Back in Uniform

Earlier this year, when the Neshanock's schedule was being finalized, Russ McIver, Captain of the Monmouth Furnace Club, asked if Flemington would like to open the season at Allaire State Park on April 6.  Any hesitation on our part had nothing to do with the opponent or the venue.  The Monmouth Furnace Club strives for historical accuracy and always plays the game in a gentlemanly fashion.  And Allaire is not just a good baseball venue, but also a very nice state park.  The concern was early April New Jersey weather which has canceled more games than I care to remember. However, we decided to give it a try which didn't look like the best decision when Wednesday's Nor'easter was followed by Friday's earthquake. Fortunately, conditions improved enough for us to get on the field for an enjoyable and productive start to the 2024 season.  Especially rewarding was the good attendance - 13 players plus family, and friends, including at least one of the canine variety.

Unless otherwise noted all photos by Mark Granieri

Monmouth Furnace won the coin toss and sent the Neshanock to the striker's line.  Hits by Thomas "Hawk" Prioli and Dan "Sledge" Hammer led the way to Flemington's first three tallies of 2024.  After Monmouth Furnace got one back in the bottom of the inning, the Neshanock put together the first big inning of the season.  The bottom of the order got things started and the rest of the Flemington strikers did their part.  By the time the inning was over, the Neshanock had tallied eight times on ten hits.  In addition to the offensive production, Flemington played strong defense especially for so early in the season.  Monmouth Furnace also played good defense and rallied for five runs in the last few innings.  However, the Neshanock's early lead was too much to overcome and Flemington earned a 17-7 victory.

First pitch of the 2024 Season

The Flemington attack was led by "Hawk," "Sledge," Dave "Illinois" Harris, Matt "Fly" Nunn and Ken "Tumbles" Mandel, each of whom had four hits.  Ironically they all lost a clear score, not by making an out at the plate, but because they were retired on the bases.  Paul "O'Neill" Cincotta had three hits while Jeff "Duke" Schneider and Scott "Snuffy" Hengst had two each.  "Snuffy" also had a solid defensive game, recording eight putouts, five in left field and three at catcher.  The most noteworthy defensive play occurred in the seventh inning when a Monmouth Furnace striker tried to stretch a double into a triple.  "Hawk" unleashed a strong, but high throw that "Tumbles" somehow plucked from mid-air and tagged the unsuspecting baserunner.  Bob "Riverboat" Smith pitched the first few innings before leaving due to what may be the most unusual excuse in vintage baseball history - he had to call Bingo for a group of Nuns! 

The Neshanock were very pleased to welcome back Paul Sallee, one of our alumni, pictured with Chris "Lowball" Lowry.  "Lowball" is wearing Carhartt pants, a new look that we are experimenting with.  The pants were well received.

Saturday was the first time in 2024 that the Neshanock donned their replica nineteenth-century baseball uniforms. It's not hard to join a vintage team, so wearing a uniform isn't difficult and can be taken for granted.  That, however, will never happen to me.  That may seem strange for someone who doesn't play, but it dates back to my early experiences in organized baseball.  Today there are countless opportunities to wear a baseball uniform at an early age. I've lost track of how many teams, Henry, my eight-year-old grandson has been on.  It wasn't like that in the 1950s.  Organized baseball didn't begin until the third grade and, with one notable exception, prospective players had to try out and earn a place on the team.  Unfortunately, there were always far more players than spots so there were very limited opportunities for average players to wear a uniform.

While the Neshanock were offering their first huzzahs of the season, Bob "Riverboat" Smith was at his second event of the day - calling bingo for a group of Nuns.

Photo courtesy of Bob Smith

Wearing the same (hopefully) shirt, pants and hat as others doesn't, of course, have any special meaning by itself.  The importance lies in what it symbolizes - being part of a team or community.  Doing so means working with others towards common goals, winning, playing well and having fun.  In vintage baseball, it also means teaching baseball history by recreating as accurately as possible how the game was played in the nineteenth century.  No matter how many seasons we've done this, it's still a very enjoyable experience.  Putting on the uniform for the first time each year is the beginning of the journey.  And it's why wearing one, should never be taken for granted.

An Opening Day LIke No Other

While the World Series is the high point of every baseball season, not even a seventh and deciding contest is the most anticipated game of the year.  That honor belongs to Opening Day – a time of hope for all teams and their fans, no matter how woeful the past or bleak the future.  But the celebration of the new season is usually more important than what happens in the game itself.  It is, after all, just the first of 162 contests and the result typically has little, if any, impact on the season's outcome.  In addition, the players are far from midseason form which, especially when combined with less-than-ideal playing conditions, makes memorable performances unlikely.  But what if the season opener is one of the greatest games imaginable, bordering on historic?  It’s an opening day like no other and such was the case when the Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants began the 1909 season.  

The Polo Grounds from Coogan's Bluff as it looked in 1909

Few teams and their fans had more reason to want to turn the page to a new season than the Giants and the Dodgers.  Brooklyn was coming off a poor season that saw the team win only 53 games, avoiding last place only because the St. Louis Cardinals somehow won even fewer. Understandably, Brooklyn had a new manager, and a player-manager at that, Harry Lumley, the club’s right fielder. No matter how bad the off-season was in Brooklyn, however, it couldn’t compare to the Giants’ winter of discontent.  Their last game at the Polo Grounds was the replay of the controversial Merkle Game, a devastating loss that cost the Giants the National League pennant.  The new season was a chance for the players and fans to put the bitter memories of the 1908 season behind them.  

Just a portion of the large crowd - New York Tribune - April 16, 1909

As badly as everyone wanted to begin the 1909 campaign, however, they had to wait another day when rain wiped out the scheduled April 14th opener. The following day began with drizzle, but by noon the sun was out, feebly attempting to offset temperatures more like those encountered on “Greenland’s icy mountains.”  Cold weather did not, however, deter the Giants faithful or their Brooklyn counterparts.  Fortunately, the Giants ownership had added center field bleachers that “completely encircled” the playing field so there was plenty of room.  Attendance inside the park was estimated at 30,000 with others watching from “Coogan’s bluff, the Viaduct, and even the “L” [subway] structure.”   

Batting Practice - note the absence of a cage - New York Tribune - April 16, 1909

Those who had arrived when the gates opened at noon had a long wait for the 4:00 first pitch. Finally, the Giant players appeared “in their brand-new uniforms” which was "the signal for the letting loose of a six months pent-up enthusiasm.”   Manager John McGraw was not on the field, supposedly because of “a badly inflamed hand.”   A source, however, suggested McGraw’s absence was in protest of owner John Brush's refusal to meet second baseman Larry Doyle's salary demands.   Doyle did not play in the opener and his place was taken by promising rookie Art Fletcher.  Also not in the starting lineup, was the aforementioned Fred Merkle who was greeted warmly by the fans offering some understanding, if not forgiveness for 1908.  

Even without Doyle, the Giants had a far stronger lineup than Brooklyn. Befitting a team that won only 53 games, the 1908 Dodgers’ batting average was an anemic .182.  The only bright spot was Tim “Big City” Jordan who led the National League with 12 home runs, offset by a league-leading 70 strikeouts. One interesting newcomer in the Brooklyn lineup was center fielder Jimmy Sebring .  Labeled a “can’t miss” prospect when he broke in with the Pirates in 1903, Sebring hit the first home run in World Series history while batting .367 in the initial Fall Classic.  Despite a reputation for “a strong and accurate throwing arm, speed and a natural hitting ability from the left side,” he had never lived up to his potential.  As disappointing as Sebring’s career had been, however, he still had a few throws left in his arm. 

First pitch - Brooklyn Daily Eagle - April 16, 1909

Opening Day often offers a matchup between the two teams’ best pitchers and fans were probably looking forward to watching Giants ace Christy Mathewson go against Brooklyn’s top pitcher, Napoleon Rucker. Rucker, however, didn’t like pitching in cold weather so Irwin "Kaiser" Wilhelm took his place.  Whether Mathewson would have pitched in the cold became academic when the future Hall of Fame pitcher was injured during pre-game practice.  Instead, when the Giants took the field, Wilton "Red" Ames, headed to the mound. Although Ames won only seven games in 1908, they all came during the stretch run of the incredibly intense pennant race.  Wilhelm, who predictably attracted the nickname, “Kaiser,” which he supposedly hated, won 16 games in 1908 with a 1.87 ERA.   Unfortunately, he also lost 22, the third time he lost more than 20 games, thanks to a career spent pitching for bad teams.  

After what must have seemed like an eternity of waiting, it was finally time for Tammany Hall boss Richard Croker to throw out the ceremonial first pitch.  Perhaps, not believing the season was actually going to begin, there was “a dead silence over the ballpark.”  But when umpire James Johnstone “shouted “play ball!” A roar went up from the assembled crowd” and “the game [and the season] was on.”    While the big crowd was ecstatic to watch baseball again, no one could have anticipated what they would witness over the next two hours.  The Giants faithful quickly had another reason to exercise their vocal cords when Ames struck out Al Burch, Brooklyn’s leadoff hitter, prompting “a mighty roar” from the home team's fans.   The strikeout set the tone for the inning as both Ames and Wilhelm set the side down in order.

Alton "Red" Ames

Ames also retired the Dodgers in order in the top of the second, but in the bottom of the inning, the first of Wilhelm’s several lapses of control gave the Giants a scoring opportunity. Two, one-out walks, followed by a force play, put runners on first and third with two out.  The stage was set for a delayed double steal, a popular strategy in the Deadball Era. Al Bridwell, the runner on first, was supposed to get caught in a rundown, allowing the runner on third to score before Bridwell was tagged out.  Brooklyn, however, was ready.  When Bridwell broke for second, Dodger shortstop John Hummel blocked catcher Bill Bergen's low throw and bluffed a throw home, freezing the runner at third.  Hummel then tagged out Bridwell “who had stopped in his tracks,” ending the threat without a run.   The estimated 5000 Brooklyn fans doubtless roared their approval of their team thwarting the lordly Giants’ attempt at inside baseball. 

Through the top of the fifth, Brooklyn managed just two baserunners, one on a walk and another because of a New York error.  Neither went any further thanks to the Giants’ defense which wiped out the first by a double play and caught the other trying to steal second.  The Brooklyn fielders were also supporting their pitcher, especially Burch who made a “beautiful running catch” of a ball off Fred Tenney's bat that the Brooklyn Daily Eagle thought was “ticketed for a three-timer [triple].”  Wilhelm walked another batter in the sixth, but Brooklyn ended the threat with a caught stealing of their own.  

Irwin "Kaiser" Wilhelm

Despite Wilhelm’s occasional wildness, no Giant had hit safely, but nor had any of the Dodgers.  Surviving pictures of the Polo Grounds scoreboard suggest it didn’t display hits, so it’s likely only those keeping score knew both pitchers had no-hitters through six innings. But the rest of the large throng surely knew they were witnessing dominant pitching supported by solid defense.  Equally rapt attention was being paid by large crowds following the game on bulletin boards outside the offices of the Eagle and the Brooklyn Daily Times. There were so many people at the latter paper that additional police had to be summoned to control the crowd. 

Ames continued the almost perfect pitching in the top of the seventh, setting down the side in order with two strikeouts.  As the Giants came to bat in the bottom of the inning, the fans celebrating both the season's first seventh-inning stretch and the quality of play, “arose, stretched and rooted as of yore.”  No matter how enthusiastic the rooting, however, it was in vain.  Matching Ames almost batter for batter, Wilhelm delivered a 1-2-3 inning of his own.  Brooklyn was again helpless against Ames in the top of the eighth and the Giants came to bat with a golden opportunity. If they could push a run across the plate, they would set the stage for a historic opening day no-hitter and victory that would begin the redemption of 1908. 

Jimmy Sebring

With one out, Wilhelm, again living dangerously, walked Art Devlin and Bridwell, putting that desperately desired go-ahead run in scoring position.  Next up was catcher George Schlie who delivered the first hit of the day, a “clean, solid drive that went with lightning speed to center.”   Devlin “had a big lead off second” and was immediately “on his toes, digging for home.”   Unfortunately for Devlin and the Giants, however, Brooklyn center fielder, Jimmy Sebring, at least for this moment, showed why he had been such a highly-rated prospect.  After fielding the ball “with startling brevity,” Sebring, “fired it home with disconcerting accuracy.”   The throw was “like a pea”, as “swift as a bullet and as straight as an arrow,” and “never more than six feet from the ground.”  Behind the plate, Bergen "gauged the throw to a nicety" and Devlin was out by six feet. 

One paper called the throw “probably the most remarkable" in baseball history, "for speed and accuracy” while another said it “was voted the greatest throw seen on the Polo Grounds.”   The highest praise came from the fans who gave “the greatest applause of the day.” Even Giant rooters felt obligated to recognize Sebring’s great play even though it cost their team the potential winning run. The throw is even more noteworthy considering it was made with a ball that had been used and abused throughout the contest, perhaps since the first pitch.  The game was becoming one of those rare occasions where appreciation for the quality of play, almost matches the desire for one’s team to win.  Reprieved by his defense, Wilhelm got the next batter, and the threat was over.  Sadly, for Sebring, it was his last big moment in baseball and perhaps life. He was released by Brooklyn in mid-June and died a few days before Christmas from kidney disease. 

The crowd following the game on the bulletin board outside the Eagle's Offices - Brooklyn Daily Eagle, April 16, 1909

After Sebring’s game-saving throw, it was only fitting both teams went out in order in the ninth. Thus far, the crowd had witnessed a rare display of pitching and defense.  As thrilling as such games are to watch, however, fans like to see at least some hitting and offense. Making this day even more special was how an historic pitcher’s duel, “suddenly became wildly exciting” when the offenses finally got going in extra innings.   With one out in the top of the tenth, Whitey Alpermann, doubled for Brooklyn’s first hit, reaching second “on a daring slide.”  Incredibly, it was the first ball hit by the Dodgers to the outfield on a day the Giants outfielders didn’t record a single putout.  With power hitting Tim Jordan up, the Giant fans were understandably “anxious,” but Ames was up to the challenge “and the fans breathed easier for a moment.”  In the bottom of the inning, Wilhelm walked two Giants, but again escaped unscathed, making Brooklyn fans wonder how much longer he, and they could live a charmed life.

The Dodgers put a runner in scoring position in the top of the eleventh but were again denied by the Giants' defense, thanks to a fine play by Art Fletcher.  Few, if any, rookies playing in their first major league game have had a more memorable experience. Not to be outdone, New York put the winning run on base in the bottom of the inning, but didn’t score, thanks to another defensive gem from Sebring who made a “pretty running catch close to the ground.”   By this point, the fans must have wondered how long both teams, especially the pitchers could keep this up.  But after Ames worked around another Alpermann double in the top of the twelfth, Wilhelm, “grim and forbidding” set the Giants down in order and the game headed to the thirteenth.  

Harry Lumley

It was a little after 6:00, “darkness was swooping down on Coogan’s Hollow, a harbinger of the end and it behooved either side to get busy.”   Without lights or daylight-saving time, this was likely the last inning.  With one out and Lumley at the plate, Ames threw “one of his great drops and Lumley leaned on it with all his weight.”  Had it not been for the new bleachers, the shot might have been a home run, but it hit the center field fence and bounced back at least thirty feet.  It took a “great relay” by Bill O’Hara, Fletcher and Bridwell to hold Lumley at third.   The blow produced a roar that “started in the bleachers, rose through the grandstand,” up to the top of Coogan bluff and “came billowing back to the diamond,” - a “cry of surprise, joy and disgust.”  The joy or disgust depended, of course, on one’s rooting interest.  

With the dangerous Jordan at the plate, Giants captain Fred Tenney and Ames decided to walk him and hope newcomer Ed Lennox would hit into a double play.  Not pleased, Brooklyn fans called the Giants “Quitter[s]”, “Yellow Dog[s]” and other names that couldn’t be printed.   If the Brooklyn fans were angered by the move, Lennox was more so and he was in a position to do something about it.  On a 2-1 pitch, he “delivered a stinging single” to left driving in Lumley with the game’s first run.   Bergen wasted no time singling to right and when "Red" Murray's quick throw” home got away from catcher Schlei, Jordan also scored.  Nor was Brooklyn finished.  After Wilhelm fouled out, Burch bunted down the third baseline.  Devlin let it roll, but it stayed fair, and Lennox scored. After 12 innings of offensive futility, Brooklyn had broken through with three runs.

Needless to say, the Giants weren’t going to go quietly.  Bridwell hit one behind third base, but was denied by Burch’s “beautiful running catch.”   Having tested the Dodgers’ left fielder’s ability to come in on the ball, Schlie, the next Giant batter “sent one to the bleachers in left field” which Burch also tracked down.  Just as Brooklyn fans got ready to celebrate the great victory, however, rookie John Meyers pinch hit for Ames and singled, the Native American’s first hit of his career.  Incredibly in 12 2/3’s innings, it was only New York’s third hit. Herzog followed with an infield hit, bringing the tying run to the plate.  Acting Giants manager, Wilbert Robinson sent "Moose" McCormick up to pinch hit and he worked the count to 3-2.  With the Giant fans begging and praying for a home run, Wilhelm induced McCormick to ground back to him to end a game no one present would ever forget.

The editorial page of the Eagle celebrates the great victory - Brooklyn Daily Eagle - April 16, 1909

Having witnessed, “the greatest opening contest ever played,” it was only natural that fans of both teams would jump to conclusions about their teams’ prospects.   For Brooklyn fans, the hard-earned triumph over their hated rivals was a rebirth of hope.  Surely under the leadership of new manager Lumley, they would, at the very least, surpass last year’s miserable performance.  Sadly, however, the improvement was barely discernable – 55 wins, two more than the prior year and Lumley was fired when the season ended.  

Brooklyn Daily Eagle - April 16, 1909

The one good thing for Giants’ fans was the game didn’t lead to any such false hopes.  The New York faithful had hoped the 1909 opener would wipe out some of the bitter taste from the Giants' last game at the Polo Grounds – the devastating loss of the Merkle replay game.  Instead, their team suffered another frustrating defeat despite their pitcher no hitting the opposition for nine innings.  Any fan who thought the result was a bad omen for the season was wise beyond their sight.  Even though the Giants won 92 games, they finished a distant third, 19 games back of the Pirates.  While the loss must have been the most heartbreaking of Ames’ career, it was only the first of three consecutive tough opening-day defeats.  In 1910 and 1911, Ames also lost the Giants opener despite pitching at least six innings of no-hit ball on each occasion. 

As time passed though, those fortunate enough to have been part of the 1909 opener, fans, players and sportswriters alike, probably came to appreciate the game in its own right.  After all, they couldn't have come any closer to playing in or witnessing a double no-hitter.  And if that wasn't enough, there was the added drama of four extra innings with both clubs having chances to win.  Surely, over the years, as they shared baseball memories with family and friends, perhaps over a cold beer, that special day at the Polo Grounds was “in their flowing cups freshly remembered.” 

Exaggerating With Effect

While the Deadball Era doesn’t lack controversial topics, one issue is beyond debate – major league baseball was the country's most popular sport.  But as we have seen in the last few posts, it was also a sport many people only experienced indirectly.  As a result, the primary way many fans followed their favorite team was through the local newspapers.  Fortunately, big cities didn’t lack daily newspapers and New York City was particularly rich in that regard.  In Manhattan alone, there were plenty of options with at least twelve daily newspapers following the Giants and Yankees. Across the East River, the best-known paper in Brooklyn was the Daily Eagle, but the Standard Union, Brooklyn Citizen and Brooklyn Daily Times also offered regular coverage of the Dodgers.  

Damon Runyon 

The large number of newspaper options created some interesting dynamics. Sixteen or so potential sources of baseball coverage offered fans a wide range of choices which, in turn, put pressure on the reporters. Obviously, they had to write well, but a distinct “voice” or an approach different from the norm was an added attraction.  One writer, Damon Runyon, had no problem finding his own, unique style.  Whether compared to 15 or 150 other writers, Runyon, who began covering New York baseball in 1911, consistently stood out.  Examples of his style are legion, but Runyon’s account of a September 7, 1916, Dodger-Giants game is especially valuable because it illustrates the keen powers of observation that undergirded his very different approach.  A combination that led to greatness in other areas of journalism and writing

George "Napoleon" Rucker

 

The game between the second-place Dodgers and a Giants team seemingly playing out the string was a pitching matchup between two lefthanders, Ferdinand Schupp of the Giants and Nap Rucker for Brooklyn.  Neither had been a regular starter in 1916.  Schupp had yet to prove he could pitch in the major leagues while it was questionable if Rucker, after a long career, could still do so.  The details of the game are fairly straightforward. Brooklyn’s Zach Wheat hit a second-inning home run, giving Rucker a 1-0 lead, which he held until the bottom of the sixth.  Two walks and an error by Brooklyn shortstop Ivy Olson set the stage for a Walt Holke single that drove in two runs.  The Giants scored twice more in the inning on the way to a 4-1 win as Schupp limited the Dodgers to just two hits.

Ferdinand Schupp in action at the Polo Grounds before a less than capacity crowd

How did the denizens of the press box describe the game to their readers?  In addition to giving the details of the scoring, they commented on the pitchers' performance since both had exceeded expectations.  Schupp was given due praise, but more attention was paid to Rucker.  Walter Trumbull of the World called the Brooklyn lefthander “the wily old veteran,” while Fred Lieb of The Sun described him  as “grizzled.”  Lieb noted that even with a “two-month rest between starts,” Rucker was limited to “his slow ball, his slower ball and his slowest ball.”   The limited repertoire made Rucker's pitching even more impressive, especially since all four Giant runs were unearned.  Other writers agreed with Trumbull who claimed the Dodger lefthander “has a lot of life left in him yet.”   Tom Rice of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle went so far as to predict Rucker could/would pitch more frequently in the closing weeks of the pennant race. 

Fred Lieb about 1911

In spite of this seeming consensus that Rucker was still capable, Damon Runyon would have none of it.  Swimming against the tide, the New York American writer used his opening paragraphs to argue that Rucker was not just past his prime, but more than past retirement age.

Brooklyn’s most historic ruin, old Napoleon Rucker was taken from the archives of the borough yesterday afternoon, unwrapped, dusted off and brought with tender care to the Polo Grounds where he was set to pitch his biennial game of baseball.

The removal of Napoleon from Brooklyn was attended by all the usual ceremony.  The Flatbush Society for the Preservation of the N. Rucker Soupbone , and all the borough officials were present.  Charles H. Ebbets, the Squeer (sic) of Crow Hill made a short address.

There was the customary reading of the affidavits by George Washington, Aaron Burr, Pop Anson and John Hummel which are on file with Nap, authenticating the claim that Rucker had a fastball early in the seventeenth century, and then the old boy was carried across the Brooklyn Bridge in a rubber-tired hack to avoid jolting. 

After describing the decisive sixth inning, Runyon returned to Rucker:

A movement was launched in Brooklyn last night, after Napoleon had been taken back to his sarcophagus and the key returned to the official antiquarian of the borough, to prevent any future junketing of the great relic.  I am in favor of legislation that will prohibit Napoleon Rucker from pitching anywhere except Brooklyn hereafter, and then only on state occasions, such as “Pancake Tuesday,” declared Charles H. Ebbets. 

Runyon makes extensive use of hyperbole – exaggerating, not, as is often the case, to deceive, but rather to emphatically make his point that Rucker was no longer an effective major league pitcher.  Rucker was not only a “ruin” and a “relic,” he has to be moved with great care due to his extreme fragility.  On first reading, the comments may seem harsh, but they are more whimsical – entertaining in an amusing sort of way.  The characterization is so far-fetched, it should be difficult even for the most sensitive person to take it literally or seriously.  Runyon could have expressed his opinion far more harshly – think about how social media is used today to describe a player who can no longer perform. 

William Randolph Hearst - "Run Runyon daily, no cuts no matter what"

The article reads more like a column which was Runyon’s specialty. His writing was so popular that publisher William Randolph Hearst reportedly ordered his editors to “Run Runyon daily, no cuts no matter what serious piece you have to omit.” There are probably better examples of Runyon’s writing than this account of one baseball game.  What stands out in this one, however, is his opinion proved to be uncannily accurate, beginning with the tongue-in-cheek proposal that Rucker never pitch outside of Brooklyn again.  In fact, Rucker made only two more brief appearances, both in Brooklyn.  The second was in the 1916 World Series which was certainly the kind of “state occasion” Runyon had in mind.  It was also Rucker’s last major league game.  Runyon understood better than his peers that no matter how well Rucker pitched on September 7, he was no longer a major league starting pitcher.

Although he did it more succinctly and without hyperbole, Runyon was also the only writer to comment on the potential significance of Schupp’s performance, noting that “mayhap he has now arrived.”   Over his next six starts, Schupp allowed a minuscule two runs (a .35 ERA) as the Giants embarked on a 26-game winning streak, a record that still stands.  The young lefthander went on to win 20 games in 1917 including one in the World Series. “Mayhap” indeed! Runyon’s writing style was distinctly different, and perhaps not for everyone, but it was based on close and sound observation. While his readers may not have had the ballpark experience, any who read Runyon’s account knew as much and perhaps more than those who had been at the Polo Grounds that September day.

On the Field and In the Game

Although gone forever, early twentieth-century baseball fans are with us still, preserved in black and white photos dating back over a hundred years - a cloud of witnesses to the Deadball Era (1901-1919). As captured in these images, they were mostly white, male and neatly dressed – seemingly ready to attend something more formal than a baseball game.  The photos, however, regardless of the quality, don’t tell us much about what it was like to attend a game so many years ago.  Fortunately, however, the Chicago Daily News reporters who put together the “My Biggest Baseball Day” series, didn’t leave out the fans. Those memories, complemented by some players’ comments, reveal a ballpark experience very different from today, especially the opportunity to be on the field and to take part in the game itself. 

Part of the crowd at the Polo Grounds at the Merkle Replay Game of 10/8/1908 - George Bain Collection - Library of Congress

First of all, however, fans had to get to a game, something we take for granted, but which wasn’t so easy then.  Today only a small percentage of games conflict with the average fan’s work schedule. But during the early twentieth century, most were played during regular working hours.  The dilemma was even worse in the sabbath observing East, where major league baseball was illegal on Sunday.  Thus, only those with some control of their work schedule could even consider attending, which effectively ruled out most working-class people.  Baseball fans, however, have never lacked creativity, witness the many grandmothers who conveniently "died" right before big games.  When the 1909 Giants-Dodgers season opener was rained out, the Standard Union of Brooklyn observed that “there must have been a great many grandmothers’ funerals postponed yesterday on account of wet grounds.”     

Thomas Courtney, a 14-year-old student at St. Rita’s High School in Chicago, faced just such a challenge before the first game of the 1911 Cub-White Sox postseason city series. Courtney, a future State Attorney for Cook County in Illinois, knew two stockyard workers who got off work in time to attend the game but couldn’t purchase tickets in advance.  Pooling forces, the two men offered to pay Courtney’s way in, if he bought the tickets.  The offer was too good to refuse, but Courtney was supposed to be in school.  Sparing his grandmother, at least metaphorically, the young man opted to tell the truth to Father Egan, the head of the school, encouraged by knowing the priest was also a big baseball fan.  Honesty, in this case, was rewarded as Father Eagan “smiled and told me he didn’t see how he could deprive me of that opportunity.” 

Chicago Daily News - February 26, 1943

The fortunate Courtney didn’t mention what he and his friends did before the game, but for some fans, supporting their team began even before they arrived at the ballpark.  Charles Dougherty, another future Illinois State Attorney, remembered that it was customary for Cub fans to “escort” the hated Giants to the grounds.  Since visiting teams typically dressed at their hotel, they were easily identified in their bus or automobiles.  According to Dougherty, the fans hooted “at them [the Giants] from the sidewalks,” while “yelling insults at Muggsy McGraw.”   Dougherty was only present because he had the good fortune to be a mail clerk at the American Express Company, one of the few Chicago businesses to give their employees Saturday afternoon off. 

As satisfying as it was to harass the opposition, hardened veterans like McGraw’s Giants were immune to verbal abuse so the “hooting” and “insults” had no impact on the game itself.  Once inside the grounds, however, Deadball Era fans directly participated in the game in ways unthinkable today.  Especially unique, and historic, was the part played by Pittsburgh Pirate rooters, during the second game of the 1909 World Series.  Hall of Fame umpire, Billy Evans chose this, his first World Series game as his most memorable day in baseball in the Chicago Daily News series.  

Hall of Fame Umpire - Billy Evans

In the bottom of the first inning, Pittsburgh’s "Dots" Miller hit a ball down the right field line. The ball was clearly fair, but Evans, umpiring at home plate, didn’t see whether it bounced into the stands in fair or foul territory.  At the time, it mattered – a bounce into the stands in foul territory, was a double, but if it landed in the fair stands it was a home run. To make matters worse, only two umpires worked World Series games, and Evans' partner, Bill Klem couldn’t help him.  Not sure what to do, the two umpires along with Detroit Manager Hughie Jennings and Pirates skipper, Fred Clarke walked towards the bleachers.   

Prompted by a comment from Klem, Evans decided to ask the fans where the ball landed.  The Pirate fans, including the man who caught it, said it landed in the foul bleachers and was, therefore, only a double.  Faced with eyewitness testimony, from his own fans, Clarke was hard-pressed to argue, and Jennings wasn’t about to complain.  Not willing to press their luck with fan integrity, the National Commission immediately decided to use four umpires in future World Series games. 

Crowd Control, Deadball Era Style - Chicago Tribune, October 14, 1912

This was admittedly a very unusual situation. Far more common, were incidents of fans literally interfering with play, thanks to the owners’ desire to maximize their profits.  Ticket sales were by far the club owners’ most significant source of revenue at a time when seating capacity was limited, especially in the early 1900s.  Westside Park in Chicago, for example, the home of the Chicago Cubs, could seat only about 16,000.   To sell more tickets, fans were allowed to stand in the outfield behind ropes which theoretically kept them from interfering with the game.  The owners believed the benefit of the additional ticket sales for standing room on the field outweighed the risk of fan interference that could be controlled with ground rules and a police presence. 

Chicago Daily Tribune - August 18, 1912

However what sounded good in theory, didn’t always work so well in practice, especially for the players. Describing an important 1907 game at Philadelphia’s Shibe Park, Ty Cobb remembered that “There were fans, several rows deep, around the outfield, restrained by ropes and mounted police, and they weren’t the least bit friendly.”   Davy Jones, Cobb’s teammate, could attest to the unfriendliness. In the bottom of the eleventh, “dozens of paper balls thrown by the fans,” caused Jones to lose the real ball and allowed the Athletics to tie the game.   The number of missiles “fired” simultaneously, suggests this was not spontaneous, but a coordinated effort.

In talking about his “Biggest Baseball Day,” Charles Dougherty gave a detailed description of the ways fans in the roped-off sections interfered with a game.  Perhaps not surprisingly, it came in the middle of a Cubs – Giants game, a rivalry where passions always ran high, on August 17, 1912, at Chicago’s Westside Park.  New York was in first place, but the Cubs had closed to within six games and the contest was important to both teams.  While crowd estimates are notoriously inaccurate, Dougherty quoted reports by some observers that 8,000 fans were on the field behind the ropes.  

Charles S. Doherty - Chicago Daily News - March 20, 1943

Unwilling to stand there passively and hope their team would win, Dougherty and the other fans “would press back against the outfield walls” to give the Chicago outfielders more room when the Giants were at bat.  However, once the Cubs came to the plate, the crowd edged “halfway to second base” or that’s how Dougherty remembered it many years later.  Even if they didn’t get that close, the fans tried to help the Cubs by tripping the Giant outfielders or throwing their caps in the air to confuse them on fly balls. 

"Beals" Becker

John McGraw’s Giants weren’t going to tolerate interference from the Cubs fans. Dougherty claimed Giant center fielder, “Beals” Becker spit tobacco juice at them and threatened “The next ball that comes back in there I’m going to cut you to pieces with my spikes.”   Not the least intimidated, the fans dared him to try.  However, in the seventh, when Becker came in “feet kicking high,” the fans in his path wisely chose discretion, and backed away, enabling the Giant outfielder to make the catch.   Two innings later, in the bottom of the ninth, the fans not only got their revenge but helped the Cubs tie the game by preventing Becker from reaching a fly ball.  Over 30 years later, Dougherty claimed he could “hear yet the ragging we gave Becker and how he snarled and spit at us.”   

As the game headed to the 11th, the Chicago fans decided it was time to end the proceedings.  First, they “made a path for [center fielder Tommy] Leach” so he could catch Buck Herzog’s fly and keep the Giants off the scoreboard.   With a chance to win in the bottom of the inning, Johnny Evers hit the ball into the crowd standing in right field.  “Somehow,” Dougherty noted factiously, “the Red Sea didn’t open up for him [the Giants Red Murray] and he lost the ball.”   The next batter drove in the winning run, sending Dougherty and the rest of the crowd into a frenzy.  The fans had good reason to celebrate. Not only did their team win a dramatic victory, but they had helped them do it. It’s no wonder Dougherty recalled that “It was pretty late that evening before I remembered that there was such a thing as supper.”  Perhaps on this occasion, even the strictest parents understood.

  

Sunday at the Oval with Ray and Henry

Last fall, the Paterson Museum posted some digitized black and white baseball photos on their Facebook page, accompanied by a request for help with identification.  Identifying old baseball images can be a needle in the haystack type process, but this time, fortuitously, it was relatively simple.  Although it took more than one step, the key clue was the baseball socks worn by an unidentified New York City major league team.   A visit to the Baseball Hall of Fame’s always helpful "Dressed to the Nines" online exhibit revealed that only one New York team wore such socks – the 1917 National League champion Giants.  That discovery opened the door to the story of how two brothers, Ray and Henry Doherty, offered an incredibly rich baseball experience to fans in Paterson and surrounding communities.

 Except for the 1917 New York Giants team picture, all photos are the property of the Paterson Museum – some like the above have been cropped for enhanced viewing.  Click on the photos for an enlarged view.

While the individual pictures are interesting in their own right, collectively they tell, and preserve, a larger story about baseball over a century ago.  Ironically, at a time when major league baseball was the country's most popular sport, access to it was limited.  Not only were there just ten cities with major league teams, most games were played during fans' regular working hours.  This was especially true in the sabbath observing East, the only day most people had off from work.  It must have been frustrating for fans, especially younger ones, who loved baseball, but had little opportunity to see it in person.  Such, however, was not the situation in the greater Paterson area.  Thanks to the Dohertys, fans not only saw major league teams play, they experienced the full depth and breadth of early twentieth-century baseball. 

The Doherty brothers were the sons of Henry Doherty (1850-1915) an English immigrant who came to Paterson to work in the silk industry.  By the early twentieth century, his main business was the Henry Doherty Silk Company. In 1909 Doherty built a new mill in neighboring Clifton.  The building was reportedly the largest of its kind “under a single roof,” employing 700-800 workers. While no longer a silk mill, the building still stands today. Henry Sr. died in early 1915, leaving sons, Henry, or Harry as he was commonly known, and Ray, not only in charge of the silk business but also with the opportunity to pursue their passion for baseball.  While both men were involved, Harry was reportedly the leader.

  

Later that year, the two brothers built a baseball field with a wooden grandstand on an adjacent piece of property that became known as Doherty Oval.  Initially, the brothers fielded a typical company team, but a year later, they upgraded to a higher level of semi-pro baseball, calling the team, the Doherty Silk Sox.    Most of the games were played on Sundays when fans could attend.  Offering semi-pro baseball to the local community was important, but the Dohertys didn’t stop there.  They provided top-level baseball by spending the money necessary to attract high-level competition.  

To give a sense of the baseball experience at Doherty Oval, the museum has kindly agreed to share some of the images, beginning with pictures of the park itself.  

 

The above picture shows the covered wooden grandstand on the first base side.  Note the fire extinguisher on the far left, mandatory equipment for a wooden ballpark.  Also interesting is the wire netting, protecting the fans from thrown or batted balls.  The second tier of seating behind home plate was added early in the 1917 season.  Although located outside of Paterson, the field was readily accessible to city residents since “all Main Street cars and jitneys” passed the ballpark.   The band that played at most Sunday games was from the 5th Regiment, a unit preparing for service in World War I. 

Other than a few women in white in the first row of the second tier, the fans in this cropped version of the grandstand are almost entirely white males

This view of the left field stands is taken from the third baseline.  As was common at major league ballparks during this period, overflow crowds were permitted to stand or sit on the field in the deepest part of the outfield.  Unlike the major leagues, however, there weren’t any ropes to prevent them from interfering with the game.  Note the vendors, both in the stands and on the field.

This cropped version of the left field stands gives a sense of the crowd, again almost all male, white and well dressed, probably in their Sunday best.

Game action, against the Brooklyn Bushwicks on May 26, 1917.  In addition to the fans in the stands and on the field, a few boys were watching from trees behind the center field fence.  The Silk Sox players are Otto Rettig, pitcher, Shad Lewis, catcher, Fred Wherel, center field, Pete Grant, second base and Bobby Baxter, shortstop.  

This cropped version of the prior photo shows the quality of the infield grass at Doherty Oval.

A pre-game parade before the game with the Bushwicks.  The picture also offers a view of the right field stands, one level of covered seats with both a roof and a wire screen.  

During the 1917 season, the Dohertys gave their fans the chance to see the full range of professional baseball – major and minor league teams, Black clubs as well as top semi-professional teams.  Notable in the last category were the Brooklyn Bushwicks who visited the Oval on Sunday, May 26 and were soundly defeated by the home team, 7-0.  In addition to the Bushwicks, the Silk Sox also hosted top semi-pro teams from Pennsylvania and New Jersey.

This picture, taken in the top of the eighth, shows an unidentified Bushwick player recording one of the team’s five hits.  Note the lack of uniform numbers which didn’t become the norm until the 1920s.  The picture also shows the scoreboard on the outfield fence.  The Silk Sox players are Bill Estes, first base, Otto Rettig, pitcher and Fred Wherel, center field.

A pickoff attempt at first base.  Eddie Girard is the Bushwick pitcher and Denny Mark is the first baseman.  While the runner is unidentified, the picture gives a good sense of the team’s uniform including the Doherty name.

Two weeks before the game with the Bushwicks, another Brooklyn team, visited Doherty Oval – the Brooklyn Royal Giants, a prominent Black club.  In promoting the game, the Paterson Morning Call acknowledged, some 30 years before Jackie Robinson, that “It is only their color that keeps them out of the big show.”   That was especially true of Louis Santop, the Royal Giants catcher, a member of the Baseball Hall of Fame.  According to the Hall’s website, Santop was the “first Negro superstar.”   The star catcher hit .397 in 1917 for a team that according to the Seamheads database was the third best among the Eastern Independents. Unfortunately, as good as he was, Santop’s play that day, made little difference in an 8-1 Silk Sox win.

This wasn’t local fans' only opportunity to see Black clubs.  The Silk Sox also won two of three games from the Cuban Stars, the team ranked right above the Royal Giants.  Although it wasn’t on Sunday, fans able to attend Saturday games also got to see the best of the Eastern Independents, the Lincoln Giants on two occasions.  One game ended in a tie, but the second, unsurprisingly, was a defeat at the hands, or arm, of the Giants star pitcher Cyclone/Smokey Joe Williams, like Santop a future member of the Hall of Fame.  A 1952 poll taken by the Pittsburgh Courier, ranked Williams as the top Negro Leagues pitcher, slightly ahead of Satchel Paige.   By the end of 1917, Paterson baseball fans were well aware of what Black players could do on the baseball diamond.

The Brooklyn Royal Giants uniform was described as “checkerboard black and white plaid with red trimmings” with an American flag on the left arm.   The Royal Giants players pictured are Ernest Greenwood at first, Bill Handy at Second and Charles Earle, the team’s manager in center.

The Royal Giant batter is unidentified, the Silk Sox catcher is Artie Pickering.

The picture offers a front view of the Royal Giants uniform which appears to have Brooklyn across the chest.  The player is unidentified.  The Silk Sox in the picture are first baseman Bill Estes and second baseman Pete Grant.

While the semi-pro and Black opponents were talented, the most important attraction offered by the Dohertys was the opportunity to see major league teams in person.  During the 1917 season, local fans had the chance to see five of the sixteen major league teams with three National League and two American League teams making an appearance.  Four of the five, Boston and Pittsburgh from the senior circuit and the Athletics along with the Yankees from the American League were second-division teams.  But Paterson fans did get to see the National League pennant-winning Giants not once, but twice.

Needless to say, the second-division teams didn’t bring a lot of stars.  However, the fans did see Ping Bodie, Stuffy McInnis and Home Run Baker at the end of their careers.  They also saw Wally Pipp before he, and almost anyone else, had heard of Lou Gehrig.  There was also the opportunity to honor Honus Wagner, one of the game’s greatest players and a local hero.  About to retire from baseball, Wagner and the Pirates visited Doherty Oval so the city could pay homage one more time to the Hall of Famer who once wore a Paterson uniform.  According to Wagner, he enjoyed his time in the city so much that “nobody can knock Paterson when I’m around.”   Over 5000 fans turned out for the occasion and Wagner was presented with a 72-piece silver set.  While the Silk Sox managed only one win against the major league clubs, they did so in dramatic fashion beating the Yankees 5-3 on Bill Estes' grand slam home run in the bottom of the ninth.

It was understandable that the Silk Sox lost both meetings with the National League champion Giants, but the New York club had learned the hard way not to take the local team for granted.  Late in the 1916 season, the day after the end of the Giants' 26-game winning streak, a record that still stands, Silk Sox pitcher Otto Rettig shut out the New Yorkers 2-0. Of the two 1917 games, the more important was the July 8th contest.  Sportswriter, Sam Crane, a former major league player, used the occasion to raise money for Paterson's Jim McCormick, a great nineteenth-century pitcher who was in poor health.  With the Giants playing “gratis” and the Dohertys paying all the other expenses, the admission paid by 9000 fans generated a “tidy sum” for McCormick, reportedly just over $1600, no small amount at the time. 

1917 New York Giants 

The above floral wreath of an “American flag worked out in flowers” was presented to the Doherty brothers before the July 8th game with the Giants.  It was presented by Madison, New Jersey in thanks for allowing the Silk Sox to represent that community in the Tri-County League of semi-pro teams.

George Burns, Giants left fielder, hit .302 in 1917, the second-highest average on the pennant-winning team.  He led the National League in runs scored (103) and walks (75).

Germany Schaefer, a Giant coach in 1917, was renowned for entertaining the crowd with his comic antics.  After the Giants' May visit to Doherty Oval, the Morning Call observed that Schaefer “had the fans laughing from the time he arrived until he departed.”   

Although only a small part of the Sunday experience at Doherty Oval, these pictures capture the spirit of the baseball seen there at a time when attending a game in person wasn't that easy.  Those weekly adventures generated priceless memories for countless greater Paterson residents.  It’s a part of baseball history that deserves to be preserved and remembered.  Thanks to the Paterson Museum for doing that important work.