKWPJR50P_dEeW/s1600/09sncomiskeylarge.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>"Whatever his stature in professional baseball, however many his notable contributions to its turbulent history, to his employees he was a cheap stingy tyrant."</i></blockquote>
</blockquote>
<center>
(Eliot Asinof writing about Charles Comiskey in Eight Men Out)</center>
<br />
<br />
In addition to the inevitable constraints imposed by his lack of access to primary sources, as discussed in part four of this series, Eliot Asinof was also given a bum steer about how to approach his work thematically. In assembling 8MO, Asinof was greatly influenced by the work of two great Chicago-based writers who had been boys when the 1919 series was thrown. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nelson_Algren">Nelson Algren</a> and <a href="http://www.pennilesspress.co.uk/prose/farrell.htm">James T. Farrell</a> were highly talented authors who had each penned short pieces about the Black Sox.<br />
<br />
Algren was ten during the 1919 series and his favorite ballplayer had been Swede Risberg, one of the banned Black Sox. His bittersweet prose-poem of remembrance, "<a href="http://search.proquest.com/openview/6b128d46ef64ad7062ef12ea4a871239/1?pq-origsite=gscholar">The Swede Was a Hard Guy</a>," was published in The Southern Review in 1942, and was quoted extensively by Asinof in 8MO. Algren, in return, later wrote an expanded version of "The Swede Was a Hard Guy" called "Ballet for Opening Day" in which he quoted Asinof and relied on Asinof's version of the scandal.<br />
<br />
Farrell was fifteen when the Sox took their dive, and his idol had been Bucky Weaver, another banned player whom <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Farrell_Weaver.jpg">Farrell would later interview</a>. Asinof had started 8MO when he heard that Farrell already had a Black Sox novel in the pipeline. Asinof was going to drop his project, but when the two men met, it was Farrell who first offered to step aside. As Asinof described their meeting in his book "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bleeding-between-lines-Eliot-Asinof/dp/0030475368">Bleeding Between the Lines</a>," Farrell said "My book ... it doesn't seem to work. There's no reason for you not to go ahead, Eliot. In fact, you're the one to do it." He then proceeded to share everything he knew about the Black Sox, starting immediately and continuing throughout Asinof's researches, until 8MO was published in 1963 with a rave review from Farrell. James T. Farrell continued to write extensively about the game of baseball in general, and created several versions of his Black Sox novel, but never published it. After his death, scholars used three of his drafts to create a novel "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Dreaming-Baseball-Writing-Professor-Farrell/dp/0873388976">Dreaming Baseball</a>", which is the closest we will ever have to the Black Sox fiction Farrell had been planning. Eliot Asinof wrote the foreword to that novel about a fictional rookie who found himself on the White Sox bench in 1919.<br />
<br />
Asinof's admiration for and collaboration with these two literary giants brought great positives to 8MO, but at the same time, led him down a misleading thematic path which was buttressed by inaccurate information, and from which he could never escape. Both Farrell and Algren had been staunch leftists, and they tended to see the Black Sox scandal in terms of the injustice in the worker/management relationship, thus portraying the Sox as the exploited chattel of the miserly team owner, Charles Comiskey, whose slave wages and broken promises drove his players to turn against him. Asinof was himself a proud member of the old left who had once fronted for blacklisted authors, then had been blacklisted himself. The Algren/Farrell point of view was so consistent with his own weltanschauung that he incorporated it into his own thinking about the scandal, and allowed it to permeate every aspect of his narrative, even when it led him astray.<br />
<br />
In Asinof's view Comiskey was a parsimonious oligarch who ruled like a tyrant and became an arrogant plutocrat at the expense of his players. The Black Sox criminal trial is probably the source of that perception, because that had certainly not been the common view until it was generated by the defense strategy in that trial. There was really no way for the defense team to claim that the defendants had not taken money to throw the Series. Four of the players had confessed at one time or another, and the others were implicated by two eyewitnesses. But a defense had to be made, so the plan centered on three things: first: the technical legal strategy that their clients never actually did anything illegal even if all the accusations were true (throwing ball games was not a crime <i>per se</i>, nor was accepting money to do so); second, the obfuscation strategy of saying that the players and penny-ante gamblers were being prosecuted while the masterminds went free; third, the sympathy strategy of turning the tables, thus placing Comiskey on trial and positioning the ballplayers to the jury as desperate victims held under the thumb of a tightwad roughly on a par with Jacob Marley. Most of the anti-Comiskey arguments crumble under scrutiny, but once such a perception is erected, it is difficult to dismantle.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><b>What was Comiskey like?</b></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsgwsUSqT1qr5yv1gcTQYJJYgNlXBf0AMSDzOzVmM3tNV7PKlzOvkDj3uxsABjYPGIdKPjIKIPick79pbT6qw3aEBcUhfpkcES8hvHnwGRxBWaPwWONFHBvOwkeXTl4vIJACWtp2p-Hgab/s1600/comiskey_1877.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsgwsUSqT1qr5yv1gcTQYJJYgNlXBf0AMSDzOzVmM3tNV7PKlzOvkDj3uxsABjYPGIdKPjIKIPick79pbT6qw3aEBcUhfpkcES8hvHnwGRxBWaPwWONFHBvOwkeXTl4vIJACWtp2p-Hgab/s200/comiskey_1877.jpg" /></a></div>
One of eight children in a working class family in Chicago, Charles Comiskey left school at 16 to become a plumber's apprentice, but set aside as much time as possible to play amateur and semi-professional baseball. He began his professional career as a pitcher in the independent minors with a team in Elgin, Illinois (left, picturing Comiskey at age 18). After a very brief minor-league stint, and a conversion to first base, his talent landed him on the St. Louis Brown Stockings of the American Association, which was then considered a major league. Within a year, the leadership skill of the 23-year-old Comiskey led to his nomination as manager of the team, an almost unheard of honor in light of his youth and inexperience. He continued in the role of player/manager throughout his career, with that team and others.<br />
<br clear="all" />
His<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/c/comisch01.shtml"> playing career</a> spanned thirteen seasons, mostly playing first base, where he is said to have innovated the practice of playing off the bag. His best season at the plate was 1887, when he batted .335 with more than 100 RBI. <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/managers/comisch01.shtml">As a manager</a> he accumulated a lifetime total of 840 wins with a .608 winning percentage. That is the second-highest winning percentage among managers with 700 or more wins. At one point he achieved four consecutive pennants as a player/manager, as well as an 1886 World Series triumph over the vaunted <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/teams/CHC/1886.shtml">White Stockings</a> in their prime, a team which had played .726 ball during the regular season! The four-time champs are pictured below, Comiskey in the center. (Click to study a very large version.)<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2FOC_KlMlh5w3FiwuT7rXY6-gP-yGeoYhvQusr_rBN7wHo6Hj0l5XsbHyZzgURlG2RzrubaIsL5QqqqnDv2P3n_qn_RkZDpdrP63SvyJRVjBrAwGixZHvuqWXkQzdMi3-LkUO3tKsbZ2/s1600/st.-louis-browns-baseball-portrait-1888.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2FOC_KlMlh5w3FiwuT7rXY6-gP-yGeoYhvQusr_rBN7wHo6Hj0l5XsbHyZzgURlG2RzrubaIsL5QqqqnDv2P3n_qn_RkZDpdrP63SvyJRVjBrAwGixZHvuqWXkQzdMi3-LkUO3tKsbZ2/s1600/st.-louis-browns-baseball-portrait-1888.jpg" width="700" /></a>
<br />
<br />
He set aside enough money during his playing career to purchase a minor league franchise in 1894, the Western League team in Sioux City, which he soon moved to St. Paul and renamed the Saints. The Western League prospered so well that they were able to challenge the established National League. In 1900 Comiskey moved his team to the south side of Chicago as the White Stockings of the renamed American League, and in 1901 the league declared itself "major," justifying that claim by acquiring some of the NL's best players, including Cy Young and Nap Lajoie. Comiskey is pictured below with the very first major league White Sox team. Next to him (to your right) is another future team owner, his manager and star pitcher, Clark Griffith.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAAV7VKhRi247UhvPTYGYNEEJtZYcRObqPfoqhYrFOk0Td7s-z8mSGhcGnIj3F7L8k0qMEqZEbgzgGlWva3M7PZyXNU2sKcGNITggPJT1fGDC-RPtPUux8qYEjHDE4yptt0OHlgAQn8APt/s1600/1901_sox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAAV7VKhRi247UhvPTYGYNEEJtZYcRObqPfoqhYrFOk0Td7s-z8mSGhcGnIj3F7L8k0qMEqZEbgzgGlWva3M7PZyXNU2sKcGNITggPJT1fGDC-RPtPUux8qYEjHDE4yptt0OHlgAQn8APt/s1600/1901_sox.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Back in 1886, as a player/manager, Comiskey had led the team to a World Series victory over the greatest team of that era, the mighty White Stockings. He managed a parallel feat as an owner when <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/teams/CHW/1906.shtml">his 1906 squad</a> (below) defeated the winningest team of the twentieth century, the formidable <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/teams/CHC/1906.shtml">1906 Chicago Cubs </a>of Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance fame. The Cubs had finished the regular season at 116-36. They fielded the best player in the National League at six of the eight non-pitching positions, and a Hall of Famer (Joe Tinker) at one of the other two spots. Their pitching staff had a team ERA of 1.76. They played .800 ball on the road. Many of their records still stand. They were considered all but invincible, yet they suffered the ignominy of <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/postseason/1906_WS.shtml">a loss to Comiskey's Hitless Wonders</a>, another team in the very same city. Most incredibly, the White Sox won all three games in the Cubs' home park.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8V9daLjIN4C2xyoKIuIP_IKhMadArqoYUq6lIuQR8zSuYuEJUQD9YyF59o6QmJ5RnxSqJTV7solpwwjov76CmTUiZuLdc_UJJ7A2a2l6byfGqel0L-xoOkEnaMKWEloRgnY_51LBaTG16/s1600/1906_Chicago_White_Sox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8V9daLjIN4C2xyoKIuIP_IKhMadArqoYUq6lIuQR8zSuYuEJUQD9YyF59o6QmJ5RnxSqJTV7solpwwjov76CmTUiZuLdc_UJJ7A2a2l6byfGqel0L-xoOkEnaMKWEloRgnY_51LBaTG16/s1600/1906_Chicago_White_Sox.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioFl4FsxuqbXu9Y_31TY_464-AHl-t54eTcrIPGhRtdaSM8kHXbO2wYks98jIqB4TfA_yjr0ra9QhtJWtZH3mC0eq13cLwPb_0Cix-0RfJDAdHMwCUx2-AZT4_6By_2hB1_Lmqtkm0AQB-/s1600/comiskey_park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioFl4FsxuqbXu9Y_31TY_464-AHl-t54eTcrIPGhRtdaSM8kHXbO2wYks98jIqB4TfA_yjr0ra9QhtJWtZH3mC0eq13cLwPb_0Cix-0RfJDAdHMwCUx2-AZT4_6By_2hB1_Lmqtkm0AQB-/s200/comiskey_park.jpg" /></a></div>
"Commy" was as good in the owner role as he had been on the field. He built <a href="http://www.ballparksofbaseball.com/past/ComiskeyPark.htm">one of the first great ballparks</a>; he fielded strong teams; he held ticket prices below those of the comparable franchises with modern parks (a bleacher seat cost 25 cents at Comiskey Field in the WW1 era, compared to 50 cents at the Polo Grounds).<br />
<br />
Comiskey's biographer, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Turning-Black-Sox-White-Misunderstood/dp/1613216386">Tim Hornbaker, wrote</a> in 2014:<br />
<blockquote>
"A century ago, in his heyday as an owner, Comiskey was one of the most beloved men in baseball. He possessed an uncanny ability to connect to people and had turned his White Sox ballpark into a warm and welcoming venue that was the envy of his peers. Brimming with a genuine affection for his clientele, he always wore a smile and constantly mingled amidst the people before and after games."</blockquote>
And the press loved him as much as the fans did.<br />
<br />
In short, Comiskey defied the Peter Principle. He had worked all the way up the baseball ladder without ever reaching a level of incompetence. He had once been just another blue-collar kid starting his rookie season with no special advantages, and eventually became a successful, beloved owner in his hometown, and he had done so without connections or family money, but on the strength of his own intelligence, preparation, thrift, ambition, and charm.<br />
<br />
That monster!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red;">Did Comiskey underpay his players?</span></b></div>
<br />
In a word, no, with one possible exception.<br />
<br />
8MO is filled with factual inaccuracies about the salaries of the 1919 White Sox. It is possible to offer some defense of Asinof's poor reporting by acknowledging that the Major League Transaction Cards, which are now available in the Cooperstown library for every team since 1912, were not available to Asinof in the early 60s. It is impossible, however, to defend the fact that he presented wildly inaccurate guesses as if they were facts, and used those errant numbers to support his central thesis about Comiskey being a skinflint who drove his players to mutiny. Here's a blatant example: Asinof reported that Cincinnati's ace pitcher, Dutch Reuther, was making twice as much as the White Sox' Eddie Cicotte. In reality, Cicotte made more than three times as much as Reuther that year ($8,000 vs $2,340)! 8MO also claims that Comiskey's ballplayers "were the best and were paid as poorly as the worst." This is wildly inaccurate. Although the team had finished sixth in the league the previous year, the White Sox payroll on opening day in 1919, excluding performance bonuses, was about $88 thousand in 1919, third highest in the American League, and only slightly below the Red Sox ($93K) and Yankees ($91K). They had five of the sixteen highest salaries in the league in 1919, and seven of the top seventeen in 1920. The team's 1919 payroll was far higher than that of their World Series opponents, the Cincinnati Reds ($76K), whose cumulative payroll amounted to only $800 per win in 1919, compared to $1005 for the White Sox.<br />
<br />
The position-by-position salary chart (from the <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/SABR-Black_Sox_Scandal_Cmte-2015-12.pdf">SABR Black Sox Research Committee Newsletter, December, 2015</a>, pp. 13-15) shows that very few of the Sox had a cause to gripe:
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVGrvrh49j147AWjHZrt4j2Cwe7vNmSZyvT9dnGuBn_1hvuKEUB7_JGIDSoDaUoKQuWKu1kWwGm_sg0WegMVrw1LQHmK-QHvQiRiCrZqYU_UdbvezkOjcAub0_TACR7dfxZRWHc_uIUePz/s1600/theblacksox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVGrvrh49j147AWjHZrt4j2Cwe7vNmSZyvT9dnGuBn_1hvuKEUB7_JGIDSoDaUoKQuWKu1kWwGm_sg0WegMVrw1LQHmK-QHvQiRiCrZqYU_UdbvezkOjcAub0_TACR7dfxZRWHc_uIUePz/s1600/theblacksox.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<b><span style="color: yellow;">Pitchers</span></b>: Lefty Williams (#2 above), a banned player, may have been a bit undercompensated relative to his performance that year. His salary ranked only 23rd among the league's pitchers despite the fact that he won 23 games. His salary, however, was determined at the beginning of the year. It is reasonable to argue that his compensation was commensurate with the results from the previous year, when he won only six games. After his fine 1919 season, the team basically doubled his salary. Eddie Cicotte (#1 above), one of the ringleaders of the fix, had no cause to complain. His total compensation was the second highest among the league's pitchers, behind only Hall of Famer Walter Johnson.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: yellow;">First base</span></b>: Chick Gandil (#4 above), another of the ringleaders, earned only the fifth highest salary among the American Leaguers at his position, but the four men above him were clearly better players, as were two of the other men - George Burns (lifetime .307 over 16 years) and Harry Heilmann (spectacular lifetime .342 and in the Hall of Fame). Gandil was the worst regular first baseman in the league, although he outperformed Cleveland's entry because they didn't have a regular at that position. Even at that, the Cleveland player with the most time at that position, journeyman Doc Johnston, still had a higher OPS+ than Gandil. Gandil was the only first baseman in the league with an adjusted OPS+ below 100, and had the lowest WAR among the starters except for Johnston, who had only 331 at bats.<br />
<br />
<center>
<table border="1" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" style="width: 100%px;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Name, Club</td>
<td valign="top">Salary</td>
<td valign="top">OPS+</td>
<td valign="top">WAR</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">George Sisler, Browns</td>
<td valign="top">7200</td>
<td valign="top">156</td>
<td valign="top">6.1</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Stuffy McInnis, Red Sox</td>
<td valign="top">5000</td>
<td valign="top">101</td>
<td valign="top">1.9</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Wally Pipp, Yankees</td>
<td valign="top">5000</td>
<td valign="top">104</td>
<td valign="top">2.6</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Joe Judge, Senators</td>
<td valign="top">3675</td>
<td valign="top">124</td>
<td valign="top">3.4</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Chick Gandil, White Sox</td>
<td valign="top">3500</td>
<td valign="top">97</td>
<td valign="top">1.5</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Harry Heilmann, Tigers</td>
<td valign="top">3500</td>
<td valign="top">137</td>
<td valign="top">3.8</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">George Burns, As</td>
<td valign="top">2625</td>
<td valign="top">119</td>
<td valign="top">2.0</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Doc Johnston, Indians</td>
<td valign="top">2500</td>
<td valign="top">103</td>
<td valign="top">1.0</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center>
<br />
<br />
Based on the 1919 statistics shown above, Gandil could not reasonably contend that he was underpaid, but then again he was a malcontent not widely known for his inclination to engage in reasonable dialogue.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: yellow;">Second base</span></b>: Future Hall of Famer Eddie Collins (Clean Sox) was paid more than the next two second basemen added together, and deserved it.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: yellow;">Third base</span></b>: Buck Weaver (banned player; #3 above) had the second highest salary among American League third sackers. The only man making more was superstar Home Run Baker, a future Hall of Famer.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: yellow;">Shortstop</span></b>: Swede Risberg (banned player; #5 above) had the sixth highest salary out of the eight starting shortstops. That was not out of line. <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/leagues/AL/1919-specialpos_ss-fielding.shtml#players_standard_fielding::none">He had the lowest range factor in that group</a> by a wide margin, was also a weak hitter, had a below average fielding percentage, and was only 24 years old.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: yellow;">Catcher</span></b>: Future Hall of Famer Ray Schalk (Clean Sox) was the highest-paid catcher in the league, and deserved it.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: yellow;">Left field</span></b>: Joe Jackson (banned player; #6 above) had the second highest salary among the left fielders, which was exactly where he belonged, especially since he was coming off two bad seasons. You might be wondering who could possibly be worth more than Shoeless Joe? It was a young man named George Herman Ruth who, I've heard, was not a bad player in his own right.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: yellow;">Right field</span></b>: Nemo Leibold (Clean Sox) had an excellent season in 1919. He was a dependable player and a solid singles hitter with a .404 OBP, which was second on the team, behind only the redoubtable Shoeless Joe. Nemo ranked only sixth in the league in salary among right fielders. In fact, he was paid only $25 per year more than his understudy, Shano Collins, a part-timer who played in only 63 games. Leibold's low salary was based upon his previous career, which had been nowhere near the level he attained in 1919. In six prior seasons he had never previously achieved an OPS at the league average. In response to his fine 1919 season, the club doubled his salary the following year.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: yellow;">Center field</span></b>: Happy Felsch (#7 above) is probably the only one of the banned players who had a legitimate claim to be undercompensated. He received the fifth highest salary at his position, but was probably the third best player, behind only Hall of Famers Cobb and Speaker, and he had already posted two excellent seasons to support that claim. Relative to his own teammates, he was approximately as good a player as Schalk or Weaver but was getting paid about half as much. Felsch was a simple, easy-going man with a 6th grade education and no skills in negotiation, so it may be reasonable to argue that the team took advantage of him. In fairness to Comiskey, it is worthwhile to note that Felsch did get a massive raise (80%) after his excellent 1919 season.</blockquote>
<br />
Eliot Asinof and his two socialist muses, Farrell and Algren, were correct in believing that all professional ballplayers in those days were exploited by management, thanks to the "reserve clause," which bound a player in perpetuity to any team he signed with, even after his contract had expired, unless the team decided to sell or trade him to another team. This arrangement was completely one-sided in favor of the club owners, and was obviously in restraint of a player's fundamental right to sell his services for what they were worth in a competitive market. The baseball reserve system was not many steps removed from slavery. When a team made a final salary offer, the player could take it or find another line of work for that year. He could not sell his services to another team in organized baseball, whether major league or minor. As a result, virtually all ballplayers before free agency were underpaid relative to their value in an open market.<br />
<br />
The 1919 White Sox were underpaid in that sense, but only in that sense. They were paid better than most of the other professional teams, so their salaries cannot be used to justify their unique level of corruption or to characterize team owner Charles Comiskey as a miserable tightwad. He was paying them at or near the top of the market, albeit a market both closed and rigged.<br />
<br />
As unfair as the system was, it is worth noting that the ballplayers made far more money than common laborers, which most of them would have been without their baseball skills. The<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/1820827?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents"> average annual salary in the United States in 1919</a> was $1,331 for almost 2,400 hours of work, averaging 56 cents per hour. Even bench-warmer Fred McMullin (banned player #8 in the illustration) made $2,750 in 1919 for working seven months in the year. On a monthly basis, that is almost four times as much as he would have earned in a blue collar job. It is certainly true that the ballplayers of that day were not compensated like the ones in the era of free agency, but they still led better lives than they would have lived outside of baseball.<br />
<br />
If Asinof was wrong about the White Sox players being among the worst-compensated in baseball, was he at least correct about them being the best team? Well, they did win the pennant, and they seemed to be the best in the league in 1919. The golden haze of nostalgia has surrounded them with a special aura that seems to establish them as one of the greatest teams ever assembled, but they didn't impress people that way before the season began. The Syracuse Herald reported the 1919 pre-season odds in the April 18th edition, and the consensus of bookmakers was that the Red Sox would win the pennant. The White Sox were picked to finish fourth. Six days later, The Sporting News published the sportswriters' predictions, and their consensus ranked the teams in the same order as the bookmakers. The White Sox salaries at the beginning of the year were completely consistent with the general contemporaneous evaluation of the club.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red;">Did Comiskey cheat Eddie Cicotte out of a deserved bonus?</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUjjouHbeBnre7gkkb4-M-GG0yUFuTP39nvcv4uWNzvmPvkO29Bl77QVHfFWG-Oqnry2HTQueJhDBfaRuUlg-toxwaxEXv53bJHwmKISC7EjvTrRLIwtEByrro7ZSv9FYneUMbKCOf-z84/s1600/cicotte.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUjjouHbeBnre7gkkb4-M-GG0yUFuTP39nvcv4uWNzvmPvkO29Bl77QVHfFWG-Oqnry2HTQueJhDBfaRuUlg-toxwaxEXv53bJHwmKISC7EjvTrRLIwtEByrro7ZSv9FYneUMbKCOf-z84/s1600/cicotte.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
"29 is not 30, Eddie."
<br />
<br />
There is a tightly scripted sequence of movie scenes that drives the plot of "Eight Men Out" in a perfectly logical way. Gandil asks Cicotte to participate in the fix, but Cicotte declines. Cicotte goes into Comiskey's office to ask for the $10,000 bonus Comiskey promised him. Comiskey weasels out of it. The wheels seem to turn in Cicotte's angry brain. He wants that ten grand. Cicotte storms back to Gandil and says he'll throw the Series if he gets ten grand in advance.<br />
<br />
Great filmmaking.<br />
<br />
In a <b>fictional</b> film based on a novel.<br />
<br />
None of that, or anything similar, ever happened. In fact, it was about as far from the truth as anything could be.<br />
<br />
The public legend of the Cicotte bonus seems to have originated in a gambling newspaper called Collyer's Eye <a href="http://www.blackbetsy.com/imagefarm/collyers-eye/collyers_1919_dec13_p1.jpg">in the December 13, 1919 edition</a>. The story was alleged to have originated from Cicotte himself, as told to a sportswriter named Harry Bradford. It was obvious at the time that the article could not have been accurate, and probably was written by someone with no grasp of baseball, because the author claimed that Cicotte became truculent after winning his 30th game and getting the brush-off on the bonus he was promised for achieving that milestone. The major flaw of that contention is that Cicotte never won his 30th game at all, as anyone who followed baseball would have known two months after the season ended.<br />
<br />
Asinof was never one to let some factual inconsistencies get in the way of a useful myth, so he cobbled the story to fit the facts. Surely Cicotte <i>would</i> have won 30 if Comiskey had not ordered him benched to avoid paying the bonus.<br />
<br />
In the book version of 8MO, Asinof claims that Comiskey's treachery happened in 1917. That turned out to be not only a false claim, but a ludicrous one, given that Cicotte had never won more than 18 games in any previous season, so an incentive clause for winning 30 would have seemed laughable, about like promising Gus Triandos a bonus for stealing 50 bases. The part about Comiskey ordering Cicotte to be benched made the story even more surreal, since it was just about the opposite of what really happened. On August 22nd of that year, the White Sox clung to a narrow two-game lead over the Red Sox, whereupon they turned to Cicotte, their ace, to take the mound every time he could pitch without pain. He had only 18 wins at that point, but <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.cgi?id=cicoted01&t=p&year=1917&share=3.06#377-387-sum:pitching_gamelogs">pitched in 11 of the team's final 33</a> games and got the decision in every one of those games, winning ten of them to finish the season with 28 victories. There were some periods when he got no rest at all. He pitched a complete game victory on September 2nd, then came right back the next day and pitched six more innings for another win. Five other times he took the mound after only one or two days of rest. Altogether he pitched 84 innings in little more than a month. It is just about inconceivable that he could have pitched any more, and he most certainly was never benched, with or without Comiskey's orders.<br />
<br />
Asinof must have realized that he had made an error with this yarn, because the movie version of the story moved the incident to 1919. The situation was at least plausible in that season because Cicotte's 28-win season in 1917, and especially his ten wins in 33 scheduled games, had established that he was absolutely capable of winning 30. Such a bonus theoretically could have existed, but it did not. Although there was no ten thousand dollar bonus, Cicotte did have a smaller bonus built into his 1919 salary structure. What's more, he earned it, and it was paid! Yet again the truth was nearly the opposite of Asinof's claim, as baseball researcher and salary specialist Bob Hoie wrote in his foreward to "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Turning-Black-Sox-White-Misunderstood/dp/B00IVMA64Y/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1463106115&sr=1-2">Turning the Black Sox White</a>":<br />
<blockquote>
"After winning 28 in 1917, Cicotte was given a contract with a base salary of $5,000, a $2,000 signing bonus and an additional agreement that he would receive a $3,000 bonus if he had another season similar to 1917. In 1919 ... the $3,000 bonus was carried over so by the start of the eastern road trip he had 28 wins, thus assuring that he would get the bonus."</blockquote>
He finished the 1919 season with a 29-7 record and an ERA again below two, whereupon the White Sox paid his bonus, presumably with a grateful smile. As for the Comiskey-ordered benching, yet again it was the opposite of what really happened. Cicotte won his 28th game on September 5th, assuring that he would make his bonus, then took sick and missed about two weeks. Since Cicotte had earned his bonus and the team had a comfortable lead at the time, it was not considered a significant matter. He returned on September 19th to win his 29th game, and the pennant was all but assured, so it was <a href="https://www.detroitathletic.com/blog/2012/03/11/the-sad-story-of-detroiter-eddie-cicotte-and-the-black-sox-scandal/">Cicotte himself who then asked for some time off</a> to spend with his family, obviously indicating that the 30th win did not seem critical to him. That request was granted. He also got two more starts after he returned, so it's clear that nobody on the club was trying to keep him from reaching 30.<br />
<br />
So I think the famous line should have been:<br />
<br />
"29 is more than 28, Eddie, so here's your check. Nice job!"<br />
<br />
That shows you why I will never be asked to write a movie.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red;">Did Comiskey pay his players a lower per diem meal allowance than other owners?</span></b></div>
<b><br /></b>Yes, he did for a while.<br />
<br />
To contend so is not an outright error, but is highly misleading. The standard per diem meal allowance had been three dollars per day in 1918, and this rate was applied just about universally throughout the majors. When World War One ended, the fans were expected to return, and some teams raised the rate to four dollars in anticipation of post-war prosperity. They did so on their own, not in concert or as the result of an agreement. The White Sox began the 1919 season at the old rate. On May 18th they acquired journeyman pitcher Grover Lowdermilk from St. Louis to shore up an ailing pitching staff, and he reported that the lowly Browns had raised the per diem to four dollars. This precipitated a controversy in the invariably contentious White Sox clubhouse, which led to a change. By the end of the season, <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=sLceAwAAQBAJ&lpg=PP4&ots=8tKAUIx6tN&dq=Bob%20Hoie%20black%20sox&pg=PP10#v=onepage&q=meal%20money&f=false">the White Sox meal allowance had been raised to four dollars per day</a> to match the new <i>de facto</i> standard.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;">Was Comiskey getting ever richer off his starving players?</span></b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
No.<br />
<br />
Contrary to the defense team's contentions in the Black Sox trial, many of which linger in today's conventional wisdom, Comiskey was not accumulating vast wealth by riding the backs of his players. Court records from 1915 to 1917 show that <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=sLceAwAAQBAJ&lpg=PP14&vq=White%20Sox%20net%20profits&pg=PP14#v=snippet&q=White%20Sox%20net%20profits&f=false">the White Sox made an average annual profit of $141,000 and Comiskey himself earned a salary of $10,000 per year</a>, substantially less than his second baseman, Eddie Collins ($15,000). The team's annual profit was modest in comparison to the New York Giants, who cleared $250,000 per year from 1912-1917, despite lower attendance than the White Sox during that decade, according to the biography <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=HBuuVAG6NxIC&lpg=PP1&dq=john%20mcgraw%20by%20charles%20alexander&pg=PP1#v=onepage&q=john%20mcgraw%20by%20charles%20alexander&f=false">"John McGraw" by Charles Alexander</a>.<br />
<br />
Of course Comiskey was frugal. That's how he managed to save enough to buy a team on a ballplayer's salary. Given that aspect of his nature, he took some actions which made him seem penurious to his players. Some of their criticisms of him were misinterpretations, deliberate or otherwise, but Comiskey made mistakes as well, for he was human. It is true that later in his life, especially after the Black Sox scandal, his personality did start to evince some of the negative characteristics that color our current attitudes toward him. But to take all of that out of context in order to limn the Old Roman as a cantankerous, avaricious miser whose penny-pinching ways drove his players to dishonesty in 1919 is to do a great disservice to a man who, while not without flaws, on balance was a good man as well as a great one.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Next, in Part VI: Wrapping it Up
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-82071181891508746592016-05-08T19:24:00.001-07:002021-02-09T02:10:41.574-08:00The Black Sox, part III: The Big Bankroll<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqncxvMeJgE3cczBuR15qoE1fkSlz0xVvVFKXtvU3r3GMUef1EQJr_VvyffczN3psUurXcg3GGDxdXxH72rm-h1pueJ5HOvG1BQ4G5xdQtlc_rmMmF6f7-tL3i4GkZSGhUoLVaZNrjOr3/s1600/ar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqncxvMeJgE3cczBuR15qoE1fkSlz0xVvVFKXtvU3r3GMUef1EQJr_VvyffczN3psUurXcg3GGDxdXxH72rm-h1pueJ5HOvG1BQ4G5xdQtlc_rmMmF6f7-tL3i4GkZSGhUoLVaZNrjOr3/s1600/ar.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<center>
<i>"He is the Napoleon of crime.</i></center>
<center>
<i>He is the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city ..."</i></center>
<center>
<i><br /></i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sherlock Holmes, referring to Moriarty, in "The Final Problem"
</span></center>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Y9cHv9Wb_ktYdLvuN7ICP3m9ks5cLlAmcmGtXMy8z40NZdbzZ9IIOxdHmyp-a57lrvwcG8emAX7Ix_pjv0xFi5a5-XqzgrtMhTPH2uo0ZcxeQAxKSvmB0glLUEl_6veBWj6AG05zyel8/s1600/Pd_Moriarty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Y9cHv9Wb_ktYdLvuN7ICP3m9ks5cLlAmcmGtXMy8z40NZdbzZ9IIOxdHmyp-a57lrvwcG8emAX7Ix_pjv0xFi5a5-XqzgrtMhTPH2uo0ZcxeQAxKSvmB0glLUEl_6veBWj6AG05zyel8/s1600/Pd_Moriarty.jpg" /></a></div>
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Conan_Doyle">Sir Arthur Conan Doyle</a>, creator of Sherlock Holmes, revealed to an acquaintance, Dr. Gray C. Briggs of St. Louis, that he had based the character of Professor Moriarty on a real criminal from the late 19th century named <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adam_Worth">Adam Worth</a>, but he could have found a suitable model in New York in the person of his own contemporary <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arnold_Rothstein">Arnold Rothstein</a>. (Rothstein died in 1928, Conan Doyle in 1930.) Although Rothstein portrayed himself as a gentleman gambler, he was reputed to have his hands in many of the criminal enterprises in the United States. Some say that he was the one man most responsible for creating the modern structure of organized crime in America. He was a notorious high-stakes loan shark, the <a href="https://newrepublic.com/article/109050/american-shylock-arnold-rothstein-18821928">"American Shylock</a>." During Prohibition he was once the largest bootlegger in the country, but when the liquor field became too crowded, he became the kingpin of narcotics trafficking. Because he was connected to everyone on both sides of the law, he often mediated disputes between rival gangs, or between the gangs and the authorities, all the while taking a cut for his services. His own businesses met with little interference because he freely and generously spread the profits around. He distributed contributions to many politicians, witnesses, lawyers, judges, jurors and policemen, thus always ensuring that he could pull strings and leverage favors. He may sometimes have overpaid for what he wanted, but that didn't really concern him much because he loved being a big shot, and to that end was always playing the long game, waiting.<br />
<br />
His own lawyer, <a href="http://www.nypress.com/bill-fallon-the-great-mouthpiece-and-archetypal-amoral-criminal-defense-lawyer/">William Fallon</a> (aka "The Great Mouthpiece") said of him, <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=A_46aa7xG0YC&lpg=PA225&ots=82F05DWEy6&dq=%22Rothstein%20is%20a%20man%20who%20dwells%20in%20doorways.%20A%20mouse%20standing%20in%20a%20doorway%2C%20waiting%20for%20his%20cheese.%22&pg=PA226#v=onepage&q=%22Rothstein%20is%20a%20man%20who%20dwells%20in%20doorways.%20A%20mouse%20standing%20in%20a%20doorway,%20waiting%20for%20his%20cheese.%22&f=false">"Rothstein is a man who dwells in doorways. A mouse standing in a doorway, waiting for his cheese."</a> In <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2009/03/02/talk-it-up">Damon Runyon's Broadway stories, he is "The Brain."</a> They also called him "A.R."; "The Fixer"; "The Man Uptown"; "Mr. Big" ...
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlRm2_XJXbAuytObNHivNG4SB_VitzlHJ3f64hSVaKKt-YIZzSv-2Dar7BI_E9pzG1nVFQc1zqpKbKv4M6hgO9jShtgAGwrGmhsStEMque7GhaS9kvsO1wE8TQ4i2ejNRoZPVHXhHo7LM5/s1600/rothstein-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlRm2_XJXbAuytObNHivNG4SB_VitzlHJ3f64hSVaKKt-YIZzSv-2Dar7BI_E9pzG1nVFQc1zqpKbKv4M6hgO9jShtgAGwrGmhsStEMque7GhaS9kvsO1wE8TQ4i2ejNRoZPVHXhHo7LM5/s1600/rothstein-1.jpg" /></a></div>
But mostly they called him <a href="http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/blacksox/rothsteinbio.html">"The Big Bankroll"</a> because he always carried a wad of large bills, leaving him unfailingly prepared to make a deal, grease a wheel, place a bet, or post bail for himself or an associate. He liked the power of cash and its ability to get immediate results. He also liked the fact that the feds couldn't easily follow its trail, because he didn't like leaving a public footprint. He rarely met directly or communicated directly about illegal matters, except when in the company of trusted associates. His underlings met with anyone not fully vetted. Rothstein himself usually avoided publicity and was rarely photographed. (The pictures here are among the few available.) His penchant for secrecy extended to his deathbed. Lying in a hospital bed after having been fatally wounded by a gunshot, Rothstein was asked by the police to name his assailant. His answer: <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=n9IdCgAAQBAJ&lpg=PA100&ots=ybmucBrgXm&dq=%22I%20won%27t%20talk%20about%20it.%20I%27ll%20take%20care%20of%20it%20myself.%22&pg=PA100#v=onepage&q=%22I%20won't%20talk%20about%20it.%20I'll%20take%20care%20of%20it%20myself.%22&f=false">"I won't talk about it. I'll take care of it myself."</a> He never did. Neither did the law. Nobody was convicted of the murder.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpIEnbf282DsLAehRiG3Bt8EGxLIOfNXxC4q3HwPpJPSAGNJEOY6YsGs3avz9nJVQpIBpPAd1O5isqPsswQbPFHWU0LOqrlDOiKYC5pU8OvmdJGYpaEk5fbt0mEdye4vRLbIrcg9XhA6yq/s1600/american_shylock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpIEnbf282DsLAehRiG3Bt8EGxLIOfNXxC4q3HwPpJPSAGNJEOY6YsGs3avz9nJVQpIBpPAd1O5isqPsswQbPFHWU0LOqrlDOiKYC5pU8OvmdJGYpaEk5fbt0mEdye4vRLbIrcg9XhA6yq/s200/american_shylock.jpg" /></a></div>
Despite having his fingers in so many criminal pies, Rothstein, like Professor Moriarty, was never convicted of any crime. He managed to avoid prosecution by gaining a financial hold on the era's corrupt officials and outsmarting the honest ones. To make search warrants useless, he maintained his notes and financial records in an indecipherable code, meaningless to anyone but Rothstein himself. When legally forced to decrypt his books from time to time, he would simply offer whatever explanation was convenient to maintain his current alibi. He was always many moves ahead of his criminal rivals and the authorities who pursued him. Essentially he was playing three-dimensional chess when his opponents and pursuers were still trying to master tiddlywinks. Rothstein actually enjoyed testifying in court from time to time because it gave him an opportunity to browbeat and humiliate the lawyers who cross-examined him.<br />
<br />
One illustration will suffice. The following anecdote comes from <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leo_Katcher">Leo Katcher</a>'s biography of Rothstein, "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Big-Bankroll-Times-Arnold-Rothstein/dp/0306805650">The Big Bankroll</a>," page 200:<br />
<br />
In 1923 he was being cross-examined by a sharp lawyer named William Chadbourne in a civil case involving a fraudulent bankruptcy. A company called E.M. Fuller had declared that it had no assets to transfer to its creditors, but an investigation revealed that Mr. Fuller, before attempting to disappear, had written company checks to Arnold Rothstein in the amount of $353,000. Chadbourne, acting as attorney for the investors and other creditors, wanted to proved that money was not a legitimate business expense, but a personal gambling debt, possibly caused by a fixed World Series. The court allowed Chadbourne a lot of latitude to prove Rothstein was a gambler and a fixer, which led into a cross-examination about the 1919 World Series.<br />
<br />
Rothstein initially protested that he would not discuss the Series, which was irrelevant to the matter at hand. Chadbourne explained to the court, "I am seeking to prove that the witness had full knowledge that the Series was fixed and that, with this knowledge, he won various wagers, including some from Mr. Fuller." Rothstein protested vigorously, repeatedly refusing to answer, offering various reasons why he should not have to go over this same ground after having been cleared many times of his involvement with that Series. Rothstein's resistance seemed to prove that the line of questioning would be productive, so Chadbourne felt he was on the right track and kept up the pressure. Little did Chadbourne realize that he was falling for the ol' Br'er Rabbit trick. In asking the judge not to let Chadbourne throw him into that briar patch, Rothstein had actually baited a brilliant trip. Chadbourne took the bait, along with the hook, the line and the sinker. <br />
<br />
<blockquote>
Chadbourne: "Did you bet with Fuller on the 1919 Series?"<br />
<br />
Rothstein: "I made a lot of bets. It's a long time. I'm not sure I remember."<br />
<br />
Chadbourne: "Check your records."<br />
<br />
Rothstein: (Consulting his ledgers, then answering resignedly) "Yes"<br />
<br />
Chadbourne: "How much did you bet with Fuller?"<br />
<br />
Rothstein: "The bet was $25,000."<br />
<br />
Chadbourne: (Triumphantly) "Then you won $25,000 from Fuller on a Series that was fixed?"<br />
<br />
Rothstein: (Smugly) "I didn't win. I lost."
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
Perhaps Quentin Tarantino might have created a movie scene like that, but even Tarantino's fertile imagination might not have foreseen what transpired next. Rothstein just happened to have on him the cancelled check indicating what he had paid to Fuller to settle this wager. My, what a serendipitous coincidence! He handed it to a nonplussed Chadbourne, and the court had no choice but to tag it and admit it as evidence.<br />
<br />
Chadbourne was a skilled attorney, but he was not Sherlock Holmes, and he was dealing with, to paraphrase Holmes, the organizer of half that was evil and of nearly all that was undetected in the teens and roaring twenties. Rothstein brought this same level of conniving brilliance and strategic forethought to all his endeavors, including his involvement in the 1919 World Series.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>
***</center>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbya2Ua8N7P_QW2D8duu0O7DbieT5riAM5ykhzhuZaDn_HQBezmFoBMfgftWas00P7gqWIr8x7zr4X81Chi2PqIEEgMvThA79QSFt9fO3cG_ca-7QcTnkD1HsJW-vGb0n_Yul4QfbMoFD6/s1600/ansonia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbya2Ua8N7P_QW2D8duu0O7DbieT5riAM5ykhzhuZaDn_HQBezmFoBMfgftWas00P7gqWIr8x7zr4X81Chi2PqIEEgMvThA79QSFt9fO3cG_ca-7QcTnkD1HsJW-vGb0n_Yul4QfbMoFD6/s200/ansonia.jpg" width="120" /></a></div>
On September 18, 1919, in the lobby of New York's beaux-arts Ansonia Hotel (right), two members of the Chicago White Sox baseball team, pitcher Eddie Cicotte and first baseman Chick Gandil, had arranged to meet with a former pitcher named Sleepy Bill Burns. The White Sox had just completed a series with the New York Yankees, and had a six and a half game lead over their nearest rivals. Since there were only eight games left to play, they were virtually certain to be in the World Series. Two days earlier, in the same hotel, Cicotte had said to Burns, "The Sox will win the pennant, and I have something good for you."<br />
<br />
Cicotte had gone into no details about the nature of that prospective boon, but Burns fancied himself a wheeler-dealer, and he knew that Cicotte was aware of that, so Sleepy Bill was drooling at what might be dangled before him when he was summoned to a second meeting. Gandil wasted no time, but came right to the point: "If I could get $100,000, I would throw the World Series." Burns said he would look into it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFc9_r9qxGlzEHMz0_bTA62lJrLD5npt0OHzVSrTl81bRrnUiLZT6GuCluPL1_Zk3wKw6PrmfCHWCryso5zU-w_ok3Oh5PHuyE2eanSemmbbV1PRLLSJxyxXk89Hu1mdvjsGxD8qKAFx3V/s1600/sleepy_bill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFc9_r9qxGlzEHMz0_bTA62lJrLD5npt0OHzVSrTl81bRrnUiLZT6GuCluPL1_Zk3wKw6PrmfCHWCryso5zU-w_ok3Oh5PHuyE2eanSemmbbV1PRLLSJxyxXk89Hu1mdvjsGxD8qKAFx3V/s1600/sleepy_bill.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Burns (left) and his friend Billy Maharg, a jovial former prizefighter, were interested, but couldn't find a source of that much cash (more than a million dollars in today's money) from their usual contacts in the gambling demi-monde. Several people pointed them to Arnold Rothstein. The two would-be fixers found Rothstein at a race track in the New York area, but could not speak to him directly. Through an intermediary, Rothstein found out what they wanted and arranged to meet them very publicly, <a href="https://erenow.net/biographies/rothstein-the-life-times-and-murder-of-the-criminal-genius/12.php">in the grill room of New York's Hotel Astor on September 27th</a>. By that time the White Sox had clinched the pennant and were looking forward to the World Series opener four days hence. Burns and Maharg made their pitch. Rothstein sized them up as two bohunks dumb enough to discuss fixing a World Series in front of their eating companions, including a famous private detective named Val O'Farrell. Rothstein loudly declined their offer, telling them it was both wrong and impossible, and making a noisy scene as he called Burns and Maharg "chiselers," "blackguards," and "skunks."<br />
<br clear="all" />
That sort of loud outburst was totally out of character for the measured, soft-spoken Rothstein, but he was starting his chess game with a feint. In front of a famous ex-cop and all the diners at the Astor, he had publicly established an alibi for something he had already decided to do: assure that the Series was fixed. He seems to have decided this long before all the pieces were in place, perhaps even before the players had consented to participate, perhaps even before the White Sox were established as the champs. Way back in August of 1919, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/The_New_York_Times_Sun__Sep_26__1920_Tennes.jpg">a famous gambler named Mont Tennes had told Charles Weeghman</a>, former owner and president of the Chicago Cubs, that Rothstein would fix the Series. The inside talk was that a coterie of St. Louis gamblers was waiting for either the White Sox or the National League's New York Giants to win a pennant because both teams were said to be filled with corruptible players. (The infamously corruptible Hal Chase was a Giant that year.) To Rothstein, it didn't matter which. He didn't even really follow baseball that closely. He was willing to stand in the doorway, waiting for his cheese.
<br />
<br />
At the same time that Rothstein was establishing his own alibi at the Hotel Astor meeting, he was also setting up the patsies who conveniently fell in his lap - two men whose intentions had been publicly established at that meeting, and therefore could take the blame if the fix ever became public.<br />
<br />
A third would soon appear.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifDkwsn595tgIk3zSKhQGhwS07JnSYdNboytF0J0fayjRfCA56Yp8lC3PeU6vZhdEMCAfophwOTy5Sn8iSzeAypQqpjqe9LqG0JCAUsoR4NmVu-HUC-cY4216H_-htV9UjKMskeejvf-MK/s1600/1951+Ringside+Attell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifDkwsn595tgIk3zSKhQGhwS07JnSYdNboytF0J0fayjRfCA56Yp8lC3PeU6vZhdEMCAfophwOTy5Sn8iSzeAypQqpjqe9LqG0JCAUsoR4NmVu-HUC-cY4216H_-htV9UjKMskeejvf-MK/s1600/1951+Ringside+Attell.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The naive twosome split up, having abandoned their scheme for lack of wherewithal. Maharg returned to his home in Philadelphia, but Burns hung around New York for a while and ran into Abe Attell (above), a former world champion prizefighter who had become Arnold Rothstein's occasional companion and bodyguard. Burns brought Attell up to speed on his meeting with Rothstein. Attell, seeing an opportunity and acting on his own, said he wanted to follow up on the matter. He re-entered the plot claiming that Rothstein had changed his mind and would finance the scheme through Attell himself. Although Rothstein had actually said nothing of the kind to Attell, Burns had no way to know that, so he bought into the claim and wired Maharg to meet him in Cincinnati for the first game of the Fall Classic. Completely convinced by Attell's story, Burns went back to the players with the promise of $100,000 in payoffs from Rothstein.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiljnJWYs-UY8Fm_n2WQUh9MIRfu9yLvIzfnsJDfOPZ9ty6pAP6aeEIYfD75prac_F7AMWpborxT7Hw7mkMBMbIEFe3eI0xUDcS7tINf-2Igz00E4NcFEbJ7ZVeHj-o4URxPoNhUf3atQe9/s1600/sport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiljnJWYs-UY8Fm_n2WQUh9MIRfu9yLvIzfnsJDfOPZ9ty6pAP6aeEIYfD75prac_F7AMWpborxT7Hw7mkMBMbIEFe3eI0xUDcS7tINf-2Igz00E4NcFEbJ7ZVeHj-o4URxPoNhUf3atQe9/s1600/sport.jpg" /></a></div>
Unbeknownst to Burns and Maharg, Chick Gandil had already arranged another, similar deal with his long-time friend Sport Sullivan (left), a noted Boston bookmaker, who was partnered up with a certain Nat Evans. That particular deal was the one actually backed by Rothstein, who saw in Sullivan and Evans two men he could trust (unlike Burns and Maharg). Sullivan had a good reputation as a man who stayed in the shadows and kept both his word and his counsel. Rothstein also saw in Sullivan a kindred spirit, a genius with calculations. Without even so much as a pencil, Sullivan could instantly compute combinations of odds and wager amounts that would assure him of a profit irrespective of the outcome of the events inspiring the bets. He had been a long-time fixture at Boston ballgames (<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/sport_sullivan-1906.pdf">1906</a>, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Sport_Sullivan-1908.pdf">1908</a>), actually running his bookmaking operation from the stands until he was <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/sport_sullivan-banned-1911.pdf">banned from the American League park in 1911</a>. Evans was a long-trusted junior partner in several of Rothstein's operations, and <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=6nSAnkWiy_IC&lpg=PA163&ots=nM4ABlVkcS&dq=johnny%20fay%20rothstein&pg=PA163#v=onepage&q=johnny%20fay%20rothstein&f=false">they stayed in contact throughout the series</a>. Sullivan and Evans were assigned to take $80,000 out west to pay for the fix, theoretically representing payoffs for the players at ten thousand per conspirator, but really to be used to accomplish whatever was necessary to make things happen, all the while keeping the deal quiet so the odds would not turn dramatically away from the favored Sox, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Mon__Sep_29__1919_odds.jpg">who were 13-20 favorites at the end of the regular season on September 29th</a>, just two days before the Series opener.<br />
<br />
(More details on Sullivan and Evans can be found in the <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/SABR-Black_Sox_Scandal_Cmte-2014-06.pdf">SABR Black Sox Committee newsletter, June, 2014</a>, pages 9-17.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnTQ0Ur3Ylm8wUrKA9WLwgIdW-txvKBKGQbQ4JXw8sP6cMz5TTfM7TlmulWJ7xysTotJ5P8LJPDM56gIzI5J-0P_ZPcg2O-vbBRpe8o86cki2S8gAYEPuKdORV2IwcKOcz2fBV02hLILge/s1600/Rothstein_profit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" width="70" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnTQ0Ur3Ylm8wUrKA9WLwgIdW-txvKBKGQbQ4JXw8sP6cMz5TTfM7TlmulWJ7xysTotJ5P8LJPDM56gIzI5J-0P_ZPcg2O-vbBRpe8o86cki2S8gAYEPuKdORV2IwcKOcz2fBV02hLILge/s200/Rothstein_profit.jpg" /></a></div>
They had not counted on Attell, however. When Sullivan and Evans started arranging their own action in Cincinnati, Attell, Burns and Maharg had already spilled too many of the beans, and the odds had dropped close to even money. (Just one day after the odds were 20-13 in favor of the White Sox, O'Leary's in Chicago had actually installed the Reds as 6-5 favorites.) <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/CavalierMagazine-Attell_speaks-Oct1961.pdf">Attell later admitted</a> that he had even gone so far as to tell some infamous heavy gamblers to avoid betting on the Sox. Rothstein, seeing the odds tumble in New York, must have been furious at Attell's bumbling interference, but a sure thing is sure at any odds, so A.R. got down some mammoth wagers on Cincinnati. Based on some hearsay and the admissions of the losing bettors, the general consensus was that Rothstein made at least $300,000 profit (article to the left from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Feb 17, 1929) on the Series in the final accounting, but he was so crafty that he had sprinkled in some impressively large bets on the White Sox. He knew those bets were losing propositions, but he had them well covered by Cincinnati bets, and once again he was playing chess. Those losses were simply The Rothstein Gambit: he would lose large semi-public wagers on the Sox to disguise much larger private bets on the Reds which would guarantee him vast profits on a sure thing.<br />
<br />
By the time Rothstein traveled to Chicago to testify before the Black Sox grand jury, he had credible witnesses whose testimony could prove that that Burns and Maharg originated the fix, then pitched it to Rothstein, only to have him vehemently, almost violently, reject their overtures in public. He had also created proof he could not possibly have believed the Sox were going to lose, because he had bet large sums on them. He publicly stated <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=A_46aa7xG0YC&lpg=PA182&ots=82F05DXAEb&dq=%22Attell%20did%20the%20fixing%22&pg=PA182#v=onepage&q=%22Attell%20did%20the%20fixing%22&f=false">"Attell did the fixing,"</a> through "cheap gamblers" Burns and Maharg, and he accused Attell of using the Rothstein name to give the scheme some credibility. Rothstein then repeated that same assertion to the grand jury. Just in case all of that was not enough to clear him, he had somehow become so friendly with two of the grand jurors in an unfamiliar city that <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=l2VttcOaWd8C&lpg=PT309&ots=iDX6It_CHN&dq=rothstein%20grand%20jurors%20hospitality&pg=PT309#v=onepage&q=rothstein%20grand%20jurors%20hospitality&f=false">they would later enjoy his hospitality on numerous visits to New York</a>.<br />
<br />
Checkmate.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">Disclaimer.</span>
<br />
<br />
When I recounted the gamblers' side of the Black Sox story above, I left the realm of pure fact and tried to construct a single narrative from among many possible scenarios. Most of the gamblers involved in the World Series fix never testified, and never talked publicly of their involvement. <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Burns_testimony.htm">Sleepy Bill Burns testified</a> in court under oath, as did Billy Maharg, and <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Tue__Sep_28__1920_%201-Maharg.jpg">Maharg also told his story to the papers</a>, but they were small-timers and go-betweens who were used as pawns. Abe Attell never testified in court, but allegedly confessed in a <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/CavalierMagazine-Attell_speaks-Oct1961.pdf">tell-all piece for Cavalier Magazine</a>, then backed down from the Cavalier story when <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Bleeding_Between_the_Lines_Attell_Interview.jpg">confronted with his lies by Eliot Asinof</a>, author of "Eight Men Out," as detailed in a later Asinof book, "Bleeding Between the Lines."<br />
<br />
The other principals remained behind the scenes. Whenever Rothstein was forced to address the issue, he simply repeated the same lies he had told the grand jury. A.R. was wise to trust <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/83d52aa2">Nat Evans</a>, who never told his side of the story at all, not in court nor to the press. Rothstein's trust in <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/423c7256">Sport Sullivan</a> also seems to have been well placed, because Sullivan lived until 1949, long after the statutes of limitations would have expired on his involvement, yet he never uttered a word about his role either during or after the trial. All we know about the actions of Sullivan and Evans is what Abe Attell has related, and he can be considered unreliable for two reasons: (1) Rothstein allegedly sent Sullivan and Evans to make the deal and cut Attell out of the action, then told the press and the grand jury that Attell fixed the series, so Attell was (understandably) bitter; (2) Attell didn't really have much contact with Sullivan and Evans, so his version of their role is based in the best case on hearsay and conjecture; in the worst case, on outright lies. Attell's version contradicts the Burns/Maharg version, and what Rothstein told the grand jury was obviously completely different from Attell's story, because The Big Bankroll walked away unindicted.<br />
<br />
We don't know, therefore, whether Sullivan and Evans were really carrying $80,000 of Rothstein's money, and if they were, we don't know precisely how much of that went to the players, or how much was ultimately received by each individual player. We know that Sullivan came up with the initial ten thousand to cover Eddie Cicotte's demand to be paid that amount in advance of his first start. We know that Attell handed ten thousand to Burns, who then took it to the players, but we don't know how that money was divided among the conspirators. We know by the players' own admissions that at some time during the Chicago homestand, either after game four or game five of the World Series, Joe Jackson, Lefty Williams and Happy Felsch received $5,000 apiece. That money did not come from Attell, so it must have come from Sullivan. Apart from that, nothing is certain. It is presumed those four players never received any additional money, and that Buck Weaver never received any at all. It is further presumed that Gandil, Risberg and McMullin did get some money, but nobody knows precisely when or how much. There has been a great deal of speculation about the money trail, but there is no hard evidence, and probably never will be because the trail is cold. The narrative above is my attempt to reconcile everyone's stories, based on my understanding of the case and those particular individuals. It should not be considered factual.<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">After the scandal.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
For about another decade, Arnold Rothstein continued managing his criminal enterprises and buying public officials, as well as providing loans and bail money to innumerable shady characters, always extending his own influence in the process. Powerful men on both sides of the law remained connected or indebted to him. He also continued his high-stakes gambling exploits, not because he needed it as a source of income, as in his younger days, but because it was his passion and he could not live without it. The infamy he gained from the 1919 World Series didn't seem to scare him away from fixing major sports events. He and Abe Attell were reportedly involved in many boxing dives and fixes, and they may even have fixed a heavyweight championship fight.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>In the <a href="http://boxrec.com/media/index.php/Jack_Dempsey_vs._Gene_Tunney_(1st_meeting)">first Dempsey-Tunney fight</a>, Rothstein was at ringside, having wagered $125,000 on Tunney, the challenger, a 4-to-1 underdog. Tunney pulled off the upset. Rumors spread that Rothstein's agents had paid one of Dempsey's bodyguards to poison the champ before the fight.</li>
<br />
<br />
<li>In <a href="http://boxrec.com/media/index.php/Gene_Tunney_vs._Jack_Dempsey_(2nd_meeting)">the Dempsey-Tunney rematch</a>, the so-called "long count" fight, Rothstein and Attell allegedly offered Tunney $1 million to throw the fight, but were rebuffed. Tunney won a unanimous decision.</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
Arnold Rothstein died young (46), murdered by a firearm. That seemed to be the fate of many gangland figures in the 1920s, but oddly enough, Rothstein was not killed because of his involvement with organized crime and its violent denizens. It was actually his love for gambling that did him in. He was shot over poker I.O.U.s<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">Arnold Rothstein in pop culture.
</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRH_8405tCgfxz8vhO-o3KKvkHHwvETQg0cIYhf3W1jIoGDGvoROcmOUe3Jv52gdtMu4jqoyV23pBl39tKZaOoZFUeisRxIU3cMaVnCZ8uN4EKy0Rfp4Vvte3CBX6fCVZWaXGudszsiUc/s1600/NowIllTell-1-small_zps6dbc0d1b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRH_8405tCgfxz8vhO-o3KKvkHHwvETQg0cIYhf3W1jIoGDGvoROcmOUe3Jv52gdtMu4jqoyV23pBl39tKZaOoZFUeisRxIU3cMaVnCZ8uN4EKy0Rfp4Vvte3CBX6fCVZWaXGudszsiUc/s200/NowIllTell-1-small_zps6dbc0d1b.jpg" /></a></div>
After Rothstein's death, his wife Carolyn wrote a tell-all called "Now I'll Tell," which is long out of print. As soon as it was released, it was immediately adapted into <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0025579/combined">an eponymous 1934 movie</a>, but with the names changed and the events fictionalized. Spencer Tracy played an ersatz Rothstein named Murray Golden. Although the film took its name from Mrs. Rothstein's book, some felt it seemed much closer to a failed stage play called <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Apr_15__1930_.jpg">Room 349</a>. The playwright (Mark Linder) thought so as well, and filed a plagiarism suit against the movie studio.<br />
<br />
<br clear="all" />
Mrs Rothstein's original written version was putatively non-fictional, but most reviewers and other Rothstein biographers call it a whitewash. Regarding the 1919 World Series, she denied any knowledge that Arnold took an active role in the fix, but she wrote:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
"If it were charged that Arnold had used his inside knowledge that they were going to be bribed to make winning bets, I would believe it. As a matter of fact, I do believe it. I might go further than that and say I know it."
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPtbtYHf6pEentUtkQpmCUQD5B7yZUwi32JKp-SvqUkNR7D_wB9XRZaAV8XmNko2nBee77OTAIjpS44Mzq0eG2JRt3P_jf43Irx-QcKiXTJKddBvvhRjxQ84B6iJM3v-pO5EnRarbehzlf/s1600/king_of_the_roaring_20%2527s_30x40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPtbtYHf6pEentUtkQpmCUQD5B7yZUwi32JKp-SvqUkNR7D_wB9XRZaAV8XmNko2nBee77OTAIjpS44Mzq0eG2JRt3P_jf43Irx-QcKiXTJKddBvvhRjxQ84B6iJM3v-pO5EnRarbehzlf/s200/king_of_the_roaring_20%2527s_30x40.jpg" /></a></div>
Leo Katcher's 1958 biography of Rothstein, "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Big-Bankroll-Times-Arnold-Rothstein/dp/0306805650">The Big Bankroll</a>," was also turned into a film, this time using Rothstein's real name. Unfortunately, the 1961 film virtually ignored the World Series. David Janssen starred in the movie, which was circulated both as "The Big Bankroll" and "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Roaring-Mickey-Rooney-Keenan-Janssen/dp/B002EAYE2Y/">King of the Roaring 20s</a>." (Tagline: "The hell-bent, jazz-crazed era and the man who ruled it all.")<br />
<br />
<a href="http://mikegrost.com/newman.htm#King">One reviewer</a> opined, "Rothstein is always quiet, well-spoken and beautifully dressed in very good suits. He looks and acts more like a corporate Vice-President of Finance than a stereotypical gangster." That may have been meant as a pan, but it's probably a reasonably accurate description of the real Rothstein as well.<br />
<br />
<br />
In more recent times, Rothstein has appeared as a character on HBO's Boardwalk Empire (played by Michael Stuhlbarg), in the 1991 film Mobsters (played by Salieri himself, F. Murray Abraham), and of course in the classic baseball film about the Black Sox, Eight Men Out (acted by Michael Lerner). In my opinion, it was Stuhlbarg who completely nailed it.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbKV8_vcKr5TUQRhqZKycGhEqN5VPoP2ZsYwNw28n_U7Igh5xVe_Huqp-ybnfl43gRwnM5udE9LuyzWNV9xfgRNOM6w82UvP3Cctcp_EWrZ9K-ic_ijU-xkA0ms2Q_6HAsysyM9TmVwtld/s1600/various_rothsteins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbKV8_vcKr5TUQRhqZKycGhEqN5VPoP2ZsYwNw28n_U7Igh5xVe_Huqp-ybnfl43gRwnM5udE9LuyzWNV9xfgRNOM6w82UvP3Cctcp_EWrZ9K-ic_ijU-xkA0ms2Q_6HAsysyM9TmVwtld/s1600/various_rothsteins.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
A.R. was also said to be the inspiration for many fictional characters, the two most famous being Nathan Detroit in "Guys and Dolls," and Meyer Wolfsheim in "The Great Gatsby." Although Wolfsheim is a lowbrow ethnic caricature, while the real Rothstein was quite refined, there is no doubt who the character is meant to represent. He is described as a Jewish "denizen of Broadway" and "a gambler. He’s the man who fixed the World’s Series back in 1919."
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Next, in Part IV: "Follow the Money"
</div>
Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-77174981801469907382016-04-25T03:43:00.002-07:002019-04-29T16:06:42.805-07:00The Black Sox, Part II: Shoeless Joe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurLYm4Gfd1KStoueyZRPscxj7p88ZQh5OFkufyJjWzoSYzCgQp_334Ec2SA9qmsZLaoeE2Dc5vVSvNVcDquQ9P44nLg9HW4WloEMAPzBP4bDcB0N1-8i23doF4jMrxSYNTpvc0dlZPlCA/s1600/1919sox.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurLYm4Gfd1KStoueyZRPscxj7p88ZQh5OFkufyJjWzoSYzCgQp_334Ec2SA9qmsZLaoeE2Dc5vVSvNVcDquQ9P44nLg9HW4WloEMAPzBP4bDcB0N1-8i23doF4jMrxSYNTpvc0dlZPlCA/s1600/1919sox.jpg" width="700" /></a><br />
<br />
The background on the legal issues behind the 1919 World Series scandal is covered in <a href="http://scoopyballpark.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-black-sox-part-i-bucky.html">part one of this series</a>, which focuses on third baseman Buck Weaver. The subject of this article is the team's left fielder and best hitter, Joseph Jefferson Jackson, possessor of one of baseball's most colorful nicknames, "Shoeless Joe." It was a Greenville, South Carolina sportswriter named <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Dec_11__1951_.jpg">Scoop Latimer who hung that tag on Joe</a>, based on an incident in his first year of organized ball. Jackson hated the moniker, which made him seem like a barefoot yokel, but it endured and remains eminently recognizable even to people who know nothing of baseball.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">The man</span><br />
<br />
<iframe align="right" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="210" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZtXVC1irZGA?rel=0" style="margin-left: 1em;" width="280"></iframe>If you believe that Joe Jackson was a brilliant baseball talent, you are in good company. Such undeniable contemporary authorities as Ty Cobb and Tris Speaker claimed that Joe was the greatest natural hitter in the game. The peerless <a href="http://www.baseball-almanac.com/quotes/quojcks.shtml">Babe Ruth said</a>, "I copied (Shoeless Joe) Jackson's style because I thought he was the greatest hitter I had ever seen." The video to the right shows how Joe's lunging, all-out swing was incorporated into the Babe's own style. Shoeless Joe also had the most powerful throwing arm of his day. In one major league charity exhibition, <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=B_FXGNCmieAC&lpg=PA74&ots=rSfdimF6d5&dq=shoeless%20joe%20throwing%20contest&pg=PA74#v=onepage&q=396%20feet&f=false">he easily won the throwing contest</a> with a heave of nearly 400 feet. (The trophy he won is shown below.)<br />
<br />
On the other hand, if you believe that success came to him effortlessly, you are better off not knowing about his two partial seasons playing for the Philadelphia Athletics. The big club called Jackson up in 1908, when he punished American League pitching for a mighty .130 average, and then again in 1909 when he raised the bar to .176. For the two years combined, he batted .150 with no extra base hits and a single walk, for an OPS of .321. That translates to an OPS+ of only 1, on a scale in which 100 is an average player.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Sq-IuvzxlcRoohnGV0h0mONOTKGP2wJ5Xls62KnZENgRf4F6risuQmO9Bi4gOzzm3n445G7jLWLs3ajBcdK7AlDxH_jsFToeUM6CeSowoFpAtYDqNDbbLfSwBGQwOUzEuXYWbKqQTyBb/s1600/Joe_jackson_trophies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Sq-IuvzxlcRoohnGV0h0mONOTKGP2wJ5Xls62KnZENgRf4F6risuQmO9Bi4gOzzm3n445G7jLWLs3ajBcdK7AlDxH_jsFToeUM6CeSowoFpAtYDqNDbbLfSwBGQwOUzEuXYWbKqQTyBb/s1600/Joe_jackson_trophies.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
Joe had the talent even then, but he was full of self-doubt. A country boy from a rural mill town in South Carolina, he was totally intimidated by the size of Philadelphia and the rude treatment he received at the hands of his teammates, northerners who ridiculed him for his lack of education, his uncouth manners, his suspicious nature, and his offbeat superstitions. (He once had an astounding day after a young girl gave him a hairpin, so he would never again take the field without a woman's hairpin in his hip pocket.) A typical group of ballplayers around the turn of the 20th century would never be confused with the Algonquin Round Table to begin with, but even by their minimal standards of sophistication, Joe was a rube. According to most sources, he had started working in the local textile mill when he was six or seven and never went to school at all. SABR's Black Sox committee reported (<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/SABR-Black_Sox_Scandal_Cmte-2012-12.pdf">December 2012 newsletter</a>, page nine) that Joe claimed in the 1940 census to have a third grade education, but if he lasted that long, he wasn't destined to be valedictorian because the adult Joe could neither read nor write.<br />
<br />
After the first game he played in Philly, he lasted only a few days in town before getting on a train back to South Carolina on the pretext of tending to a sick uncle. The team dragged him back soon enough, but he left again after a frustrating 0-for-9 double-header in September, this time without permission, and <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=LQjYldDrWq4C&lpg=PA54&ots=vA0sZ5q-zU&dq=joe%20jackson%20has%20been%20suspended%20by%20mack&pg=PA54#v=onepage&q=joe%20jackson%20has%20been%20suspended%20by%20mack&f=false">was then suspended from the team</a>. Contrary to a newspaper headline which claimed he would never play organized ball again after that suspension, Joe was back with the club again in spring training, although he never did adjust to life in Philadelphia, and he never did fit in with his teammates. He did admire manager <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Connie_Mack">Connie Mack</a>, but Mack liked intelligent ballplayers, so it was probably inevitable that a man called the Tall Tactician would eventually give up on a bumpkin called Shoeless Joe. In a rare strategic misstep, Mack lost one of the best three-season performances in the history of the game when he sold <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtZv1vosMGJuNor9EhI-_wWF38kG6JGi2FSNXilw6ylIal2ewR-5lcksxTpqp_j_Warw75ZoROkh3hdJQjBmEDCfQoUSNskmFrr1NzbPoJSTrgl-0dpKW8Sb9yQYLX0G5P6beGtnsKc3d/s1600/Joe-Cleveland.jpg">Joe to the Cleveland Naps</a>. Joe assimilated more easily with his new peers, among whom were many other players from the South, and his improved comfort level allowed his brilliant baseball talent to shine through. In his first three full seasons in Cleveland, Shoeless Joe hit the baseball as well as anyone ever has. The great <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/c/cobbty01.shtml">Ty Cobb</a> was then at the peak of his abilities, and a comparison of their performances from 1911 to 1913 indicates that Joe was approximately as good as Cobb.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>
<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br /></td>
<td valign="top">HITS</td>
<td valign="top">2B</td>
<td valign="top">3B</td>
<td valign="top">HR</td>
<td valign="top">BB</td>
<td valign="top">SB</td>
<td valign="top">K</td>
<td valign="top">BA</td>
<td valign="top">OBP</td>
<td valign="top">SLG</td>
<td valign="top">OPS</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Jackson</td>
<td valign="top">656</td>
<td valign="top">128</td>
<td valign="top">62</td>
<td valign="top">17</td>
<td valign="top">190</td>
<td valign="top">102</td>
<td valign="top">88</td>
<td valign="top">.393</td>
<td valign="top">.462</td>
<td valign="top">.574</td>
<td valign="top">1.036</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Cobb</td>
<td valign="top">641</td>
<td valign="top">95</td>
<td valign="top">63</td>
<td valign="top">19</td>
<td valign="top">145</td>
<td valign="top">195</td>
<td valign="top">104</td>
<td valign="top">.408</td>
<td valign="top">.463</td>
<td valign="top">.585</td>
<td valign="top">1.048</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65aQ4SzmfpAvI07NRLv1pDUX2nT4O3T1-k7dt4xRcbyWOvICRbi3UUf3x1i8nIASiMde-at2LX9EBfoXDmDBmPcqxDIKlvgCKvzpC9zIOW1AtuDfiUJkrhekgbcEfXHvTlG4epfDawNMW/s1600/cobb_and_joe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65aQ4SzmfpAvI07NRLv1pDUX2nT4O3T1-k7dt4xRcbyWOvICRbi3UUf3x1i8nIASiMde-at2LX9EBfoXDmDBmPcqxDIKlvgCKvzpC9zIOW1AtuDfiUJkrhekgbcEfXHvTlG4epfDawNMW/s1600/cobb_and_joe.jpg" width="160" /></a></div>
The only strong argument to prefer Cobb in that comparison is that he was a far better base stealer, and that was at least somewhat offset by the fact that Joe walked more, struck out less, and hit more doubles. That's how good Joe was then: about as good as Cobb at his best. Competing directly against his legendary teammate <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/l/lajoina01.shtml">Nap Lajoie</a> (who was so good the team was named after him) and other future Hall of Famers like Cobb, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/speaktr01.shtml">Tris Speaker</a>, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/c/collied01.shtml">Eddie Collins</a> and <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/b/bakerfr01.shtml">Home Run Baker</a>, Joe led the American League in hits in two of those three years, and led at various times in doubles, triples, on-base percentage, slugging average, and OPS. He is probably the once and future possessor of the record for the best batting average by an official rookie, because his astonishing .408 mark is not likely to be matched. Among players with 500 or more plate appearances, no subsequent rookie has come within fifty points of that mark.<br />
<br />
<center>
"When the legend becomes fact, print the legend"</center>
<br />
<br />
Because contemporary pop culture has apotheosized Shoeless Joe, it is not generally remarked that Joe was never really as good again as he was in that initial period, at least not until the introduction of the "lively ball era" in 1920. In those first three full seasons he was really as good as his legend, but in the subsequent five years, playing for Cleveland, then Chicago, he was plagued with problems. He injured his knee severely in an auto accident on July 7, 1915 and was out of the line-up for the next three weeks. He batted only .297 for Cleveland after the accident. Fearing a steep decline in his performance, and thus his monetary value, the club decided to sell him to Chicago that same summer, while his asset value was still high. He played the remainder of the 1915 season for the White Sox, but batted only .272 with his new club. His knee recovered in the off-season and his performance improved significantly the next year, but 1917 proved to be another disappointing season. The White Sox won the pennant that year, but Joe was hitting poorly because of an ankle injury sustained during spring training. His batting average dipped to .261 on August 11th. A late-season surge lifted him to .301, but he finished the season with only 13 stolen bases and 75 RBI. 1918 proved to be an even more miserable year, as he missed nearly the entire baseball season because of World War I. By the end of the five-year period from 1914 to 1918, Joe's lifetime average had dropped 40 points from its high water mark. He was still one of the game's strongest offensive forces, but he had dropped to a level achievable by mere mortals.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnVTQ-wT5KE9JZYA7Dtq1raFn0kZnzWIqd7AlHvMG6_3mXIxNd36i-AYFfYAUzSPBQrVCKfOqymu5G_HwAC0kzO9A0w1p8meMMonyW_qh0TcaFkTE8aO8RqsOXSrhxbQf_8j8peezyhq2Z/s1600/1917_sox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnVTQ-wT5KE9JZYA7Dtq1raFn0kZnzWIqd7AlHvMG6_3mXIxNd36i-AYFfYAUzSPBQrVCKfOqymu5G_HwAC0kzO9A0w1p8meMMonyW_qh0TcaFkTE8aO8RqsOXSrhxbQf_8j8peezyhq2Z/s1600/1917_sox.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<center>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>
The man in deep left field<br /><br />
In the uniform muddied at the knees<br /><br />
With the shadows of a century now behind him<br /><br />
Isn't who you think it is.<br /><br />
For Shoeless Joe is gone, long gone<br /><br />
With a long yellow grassblade between his teeth<br /><br />
And a lucky hairpin in his hip pocket.<br /><br /><br />
</i>
Nelson Algren ... Ballet for Opening Day (slightly paraphrased)
</span></center>
<br clear="all" />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">The scandal</span><br />
<br />
The answers to three questions determine the relative guilt or innocence of each of the Black Sox.
<br />
<ol>
<li>Did he conspire to commit a criminal act?
</li>
<li>Did he conspire to throw the World Series?
</li>
<li>Did he actually do anything to throw the Series?
</li>
</ol>
<br />
<br />
The answer to the first question about criminal conspiracy is a resounding "no" for all of them, including Joe. Even if every accusation against them had been true, they were not guilty of a crime, based on the judge's instructions to the jury in the Black Sox criminal trial.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
"The State must prove that it was the intent of the ballplayers and the gamblers charged with conspiracy to defraud the public and others, and not merely to throw games."
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
Throwing the World Series was not a crime in 1919, and neither therefore was conspiring to do so. Legally, the players were simply getting paid to lose baseball games, just as Comiskey had paid them to win. In agreeing to do so, they may have failed to honor their contracts with Comiskey, but contractual disputes are a matter for the civil, not criminal courts. The players were brought to trial on contrived charges which were virtually impossible to prove beyond a reasonable doubt. There was no convincing evidence that they intended to defraud bettors, their boss Charles Comiskey, or their guileless teammates. In fact, the prosecution made no mention of "conspiracy to defraud" at any time during their case, thus making the jury's decision a simple and obvious matter.
<br />
<br />
Writing in the February 1, 1988 edition of the American Bar Association Journal, James Kirby concluded (<a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=vqbROoIZmJsC&lpg=PA68&ots=uEamJ2GzpD&dq=If%20the%20intent%20to%20throw%20games%20plus%20taking%20money%20plus%20agreeing%20to%20lose%20and%20actually%20losing%20were%20not%20enough%2C%20the%20prosecution%20never%20had%20a%20chance.%20The%20law%20was%20simply%20inadequate%20for%20the%20Black%20Sox%20offenses%2C%20even%20if%20the%20worst%20about%20them%20is%20believed.&pg=PA68#v=onepage&q=%22intent%20to%20throw%20games%22&f=false">page 68</a>):<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
"If the intent to throw games plus taking money plus agreeing to lose and actually losing were not enough, the prosecution never had a chance. The law was simply inadequate for the Black Sox' offenses, even if the worst about them is believed."<br />
<br /></blockquote>
A somewhat more detailed overview of the legal niceties may be found in <a href="http://scoopyballpark.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-black-sox-part-i-bucky.html">Part I</a> of this series. A truly detailed and painstakingly assembled overview is presented in "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Black-Sox-Courtroom-Criminal-Litigation/dp/0786472685">Black Sox in the Courtroom</a>" by William F. Lamb, a former prosecutor whose 2013 book is must reading for anyone interested in the legal aspects of the Black Sox scandal.<br />
<br />
The answer to the question about whether Joe deliberately gave less than his best effort on the field is indeterminate. Modern pop culture mythology has exonerated Jackson, but the evidence is not that clear, especially when it involves his defensive play. Much of the modern perception of Joe's innocence is expressed in oft-repeated phrases based on his sympathetic portrayals in works of fiction, and the fact that Joe himself contributed as much as anyone to his own legend-building. <a href="http://www.blackbetsy.com/theTruth2.html">In a 1949 interview</a>, he said:<br />
<br />
"I handled thirty balls in the outfield and never made an error or allowed a man to take an extra base. I threw out five men at home and could have had three others, if bad cutoffs hadn't been made."
<br />
<br />
Joe apparently had himself confused with Superman. <a href="http://www.baseball-almanac.com/players/playerpost.php?p=jacksjo01&ps=ws">He actually had</a> sixteen put-outs, threw out one batter at home, allowed at least one runner to take an extra base on him (Morrie Rath in game one), and dropped a fly ball. He was not charged with an error in the World Series only because the official scorer was generous. When Jackson dropped a ball in game eight, the scorer gave Edd Roush a double on the hit off Joe's glove. Joe also made a suspicious play in game four. Baseball superstar Tris Speaker, generally considered the best defensive outfielder in history before <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/m/mayswi01.shtml">Willie Mays</a> come along, covered the 1919 World Series as a writer for the Cleveland Plain Dealer and questioned Jackson's shallow positioning that allowed <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/n/nealegr01.shtml">Greasy Neale</a>'s fly ball in the fifth inning of that game to sail over his head for a double. Speaker's fellow Cleveland correspondent, sportswriter Harry Edwards, was not so gentle in his criticism. In the October 5th, 1919 edition of the Plain Dealer, he said that "Jackson played Neale’s fly to left like an old lady." (A summary of the Speaker and Edwards comments is in the <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/SABR-Black_Sox_Scandal_Cmte-2015-06.pdf">SABR Black Sox Scandal Newsletter, June, 2015 edition, pages 3-6.</a>)<br />
<br />
Other analysts have found even more of Joe's plays suspicious. <a href="http://wahoosam.net/2016/04/05/how-joe-jackson-threw-the-world-series/">Dan Holmes of the Wahoo Sam baseball blog contends</a>:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
"In the fourth inning of Game One, Jackson fielded a ball hit to the base of the wall in left-center field. The ball was played into a triple, in part due to his casual fielding. Two runs scored. The next batter hit a ball to left field for a hit, which Jackson gathered and threw late to the infield, allowing the runner (<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/r/rathmo01.shtml">Morrie Rath</a>) to reach second. Eddie Collins later testified that he found the play puzzling because Jackson rarely made such mistakes. The following batter singled, scoring Rath."
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
One may not assume that there was any dishonesty involved in any of the plays cited above. Even the greatest players drop balls and make bad throws. They do so far less often than you or I would, but they do so, even in critical moments, because there is no such thing as baseball perfection. Willie Mays made more than a hundred errors in his career, as did <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/d/dimagjo01.shtml">Joe DiMaggio</a>, Tris Speaker and Shoeless Joe Jackson himself. But if Joe Jackson's fielding in the 1919 World Series provides no definitive evidence of malfeasance, neither can it exonerate him, as Joe and many others have claimed.<br />
<br />
Nor is it possible to assume that Joe's exaggerated description of his play, as recalled three decades after the fact, is evidence of a cover-up. As an illiterate man in an age before television, Joe could rely only on his memory to reconstruct the past. He may have repressed the memories he regretted, thus genuinely believing his preferred version of those events. Even those of us with access to written or recorded evidence sometimes do that.<br />
<br />
As far as Joe's batting performance in the World Series goes, his apologists note that <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/postseason/1919_WS.shtml">Joe batted .375 in the 1919 World Series</a>. That fact alone provides no evidence that he did his best at the plate. To claim so is to ignore the oft-misleading impact of small sample sizes. In comparison to the eight games of the World Series, consider his first eight games of the regular season. He went 17-for-34. That means he could have intentionally struck out in four of those 17 at bats when he actually got hits, and the resulting 13-for-34 would still have left him with a .382 batting average, even at that high level of cheating! Or consider the first 14 games of July, when he went an unearthly 29-for-56. He could have tanked eight of the at bats when he actually got hits, and his batting average for that period would still have been .375. Because his great ability gave him the opportunity to hit .500 or better in a sample size of 8 or even 14 games, his .375 average in the Series does not prove that he was doing his best. Nor does it prove that he slacked off. Given the small sample size of eight games, that performance proves nothing.<br />
<br />
One may argue quite fairly that Joe performed far below his abilities at the crucial moments in the Series. It's not clear whether the Sox were playing to win in the last three games, but they were almost certainly trying to lose the first five. They did lose the four started by conspirators Cicotte and Williams, and Jackson himself told the Chicago press that they tried to lose the other one, but failed because Dickey Kerr stubbornly refused to allow a run!<br />
<br />
Joe came to bat six times with runners in scoring position in those five games.
<ul>
<li>Game one: Sixth inning. One out. Collins on second, Weaver on first. Joe grounded out to first base. Felsch closed out the inning with a weak fly ball.</li><br />
<li>Game two: Sixth inning. One out. Buck Weaver on second with a double. Joe struck out looking. Felsch then closed out the inning with a fly ball.</li><br />
<li>Game three: Third inning. None out. Collins on second, Weaver on first. Joe popped up a bunt. This could easily have been a double or even a triple play with the runners going, but they got back in time. Although Joe only delivered one out, Felsch proved up to the task of killing the rally by grounding into a double play. Also worthy of mention was the sixth inning in game three, when Jackson and Felsch again worked their magic. Jackson singled to lead off the inning, then was promptly caught stealing, whereupon Felsch walked and was also out stealing! On base percentage: 1.000. Base runners: none. Joe apparently wasn't kidding when he said they tried to throw this game!</li><br />
<li>Game four: Third inning. Two out. Collins on second. Joe hit what should have been the inning-ending grounder to second, but Morrie Rath inconveniently bobbled it, leaving runners on first and third, and putting pressure on Happy Felsch to deliver the third out, which he promptly did with a grounder of his own.</li><br />
<li>Game five: First inning. One out. Leibold on third, Weaver on first. With just a single out, it was difficult for Joe to avoid batting in a run this time. After Joe had struck out in games two and four, another K would have raised a lot of eyebrows, and putting wood on the ball was risky because Leibold might have scored on a grounder, a bunt, or a fly ball. Amazingly, Joe pulled off the one form of contact that couldn't possibly score a run: he hit an infield pop-up. That provided the second out, thus allowing Felsch many options to deliver the third out without causing a run to score.</li><br />
<li>Game five again: Ninth inning. Two out. Weaver on third with a triple. With two outs, Joe needed no help from Felsch this time. He grounded out to end the game.</li><br />
</ul>
Joe had six at bats with runners in scoring position, during which one of the best hitters in the history of the game hit no balls out of the infield. It's not possible to say conclusively that any of that was deliberate, because even the best hitters can fail when trying their hardest, but my best guess is that both Felsch and Jackson earned their pay-offs.<br />
<br />
There was another suspicious oddity in Joe's performance during those five games. In the space of nine plate appearances from game two to game four, Joe struck out twice. That may not seem suspicious to you if you follow the world of 21st century baseball, but 1919 was part of a very different era, one in which strike outs were rare in general, and were especially rare when Joe was at the plate. He was the very best in the game at avoiding them. Of all the hitters in baseball who qualified for the 1919 leadership in rate stats, Joe struck out the fewest times, as well as the least frequently. During the regular season he struck out only ten times in 599 trips to the plate. That represents a probability per at bat of .0167. Given that probability of an event occurring, the likelihood that such an event will occur twice or more in nine occasions is less than 1%. The odds were about 100-1 against that being a sample of Joe's honest play. It is not possible to calculate the specific odds against Joe taking a called third strike with a runner in scoring position, as he did in game two, because the 1919 data are insufficient to create that calculation. At the current level of knowledge, it is not known how often he took a called third strike in any situation, but I'm guessing that a bookie not "in the know" about the fix would have given you close to 100-to-1 odds if you had wanted to bet on a called third strike before Joe stepped in, given that the odds established by the season were 59-1 against any strikeout at all!<br />
<br />
The situational statistics cannot establish anything more than deep suspicion. Joe's own words, however, do serve to convict him of sub-par play. In chambers, before testifying to the grand jury, Jackson told Judge McDonald that "he had played hard, but that he could have played harder." That judge testified to this under oath at the subsequent criminal trial. (<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/The_New_York_Times_Tue__Jul_26__1921_Jackson_could_have_played_harder.jpg">New York Times, July 26, 1921</a>.) In elaborating on the same conversation during his testimony at Jackson's back-pay suit in 1924, <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=qLXytSDc5YIC&lpg=PA178&ots=UfW2_MOEO5&dq=he%20had%20made%20no%20misplays%20that%20could%20be%20noticed%20by%20the%20ordinary%20person&pg=PA178#v=onepage&q=he%20had%20made%20no%20misplays%20that%20could%20be%20noticed%20by%20the%20ordinary%20person&f=false">Judge McDonald testified</a> that Jackson said "he had made no misplays that could be noticed by the ordinary person, but that he did not play his best." On the day of his grand jury appearance, he had a few drinks, talked to the judge in chambers, gave his grand jury testimony, then had many more drinks with the court's bailiffs. By that evening, Joe's tongue was far too loose when <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Wed__Sep_29__1920_kerr_game.jpg">he talked to the Chicago press, including the Chicago Tribune</a>. He not only repeated many of the details he had told the grand jury, but he added:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
"And I'm giving you a tip. A lot of these sporting writers that have been roasting me have been talking about the third game of the World's Series being square. Let me tell you something. <i><b>The eight of us did our best to kick it</b></i> and little Dick Kerr won the game by his pitching. Because he won it, these gamblers double crossed us for double crossing them." (Emphasis mine)
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
The remaining key question involves whether Joe was part of the conspiracy to throw the World Series. The answer is an unequivocal "yes." Whether or not he played his best, his part in the conspiracy is established by <a href="http://www.blackbetsy.com/jjtestimony1920.pdf">his own testimony to the grand jury</a>. If throwing the World Series had been a crime at the time, he would most certainly have been guilty of conspiring to do so.<br />
<br />
Here's what he admitted in his testimony:
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>His teammate Chick Gandil offered him ten thousand dollars to help throw the World Series, and he refused - until Gandil upped the offer to $20,000, at which point he agreed. The amount was to be paid in installments after each game.
</li>
<br />
<li>After game one of the series, not having seen a penny of the promised money, he asked Gandil, "What is the trouble?"
</li>
<br />
<li>Then, after "we went ahead and threw the second game, we went after him (Gandil) again."
</li>
<br />
<li>After the third game, still having received no cash, he told Gandil “Somebody is getting a nice little jazz, everybody is crossed.” Gandil told him that the gamblers had double-crossed the players.
</li>
<br />
<li>Finally, before the return trip to Cincinnati for game six, teammate/roommate Lefty Williams handed Joe an envelope containing five thousand dollars. Jackson had expected more by this time, so he asked Lefty "what the hell had come off here," and was again told they had been double crossed. Jackson could only speculate whether he had been cheated by the gamblers, by Chick Gandil, or even by his friend Lefty Williams. He suspected any or all of them.
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
Joe later changed his story, making himself seem innocent, thus hoping to bolster his claim for back pay in a subsequent civil suit which was tried in Milwaukee in 1924. Jackson delivered the second version of his participation when he had been deposed on April 9, 1923, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/The_Evening_Tribune_Mon__Apr_23__1923_.jpg">as reported on April 23rd in a syndicated column by Frank Menke</a>. In that version, he knew nothing at all of the fix until two or three days after the Series ended, when Lefty Williams threw $5,000 at his feet and told him that the player-conspirators had convinced the gamblers that they could pull off a fix by assuring them that Joe was in on it. Hearing this, an outraged and "dumbfounded" Jackson supposedly went to Comiskey's office the very next day to tell him what had happened - and was rebuffed by Comiskey's secretary. This story made no sense since Williams could not have seen Joe two or three days after the Series finished. Joe and his wife had left for Savannah on the evening after the final game. The story was not only logistically impossible, but it contradicted Jackson's previous account, the accounts of his teammates, and even <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/Katie_Jackson.jpg">the account of Jackson's own wife</a>!<br />
<br />
His story changed again during <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/jackson_testimony_civil_trial.jpg">the civil court proceedings</a>. It appears that somebody had informed him that the account in his deposition was logistically impossible, so he tightened the time line in the third version of the story. This time he asserted that Williams handed him the money after the final game of the series and he visited Comiskey the next day, thus allowing his story to reconcile with the timing of his train trip to Savannah.<br />
<br />
Jackson testified to the new story under oath in his civil suit, which gave him a sticky perjury problem, since he had previously told two different, contradictory stories under oath in the grand jury proceedings and the deposition. The time-line problem could have been explained away by a memory lapse, but the grand jury testimony was another matter. Given the discrepancies between his testimony in the civil suit and his testimony before the grand jury, he logically had to have perjured himself one time or the other. Joe chose a bizarre strategy to work his way out of this dilemma. When he was cross-examined about the contents of his grand jury testimony in 1920, he did not attempt to blame coercion or a faulty memory. In fact, he made no attempt to reconcile the differences between his two versions of the narrative. He simply denied saying everything he had said to the grand jury, offering statements like, "I didn't make that answer." When confronted with the particulars of his testimony, he denied everything line-by-line, more than a hundred times under oath. He seemed to be unaware that the court record consisted of more than just some typed pages. The judge, the court stenographers and the grand jurors were all still alive and available to verify that the transcript was an accurate account of what Joe had actually said. Some of them were called to provide that testimony, thus leaving Joe with more that a hundred instances of perjury which could be proved beyond a reasonable doubt. In fact, beyond any doubt.<br />
<br />
The excerpt below comes from "Black Sox in the Courtroom" by William F. Lamb:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh65Lcl9MOlMynIim7VBeURci4Od_0cPlfoMMtHOw9BtxElN0pO9LdcuCxZsMTmxfhievqANwwzb37nw18WLaiVRsCCGspBJz_Ae7D6cvhvl9lDbvSGA804dWptjO7O0nzjU81AaVns46H_/s1600/courtroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: center; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh65Lcl9MOlMynIim7VBeURci4Od_0cPlfoMMtHOw9BtxElN0pO9LdcuCxZsMTmxfhievqANwwzb37nw18WLaiVRsCCGspBJz_Ae7D6cvhvl9lDbvSGA804dWptjO7O0nzjU81AaVns46H_/s1600/courtroom.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The presiding judge became so frustrated with the entire proceeding that he sent the jury out of the room and had Joe thrown into a jail cell, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4wjz_IcUffFiT5R72obcxzh2d3yaVZf5m9r2Y9L0S02SdoGEW3tt6WqZaNbTLxEQW1Q9cmCc8vjyiN-pFcESEaSl-haCQTRtTIhGe6Xuh1fANDxt5Vq-znbE4Qxkja6FpSyM5N_cYscs/s1600/The_News_Palladium_Fri__Feb_15__1924_Jackson_Jailed_Perjury.jpg">arrested for perjury in his own back-pay suit</a>!<br />
<br />
There was one time when Joe called Commissioner Landis to ask for a chance to explain his position. Landis told sportswriter Frank O'Neill: "Jackson phoned and asked whether I would give him a fair hearing. I said I give every man a fair hearing. Jackson said, 'Thanks, Judge. Do you know that those gamblers never paid all they owed me?'" (Rothstein, David Petrusza, p. 366) The hearing ended there.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">After the scandal:</span><br />
<br />
Joe was banned from organized baseball after the criminal trial, but continued to play ball for many years in textile league, sandlot and semi-pro contests. He played for the Greenville Spinners in 1932, more than a decade after his banishment from the big show. There he still hit the ball hard and regaled the locals with stories of the old days, including <a href="http://www.shoelessjoejackson.com/about/viewheadline.php?id=796">the origin of his legendary dark bat</a>. Although aging and gray, Joe still appeared to be in playing condition, and was still wielding Black Betsy, as pictured <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNwlSzbVb0ulG40QVM8WNXMy6fQD9J-QUbyXlcP8OdgAcGlCWnEZTXwt7NhoT8NTJgGspSOOFFVc9pLDfCc5QjeqIL-zoexD1ovvohDcpgZuFnmBwI0hDKvYfZATQ4-6fhSDIyc8yQnyG/s1600/Jackson-Greenville_Spinners-1932.jpg">here</a>.<br />
<br />
When he wasn't playing ball or coaching the local kids, he and his wife ran a successful dry cleaning business in Savannah, then a liquor store in Greenville, South Carolina. By all accounts, he could still hit the ball authoritatively for the Woodside Mill team until he was fifty, even as his fielding declined under the weight of some seventy additional pounds. He told The Sporting News in 1942 (<a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/tsn-1941-1.jpg">cover story</a>, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/tsn-1941-2.jpg">story continued</a>) that his weight had climbed as high as 254 pounds, compared to 170 at the start of his career in the minors, and a major league playing weight of 186. The images below show him at the beginning and end of his adult playing days.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3U1yNn-ceiVsxoSaa7IccQiCEF4eAstq8MoI9gQ9Eq7uF_VeGh0M79xDO6RRsH21jT4U3HzBabRYN6oxLT4pmIRJRLzsnTz4nam1PdCUQVh0aoeH4Y-Sk51KgTwnoBnzOTUnvIGFbP6Ga/s1600/joe-greenville-1908-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3U1yNn-ceiVsxoSaa7IccQiCEF4eAstq8MoI9gQ9Eq7uF_VeGh0M79xDO6RRsH21jT4U3HzBabRYN6oxLT4pmIRJRLzsnTz4nam1PdCUQVh0aoeH4Y-Sk51KgTwnoBnzOTUnvIGFbP6Ga/s1600/joe-greenville-1908-1.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The extra weight contributed to health problems and Joe had several minor heart attacks over the years. The fatal one came on December 5, 1951 in Greenville, where <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/The_Index_Journal_Thu__Dec_6__1951_.jpg">his obituary</a> mentioned that he was widely loved in the community.
<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
<center>
My own take.</center>
<br />
<br />
Shoeless Joe Jackson did not instigate or design the World Series fix with the gamblers. Two of his teammates, Cicotte and Gandil, did that. He did not attend the strategy meetings, meet with the gamblers, or join the inner circle like Gandil's henchmen, Risberg and McMullin. He didn't stumble his way through the World Series like Risberg, who batted .080 and made four errors, or Lefty Williams, who became (and remains) the only man to lose three starts in a single World Series by posting a 6.61 ERA, a preposterous figure in the deadball era.<br />
<br />
Shoeless Joe was roped into the conspiracy by Gandil. Before his grand jury testimony, he was hoodwinked out of his right to a lawyer by Alfred Austrian (Comiskey's lawyer). He was almost certainly tricked into thinking he was testifying before the grand jury with immunity from prosecution. He was probably not smart enough to know that his lies under oath represented to society a very different level of deception from simply telling a few old war stories and fish tales. He became beloved in South Carolina, and was worshipped by the local kids, for whom Joe always found time.<br />
<br />
Those are all mitigating circumstances, but make no mistake about it: he was corrupt. He agreed to take the money and then he kept asking where it was. He originally tried to make amends on grand jury day by telling the truth, but he changed his mind after that day and started lying about it. He lied under oath more than a hundred times at his civil trial, and then he continued to tell the same lies all of his life. In 1941, in reference to his grand jury testimony, <a href="http://povichcenter.org/povich-rewind-shoeless-joe-jackson/">he told Shirley Povich</a> of the Washington Post, "There never was any confession by me. That was trumped up by the court lawyers." As time went on, the lies became bigger, until he was finally presenting himself as the man who gallantly threw out five runners at the plate while totally unaware of any skullduggery until after the World Series had ended, at which point he marched into Comiskey's lair and insisted on cleaning up the mess.<br />
<br />
Should we forget what he did, and all the lies he told about it, because he was a great player who wasn't smart enough to know any better? I don't buy it. I don't buy it for Pete Rose, and I don't buy it for Joe Jackson.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGMkrx_t9_waVbQG862p2Jcq3B0hGsdU2E4ReHBCOoxMVS41v4ftzC9IHESpow30JNVHQU3uTMUktSnxwBX3sx8pCdyKGtrHeM-lB85_mGkUeWiC6p50Iw7T8ahsORH95d6Xr7s3nkghHt/s1600/liquorstore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGMkrx_t9_waVbQG862p2Jcq3B0hGsdU2E4ReHBCOoxMVS41v4ftzC9IHESpow30JNVHQU3uTMUktSnxwBX3sx8pCdyKGtrHeM-lB85_mGkUeWiC6p50Iw7T8ahsORH95d6Xr7s3nkghHt/s1600/liquorstore.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Should he be in the Hall of Fame? I don't know. I can't answer that unless you tell me what the Hall of Fame is for. If it exists only to enshrine the game's greatest performances on the field, then Shoeless Joe absolutely belongs there. The adjusted OPS+ for his career <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/leaders/onbase_plus_slugging_plus_career.shtml">is the seventh highest in history</a>. From 1911 to 1913 he was as good as anyone ever was. The man hit .408 as a rookie, for heaven's sake.<br />
<br />
On the other hand, if the Hall exists to enshrine those who played well and honorably, who graced America's ballfields and left the game better in their wake, then I would not vote to include a man who agreed to take money to throw a World Series. I know there are other scoundrels already in the Hall, but that is an unpersuasive argument to add one more. If I am asked to cast a vote for Fictional Shoeless Joe, that sympathetic, thoughtful, right-handed batter played by Ray Liotta in Field of Dreams, I'm all in, but the real man on the right leaves a sour taste in my mouth.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Next, in part III: Arnold Rothstein
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-3078560965128560012016-04-22T23:26:00.002-07:002019-03-07T18:33:27.006-08:00The Black Sox, Part I: Bucky<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvz8DJDmU0bOJkCY_454qZpJzZa-AW_Xv1fhbzLxZByZRIPmjvdtb7rMZwGF74XuRF9jBVdaUjBMEslff7ueVexnedaRwLNJUs7QFjROWYAV4uPSYAc4e8OGCtA38jYIMNotD4w20xCHw/s1600/1919_white_sox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvz8DJDmU0bOJkCY_454qZpJzZa-AW_Xv1fhbzLxZByZRIPmjvdtb7rMZwGF74XuRF9jBVdaUjBMEslff7ueVexnedaRwLNJUs7QFjROWYAV4uPSYAc4e8OGCtA38jYIMNotD4w20xCHw/s1600/1919_white_sox.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Background: Nine Men Out<br />
<br />
In 1921, eight of the Chicago White Sox and one player from the St. Louis Browns were permanently expelled from organized baseball for corrupt activities related to Chicago's defeat in the 1919 World Series. Two of the banned players, Buck Weaver of the Sox and <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/eded419b">Joe Gedeon</a> of the Browns, had neither taken any bribes nor done anything directly to affect the results of any games, but were included in the baseball commissioner's housecleaning because they had found out what had been planned by various gamblers and the so-called Black Sox, but failed to come forward immediately to report what they knew.<br />
<br />
At the time that <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kenesaw_Mountain_Landis">Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis</a> issued his decisions to ban the nine men, he was almost universally praised for taking bold and long-overdue action on baseball's gambling problem, which had been whitewashed for years, much to the dismay of many fans and baseball writers who were well aware of the cozy and inappropriate relationship which then existed between players and gamblers. As <a href="http://baseballhistorian.blogspot.com/2012/03/chick-gandils-side-of-story.html">Chick Gandil, one of the accused players pointed out</a>, decades after the scandal, "Where a baseball player would run a mile these days to avoid a gambler, we mixed freely. Players often bet. After the games, they would sit in lobbies and bars with gamblers, gabbing away." Landis ended that with strong, decisive action.<br />
<br />
As time has passed, however, <a href="http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/blacksox/commissionerdec.html">Landis's blanket ukase</a>, which lumped all the Black Sox together in equal degrees of punishment, has been increasingly criticized because the players' behavior did not exhibit equal degrees of guilt. With some additional objectivity gained by a century of detachment from the outrage of the time, and having evolved a different sense of fairness, modern analysts are rankled by Landis's lack of subtlety in failing to distinguish between the corruptors and the corrupted, between those who wove the web of conspiracy and those merely trapped in it. Many modern fans also wonder how Landis could have banned the players at all, since they were found "not guilty" of all charges by a jury.<br />
<br />
In particular, elements of modern pop culture have created a great deal of empathy for two of the Black Sox, third baseman <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/5b8a23e7">Buck Weaver</a> and the team's superstar, left fielder <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/7afaa6b2">"Shoeless" Joe Jackson</a>. Jackson was treated sympathetically in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/W._P._Kinsella">W.P. Kinsella</a>'s sentimental novel, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Shoeless-Joe-W-P-Kinsella/dp/0395957737">"Shoeless Joe,"</a> and the movie made from it, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Field-Dreams-Kevin-Costner/dp/B0068FZ0GK/ref=sr_1_2?s=movies-tv&ie=UTF8&qid=1461359548&sr=1-2&keywords=field+of+dreams">"Field of Dreams,"</a> both of which forgave Joe his trespasses, such as they were. That story granted Jackson a second chance quite literally, and in so doing entreated its audience to grant one metaphorically. The most popular account of the Black Sox scandal, a putatively non-fictional book entitled <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Eight-Men-Out-Black-World/dp/0805065377/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461359657&sr=1-1&keywords=eight+men+out">"Eight Men Out,"</a> as well as <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Eight-Men-Out-20th-Anniversary/dp/B0010YSD90/ref=sr_1_2?s=movies-tv&ie=UTF8&qid=1461359602&sr=1-2&keywords=eight+men+out">its eponymous movie adaptation</a>, made a strong case that Buck Weaver was unjustly punished, since his sentence was as harsh as the one imposed upon the players who organized the fix, took the bribes, and threw the games, although Weaver took no money and played firecely and unwaveringly to win. It is from the compelling narrative of that book and screenplay by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eliot_Asinof">Eliot Asinof</a> (pronounced AY-zin-off) that most modern fans have formed their impression of the events and personalities that shaped the 1919 World Series fix.<br />
<br />
But the established notions of popular culture are inevitably oversimplifications which lose the details and nuances of any situation, especially one as complex as this case, which is filled with unreliable narrators, contradictory accounts, widely accepted myths, evidence tampering, cover-ups, participants who changed their stories over time, and various mysteries which will probably remain unsolved because the keys to their solutions have been lost in a bubbling lather of passing time. Very little about the players' guilt can be established with certainty, but that does not free modern students from trying to come as close as possible to the objective truth.<br />
<br />
In order to establish accurate gradations of culpability among the players, it's important to establish exactly what the Black Sox were accused of. There are three separate questions which should be evaluated for each individual player:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>Did he conspire to commit a criminal act?
</li>
<li>Did he conspire to throw the World Series?
</li>
<li>Did he actually do anything to throw the Series?
</li>
</ol>
<br />
<br />
At a casual first glance, there seems to be no meaningful difference between #1 and #2, but separating them is no mere pettifoggery. It's an extremely critical distinction, because in 1919 there was no Illinois law specifically related to deliberate underperforming in a public sporting event. While the players who threw a game at that time might be in violation of tacit or explicit aspects of their contracts, that is not a matter for the criminal courts. The resolution of alleged contract violations belongs in civil litigation. In simplest terms, it was not a crime for them to throw the World Series. Since tanking the Series was not a criminal act, neither could it be a crime to conspire to do so, because conspiring to commit an act is only illegal if the act itself is illegal. It is illegal for your family to conspire to kill your rich Uncle Dwight, but it is certainly not illegal to conspire to throw him a surprise birthday party.<br />
<br />
(Unless, I suppose, the surprise is designed to give him a fatal heart attack.) <br />
<br />
We can begin with question #1, "Did he conspire to commit a criminal act?" because it is the easiest to answer in this case. The answer is a simple blanket assertion that applies to all nine men, based on the 1921 trial of the Black Sox: no. The prosecution's actual specific charges seem in retrospect to be (interpreted kindly) quixotic, or even (less kindly) desperate. Absent any spin, it's fair to say the charges have a contrived ring to them. The defendants were accused of conspiring to defraud some of the innocent White Sox of the difference between the winners' and losers' share of the World Series, for example, and they were originally accused of conspiring to defraud Charles K. Nims, an obscure gambler who had bet $250 on the Sox. The prosecutors wisely dropped the latter charge before the trial began. They did so for many reasons, not the least of which was that none of the Black Sox even had any idea who that man was, thus making it impossible for the prosecution to convince a jury that the players were conspiring to defraud him. <br />
<br />
The defendants were found not guilty of all charges by the jury, based on the judge's explicit instructions, which were as follows:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
"The State must prove that it was the intent of the ballplayers and the gamblers charged with conspiracy to defraud the public and others, and not merely to throw games."<br />
<br /></blockquote>
When the jury took only three hours to determine that the State had not proven that charge beyond a reasonable doubt, if at all, <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/judge_pleased.jpg">Judge Friend was all smiles</a>, as reported by the Chicago Tribune on August 3, 1921. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga5XOTlfCYeXgoVp1vvglvEo1c1-72z5G-nb9n7d6lXB7bX7VuVzGImVo7fzmKZUlR4OuaTMnECkAyklwqa0yjEF-HSSdHtX32IY1KvnkUwRzyg_E1wipfdMVwg3MGissWLUFWJxXVJR0E/s1600/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Wed__Aug_3__1921-acquittal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga5XOTlfCYeXgoVp1vvglvEo1c1-72z5G-nb9n7d6lXB7bX7VuVzGImVo7fzmKZUlR4OuaTMnECkAyklwqa0yjEF-HSSdHtX32IY1KvnkUwRzyg_E1wipfdMVwg3MGissWLUFWJxXVJR0E/s1600/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Wed__Aug_3__1921-acquittal.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
On the other hand, many journalists of the day were shocked by the verdict, because several of the players had confessed their participation in the fix. Sportswriter H.G. Salsinger summed up the prevailing attitude in the August 11, 1921 edition of The Sporting News:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
"There has never been a jury verdict that has aroused such wide discussion and so much unfavorable comment."
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
Subsequent reviews by legal experts, however, have confirmed that the jury technically had delivered the correct verdict based upon their instructions. Writing in the February 1, 1988 edition of the American Bar Association Journal, James Kirby concluded (<a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=vqbROoIZmJsC&lpg=PA68&ots=uEamJ2GzpD&dq=If%20the%20intent%20to%20throw%20games%20plus%20taking%20money%20plus%20agreeing%20to%20lose%20and%20actually%20losing%20were%20not%20enough%2C%20the%20prosecution%20never%20had%20a%20chance.%20The%20law%20was%20simply%20inadequate%20for%20the%20Black%20Sox%20offenses%2C%20even%20if%20the%20worst%20about%20them%20is%20believed.&pg=PA68#v=onepage&q=%22intent%20to%20throw%20games%22&f=false">page 68</a>):<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
"If the intent to throw games plus taking money plus agreeing to lose and actually losing were not enough, the prosecution never had a chance. The law was simply inadequate for the Black Sox' offenses, even if the worst about them is believed."
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
In fact, when the prosecution had rested its case, Judge Friend granted defense motions to dismiss charges against two of the defendants and informed the prosecutors that he would probably set aside any jury findings against three others, including two of the players, since virtually no case had been presented against them. The technical legal issues involved in the case enable us to understand why the baseball commissioner felt he could expel all the Black Sox from baseball despite the "not guilty" verdict. The commissioner and the jury were ruling on two completely separate matters. The jury had to determine whether the accused had committed crimes. The commissioner had to determine whether the Black Sox had either conspired to throw or had actually thrown any ball games, acts which were not illegal at the time, but were obviously contrary to the best interests of both the general public and the institution of organized professional baseball. Although Commissioner Landis and the jury seem upon first impression to have come to opposite conclusions, this is illusory. Both may have been correct. The Black Sox were apparently not guilty of a crime, but nonetheless seem to have engineered a World Series defeat.<br />
<br />
This brings us back around to Buck Weaver and Joe Jackson. If the Black Sox in general had conspired to throw and then had actually thrown the World Series, were those two men exceptions? Were they, at least, less guilty than the other defendants?<br />
<br />
<h3>
Buck Weaver</h3>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OQSZW9I2ue9alG5uMREaQGVhkATuxsxtTTNGMk5h0t9vMn5kAkxWGyrAW5GqahX3q1tfU1ylNkdnY5ImX9rOMcYYcC94m7CiF8zPDs1G7c_r_IgJ-IpqkBNn3YngyX1ofdeV2CZu_Sq7/s1600/buck-weaver-070115-sn-ftrjpg_9zvt4un41npi1xaxqjaonh3r5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OQSZW9I2ue9alG5uMREaQGVhkATuxsxtTTNGMk5h0t9vMn5kAkxWGyrAW5GqahX3q1tfU1ylNkdnY5ImX9rOMcYYcC94m7CiF8zPDs1G7c_r_IgJ-IpqkBNn3YngyX1ofdeV2CZu_Sq7/s1600/buck-weaver-070115-sn-ftrjpg_9zvt4un41npi1xaxqjaonh3r5.jpg" width="700" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">The player</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<video controls="" height="”240”" id="buck" imageanchor="1" src="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/buck.mp4" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" width="”352”"></video></div>
<br />
Buck Weaver was a perennial jug-eared kid, the goofy-lookin' boy who sat behind you in third grade, the one with an ubiquitous jack-o'-lantern grin.<br />
<br />
Author Nelson Algren called him, "A joyous boy, all heart and hard-trying. A territorial animal who guarded the spiked sand around third like his life."<br />
<br />
In many ways, Buck did what the rest of us dreamt of when we were boys on the sandlot, frustrated with our inability to master the game. He turned a base of uninspiring athletic skills into major league stardom.<br />
<br />
<br />
When he first came up to the majors he was a below average right-handed hitter whose defense at shortstop was as raw as his batting. In his rookie season of 1912, he led the league in errors with 71, while batting only .224. About the only thing worse than his hitting and fielding was his base running, which resulted in only 13 successful steals in 33 attempts. But he was only 21, and the White Sox loved his attitude, so management was patient with him. Undiscouraged by his disappointing first term, he set about to make himself a ball player. The first step in his development was to learn to switch hit, which added nearly 50 points to his batting average in the following year. Then he practiced relentlessly to become a competent major league shortstop, and then a respected third baseman when afforded the opportunity to move over to the line. He eventually became a true star, considered one of the best third sackers in the game on both offense and defense. The progress he made was a testimony to his work ethic. He was in the major leagues for nine years. He batted just .247 over the first five, but .305 over the last four, and he seemed to be getting better every year. In his final year before the ban, when he was still in his twenties, he batted .331, just three points below Ty Cobb.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">The scandal</span><br />
<br />
Question #1, "Did he conspire to commit a criminal act?" can fairly be answered in the negative for all the accused, including Weaver. Question #3, "Did he actually do anything to throw the Series?" also requires a negative response in Bucky's case. He is almost universally believed to have done his best to win the 1919 Series. His manager, the team owner, the fans and the scribes all believed that he played to win and went all out on every play (possibly excepting his first at bat). If Commissioner Landis had allowed Buck to continue playing, the White Sox, or any of the other 15 teams in major league baseball, would have signed him in a heartbeat, without the slightest doubt about his unflinching will to win.<br />
<br />
That leaves only Question 2, "Did he conspire to throw the World Series?"<br />
<br />
The answer to that one is complicated. In his favor, Weaver never agreed to participate in the fix and he never accepted any money to do so. On the other hand, and this is a factor ignored by his apologists, he took several actions to further the conspiracy itself:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>One of the Black Sox who confessed to the grand jury, <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/0998b35f">Lefty Williams</a>, made a confession prior to his grand jury appearance in which he <a href="http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/blacksox/williamsconfession.html">placed Weaver at a pre-series discussion of the fix</a> at the Warner Hotel in Chicago between five of the Black Sox (Chick Gandil, <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/1f272b1a">Eddie Cicotte</a>, <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/cd61b579">Happy Felsch</a>, Weaver and Williams), and two gamblers, identified by Williams as "Sullivan and Brown." Sullivan was later identified as <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/423c7256">"Sport" Sullivan</a>, the famous Boston bookmaker, and Brown turned out to be <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/83d52aa2">Nat Evans</a>, a trusted associate of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arnold_Rothstein">Arnold Rothstein</a>, the criminal mastermind who was reputed to be the financial backer of the fix. This was the first time a wide group of the players had met with those particular high-rolling gamblers. Prior to that occasion, the only player who knew Sullivan was first baseman <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/945ce343">Chick Gandil</a>, a long-time acquaintance of the dapper gambler, dating back to Gandil's stint with the Washington Senators in 1912.
</li>
<br />
<br />
<li>Williams' actual grand jury testimony was even less favorable to Weaver. He revealed that immediately after the meeting described above, he, Buck Weaver and Happy Felsch had gone for a walk together, during which <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=qLXytSDc5YIC&lpg=PA58&ots=UfW-WOMAK5&dq=williams%20had%20walked%20the%20streets%20with%20weaver%20and%20felsch&pg=PA58#v=onepage&q=%22williams%20had%20walked%20the%20streets%20with%20weaver%20and%20felsch%22&f=false">they discussed how to throw ball games without being detected</a>.
</li>
<br />
<br />
<li>Another would-be Series fixer, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/b/burnsbi01.shtml">"Sleepy" Bill Burns</a>, <a href="http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/blacksox/trialtestimony.html">testified in the Black Sox criminal trial</a> that Weaver was present at a meeting at the Sinton Hotel in Cincinnati just before the opening game of the World Series, during which Burns and his associate told the players that they had lined up $100,000 to reward the players for their co-operation.
</li>
<br />
<br />
<li>Burns offered a more detailed account of the Sinton Hotel meeting when he was deposed for the Milwaukee civil trial in which the players sued for back wages. Burns revealed that Weaver was not only there, but was the lookout <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=qLXytSDc5YIC&lpg=PA156&ots=UfW-WOPEK5&dq=%22recounted%20on%20the%20bed%20by%20Gandil%22&pg=PA156#v=snippet&q=%22Weaver%20getting%20up%20once%20or%20twice%22&f=false">who got up once or twice to make sure there was no sign of the impeccably honest White Sox manager, Kid Gleason</a>, in the hallway.
</li>
<br />
<br />
<li>In the same pre-grand-jury confession cited earlier, Lefty Williams also placed Weaver at another meeting of the conspirators, this one for players only, in Chick Gandil's room at the Sinton just before the Series opener, between the same five players who had met with Sport Sullivan at the Warner Hotel in Chicago. Williams confessed, "We asked (Gandil) when he was going to get the hundred thousand that Burns and Attell was supposed to give us. He says, 'They are supposed to give me twenty or thirty thousand after each game.'"
</li>
<br />
<br />
<li><a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/The_Lincoln_Star_Fri__May_12__1922_Weaver_says_they_bribed_Detroit.jpg">Weaver freely admitted in 1922</a> that he had been part of a conspiracy to throw games in the 1917 season, although not as the bribed loser, but as the briber. Weaver claimed that he and many of his teammates had bought off the Detroit Tigers to throw two double headers on September 2nd and 3rd, 1917, thus assuring a pennant for the White Sox over the Red Sox. Weaver further alleged that the White Sox later reciprocated by throwing the last three games of the 1919 season to the Tigers. Those three games were meaningless to the Sox (they were up four and a half games with three to play), but were meaningful to the Tigers, who hoped to slip past the Yankees and collect the league's third place bonus money. At the time he made this admission, Weaver was attempting to demonstrate that justice was not applied equally because he had been banned for practices that were commonplace in baseball at the time, and which had been overlooked for many other players who were still in good standing.
</li>
<br />
<br />
<li>When Sleepy Bill Burns was deposed for the Milwaukee trial, <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=qLXytSDc5YIC&lpg=PA156&ots=UfW-WOPEK5&dq=%22recounted%20on%20the%20bed%20by%20Gandil%22&pg=PA156#v=onepage&q=%22recounted%20on%20the%20bed%22&f=false">his highly detailed testimony placed Buck Weaver at a payoff</a>. Burns, acting as a facilitator between the players and the gamblers, took $10,000 to the players in the Sinton Hotel after game two of the series, and handed the bills to Chick Gandil. Present in that room were all of the indicted players except Joe Jackson. Two corrupt infielders, <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/fde3d63f">Swede Risberg</a> and <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/7d8be958">Fred McMullin</a>, counted the money, then Gandil re-counted it in front of everyone, including Weaver.
</li>
<br />
<br />
<li>When baseball's most famous maverick owner, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Veeck">Bill Veeck</a>, owned the White Sox many years after the scandal, he found some forgotten memorabilia deep in the bowels of Comiskey Park. Included in the treasure trove was the diary of Harry Grabiner, who had been the secretary to Charles Comiskey during the Black Sox scandal. After reviewing Grabiner's recap of an investigator's interview with Buck Weaver, Veeck wrote in "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Hustlers-Handbook-Bill-Veeck/dp/1566638275">The Hustler's Handbook</a>" (page 284): "There is very little doubt that Weaver did remain honest throughout the Series but he was hardly faced, as had been previously supposed, with a difficult last-minute decision about whether to squeal on his friends. He had months to think it over and if he had come to a calculated decision not to go along with the fix, he had also come to a calculated decision to keep his mouth shut."</li>
<br />
<br />
<li>Two of Weaver's honest teammates thought he was crooked, including team captain and superstar Eddie Collins. As reported in <a href="http://www.johnny-web.com/blacksox/collins_on_weaver_and_cicotte.jpg">the October 30, 1920 edition of Collyer's Eye</a>, Collins told reporter Frank Klein that Weaver made a suspicious play in his very first at bat of the World Series: "As to the actual playing there wasn't a single doubt in my mind after I went to bat for the first time in Cincinnati. The first man up for us was Leibold. Nemo singled and when I attempted to sacrifice him I forced the lad at second. The next man up was Weaver. In the second ball pitched, Weaver gave me the "hit and run" signal and I was caught off second by the proverbial mile. When I returned to the bench, I immediately accused Weaver of not even attempting to hit the ball. I told all this to Comiskey." Regarding suspicious plays in 1920, Collins declared, "If the gamblers didn't have Weaver and Cicotte in their pocket, then I don't know a thing about baseball." <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=CRMBBAAAQBAJ&lpg=PA172&dq=kerr%20threw%20his%20glove%20across%20the%20infield&pg=PA172#v=onepage&q=kerr%20threw%20his%20glove%20across%20the%20infield&f=false">Pitcher Dickie Kerr also thought that Weaver was among the players throwing games</a> in 1920. According to Collins, as reported in Baseball Digest, June, 1949: "Dickie Kerr was pitching for us and doing well. A Boston player hit a ball that fell between Jackson and Felsch. We thought it should have been caught. The next batter bunted and Kerr made a perfect throw to Weaver for a force out. The ball pops out of Weaver's glove. When the inning was over, Kerr scaled his glove across the diamond. He looks at Weaver and Risberg who are standing together and says, 'If you'd told me you wanted to lose this game, I could have done it a lot easier.' We lose three or four more games the same way."</li>
<br />
<br />
<li>The confessed ringleader of the fix, <a href="http://baseballhistorian.blogspot.com/2012/03/chick-gandils-side-of-story.html">Chick Gandil, told a reporter</a> for Sports Illustrated Magazine (<a href="http://www.si.com/vault/issue/42194/65/2">September 17, 1956 issue</a>) that Weaver had been part of a first meeting of all eight indicted White Sox the day after the Sullivan offer, and that Weaver had been an active participant. He said: "That night Cicotte and I called the other six together for a meeting and told them of Sullivan’s offer. They were all interested and thought we should reconnoiter to see if the dough would really be put on the line. Weaver suggested we get paid in advance; then if things got too hot, we could double-cross the gambler, keep the cash and also take the big end of the Series cut by beating the Reds. We agreed this was a hell of a brainy plan."
</li>
<br />
<br />
<li>Gandil also claimed that Weaver was an active participant in a later meeting in which the players discussed the competing offer from Sleepy Bill Burns, "Cicotte and I called a meeting of the players that night and told them about Burns. Weaver piped up, 'We might as well take his money, too, and go to hell with all of them.'"
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
Any of Chick Gandil's claims probably ought to be taken with many grains of salt. He is generally considered to be a scoundrel, and cannot be considered a reliable witness. Gandil either lied or misreported at least one key fact in that Sports Illustrated interview. He claimed to have dealt with Arnold Rothstein personally, which never happened, and was about as likely as a stranger being a welcome guest at J.D. Salinger's house. But even if Gandil's words are completely ignored, there is still a persuasive case that Buck Weaver was never as innocent as he always claimed to be. Lefty Williams had no reason to lie either before or during his grand jury testimony because he was under the (mistaken) impression that his co-operation would grant him immunity from punishment. Bill Burns was grilled by numerous top lawyers who tried to break his stories and failed. Moreover, every part of Burns's story was fully corroborated by his sidekick, <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/60bd890e">Billy Maharg</a>. <br />
<br />
It seems almost certain that Buck Weaver had heard the plans to fix the series, had witnessed a payoff, and had even taken actions to further the conspiracy (acting as the lookout for a meeting he knew was illicit, and discussing the ways and means of throwing ball games). It is absolutely certain that he knew exactly what was going on. He knew before the World Series that the fix was in, and took no action to prevent his teammates from pulling it off.<br />
<br />
If there had been a law in Illinois in 1919 against deliberately losing a public sporting event, and if therefore conspiring to throw the 1919 World Series had broken a second law, Buck Weaver would not have been guilty of the former, but would debatably have been legally guilty of the latter. His actions might be interpreted by a jury as being part of the conspiracy, or they might not, because juries are unpredictable, and might unduly weigh in such factors as the fact that Weaver played the Series honestly, even though an illegal act and the conspiracy to commit such an act should be evaluated as two completely separate crimes.<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
<center>
My own take.</center>
<br />
<br />
After having immersed myself in the period 1917-1924 for weeks now, having devoured every book and website I could find on the Black Sox, and having come to know them and their surrounding cast like family, I can't find it in my heart to dislike Buck Weaver or Eddie Cicotte (SEE-kott).<br />
<br />
Of all the characters in the story, they come off as the two best human beings.<br />
<br />
Cicotte made horrible mistakes, but had a conscience. Deep inside he was a good person who bared his soul and tried to make amends for his wrongs by living a righteous post-baseball life in virtual anonymity, with quiet dignity, working hard, keeping out of the limelight, loving his family, and sheltering his children as well as he could from the bitterness America felt toward him. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoANgvwZsazD8zF2Ro4rIBgZ6a4al_Hrz1WLoIgLoJVFVa_rQyzi9eqvzU4MfGGqh7vaw2shZCjk1lhyxRrcrfjIvpUyrW-KE0qfHXYhssfGyXOj9d8Lz-nJX5gi8_7qy-jIh-b5GjpIFm/s1600/Buck+weaver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoANgvwZsazD8zF2Ro4rIBgZ6a4al_Hrz1WLoIgLoJVFVa_rQyzi9eqvzU4MfGGqh7vaw2shZCjk1lhyxRrcrfjIvpUyrW-KE0qfHXYhssfGyXOj9d8Lz-nJX5gi8_7qy-jIh-b5GjpIFm/s1600/Buck+weaver.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Similarly, Weaver became a quiet family man, a faithful employee to his post-Sox employers, and <a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/sports/baseball/whitesox/ct-spt-0705-buck-weaver-black-sox-reinstatement-20150703-story.html">a great surrogate dad to his nieces</a> when their own dad died. The movie version of "Eight Men Out" got a lot of things wrong, but it got one thing right about Bucky: he always remained a kid who loved to play baseball at the highest level. He had that taken away from him, along with his good name, but in the face of that he remained a gentle and considerate man with unending reserves of patience and optimism. Like all those who love baseball and its history, I wish that he had eventually come totally clean about his knowledge of the fix instead of making his disingenuous periodic protestations of innocence, if for no other reason than to give us a really good look behind the scenes, but I understand his loyalty, and he was loyal to a fault.<br />
<br />
<br />
Bucky did try to take the stand in the Black Sox trial, so maybe he later offered complete co-operation and a full accounting to one or more commissioners. I don't know. But I do know this: he was beloved as a star, and remained so after his disgrace, despite remaining in the same city in which he had allowed his teammates to throw the World Series, and had thus stripped the city's team so bare of talent from the resulting expulsions that it was doomed to 40 years of mediocrity or worse. I feel that the arguments I made above may be the strongest case anyone has ever made against him - and maybe he should have blown the whistle on his teammates. Or maybe not. But I reckon if Chicago could love the guy and so completely forgive him, the rest of us can as well.<br />
<br />
<center>
<i>
For what a patch of spiked sand around third looks like<br />
50 years after<br />
Only a turning wind may remember</i></center>
<center>
<i><br />
</i><span style="font-size: x-small;">
... Nelson Algren, "Ballet for Opening Day"</span></center>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Next, in Part II: Shoeless Joe<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-17048375249269927312016-02-21T22:24:00.000-08:002016-06-29T22:08:16.276-07:00What Happened to the Offense?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
In the 2014 baseball season, teams averaged only 4.07 runs per game. That represented the nadir of a steady decline since the 2000 season, and the lowest run production since 1981, when the figure was 4.00. In comparison, the figure had been more than a run higher (5.14) as recently as the year 2000.<br />
<br />
Trends like this tend to distort our perception of player achievement. A slugger who batted in 102 runs in 2014 is as productive as one who batted in 129 in 2000, yet those two RBI figures look very different to our eyes. Lacking in-depth analysis, we perceive a player who bats in 100 runs to be a solid middle-of-the-lineup guy, a good player, but one possessed by virtually every team in the majors. On the other hand, our mental shortcuts determine a player who drives in 129 teammates to be a premier slugger, possibly the league leader. In fact, no player came within ten of that number in 2014.<br />
<br />
Similarly, a pitcher with a 3.74 ERA in 2014 was an average major leaguer, a sturdy third starter, but in 2000, that would have been good enough for third place in the American League, behind only Pedro Martinez and Roger Clemens, and barely behind Clemens (3.70) at that. <br />
<br />
The gap between 2000 and 2014 by no means represents a radical outlier in baseball history. If you want to see a dramatic contrast, study 1908, 1930 and 1968, when the "runs per game" statistic went on a roller coaster ride from 3.38 up to 5.55 and back down to 3.42. There is no need to study years which are multiple decades apart. The decline from 2000 to 2014 is a steep and sudden one to occur in merely fourteen years, but nowhere near as steep as the drop in the fourteen years from 1894 to 1908, which looked like this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcJeKR7zeF0Drmkf3wHzDqnL1sL0SSoUexeK8rQitlN-6dlMGvUB5krFh7VW86_zZStyraH40_8G_bh5fcXNkUYJYc5O-_ZVKIKypyePaCWXQU63SGnWQt6b6-Ir_LPv_f9znNki4IQPm/s1600/1894-1908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcJeKR7zeF0Drmkf3wHzDqnL1sL0SSoUexeK8rQitlN-6dlMGvUB5krFh7VW86_zZStyraH40_8G_bh5fcXNkUYJYc5O-_ZVKIKypyePaCWXQU63SGnWQt6b6-Ir_LPv_f9znNki4IQPm/s1600/1894-1908.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The detailed reasons for that decline are outside the purview of this article, but the simplified explanation is that the pitching distance was changed from 50 feet to 60 feet in 1893, and that change resulted in an immediate upsurge in run production. In 1892 the runs per game figure looked like a modern number and was in fact lower than in the year 2000, but the modified pitching distance immediately gave batters a massive edge which they only gradually relinquished as the existing pitchers learned how to adapt, then new pitchers arrived who had developed their deliveries from the longer distance.<br />
<br />
Given those sharp contrasts between the apogee and perigee of run production, it's amazing that the baseball itself has not changed appreciably in size and weight since 1893, which was the first season played with both overhand pitching and the modern pitching distance. Many other things have changed: the inside composition of the ball, playing conditions, ballparks, mitts, the height of the mound, the size of the strike zone, the strength and conditioning of the players, the hitting strategies, the use of relief pitchers, night games, PEDs, how often the balls are changed within a game, and various rules here and there. Whenever the game has tilted too far toward either offense or defense, the lords of the game have begun tinkering with counter-strategies to restore some kind of equilibrium satisfactory to players and fans. <br />
<br />
In order to understand the value of various players throughout baseball history, we need detailed analysis to adjust our perceptions of the players' stats from year to year and era to era. As shown in the graph above, the run production per game dropped from 7.44 to 3.38 in a relatively short period at the turn of the 20th century, so 70 RBI in 1908 were approximately equivalent to 150 in 1894. (Well, these would be hypothetical, retroactively calculated RBI, since that particular statistic was then unknown.) It is not easy for us to accept the fact that a 70 RBI man and a 150 RBI man are equivalent. It is equally difficult to understand that Pedro Martinez's 1.74 ERA in 2000, when the major league ERA was 4.77, was actually better than Bob Gibson's 1.12 in 1968, when the average of MLB was 2.98. In fact, Gibson's season was only the sixth-best of the modern era, relative to the league's performance. Greg Maddux alone had two better seasons.<br />
<br />
I suppose many of you are already aware of every point I have made thus far. I'm afraid that I have, as usual, given a verbose and marginally relevant introduction to an article about exactly how offenses have changed over the years, but for the benefit of those who do not pore over old record books, it's essential to establish first that those changes have actually happened and have often been significant. For the essence of this analysis, I am going to concentrate on only four years: <br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>1894, when the game reached its offensive peak.
</li>
<li>1930, which was the peak year of the offensive explosion begun by Babe Ruth, which essentially ended after the prime years of Mays and Mantle. (That era lasted approximately from 1920 until 1962.)
</li>
<li>2000, which was the peak year of the offensive revival that occurred from 1993 to 2009.
</li>
<li>2015, which was neither a peak nor a nadir of any trends, but just happens to be the most recent year in the books. (If I really wanted to establish a point about offensive decline, I'd use 2014, in which the run production was the lowest since 1981. Inconveniently enough for my point, offenses actually made a slight comeback in 2015.)
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
The goal: to compare contemporary baseball to the top offensive seasons in history, in order to determine precisely what has changed.<br />
<br />
The first thing we learn from that comparison is that on-base percentages have declined steadily.
<br />
<ul>
<li>1894: .379
</li>
<li>1930: .356
</li>
<li>2000: .345
</li>
<li>2015: .317
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
We then can determine that walks have relatively little to do with the decline. The number of walks per 550 at bats has remained relatively constant since 1894.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>1894: 56
</li>
<li>1930: 49
</li>
<li>2000: 60
</li>
<li>2015: 47
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
And therefore, since walks are not really to blame for the decline in on-base percentage, we realize that batting averages have declined steadily, ultimately dropping 55 points since 1894.
<br />
<ul>
<li>1894: .309
</li>
<li>1930: .296
</li>
<li>2000: .270
</li>
<li>2015: .254
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
We can completely eliminate extra base hits as the cause of that decline. Although triples have metamorphosed into homers over the years, the number of doubles has remained almost constant, and so has the total number of extra base hits per 550 AB:
<br />
<ul>
<li>1894: 44
</li>
<li>1930: 48
</li>
<li>2000: 51
</li>
<li>2015: 46
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
We have therefore found our culprit in the case of the declining on-base percentage: the number of singles per 550 AB has steadily declined.
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>1894: 125
</li>
<li>1930: 114
</li>
<li>2000: 98
</li>
<li>2015: 93
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
A decline from 125 singles per 550 AB to 93 represents a loss of .058 in batting average, and that explains the entire decline for the past 120 years. Knowing <b>what</b> has changed drives an investigation into <b>why</b>. On the surface this fact seems puzzling, because baseball has a little-known constant which is worded as follows: excluding extra-base hits and strikeouts, batters achieve a single once out of every four times they put the ball into play.
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>1894: .265
</li>
<li>1930: .253
</li>
<li>2000: .247
</li>
<li>2015: .246
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
And that finally ends the quest to determine why on-base percentages have declined. Since batters have always had approximately the same success rate - about one in four - when putting the ball into play for a single, and since neither the number of extra base hits nor the number of walks has changed significantly, the simple answer to the decline in OBP is that <u>batters are not putting the ball into play as often</u>. Bingo! With the possible exception of the fact that modern players hit ever more homers and ever fewer triples, the greatest change in baseball offenses from 1894 to the present has been the number of strikeouts per 550 AB.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>1894: 32
</li>
<li>1930: 50
</li>
<li>2000: 103
</li>
<li>2015: 124
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
In a hypothetical season of 550 AB, the average player in 1894 would put the ball into play for a single about 474 times, since he would hit 44 extra base shots and whiff 32 times. By 1930 that number had declined to 452 tries, then to 396 in 2000, and finally all the way to 380 in 2015. That decline represents an immense difference. For an average player, it means that 94 at-bats per year that used to result in fly balls, line drives or ground balls, thus presenting a one in four chance of a hit, are now terminated while the batter stands in the box. <br />
<br />
Why? It may be that today's pitchers are faster and have more pitches in their repertoires; it may be that today's pitching strategies force the batter to face a fresh arm far more often; it may be that today's batters more frequently swing for distance rather than contact; it may be that there has been a decline in the art of bunting for a base hit; it may be (and probably is) all of these things. The explanation may be complex and nuanced, but the conclusion is not: the one and only reason why on-base percentages have declined over the years is simply the steady decline in the frequency of batters putting the ball into play.<br />
<br />
To address the question posed at the top of this page - "What Happened to the Offense?" - the answer is obviously "strikeouts."<br />
<br />
This trend is not at all in remission. Today, there are 7.7 strikeouts per team per game. At the beginning of the decade the figure was 7.1. At the beginning of the previous decade it was 6.5. In 1990, it was 5.7. In 1980 it was 4.8. There were some up and downs in the 1950-80 period, but in 1950 the number was 3.9. In 1940 it was 3.7. In 1930 it was 3.2. That number went up and down a bit in the 1893-1930 period, but in the first year of the modern pitching distance, it was 2.13.
<br />
<br />
Here is the chart that reflects all the data referenced above. All non-percentage numbers are expressed per 550 AB. I use that arbitrary number because it represents, to us, a typical season for a typical full-time player. We understand the difference between a 30-strikeout player and a 90, or the difference between a two-homer man and an 18, so it is easy to view the chart and immediately perceive what kind of player performance was typical in an era.<br />
<br />
<table bgcolor="#000000" border="1" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;"><br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: yellow;">R/G</span><br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">1B<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">2B<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">3B<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">HR<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">EBH<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">K<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">BB<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">avg<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">avg </span><span style="text-align: left;">ex K</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">avg ex K
and HR<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">avg ex K
and EBH<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">Year
2015<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: yellow;">4.25</span><br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">93<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">27<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">3<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">16<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">46<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">124<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">47<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.254<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.329<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.302<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.246<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">Year
2000<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: yellow;">5.14</span><br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">98<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">29<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">3<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">19<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">51<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">103<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">60<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.270<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.333<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.304<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.247<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">Year
1930<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: yellow;">5.65</span><br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">114<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">30<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">8<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">10<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">48<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">50<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">49<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.296<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.326<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.312<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.253<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">Year
1894<br />
</span></td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: yellow;">7.38</span><br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">125<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">26<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">12<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">6<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">44<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">32<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">56<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.309<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.328<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.320<br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.265<br />
</span></td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table><br />
<br />
We know that batters in 2015 hit .254 overall and .329 when not striking out. Thanks to Fan Graphs, we also know approximately how that breaks down by type of contact.
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" bgcolor="#000000" border="0" cellpadding="6"
cellspacing="6">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">type of
contact<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">percent
of at bats<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">batting
average<br>
</font></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">grounder<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">34.1%<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">.245<br>
</font></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">fly ball<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">24.0%<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">.245<br>
</font></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">line
drive<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">16.3%<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">.685<br>
</font></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">pop up<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">3.1%<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">.015<br>
</font></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">strike
out<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">22.5%<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">.000<br>
</font></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff"><br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff"><br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff"><br>
</font></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">all at
bats<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff"><br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">.254<br>
</font></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">non
strikeouts<br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff"><br>
</font></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><font color="#ffffff">.329<br>
</font></td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<br />
<br />
<center><h1>How does this affect pitching statistics?</h1></center>
<br />
<br />
The vast and relatively recent increase in strikeouts affects pitching statistics and strategies perhaps even more dramatically than it affects batting, because it greatly increases the advantage of a strikeout pitcher over a pitcher who allows contact. In essence, strikeouts and WHIP have become ever more closely correlated. This point stems from another of baseball's constants: when not striking out, batters achieve a hit once every three times. The difference between this constant and the one above is that extra base hits are now considered in the same category as singles, simply so we can see the effect of strikeouts on batting average. In other words, when batters do not strike out, they hit about .333, and always have since the game started using the modern rules. The following shows the batting averages of all players when not striking out:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>1894: .328
</li>
<li>1930: .326
</li>
<li>2000: .333
</li>
<li>2015: .329
</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
It is astounding that with all the changes in baseball since 1894, the needle here has not moved.
<br />
<br />
That statistic stays relatively constant from team to team and pitcher to pitcher as well, although a single season may not be adequate for the stability to be apparent because of the variations caused by relatively small sample sizes. While a modern major league season produces overall statistics based on some 180,000 plate appearances, and therefore reflects an accurate measurement of performance relatively unaffected by random variations, an individual starting pitcher will only face about a thousand batters or fewer in a season, so his statistics will be more significantly vulnerable to the vicissitudes of chance. But even there we can see the truth of the axiom. You know that batters hit for very low averages against Randy Johnson, and 2002 was his winningest year, when he won the Cy Young by going 24-5 and leading the league in wins, winning percentage, strikeouts and ERA. He allowed only 6.8 hits per nine innings, compared to a league average of 9.0. So what did batters hit against him when not striking out? They batted .321, the same as they hit against any mere mortal. Pedro Martinez had a similar season in 1999, when he was 23-4 and led the league in all those same categories. Batters hit .343 against him when not striking out. Bob Gibson's winningest year was 1970, when he went 23-7. Batters hit .315 against him when not striking out.<br />
<br />
What additional value derives from knowing this?<br />
<br />
Quite a bit, actually. Since players succeed in one out of every three at-bats when not striking out, you can accurately predict a pitcher's "hits allowed" if you know how many strikeouts he had. To word it another way, "hits allowed" is not really an independent variable. Since the batting average in non-strikeout at bats is a constant, the number of hits is a derived statistic which hinges on the number of non-strikeout opportunities, as follows:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>Take the number of innings pitched and derive the number of pitching outs. There are three outs per innings, but only 20 of every 21 outs is created by the pitcher. The rest come from baserunning, so the number of pitching outs = innings pitched times 20/7.
</li>
<li>Subtract his strikeouts to get the number of other pitching outs.
</li>
<li>Divide the total by 2/3 to get the number of other at bats against him. (If hits represent 1/3 of the at-bats, then outs must be the other 2/3.
</li>
<li>Multiply that number times 1/3 to get his hits allowed.
</li>
</ol>
<br />
<br />
You can combine those steps of course. Steps three and four are easy to combine because dividing a number by 2/3 then taking a third of the result is the same as taking half of the original number. Therefore, half of (20/7 IP)-K is 10/7 IP- K/2. In English, multiply innings pitched times 10/7, then subtract half of strikeouts.
<br />
<br />
If you are working with "per inning" numbers, hits per inning equals 1.43 minus half of strikeouts per inning, as summarized below:
<br />
<br />
<center>
<table bgcolor="#000000" border="1" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">k/inn<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">h/inn<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">1.4<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.73<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">1.3<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.78<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">1.2<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.83<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">1.1<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.88<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">1<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.93<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.9<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.98<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.8<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">1.03<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.7<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">1.08<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.6<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">1.13<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.5<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">1.18<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.4<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">1.23<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;"><br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;"><br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.95<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">.95<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center>
<br />
<br />
Here is the same chart expressed per 9 innings rather than per inning, since some people prefer to read it that way:
<br />
<br />
<center>
<table bgcolor="#000000" border="1" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">k/g<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">h/g<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">13<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">6.4<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">12<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">6.9<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">11<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">7.4<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">10<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">7.9<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">9<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">8.4<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">8<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">8.9<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">7<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">9.4<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">6<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">9.9<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">5<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">10.4<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">4<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">10.9<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">3<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">11.4<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;"><br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;"><br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">8.57<br />
</span> </td>
<td valign="top"><span style="color: white;">8.57<br />
</span> </td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center>
<br />
<br />
The last row in each chart represents the equilibrium point, the place where strikeouts are equal to hits. For example, if a pitcher strikes out 8.57 batters per nine innings, you would also expect him to allow about the same number of hits.<br />
<br />
Does this knowledge have any practical value?<br />
<br />
Maybe. These charts enable one to identify pitchers with special talents. If a pitcher strikes out only three players per nine innings, for example, but consistently manages to hold the opposition to nine hits in those innings, then he has the ability to defy the .333 constant in some way, perhaps by inducing weak grounders, perhaps by getting many fly balls in a cavernous ballpark. Such a pitcher was Ned Garver, the only man ever to win twenty games for a team that lost a hundred. He went 20-12 for the hapless 1951 Browns, a feat so miraculous that it earned him the start in the All-Star Game and <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/awards/awards_1951.shtml#ALmvp">second place in the MVP balloting</a>. In the course of his career he averaged only 3.2 strikeouts per game (defined as nine innings), but allowed only nine hits, as compared to a predicted eleven. He did this by defying the .333 constant. Over the course of his career, batters hit only .286 against him when not striking out.<br />
<br />
Hall of Famer Robin Roberts also managed to defy the constant. Over the length of his career, batters hit only .292 against him when not striking out. In the peak of his career, 1952-1955, when he led the league in wins every year, he allowed a typical number of extra base hits, but demonstrated a remarkable ability to prevent singles, especially in his home park. If these sorts of pitchers can be identified, and if it is possible to determine the reasons for their success, they can be placed in situations suited to their talents.
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-53817547542554182502016-02-19T00:02:00.000-08:002016-02-19T00:26:28.927-08:00Baseball's radio and TV announcers: 1959<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Baseball's radio and TV announcers: 1959<br />
<br />
Reference: (click to enlarge)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxWaf5XwkXtjC8NMXVxDfNf-3ST0_FJHJ3T63u6ixkoZmIGxsfJIUwVnppvYaoYzmB2QFPBniXrqkH_fHua8xw3ZSRTphMYYduLVMiZP5kiNRNQZ7BxkQI_Bx_bgFVJXVmEJVgIOnRd5vt/s1600/Announcers-1959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxWaf5XwkXtjC8NMXVxDfNf-3ST0_FJHJ3T63u6ixkoZmIGxsfJIUwVnppvYaoYzmB2QFPBniXrqkH_fHua8xw3ZSRTphMYYduLVMiZP5kiNRNQZ7BxkQI_Bx_bgFVJXVmEJVgIOnRd5vt/s640/Announcers-1959.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
More info <a href="http://www.baseballchronology.com/Baseball/Years/1959/Media.asp">here</a>. That link (Baseballchronology.com) lists the TV and radio announcers all the way back to 1924, including brief bios of the most important figures.<br />
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<br />
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-84502457791494824942016-02-06T02:14:00.001-08:002021-02-20T00:15:05.968-08:00The last .400 hitter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
No, I'm not writing about Ted Williams. Everyone who loves baseball knows that he batted more than .400 in 1941 and capped it all off by getting six hits on the last day of the season. I don't know if there's anything more to say about Teddy Ballgame. His life and career have been dissected like a frog in a high school bio class. He was one of the rare humans whose fondest wish came true, that one day he would walk down the street and people would point at him and say, "There goes Ted Williams, the greatest hitter who ever lived."<br />
<br />
Today I'm going to tell you the story of another kind of major league ballplayer, the kind of guy who walks down the street and people say, "Isn't that the night clerk at that motel by the interstate?" His name is <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/h/hazlebo01.shtml">Bob Hazle</a> ...<br />
<br />
... Bob "Hurricane" Hazle, the last .400 hitter, who is seen below in his one and only baseball card, from the 1958 Topps series.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0jHFLH3Y82g0iOXy-MgfPOR8w6VKYKRQz-R7Z9YMcw_y3UmkqjOppKJR-Fbcb1yRu1UD6WWn9TrtnyrA0t5hnTE-TN5p_Wl8kN2WqzpPeb5LP_zrr1vP5bYWj-4Ll_adKNeNZkqDhZq-w/s1600/1958_topps_hazle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0jHFLH3Y82g0iOXy-MgfPOR8w6VKYKRQz-R7Z9YMcw_y3UmkqjOppKJR-Fbcb1yRu1UD6WWn9TrtnyrA0t5hnTE-TN5p_Wl8kN2WqzpPeb5LP_zrr1vP5bYWj-4Ll_adKNeNZkqDhZq-w/s1600/1958_topps_hazle.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
For, you see, there are many ways to define "the last .400 hitter." It may be the last major leaguer to hit .400 or more in a full single season in which he qualified for a batting championship (Williams in 1941), or perhaps the last man to hit .400 or better over a stretch of 162 games, whether in a single season or not (Tony Gwynn, from career game #1551 on Jul 27, 1993 to game #1712 on May 13, 1995), or perhaps the last man to hit .400 in a single season with 150 or more plate appearances (Bob Hazle, 1957).<br />
<br />
Hazle not only did that, but did it during the pressure of a pennant race when his performance was critical.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgDdM8ZDy0mImwEKijcPI98XBI6Np6ImYtwunCtyQ0JNfxLogXQNbGz7zLESJJ-TV88LrwLGWBvhnaIxMgDJy8vFnSf8eh-pr70fLmFxQEAea8phx5AJomRjhCrFnGyK13BypIlniooFiU/s1600/1956_final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgDdM8ZDy0mImwEKijcPI98XBI6Np6ImYtwunCtyQ0JNfxLogXQNbGz7zLESJJ-TV88LrwLGWBvhnaIxMgDJy8vFnSf8eh-pr70fLmFxQEAea8phx5AJomRjhCrFnGyK13BypIlniooFiU/s1600/1956_final.jpg" /></a></div>
Let's back up to the beginning of the 1957 season.<br />
<br />
The Milwaukee Braves were coming off a near-miss in 1956, when they had finished in the middle of a three-way pennant race (right) which was decided on the last day of the season.<br />
<br />
The Braves were actually up a half-game with two left to play. At that point the second-place Dodgers had three more games to complete. The Braves won one and lost one, while the defending champion Dodgers won all three, to give them their last pennant in Brooklyn.<br />
<br />
The Braves felt that things were going to change in 1957, because the Dodgers, who had been virtually perennial champs since Jackie Robinson had come up in 1947, were obviously fading. As the 1957 season began, the core members of the Bums' great six-time pennant-winning team had all passed their primes. Robinson, Cox and Reiser were gone. Pee Wee Reese was 38, Campy 35, Furillo 35, Hodges 33, Newcombe 31, Snider and Erskine 30. The Braves, in contrast, were loaded with young guns. Superstars Ed Mathews and Henry Aaron were 25 and 23, while hard-hitting catcher Del Crandall and slugging first baseman Joe Adcock were still in their 20s. They had bolstered their team significantly by filling their only real weak spot with a future Hall of Famer, switch-hitting second baseman Red Schoendienst. They were loaded for bear.<br />
<br />
But a lot of things went wrong. Left field was supposed to be handled by a capable platoon of old-timers, Andy Pafko and Bobby Thomson, each of whom entered the season with more than 200 lifetime homers. Centerfield was considered one of the team's strengths when manned by speedy Bill Bruton, who had led the league in either triples or stolen bases in every year of his career. But Bruton and Pafko were plagued by injuries, and Thomson had to be surrendered in the Schoendienst trade, so the team found itself short of outfielders. Their only option was to reach down to their AAA club at Wichita. First they brought up Wes Covington to play left and then, when Bruton was injured, brought up Bob Hazle to play right, allowing Hank Aaron to move over to center in Bruton's stead. That didn't seem like a positive situation at the time, but it certainly turned out to be. Covington had an OPS of .875 for the season, with 21 homers in only 328 at-bats, while Hazle turned out to be the second coming of Ted Williams, at least for two months, with an OPS of 1.126 (Williams' corresponding figure was 1.116 lifetime.) The combined OPS of the two left-handed Wichita call-ups was higher than that of the club's big sluggers, Mathews and Aaron. As you might imagine, adding the equivalent of a second Mathews-Aaron combination gave the team a turbo boost.<br />
<br />
Hazle became the club's regular right fielder on August 4th. Here is what the standings looked like at the close of the previous day:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxwurFDXPnjq1ed5eSysC2R0hgcjPnXZk7hGBJaodthq66hnupRC15JfACmZmjbDMVf7NVwQDtxx-iwojkkizzFTWKMFAAG5Y7JCLgKL7ebcalE09ZSIVOkiUK5OYaufaTlfwqikfzOp4/s1600/august3_1957.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxwurFDXPnjq1ed5eSysC2R0hgcjPnXZk7hGBJaodthq66hnupRC15JfACmZmjbDMVf7NVwQDtxx-iwojkkizzFTWKMFAAG5Y7JCLgKL7ebcalE09ZSIVOkiUK5OYaufaTlfwqikfzOp4/s1600/august3_1957.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The Braves were ahead of the aging Dodgers at that point, but found themselves a game and half behind the Cardinals. And then they were blown forward by a powerful force, a young man who arrived in Milwaukee as Bob or Bobby, but who soon became known as Hurricane Hazle.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_Hazel">His namesake</a> was a notorious tropical storm that had devastated the coast of South Carolina in 1954 and had moved from there through the eastern United States with such force and eccentricity that it had eventually meandered all the way to Toronto where it became, and may still be, the worst natural disaster ever to hit that city. As you might imagine, Toronto is not designed to be hurricane-proof and the people of that inland city have no idea how to prepare for a hurricane or what to do during one, so the storm left <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Effects_of_Hurricane_Hazel_in_Canada">an unprecedented trail of destruction and death</a> there in October of 1954. Hurricane Hazel became as notorious in its time as Katrina would be two generations later. Like Katrina, any mention of it was universally understood as a symbol for devastation. <br />
<br />
Bob Hazle, also originating in South Carolina, had a metaphorically similar impact on the other teams in the National League. He made a Milwaukee debut that was unlike anything in baseball history. The Braves won the first eleven games Hazle appeared in, while outscoring their opponents 99-34. In eight of those eleven games they scored eight or more runs. Hazle himself had a four-hit game and three three-hit games in that streak, and ended that run with a batting average of .545. In less than two weeks, from August 3th until August 15th, his team had climbed out of their game-and-a-half deficit, all the way up to an eight-game lead, and it was the Hurricane who had blazed the upward trail.<br />
<br />
And Hazle was barely getting started. He still had two more four-hit games and two more three-hit games in him before the season would end. On August 25th, he won a game almost by himself by smacking a pair of three-run homers in a 7-1 victory, raising his batting average back up to .526, and causing the AP to feature him in both their game narrative and a sidebar, thus making the whole country aware of his phenomenal hot streak. (You can click the story below to enlarge it.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWH0KD_JMtMWOb85vMsS8XFSZWKQW4SVdZ6KWknNpC2YmCO7t5fuDZDf7UWjJzWGULECSeJWlI50HZr2TsDDOF2LkunhVce-c5sF5Ab7Xm7El1yhdY6x5iVTC4K01aYcAI4sP1sLf46Ss4/s1600/Janesville_Daily_Gazette_Mon__Aug_26__1957_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" width="660" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWH0KD_JMtMWOb85vMsS8XFSZWKQW4SVdZ6KWknNpC2YmCO7t5fuDZDf7UWjJzWGULECSeJWlI50HZr2TsDDOF2LkunhVce-c5sF5Ab7Xm7El1yhdY6x5iVTC4K01aYcAI4sP1sLf46Ss4/s1600/Janesville_Daily_Gazette_Mon__Aug_26__1957_.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
His final dramatic moment came in the September 22nd game, a come-from-behind victory over the Cubs in which Ed Mathews tied the game with a ninth inning homer, setting the stage for the Hurricane to blow the Cubs down with his own four-bagger in the tenth, his fourth hit of the game. (Once again the story below can be enlarged.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuPKiU9izDHO56eDAegN9FZsCR2oW9OP2OyGSJrR8sIVeLVcg9v6LoBJ86goUqR69-7NPoBPR9GCYLtcgTUS2AhmOixw8U9sro6pnn1c0C4T74VKY22wUgRljnG4kZiC-mhWST8nkanr-d/s1600/The_La_Crosse_Tribune_Mon__Sep_23__1957_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" width="660" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuPKiU9izDHO56eDAegN9FZsCR2oW9OP2OyGSJrR8sIVeLVcg9v6LoBJ86goUqR69-7NPoBPR9GCYLtcgTUS2AhmOixw8U9sro6pnn1c0C4T74VKY22wUgRljnG4kZiC-mhWST8nkanr-d/s1600/The_La_Crosse_Tribune_Mon__Sep_23__1957_.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The team had been averaging 4.65 runs per game through August 3rd, which was barely above the league average of 4.4, but that figure soared to 5.75 after Hazle became a starter. He finished the season with a .403 batting average, a .477 OBP and a .649 slugging average, easily besting Mathews, Aaron and Adcock in all three categories.<br />
<br />
Some years later, a sportswriter asked Eddie Mathews why the team had voted Hazle only a partial World Series share. Without hesitation, Mathews replied, "We were really that cheap? Damn, that's awful. <i>We couldn't have won without him.</i>" <br />
<br />
Hazle's shining season essentially came out of nowhere. He had started playing pro ball in 1950 and, before he arrived to salvage the Braves' 1957 season, had spent one season in military service and six seasons in the minors, five of which could not be deemed much better than mediocre. As recently as 1955 he had been demoted from AAA to AA ball in the Reds' system. His lifetime AAA batting average was only .265, and he had shown just moderate power (13 homers per 550 at bats). Even his great 1957 season, which was to fulfill every dream of major league stardom he might have had, didn't begin auspiciously. After a knee injury halfway through the 1956 season, Hazle was slated to spend a second consecutive year at Wichita. The bad knee hampered his exercise program and he was struggling with his weight. He was depressed enough about his baseball career that he was resigned to the possibility of a demotion to the Braves' AA affiliate in Atlanta, and was almost hoping for it because the fishing was better there than in AAA Wichita. Back in South Carolina, where they still called him Bobby, the Greenville Index Journal reported the following on April 8th:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGEyDS8D-4ulyMT1Vpr2r7Pfe2qGOF9ZHBmWTmN9azLatbLUIgEFXoF0q7hSaemqrDnlmupYOWwvLdzJmTOwRlF6plPYi3mDcFDGQqlzVfMey96FiN1ycj2YRAO0EOkHoPepFKAylSaISr/s1600/Apr_8__1957_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" width="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGEyDS8D-4ulyMT1Vpr2r7Pfe2qGOF9ZHBmWTmN9azLatbLUIgEFXoF0q7hSaemqrDnlmupYOWwvLdzJmTOwRlF6plPYi3mDcFDGQqlzVfMey96FiN1ycj2YRAO0EOkHoPepFKAylSaISr/s1600/Apr_8__1957_.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Later that year Hazle said, "I thought I had had it. I decided if I didn't make the majors in '57. I would call it quits and go sell insurance or something. I got to camp this spring and the knee still bothered me. I was ready to take the first bus back home." <br />
<br />
The coveted promotion to the big show wasn't looking very good as the season progressed. Hazle was batting only .279 with mid-range power at Wichita when Bruton went on the DL, while one of his outfield teammates (Ray Shearer) was hitting .330 with a lot of homers. But Lady Luck was on the side of the Hurricane. The major league club wanted some additional lefties in the line-up, and the left-handed Hazle happened to be streaking at the time of Bruton's injury - he batted .364 in July - so the Braves by-passed the right-handed Shearer to get Hazle on the major league roster. (Shearer would be called up later in the season for his only three major league plate appearances, in which he singled and walked, for a lifetime OBP of .667!)<br />
<br />
Hazle's baseball career after that season turned out to be no better than his efforts before that point. In April and May of 1958, he suffered from two beanings as well as an ankle injury, which kept his appearances infrequent and his performances weak. He was sold to Detroit for about five bucks and a set of Ginsu knives (actually $50,000, according to reports at the time). Detroit used him sparingly in 1958, sent him down to AAA in 1959, and when he showed no sign of the old pop in his bat, demoted him to AA in 1960. He retired after that season. In Lee Heiman's 1990 book "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/When-Cheering-Stops-Ex-Major-Leaguers/dp/0025507656">When the Cheering Stops</a>," Hazle is quoted as saying, "My confidence was shot. In the majors, you have it all built up inside you. But when you end up back in the minors there’s the small ballparks again with no one coming out. It’s very discouraging. And even though I was hitting well (in 1960), I just didn’t feel I would ever get another chance. And as it turned out, I was right." As McGuire and Gormley pointed out in their profile of Hazle in "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Moments-Sun-Baseballs-Briefly-Famous/dp/078640549X">Moments in the Sun: Baseball's Briefly Famous</a>," he retired without losing the conviction that he still had major league talent, but at 29, lacked "the vinegar, the intensity" to fight his way back upward. He had first played AA ball in 1951, at the age of 20, and it was disheartening to find himself back there nine years later, especially after having tasted major league stardom, however briefly.<br />
<br />
He retired as the answer to a puzzling trivia question which should win many a bar bet: "Among all the position players who have ever played major league ball, who is the only lifetime .300 hitter who never had a season in the .300s?" Hazle finished with an impressive .310 lifetime average, based on one season in the .400s and two in the .200s. That .310 figure is higher than the lifetime averages of Pete Rose, Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle or Hank Aaron - and pretty much anyone else who played the game. If Hazle had enough at-bats to make <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/leaders/batting_avg_career.shtml">the list</a>, he'd be just outside the top one hundred of all time.
<br />
<br />
Hazle was not forgotten by those who love the game. Blogger <a href="http://boblemke.blogspot.com/2014/09/my-hurricane-hazle-custom-in-1956-topps.html">Bob Lemke has recounted his entertaining encounter with the Hurricane</a> at a card show in the late 80s. That blog post also includes a rare photo of Hazle in his late 50s. Lemke has actually gone to the trouble of creating some custom baseball cards for the one-year wonder. The following mock-ups picture Hazle in the style of the Topps cards from (top to bottom) 1955, 1956 and 1959.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPww2TkUbRFlOAhne2ePnq76HSGeeJDy-aWR46fnWtBK2H-vqRBBRL54Ry_wgQ61VEr04hTjjhruA9D9LuqF_rcGEfhIOwLMR_LFWZO0nV3sBUSi0xs6Hh0bqhS9XDCegCb7OMqD83qMY/s1600/hazle_custom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" width="660" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPww2TkUbRFlOAhne2ePnq76HSGeeJDy-aWR46fnWtBK2H-vqRBBRL54Ry_wgQ61VEr04hTjjhruA9D9LuqF_rcGEfhIOwLMR_LFWZO0nV3sBUSi0xs6Hh0bqhS9XDCegCb7OMqD83qMY/s1600/hazle_custom.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The Hurricane was especially well remembered and loved in Milwaukee for having led the Braves to their one and only World Championship in that city. One of his young fans in that triumphant year, David Lamb, grew up to author a book called "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/A-Sense-Place-Listening-Americans/dp/0812921593">A Sense of Place: Listening to Americans</a>." That book really has little to do with baseball, but Bob Hazle became the subject of one of its most poignant chapters, a tale of how Lamb's boyhood favorite became just another survivor, his nose to the grindstone alongside the rest of us, after his glory days had been all but forgotten. After the baseball years, Hazle returned to the small towns of South Carolina whence he sprang. There he became a salesman, trying his hand at insurance and tombstones before finding his niche as the sales rep for a liquor distributor that serviced every local hole-in-the-wall selling booze. Lamb wrote, "His '82 Buick Regal, air conditioner purring, windows rolled up to keep out the heavy, damp, noontime heat, speeds on toward the one-room whiskey stores ahead, carrying a man in pursuit of his livelihood, if not his dreams."<br />
<br />
Or as John Mellencamp summed it up in a famous song lyric, "Oh, yeah, life goes on, long after the thrill of livin' is gone."<br />
<br />
Hazle had a heart attack in 1981, followed by open-heart surgery, after which his wife declared “The Hurricane, these days … is really just a gentle breeze.” In 1992 he suffered a second heart attack, and the winds were forever becalmed.<br />
<br />
Whatever hard times and ordinary times befell him in his last thirty-five years, the fact remains that he was right there in the national spotlight in 1957, laughing and winning alongside Eddie, Hammerin' Hank, Spahnie and the rest, as the boys from Bushville won a pennant and then defeated the mighty Yankees in the World Series.
<br />
<br />
In fact, I just misspoke. The Hurricane wasn't really "alongside" those stars. He led the charge.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiklqef9_jMLGVa5699MdPblEXGjGNYScfAxdp0q203cGATiQyAGC__kwl8z_U7v6mGrDgvkZL8bR7pKSlS3wu5e7RO_adUkDeInSV6a5j7AJn7RB2PaJFMcm_81oQpZxjTcqed4FKtMncz/s1600/Bob_and_Spahnie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" width="660" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiklqef9_jMLGVa5699MdPblEXGjGNYScfAxdp0q203cGATiQyAGC__kwl8z_U7v6mGrDgvkZL8bR7pKSlS3wu5e7RO_adUkDeInSV6a5j7AJn7RB2PaJFMcm_81oQpZxjTcqed4FKtMncz/s1600/Bob_and_Spahnie.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-13237674582472664832016-02-01T20:00:00.000-08:002016-02-01T20:00:22.737-08:00Park orientation and other physical specifications<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
"It is desirable that the line from home base through the pitcher's plate to second base shall run East Northeast." - Official Baseball Rules, section 1.04.<br />
<br />
It makes perfect sense to have the batter hitting toward the East-Northeast in most of the country, because winds typically come out of the Southwest in summer. That minimizes the wind effect, since the batter rarely hits into the wind, and gets little benefit from any trailing wind because he has an enormous grandstand behind him, blocking the breezes. On the other hand, it may be worth noting that the East Northeast rule was conceived before there were parks in Miami and San Diego, where the wind patterns are dramatically different. Marlins Park and Petco are laid out in reasonable compliance with rule 1.04, but perhaps they should not be. Left-handed hitters in Marlins Park hit Southeast into right center - directly into the Atlantic breezes when the roof is retracted. (This point is more theoretical than realistic because <a href="http://www.thescore.com/mlb/news/510737">Marlins management rarely opts to play a game with the roof open</a>.) Right-handed pull hitters in San Diego will find that the left field line is due Northwest from home plate, which would be nice in Miami, but is directly into the wind in San Diego. The July wind charts for these cities are shown below. (Click to enlarge and study.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0RNrsYbxbAuCdSN_bmx8XQq04q9rRhFe-7z3ywYkT7cA8rke_wQR5iOlb0H3cmFmuKMe1glp8pJaicMCLQaPrSAMVFxU7jqzOJrMsb1ZDyA2i_t_8zLrbDSSp9BYrctXE4eebbLhABDhu/s1600/coastal_winds_july.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0RNrsYbxbAuCdSN_bmx8XQq04q9rRhFe-7z3ywYkT7cA8rke_wQR5iOlb0H3cmFmuKMe1glp8pJaicMCLQaPrSAMVFxU7jqzOJrMsb1ZDyA2i_t_8zLrbDSSp9BYrctXE4eebbLhABDhu/s1600/coastal_winds_july.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The chart below shows the orientation of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Major_League_Baseball_stadiums">major league ballparks</a>, the distance of the fences, and the height of the fences (parens following distance). If the centerfield dimension contains two numbers, the first is the distance to straightaway center, and the second is the deepest part of the park.<br />
<br />
PF (HR) represents the 2014-2015 park factor for home runs only, expressed as a percent. The split is LH/RH. In order to be listed as having a significant impact, the park must have shown at least a 10% effect in that direction in both years. An "x" indicates that there was no statistically significant trend. The raw data comes from <a href="http://www.baseballprospectus.com/sortable/index.php?cid=1824888">baseballprospectus.com</a>.<br />
<br />
<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="5">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="#ffffff" valign="top"><span style="color: black;"><b>Ballpark
Orientations</b><b> (Google Maps)<br />
</b> </span></td>
<td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff" valign="top"><span style="color: black;"> <b>PF (HR)</b></span></td>
<td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff" valign="top"><span style="color: black;"><b>Center</b><b><br />
</b> </span></td>
<td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff" valign="top"><span style="color: black;"><b>LF line</b><b><br />
</b> </span></td>
<td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff" valign="top"><b><span style="color: black;">RF line</span></b><b><br />
</b> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="#6666cc" colspan="5" rowspan="1" valign="top">Parks
where
the batter hits approximately due north to straightaway
center</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">North</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">NW</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">NE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Coors+Field/@39.7561018,-104.9942616,199m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x171cc328e114d9de%216m1%211e1">Coors
Field,
Denver</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">+26/+32</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">415 (8)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">347 (8)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">350 (17)</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Chase+Field/@33.4452975,-112.0666679,216m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x6638344b3ba1625e%216m1%211e1">Chase
Field,
Phoenix</a> Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">407 (25)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330 (8)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">335 (8)</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Progressive+Field/@41.4959078,-81.6852504,193m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x52dcb50dc0cf3385%216m1%211e1">Progressive
Field,
Cleveland</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">405/410 (8)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">325 (19)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">325 (8)</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Petco+Park/@32.7073388,-117.1570121,217m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xb5f26fd04a32ce5c%216m1%211e1">Petco
Park,
San Diego</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">396 (7)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">334 (4)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">322 (12)</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Rogers+Centre/@43.6410332,-79.3890456,375m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xe210b2f6fe0b1405%216m1%211e1">Rogers
Centre,
Toronto </a>Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">400 (10)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">328 <span style="text-align: left;">(10)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">328 <span style="text-align: left;">(10)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="#6666cc" colspan="5" rowspan="1" valign="top">Parks
where
the batter hits approximately north by northeast (22.5
degrees azimuth) to straightaway center</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">NNE</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">NNW</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">ENE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Wrigley+Field/@41.9481511,-87.6555044,192m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x1cea3ee176ddd646%216m1%211e1">Wrigley
Field,
Chicago</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/+29</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">412 <span style="text-align: left;">(11)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">355 <span style="text-align: left;">(15)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">353 <span style="text-align: left;">(15)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Turner+Field/@33.7352184,-84.3896886,215m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xf9c86cfe1420736f%216m1%211e1">Turner
Field,
Atlanta</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">400<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">335<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Oriole+Park+at+Camden+Yards/@39.2838149,-76.621737,200m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x2428d93f0397c539%216m1%211e1">Camden
Yards,
Baltimore</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">+29/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">400 (7)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">333 (7)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">318 (25)</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Nationals+Park/@38.8728139,-77.0073149,202m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x60faf9c5954e6d8b%216m1%211e1">Nationals
Park,
D.C.</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">402 (12)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">337 (8)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">335 (12)</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Nationals+Park/@38.8728139,-77.0073149,202m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x60faf9c5954e6d8b%216m1%211e1">Dodger
Stadium,
L.A </a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">400<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(4)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(4)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Citi+Field/@40.7570877,-73.8458213,196m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xf55b95d4f099763b%216m1%211e1">Citi
Field,
New York</a> (Queens)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">408<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">335 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Citizens+Bank+Park/@39.905817,-75.1665697,198m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x90212debd7535fa%216m1%211e1">Citizens
Band
Park, Philadelphia</a> *</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/+40</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">401/409<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(6)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">329 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(9)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(13)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="5" rowspan="1" valign="top">* Note: centerfield
in Citizens Band Park is not quite north or NNE, but
actually about 13 degrees azimuth - about halfway between
NNE and north</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="#6666cc" colspan="5" rowspan="1" valign="top">Parks
where
the
batter hits approximately northeast (45) to straightaway
center, therefore due north to the left field line, due east
to right</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">NE</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">North</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">East</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Fenway+Park/@42.3466764,-71.0972178,191m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xa2800dcb647a5504%216m1%211e1">Fenway
Park,
Boston</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-31/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">390/420<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(9)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">310 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(37)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">302 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(5)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Fenway+Park/@42.3466764,-71.0972178,191m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xa2800dcb647a5504%216m1%211e1">Kauffman
Stadium,
KC</a> </td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-14/-22</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">410<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(9)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(9)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(9)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Angel+Stadium+of+Anaheim/@33.800308,-117.8827321,215m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x2d8fe2eb50c3667a%216m1%211e1">Angel
Stadium,
Anaheim</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-22/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">396 <span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">347 <span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">350 <span style="text-align: left;">(18)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Safeco+Field/@47.5914502,-122.3323588,174m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xc6f829b3a6a6fd95%216m1%211e1">Safeco
Field,
Seattle </a>Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">401 <span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">331 <span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">326 <span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Tropicana+Field/@27.7681402,-82.6533894,229m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x9eacaa905938efdd%216m1%211e1">Tropicana
Field,
Tampa-St. Pete</a> Domed</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/-15</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">404 (10)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">315 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(10)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">322 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(10)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="#6666cc" colspan="5" rowspan="1" valign="top">Parks
where
the batter hits approximately east by northeast (67.5) to
straightaway center - as suggested by the rule book!</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">ENE</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">NNE</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">ESE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/@38.6226188,-90.1928209,202m/data=%213m1%211e3">Busch
Stadium,
St.L.</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">400<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(9)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">336<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(9)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">335<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(9)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Yankee+Stadium/@40.8295695,-73.9263328,196m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x4940c3d9559a1e08%216m1%211e1">Oakland
Coliseum,
Oakland</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/-16</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">400<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Yankee+Stadium/@40.8295695,-73.9263328,196m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x4940c3d9559a1e08%216m1%211e1">Yankee
Stadium,
NY</a> (Bronx)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">+54/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">408 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(14)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">318<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">314<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(10)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="#6666cc" colspan="5" rowspan="1" valign="top">Parks
where
the batter hits approximately due east (90) to straightaway
center</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">East</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">NE</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">SE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/@44.9816528,-93.2777764,183m/data=%213m1%211e3">Target
Field,
Minneapolis</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">403/411 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(7)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">339<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(13)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">328<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(23)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/@44.9816528,-93.2777764,183m/data=%213m1%211e3">AT&T
Park,
San Francisco</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-44/-31</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">399/421<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">339<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">309<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(25)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="#6666cc" colspan="5" rowspan="1" valign="top">Parks
where
the batter hits approximately east by southeast (112.5) to
straightaway center</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">ESE</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">ENE</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">SSE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/PNC+Park/@40.4468548,-80.0056657,196m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xba01812d7ac02319%216m1%211e1">PNC
Park,
Pittsburgh</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-<span style="text-align: left;">x/x</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">399/410 (10)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">325 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(6)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">320 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(21)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Great+American+Ball+Park/@39.0970591,-84.5066946,201m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x7638b0b25d4ed72%216m1%211e1">The
Great
American Ballpark, Cincinnati</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">+30/+14</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">404<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">328<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(12)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">325 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="#6666cc" colspan="5" rowspan="1" valign="top">Parks
where
the batter hits approximately southeast (135) to
straightaway center, therefore due east to left, due south
to right</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">SE</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">East</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">South</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/U.S.+Cellular+Field/@41.8298896,-87.6334846,193m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x2f864f668f4a90b8%216m1%211e1">U.S.
Cellular
Field, Chicago</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">400<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">335<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Marlins+Park/@25.7780542,-80.2197325,232m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x77bf55a8ac3f8e86%216m1%211e1">Marlins
Park,
Miami*</a> Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-30/-20</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">407<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">344<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">335 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Globe+Life+Park+In+Arlington/@32.7509557,-97.0824426,219m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x70ad41a27e645d8c%216m1%211e1">Globe
Life
Ballpark, Arlington</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">x/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">400/407 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">332 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(14)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">325 <span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Miller+Park/@43.0279778,-87.9711504,189m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xc1b447de9450d0b4%216m1%211e1">Miller
Park,
Milwaukee</a> Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">+59/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">400<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(10)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">344<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(10)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">345<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(10)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="5" rowspan="1" valign="top">* Note: Marlins Park
is quite a few degrees from southeast, but is not any closer
to east by southeast</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="#6666cc" colspan="5" rowspan="1" valign="top">Parks
where
the batter hits approximately south by southeast (157.5) to
straightaway center</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">SSE</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">ESE</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">SSW</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Comerica+Park/@42.3389984,-83.0485197,192m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xa8b2cd410bd9905e%216m1%211e1">Comerica
Park,
Detroit</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">-24/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">420<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">345<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">330<span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">(8)</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="#6666cc" colspan="5" rowspan="1" valign="top">Parks
where
the batter hits approximately north by northwest (337.5) to
straightaway center.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">NNW</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">WNW</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">NNE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Minute+Maid+Park/@29.7569873,-95.3555529,224m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m6%211m3%213m2%211s0x0:0x81457f66271a17e1%212sMinute+Maid+Park%213m1%211s0x0:0x81457f66271a17e1%216m1%211e1">Minute
Maid
Park, Houston</a> Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">+23/x</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">409 (9)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">315 (21)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">326 (7)</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The following shows the average (summer) climate factors for the major league stadiums. Covered stadiums are always shown as 72 degrees and zero wind. The typical wind direction for any city in any month may be obtained through the <a href="http://www.wcc.nrcs.usda.gov/climate/windrose.html">NRCS</a>. Extremes are highlighted in red.<br />
<br />
<center>
<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="5">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="#ffffff" valign="top"><span style="color: black;"><b>Ballpark
Orientations</b><b> (Google Maps)<br />
</b> </span></td>
<td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff" valign="top"><span style="color: black;"><b>Avg July temp</b><b><br />
</b> </span></td>
<td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff" valign="top"><span style="color: black;"><b>Avg July wind</b><b><br />
</b> </span></td>
<td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff" valign="top"><b><span style="color: black;">Elevation</span></b><b><br />
</b> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Coors+Field/@39.7561018,-104.9942616,199m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x171cc328e114d9de%216m1%211e1">Coors
Field,
Denver</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">73</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">8</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: red;">5100</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Chase+Field/@33.4452975,-112.0666679,216m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x6638344b3ba1625e%216m1%211e1">Chase
Field,
Phoenix</a> Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">72</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1100</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Progressive+Field/@41.4959078,-81.6852504,193m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x52dcb50dc0cf3385%216m1%211e1">Progressive
Field,
Cleveland</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">72</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">8</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">800</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Petco+Park/@32.7073388,-117.1570121,217m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xb5f26fd04a32ce5c%216m1%211e1">Petco
Park,
San
Diego</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">71</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">6</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Rogers+Centre/@43.6410332,-79.3890456,375m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xe210b2f6fe0b1405%216m1%211e1">Rogers
Centre,
Toronto
</a>Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">72</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">600<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Wrigley+Field/@41.9481511,-87.6555044,192m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x1cea3ee176ddd646%216m1%211e1">Wrigley
Field,
Chicago</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">73<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">9<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">600<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Turner+Field/@33.7352184,-84.3896886,215m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xf9c86cfe1420736f%216m1%211e1">Turner
Field,
Atlanta</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">80<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">7<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1000<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Oriole+Park+at+Camden+Yards/@39.2838149,-76.621737,200m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x2428d93f0397c539%216m1%211e1">Camden
Yards,
Baltimore</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">76</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">7</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">100</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Nationals+Park/@38.8728139,-77.0073149,202m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x60faf9c5954e6d8b%216m1%211e1">Nationals
Park,
D.C.</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">79</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">6</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Nationals+Park/@38.8728139,-77.0073149,202m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x60faf9c5954e6d8b%216m1%211e1">Dodger
Stadium,
L.A
</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">74<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">8<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">100<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Citi+Field/@40.7570877,-73.8458213,196m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xf55b95d4f099763b%216m1%211e1">Citi
Field,
New
York</a> (Queens)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">75<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">6<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Citizens+Bank+Park/@39.905817,-75.1665697,198m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x90212debd7535fa%216m1%211e1">Citizens
Band
Park,
Philadelphia</a> *</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">78<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">9<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Fenway+Park/@42.3466764,-71.0972178,191m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xa2800dcb647a5504%216m1%211e1">Fenway
Park,
Boston</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">74<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: red;">11</span><span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Fenway+Park/@42.3466764,-71.0972178,191m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xa2800dcb647a5504%216m1%211e1">Kauffman
Stadium,
KC</a> </td>
<td align="center" valign="top">78<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">9<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1000<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Angel+Stadium+of+Anaheim/@33.800308,-117.8827321,215m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x2d8fe2eb50c3667a%216m1%211e1">Angel
Stadium,
Anaheim</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">74<span style="text-align: left;"></span><span style="text-align: left;"> <br />
</span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">7<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">100<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Safeco+Field/@47.5914502,-122.3323588,174m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xc6f829b3a6a6fd95%216m1%211e1">Safeco
Field,
Seattle
</a>Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">72<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">400<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Tropicana+Field/@27.7681402,-82.6533894,229m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x9eacaa905938efdd%216m1%211e1">Tropicana
Field,
Tampa-St.
Pete</a> Domed</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">72</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/@38.6226188,-90.1928209,202m/data=%213m1%211e3">Busch
Stadium,
St.L.</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">80<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">8<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">600<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Yankee+Stadium/@40.8295695,-73.9263328,196m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x4940c3d9559a1e08%216m1%211e1">Oakland
Coliseum,
Oakland</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: red;">61</span><span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: red;">10</span><span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Yankee+Stadium/@40.8295695,-73.9263328,196m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x4940c3d9559a1e08%216m1%211e1">Yankee
Stadium,
NY</a> (Bronx)</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">75<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">6<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/@44.9816528,-93.2777764,183m/data=%213m1%211e3">Target
Field,
Minneapolis</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">73<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">9<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">800<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/@44.9816528,-93.2777764,183m/data=%213m1%211e3">AT&T
Park,
San
Francisco</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: red;">63</span><span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: red;">13</span><span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/PNC+Park/@40.4468548,-80.0056657,196m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xba01812d7ac02319%216m1%211e1">PNC
Park,
Pittsburgh</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">73</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">8<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1200<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Great+American+Ball+Park/@39.0970591,-84.5066946,201m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x7638b0b25d4ed72%216m1%211e1">The
Great
American
Ballpark, Cincinnati</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">76<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">5<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">800<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/U.S.+Cellular+Field/@41.8298896,-87.6334846,193m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x2f864f668f4a90b8%216m1%211e1">U.S.
Cellular
Field,
Chicago</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">73<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">9<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">600<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Marlins+Park/@25.7780542,-80.2197325,232m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x77bf55a8ac3f8e86%216m1%211e1">Marlins
Park,
Miami*</a> Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">72<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Globe+Life+Park+In+Arlington/@32.7509557,-97.0824426,219m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0x70ad41a27e645d8c%216m1%211e1">Globe
Life
Ballpark,
Arlington</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><span style="color: red;">86</span><span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">7<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">600<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Miller+Park/@43.0279778,-87.9711504,189m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xc1b447de9450d0b4%216m1%211e1">Miller
Park,
Milwaukee</a> Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">72<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">700<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Comerica+Park/@42.3389984,-83.0485197,192m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m2%213m1%211s0x0:0xa8b2cd410bd9905e%216m1%211e1">Comerica
Park,
Detroit</a></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">74<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">9<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">600<span style="text-align: left;"></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Minute+Maid+Park/@29.7569873,-95.3555529,224m/data=%213m1%211e3%214m6%211m3%213m2%211s0x0:0x81457f66271a17e1%212sMinute+Maid+Park%213m1%211s0x0:0x81457f66271a17e1%216m1%211e1">Minute
Maid
Park,
Houston</a> Retractable</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">72</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">100</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Normal range</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">71-80</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0-9</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">0-1200</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center>
<br /><br />
Summary for 2014-2015:<br />
<br />
Parks favorable to all home run hitters: Coors Field, The Great American Ballpark<br />
<br />
Parks favorable to right-handed home run hitters: Citizens Band Park, Wrigley Field<br />
<br />
Parks favorable to left-handed home run hitters: Miller Park, Yankee Stadium, Camden Yards<br />
<br />
Parks unfavorable to all home run hitters: AT&T Park, Marlins Park<br />
<br />
Parks unfavorable to right-handed home run hitters: Tropicana Field, Oakland Coliseum<br />
<br />
Parks unfavorable to left-handed home run hitters: Fenway Park, Angel Stadium<br />
<br />
Most major league franchises now do a significant amount of statistical analysis, and generally use their data to neutralize their parks to whatever extent is reasonably possible, that is to say, they try to make them extremely friendly neither to hitters nor pitchers. For example, if there are too many homers, management may raise or extend the fences; if there are have too few homers, they may block the wind or bring the fences in. Because of this constant tinkering, some of the more extreme park effects have been neutralized, so places like Citi Field, Petco, Safeco and even venerable Wrigley Field seem to be closer to neutral than in the past. You can bet that other places like Marlins Park and Comerica, and maybe even Yankee Stadium, will experience some tinkering in the future.<br /><br />
In some cases, it would be impossible to create anything close to a neutral ballpark on the existing site.
<ul><li>Denver's altitude is a permanent fixture, and they have no plans to move the fences back any farther than they are. Only the remodeled Wrigley is farther down the lines. It would make perfect sense to make the fences at Coors 375' away along the lines, but it is unlikely to happen because it just doesn't seem sufficiently traditional.
<li>The Dallas area is not going to get moderate temperatures in summer. That's the only remaining place in the country where major league baseball is constantly played in intense heat, now that the teams in Tampa, Miami, Houston and Phoenix are all playing indoors. Given that the Arlington stadium is quite new, the Rangers will probably not be getting a roof any time soon.
<li>You may think of California as a warm place, and it is in general, but the San Francisco Bay area is the coldest and windiest major urban area in the contiguous United States in the summer. On an average July day, it's ten degrees colder in San Francisco than in "frigid" Minneapolis, and that's excluding the wind-chill, which would make the gap even wider! Like the Texas Rangers, the Giants and As are not going to be playing in neutral weather conditions unless they play in an indoor stadium. That means that AT&T Park will undoubtedly continue to be a right-handed pitcher's dream for many years. As for Oakland, who knows? The fate of that team and that stadium has been the subject of an ongoing debate for as long as I can remember.
<li>It seems that iconic Fenway Park will continue to be an extremely negative venue for left-handed power. The right field line in Fenway is already the shortest in the majors, and the fence ... well, you probably have a higher fence in your back yard, so there just doesn't seem to be any additional way to help lefties out. Coors and Fenway face the same problem in opposite directions. Neither a 375' line not a 280' one provide a credible solution which is consistent with MLB's overall presentation. Both solutions could be quite logical, but they just aren't going to happen, especially in a park whose dimensions are considered to be a cultural treasure that connects today's baseball to the game's storied past.
</ul>
<br /><br />
In some other cases, the solutions may exist, but are not immediately evident or desired.
<ul><li>Nobody has quite determined how to keep the homers from flying out of Miller Park, for example, because analysts have not yet determined why the ball flies out of there in the first place. The fences are high and distant; the climate is fully controlled; the altitude is moderate. There seems to be nothing about the location favorable to flight distance. In fact, the previous ballpark, which was literally on the adjoining lot, was a pitchers' park.
<li>In my opinion, the Royals will not tinker with Kauffman Park for a long time. They currently have a team built around small ball. Almost every visiting team has more home run power than the Royals, so the fact that their stadium suppresses homers works in their favor. If they were to somehow suddenly end up with Stanton, Harper or Trout on the team, you could bet that they would start messin' with the place.
<li>The Angels have two of the game's premier right-handed hitters on the team, and no left-handed power hitter suffering from the park. (Their only power-hitting lefty, Kole Calhoun, hits great there!) If Pujols and Trout were lefties, they'd probably be thinking about bringing in that 350' right field foul line, and/or cutting down that 18' fence in right field, but as it stands, visiting teams are likely to have more left-handed power than the Angels. Given that situation, their stadium's tendency to suppress left-handed home runs probably works to their advantage, and tinkering would produce no benefit. (The park is also slightly unfavorable to right-handed home run hitters - the tendency is small, but consistent from year-to-year.)
</ul>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-78726454980560055052016-01-21T18:20:00.000-08:002016-07-17T12:58:31.522-07:00Is Larry Walker a Hall of Famer?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
Before I begin this analysis, I'm going to stipulate that it will only deal with performance on the field. I don't know whether Larry Walker used PEDs, and I'm not sure I really care. The term PED means "performance-enhancing drugs," and steroids are just the most modern form. <a href="http://articles.latimes.com/1985-09-10/news/mn-3448_1_willie-stargell">Willie Stargell loved his amphetamines</a>. Even the sainted Hank Aaron had to admit in his autobiography ("<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Had-Hammer-Hank-Aaron-Story/dp/0061373605">I Had a Hammer</a>") that he once took an amphetamine pill before a game. Before the age of drugs, there were <a href="https://padresteve.com/2013/01/11/cheaters-and-the-baseball-hall-of-fame-the-hypocrisy-and-arrogance-of-the-baseball-writers-of-the-bbwaa/">plenty of other forms of cheating</a>. Hitters used corked bats. Pitchers like Gaylord Perry cheated their way into the Hall of Fame with all kinds of shenanigans. <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1991/07/28/sports/sports-of-the-times-the-spitter-versus-the-hustler.html">Rogers Hornsby told True magazine</a> in 1961, "I’ve been in pro baseball since 1914 and I’ve cheated, or watched someone on my team cheat, in practically every game. You’ve got to cheat.” King Kelly and John McGraw practically invented baseball cheating, and their plaques are in the Hall of Fame right next to the straight shooters.<br />
<br />
So you guys debate that issue amongst yourselves. I'm only going to address <u>what</u> Walker accomplished, not <u>how</u>.
<br />
<br />
When I started to assemble this data, I was predisposed to think that Walker didn't have the right stuff. After all, his creditable lifetime numbers are heavily influenced by the time he spent at Coors Field, and he owned that joint. In 1999, when he ripped National League pitching for a career high .379 average, the fourth highest batting average since Ted Williams retired, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=walkela01&year=1999&t=b">he batted only .286 on the road, with a measly 11 homers</a>. He batted .461 at Coors that year, with 26 homers and a 1.410 OPS. That kind of information led me to believe that Walker was vastly overrated.<br />
<br />
After having considered the matter in more depth, however, all the while trying to keep my mind open and my eyes on the big picture, I now believe that Walker is a legitimate candidate for the Hall.<br />
<br />
Consider three men with similar levels of achievement: <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/walkela01.shtml">Larry Walker</a>, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/k/kleinch01.shtml">Chuck Klein</a> and <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/snidedu01.shtml">Duke Snider</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0fxzQMahbjTCaedvTSfM2DxDm92o4D5D3Xg5qfHojxvzPlLcDEcxnDOgKdz96GuYP62ACH_VBAWGU4-LMdrSzcbu9G_-VN7L__NTOrqbiBXVVYk5CnkUKqTVm_WVB96HjGnf_24Mv9GGW/s1600/walker-klein-snyder-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0fxzQMahbjTCaedvTSfM2DxDm92o4D5D3Xg5qfHojxvzPlLcDEcxnDOgKdz96GuYP62ACH_VBAWGU4-LMdrSzcbu9G_-VN7L__NTOrqbiBXVVYk5CnkUKqTVm_WVB96HjGnf_24Mv9GGW/s1600/walker-klein-snyder-1.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Baseball-Reference.com lists Snider and Klein among <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/friv/scomp_bat.cgi?I=walkela01:Larry%20Walker&st=career&compage=&age=">the ten players most similar to Walker</a>. Snider and Walker are very similar. In fact, Baseball Reference lists Snider as the most comparable retired player. I chose to add Klein to the comparison because he is a Hall of Famer and he, like Walker and Snider, had career stats heavily influenced by one friendly home park. <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=kleinch01&year=Career&t=b">Chuck Klein batted .395 with power at the Baker Bowl</a>, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=walkela01&year=Career&t=b">Walker batted .381 with power at Coors</a>, and <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=snidedu01&year=Career&t=b">Snider had a .999 OPS at Ebbets Field</a>.<br />
<br />
If you look at their career stats, Walker is not only similar to the two HOFers, but actually seems a bit better.<br />
<br />
<center><table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="5">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Walker<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Snider<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Klein<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">BA<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.313<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.295<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.320<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OBP<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.400<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.380<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.379<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">SLG<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.565<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.540<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.543<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OPS<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.965<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.919<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.922<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OPS+<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">141<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">140<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">137<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">WAR<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">73<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">67<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">44<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">HR<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">383<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">407<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">300<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">RBI<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1311<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1333<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1201<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table></center><br />
<br />
The numbers above include everything Walker did at Coors Field, of course, so <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/leaders/onbase_plus_slugging_career.shtml">his lifetime .965 OPS is higher than either Ty Cobb or Willie Mays</a>. I think we all know he was not that good. But the fact that he wasn't really better than Willie Mays doesn't mean he is not a Hall of Famer. If the Hall was restricted to all players as good as or better than Willie Mays, it would be a mighty cozy place. Some might even argue that Willie would be the only member. But Walker still seems to be a Hall of Famer after the effects of Coors are factored out. Walker's similarity to Duke Snider is not just because of Coors. If you ignore what all three of the players above did in their friendly home parks and just concentrate on their performance in all other games, as summarized below, it is only Klein who drops out of contention, while Walker still comes out of it looking solid, and is still virtually identical to Snider in the key hitting indicators. His lifetime OPS outside of Coors (.876) is excellent. Eddie Mathews, for example, is at .885, and nobody would contest that he is a high-tier Hall of Famer and was a great power hitter.<br />
<br />
<center><table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="5">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Klein<br>
outside Baker Bowl<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Walker<br>
outside Coors Field<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Snider<br>
outside Ebbets Field<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">BA<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.277<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.282<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.286<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">OBP<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.339<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.375<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.372<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">SLG<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.451<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.501<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.505<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">OPS<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.790<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.876<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.877<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">HR/550<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">18<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">26<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">28<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">RBI/550<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">81<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">91<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">96<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table></center><br />
<br />
To state my case briefly, I've changed my mind. Larry Walker is almost precisely equal to Duke Snider with the bat. In addition, he was faster and stole more bases than Snider, threw out more runners with a stronger arm, and had comparable range factors on those occasions when he was called upon to play center field. Ordinarily, I would not accept the argument that "X is as good as Y, and Y is a Hall of Famer, therefore so is X" because that argument usually involves a Y who should never have been selected to the Hall in the first place. On the other hand, I am willing to take the stand for any player who is as good as somebody who BELONGS in the Hall of Fame. For example, I'm not willing to state a case for Walker based upon the fact that he was obviously a far better hitter than Chuck Klein, because Klein's credentials are suspect. On the other hand, Walker has a good case in the Duke Snider comparison, because Snider is not a bottom dweller. By any reasonable set of standards, he is an above-average member of the Hall.<br />
<br />
Here's how Baseball-Reference breaks down Snider's HOF credentials:
<ul>
<li>Black Ink Batting - 28, Average HOFer ≈ 27
<li>Gray Ink Batting - 183, Average HOFer ≈ 144
<li>Hall of Fame Monitor Batting - 152, Likely HOFer ≈ 100
<li>Hall of Fame Standards Batting - 47, Average HOFer ≈ 50
</ul><br />
<br />
In summary, I see it like this: <br />
<br />
It's not just a Coors Field issue. Of the three New York center fielders in the famous baseball song, Larry Walker was not as good a player as Willie and Mickey, but he was as good or better than the Duke, who is not only in the Hall of Fame, but definitely belongs there. Therefore, I withdraw any previous objections I have made to Walker's candidacy. I don't consider his candidacy to be a high priority, but his credentials are genuine, even for a Hall of Fame outside of Canada.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6jnbafMZqRmq9Y01OmV1iLfzCCtAm-6REvVbjLl6PWW4pQGUh0qjng9XC0BVNe_9EvPh0KwJbpSdba9u7sa9VAOPGzGOpCWAOXKK6BSU2hB8xlgeZdQbPIeNU0kryMNZZPmpJbI_Pt6vZ/s1600/walker-klein-snyder-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6jnbafMZqRmq9Y01OmV1iLfzCCtAm-6REvVbjLl6PWW4pQGUh0qjng9XC0BVNe_9EvPh0KwJbpSdba9u7sa9VAOPGzGOpCWAOXKK6BSU2hB8xlgeZdQbPIeNU0kryMNZZPmpJbI_Pt6vZ/s1600/walker-klein-snyder-2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br /><br />
<br />
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-21651656610173214072016-01-20T19:54:00.000-08:002016-01-21T16:34:38.460-08:00Did A-Rod Start Using Steroids in 2001, or earlier?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUojHp1Fbz7hxF21jaFbW_eKGtlISGDOqvsfF5u09-groh5fU1aBm5goMXbRXQy3aclaaRnBBqxhlrpDqQZb09lVFTfp3HiGkaIuiFvtziIMVbzlGjK_H6319aMjSn8AJfj-3ffi56Pzr6/s1600/aroid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUojHp1Fbz7hxF21jaFbW_eKGtlISGDOqvsfF5u09-groh5fU1aBm5goMXbRXQy3aclaaRnBBqxhlrpDqQZb09lVFTfp3HiGkaIuiFvtziIMVbzlGjK_H6319aMjSn8AJfj-3ffi56Pzr6/s1600/aroid.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<blockquote>
"If you believe he started using [PEDs] in 2001, when he said he did, you're a fool," a former teammate said. "The likelihood is that he never played a day clean in the major leagues. Why? Insecurity. Alex doesn't know how good he could be without drugs, and didn't trust himself to find out."</blockquote>
</blockquote>
<center>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.si.com/mlb/2013/08/05/alex-rodriguez-suspended-biogenesis-legacy">SI.com August 5, 2013</a></span></i></center>
<br />
The statement cited above may be based on pure speculation, unqualified amateur psychology, or hard eyewitness evidence. It may even be completely fabricated from bitterness or jealousy, for A-Rod is not widely loved in the baseball community. We do not know. What we do know is this: if <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/r/rodrial01.shtml">A-Rod</a> started using PEDs in 2001, he somehow managed to find a batch of steroids that made him worse at baseball. His record in road games gives us a reasonably objective overview because it allows us to view his performance on a level playing field.
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr align="center">
<td colspan="3" rowspan="1" valign="top"><b>Alex Rodriguez
performance in road games</b></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1998-2000 </td>
<td align="center" valign="top">2001-2003</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Last three years with Seattle</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Three years with Texas</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">HR</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">74</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">70</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">RBI</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">203</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">177</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">BA</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.328</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.278</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OBP</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.396</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.375</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">SLG</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.648</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.564</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OPS</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1.044</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.938</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">Ages</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">22-24</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">25-27</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<br />
<br />
Baseball players are supposed to be better at ages 25-27 than they are at ages 22-24. This is not a universal truth, of course. Some players do have their best years when they are very young. Hall of Famer Eddie Mathews, for example, had the best three-year period of his career between the ages of 21 and 23, but such players are exceptional. A-Rod would like us to believe that he entered his baseball prime, started taking steroids, and watched his performance decline. He would also like us to believe that he was willing to start taking steroids when the Texas contract was already signed because he didn't want to disappoint the team which had just given him an immense amount of money, but he was not willing to do so in order to get that money in the first place. He would also like you to believe that he stayed clean in the 1998 era while working in a dirty Seattle clubhouse filled with steroid users, as <a href="http://espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=3171167">confessed by Shane Monahan</a>. He would also like you to believe that he stayed clean while palling around with this guy:
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9PgHQpFkBUWDmxwScJzPmkilGyix9e10wyWT2Cvwj4DVZGBk5jO1hos_o4QkZOy7gNTlzC0tZu9sY38BHNbqqzfAAus3eU0TGa0iywegnIQ_Q0ChmNJt2fd6jxWJhO04x7LRh7aaN8fIk/s1600/alexandjose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9PgHQpFkBUWDmxwScJzPmkilGyix9e10wyWT2Cvwj4DVZGBk5jO1hos_o4QkZOy7gNTlzC0tZu9sY38BHNbqqzfAAus3eU0TGa0iywegnIQ_Q0ChmNJt2fd6jxWJhO04x7LRh7aaN8fIk/s1600/alexandjose.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
As A-Rod's former teammate said in the citation which began this article, "If you believe (that), you're a fool."<br />
<br />
Surprisingly, very few analysts have taken note of these circumstances, possibly because A-Rod's overall numbers seemed to improve when he went to Texas. That was deceptive. It happened simply because he started playing 81 games per year in a hitter's haven in Arlington instead of in his previous haunts in Seattle (the Kingdome in 1998 and half of 1999, followed by Safeco in the rest of 1999 and 2000).
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr align="center">
<td colspan="3" rowspan="1" valign="top"><b>Alex Rodriguez
performance in home games</b></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1998-2000 </td>
<td align="center" valign="top">2001-2003</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Last three years with Seattle</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Three years with Texas</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">HR</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">51</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">86</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">RBI</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">164</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">218</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">BA</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.281</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.333</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OBP</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.362</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.416</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">SLG</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.514</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.666</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OPS</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.876</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1.083</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br /></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">Ages</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">22-24</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">25-27</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<br />
<br />
His year-by-year record of road homers shows almost perfect consistency in those six years: 24-22-28 ... 26-23-21.
<br />
<br />
The same sequence in home games reveals a very different pattern: 18-20-13 ... 26-34-26
<br />
<br />
There is no evidence of a true improvement in performance after Rodriguez signed the contract with the Rangers, just a change of home parks. In my opinion, if he was using PED's in Texas (which he admits), then he must have been using them in Seattle as well.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-17913818482000499202016-01-19T23:14:00.000-08:002016-01-22T21:29:24.763-08:00The King and the Orator<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtizd51zCJPqBsPy3zb1wqCgUO4UKS6z_kxE6Qu-izqMzJlFzvXhsnjeb8iVGBJRiFc1dQ_4qX3EZSE0YVc45MvflKONpj0Gq2YYcSow-YA_NlZy315dMyKQo_YGdok2ID1MiD5xYpRvZ/s1600/TheKingandtheOrator.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtizd51zCJPqBsPy3zb1wqCgUO4UKS6z_kxE6Qu-izqMzJlFzvXhsnjeb8iVGBJRiFc1dQ_4qX3EZSE0YVc45MvflKONpj0Gq2YYcSow-YA_NlZy315dMyKQo_YGdok2ID1MiD5xYpRvZ/s1600/TheKingandtheOrator.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Looking back on it after more than 130 years, it doesn't really matter who won the National League batting championship in 1884, but it's interesting to see how we have approached that topic in our enlightened, data-obsessed era.<br />
<br />
When that season ended, the "Batting Champion," which in their time meant the man with the highest batting average, was <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/o/o'rouji01.shtml">Orator Jim O'Rourke</a>. The Spalding Guide not only noted his victory, but also felt this accomplishment was so important that they devoted a page of biographical prose to him, and accompanied it with his image, captioning it "Champion Batter of 1884."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo_nZJHLJ1yBGMJ6zl5vE-u5nL_DQ9HTmTl4JC9CTQbXqG0trBM9jlXDWXxR91d8cPh2VHBwNKpmDx-kCAEBUZlRmLxxcmK5IOzvUp69T2qrY01rAVl1l4MKpGoycNUqyZlyYSYoGqVUao/s1600/orourke2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo_nZJHLJ1yBGMJ6zl5vE-u5nL_DQ9HTmTl4JC9CTQbXqG0trBM9jlXDWXxR91d8cPh2VHBwNKpmDx-kCAEBUZlRmLxxcmK5IOzvUp69T2qrY01rAVl1l4MKpGoycNUqyZlyYSYoGqVUao/s1600/orourke2.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The tribute was followed by a leaderboard, showing that James "Orator Jim" O'Rourke had batted .350, narrowly defeating <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/suttoez01.shtml">Ezra "No Colorful Nickname" Sutton</a>, who had batted .349. <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/k/kellyki01.shtml">Mike "King" Kelly</a>, although not yet crowned with that title, was third at .341. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ufRbvYLdyFMOwAF98CHPimJxcgZcHFKC5GEu2ZMqUKlKAXUNnaEFXbY_nyi1OHmHBvqrnqeNLbs6j3883KsXktQ_3fXvGwO3S727WYSiCNB-pysoFlwZe1U-hUvXDKg6p0WfaAzAvASZ/s1600/orourke3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ufRbvYLdyFMOwAF98CHPimJxcgZcHFKC5GEu2ZMqUKlKAXUNnaEFXbY_nyi1OHmHBvqrnqeNLbs6j3883KsXktQ_3fXvGwO3S727WYSiCNB-pysoFlwZe1U-hUvXDKg6p0WfaAzAvASZ/s1600/orourke3.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
O'Rourke and everyone else alive at that time went to their graves thinking that Orator Jim had won that title. My 1959 Encyclopedia of Baseball still lists him on top with that average. As baseball researchers became more diligent, however, men started to comb through the old box scores to see if there had been any mistakes, and by golly, there had been a few that year, causing a new king to be crowned, King Kelly I. O'Rourke did finish a point ahead of Ezra Ballou "<a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a4/Ezra_Sutton.jpg/220px-Ezra_Sutton.jpg">I Look Like an Accountant</a>" Sutton in the revised calculations, with each of them dropping three points to .347 and .346, but the contemporary tabulations had apparently managed to understate Mike Kelly's average by 13 points, so <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/leagues/NL/1884-batting-leaders.shtml">his upwardly adjusted .354 now tops the list</a>.<br />
<br />
So, tough break, O'Rourke.<br />
<br />
In a sense it's a shame that Kelly wasn't considered the champ at the time, because it would have been interesting to see what the page of biographical prose would have looked like. You can see that O'Rourke's bio notes that he is a high-minded and responsible man of integrity who helped little old ladies across the street and spent his off-season shielding those adorable baby seals from being clubbed to death.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8IQ23Rq39IxCC9SShCCDIeanxYYS_XAcen0mGWQb3xgIto2EFqWZc_DifDph1kHGNmya4fcladjJA49ODWalR7-L9d5k_9nYowDmMwXyIk3Zq9DMxGsR5e3vm9zs27muQB9Xncx304Y7j/s1600/kelly_suit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8IQ23Rq39IxCC9SShCCDIeanxYYS_XAcen0mGWQb3xgIto2EFqWZc_DifDph1kHGNmya4fcladjJA49ODWalR7-L9d5k_9nYowDmMwXyIk3Zq9DMxGsR5e3vm9zs27muQB9Xncx304Y7j/s1600/kelly_suit.jpg" /></a></div>
Kelly, on the other hand, was somewhat less of a gentle humanitarian. He was famous for many other things unrelated to his unquestioned superlative ability to hit a baseball. In the off-season he went touring on the vaudeville circuit as a performer. He eventually became <a href="http://www.thenationalpastimemuseum.com/article/king-kelly-baseballs-first-celebrity">the 19th century equivalent of a rock star</a> after he was sold to Boston, where they love handsome and jovial Irish redheads more than just about any other place on earth - and handsome he was!<br />
<br />
He was also the first ball player to write <a href="http://www.amazon.com/22Play-Ball-22-Historical-Writings-McFarland/dp/0786423633">an autobiography</a>, and is credited with having invented the hook slide, that innovation even having inspired <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MKXOB_dIWg">a popular song</a>.<br />
<br />
But he also regularly led the league in two less desirable categories: cheating and drinking.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Many people think that John McGraw and the Orioles of the 90s were the true innovators of baseball shenanigans, but those guys were only refining Kelly's tricks. In fact, the practice of skipping a base when the umpire wasn't looking was referred to in the old newspapers as "the old Kelly trick." One of Kelly's innovations was one we used to use on the schoolyards when I was a kid: the third base coach would get the pitcher to toss the ball in his direction, putatively to check it for defects of some kind, while time was still in, thus allowing the runner on third to score.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4VaFV48eUzR8RouuGtyrjv6KFBQ8Yw7f4VMiCtvpGw4Q3Sj-KzQEkllQnj0motQD8-XPOOJWK0QChMytr_ezUfuLE2I9SF1VLJ-5CupcgZtJJxJMo_J1bc2zxjG6-lS9U-Iw9ZdcyHuHD/s1600/The_Kelly_Tricks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4VaFV48eUzR8RouuGtyrjv6KFBQ8Yw7f4VMiCtvpGw4Q3Sj-KzQEkllQnj0motQD8-XPOOJWK0QChMytr_ezUfuLE2I9SF1VLJ-5CupcgZtJJxJMo_J1bc2zxjG6-lS9U-Iw9ZdcyHuHD/s1600/The_Kelly_Tricks.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Edward Achorn wrote of Kelly in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fifty-nine-84-Radbourn-Barehanded-Baseball/dp/0061825875">his book about the 1884 season</a>, "He cheated - frequently, outrageously, and almost unbelievably. As a catcher, he threw his clunky mask in front of runners trying to score, hoping to make them stumble before they reached the plate. As a runner, he readily blocked fielders from making plays; as a fielder, he shoved and tripped men racing past him."<br />
<br />
Kelly was one of the best base-stealers of his time. I get the impression that was probably literally true. I picture his apartment filled with the bases he stole from every park in the league.<br />
<br />
Kelly's shenanigans sometimes went beyond mischief. In September of 1882, playing in a critical game against the Providence Grays, Kelly broke up a double play by leaving the base line and punching George Wright in the shoulder as he was about to throw. That understandably upset the Providence manager, even more so because it happened to be George's brother, Harry. Kelly didn't bother to deny having done that, and he actually tried to justify it, basically by telling the dignified Wright to grow a pair because the great Kelly was a professional whose job was to win games, and was doing what he needed to do. According to Kelly in his autobiography (see below), he talked it out with ol' Harry and they became best buds. That is actually possible, because the King was a charmer, a good ol' boy who was well liked by fans and his fellow players. Most of his contemporaries knew that his skullduggery was just part of the rough-and-tumble game that was played in those days, and that Kelly just happened to be an exceptionally clever guy who was better than most at circumventing the rules.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkCbIqdz-HdnWs70sFda9sh_8JxNBPzdQ2GK7ThDsQcTCWkbq3oc_AbsAFgLVJzYtwOnWreiInhBbNdd8K05MchM47NkEw9ZYFI4tp5PSZvulzHOC4WcHxpOMHv4BnuBQdlbKLAV5lGEq/s1600/kelly2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkCbIqdz-HdnWs70sFda9sh_8JxNBPzdQ2GK7ThDsQcTCWkbq3oc_AbsAFgLVJzYtwOnWreiInhBbNdd8K05MchM47NkEw9ZYFI4tp5PSZvulzHOC4WcHxpOMHv4BnuBQdlbKLAV5lGEq/s1600/kelly2.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Kelly's drinking was even more impressive than his chicanery. Howard Rosenberg wrote, in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/0972557423">his book about the rule-breaking in early baseball</a>: "In 1898, Boston National League Director William H. Conant would recall having paid, around the time of the 1891 payment, a $200 bar bill for Kelly and friends and being forwarded, on a visit to the bar later that night, another Kelly tab for $140." The <a href="http://www.westegg.com/inflation/">inflation calculator</a> tells us "What cost $340 in 1891 would cost $9046.05 in 2015." Nine grand! Now THAT is a bar tab.<br />
<br />
Poor, deposed Orator Jim was <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/b7e9aba2">nowhere near as colorful or as handsome</a> as King Kelly, and the only big tab he seems to have run up was in moustache wax, which he apparently offset by holding down his spending on combs and hair tonic.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzhxjwu65inMJUbeRcYCaViWsBElMSyDpH-iMzRbn__Ay538LW93RjPF7eFs8qQNs0WgxOSkokov5A5-_hOxoVcqfwb701LpjHnju2XKxLMtYUrUB0AbdFIVfs-pqYw2V_jIcjpw5lTNWK/s1600/orourke_moustacheandcomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzhxjwu65inMJUbeRcYCaViWsBElMSyDpH-iMzRbn__Ay538LW93RjPF7eFs8qQNs0WgxOSkokov5A5-_hOxoVcqfwb701LpjHnju2XKxLMtYUrUB0AbdFIVfs-pqYw2V_jIcjpw5lTNWK/s1600/orourke_moustacheandcomb.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjI13TcgzzwgF-mvXGZ-N_5AicBfiI_OtWoxI902RmHV5YBlEW7JVg3NYgCBW-VXoqGwJAGpbUXBQhq6NYZ0gshIFDK6wU77uhEdxXkZ1dMivq2Js6YsNF2xwt_c2NRDa-PskHVE62TTK/s1600/ORourke_statue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjI13TcgzzwgF-mvXGZ-N_5AicBfiI_OtWoxI902RmHV5YBlEW7JVg3NYgCBW-VXoqGwJAGpbUXBQhq6NYZ0gshIFDK6wU77uhEdxXkZ1dMivq2Js6YsNF2xwt_c2NRDa-PskHVE62TTK/s200/ORourke_statue.jpg" /></a></div>
He was probably best known for being an excellent speller and flossing regularly. O'Rourke took such good care of his health that he was 39 years old when he achieved his major league highs in hits, doubles, homers and RBI. He batted .360 that year, with 115 RBI in only 111 games. He got his last major league hit at age 53. Two years after that, he came to the plate 348 times in the minors for Bridgeport, in the same town where he was born and eventually died. He played his last minor league game at age 61. He lived another seven years after that and his obituary in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle remarked that he was a sober man who had invested his money wisely and died worth a small fortune. In his native Bridgeport, the local obit noted that in addition to all of his sporting and financial achievements, he had been a kindly father and a splendid citizen. O'Rourke was so beloved in Bridgeport that they built a statue of him (right; click to enlarge).<br />
<br />
Kelly, on the other hand, had spent his money on whiskey and good times. He died penniless, and he was only 36 years old.
<br />
<br />
So, tough break on that batting championship, O'Rourke.<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-58076631686889581812016-01-17T02:56:00.000-08:002019-08-03T16:28:28.064-07:00The year of the 180-foot homer.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ackq2ZcJeITCW9jPDuoJwDHqYvdTUL6OIE_FgK7O_Ejxp4__J_l3iOz2Zti7jw691WKfJDlNEuvuSQWYlfCuRPhPx6EbWMRHDTbxHDBhcb6I1oxiflcbBUwDlENd5QVIdYsxsk0QykwA/s1600/The_Charlotte_Observer_Mon__Oct_6__1919_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ackq2ZcJeITCW9jPDuoJwDHqYvdTUL6OIE_FgK7O_Ejxp4__J_l3iOz2Zti7jw691WKfJDlNEuvuSQWYlfCuRPhPx6EbWMRHDTbxHDBhcb6I1oxiflcbBUwDlENd5QVIdYsxsk0QykwA/s200/The_Charlotte_Observer_Mon__Oct_6__1919_.jpg" /></a></div>
Today's record books all show that Babe Ruth set the single-season home run record in 1919 by hitting 29, thereby breaking the record of 27 held by <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/willine01.shtml">Ned Williamson</a>. That's not they way they saw things when Ruth was chasing that record. The writers of that era originally thought that Ruth was chasing the record of 25, or possibly 26 (the 1919 sources vary), as set by <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/f/freembu01.shtml">Buck Freeman</a> in 1899. (Click on the Oct 6, 1919 article to the left to enlarge it and read a typical viewpoint from the era.) In fact, that made perfect sense because there were still fresh memories of Freeman, who was the Ruth of his own generation, a man who lashed baseballs for unprecedented distances with unprecedented frequency, and led several leagues at various levels in four-baggers. Ruth was not only chasing an aggregate number, but a legend, by hitting balls into and beyond locations which only Freeman had previously reached.<br />
<br /><br />
Freeman had still been playing in the majors as late as 1907, while Ruth had begun his career only seven years later, and with the same team, so many contemporaries of a young Ruth had personally seen an older Freeman, and many Boston fans had viewed long balls hit by both players. Catcher Bill Carrigan, a long-time fixture on the Boston squad, had even been the teammate of both men. The players, fans and writers of 1919 were well acquainted with Freeman and his tape measure shots, and the baseball rules and strategies were essentially the same in 1919 as they had been in 1899, so Freeman was considered the rightful home run king to be deposed.<br />
<br />
It was only after Ruth had leapt the known Freeman hurdle that sportswriters and sports historians started to dig into the old-time White Stockings, who had amassed an incalculable number of circuit clouts in 1884 because of a freakish combination of circumstances. Oh, sure, the game of 1884 had used a different set of rules, different equipment, and a different pitching distance, but it was still the National League, after all, so writers started to comb through the old box scores. The researchers found that superstars <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/k/kellyki01.shtml">King Kelly</a> and <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/a/ansonca01.shtml">Cap Anson</a> had hit a lot of homers that year, as did three other members of the team. The derby champion was neither of the future Hall of Famers, but Chicago's relatively obscure third baseman, Ned Williamson, who hit 27, after never having hit more than three in any of his previous six seasons. After that year, Williamson played six more seasons in the majors, but would never reach double digits again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJ7SC68a0lMAy6ndyb3eVhyphenhyphenyD4FwXW9v9RrfRBc084Wsp3_qhwRyS12asRSoGNs1VgX-NO6b0cDI16lOJ1ByB-WSntupcisPl_RxeQAzFm06iqY8cBez2wUXlc7dL3sq_7bT8OKLo6B6f/s1600/ned-williamson-chicago-white-stockings-baseball-cards.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJ7SC68a0lMAy6ndyb3eVhyphenhyphenyD4FwXW9v9RrfRBc084Wsp3_qhwRyS12asRSoGNs1VgX-NO6b0cDI16lOJ1ByB-WSntupcisPl_RxeQAzFm06iqY8cBez2wUXlc7dL3sq_7bT8OKLo6B6f/s1600/ned-williamson-chicago-white-stockings-baseball-cards.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Despite the above evidence of his apparently having an entire set of Old Judge baseball cards dedicated exclusively to him, Williamson's slugging record had gone unrecognized for more than 30 years after his having "set" it, but that wasn't really surprising, given that fact that it wasn't even recognized when he did it. Except for the second game of a May 30 doubleheader when Williamson played catcher and clubbed three homers and a double, there was really no significant acclaim for Williamson's prodigious slugging feats in the Chicago papers that year, even though the box scores were dutifully reported and the individual homers noted within them. Below are the Chicago Inter Ocean's summaries and box scores of the season's final two games, which were both played at home. Yes, they were home games, even though Chicago batted first. It was the home team's choice in those days, and Chicago's player/manager Cap Anson liked to mix it up. In fact, the "home team bats last" rule was not enacted until 1950, although home teams seldom chose to bat first in the modern era. In the old days, however, when a single ball might be used throughout the game, many teams liked the advantage of getting the top of the line-up to bat in the top of the first, when the ball was fresher and livelier. At any rate, Williamson homered in each of those games, thus (we now know) breaking a 25-homer tie with teammate <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/p/pfefffr01.shtml">Fred Pfeffer</a> for the annual and all-time lead, but he attracted absolutely no notice either for his performances on those days or his cumulative seasonal achievements.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxWXb_Jgi3NRePrdtjlrmMwfLM5AxOO7RBsxI2ILCmDof7ppGCWITCYrmECbihDQiWJ8uhn0zwESc_LStmHc-DKHRabvaT7eYb6IfdPk4VcdQFFO9WBeGJFrNiRYcvSj2i4qwI9L_CD9e5/s1600/The_Inter_Ocean_Sat__Oct_11-12__1884.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxWXb_Jgi3NRePrdtjlrmMwfLM5AxOO7RBsxI2ILCmDof7ppGCWITCYrmECbihDQiWJ8uhn0zwESc_LStmHc-DKHRabvaT7eYb6IfdPk4VcdQFFO9WBeGJFrNiRYcvSj2i4qwI9L_CD9e5/s1600/The_Inter_Ocean_Sat__Oct_11-12__1884.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The custom of the baseball guides in 1884 was to list a player's total hits and total bases, but not to break the hits down into doubles, triples and homers, so Williamson's official stats for that year in the Spalding Guide look very solid, but neither that page, shown below, nor any other in the annual guide indicate that he had led the league in homers, let alone that he had established himself as the all-time single season homer king. In fact, his total of 82 runs scored looks paltry, given that five of his teammates exceeded 100!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrPvxGdbqcw9Gd8GusxbX7oIzSTrW21jey3l0FHabb9zbug5WCNKBk0bt-peDzEGWHC2g0HWL9CvHp6MRFEANyVAWHCiaIPxj95IBQ_9BVLNAtrsLYIRoWgkH9o9zhTHGkgvuIaV9UOhE/s1600/1884_stats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrPvxGdbqcw9Gd8GusxbX7oIzSTrW21jey3l0FHabb9zbug5WCNKBk0bt-peDzEGWHC2g0HWL9CvHp6MRFEANyVAWHCiaIPxj95IBQ_9BVLNAtrsLYIRoWgkH9o9zhTHGkgvuIaV9UOhE/s1600/1884_stats.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The out-of-town newspapers didn't notice Ned's power displays either, from what I could see. The Detroit Free Press would occasionally write a headline like "Chicago wins with homers because of the fence," but did not elaborate within the article.<br />
<br />
Ah, yes. The fence.<br />
<br />
You see, the reason nobody noted or respected Williamson's achievement at the time is that everyone who followed baseball in his era was well aware of the tainted nature of any performances achieved in Chicago's home park that year. The Chicago White Stockings had played the 1884 season in a park with foul lines so short that the homers hit there would have been considered a soft touch in little league. The left field line was only 180 feet from home plate, made to play even shorter by facing mainly westward, allowing even easy pop flies to be carried into Michigan Avenue by the stiff breezes blowing off the lake. The right field was not much longer at 196 feet, but in that direction at least a batter needed to drive the ball northeasterly into the lake winds and over a 37 1/2 foot fence which had been erected to keep fans from watching ball games for free from a nearby viaduct. The name of the stadium was <a href="http://ballparkhistory.com/viewBallpark.php?id=101#sthash.u6jiLvWd.nT2vvZDV.dpbs">Lake Front Park</a>, and it caused statistical distortions that have never been matched by any subsequent field in major league history, not by Coors or Mile High with their altitude-enhanced flights, nor the Polo Grounds and Baker Bowl with their invitingly nearby right field fences, nor Wrigley Field with the wind blowing out so often and so fiercely.<br>
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_V9x8SWhQok8merCbGNvoZfH59tYDGlTkaRIptIHObdhyaXnxxooXl80b7au9KKtuofRfRy_dOOg4Mw3ZQkx_T983UGE_ruiQLGIt0F8tx5JeTyVEdAVYlwokCSEbKQSs3kaDQVCVMl3F/s1600/Wilkes_Barre_Times_Leader__the_Evening_News_Mon__Oct_13__1919_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_V9x8SWhQok8merCbGNvoZfH59tYDGlTkaRIptIHObdhyaXnxxooXl80b7au9KKtuofRfRy_dOOg4Mw3ZQkx_T983UGE_ruiQLGIt0F8tx5JeTyVEdAVYlwokCSEbKQSs3kaDQVCVMl3F/s200/Wilkes_Barre_Times_Leader__the_Evening_News_Mon__Oct_13__1919_.jpg" /></a></div>
There were 321 homers in the National League that year, up from a mere 124 the year before. 194 of those homers were hit in Lake Front Park, which therefore accounted for just about all of the year-to-year increase. There were 3.5 homers per game at that park. In all other games that year, there were .31 homers per game. In other words, homers were hit in Lake Front Park about 11 times more frequently than under the league's average remaining conditions. <br>
<br />
As it turns out, that is a good indication of Williamson's personal home/road split, which we know to have been 25/2, thanks to some research done by a sportswriter in late 1919, when Ruth's homers started to bring vintage, long-forgotten home run records under the microscope. (Click on the October 13, 1919 article to the right to enlarge it.)<br>
<br /><br /><br />
The 11:1 ratio also held almost perfectly for the White Stockings as a team. They hit 129 at Lake Front Park and 12 on the road, according to a 1917 article by famed sportswriter Ernest Lanigan in the Pittsburg Press. (Yes, that's how they spelled Pittsburgh. See the entire page below, which you can click to enlarge.) As far as we know today, he and his researchers had gotten the 1884 details more or less correct. (He attributed 141 homers to the White Stockings, while the modern sources say 142; he attributed 316 to the league, while the modern sources say 321; and there is a discrepancy of one homer apiece on several of Williamson's teammates. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvGd-0FTgToJSpM6cfsgmO0SmTHt7f5wtHQIbcIDuxFcDg_gaPR-dG_OrMaBiZINaitHKA4Xj-ZCrN7lsdKVf8iHeWmiYVY9ijTXr0INNpAYxz8sUWKpmqePhJpXQcDUbqpkrCR6PmUyJa/s1600/Lanigan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHF1qdK26Pya-kcArAwSWkFy31ehZv6ZSlH87-wAmjXp_gof9yr9K8j2zPGjQDAzk6zyCcTtw1yCsGxYZ3lD1vZ3jW6odjA5Hf0jCqc7asUzcwKaRjk5HN2NICt5DLDntYYHKXDC3eowT2/s640/The_Pittsburgh_Press_Sun__Jun_3__1917_.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Lake Front Park's dimensions had been the same, or nearly so, in previous years, but the cheap shot over the fence had always been ruled a ground-rule double. Even that situation produced wild statistical anomalies in which the Chicago team led the league in doubles by a very wide margin. They cracked 277 two-baggers in 1883, compared to 209 for the next highest team. The following chart shows their records in 1883 (180-foot doubles), 1884 (180-foot homers) and 1885, when they moved, kicking and screaming I might add, to a <a href="http://ballparkhistory.com/viewBallpark.php?id=131#sthash.6Prq0gxY.dpbs">(somewhat) more sensible stadium</a>. (They were evicted from Lake Front.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1b<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">2b<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">3b<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">HR<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Avg<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">G<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">1883<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">649<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">277<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">61<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">13<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.273<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">98<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">1884<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">822<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">162<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">50<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">142<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.281<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">113<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">1885<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">766<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">184<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">75<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">54<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">.264<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">113<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table><br>
<br />
In fairness to their sluggers, it should be noted that the 1883 rule probably deflated their home run totals that year, just as the 1884 rule inflated them, since balls over the fence were doubles in 1883, no matter how far over the fence, so home runs were difficult to come by. The contrast between their home run totals in 1883 and 1885, as shown above, seems to support that theory.<br>
<br />
Here are the totals for doubles and home runs hit by the eight starters in those three years:<br>
<br />
<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><font color="#ffff00">Home Runs</font><br>
</td>
<td valign="top">1883<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">1884<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">1885<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/f/flintsi01.shtml">Flint</a><br>
</td>
<td valign="top">0<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">9<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">1<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Anson<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">0<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">21<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">7<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Pfeffer<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">1<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">25<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">5<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/b/burnsto01.shtml">Burns</a><br>
</td>
<td valign="top">2<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">7<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">7<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Williamson<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">2<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">27<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">3<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/d/dalryab01.shtml">Dalrymple</a><br>
</td>
<td valign="top">2<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">22<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">11<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/g/gorege01.shtml">Gore</a><br>
</td>
<td valign="top">2<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">5<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">5<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Kelly<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">3<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">13<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">9<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<br>
<br />
<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><font color="#ffff00">Doubles</font><br>
</td>
<td valign="top">1883<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">1884<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">1885<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Flint<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">23<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">5<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">8<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Anson<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">36<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">30<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">35<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Pfeffer<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">22<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">10<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">12<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Burns<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">37<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">14<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">23<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Williamson<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">49<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">18<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">16<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Dalrymple<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">24<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">18<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">27<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Gore<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">30<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">18<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">21<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Kelly<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">28<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">28<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">24<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<br>
<br />
Those individual breakdowns show that Williamson was the master at lofting balls over that fence. He used this ability to hit a league-leading 49 doubles in 1883, and then to lead the league with 27 homers in 1884 when the ground rule was changed. When relocated in 1885 to a field where high fly balls were no longer advantageous, the former champ in doubles and homers proved to lack any special talent for either. Although he more or less secretly held the major league home run record for decades, Williamson was not a home run hitter. He had hit only two four-baggers in the year before he set the record, and only three the following year, which was seventh-best on his own club. People considered him an excellent fielder with a cannon for a right arm (the team later switched him to shortstop when Burns faltered), but just an ordinary hitter, or maybe a bit better. His lifetime average was .255 and he usually batted sixth, even in the year when he set the tainted home run record. He died young, in 1894, and was probably not aware he ever led the league in homers at all. The 1915 Spalding Official Baseball Record says that the all-time record holder is John (Buck) Freeman with 25 in 1899. The very first baseball encyclopedia ("Balldom: The Britannica of Baseball") was published in 1914, and did not list Williamson's total among the best home run seasons. In fact, it did not even list his three-homer game in the supposed complete list of such achievements, although it erroneously credits Mike Muldoon of Cleveland with having hit four in an 1882 game in which he actually hit two homers and two singles. The relevant pages follow:<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhotOdoLA_dSRJJPLIKwpjloeGY3XttCdkRDANRUaMHCJAlMtGtQW5qSN7Qd6yfHZmzaf8QqUV2DmxNtydYzjEO5Mu9lRzB-z4Dn_4NuLEglM0xy3pw9HKMtqMmNb5uBAdMCEbVbYmPHiQl/s1600/balldom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhotOdoLA_dSRJJPLIKwpjloeGY3XttCdkRDANRUaMHCJAlMtGtQW5qSN7Qd6yfHZmzaf8QqUV2DmxNtydYzjEO5Mu9lRzB-z4Dn_4NuLEglM0xy3pw9HKMtqMmNb5uBAdMCEbVbYmPHiQl/s1600/balldom.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
As expected, that encyclopedia again listed Buck Freeman as the record holder for a major league season. Williamson was finally listed as the record holder in the 1916 update of the Spalding Official Baseball Record, 32 years after the fact, and 22 years after his death. Even that source claimed that the achievement had allegedly taken place in 1883, not 1884. The record was not properly nailed down until Ernest Lanigan and his researchers assembled all the details in 1917, as shown in the Pittsburgh paper pictured earlier. If Ned Williamson could come back to life today, he would probably be as surprised as anyone to find that he had ever been considered the record-holder for home runs in a single season. In fact he would probably be more surprised than anyone else, since he would know full well he was only the seventh best home run hitter on his own team!<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8sLjgHqTWlghMiWQN1O6QsXdlOMPvVRwpxpDf74S44WkC0tuoKmsX8-Fdbhh4q1lREDyidboAOyeAGQMk6CLfC1T-DdTJ8FKg63Qv55EkiJj4ypvna8o2vPRV_hyphenhyphenyv12XEbmItE5NICFp/s1600/ned-williamson-chicago-white-stockings-baseball-cards2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8sLjgHqTWlghMiWQN1O6QsXdlOMPvVRwpxpDf74S44WkC0tuoKmsX8-Fdbhh4q1lREDyidboAOyeAGQMk6CLfC1T-DdTJ8FKg63Qv55EkiJj4ypvna8o2vPRV_hyphenhyphenyv12XEbmItE5NICFp/s1600/ned-williamson-chicago-white-stockings-baseball-cards2.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
By the way, the center card above notwithstanding, Ned played only seven games at second base in his entire career, which spanned thirteen seasons and 1225 games. He played about 700 games at third base and more than 400 at short. Enough about Ned for a while. Let's consider how Lake Front Park got that way. It's a long story, but I like long stories, so here we go.<br>
<br />
If you have really been paying attention to this article and are at all familiar with the geography of Chicago, you may have wondered when reading the preceding paragraphs, "Why did they call it Lake Front Park if a homer went out on Michigan Avenue? That's gotta be, like, a mile from the lake." Yes, you are right. It's because Michigan is a very tricky lake. Sort of. Ever since the Civil War era the city of Chicago has been reclaiming more and more land to expand the shore. <br>
<br />
If you could time-travel back to the early 1850s, you would see that Michigan Avenue was so-called because it was on Lake Michigan. In the period after 1856, Michigan Avenue was still on the shore, but now abutted what I am going to call a lagoon, following the example of the newspapers of that day. That area had been separated from the main body of the lake by a breakwater created in the 1850s for the Illinois Central Railroad. The illustration below, made in the Civil War era, shows the railroad trestle, the breakwater, and the Michigan Avenue shore, with pleasure boats still sailing on the lagoon.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEaSVJugl0SJyTRqSkOmtsJtVm2ksDnwrpS6DIE2Kk-7D0HOdwcY-gtyr8T84E9VH4-EGChy-AgzzdForD7VBkqu1SVs3Dr2bg95E5YyZqKtGN8wJGewxhvPLG4yJ91sWhyphenhyphenPzyf9a6gozU/s1600/chicago-makers-1860s1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEaSVJugl0SJyTRqSkOmtsJtVm2ksDnwrpS6DIE2Kk-7D0HOdwcY-gtyr8T84E9VH4-EGChy-AgzzdForD7VBkqu1SVs3Dr2bg95E5YyZqKtGN8wJGewxhvPLG4yJ91sWhyphenhyphenPzyf9a6gozU/s1600/chicago-makers-1860s1.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
And here's how that area was portrayed on an 1867 map.
<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr_qhjIBNA8H2ujkApz7z4keOo97kO-F2dHi3aN3ISHPV73FzqljRaNWvdVUWhOAUwzjQht8wjFLLQLD_xuwB5VyryawN5Y5WX9ie6oLD_WJRP_J-skbxYgWxpHcQLcN-Dvdyxep9bEEg/s1600/chicago_1867.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDr_qhjIBNA8H2ujkApz7z4keOo97kO-F2dHi3aN3ISHPV73FzqljRaNWvdVUWhOAUwzjQht8wjFLLQLD_xuwB5VyryawN5Y5WX9ie6oLD_WJRP_J-skbxYgWxpHcQLcN-Dvdyxep9bEEg/s1600/chicago_1867.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
At that point the site of Lake Front Park was not on the lake, but in it, if I can fairly call that area part of the lake. It is the very northernmost section of the lagoon, running just east of Michigan Avenue from Washington Street on the south to Randolph Street on the north. You can already see from the map that it could not be turned into a very large tract of land, because it was boxed in by Michigan Avenue and the train tracks. The photograph below, taken in 1858 when the area was still mostly underwater, illustrates just how cramped the space would be.<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh783oEd1Hf8NpCr4MQrKxLJcVbG_MFHYx-5hRinlUP5zeMffKsrl9JQqSIIHkf0Zo2W2LnMdfZ29ooc7Ixzb5KV0kE6Cxxr2jKxOIdGSWwJDuZ7Ib2-gUzcQKpvLMAdbvqlYLj71BrrTc_/s1600/chicago_1858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh783oEd1Hf8NpCr4MQrKxLJcVbG_MFHYx-5hRinlUP5zeMffKsrl9JQqSIIHkf0Zo2W2LnMdfZ29ooc7Ixzb5KV0kE6Cxxr2jKxOIdGSWwJDuZ7Ib2-gUzcQKpvLMAdbvqlYLj71BrrTc_/s1600/chicago_1858.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
Here is the same view, looking northward toward the old railroad depot (the distinctive building with the three arches) just a bit later, when the lagoon was in the early stages of reclamation.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidA2-qsAqHTck1D1KYsBdkoZg6KQgjU-ovWlbi2PwtePY_rAyN7TYTsstQ-LXV6VR5YHyGMS9h0jjQomVZfvccnAFU_z6hHGj4vk7SsvMM38xmpvuhr03LGOcA2Yes7YSkS5awBCSns0-6/s1600/grant_park-1868.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidA2-qsAqHTck1D1KYsBdkoZg6KQgjU-ovWlbi2PwtePY_rAyN7TYTsstQ-LXV6VR5YHyGMS9h0jjQomVZfvccnAFU_z6hHGj4vk7SsvMM38xmpvuhr03LGOcA2Yes7YSkS5awBCSns0-6/s1600/grant_park-1868.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
The area where the baseball field would be located was the very first part of the lagoon to be reclaimed. The 1871 map of Chicago below shows what the city looked like just before the great fire, portraying the first White Stocking ballpark built on the site, back when the team was in the old National Association.<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkYBwfjQUNaTFBXZwiBrgpe0BreZNykpw9EJqCbtrYssgLot15E9lJDvdOnmSIxf71ULSIFwT0dMsjWe_UIt3X7CK_O5U2_SfBClZrbOyIDay3WdSKoUJ-HmznXhyphenhyphenXT3hIO22X5Q2DyXsB/s1600/chicago-1871.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkYBwfjQUNaTFBXZwiBrgpe0BreZNykpw9EJqCbtrYssgLot15E9lJDvdOnmSIxf71ULSIFwT0dMsjWe_UIt3X7CK_O5U2_SfBClZrbOyIDay3WdSKoUJ-HmznXhyphenhyphenXT3hIO22X5Q2DyXsB/s1600/chicago-1871.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
1871 was the first year of organized professional "major" leagues in the United States, but the National League was still five years in the future. The ball field indicated in the drawing above is not the notorious Lake Front Park of the 180-foot fences, but a rickety old wooden stadium called the <a href="http://ballparkhistory.com/viewBallpark.php?id=215#sthash.ikAsxs6R.dpbs">Union Grounds</a>, which was somehow cobbled into the space in such a way that all the fences were a uniform 375 feet from home. This seems to have been possible because the Union Grounds extended south of Washington Street, while the later, smaller field at Lake Front Park did not. The location was, however, that very same southeast corner of Randolph and Michigan later occupied by Lake Front Park. Unfortunately for the city, the first year of professional baseball was also the year of the Chicago Fire, and the stadium, along with much around it, was destroyed, so the team did not play the following two seasons, and when it finally did return, played elsewhere in the city from 1874 until 1877. Baseball did not return to the lakefront for seven years.
<br>
<br />
The catastrophic Chicago Fire did bring some ancillary benefits to the city. It provided an incentive to build and modernize the destroyed neighborhoods, of course, and it also provided debris that was helpful in filling in the rest of the lagoon. By 1880, through a massive project of co-operation between the city and the railroads, the lagoon was completely gone, as seen below, with part of the new land eventually going for additional train tracks on solid ground, replacing the old trestle, and the rest of the area dedicated toward creating green space and architectural marvels like the <a href="https://chicagology.com/rebuilding/rebuilding016/">Interstate Industrial Exposition Building</a>, where the famous <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1880_Republican_National_Convention">1880 Republican Convention</a> thwarted General Grant's bid for a third term. Today the area is generally known as Grant Park, rather ironically since it marks the only place where Grant ever failed at anything important. The picture below was again taken from the south facing north along Michigan Avenue, a very similar perspective to the one above, but this time around 1880, by which time the White Stockings had already moved back to the former site of the old Union Grounds, which would be at the very far northern end of the new landfill park pictured here, although the baseball field it is not really visible (or at least not recognizable). By this time, the games were being played at the infamous Lake Front Park, which <a href="http://ballparkhistory.com/viewBallpark.php?id=100#sthash.7y0Np6Wr.dpbs">in 1878-1882 was not as fancy</a> as the 1883-1884 version, but comprised essentially the same playing area, with similar dimensions and the familiar pre-1884 ground rule stipulating that a ball over the fence was a double.
<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0ESaSbJ951lJZDTEJ0nWCMSXb6u4DZ9ZFYRylKybX0YMWnzRpgxN_F73V-NLT0mT8ApEx5kfniNEAcAdxP-1ogYST9gFE3XxolSt1YOlnnzw2gYYWmzIutDAjmpOIc_MjYXeu6AkfCCG/s1600/Chicago_Lakefront-circa_1880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0ESaSbJ951lJZDTEJ0nWCMSXb6u4DZ9ZFYRylKybX0YMWnzRpgxN_F73V-NLT0mT8ApEx5kfniNEAcAdxP-1ogYST9gFE3XxolSt1YOlnnzw2gYYWmzIutDAjmpOIc_MjYXeu6AkfCCG/s1600/Chicago_Lakefront-circa_1880.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
A promotional business map of Chicago (below) gives the exact 1884 location of home run heaven (called "Base Ball Grounds"), and the inserted plot map gives a more accurate definition of the space actually available for the ball grounds (the blacked-out area).
<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7BOP3qHvlEJnlvktCbf6fwyU0EWZZI3DtzeWzbYJFUVtyS-GkKrAz1uEZb6FhCQUFAoxddERu74NsG-Htq0eMt6ThmAvtUXe_IKWqi6yPiBTdc6MHzS7g0yXdmr5jXdOSCrwQE-AtjJiB/s1600/Chicago_Business_Map-1884.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7BOP3qHvlEJnlvktCbf6fwyU0EWZZI3DtzeWzbYJFUVtyS-GkKrAz1uEZb6FhCQUFAoxddERu74NsG-Htq0eMt6ThmAvtUXe_IKWqi6yPiBTdc6MHzS7g0yXdmr5jXdOSCrwQE-AtjJiB/s1600/Chicago_Business_Map-1884.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
To my knowledge there is no known photograph of Lake Front Park, either in its 1878-1882 avatar, or in the upgraded version, which was then considered the state of the art in baseball facilities. (It even had luxurious sky boxes where the city's plutocrats could avoid mingling with the hoi polloi.) The drawing below is rich in detail, however, and the exterior fence, whitewashed to match the wide white promenade beside Michigan Avenue, is pictured exactly as it is described in the articles of the day. This rendering must picture the upgraded 1883-84 version of the park, because the pennant on the top left takes note of the 1881 and 1882 World Championships. Barely visible beyond the stadium to the south is the famous Interstate Industrial Exposition Hall. The pitcher seems to be tossing the ball almost due south in this representation.
<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbt9Y6uoC3Tv8Wuj86aCEuxU4rKyjuwbH8XHHGStviH1sv3Zx67mkACA8JsLIaFxoZ_xubq2AVvTtPuCinXk9KekdZlPLRs7WeT-M4ljT7xvsrTic-4bW1S3k3-ax3I9GYhd2G3qXPYeNY/s1600/LakeFrontPark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbt9Y6uoC3Tv8Wuj86aCEuxU4rKyjuwbH8XHHGStviH1sv3Zx67mkACA8JsLIaFxoZ_xubq2AVvTtPuCinXk9KekdZlPLRs7WeT-M4ljT7xvsrTic-4bW1S3k3-ax3I9GYhd2G3qXPYeNY/s1600/LakeFrontPark.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgscjdLV-unIenKjmb_26JQOnVmiesFiapvxmMqKr4K7vXjzDLuCJa38E8NZjMvmYNyZDdYiykZJJy0DwbiAvXPftrRDHAOY4OdVl0_Wov24Rx_4xxqcvWq72CgtJ0Xrxuvlb9SEAawEQBw/s1600/lakefrontpark2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgscjdLV-unIenKjmb_26JQOnVmiesFiapvxmMqKr4K7vXjzDLuCJa38E8NZjMvmYNyZDdYiykZJJy0DwbiAvXPftrRDHAOY4OdVl0_Wov24Rx_4xxqcvWq72CgtJ0Xrxuvlb9SEAawEQBw/s1600/lakefrontpark2.jpg" /></a></div><br>
<br />
But in the rendering to the right, the pitcher seems to be facing a more southwesterly direction. At this time I can't say which, if either, is correct, and I don't know whether the drawing to the right is from their era or ours. We do know that the famous white fence ran exactly parallel to Michigan Avenue, which is laid out due north and south.
<br>
<br />
<br>
<br />
I want to talk a bit about that White Stocking team, but before I do, let me briefly finish the tale of the lakefront, even though the portion of the story germane to baseball has been completed. The city continued to reclaim more and more of the Lake Michigan shore through the 1920s, and even a bit later. In the two images below, you can see today's coastline, and a representation of where it was in 1884, when the 180-foot homers flew out into Michigan Avenue. (Click to enlarge.) And remember that just 20 years earlier, even that green strip, beginning at the baseball grounds and going due south, consisted of water, with the railroad trestles and a breakwater between that lagoon and the lake proper.<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3-Oq11DgTHb_JR1saC2Eiq2wm6LtnNCE3___AxUFSrlwa9sPwUj09GaWjp44l0jN2ykDCwAMl7__TNkaeuc6RSaBSUJOR_WKyz7jlOgOCaIPAdC_0jLJ3VfpFk-NB20xXuY5tDTOZLgH8/s1600/today.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3-Oq11DgTHb_JR1saC2Eiq2wm6LtnNCE3___AxUFSrlwa9sPwUj09GaWjp44l0jN2ykDCwAMl7__TNkaeuc6RSaBSUJOR_WKyz7jlOgOCaIPAdC_0jLJ3VfpFk-NB20xXuY5tDTOZLgH8/s640/today.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
The payoff of the story is that the new, upgraded Lake Front Park was a disaster for the team's performance, and they made it worse by changing the ground rule to create all those home runs. First the background:<br>
<br />
The White Stockings were a great team, the very first dynasty of the National League. Yes, I know their name makes it sound like they should be predecessors of today's White Sox, but in fact they are the Chicago Cubs, an unbroken line and an unrelocated franchise from the very birth of the National League to the present day. Today they are in a championship drought that has lasted more than a century, but in those days they expected to win all the time. From 1880 until 1886, a seven-season stretch, they were the world champs in five of those seven years, and they did it with almost the same team from start to finish. Here are their main players from the first and last years of their dynasty.<br>
<br />
<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4"
height="301">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1880 White Stockings<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">1886 White Stockings</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">C<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Silver Flint<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Silver Flint<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">1B<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Cap Anson<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Cap Anson<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">2B<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/q/questjo01.shtml">Joe Quest</a><br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Fred Pfeffer<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">3B<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Ned Williamson<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Tom Burns<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">SS<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Tom Burns<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Ned Williamson<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OF<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Abner Dalrymple<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">Abner Dalrymple<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OF<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">George Gore<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">George Gore<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top">OF<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">King Kelly<br>
</td>
<td align="center" valign="top">King Kelly<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_uMtgvaWBZB7a60bnoywa-NZBZeFf0zvurubmZXq86KVUY7IcosWf9DBV-jr3PnadQQD6Ynwc5wabhUxzNocZPZ5lCbeNaWeEcQfwWGvMpeEsyh6ukcVUlcThhX3J_i2RZZnvs9sNzIc/s1600/1881-White_Stockings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_uMtgvaWBZB7a60bnoywa-NZBZeFf0zvurubmZXq86KVUY7IcosWf9DBV-jr3PnadQQD6Ynwc5wabhUxzNocZPZ5lCbeNaWeEcQfwWGvMpeEsyh6ukcVUlcThhX3J_i2RZZnvs9sNzIc/s200/1881-White_Stockings.jpg" /></a></div>
As you can see, the only meaningful change is that Joe Quest, whose grandson <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonny_Quest">Jonny</a> would go on to become a cartoon character, was replaced in 1883 by Fred Pfeffer, who would go on to a solid career in the majors that lasted sixteen years, and who was almost the retroactive home run king himself, having hit 25 homers the year Williamson hit his 27. Ned Williamson and Tom Burns traded positions toward the end of the run, which doesn't surprise me because I read a bunch of 1884 newspapers, and they were filled with sentiments like "Our gallant lads are sure to emerge triumphant in the next season's gladitorials, for our only weakness this year was the inconsistent shortstopping of Burns." That's not really a quote, but they did write like that. Click on this thumbnail of a team portrait to see a nice artist's rendering of the World Championship 1881 team, when Quest had not yet been replaced.<br>
<br />
As good as they were for so many years with the same personnel, there were two years when they did not win the NL pennant. I'll bet you can guess which two years they were.
<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP99cXReTlMq0zgy9oIG9lGChwjzwDcVM-JOVQoF60E8TqWoncJdjfCpY1b9sW7dPPBa51kRX6GpmEwdzt0wmLGVu2sx_OS1X8y-BHne0yko9K-qXKohRTT1tuhT9uDcsjHemaKa3Jc3nU/s1600/stockings_results.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP99cXReTlMq0zgy9oIG9lGChwjzwDcVM-JOVQoF60E8TqWoncJdjfCpY1b9sW7dPPBa51kRX6GpmEwdzt0wmLGVu2sx_OS1X8y-BHne0yko9K-qXKohRTT1tuhT9uDcsjHemaKa3Jc3nU/s1600/stockings_results.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
Yup, it was the two years at their refurbished Lake Front Park. The first year there, 1883, they dropped to second place after three straight pennants. The next year, 1884, was the year when they changed the ground rule to allow a cheap homer, and they sank all the way to fifth (actually, I think it was a tie for fourth). As soon as they left that park, they zoomed right back into first place for two more years, during which they improved from .550 ball to approximately .750 ball without changing personnel.
<br>
<br />
To be fair, there are at least two more possible explanations for their poor showing in 1884. The first was offered by Anson in a late October interview in the Trib (below), in which he blamed the fact that the players had no discipline that year because they knew they could jump to the Union Association if the management gave them any grief over drinking and carousing. (Note also that he, too, took a shot at Burns's poor play at shortstop.)
<br>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAwnmDoX-kR-TK5WvSFls06PbXQURWmTQAOJi4kfOKaJclA5OdTWVJNfKURFDAoLbiqlGB0FL45Bw2FBfacLz-V46BQvdVorPkt9xacMl05KRS1gKMa3yO7pkmg98Da-zEHa-62m4nLkcC/s1600/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sun__Oct_26__1884_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAwnmDoX-kR-TK5WvSFls06PbXQURWmTQAOJi4kfOKaJclA5OdTWVJNfKURFDAoLbiqlGB0FL45Bw2FBfacLz-V46BQvdVorPkt9xacMl05KRS1gKMa3yO7pkmg98Da-zEHa-62m4nLkcC/s1600/Chicago_Daily_Tribune_Sun__Oct_26__1884_.jpg" /></a></div>
<br>
<br />
Another, perhaps more cogent, explanation for the White Stockings' failure to win the pennant that year is that nobody was going to challenge the <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/teams/PRO/1884.shtml">Providence Grays in 1884</a>. They were the team of destiny. <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/r/radboch01.shtml">Old Hoss Radbourn</a> turned in his epic 60-win season and his mound mate in the season's early going, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/sweench01.shtml">Charlie Sweeney</a>, was matching the Old Hoss win-for-win, even including an unheard-of 19 strikeouts in one game. Radbourn finished the season with a 1.38 ERA, Sweeney with a 1.55. The Grays allowed only 185 earned runs all year, and played better than .800 ball at home. They won the pennant by more than 10 games in a 112-game season. I just don't see where a slicker shortstop was going to be enough for the White Stockings to overcome the kind of pitching exhibition put on by Old Hoss and company.
<br>
<br />
And, let's face it, the 180-foot homers were just a bad idea.
<br>
<br /><br>
<br />
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-28387684948071551182016-01-07T23:45:00.001-08:002021-07-19T10:29:39.869-07:00How far can a major leaguer hit a baseball?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
The discussion has to begin with a definition of terms. We don't mean "off the top of Mt Everest" or "on the Moon" or even "in Denver." If you were to go take Giancarlo Stanton out to an open field in Denver and let him hit with an aluminum bat on an 70-degree day with a 40 mph tailwind, he could probably blast some monumental homers. But that's not what we mean.<br />
<br />
We are trying to determine how far a very powerful man can drive an official baseball with a legal wooden bat, assuming that the ball lands at field level, there is no wind, the park is at sea level, the temperature is 75 degrees, the barometer is steady at 29.92, and the relative humidity is 50%. Given those parameters, we can use physics to make the determination. All we need is the exit velocity of the ball from the bat, and then we can determine the optimal flight angle necessary to maximize the carry, using <a href="http://baseball.physics.illinois.edu/TrajectoryCalculator.xlsx">a downloadable Excel spreadsheet</a> created by a physicist. <br />
<br />
We can obtain that exit velocity. Home Run Tracker charted every major league home run for more than a decade, and the highest exit velocity they have ever recorded or estimated for a ball leaving a wooden bat is 122.4 mph. Note that there were nearly 1.5 million batted balls in MLB in that period, and only 18 homers were produced by a ball velocity of at least 120 mph off the bat. It is such a rarity that in 2014 and 2011, there were none at all. But we'll assume 122.4 mph as the human limit for our model, since it has been done once, when <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/stantmi03.shtml">Giancarlo Stanton</a> hit a grand slam off Jamie Moyer in <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/MIA/MIA201205210.shtml">that ageless pitcher's second-last game</a> in May of 2012. Making all the standard assumptions I listed above, a ball with an exit velocity of 122.4 mph, stroked at the optimal angle for carry, will land a bit less than 515 feet away.<br />
<br />
That's it.<br />
<br />
515 feet is the very limit for human beings as we know them today.<br />
<br />
Mind you, that distance is highly unlikely to be achieved in reality, since only one batted ball out of a million is hit with that velocity, and on that one time in a decade when it happens, there is no guarantee that it will be launched at the optimal angle with the optimal spin (severe topspin would decrease its flight distance, as in any ball sport). Let's look at a more realistic possibility. How often can we expect to see a ball hit 500 feet?<br />
<br />
If we drop the exit velocity on the model to 120 mph, we see that a 500 foot homer can be produced within a certain range of lift angles. A quick look at Giancarlo Stanton's home run history shows that he hits about a third of his homers within that range. Let's assume that he is typical in that regard, and that about half of the homers launched at the right angle also spin appropriately. Based on those assumptions, the 18 balls which reached that velocity in the past decade should have produced six homers capable of exceeding 500 feet, of which perhaps three would have the correct spin to actually reach that distance. 502 feet would be the maximum distance achievable from a launch velocity of 120 mph. According to Home Run Tracker, there were five homers in the range of 494-504 feet during their existence, which is quite close to our expectation, and is probably virtually identical, because we have made some assumptions, and Home Run Tracker has made some estimates. They estimate where a ball would have landed at field level by using the known parameters and sometimes those observable parameters are not always detailed enough to get the distance precisely right. At any rate, only one homer in the past ten years traveled, or rather would have traveled if allowed to land at field level, 500 feet or more. In late September of 2008, Adam Dunn blasted a 504-footer off Glendon Rusch at Chase Field.<br />
<br />
<center>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2Jr98jyvHFM?rel=0" width="420"></iframe></center>
<br />
<br />
That one is a completely legitimate 500-footer, in that it received only a minimal amount of assistance from meteorological conditions. HRT estimated that it would have traveled 502 feet in our defined standardized conditions, and that is an exact match for our guess for the theoretical realistic maximum. It's important to realize, however, that today's players are bigger and stronger than their predecessors, yet those brobdingnagians produced only one 500-foot homer in more than ten years. The conclusion to be drawn is this: any time you read of a homer traveling more than 515 feet, it can only be attributable to Mother Nature or Mother Goose. Even 500-foot homers are exceedingly rare. Giancarlo Stanton, for example, at 6'6" and 240 pounds of solid muscle, and almost certainly the strongest hitter in baseball today, if not in all of history, has never hit a ball 500 feet, with or without the wind, as of the end of the 2015 season. At that point he had hit 181 official major league home runs, and the longest one recorded by HRT was a 494-footer he hit in August of 2012 - and that was in Coors, aided by the altitude! (The video is below.) In the 2016 Home Run Derby, he hit 61 blasts, including the eight longest of the competition, but still failed to reach 500 feet with his longest (497).<br />
<br />
<center>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="224" src="http://m.mlb.com/shared/video/embed/embed.html?content_id=23980563&topic_id=6479266&width=400&height=224&property=mlb" width="400"></iframe></center>
<br />
<br />
What about the legendary homers in history?<br />
<br />
Mythology or meteorology. As Sherlock Holmes might advise, rule out the impossible and find the solution among the other options.<br />
<br />
Based on the same theoretical model, the only legitimate 500-foot homer in history I could find that was not affected by the weather conditions was <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/m/mantlmi01.shtml">Mickey Mantle</a>'s blast off the facade in Yankee Stadium in 1963. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WeS1t9jSW8k">Mickey said</a> this was the hardest he ever hit a ball, so let's assume he produced a ball velocity of 120 mph off the bat. He would not be able to go to go much beyond that, because Mickey, at 5' 11 1/2", 195 lbs, was much smaller than Stanton or Dunn, and his shorter arms would be at a major disadvantage in creating the kind of torque produced by those giants. (<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/d/dunnad01.shtml">Adam Dunn</a> played at 6'6", 285.) Furthermore, the pitchers of Mickey's day were not consistently throwing with the velocity of today's pitchers, so Mickey wasn't getting as much help from them. (Disregarding the spin, the general rule is: the faster the pitch, the faster it comes back off the bat). We know precisely where Mickey's homer struck the facade, and it was at a spot 363 feet from home plate and 102 feet in the air. If we assume a lift angle of 25.5 degrees at 120 mph, we can get the ball to that exact point, and we therefore can determine that the ball would have traveled 502 feet in the air if allowed to land at ground level. The temperature was 70 degrees and there was a 13 mph breeze blowing that day, but it was blowing out to left field and Mantle hit his ball to straightaway right, so the wind was no factor and it was a certifiable 500-footer.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3tVb0fFT4g0n_jxQ9wFrrKwoiO5umNa10Za3_LLWq5cpKiw3KgdDjvfBgz0gUpr152flSA0jevaCNMTVyr9BNK1myTgMXBIrbd7nCIs3zy3I01oghCL0_LO6CwTbKrVO8ysBo4KiNGFSi/s1600/Mantle-Ramos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3tVb0fFT4g0n_jxQ9wFrrKwoiO5umNa10Za3_LLWq5cpKiw3KgdDjvfBgz0gUpr152flSA0jevaCNMTVyr9BNK1myTgMXBIrbd7nCIs3zy3I01oghCL0_LO6CwTbKrVO8ysBo4KiNGFSi/s1600/Mantle-Ramos.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Note: the original image above shows that the facade was 370 feet away and 118 feet in the air. If that is correct, then the ball would have required a lift angle of 30 degrees to get there, and would therefore have come down sooner, at 496 feet. That is a possible alternate assumption, but we believe the revised distances (363, 102) to be correct.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.baseball-almanac.com/feats/art_hr.shtml">One analyst asserted</a> that Cecil Fielder hit a 502-foot homer in 1991. The distance on that one is certifiable, so Fielder may join Mantle and Dunn in the 500 Club, but the wind information is missing, so we cannot be sure.<br />
<br />One other ball that we have good data on came close to 500. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSjuk6tC3HOBarvxndNrtYoxhyphenhyphen-1kPJUHBBYfDqSYNVJC4kvBWOu9aLOxgrGe3d245PR7TjF-Rs_iij9va8nnCYeP_wQ3TxIjj_9ELuoEVthLUO0INsKpuVrsyEL298-y4yL_bef_zRjXR/s1600/clemente_homer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSjuk6tC3HOBarvxndNrtYoxhyphenhyphen-1kPJUHBBYfDqSYNVJC4kvBWOu9aLOxgrGe3d245PR7TjF-Rs_iij9va8nnCYeP_wQ3TxIjj_9ELuoEVthLUO0INsKpuVrsyEL298-y4yL_bef_zRjXR/s1600/clemente_homer.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP5DAEDQXyFnfalGIR6z6QD5i13TmEPsLql6nHXQlBiXD1ko-5jwhn0B6a5p6S9dZWXob73ETNp0uUQSlF8jNs7_Wi2Az6p5iktr6acyW93hYKNVvjFITmK4MJ4kbJKdEl6hJdsndEEZb3/s1600/clemente_article.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP5DAEDQXyFnfalGIR6z6QD5i13TmEPsLql6nHXQlBiXD1ko-5jwhn0B6a5p6S9dZWXob73ETNp0uUQSlF8jNs7_Wi2Az6p5iktr6acyW93hYKNVvjFITmK4MJ4kbJKdEl6hJdsndEEZb3/s200/clemente_article.jpg" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/c/clemero01.shtml">Roberto Clemente</a> timed a hanging breaking ball from the great <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/k/koufasa01.shtml">Sandy Koufax</a> in 1964 and blasted a low liner into a light tower at Forbes Field. It was already 457 feet from home plate when it hit the tower, and that spot was 32 feet above the ground. If the ball left the bat at 119 miles an hour, just slightly sub-Mantle, with a low lift angle of 21 degrees, typical for Clemente, it would get to that exact point, and we can therefore extrapolate that the ball would have traveled 492 feet if unobstructed, as shown in the baseball card above. There was no appreciable wind that day. Surprisingly, neither Clemente nor the Pittsburgh sportswriters seemed suitably impressed at the time. The article in the next day's Pittsburgh Press (click on the thumbnail to the right to see it at full size) said that Clemente felt he hit one better in an earlier game - and that one was caught for an out.<br />
<br />
<br />
Of the other alleged 500-foot homers in the past, they fall into two categories: mythology or meteorology. Either they did not travel 500 feet at all, or they were greatly assisted by the wind and/or other weather factors. Home Run Tracker debunked the ones that simply did not go that far. Here are five that did travel that far, in descending order of the distance they would have traveled if unimpeded:<br />
<br />
1. A young Mickey Mantle hit a legendary blast off <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/d5feb98d">Chuck Stobbs</a> at Griffith Stadium in <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/WS1/WS1195304170.shtml">Stobbs's first start of 1953</a>. Baseball lore has recorded this as having traveled <a href="http://www.pophistorydig.com/topics/tag/tape-measure-home-run-history/">either 562 or 565 feet</a>. It didn't go that far, but it went a long way, and it still seems to be the longest one we can validate. We know two things about its path: (1) it nicked a sign 460 feet from home plate and about 55-60 feet in the air; (2) it had to strike or clear a 22-foot roof about 512 feet from home plate in order to get into the backyard area of another set of row houses; (3) it did not clear because the ball was ruptured from where it struck the roof. We also know what the weather report was that day. <a href="https://youtu.be/OvIOUFov-u8?t=9m19s">Mantle himself has said</a> that the tailwind was "about 50 mph," but Sam Diaz, a local meteorologist, reported more precisely that the wind was 20 mph, gusting to 41. If we assume the ball left the bat at 115 mph (remember Mantle said he didn't hit it as hard as the other one), took off at a 29 degree angle, and had an average wind velocity of 20 mph (a ball is typically not affected by the wind for about the first 15% of its flight), the model produces the exact values we need for all points on the parabola, and tells us that the ball would have carried about 542 feet unobstructed. A researcher and a physicist <a href="http://baseball.physics.illinois.edu/Krannert-v3.pdf">studied this homer in depth</a> and came to the same conclusion, albeit with slightly different assumptions.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyx_WU5EDwzZpKnb05fvMkxLY2ydFyzxpawsYnFnlawOrDFvGwnmSOn9ywPg0iGOQgv42sAUpZoInitQ6a579h6zD9tEN4DzyFh3zLcTxN7ZjsL4knEiooydFwsac_Wz9fns7mf_1e3el/s1600/mantle_565b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyx_WU5EDwzZpKnb05fvMkxLY2ydFyzxpawsYnFnlawOrDFvGwnmSOn9ywPg0iGOQgv42sAUpZoInitQ6a579h6zD9tEN4DzyFh3zLcTxN7ZjsL4knEiooydFwsac_Wz9fns7mf_1e3el/s1600/mantle_565b.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
2. <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/j/jacksre01.shtml">Reggie Jackson</a> really cranked one in the 1971 All-Star Game. Although it was only July, baseball's Mr. October hit a transformer about 380 feet from home plate and 100 feet above the level of the field. The wind gusts in his favor ranged from 17 to 31 mph, averaging 24. Assuming an exit velocity of 114 mph, a lift angle of 31 degrees and an average impact of 21 mph (85% of 24) from the wind, we can get the ball to that spot we are sure of, and thence determine that the ball would have traveled 541 feet. (Home Run Tracker estimated 539 feet with slightly different assumptions. There are multiple scenarios which would produce the required point on the curve, but the final results don't vary much.)<br />
<br />
3. <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/willite01.shtml">Ted Williams</a> launched his famous <a href="http://www.bostonspastime.com/redseat.html">"red seat" homer</a> at Fenway in 1946. It landed 502 feet from home plate, into a fan seated 30 feet above field level. The wind was 19-24 mph that day, averaging 21.5, so we'll take 85% of that and assume that the average assistance from the wind was about 18 mph. A ball velocity of 115 mph off the bat and a lift angle of 30 degrees will get the ball right to that seat, and project that the ball would have traveled 537 feet if it had landed at field level. (Home Run Tracker estimated 530 with slightly different assumptions.)<br />
<br />
4. <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/k/kingmda01.shtml">Dave Kingman</a> blasted a mammoth drive out of Wrigley Field <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/CHN/CHN197604140.shtml">in a 1976 game</a>, assisted by a 16 mph tailwind. We don't need much theory to determine where that would have landed, because we know exactly where it did land - <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0vFMwBESelg">on the porch of the third house from the corner on Kenmore</a>, <a href="http://www.twincities.com/ci_18080034">530 feet from home plate</a>. To my knowledge, Kingman's homer landed the farthest from home plate of any blast in history, because the ones we consider longer are based on theoretical landing places, while Kingman's actually came to earth.<br />
<br />
5. On <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/CHN/CHN200005110.shtml">May 11, 2000</a>, a Cubbie named <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/h/hillgl01.shtml">Glenallen Hill</a> hit a moon shot out of Wrigley Field and onto the roof of a building across the street from the stadium - about 30 feet above the field and 460 feet from home plate. There was an 18 mph wind behind him, so placing 85% of that into the model and assuming 111 mph exit velocity and a lift angle of 28 degrees will get the ball to that exact spot and produce the final unobstructed distance of 500 feet. This homer is partially tainted since <a href="http://espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=3244153">Glenallen later admitted to having used PEDs</a>, but he has earned his way back into the game's good graces through tireless efforts as a long time coach and minor league manager.
<br />
<br />
<center>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7wDrw76ieTs?rel=0" width="560"></iframe></center>
<br />
<br />
Note that none of these five homers were hit with enough force to travel 500 feet without the wind. Each of them would have been in the 450-485 range, which is still a rare achievement. With these five eliminated, Mantle and Dunn are the only two guys who can be said to have driven a ball 500 feet on their own power, and even those two come with some caveats. <a href="https://sportsmeister.wordpress.com/2010/07/23/adam-dunn-admits-steroid-use/">Dunn's 504 was powered by steroids</a>, and Mantle's 502 may actually have been 496 if those originally published stadium dimensions were correct. I have not covered every tape measure shot in baseball history, but you can be quite confident that any hit from a wooden bat carrying beyond 515 feet must be created by extenuating circumstances because the laws of physics determine that they cannot be entirely self-propelled. Slightly shorter historical homers, those purportedly in the 503-515 range, could have been entirely self-propelled, but almost certainly were not.
<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgryYOMkrMJ5gZpP6iHMhPH2-vltEbuduv6Wu983jCztfTnMW15gAWbQdpfN5hi8nL3ZZJDJExPkkr5BfiyxAyAW8EiioMJbAUQWAGnQHmhOnK65QkI6p1qIBlJc_bOzYgM4s4QFAgxK-sA/s1600/sidebar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgryYOMkrMJ5gZpP6iHMhPH2-vltEbuduv6Wu983jCztfTnMW15gAWbQdpfN5hi8nL3ZZJDJExPkkr5BfiyxAyAW8EiioMJbAUQWAGnQHmhOnK65QkI6p1qIBlJc_bOzYgM4s4QFAgxK-sA/s200/sidebar.jpg" /></a></div>
What about Mantle's 634 or 643 foot homer off <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/f/foytapa01.shtml">Paul Foytack</a> that went out of Briggs Stadium in 1960? (It was renamed Tiger Stadium the following year.) That landed in the lumber yard across the street.<br />
<br />
Well ...<br />
<br />
<br />
It is possible to hit a ball 634 feet if it is lifted at 30 degrees with a speed off the bat of 120 mph in a 40 mph wind. Given that nobody has reported such a wind that day, it would be wise to maintain a healthy skepticism. It was very possible for a 500-foot homer from that park to cross Trumbull Avenue and hit the roof of Brooks Lumber on a nearly windless day. These are not places shrouded in myth. <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/uv?hl=en&pb=!1s0x883b2d4fe81db195:0x91f7a2d6fc5793f4!2m5!2m2!1i80!2i80!3m1!2i100!3m1!7e1!4shttp://detroit.localstew.com/businesses/brooks-lumber!5sbrooks+lumber+detroit+-+Google+Search&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwinsaWagZnKAhVCTBoKHYmXB4sQoioIdTAK">Brooks Lumber</a> is still where it always has been, as is the home plate of old Briggs/Tiger Stadium, and we can get a scaled map from Google Maps. Shown below is a very plausible 500-foot path from home plate. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzawOvVlHvAJwBfdM8CPJ5Sl4FWWoljlOGPqgwc4bILlMFp1scVxH_sZopJ9_oGRfnmoAnmYF2vDoPnsfV4nM44iRf0xvTc-CxgZBFuXBUvRt_EDFbxqbRMW0FogzKR3A8Z3FV4isBh-m0/s1600/Tiger_Stadium2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzawOvVlHvAJwBfdM8CPJ5Sl4FWWoljlOGPqgwc4bILlMFp1scVxH_sZopJ9_oGRfnmoAnmYF2vDoPnsfV4nM44iRf0xvTc-CxgZBFuXBUvRt_EDFbxqbRMW0FogzKR3A8Z3FV4isBh-m0/s1600/Tiger_Stadium2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
The men who saw it "land" do not know whether it landed there on the fly or the bounce. How could they? Here is a physically possible scenario: Mantle launches the ball at 116 mph, less than his facade shot, at a 31 degree angle. With just a gentle 10 mph breeze behind him, he easily clears the back of the 94-foot grandstand at a point some 385 feet away at that angle, and gets the ball to the lumber yard roof, about 499 feet from home plate and about 18 feet in the air. He then gets an enormous bounce off the hard surface of that roof, and the story is born. My guess is that it landed at point X in the picture below and caromed left-rear into the company's open courtyard area, where the employee may well have seen the ball land some 600 feet or more from its launching pad - on the first or second hard bounce.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9MUwYWt_FikQA-L4aLASVnRNzyCwLRW6IvaZX7krtozf7U3DcaW7oKWnaU0ycwd-a89gFTCZWYeC6W0YG9B9eLHuo_KjBuH_ciIF98KOuY4BqGlfS3tctSyZbOGBL9rkS7niR6jQWVLYV/s1600/Brooks_Lumber.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9MUwYWt_FikQA-L4aLASVnRNzyCwLRW6IvaZX7krtozf7U3DcaW7oKWnaU0ycwd-a89gFTCZWYeC6W0YG9B9eLHuo_KjBuH_ciIF98KOuY4BqGlfS3tctSyZbOGBL9rkS7niR6jQWVLYV/s1600/Brooks_Lumber.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMtI7eBa2uK5PGrIDSm62D9VODjmFAFxJpZOhWjdZr0-f9DQ_iiTgYvFFn-JGGyK8_JprBCQ1t5KKVWECgz6fr_ZLOvy80uBBZBXWcfqcl3LZ9LdxBmBWGCHcpVjN_-2z5BsIvgrIFGCM/s1600/ap_report_foytackhomer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMtI7eBa2uK5PGrIDSm62D9VODjmFAFxJpZOhWjdZr0-f9DQ_iiTgYvFFn-JGGyK8_JprBCQ1t5KKVWECgz6fr_ZLOvy80uBBZBXWcfqcl3LZ9LdxBmBWGCHcpVjN_-2z5BsIvgrIFGCM/s200/ap_report_foytackhomer.jpg" /></a></div>
That happened on September 10, 1960. It's worth noting that Mantle's homer that day, unlike the monster blast he unleashed at Griffith Stadium, gathered no special attention from observers. The Associated Press report which appeared across the country the following day (click on the thumbnail to the right) was casual about the achievement, simply noting that it was the third time Mantle had cleared the roof, and the only other player to do so was Ted Williams. At the time, nobody felt it might be the longest homer in history. It later grew from a homer to a legend.<br />
<br />
Afterthought: some weeks after I wrote this article, I ran into the annotated picture below. The author (whom I have failed to identify) drew almost the exact same conclusions as I did about the Briggs blast, although he feels the homer's first bounce was probably on the road rather than on the roof of the lumber yard. That is actually more likely than my hypothesis, since it would require about 490 feet of carry rather than the 510 or so necessary to go a few more feet forward and hit the roof that high. I like his similar theory better, but when I created mine, I thought the road had been ruled out as a possibility.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaQA8Zn6jHA3LxJsVoVElN6ZNCr51hofxoxFSYrLgKKZePFCPge1di9znNBg4sn7ok1UR-_Wn15gSVaHXtw-8hNE-PT21EpTqKIHIbA_wWEEuKwOOFSrTrzTmjcnAlTrLL2PDBWm5ZUgD/s1600/briggs_homer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" width="660" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaQA8Zn6jHA3LxJsVoVElN6ZNCr51hofxoxFSYrLgKKZePFCPge1di9znNBg4sn7ok1UR-_Wn15gSVaHXtw-8hNE-PT21EpTqKIHIbA_wWEEuKwOOFSrTrzTmjcnAlTrLL2PDBWm5ZUgD/s1600/briggs_homer.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
One more case study ...<br />
<br />
Like Mantle's blast in Detroit, Josh Gibson's legendary blast out of Yankee Stadium started as a homer and grew into myth. In this case we don't need any physics to debunk it because it never left Yankee Stadium. It landed in the bullpen. Here are two articles (<a href="http://baseballguru.com/jholway/analysisjholway08.html">1</a>, <a href="http://espn.go.com/mlb/columns/story?columnist=neyer_rob&id=3403111">2</a>) which explore this matter in depth, using contemporary accounts and interviews with other players who were there that day. <br />
<br />
What about other 600-foot blasts from Gibson, Mantle and others? Once again, it is possible to hit a ball 600 feet with a massive tailwind, so don't assume every account is false, but remember that Mantle's blast out of Griffith Stadium, even if you believe the hype, did not go 600 feet, and that was Mickey Effin' Mantle with a tailwind which may have been as strong as 41 mph, so approach such accounts with caution and skepticism. And if you read about such a thing happening on a calm day or in an indoor stadium, well ... it never happened. Simple as that. <br />
<br />
A note written after the 2021 Home Run Derby: <a href="https://www.mlb.com/news/longest-homers-in-home-run-derby-history">This article</a> reported that the new record for a homer at sea level, without wind assistance, is 513 feet. That distance was reached by an Aaron Judge blast in Miami in 2017. That is very close to the maximum achievable under our tightly defined neutral conditions.
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-73908795636371366802016-01-02T16:58:00.002-08:002018-05-25T10:16:19.582-07:00Which power hitters were more (or less) powerful than you think?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
<h1>
A tale of two <strike>cities</strike> parks in one city</h1>
<br />
<br />
The last couple of decades have brought about a revolution in baseball statistics. Analysts like Bill James have given us new ways to view the raw data, while tireless researchers keep giving us ever more raw data to view. <br />
<br />
One thing that we have now that we did not have before is detailed home/road and park data. While not every stat has been broken down into home and away segments for baseball games from the deadball era and the 19th century, we have solid numbers for every season since 1920, and we have home run data dating back even before that time. This information sheds new light on some of our previous assumptions. When I was a boy, we saw these lifetime home run totals: <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/o/ottme01.shtml">Mel Ott</a> 511 (then the all-time NL leader), <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/d/dimagjo01.shtml">Joe DiMaggio</a> 361. We could see that Ott had far more at-bats, but there was a gap of 150 homers between them. The numbers seemed so decisive, right?<br />
<br />
Wrong.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSp0HIQ6FdLbdFcTpITWhGn3Ixx5186GeC6QvObCzM8rcOeh24LfZ2ZVv8bUCYUMj9UuDk6HAMDFafRZ20ZOcSLLopLc2r7j7jdeFilxsAJEX0FPRteYBrkopFONaSSHG05mhybye6oBLI/s1600/ottdimaggio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSp0HIQ6FdLbdFcTpITWhGn3Ixx5186GeC6QvObCzM8rcOeh24LfZ2ZVv8bUCYUMj9UuDk6HAMDFafRZ20ZOcSLLopLc2r7j7jdeFilxsAJEX0FPRteYBrkopFONaSSHG05mhybye6oBLI/s1600/ottdimaggio.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Ott was a left-handed hitter who played his entire career in the Polo Grounds, where the right field foul pole was about 250 feet away.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MyYkXyrRuvUawYPGLbAbsfZPkaSP6kuHkipq1cO2X5hmINxqolQw-wK6jO5GbILQv_uepZM-theb6tvF_raawr_WDPQuqT_1_NM-aoO0mkGQbRgYO5qDmbDVhsOKge8bdtXB1ndYvQwn/s1600/PoloGrounds.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MyYkXyrRuvUawYPGLbAbsfZPkaSP6kuHkipq1cO2X5hmINxqolQw-wK6jO5GbILQv_uepZM-theb6tvF_raawr_WDPQuqT_1_NM-aoO0mkGQbRgYO5qDmbDVhsOKge8bdtXB1ndYvQwn/s1600/PoloGrounds.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
DiMaggio played his entire career just across the river in Yankee Stadium. Yes, they were that close. See below.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRi1Wxg_2ezYI8pOGw2IK4sjdcFkTaFmgbqAGO_zR0TsCPjPsuycRtyNVgtZ3MjykAy12HmrUY6MRwLpeM8qjaWrLUOEBDlPYr0VW4u8-oqmwjNE7jXQ84SiObzsr84j7Wu1GPgNwz1q-f/s1600/polo_yankee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRi1Wxg_2ezYI8pOGw2IK4sjdcFkTaFmgbqAGO_zR0TsCPjPsuycRtyNVgtZ3MjykAy12HmrUY6MRwLpeM8qjaWrLUOEBDlPYr0VW4u8-oqmwjNE7jXQ84SiObzsr84j7Wu1GPgNwz1q-f/s1600/polo_yankee.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Here is how they were oriented, relative to the modern street grid, with North on top. The original Yankee Stadium, DiMaggio's haunt, is the one on the lower right. Just above it is the newer one.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUppOF4S4iYekI3pBvJ7pxtwmDfxfSoo9dbsORC4YZ2cpVODsPPN_ytqfRsQDdFr6L8mHnDGy11r4aQSn55G4g6TFd8_0RfTdwcH-VE-dXteyRzLPbjJreguYa0isaW6OI-3_KPpqgZImO/s1600/three_stadiums.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUppOF4S4iYekI3pBvJ7pxtwmDfxfSoo9dbsORC4YZ2cpVODsPPN_ytqfRsQDdFr6L8mHnDGy11r4aQSn55G4g6TFd8_0RfTdwcH-VE-dXteyRzLPbjJreguYa0isaW6OI-3_KPpqgZImO/s1600/three_stadiums.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The Bronx park was much friendlier to lefties than to the right-handed DiMaggio. That produced some freakish home/road splits in their home run stats.<br />
<br />
<center>
<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" style="text-align: center;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
Home</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
Away</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
Ott</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
323</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
188</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
DiMaggio</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
148</div>
</td>
<td valign="top"><div style="text-align: center;">
213</div>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</center>
<br />
<br />
Relative to each other's stats, their home parks made a difference of about 200 homers. If they had played their careers in neutral parks, assuming 2X their road numbers, DiMaggio would have finished with 50 more homers than Ott rather than 150 fewer!<br />
<br />
On a "per at-bat" basis, the difference is far more dramatic. DiMaggio hit a homer every 16 at bats on the road, while Ott connected every 26 trips. Over a hypothetical season of 550 at-bats, that would result in 34 homers for DiMaggio, 21 for Ott. DiMaggio was not only a better home run hitter than Ott, he was <u>far</u> better, beyond any shadow of doubt. If Mel Ott had neutral home/road stats, he would have finished with some 370 homers, about the same as Tony Perez or Gil Hodges. That means he was a good power hitter, but certainly not as good as we thought he was fifty years ago.<br />
<br />
And it could have gone much worse for him than "neutral." In his <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=ottme01&year=Career&t=b">career splits</a>, we see that he had 268 at-bats at Shibe Park and never hit a single homer, while batting .220. In Cincinnati he hit only thirteen homers in 699 at-bats.<br />
<br />This section makes it seem that I am disparaging Mel Ott, and that would be misleading. It's important to realize that while the Polo Grounds inflated his home run totals, Ott was an excellent hitter whose lifetime batting average was actually better on the road! In fact, he had more extra base hits on the road! His <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=ottme01&year=Career&t=b">lifetime splits</a> clearly indicate that the Polo Grounds basically just converted his doubles and triples to homers.<br />
<br />
Enough about Ott, already.<br />
<br />
<h1>
<br /></h1>
<h1>
<br /></h1>
<h1>
Who else benefited greatly from home parks?</h1>
<br />
<br />
To begin with, the lifetime totals are wildly and positively skewed for any lefty hitter who played in that rickety old wooden stadium known as the <a href="http://phillysportshistory.com/2012/07/01/the-best-baker-bowl-photos-on-the-internet-part-1/">Baker Bowl</a> or anyone who played in Coors Field.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBSoWhh5OMocvhfpabgog1ZaADiC5BLfVMzdtk3AoUoPjhUyzUCYX48jAIJh-yKHVKwZcI8bmjK69ubWo2SKDs5un_PF6MTZpPoHUCxT8QJPyBe5nOgZkQYz4SfhujdI5RYW-KXMmKH6lw/s1600/10_chuck_klein.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBSoWhh5OMocvhfpabgog1ZaADiC5BLfVMzdtk3AoUoPjhUyzUCYX48jAIJh-yKHVKwZcI8bmjK69ubWo2SKDs5un_PF6MTZpPoHUCxT8QJPyBe5nOgZkQYz4SfhujdI5RYW-KXMmKH6lw/s1600/10_chuck_klein.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/k/kleinch01.shtml">Chuck Klein</a> rode the Baker Bowl to the Hall of Fame. His lifetime batting average there was a phenomenal .395 with a .705 slugging average.<br />
<br />
<center>
<script src="http://widgets.sports-reference.com/wg.fcgi?css=1&site=br&url=%2Fplayers%2Fsplit.cgi%3Fid%3Dkleinch01%26year%3DCareer%26t%3Db&div=div_site&del_col=1,4,5,13,14,15,16,21,22,23,24,25,26,27,28,29" type="text/javascript"></script></center>
<br />
<br />
Throughout Klein's career, he hit 192 homers at home, only 108 on the road. The following representation of the Baker Bowl will show you why.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfMy1qHmuFLBe-tC9UnmBCBjephswW2NJbsiFw7oZPdRoA_05fUDACdxn_nQvai_IsQAiDEv_2P0opfZW2DaJqKKvQcrcMcT1gswrgyjv0bGsp4vcnuOeGYkqAqBiRvDQlXyMyLiywmSS5/s1600/BakerBowl-dimensions-021014.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfMy1qHmuFLBe-tC9UnmBCBjephswW2NJbsiFw7oZPdRoA_05fUDACdxn_nQvai_IsQAiDEv_2P0opfZW2DaJqKKvQcrcMcT1gswrgyjv0bGsp4vcnuOeGYkqAqBiRvDQlXyMyLiywmSS5/s1600/BakerBowl-dimensions-021014.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The Baker Bowl also affected Klein's fielding stats. He not only hit the ball toward the short right field fence, but he was also a right fielder. Once he learned how to play the wall and the tiny area available to him, he was able to use his strong arm to throw out a record number of runners who just didn't realize how fast he could retrieve the ball and how close he was to the infield. One year he amassed 44 outfield assists, a modern record which will probably never be approached, given that the highest total since World War II has been Roberto Clemente's 27 in 1961.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfuZOC7Wjk1gW_Wz64NWg5S9XsFaF7Nf3DZmrp3Jt-8OXp8wenKNQyOAlAstamJRPB4zFkimHOnNg4TtyF8O-brgVMScq8iUQr2RahylOUePqWvesBy2FEAL4f06PjLP0Dd8jb6uocL13x/s1600/cycards.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfuZOC7Wjk1gW_Wz64NWg5S9XsFaF7Nf3DZmrp3Jt-8OXp8wenKNQyOAlAstamJRPB4zFkimHOnNg4TtyF8O-brgVMScq8iUQr2RahylOUePqWvesBy2FEAL4f06PjLP0Dd8jb6uocL13x/s1600/cycards.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/willicy01.shtml">Cy Williams</a>, another lefty who played most of his career in the Baker Bowl, didn't make it into the Hall of Fame, but he won four home run crowns and the friendly Bowl was a major contributor to three of them. In 1920 he led the National League with 15 homers, 12 of them in the Bowl. By 1923, the National League had started to produce similar power numbers to the AL, and Williams blasted 26 homers at home. Throughout his career, he hit 167 dingers at home, just 84 on the road. Among all major leaguers with 250 or more homers, he has the highest percentage of his total at home (66%); Chuck Klein has the second-highest (64%). Both were lefties who played their home games primarily at the Baker Bowl.<br />
<br />
It's time for one of my famous barely-related digressions. You saw above how close Yankee Stadium was to the Polo Grounds. Just to save me another essay ("Major League Neighbors"), here's an aerial of the Baker Bowl (background) and Shibe Park (foreground), which were used simultaneously for about three decades (1909-1938), and were only a few blocks apart on Lehigh Avenue.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6kHfGUAal1NDXyrjMRgRwgg8yBmXT1xMLUQeyEJge7InTzE8Y_jgswmDvXlsY4SOUS4IbpmTonVvWc1Oe6WnwE93YlqgYra3XUvfqQUqlrfYHdqwVxPYRc505fzIuQIfDjY9pCr3ld0af/s1600/Shibe_Park_and_Baker_Bowl-aerial.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6kHfGUAal1NDXyrjMRgRwgg8yBmXT1xMLUQeyEJge7InTzE8Y_jgswmDvXlsY4SOUS4IbpmTonVvWc1Oe6WnwE93YlqgYra3XUvfqQUqlrfYHdqwVxPYRc505fzIuQIfDjY9pCr3ld0af/s1600/Shibe_Park_and_Baker_Bowl-aerial.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Damn, those old ballparks always look so depressing in black and white. I have to think that doesn't convey the feeling of what it was like to pass a day at the park. Here's what they looked like when they were young and fresh.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBsngSMW-dgR9PJCovz-M4yTSed2_weSx44xp8QQkgeE2SmPu2g1c71bZ4T0Bfn7nAPLxwKZw0505VCbyy99KVroHf8EaJW7OAQU23O77OV3yjwQnusM5iv33M-FL8hWbOzdL0AYZDwCy/s1600/Shibe_Park_and_Baker_Bowl-facade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBsngSMW-dgR9PJCovz-M4yTSed2_weSx44xp8QQkgeE2SmPu2g1c71bZ4T0Bfn7nAPLxwKZw0505VCbyy99KVroHf8EaJW7OAQU23O77OV3yjwQnusM5iv33M-FL8hWbOzdL0AYZDwCy/s1600/Shibe_Park_and_Baker_Bowl-facade.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Here's how the parks were aligned, relative to a Google Maps image of the neighborhood today, You can enlarge the image by clicking on it.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-qzdJVzlk_u6j0SWLz_I8AaOA6ItRgcvstgoDBysvFtoCW33yucYtv_JN2FQ1RGBvh6e8-v029L0Y8qEeG0p4qX0QPlopkMpArx1Yo3sNomaM_pb6CJx3dJVI5qsllaN_iPbBnMAxsT1n/s1600/ShibeBaker-areatoday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-qzdJVzlk_u6j0SWLz_I8AaOA6ItRgcvstgoDBysvFtoCW33yucYtv_JN2FQ1RGBvh6e8-v029L0Y8qEeG0p4qX0QPlopkMpArx1Yo3sNomaM_pb6CJx3dJVI5qsllaN_iPbBnMAxsT1n/s640/ShibeBaker-areatoday.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Enough of the digressions. If you love those old parks as much as I do, there is a site called <a href="http://www.ballparksofbaseball.com/">BallparksofBaseball.com</a> which is just filled with images, data and stories about them (and the newer parks as well). Check it out. I especially enjoy looking at how the parks used to fit into the city grids, and how the same blocks look today, post-stadium. We now return to our regularly scheduled program.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY6J8whnKn56ahmCHjPEWrD7oTGUi0dx46gaUssSQpzDpOh7K2JJhj9mWVe3qpdBfy1juX406wb9XB_sbOnyOPTcYw6CnujrMlSX6w4qvDMxiKriCMxV6mpUPS-kIopDvobJjEXC8W1PnQ/s1600/helton1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY6J8whnKn56ahmCHjPEWrD7oTGUi0dx46gaUssSQpzDpOh7K2JJhj9mWVe3qpdBfy1juX406wb9XB_sbOnyOPTcYw6CnujrMlSX6w4qvDMxiKriCMxV6mpUPS-kIopDvobJjEXC8W1PnQ/s1600/helton1.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/h/heltoto01.shtml">Todd Helton</a> played his entire career for the Rockies. He was the Chuck Klein of Coors Field. Over the course of his career, he batted .345 at Coors with 32 homers per 162 games and a .607 slugging average. On the road he batted .287 with 20 homers per 162 games and a .469 slugging average. Those three elements are almost identical to Chuck Klein's lifetime road performance (.286, 20, .466). He hit 227 homers in Coors, 142 on the road throughout his career.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_r4Cd_nVwL-MRS0HcjCGrdfOabadAa2x9ETvRZ938xxW4GhgmQCVW-YPf64mzZiQ9Hj9Fi5oYkfs1gzLo9KUBgr3Z6LG4UW848W1RA189IpOr3FI6OmveHWMW7oO0hpsJox65SaDX1iP6/s1600/walker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_r4Cd_nVwL-MRS0HcjCGrdfOabadAa2x9ETvRZ938xxW4GhgmQCVW-YPf64mzZiQ9Hj9Fi5oYkfs1gzLo9KUBgr3Z6LG4UW848W1RA189IpOr3FI6OmveHWMW7oO0hpsJox65SaDX1iP6/s1600/walker.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/walkela01.shtml">Larry Walker</a>'s performance in Coors was even better than Helton's. He batted .381 there, with 41 homers per 162 games and a .710 slugging average. His comparable lifetime averages on the road were .278, 27, .495. Factoring out the effect of their home parks, Walker was a slightly better hitter than Klein or Helton. His lifetime home/road stats are not as dramatic as Helton's because he played in other home parks throughout his career, but overall he hit 215 homers at home, only 168 on the road.
<br />
<br />
Here are two other well established sluggers with dramatic home/road splits that worked in their favor.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtH43b0RoNt-WIAqWrKgKF7QPw_3QMld2dvKJeqfA8i2n8CN5_sou5iAwj5V5tVyQvAGzt51X6qOBQ3OY7gpTz38ScRMVrGi13p50YiMlJgm3iSHdAwM3eD-1LUrmVJJRGjzJctq6tYA0w/s1600/1967RonSanto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtH43b0RoNt-WIAqWrKgKF7QPw_3QMld2dvKJeqfA8i2n8CN5_sou5iAwj5V5tVyQvAGzt51X6qOBQ3OY7gpTz38ScRMVrGi13p50YiMlJgm3iSHdAwM3eD-1LUrmVJJRGjzJctq6tYA0w/s1600/1967RonSanto.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/santoro01.shtml">Ron Santo</a>: 216 at home, 126 on the road. Wrigley Field has been a tremendous hitter's park in some years, not so much in others, presumably based on the <a href="http://www.hardballtimes.com/the-physics-of-wind-at-the-remodeled-wrigley-field/">unpredictable wind direction and velocity in Chicago</a>. Overall, it was very beneficial to Ron Santo's career. Santo received the most dramatic benefit from Wrigley Field, but his long-time teammates, <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=bankser01&year=Career&t=b">Ernie Banks</a> and <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=willibi01&year=Career&t=b">Billy Williams</a>, also loved the "friendly confines." Banks hit 290 homers at home, only 222 on the road. Williams hit 245 at home, 181 on the road. Wrigley probably added 50-100 homers to each of their careers. Those confines seem to be friendly to batters on both sides of the box. Santo and Banks batted right-handed, while Williams swung from the port side.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqrJ4dUIwguRTFdH3Aan9cl6mFqeUy9ODiPMCduslPq1ZIM2yYeMp0bt04iHbkXs2eoCQTd9Xylw7nJ2srMwTZ4HnVUJf6PtKisZxW3VuM5upuy_1HRBjl_YGTbC9mmrV9IFTm72cnB7Oq/s1600/hank_greenberg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqrJ4dUIwguRTFdH3Aan9cl6mFqeUy9ODiPMCduslPq1ZIM2yYeMp0bt04iHbkXs2eoCQTd9Xylw7nJ2srMwTZ4HnVUJf6PtKisZxW3VuM5upuy_1HRBjl_YGTbC9mmrV9IFTm72cnB7Oq/s1600/hank_greenberg.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/g/greenha01.shtml">Hank Greenberg</a>: 205 at home, 126 on the road. Greenberg absolutely owned that park in Detroit. In 1938 he hit 39 homers at home, a record which has never been broken. That's the same number Bonds hit at home when he poled 73 in 2001. McGwire hit 38 and 37 at home in his two big years. In 1937, Greenberg had 101 RBI at home, which seems eye-popping until you see the 1930 numbers for Hack Wilson, who drove in 116 runs at home that year. (That's not a typo.) Wilson's numbers are even more impressive when you consider that <a href="http://static01.nyt.com/images/2014/08/20/sports/CITY-JP-KEPNER-2/CITY-JP-KEPNER-2-articleLarge.jpg">the man was not that much taller than Eddie Gaedel</a>.
<br />
<br />
<h1>
<br /></h1>
<h1>
<br /></h1>
<h1>
Which players were hurt by their home parks?</h1>
<br />
<br />
The three primary power hitters of the old Milwaukee Braves (Aaron, Adcock, Mathews) were hurt by County Stadium. All three of them are even more powerful than you think they are. I don't know the scientific explanation for it because the dimensions of the park were symmetrical and typical, and there was nothing very unusual about Milwaukee weather conditions, but the ball was just dead there, and that park really slowed down the home run hitters. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjddcEqZUVdsLQstfjjpiij55_89AztLF_0gWe268FlJZxMAhDzK2pqIyvBdZ4UHdrjBff1bET_gbwKxa-PvuNEhBFLDUxQ1HkJOk7Q4w8H7yJiHWrfyL29wreyg07XyrcKWY4dHAA4IWjD/s1600/AaronMathewsAdcock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjddcEqZUVdsLQstfjjpiij55_89AztLF_0gWe268FlJZxMAhDzK2pqIyvBdZ4UHdrjBff1bET_gbwKxa-PvuNEhBFLDUxQ1HkJOk7Q4w8H7yJiHWrfyL29wreyg07XyrcKWY4dHAA4IWjD/s1600/AaronMathewsAdcock.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/a/aaronha01.shtml">Henry Aaron</a>'s career home/road breakdown doesn't reflect it, because he was able to balance off the Milwaukee years with some great home park advantages in Atlanta, but Aaron was affected substantially by having played in County Stadium. You know that Aaron never hit 50 homers in a season, thereby denying him a special place in the baseball pantheon, but he had three separate years in Milwaukee when he hit at least 25 on the road. A road total like that normally guarantees 50 for the year, but Aaron finished with 44-45-44 those years. In his twelve years with the Braves in Milwaukee he hit 185 homers in County Stadium and 213 on the road (his ratio was 10:12 when he played for the Brewers, for a composite of 195-225 at Milwaukee County Stadium), but after the Braves left Wisconsin, Aaron hit 190 at home for them and 145 on the road, so his lifetime totals just about balanced out (385-370).<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/m/matheed01.shtml">Ed Mathews</a> wasn't so lucky. He played most of his career with the Milwaukee Braves, and thus finished with 238 at home, 274 on the road. In his biggest year (1953), he hit only 17 at home, but 30 on the road. In his second biggest year (1959), it was 20/26.<br />
<br />
Big <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/a/adcocjo01.shtml">Joe Adcock</a> seems to have been affected the most of the three. He hit 137 at home, 199 on the road. During his Milwaukee years in was 104/135.<br />
<br />
Mathews was a lefty, the other two batted right-handed. The park seems to have played no favorites in that regard.<br />
<br />
The relative impact of County Stadium vs. Wrigley Field really starts to appear immense when aggregated for several sluggers. The table below contrasts two famous slugging trios of the 50s through 70s: the Cubs (Banks, Williams, Santo) and the Braves (Aaron, Mathews, Adcock). The numbers are their lifetime home run totals<br />
<br />
<center>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><br>
</td>
<td valign="top">Home<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">Road<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Cubs Trio<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">751<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">529<br>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td valign="top">Braves Trio<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">754<br>
</td>
<td valign="top">839<br>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table></center><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cGUfC0pQ2X2Nw_sKIFPOWbfvVQR5NR6GcUbTd-4Wo76IB64ogOGr-0Oo2ODO1MaTfDB0ek5O_3fpGRimYGPwxUu_BOMszLzCeP1I13DqMp09y6mg2iIKjrfNW0BBLTvxvRYpWlHAT2u-/s1600/goslin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-cGUfC0pQ2X2Nw_sKIFPOWbfvVQR5NR6GcUbTd-4Wo76IB64ogOGr-0Oo2ODO1MaTfDB0ek5O_3fpGRimYGPwxUu_BOMszLzCeP1I13DqMp09y6mg2iIKjrfNW0BBLTvxvRYpWlHAT2u-/s1600/goslin.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Finally there is the special case of <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/g/gosligo01.shtml">Goose Goslin</a>. Baseball writers and fans didn't know much about how to analyze stats back in the day, but even then they knew that the Goose was getting cooked by cavernous Griffith Stadium. It all became obvious in 1926 when Goslin hit 17 homers on the road - and zero, zilch, nada at Griffith. People started to realize that he wasn't a guy with mid-teen homer power, as he had always appeared to be, but a true power hitter capable of big numbers in the right environment. That proved to be more than theoretical when the Senators dealt him off to the St Louis Browns, and he proceeded to hit 37 homers for the year - even though he spent the first third of the season in Griffith Stadium, where he hit only three homers in 135 trips. That trade probably got the ol' Goose in the Hall of Fame. People had already known that he was an RBI machine, since he knocked in 90 or more runs thirteen times in his career, but he had never hit as many as twenty homers in any season before that one, and the fact that he finally put up a big homer number certified his credentials as a slugger. By the way, that's the same number of 90+ RBI seasons as the great Jimmy Foxx, even though the Goose could not muster even half as many homers as Double X. Goslin finished his career with more than 1600 RBI, more than Mike Schmidt, although he had only 248 homers. One wonders what kind of RBI numbers he might have accrued at the Baker Bowl. Over the course of their careers, Goose actually hit far more road homers (156) than Chuck Klein (108), but he hit only 92 at home, compared to 192 for Klein. Even that ostensibly extreme ratio has been moderated by the fact that he got to spend a few years out of Griffith Stadium in the second half of his career. In the 1920s, playing exclusively at Griffith, he averaged only three homers per year in his home park, amassing a mere 24 at home for the entire decade, as contrasted to 84 on the road.
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-39291416764292190602016-01-01T23:59:00.000-08:002016-01-02T15:45:27.279-08:00The Diamond Anniversary of the Summer of 1941<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
I am writing this at the beginning of 2016, a year which will mark the Diamond Anniversary of baseball's greatest summer and America's last year of innocence. At the beginning of 1941, the two mightiest countries in the world, the United States and the Soviet Union, somehow thought they could remain almost uninvolved as Hitler's legions swept across Europe while Japan attempted to conquer China. That naivete would be shattered that year, first in June, when the German tanks made their way toward Moscow:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyBcL_E27xMgtWUCDH7HS8Lgz_hxYPpriEZs_NGNsLL_-KsgANVi6AU1915K7FFx06vH_CKUGNOpAL7MPkyy2Mqc-NUMrf_8Qo1vNkk3zMEJBpWO9vVUQYIkn8bAZ7VPqVqm_3X9Ix93E/s1600/0622-badfaitha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyBcL_E27xMgtWUCDH7HS8Lgz_hxYPpriEZs_NGNsLL_-KsgANVi6AU1915K7FFx06vH_CKUGNOpAL7MPkyy2Mqc-NUMrf_8Qo1vNkk3zMEJBpWO9vVUQYIkn8bAZ7VPqVqm_3X9Ix93E/s1600/0622-badfaitha.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Then again in December, when the Japanese executed their stealth attack on Pearl Harbor on the Day of Infamy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbkp9WyqTefG4mSDBe2OplOXIYmllicAGX8m5zG6GXpfaVOWrYAQTQ0V7CQbQ9B7JIct0_0rWXhovRvSN0kYxpY3VJW67kBoo9_kkNS13DCqXlLQlmAwyvrruHhrKTszlf77Jf8ng5RSO/s1600/war.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbkp9WyqTefG4mSDBe2OplOXIYmllicAGX8m5zG6GXpfaVOWrYAQTQ0V7CQbQ9B7JIct0_0rWXhovRvSN0kYxpY3VJW67kBoo9_kkNS13DCqXlLQlmAwyvrruHhrKTszlf77Jf8ng5RSO/s1600/war.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
In spite of the drama in Europe, and oblivious of the Hawaiian tragedy to come, the baseball season proceeded normally, and eventually became wonderful. Nothing happened in April or early May to offer a glimpse of the glorious events yet to transpire. The ever-dominant New York Yankees seemed to be sluggish as they came out of the gate. They were 14-14 on May 14th, and they dropped uncharacteristically below .500 on the following day when they were shellacked by the Chicago White Sox. But something special happened for the Yankees in that May 15th loss. Their star hitter, Joe DiMaggio, broke out of an embarrassing eleven-game slump in which he had batted .195 with no homers and a single RBI. He had gone hitless in seven of those eleven games, and the proud Yankees had gone 3-8 in that period.<br />
<br />
Then, on May 15th, as recorded in the 1941 newspaper article below, he noticed a flaw in his batting stance: his toe wasn't planted correctly.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukBxF9YICSbrjGjLB5zqe5v7sai6tS7cSBAXeiq3ChCNnD2sCXREIP0iU8iY8QstuhqQ5j2B7oWfiIHsJH69ZXCUmOtcLY0ZkZCLxhBHkEjdeme1h5ZkgEmrgYmtfXeyCYTaIV805SoKQ/s1600/1941-07-07-Dimagio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukBxF9YICSbrjGjLB5zqe5v7sai6tS7cSBAXeiq3ChCNnD2sCXREIP0iU8iY8QstuhqQ5j2B7oWfiIHsJH69ZXCUmOtcLY0ZkZCLxhBHkEjdeme1h5ZkgEmrgYmtfXeyCYTaIV805SoKQ/s1600/1941-07-07-Dimagio.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The toe was the key. The slump was over. Joe D's lone hit on May 15th didn't seem like much at the time: just a single to bat in the Yankees' only run in a humiliating 13-1 loss. <br />
<br />
But it was an omen.<br />
<br />
DiMaggio would not go hitless again until July 17th. Through game after game, <a href="http://www.joedimaggio.com/joe-dimaggio-hitting-streak/">56 in all</a>, DiMaggio punished pitcher after pitcher, and motivated baseball historians to start combing the record books. <a href="http://goldenrankings.com/DiMaggioStreak3.htm#40">At 41 games</a>, on my mother's 21st birthday, he tied the existing 20th century record set by George Sisler in 1922, <a href="http://goldenrankings.com/DiMaggioStreak3.htm#42">then broke it the following day</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXTZKlS0czSWh27EUhKOuN_EbvstZUQ4SD5PqY8QlN7hRWl1GAeFvmdiqd2Cfm3AIPKtJV2XCN07ITyzEGbtHOfnXPnNLyFoo8fDopj1VrMfmM32k8-taTCtOvPRCZ7paUN1C52WhQz5f4/s1600/beating_sisler.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXTZKlS0czSWh27EUhKOuN_EbvstZUQ4SD5PqY8QlN7hRWl1GAeFvmdiqd2Cfm3AIPKtJV2XCN07ITyzEGbtHOfnXPnNLyFoo8fDopj1VrMfmM32k8-taTCtOvPRCZ7paUN1C52WhQz5f4/s1600/beating_sisler.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The only player left between DiMaggio and complete dominance was an old-timer named Wee Willie Keeler, a 5'4", 140 lb. hitting machine with a lifetime .341 batting average, who had gained a measure of fame with an eminently quotable explanation of his hitting success: "I hit 'em where they ain't." In 1897, Keeler had begun his most remarkable season with a 44-game hitting streak. The little rapscallion would finish the year at .424.<br />
<br />
DiMaggio <a href="http://goldenrankings.com/DiMaggioStreak4.htm#44">tied Keeler</a> in the second game of a July 1st doubleheader, then <a href="http://goldenrankings.com/dimaggiostreak4.htm#45">passed him on the 2nd of July</a>.<br />
<br />
He wasn't even close to being done. He had eleven more games to go. The Yankee Clipper had put his team on the deck and set sail. In those 56 games, the Yankees would amass 41 wins to take a six game lead in the standings. They would not falter the following day, either, despite <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/packages/html/sports/year_in_sports/07.17.html">the end of their young slugger's streak</a>, as they defeated the Indians 4-3. DiMaggio's streak had electrified the nation, and its terminus was worthy of headlines.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixnfKbIsQnhxLBd94hpzgHo0Q_cZ7JHq5zJsIteRdm2Eg7viFtrE68jnnREcyMRpQC0dShw2oIvvyh1z6oygLOJUsWbw9xx3uP7PkNojfoX37qWA8ROrjKXntV9OIxy0Y_Lg6xJskDhVNI/s1600/itsover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixnfKbIsQnhxLBd94hpzgHo0Q_cZ7JHq5zJsIteRdm2Eg7viFtrE68jnnREcyMRpQC0dShw2oIvvyh1z6oygLOJUsWbw9xx3uP7PkNojfoX37qWA8ROrjKXntV9OIxy0Y_Lg6xJskDhVNI/s1600/itsover.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The Bronx Bombers would not have to wait long for their ship to carry them further, for The Clipper still had more wind in his sails. After his hitless game, he proceeded to hit in the next 16 games, during which the Yankees went 13-3 to take an insurmountable twelve and a half game lead. DiMaggio had hit in 72 out of 73 games.<br />
<br />
Not generally noted is the fact that DiMaggio had reached base on a walk in that one game without a hit, and had also walked in the game preceding his streak, giving him an astounding record of having reached base in 74 consecutive games, stretching from May 15th until August 2nd. The Yankees went 55-17 in that period (with two ties, because night ball was still in its infancy), on their way toward 101 wins in a season which had started 14-15. <br />
<br />
Excluding records which have been assured permanence by changes in the game, like Cy Young's record of 749 complete games, or Yogi Berra's 71 World Series hits, DiMaggio's streak is probably considered the most unbreakable record in the game. Nobody ever came close to it before, and nobody has come close since. Nobody else ever hit in as many as 50 consecutive games. Nobody else ever hit in more than 45. Think of it this way: DiMaggio actually had eleven hitting streaks of 46 games or more in his career (games 1-46 of his streak, 2-47, ... 11-56), while nobody else ever had a single one. <a href="http://johnny-web.com/dimaggio/dimaggio7.htm">Here's how the math works</a>: if DiMaggio himself were to come back and produce the exact same statistics he actually produced in 1941, the odds would be 7518-1 against his hitting in 56 consecutive games. If you really care about all the probability calculations involving this and other hitting streaks, <a href="http://johnny-web.com/dimaggio/dimaggio.htm">I once wrote a long and complicated treatise</a> on this subject, which is so tedious that it is now boring even to me as I read it 15 years later.<br />
<br />
Is any modern player likely to break the record?<br />
<br />
I guess you didn't read up to here, huh? <br />
<br />
No modern player is as likely to hit in 56 consecutive games as Ty Cobb or George Sisler or Rogers Hornsby. No modern player is anywhere near that likely, and yet even those players never came close to 56.<br />
<br />
The answer is no. The obvious reason is that even if Joe DiMaggio himself could come back as an immortal being and hit as well as he did in 1941 every year for the next several thousand years, he would not be likely to duplicate the streak of 56. It was a fluke. It was nearly a miracle. If you believe in miracles, maybe it was one in a time that needed one.<br />
<br />
But we are not finished with our tale of the magical summer before Pearl Harbor. DiMaggio's streak was the personal highlight of his career and probably would have been the highlight of anyone's career. During that 56-game period from May 15th until July 16th, he batted .408 with an OPS of 1.180.<br />
<br />
Making him the second-best hitter in the American League during that period.
<br />
<br />
Say what?
<br />
<br />
That's right. Ted Williams was such a good hitter that he out-hit DiMaggio DURING the legendary streak that has never come close to being matched.
<br />
<br />
Here's what they did from May 15th through July 16th:
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" bgcolor="#000000" border="0" cellpadding="4"
cellspacing="4">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff"><br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff"><a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.cgi?id=willite01&t=b&year=1941">Williams</a><br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff"><a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.cgi?id=dimagjo01&t=b&year=1941">DiMaggio</a><br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">Games<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">55<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">56<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">AB<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">187<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">223<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">H<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">77<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">91<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">BB<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">50<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">21<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">Times on base<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">127<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">112<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">R<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">61<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">56<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">RBI<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">50<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">55<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">BA<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">.412<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">.408<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">OBP<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">.540<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">.463<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">SLG<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">.684<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">.717<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">OPS<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">1.224<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
<td align="center" valign="top"><small><font face="Verdana"><b><font
color="#ffffff">1.180<br>
</font></b></font></small></td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<br />
<br />
And in fact Williams was so good that this was a below-average portion of his season! Both his on-base percentage and his slugging average were higher for the entire year than they were in that period. That brings us to the second great story of that summer. It was the last time any major leaguer ever hit .400. That particular player would be the same Mr. Teddy Ballgame, who finished the 1941 season at .406. And, yes sir, they had baseball bubble gum cards in 1941.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjekWU4Pt8uiJV0ZH-Qw4693f0Vox4bFrSUW0UFgS0l3oKx7vIEdJjUQZwNuJHcqUoSRnJpH9mt991Yq2AX-1gattlo0MQIQ-ZqDFdii6DRZINMATO32H6addJdixCL8IgAE8EMPHwZRz/s1600/1941_williams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjekWU4Pt8uiJV0ZH-Qw4693f0Vox4bFrSUW0UFgS0l3oKx7vIEdJjUQZwNuJHcqUoSRnJpH9mt991Yq2AX-1gattlo0MQIQ-ZqDFdii6DRZINMATO32H6addJdixCL8IgAE8EMPHwZRz/s1600/1941_williams.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Williams <a href="http://sabr.org/research/day-ted-williams-became-last-400-hitter-baseball">closed out the .400 season in spectacular fashion</a>. You may have read the story before or heard it from an old-timer, but the yarn about the last day of the season bears repeating. Williams went into the final day of 1941 hitting exactly .400, rounded up from .39955. He had been at .413 after the September 10th game, but in the next thirteen games he had slumped, batting only .268, and he was just plain flat at the plate. Since the Yankees had already clinched the pennant by a mile, Williams' manager, Joe Cronin, offered to let the Splendid Splinter sit out the final double-header to assure a .400 season and a place in history. Williams wanted no part of it. He got a hit in his first at bat to place him comfortably above .400, and still refused to sit. He played the entire double-header, went 6-for-8, and finished at .406, landing him <a href="https://c.o0bg.com/rf/image_1920w/Boston/2011-2020/2015/09/28/BostonGlobe.com/Sports/Images/tedwilliams.jpg">on the front page</a> of the Boston Globe, right there with the Nazis.<br />
<br />
Here's a detail you probably had not heard. Under modern rules, Williams batted .411 that year. From <a href="http://research.sabr.org/journals/sacrifice-fly">1931 to 1953, except for 1939</a>, a run-scoring fly ball counted as a failed time at bat. Williams had six such at-bats that summer, none of which would have counted against his batting average in any year after 1953.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgryYOMkrMJ5gZpP6iHMhPH2-vltEbuduv6Wu983jCztfTnMW15gAWbQdpfN5hi8nL3ZZJDJExPkkr5BfiyxAyAW8EiioMJbAUQWAGnQHmhOnK65QkI6p1qIBlJc_bOzYgM4s4QFAgxK-sA/s1600/sidebar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgryYOMkrMJ5gZpP6iHMhPH2-vltEbuduv6Wu983jCztfTnMW15gAWbQdpfN5hi8nL3ZZJDJExPkkr5BfiyxAyAW8EiioMJbAUQWAGnQHmhOnK65QkI6p1qIBlJc_bOzYgM4s4QFAgxK-sA/s200/sidebar.jpg" /></a></div>
Baseball's high sheriffs kept going back and forth on sacrifices. There was even a brief period (1926-1930) when a batter was not charged with a time at bat any time a runner was able to tag up and advance to <u>any</u> base after a fly ball out. The executives changed that rule and made some other adjustments when they realized that batting averages were going through the roof. In 1930 the entire National League batted .303; in 1931 only .277.<br />
<br />
<br />
1941 did not mark the last time Ted Williams would show up Dimaggio's hitting feats. He never amassed a long hit streak because he took so many walks, but he finally beat the 74-game on-base streak in his 1949 MVP season, actually unremarked at the time, when <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.cgi?id=willite01&t=b&year=1949&share=2.85#1097-1180-sum:batting_gamelogs">he reached base in 84 consecutive games</a>, from July 1 almost to the end of the year.<br />
<br />
Williams' superior hitting did not win him the 1941 MVP, however. The DiMaggio streak was followed by every sports fan in America, plus DiMaggio was a smooth centerfielder who carried his team to a spectacular runaway victory in the 1941 pennant race. And many people found Ted Williams to be an arrogant dick. Those factors were considered by the electors, who made Joltin' Joe the 1941 MVP.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAif2oPU1S4c7qqqSrQKXv2YiKEnY1F40h016sRrvEiVBlmrnB5SD38gKQNCzjXpJvBridRYVoF0zOOBtGv_q5xnnvtNeioSizpUEi7RdpyEFXHJTM1FzoM_5KDqeu33knMrV598VI02o/s1600/mvp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAif2oPU1S4c7qqqSrQKXv2YiKEnY1F40h016sRrvEiVBlmrnB5SD38gKQNCzjXpJvBridRYVoF0zOOBtGv_q5xnnvtNeioSizpUEi7RdpyEFXHJTM1FzoM_5KDqeu33knMrV598VI02o/s1600/mvp.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650016171809490055.post-62026134438524388412016-01-01T23:43:00.001-08:002021-12-06T15:53:09.088-08:00The bizarre 1926 NL batting championship<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;" trbidi="on">
If you look at the National League batting champions in the 1920s, you will see, for the most part, a litany of familiar names.
<br />
<blockquote>
Rogers Hornsby leads the parade, unsurprisingly, considering that his <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/h/hornsro01.shtml#1920-1929-sum:batting_standard">batting average for the decade</a> was a lofty .382. Hornsby took seven of the ten batting championships available in the 1920s.
(Astoundingly, that gave him neither the record for the highest batting average, nor the one for the most titles, in a decade. Ty Cobb batted .387 in the 1910-1919 period, leading the league in nine of the ten years.)</blockquote>
Two of the other championships went to superstars as well:<br />
<blockquote>
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/wanerpa01.shtml">Paul Waner</a>, a Hall of Famer with a .333 lifetime average, won in 1927, when Hornsby slumped to a mere .363 and had to settle for second place behind Waner's .380.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/o/o'doule01.shtml">Lefty O'Doul</a> won in 1929. Hornsby hit .380 that year, but O'Doul went hog wild and batted .398.</blockquote>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyKgFSEmavGKjOnmHwERq6AlInGuhhgX0kb7p00W1rw5bywdeG_AVvh3yMG3t-wMqh_cdNKZi9-N3mj2IvwW3uI8U4OOSC5LBfl8HH7S9kpwvYtBXXj6SP5jVZcgLVZxSM042rhAJBPphH/s1600/leftycards1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyKgFSEmavGKjOnmHwERq6AlInGuhhgX0kb7p00W1rw5bywdeG_AVvh3yMG3t-wMqh_cdNKZi9-N3mj2IvwW3uI8U4OOSC5LBfl8HH7S9kpwvYtBXXj6SP5jVZcgLVZxSM042rhAJBPphH/s1600/leftycards1.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This brings us to the first of what will undoubtedly be many digressions: the saga of Lefty O'Doul. He had a lifetime batting average of .349. Outside of the Negro Leagues, only three men in the 20th century finished with a higher average. You've heard of them: Ty Cobb, Rogers Hornsby and Shoeless Joe Jackson. Yet O'Doul is not in the Hall of Fame. You are wondering why, because he did not play in a distant time with different rules, but alongside Ruth, Gehrig, Hornsby and the other great stars of the 20s. It's because his career was quite short. In fact it didn't really start until he was 31 years old.<br />
<br />
You see, Frank O'Doul came up as a pitcher. From 1917 until 1924, including four different major league seasons during that period, he was struggling to prove his merit on the mound. It just never worked out for him. In those four major league seasons he pitched a total of only 77 innings, although he was on the major league roster for the entire year in each of those seasons. He always showed enough in spring training to make the teams, but spent those summers on the far end of the bench. One of the great stories O'Doul told on himself involved a day when he went to the race track in a rainstorm, assuming that day's doubleheader would be cancelled. When he saw the early baseball results posted at the track, he realized he had already missed most of the first game, so he dashed from Belmont Park down to the Polo Grounds and got his uniform on, fearing draconian retribution from manager Miller Huggins. No need to fear. He joined the team in the locker room between games, and Huggins was completely unaware that his player had been missing. Judging by how much Huggins used him in 1919-1920, a whopping eight innings in two years, O'Doul could probably have taken another full-time job and still collected his Yankee paycheck. I doubt that Huggins knew his name.<br />
<br />
The Yankees eventually let him go to the Red Sox, where he got a little more work, but failed to impress anyone sufficiently to get called back for a second season, so it was back to the minors for O'Doul in 1924, where he experimented with playing the outfield on some days when he wasn't pitching. His outfielding was notably awful, but how that man could hit! He went 7-9 as a pitcher, but batted .392 for the season. Finally, somebody seems to have looked him in the eye and said, "Frank, you suck as a pitcher, but you're about the greatest hitter I've seen." I'm assuming that happened because O'Doul came back in 1925 as a full-time outfielder in the Pacific Coast League. In his very first full season as a batsman, he had 309 hits, including 63 doubles, 17 triples and 24 dingers. Only the minors? Hardly. His first full season as an outfielder in the major leagues, at age 32, was the .398 season mentioned above, with a power kicker of 32 homers and 122 RBI.<br />
<br />
Should he be in the Hall of Fame? He would have my vote. His lifetime average of .349 was not an empty one. It was backed by a .945 OPS, which is just a bit higher than Willie Mays, Shoeless Joe Jackson and Ty Cobb. That's an impressive trio to equal, let alone top. His power stats did benefit from playing in tiny Baker Bowl, and that park did inflate his overall performance substantially in 1929, but his <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/split.cgi?id=o%27doule01&year=Career&t=b">lifetime road batting average was just about as good as his home mark</a> (.347, .352), so he was just plain good.<br />
<br />
His overall contribution to baseball was as important as his performance with the bat, particularly in the San Francisco area, where he played ball in high school and with the minor league Seals, then worked as a player/manager with the Seals for years, and then later became a hitting instructor with the major league Giants. And he was good at those jobs! The following is cited from <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/b820a06c">his SABR bio</a>:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
"O'Doul managed the Seals through 1951. On November 3, 1937, San Francisco owner Charlie Graham gave him a contract to manage the club 'for life.' The Seals won the championship in 1935 and took four straight pennants from 1943-1946. O'Doul was mentioned many times as a potential major league manager, but it never happened. He was named Minor League Manager of the Year in 1945 by The Sporting News. After the National League Giants relocated to San Francisco, O'Doul served as a part-time hitting instructor from 1958-1961. He was a renowned baseball teacher, especially of hitting. Over the years, O'Doul tutored some of the best in the game. Joe and Dom DiMaggio started their careers with his San Francisco clubs. His many other pupils included Ted Williams, Willie Mays and Willie McCovey. In 2002 O'Doul was elected to the Japanese Baseball Hall of Fame for his promotion of the sport, particularly in helping to restore friendly relations between the United States and Japan after World War II."<br />
<br /></blockquote>
When O'Doul wasn't managing or teaching baseball, he was promoting it in his famous sports bar. To this day, nearly 50 years after his death, <a href="http://www.leftyodouls.biz/">Lefty O'Doul's</a> is still promoting baseball, and is one of the landmark watering holes in the San Francisco Area.<br />
<br />
In essence, this guy was a great hitter and everything baseball is supposed to be about, in my opinion. Give me a Hall of Fame ballot, and he'll be at or near the top of my list. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo6wShriX6AeuH9QHro5zW_c2CsF-S5xLz6JcQH2eIoRt6oVuH1ycgdY2AdhZslezq9BK-d5FAX6hTxsgMU8es4QmFYhrOHT30JP7ZqeX-pq3lsy0l_YAdbQaEcWgdRQ-u8wUUC5oTsBlg/s1600/odouls.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo6wShriX6AeuH9QHro5zW_c2CsF-S5xLz6JcQH2eIoRt6oVuH1ycgdY2AdhZslezq9BK-d5FAX6hTxsgMU8es4QmFYhrOHT30JP7ZqeX-pq3lsy0l_YAdbQaEcWgdRQ-u8wUUC5oTsBlg/s1600/odouls.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Man, that digression went on a lot longer than I expected, but we have finally come back to the point. Nine of the ten NL batting championships in the 1920s have been accounted for, all properly meted out to guys with lifetime batting averages of at least .333. <br />
<br />
And then there was 1926, in which the batting race was one of the all-time baseball flukes.<br />
<ul>
<li>The top hitter in the league was <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/h/hargrbu01.shtml">Bubbles Hargrave</a>.
</li>
<li>Second place went to <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/c/chriscu01.shtml">Cuckoo Christensen</a>, who also led in OBP.
</li>
<li>Third place: <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/smithea02.shtml">Earl Smith</a>.
</li>
<li>Fourth place: <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/willicy01.shtml">Cy Williams</a>, who also led in slugging average.</li>
</ul>
Hornsby is nowhere to be found, having had a freakishly bad year (.317 with eleven homers) immediately following the famous period when he averaged better than .400 over five full seasons, including batting championships in all five years and triple crowns in two of them. His poor hitting performance that year is attributed in baseball's conventional wisdom to the pressure of having been hired for the first time as the Cardinals' player/manager for the entire season. That may well be, because for the remainder of his career, the only monster Hornsby-like year he had was 1929 (.380 39-149), which also happened to be the one year when he had no managerial responsibilities. Over the course of his career he wasn't much of a manager, either, and was generally disliked by management and players alike, but he was awesome in that one full season as manager of the Cardinals. He won the pennant, the only one of his career, then defeated the mighty 1926 Yankees in the World Series. (That's the same Murderer's Row Yankees whose contingent in the following year is generally regarded as the greatest team ever assembled.) The story of that World Series is told in a movie called <a href="https://youtu.be/pDY6E4FFXXA?t=1m50s">The Winning Team</a>, in which Frank Lovejoy plays Hornsby and future U.S. President Ronald Reagan plays baseball legend Pete Alexander, the oft-inebriated hero of the series.<br />
<br />
As a reward for beating the best team of all time, the Cardinals traded Hornsby to the Giants, replacing him at manager with a one-year wonder who guided the team down into second place.<br />
<br />
Back to the story.<br />
<br />
If Hornsby didn't win the batting championship, why wasn't it Waner or some other all-time great? The short answer is that Waner would have won under the modern guidelines, but the rules for eligibility were different then. To qualify for any percentage-based leaderboard in today's game, a player must have 3.1 plate appearances for every game his team schedules. Practically stated, he must come to the plate 502 times in a 162-game schedule. In contrast, the National League of the period 1920-1949 required only that a player appear in 100 games. In theory, a defensive replacement with a 1.000 batting average in one at-bat could have won a batting crown. Nothing that weird ever happened, but the 1926 leaderboard was just about the weirdest thing that could have happened in the real world. All four of those league leaders were part-timers by today's standards!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidxfmk1otyGhps3Qz4av9Z6IeJx392bS7Q_sciBNGtZQ_eL-FGdc0O0086g3QGI-V3ZHyztVfIRqoAZ14DSQyBXCRX6RC9IFtTxfbYX-8Z3EE-XTI2RKw9dgkLEBpxSL5QnNcBxhQJzBO6/s1600/bubblescards.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidxfmk1otyGhps3Qz4av9Z6IeJx392bS7Q_sciBNGtZQ_eL-FGdc0O0086g3QGI-V3ZHyztVfIRqoAZ14DSQyBXCRX6RC9IFtTxfbYX-8Z3EE-XTI2RKw9dgkLEBpxSL5QnNcBxhQJzBO6/s1600/bubblescards.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Bubbles "Call Me Gene" Hargrave was the Reds' #1 catcher for about a decade. Born Eugene Franklin Hargrave, he hated the nickname "Bubbles," which he got because he stuttered when saying words starting with "B." He is in <a href="http://cincinnati.reds.mlb.com/cin/hof/hof/directory.jsp?hof_id=115471">the Reds' Hall of Fame</a>, although he never batted as many as 400 times in a season. That was typical for catchers back in the day. Teams usually platooned at least two men at this demanding position. Hargrave actually was a pretty damned good hitter with a lifetime batting average of .310 over a twelve-year career, but he had only 326 at-bats in 1926. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhub-rUj99sVc5vMT9dAJrX2hmM1Cb82caiKsamWJ1BWYPrTdW76JC2i7F8aP0iC1RHeDgsf7Fp2wdoF5wguppCdcgQV_MtaHWzyFkDSzQp0-vixrE6lfQ-mqBlE-iIRYCmlfVYd7KCX_iu/s1600/smithcards.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhub-rUj99sVc5vMT9dAJrX2hmM1Cb82caiKsamWJ1BWYPrTdW76JC2i7F8aP0iC1RHeDgsf7Fp2wdoF5wguppCdcgQV_MtaHWzyFkDSzQp0-vixrE6lfQ-mqBlE-iIRYCmlfVYd7KCX_iu/s1600/smithcards.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Earl Smith was the Pirates' main catcher, with a career very similar to that of Hargrave. He played 12 years, never batted as many as 400 times in a season, but compiled a solid lifetime .303 batting average. He played on five teams that won pennants, of which three went on to win the World Series. He played in all five of those fall classics, coming to the plate 49 times. He was one of the stars of the Pirates' <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/postseason/1925_WS.shtml">1925 World Series victory</a>, playing in six of the seven games and batting .350. He was a fine player, but had a measly 292 at-bats in 1926.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz801VDjYelTlkOYt1tv79Xkl_Gzvm4WdNX3jEBRQyMFSeoZdzTYqI_WC78L4F4QVHJuVCf0rVCva2IG6R8WkheISjLjNlXeIohxbaqvIf3m-1sJ5kSlVxm2MWrIY0u97NfZAHj3AUbV-I/s1600/cycards.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz801VDjYelTlkOYt1tv79Xkl_Gzvm4WdNX3jEBRQyMFSeoZdzTYqI_WC78L4F4QVHJuVCf0rVCva2IG6R8WkheISjLjNlXeIohxbaqvIf3m-1sJ5kSlVxm2MWrIY0u97NfZAHj3AUbV-I/s1600/cycards.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Fred "Cy" Williams, a former football and track star during his undergrad days at Notre Dame, is the only one of the four who was not normally a part-time player. Before he became a successful architect, he was in the majors for 19 years, mostly with the Phillies, as a regular centerfielder with a .292 lifetime batting average and, most impressively, four home run crowns. He was a powerful left-handed dead pull hitter whose high fly balls had usually been long outs in the dead ball era, so his lifetime batting average through 1919 was a lowly .260, and he had hit only 49 homers in eight seasons. Although his skills were just not configured right for small ball, he became a star when the livelier ball was introduced in the 1920s, and his towering wallops started clearing the friendly right field fence in the Baker Bowl. Throughout his career he had the most extreme <a href="http://research.sabr.org/journals/hitting-homers-at-home-a-on-the-road">ratio of home/away blasts</a> among all players in major league history with 250 homers or more. He hit 167 homers at home, only 84 on the road. From 1920 onward, he batted .311 with a .909 OPS and more than 200 homers, and those stats are rendered even more impressive by the knowledge that he was already 32 when that period began. According to <a href="http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/da11d4a5">his SABR bio</a>, he was the National League's all-time home run leader at one point! In 1926, however, he was fighting injuries and had only 336 at-bats.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32q1l1K6psM1kCzYZ8WbtrLLBe0pM_Y7vFlWQagicFg-wvgdIowDBOoEJt155wMux0Zsq6e4v_4YFYzUo9vIq2JRFx_iZ7HxfOh6AgGo_53zRXH8H4Qmo1mhJW9EJe3kYKSWHgxA300FU/s1600/cuckoo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32q1l1K6psM1kCzYZ8WbtrLLBe0pM_Y7vFlWQagicFg-wvgdIowDBOoEJt155wMux0Zsq6e4v_4YFYzUo9vIq2JRFx_iZ7HxfOh6AgGo_53zRXH8H4Qmo1mhJW9EJe3kYKSWHgxA300FU/s1600/cuckoo.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Cuckoo Christensen was a Cincinnati outfielder who really was a part-time player in every sense of the word. He was essentially a one-year wonder, maybe not even that, since he had only 329 at bats in 1926, his first in the major leagues, and was out of the majors less than a year later. He never hit a major league homer, but even without any power, his having batted .350 while leading the league in on-base percentage still represented an impressive level of achievement for a rookie. Because he batted so well that season and so infrequently after it, his lifetime major league batting average never dropped below an impressive .315!<br />
<br />
He got his nickname ... well, to be blunt, because he deserved it. The <a href="http://www.milb.com/milb/history/top100.jsp?idx=91">history of the minor league St Paul Saints</a> recounts, "One of the Saints’ impressive youngsters was 22-year-old, 5’6 ½" center fielder and leadoff batter Walter (Seacap) Christensen. Christensen also was known as 'Cuckoo Christy,' an extrovert whose antics pleased the fans, but sometimes drove managers up the wall. He enjoyed doing somersaults in the outfield, usually when the ball was not in play. Sometimes, however, he would somersault while waiting for a lazy fly ball to come down."<br />
<br />
Cuckoo also tried that stunt in the majors, and lost at least one game in the process, which may go a long way to explain the brevity of his career. In <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Nuggets-Diamond-Professional-Baseball-Present/dp/0942627008">"Nuggets on the Diamond"</a>, Dick Dobbins wrote, "With the Reds leading by one run in the bottom of the ninth and runners on base, Christensen went after a fly ball, did a somersault, then dropped the ball. The Reds lost the game, and an angry (Manager Red) Killefer chased Christensen all the way into the centerfield clubhouse."<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
If we recalibrate the 1926 batting championship based on the modern requirements for eligibility, players would need 477 plate appearances over the 154-game schedule of the day, making Paul Waner the true batting champion at .336, which would have been an extraordinarily cheap title by the standards of those days. Even the official leader, the .353 figure posted by Bubbles Hargrave, was far lower than the second-lowest average to capture a NL batting title in the 1920s, which was Hornsby's .370 in 1920.<br />
<br />Imposing the same eligibility requirement to all percentage-based categories across the board would depose Cuckoo Christensen as OBP leader, again replaced by Waner; and would allow <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/w/wilsoha01.shtml">Hack Wilson</a> to usurp the slugging lead from Cy Williams. Wilson, like Waner, is in the Hall of Fame, so the recalculated championships would make much more sense to modern eyes ...<br />
<br />
... but would be so much more boring than letting Cuckoo Christensen keep his crown.
<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
</div>Greg Wroblewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15414199261562737952noreply@blogger.com0