Few baseball players have been remembered in such diametrically opposed ways as George Rohe of the 1906 Chicago White Sox. According to Joe Farrell, the leader of the White Sox fan club, Rohe was “one of the worst infielders in the game,” as well as “a weakling at bat.” However, Fred Lieb, a well-known writer, thought differently. Lieb claimed Rohe was “a by-word in big league baseball” and “an inspiration” to players who weren’t stars.
Surprisingly, both opinions, although seemingly irreconcilable, are correct or at least have a basis in fact. There is plenty of statistical evidence to back up Farrell’s low opinion of Rohe who hit only in .227 in a four-year career of less than 300 games. Included in those games, however, were the six games of the 1906 World Series where Rohe was the batting hero of what was, and remains, one of the greatest upsets in baseball history.
It’s hard to think of a more David-Goliath like matchup. Representing the National League were Frank Chance’s Chicago Cubs, winners of 116 games, a record that has been matched only once. So dominant were the Cubs that the second-place Giants who finished 40 games over .500 came in a distant 20 games behind Chicago. The champions of the American League, still very much the junior circuit, were Fielder Jones’ Chicago White Sox, a weak hitting team that didn’t clinch the pennant until the last few days of the season.
Although the Sox struggled offensively, Rohe wasn’t good enough to break into the starting lineup. In fact, if team owner Charlie Comiskey had his way, Rohe wouldn’t have even been on the roster. The White Sox owner wanted to send Rohe to New Orleans only to be blocked by Giants manager, John McGraw who had a grudge against the New Orleans team. Rohe’s role in the World Series would have been limited, but with George Davis unavailable for the first three games, Rohe got a once in a lifetime chance and he made the most of it.
In his Chicago Daily News oral history, Rohe discusses an important triple he hit in game one and an even more crucial one in the third contest. A close look at the first four games which the two teams split shows the importance of those hits. In those contests, the White Sox scored only six runs. Rohe scored one and drove in three others. So weak was the Sox’s offense that they had only eleven hits in four games, a pathetic .097 batting average. Had Rohe not delivered twice in the clutch, the Cubs might very well have swept the series or at least held a commanding 3-1 lead. Instead of being one of the greatest upsets in World Series history, the 1906 Fall Classic could have been just one more predictable mismatch.
Rohe’s story wasn’t included in the book versions of the greatest day series so this is one of the few times it has appeared in print since 1944. It marked the first time a bit player stole the show on what Tyler Kepner called the game’s “Greatest Stage.” It’s a story well worth remembering.
George Rohe as told to Francis Powers
On October 4, 1906, the Chicago White Sox clinched the American League championship, after a long battle with the Highlanders (now Yankees). Chicago immediately went baseball crazy. The Cubs had been in for a couple of weeks so Chicago was headed for its first and only “city” World Series.
The night the Sox clinched the pennant I remember Fielder Jones telling newspaper men: “Barring accidents we’ll win the World Series.” That was big talk around Chicago for the Cubs that season set a record that still stands with 116 victories and only 36 defeats. That the fans thought Jones was talking big was shown when they made the Cubs 2-1 favorites on the day the series opened in the Cubs park on the West Side.
A couple of days before the series started, the “accident” with which Jones qualified his prediction happened. George Davis the regular shortstop was injured. And that was the break that gave me, George Rohe, the chance to play in the series and get my name in the records. I had been the general handyman around the infield all season, playing second, short and third in 62 games. I played second through the Sox 19 game winning streak that started in Detroit on July 27, when Frank Isbell was injured, but I was much more at home at short or third. That winning streak still stands as the American League record and it made the Sox pennant contenders.
As all old-time fans will remember, the Sox that season were called the “Hitless Wonders” and had a batting average of only .230. I think it was Charley Dryden who described a Sox batting rally as “a base on balls, stolen base, wild pitch and passed ball.” Maybe it wasn’t quite that bad but the Cubs had a team average of .273 and that was big hitting in those days. We had a great pitching staff: Ed Walsh, Frank Owen and the southpaws, Nick Altrock and “Doc” White. We’d won, pretty largely, on their pitching and a good defense. But the Cubs had Miner Brown, Jeff Overall, Ed Reulbach and Jack Pfiester. Fans thought they were as good or better than our fellows.
Frank Chance must have thought so for a couple of days before the series he snarled: “I don’t care to play post season games in the press or hotel lobbies. We beat the White Sox last fall . . .” The Cubs were so sure they were going to win the series that several days before it started the papers told of them wrangling over whether they’d take watch fobs or rings as their world’s champion emblems.
When Jones was certain Davis couldn’t start the series, he changed his infield, moving Lee Tannehill from third to short and putting me at third: which was my best position. And because I hit .265 during the season he put me in the cleanup position.
The series opened on October 9, a cold, drizzly day, in the West Side park. Most of the Sox shared Jones’ confidence we’d win the series but after seeing the Cub infield of Chance, Evers, Tinker and Steinfeldt go through practice before the first game, we really were sort of ashamed to go out on the field.
Chance wasn’t taking any chances with the upstarts from the South Side and named Brownie to pitch. Jones started Nick Altrock. Now Nick not only was a great pitcher but he never had an equal at picking runners off first and when he was working you had five fielders on the infield. A first and third baseman never had to worry about bunts.
The game started to be a pitcher’s battle and I mean a battle. Frank Schulte made the only hit for either side in the fist four innings although I was credited with robbing Harry Steinfeldt of a double or triple with a one-hand stop and throw.
I was first up in our half of the fifth and I got hold of one of Brownie’s fast balls and rifled it down the third-base line. Steinfeldt never had a chance to field the ball and as Jimmy Sheckard charged over toward the foul line he missed it and it rolled into the crowd for a triple. Patsy Dougherty was next up and he rolled to Brown but I was on my way home and slid over safely when Kling dropped the throw to the plate. We got another in the sixth and the Cubs also scored when the Sox missed a double play and the game ended 2-1.
The Hitless Wonders had beaten the Cubs’ best pitcher and the papers acclaimed me as the “hero” of the game. I guess I would have settled at the time for that game as my greatest thrill but there was another and greater one coming up.
The next day in the Sox park the Cubs won 7-1, when Reulbach held us to two hits while Chance’s crew blasted White and Owen for 10. That was the Cubs’ rooters day to crow. I didn’t do anything at the plate that day, outside of getting a couple of walks and we were the “Hitless Wonders” again.
Back in the West Side park for the third game, my greatest day was in the making. It was Walsh against Pfiester and that day the Cubs were “Hitless but not Wonders.” Big Ed held them to just two hits, one a double by Schulte. We made only four but with the facility we had shown over the season, we made them count.
Nothing much happened during the first five innings for both Walsh and Pfiester were pitching masterful ball. The break started in the sixth when Tannehill singled inside the third-base line, just out of “Steiny’s” reach. Walsh went up to sacrifice but Pfiester was wild and Ed waited him out. Then Jones told Frank Hahn to sacrifice, playing percentage all the time. Pfiester threw a high pitch that struck Frank in the face breaking his nose. So “Tip” O’Neill ran for him. It looked like Jack was pitching himself out of trouble when he made Jones foul out and fanned Isbell.
So I came to bat again. I never was a fellow to guess with a pitcher. I hit what looked good to me. This time I hit the first pitch. Another low drive down the third-base line that rolled into the crowd for a triple, cleaning the bases. Three runs and that was the game.
We used to have what we called a “Sandwich Club” on the Sox. Any time we got two runs ahead, we’d send out and get a batch of hot dogs. We figured a two-run lead was all we ever needed. So after my triple, the hot dog boy had plenty of customers.
That was my greatest day. Brownie beat Altrock in the fourth game, allowing only two hits, but then the Cubs were finished. We won the next two 8-6 and 8-3 and the series. Brown came back as the Cubs last hope in the sixth game but we got to him for seven runs in the first two innings. You know we carried Brownie at such a terrific pace in the first two games he didn’t have much left. In his first two starts the Cubs got him only two runs and he had to pitch himself out. I got three hits in the fifth game and two in the sixth to lead the Sox in batting with .333 per cent.





































