It isn't a surprise that no one chose the second game of the 1929 World Series as their greatest day in baseball. Unlike the other four games, there was little drama or excitement nor were there any human-interest stories like that of Howard Ehmke. Building on their victory in the first contest, the Athletics got off to a 6-0 start, survived one Cubs rally and won comfortably 9-3. Afterwards, both teams boarded the train for the long ride to Philadelphia. While the teams were enroute, some Athletic fans began a long vigil outside the Shibe Park ticket office. It was, after all, the Athletics’ first World Series in fifteen years and the club’s faithful fans had waited long enough.
Although it hadn’t been quite that long, National League fans had endured their own lack of World Series success. Not only had the American League won the last two Fall Classics, but the National League failed to win so much as a single game. Now that the Athletics had won the first two games of the 1929 series, the losing streak had reached 10. Fortunately, for the Cubs and the entire league, there was probably no one better suited to end the National League’s losing streak than Guy Bush, who understandably chose it as his Greatest Day in Baseball.
But even those shut out at the ticket window still had options - Philadelphia Inquirer - October 12, 1929
Bush, who according to Chicago Daily News sportswriter, Hal Totten, pitched only one way - “bearing down,” was a key contributor to the Cubs pennant winning season. The Mississippi native won 18 games against only 7 losses with a 3.60 ERA while leading the National League with 50 appearances, 30 as a starter. For much of the 1929 season, Bush had been the “hottest pitcher in baseball” before cooling off in August, probably due to overwork. By the third game of the series, however, he was well rested and ready to fight for the honor, not just of his team, but for the entire National League.
Guy Bush
Put down this date . . . October 11, 1929! From October 10, 1926, when Jess Haines won the seventh game of the Card-Yank series until October 4, 1930, when “Wild Bill” Hallahan beat the A’s in the third game of the Cards-A’s series, only one National League pitcher won a World Series game. That was me.
I beat the Mackmen 3-1 in the third game of that ’29 series with the Cubs . . . and if I’d gotten licked instead, the man responsible would have been Jimmy Dykes, now manager of the White Sox. He tried to spoil my biggest day in baseball, but I fooled him . . . so I’ve got something to remember as long as I live.
We had a pretty good Cubs team that year. It was loaded with power . . . guys like Hack Wilson, Rogers Hornsby, Riggs Stephenson and Kiki Cuyler in the lineup. The “Big Three” among the pitchers included Pat Malone, who won 22 and lost 10, Charley Root with 19-6, and myself with 18-7. But we were up against a great Philly outfit too . . . with Mike Cochrane and Al Simmons and Jimmy Foxx and Dykes and George Earnshaw and “Lefty” Grove and “Rube” Walberg, on Connie Mack’s roster.
The first two games were played in Wrigley Field and we lost ‘em both. Root and Malone got beat. That was the year Howard Ehmke made us look silly in the opener by striking out 13. I rather thought I’d work one of the Chicago games but it wasn’t until we were riding to Philly that Manager Joe McCarthy said to me: “You pitch the third game, Guy.” I nodded my head and then asked “Why didn’t you start me at home, Joe?”
He gave me a quick look and said: “You’re a pretty good pitcher . . . I figured you to open at Philly. Besides, I thought sure we’d win at least one of those two back there.”
We had the usual team meeting before that game in Shibe Park, but as the boys started to the field, McCarthy motioned for me to stay behind. When we were alone he said: “Guy, the National League hasn’t won a series game in three years. The Pirates lost four straight in ’27 and so did the Cardinals in ’28. We've dropped two more. That’s ten lickings in a row. Now listen for Pete’s sake, win! Do you think you can?”
I told him: “Yes” and he finished. “Well, go ahead and pitch to them the way you want to.”
Earnshaw was their pitcher and before the second inning was over we were both in trouble. Wilson tripled with nobody out, but we didn’t score because Joe Boley held "Hack" at third while he threw out Cuyler. Max Bishop nailed Wilson at the plate on Stephenson’s grounder and Charley Grimm fanned. Then in the last half of that frame I got my biggest kick of a lifetime.
There were two out when Dykes singled in front of “Stevie,” [Riggs Stephenson] and when Boley singled to center Dykes slid into third under Cuyler’s throw. That brought up Earnshaw. As I worked on him I could see Dykes getting further and further off third with each pitch. That meant he’d probably like to steal home with the theory that Earnshaw wouldn’t hit anyway. The count was 2-2 when it happened.
I had the next ball almost started when Dykes really streaked for the plate. I realized in a flash I couldn’t get him . . . he’d had too big a lead. So thought flashed through my mind: “Make it good . . . make it a strike!” I did . . . and as I let go I started to the plate myself on the dead run. Dykes went across in a cloud of dust and I saw Umpire Charley Moran call him safe.
“No, no, no,” I hollered. “Charlie . . . where was the ball?” By this time McCarthy and Hornsby had rushed up too, and McCarthy got in front of Moran and shouted: “Charlie . . . where was the pitch . . . what was it?” Moran looked at him . . . and suddenly realized the throw had been a strike. So he called it that . . . and Dykes was out, even though he’d beaten the play.
I hadn’t tried to nail him . . . I just fanned Earnshaw for the third out.
That saved us a run, or maybe more, because Boley had gone to second and the A’s would have had their leadoff man up. Three innings later they did score as Cochrane singled, went to second on an infield out and came home on “Bing” Miller’s hit. But we were only one run behind and in the sixth we got in front and Ol’ Man Bush just scored the tying run too.
Earnshaw walked me. Then Dykes fumbled English’s grounder with one out and Hornsby singled me home. Wilson grounded out, but both English and Hornsby advanced and Cuyler scored ‘em both on a 3-2 single.
Believe me, I felt like a million dollars going out to pitch the seventh but I must have got all excited about winning because Bishop hit to right and then I wild-pitched to “Mule” Haas and there was a runner on second. With Haas gone down, Cochrane walked and there I was facing Simmons and Foxx in the clutch. I never even looked at McCarthy: I was afraid he might think I was beginning to fade or something which I wasn’t.
I’d been cutting corners all day with a sidearm fast ball and I decided to pour it over the outside corner to Simmons and Foxx and make ‘em poke at the ball. You remember I had a funny little move toward second and now and then I’d fire down to Hornsby to keep Bishop from going to third where he could score on an error. Well, I finally got Simmons on a fly to Wilson and then Foxx hit in front of the plate. Zach Taylor threw him out and we were safe.
McCarthy was waiting for me after the game and he put an arm around me and said: You did what you said you’d do, Guy . . . and we’re all happy.”
I went back to my room at the hotel and was resting on the bed when there was a knock on the door. A bellhop stood there with a stack of telegrams for me. There were 191 wires and I threw ‘em on the bed and relaxed while opening them. Ten were from overseas . . . mostly from Italy . . . congratulating me and there were two from my home town . . . Tupelo, Miss, . . . wanting me to run for mayor.
But I wouldn’t have traded places with the president of the United States just then. I’d done something no pitcher had been able to do in 10 World Series games . . . beat the American League.
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