JUDGING MERKLE – “A TRUE AND JUST DECISION”

The primary responsibility of baseball team owners, or magnates as they were called in the Deadball Era (1901-1919), is the best interests of their team.  At the same time, however, owners share league governance responsibilities which require them to act for the common good.  Seldom have owners faced governance challenges with so much at stake as those brought about by the so-called Merkle game of September 23, 1908. The bottom of the ninth inning of that crucial contest caused what may very well have been the greatest controversy in baseball history. Even allowing for Cubs owner Charles Murphy’s penchant for exaggeration, his claim the magnates were making decisions “for the whole world” was true in a baseball sense.  The three owners who had the final say agreed, proclaiming the case “the most important ever presented to the board of directors of the National League.”  The goal of this post is to use eyewitness accounts to explore how the magnates handled this difficult and controversial situation.

 

Ironically, the same day this cartoon appeared, the magnates were handed a controversy that made life anything but easy – Cincinnati Enquirer – September 24, 1908

The controversy began on a dreary, overcast afternoon at the Polo Grounds where the New York Giants, in a tight, three-way pennant race with Chicago and Pittsburgh, played the Cubs.  The game was tied 1-1 in the bottom of the ninth, with two out and runners on first and the third.  Al Bridwell of the Giants singled to drive in what appeared to be the winning run.  The runner on first was Fred Merkle who, in what some claimed was the customary behavior of the day, did not bother to touch second, but ran immediately towards the Giants’ clubhouse in center field.  Watching closely was Cubs second baseman Johnny Evers. A few weeks earlier, in a similar situation, Evers argued unsuccessfully that if the runner did not touch second, he could be retired for the third out and the potential winning run did not count.  Also watching closely, or so he claimed, was umpire Hank O’Day, also the arbiter in the earlier game.  

What happened next has been the subject of much debate, but there is no question that based on what O’Day told him, Bob Emslie, the other umpire, called Merkle out at second, leaving the game still tied.  O’Day further ruled that with the crowd on the field amidst gathering darkness, it was impossible to continue so the game ended in a tie.  Under league rules, it should have been replayed the next day. However, Charlie Murphy quickly, and foolishly, filed an appeal that forced or enabled league president Harry Pulliam to postpone the replay.  Both teams then appealed to Pulliam, claiming the game should be awarded to them.  Pulliam turned down the appeals and ordered the game replayed.  His decisions led the Giants and Cubs to appeal to the court of last resort, the National League’s board of directors. As a result, five owners – Charles Ebbets, Garry Herrmann, George Dovey, Charles Murphy and Barney Dreyfuss who, along with Pulliam, served on the board were faced with decisions that could decide the closest pennant race in league history.  

There are effectively two sides to the Merkle debate – should the play be judged by the letter or the spirit of baseball law. The game’s rules have long required runners to touch the next base before being forced out.  Why then should Merkle’s situation be any different? The spirit of the rules argument, however, is that the ball could not have been returned in time to make the force play, Merkle followed accepted practice and a technicality should not cost the Giants a game they won fairly.  

Cincinnati Reds owner, Garry Herrmann, a member of the board of directors, aptly summarized the tension between the two positions in a private letter to Pulliam noting that while “custom” and “sportsmanship” were in the Giants favor, it “was a very dangerous proposition to throw a law aside.”  The Reds owner added that while most fans in Cincinnati did not want the Giants to win the pennant, everyone he had spoken with felt the Giants won the game. Needless to say, the press did not hesitate to take sides with Bozeman Bulger of the Evening World insisting that if the Giants were denied the victory, the public would “lose confidence in the honesty of the game.” If sports talk radio existed in 1908, the controversy would have consumed hours of air time.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the story of what happened when the board met to render judgment on the appeals was “improved” in the memories of participants and other interested parties.  Writing in the New York Tribune in 1921, William Macbeth claimed Boston Braves owner George Dovey and Pirates owner Barney Dreyfuss told him the board was “up a tree on the whole proposition.” By a fortuitous chance, Dreyfuss happened to pick up Christy Mathewson’s testimony from a pile of some 35 affidavits.  Looking at it, the Pirates owner face supposedly lit up because the Giants pitcher’s statement provided the solution to their dilemma.  Even though Mathewson had a great deal at stake, he admitted that Merkle never touched second.  This according to Dreyfuss and Dovey made the board’s decision so obvious they tossed the rest of the affidavits in the wastebasket and ruled against the Giants.   As we shall shortly see, this version of events could never have taken place.

 

Except for Stanley Robison of St. Louis and William Shettsline of Philadelphia, all of the magnates in this picture were part of the October 5, 1908 board meeting

Many years later, Johnny Evers, the instigator of the controversy, offered another explanation of how the board made its decision.  Also envisioning a deadlocked meeting, Evers claimed the final decision was not made until Jack Ryder, a Cincinnati Enquirer sportswriter, by then conveniently dead, broke into the room and delivered a “helluva speech.” According to Evers, the magnates gave into Ryder’s argument that the game had to be played over or the National League would be a “laughingstock.”  As with the fable spun by Macbeth, there is no evidence supporting Evers’ story.  Fortunately, these and other legends can be discarded because a written record of the magnates’ deliberations survives.  At the time, the National League employed a stenographer to record not just the minutes of such meetings, but a verbatim transcript that preserves a detailed record of what really happened. 

The issues facing the board were challenging enough, but there was the potential for further difficulties due to the dynamics among the magnates.  The owners of the Deadball Era have been described as a “small circle” where “personal alliances and rivalries developed, fell apart and, on occasion reestablished themselves.”  Within this “circle,” some were more powerful than others, but on this occasion, the less powerful would judge the powerful. The Giants, Pirates and Cubs had dominated the National League since 1901, winning every pennant.  Their on-the-field success generated higher ticket sales which were shared with the visiting team.  Since ballpark admissions were by far the most important source of revenue, less successful clubs were dependent on big pay days in New York and Chicago.  As result the owners of those clubs tended to have a greater voice in league affairs.  Yet this time, it was Ebbets, Herrmann and Dovey, the also-rans, who sat in judgment of their more powerful counterparts John Brush and Charlie Murphy.  The three men may not have influenced by such concerns, but the role reversal likely added more stress to a case that already had more than enough.  

Further complicating the situation were inter-personal relationships that created conflict of interests, real or perceived.  Just one example was the relationship between the Pirates Barney Dreyfuss and Boston’s George Dovey, a friendship that began when the two men played on the same semi-pro baseball team.  Not only did Dreyfuss encourage Dovey to buy the Boston Braves franchise, he “helped find” the financing which raised the question of whether the Pittsburgh owner had a secret ownership “stake” in the Boston club. The day before the board of directors meeting, Herrmann received a telegram warning darkly, that it “is generally supposed the Boston stock is controlled by Pittsburgh” and imploring him and Ebbets to see the Giants received “a square deal.”  Hardly an auspicious beginning to such an important gathering.

The day of judgment came on October 5, 1908 at the Hotel Sinton in Cincinnati.  Part of the reason for waiting until then was to see if on-the-field results might make the September 23 game irrelevant and reduce the pressure on the magnates. Their best hope in that regard was the Chicago - Pittsburgh game the day before the meeting where a Pirates victory would clinch the pennant for Pittsburgh.  Unfortunately for the directors, not to mention the Pirates and their fans, the Cubs won, making the October 5 meeting not only necessary, but crucial.  The meeting took place in Cincinnati at the request of Herrmann who was deeply involved in the 1908 presidential campaign.  Willingly or not the other parties acceded to his request.

 

Cincinnati’s Hotel Sinton

When the board of directors gathered that morning, they learned the primary appellant, Giants owner John T. Brush would not arrive until that afternoon.  They agreed to delay hearing the New York club’s appeal, but used the morning for the first major question they had to decide – who would do the judging.  The primary concern was Dreyfuss and Murphy both of whose clubs had a vested interest in the outcome.  League rules prohibited directors voting on such matters and Pulliam quickly ruled the two could not participate.  Probably to everyone’s relief, the loquacious Murphy immediately agreed with Pulliam’s decision.  Characteristically, however, the Chicago owner insisted he still had the right to vote on the Dreyfuss’ participation since the Pirate owner appealed his disqualification.  Although Murphy lost his right to vote on the appeals, he retained his “seat and voice,” allowing him both to speak on behalf of the Cubs appeal and participate fully in the hearing.  While Murphy’s interjections made the proceedings more difficult, allowing him to be heard made for a fairer process.

Dreyfuss was far less amenable. Even before arriving in Cincinnati, the Pirates owner insisted he was going to vote on the appeals. Now facing those who would decide if he could do so, Dreyfuss claimed he should be allowed to vote because his team was “out of the race” which was not true since a three-way tie was still very much a possibility. Dreyfuss, clearly not interested in winning friends, insisted he was “just as fair as anybody” and “a heap sight fairer” than others he did not name, but who, by implication, were in the room.  Pulliam’s decision was affirmed with only Murphy supporting Dreyfuss.  A day earlier after his team suffered a devastating loss to the Cubs, the Pittsburgh owner had graciously gone to Murphy’s office to congratulate him.  Such gentlemanly behavior did not, however, carry over to the Cincinnati meeting.  

On hearing the vote, Dreyfuss grabbed his coat and stormed out of the room warning his fellow magnates “You will be sorry; I am through with the National League.”  The reason for Dreyfuss’ attitude is not difficult to determine.  The Pirates owner had been feuding for years with both Giants owner Brush and his manager John McGraw.  Before the meeting even began, Dreyfuss opposed delaying the proceedings to accommodate Brush’s travel problems. The Pirates owner later acknowledged he “favored the game being awarded to Chicago."  Sadly, Dreyfuss’ behavior did not rise to the level called for by the occasion.  His departure before the Giants appeal was even discussed also proves he could not have played the role attributed to him in William Macbeth’s 1921 article.

 

Fred Merkle

With Dreyfuss gone and Murphy disenfranchised, there were only three “judges” left, but if Murphy had his way, the number would have been reduced even further.  The Chicago owner claimed both Ebbets and Herrmann should also be excluded because they had made comments to the media.  In Herrmann’s case, the reference was to his supposed statement to the Cincinnati Enquirer that there “was no justice in the claim of the Chicago club.”  Herrmann denied having made the comments, prompting what was probably one of a regular stream of apologies from the blustering, impetuous Murphy.  As far as Ebbets was concerned, the Brooklyn owner said all he had done was endorse Pulliam’s support for the umpires and say he hoped the Giants won the pennant (on the field). Fortunately, the group recognized the absurdity of having Dovey, a relatively new owner, act as a court of one.  By the time the morning session was over, Ebbets was probably relieved his motions to open the hearing portion of the meeting to the press, had twice died for lack of a second.

When the magnates reassembled for the afternoon session, it was time for the main event, the appeal of the New York club.  Present at last, to verbally back up a veritable mountain of previously submitted documents was John T. Brush. The Giant owner has been described as a “dour man” with a “resilient nature and iron will” that he used to exercise “his considerable power over fellow magnates via backroom cajolery and relentless scheming.”  The question was whether he could use that “considerable power” to persuade Ebbets, Herrmann and Dovey of the merits of the Giants appeal.  In this forum, Brush’s behind the scene skills were of less value and he faced an audience unlikely to be intimidated.  Although not always successful, Ebbets had not been reluctant to take on Brush especially when the game’s welfare was at stake. While Dovey was an unknown factor, Herrmann was a skilled politician who after years of dealing with American League President Ban Johnson had plenty of experience working with difficult and demanding people.  

Brush spent over 90 minutes reading into the record some of the 35 affidavits supporting his club’s appeal. While no recording of the Giants owner’s voice survives, descriptions of his “dour” personality suggests the experience was not unlike a 90-minute root canal without an anesthetic.  Brush’s basic argument was Bridwell made a clean hit, the runner was safe at home before the third out was made and the Giants won the game according to the rules.  Brush also placed great importance on the official scorer’s report to the league office that the Giants won which he claimed was official certification of a New York victory.  

Somewhat surprisingly, Brush did not emphasize the statements of multiple witnesses that contrary to the umpires’ claims, the two men did not confer on the field.  Those statements were complemented by some sportswriters’ affidavits that suggested confusion as to how the umpires made or explained their decision.  Taken together, Brush might have used these statements to argue the umpires left the field without calling Merkle out and the game a tie.  To then do so afterwards, unfairly deprived the Giants of a victory they won legitimately on the field.  Instead, by arguing the Giants won the game according to the rules, Brush seemed to hope/think he could prevail through his own version of the letter of the law position.  

 

Johnny Evers

Once Brush was finished, Charlie Murphy spoke on behalf of the Cubs appeal that since the Giants failed to replay the game the next day, the contest should be forfeited to Chicago.  Murphy began by saying “I will be very brief” and, at least on this occasion, no doubt to everyone’s relief, he was a man of his word.  When Murphy completed his statement, Ebbets, who was chairing the meeting asked Pulliam to summarize how he handled the appeals and why he did not require the game be made up the following day.  Murphy objected to Pulliam’s speaking and Ebbets rebuffed him, saying “this is an extraordinary occasion, and I think it is only right to have Mr. Pulliam explain his position.”  This is just one example of how the three magnates allowed all the interested parties to be heard and tried to get everything on the record.  With that the embattled league president was able to have his say which did not add any new information.

Next up were umpires Bob Emslie and Hank O’Day with both Brush and Murphy remaining and poised to further their cases by asking questions of the two arbiters.  Both umpires stuck to their original statements that although Emslie was closest to the play, he did not see what happened, but O’Day did.  Emslie said that based on what O’Day told him, he called Merkle out at second, ending the inning without any scoring.   As Cait Murphy noted in Crazy O8, the consistency of their stories suggests prior collaboration. Despite the repeated efforts of Brush, both umpires held firm on their position.  The Giants president even objected to Emslie’s presence, asking why he was here, if the board had his statement.  Ebbets responded that the umpire was there for the same reason Brush was - to allow him to present his statement in person. It was a put down to which Brush had no response.  Sensitive to the claims the two umpires did not meet on the field, both Ebbets and Dovey had Emslie confirm on the record that they did.  With the grilling of the umpires complete, the hearing part of the board meeting came to an end.

After a long grueling day, the board, or what was left of them, reconvened in executive session at 8:00 that evening.  Since Pulliam had properly recused himself from deliberations on appeals of his decisions, only Ebbets, Herrmann and Dovey plus the stenographer were present.  One newspaper account claimed the meeting lasted until midnight while another said it took 90 minutes, but based on the record, the session required far less time. The entire meeting transcript covers 95 pages, only nine of were needed to record the executive session.  First on the agenda was the Chicago appeal which Herrmann suggested they “get … out of the way,” doubtless because of the relative simplicity.  Ebbets and Dovey voted to turn down the appeal without comment before Herrmann, in making it unanimous, put the basis for the decision on the record.  As expected, Murphy’s first appeal aborted the possibility of playing the game the next day so turning down the second Chicago appeal was easy.

 

Umpire Hank O’Day

Turning to the Giants appeal, Ebbets, still in the chair, asked “Is your mind sufficiently clear on that, or shall we go into deliberation” before voting.  Herrmann and Dovey were ready to vote and in complete agreement that Merkle had been forced out, the run did not count and the game was a tie.  No credence was given to Brush’s argument about the official scorer. Ebbets noted that the umpire is “the master of the field, he is the arbiter and he is the judge of the facts.”  With that the day’s proceedings ended with a unanimous decision to uphold Pulliam’s decision and turn down the Giants appeal.  It’s certainly possible, if not likely, there was prior discussion before the executive session, but even so, Evers and Macbeth’s stories of confusion and debate were clearly inaccurate.

Most likely once they adjourned the formal session, the three men worked on the written announcement which was released the next day.  While their statement properly lays out the issues and the basis for their decision, the degree of abuse heaped on Merkle for his “reckless, careless, inexcusable blunder” is unfortunate. Especially since just as much responsibility could have been placed at the door of John McGraw and his veteran players.  They were, after all, aware, or should have been, of the dispute in Pittsburgh a few weeks earlier and could easily have warned a young player in one of his first big games.  When Merkle reached first, all David Brain, coaching at first base, had to do was remind him to touch second if Bridwell got a hit.

 

The vilification of Fred Merkle begins – Cincinnati Enquirer – October 7, 1908

The statement addressed the spirit of the rules argument by noting that the failure of other teams to take advantage of a runner not touching second, did not mean the Cubs had lost their right to do so.  In addition, the directors dismissed Brush’s mountain of affidavits, arguing that to set aside an umpire’s decision based on spectators’ statements would be a “bad and dangerous precedent.”  As might be expected, the board’s decisions displeased both sides.  Cubs manager Frank Chance blasted Ebbets as “not qualified” and “prejudiced.” Murphy must have had strong words with Herrmann because the Chicago owner apologized in writing a few days later.  The Giants were even more upset with Brush claiming the board “seemed determined to rob us of the game from the very start.” The Giants never forgot, much less forgave, and their lingering animosity was a contributing factor to Pulliam’s 1909 suicide.

It certainly can be argued the magnates’ decisions were predetermined since they could not overrule their umpires without setting a dangerous precedent and damaging the league’s, credibility.  There was, however, the question of whether the umpires had, in fact, made those decisions on the field.  Failure to do so and then act off the field would be questionable at best.  An unsigned column in the New York Tribune, asked, not entirely rhetorically, why, if the umpires failed to do their job properly, the Giants “should be robbed of a game won on the merits of the play.”  It’s also not as if the Giants position lacked support beyond the less than objective local media.  Pat Powers, president of the Eastern League, in a letter to Brush, claimed there was an unwritten baseball rule that once the winning run scored, no attention was paid to the other runners and, therefore, the Giants won the game. Not surprisingly, the letter quickly found its way into a New York City newspaper.   

Not in the public eye, but potentially more damaging was a letter from Ban Johnson to Brush informing the Giants president that if he did not get justice from his peers, the American League would “gladly make room for you.”   Given Brush’s reputation for “backroom cajolery,” it is almost certain he communicated the offer/threat to the board.  Facing pressure from multiple directions and knowing both sides would be unhappy with their decisions, Dovey, Ebbets and Herrmann deserve credit for the integrity of their process and their decisive action.  Most likely they realized the only responsible resolution was to have the disputed game decided on the field rather than in a smoke-filled room in Cincinnati.  In doing so, they properly shifted the limelight, not to mention the burden, from themselves to the contending teams where it belonged. Charles Ebbets said the board’s goal was to conduct “a very complete and full investigation,” using “every means possible to arrive at a true and just decision.”  The evidence suggests they did just that.