Having

Probably like most grandparents, Carol and I have a tendency to remind Sophie (9) and Henry (6) of all the things they take for granted that we didn't have.  Not too long ago we knew we were overdoing it when Sophie, throwing up her hands in exasperation, asked plaintively - "What did you have?"  Fortunately, something else intervened, relieving us of having to answer the question.  For some reason, however, the question led me to reflect on what it was like to follow major league baseball when I was Sophie's age, back in 1956, the first year I followed the Brooklyn Dodgers on a daily basis.  Fortunately for me, the season was one of those great, now gone forever, winner take all pennant races that came down to the very last day.  When I got up on Sunday, September 30, 1956, the Dodgers had a one game lead on the Milwaukee Braves and a win that afternoon would give them (and me) the National League pennant. Without a second thought, I took for granted that I could watch the game on our black and white Dumont television.  There was no way to follow the Braves game, but the Dodger announcers gave inning by inning recaps of that game.  In the end, however, the other game didn't matter since the Dodgers defeated the Pirates to win their last National League pennant in Brooklyn.

Built in 1852, the Boston Music Hall was converted to a vaudeville theatre in 1900 and renamed the Orpheum Theater it still exists today

Although the primary interest in the Braves was in Milwaukee, there still had to be some Braves fans left in Boston, especially since the team had only been gone for four seasons.  Let's imagine one such fan was a 76 year old Boston man who had been a Braves fan since he was a child.  The end of the 1956 National League might have triggered his memories of the 1889 pennant race when he was just nine years old - a time when he didn't have television or radio to follow his team.   Then called the Beaneaters, Boston had been in a season long battle with the New York Giants for the National League pennant.  Prior to 1889, only one National League race (1886) had come down to the season's final day.  But with just one day left in the 1889 season, only two percentage points separated the two teams. Unfortunately for Boston and the young fan, however, the two point advantage belonged to the Giants.  Still as he woke up on Saturday, October 5th, the young Boston fan knew his team still had a chance and that's all any baseball fan really asks for.  Unlike another nine year old in 1956, however,  following the day's action wasn't going to be quite so simple.

 

Records of the Giants and Beaneaters as play began on the season's last day.  At the time, teams didn't have to play the same number of games so winning percentage was the deciding factor in the pennant race - Boston Globe, October 5, 1889

If Boston had been playing at home and, if our nine year old fan had 25 cents, he might have wended his way to the South End Grounds to cheer on his team in person.  Such was not the case, however, the Beaneaters were in Pittsburgh while the Giants tried to wrap up the pennant in Cleveland, then a National League city.  And there was, of course, no television, radio or Internet to help him out - imagine his frustration if he could have seen into the future and known what he was missing.  Other than wait around for special editions of the  Boston newspapers - what could this diehard Beaneater fan do?  Fortunately all was not lost because if enough people are willing to pay for something, some enterprising soul will figure out a way to provide it.   A year earlier in 1888, New York Giant fans, as well as anyone just passing by, could follow the New York team's games more or less in real time on a large baseball bulletin board outside the offices of the New York World.  The board had been invented and patented by Edward Sims Van Zile, one of the papers writers, who, coincidentally, was married to the niece of Morgan Bulkeley, first president of the National League. 

Boston Globe - October 5, 1889

Zile had been encouraged to patent his invention by Edwin Grozier, an editor at the World, who then purchased the rights with plans to offer the service elsewhere, but at a price.  During the 1888-89 offseason, the Beaneater owners significantly upgraded their roster, insuring Boston would be a contender.  So great was the anticipation for the 1889 season that Grozier found no shortage of demand for a service that enabled fans, including our nine-year old, to follow the Beaneaters when they were away from home. Unlike New York, however, where the service was free, Bostonians would pay for the privilege of viewing Grozier's (and Zile's) baseball bulletin at the Boston Music Hall. After offering free access for one game in June, there was a 10 cent admission charge where fans could follow the action while enjoying cigars and sipping, unfortunately, "temperance drinks." Anticipating twentieth century owners who feared broadcasting home games on radio and then television would hurt attendance, the Music Hall option was only available when Boston was on the road.  So our diehard young fan left his Boston home and headed, not towards South End Grounds, but rather to the Boston Music Hall on Walnut Street.  

Boston Globe - June 2, 1889

It is to be hoped he arrived early since about an hour before game time, the line to the ticket window was so long, it took a half-hour to go 100 feet.  As the first pitch approached, all the seats were taken including the galleries while the aisles were "well crowded" with standees.  All of them, including the nine year old, were looking at a white board, 15 feet square which contained an 8 by 11 foot playing field.  Originally the field had been green, but white had proved to be a better background.  As can be seen in the above image, to the left and right of the field were the two teams' batting orders. Above the batting orders were totals for runs, outs and the inning by inning score with Boston's results in red and Pittsburgh's in blue.  Although Boston was the visiting team, in 1889 batting first or second was determined by a coin toss and the Beaneaters began the game in the field.  At each fielding position was a white disc with a number representing the player's position in the batting order.  Since uniform numbers were still decades away, there was something to the promotional claim that following the game on the board made for easier identification of players than at the ballpark.

Hall of Fame pitcher John Clarkson

As Boston's John Clarkson threw his final warm up pitches, an "expert reporter" in the grandstand in far off Pittsburgh took his place next to a "direct [telegraph] wire" to the Music Hall.  Our young fan was doubtless disappointed when the first thing he saw was white disc number one being moved to first base signaling that Clarkson had walked the leadoff batter.  Things got worse quickly when a little flag was placed in short right field indicating Jack Rowe's "short fly" had landed in between three Boston players and then bounced off of one of them, allowing the runners to advance another base.  Now there were discs (runners) on second and third and none out.  Clarkson got the next batter to ground out to short, but a run scored and a single by Pittsburgh's "Doggie Miller" drove in a second run. Still it was only the first inning and Boston had plenty of offensive fire power.  The Beaneaters were not out of the woods, however, as discs were moved to first and third thanks to an error by Boston shortstop "Pop" Smith.  Although Clarkson got the next out, Pittsburgh's Ned Hanlon grounded to Smith who compounded his earlier error  with a bad throw allowing the third Pittsburgh run of the inning to score. 

Edwin Grozier

Although Boston managed to get out of the inning with no further scoring, a Globe reporter noted that the air in the music hall, usually filled with the rarified sounds of Beethoven or Handel, was now reverberating with "groans and hisses."  Most of the negative noise likely stopped when Boston came to the bat, but after Hardy Richardson and Mike "King" Kelly could muster nothing more than a foul fly and a ground ball back to the pitcher, it was clearly not Boston's day.  While Billy Nash's single may have briefly revived some hopes, Dan Brouthers went out on a fly ball and Pittsburgh was on their way to a 6-1 win.  In the end, the Boston game didn't matter, since the Giants won their game and the pennant.  As our nine year old fan made his way home, knowing sadly that his team had come up short, it was probably of small consolation that he was able to follow the action almost as it happened instead of enduring two or more hours of stress filled waiting.  

Boston Globe - October 6, 1889

Our young Beaneater fan might, however, have been somewhat lest despondent if he had known his favorite team would go on to win five pennants in the 1890s.  After that, however, it was a long drought, broken only in 1914 when his team, now called the Braves, swept the powerful Athletics in the World Series.  By the time the Braves appeared in the 1948 Fall Classic, he was in his late 60s and very possibly a grandfather.  All of the World Series games were on radio and if he listened with his grandchildren, he might have thought back to that day almost 60 years ago at the Music Hall.  He could even have told them that he didn't have baseball radio broadcasts to listen to when he was boy, which might have prompted the question "What did you have?"  If so, he very likely told them how he took full advantage of what was then state of the art technology, but it was nothing compared to what they had in 1948.  All of that would have been true, but there is a deeper and more important truth here. Despite all the technological differences, there was one thing all these fans, real and imagined did have, regardless of whether it was 1889, 1948, 1956 or even today. They all had baseball - the greatest game of all.  And perhaps all of us, including grandparents, need to think as much about what we do or did have compared to what we didn't.

In Search of Mike Kelly - A Beginning

Since early July, I've spent about two hours a day, scrolling through nineteenth century newspapers on my laptop, primarily the Chicago Tribune and the Boston Globe.  Every so often, Carol asks me what I'm working on - a truly rhetorical question because she already knows the answer - Mike Kelly.  Although Kelly's name was a household word in the 1880s, he is nowhere near as well known or remembered today except in the relatively small world of baseball historians.  That's unfortunate because over a 16 year Hall of Fame career, Kelly was a lifetime .300 hitter and became baseball's first rock star personality.  I first became interested in Kelly since, although born in Troy, New York, he grew up and learned to play baseball in Paterson, New Jersey.  In the mid 1870s, Kelly was a member of the city's Olympic Club, a team that sent Kelly and three other players (Edward "the Only" Nolan, Jim McCormick and Blondie Purcell) to the major leagues, an achievement matched by very few semi-pro teams of the day. 

One of the most famous Kelly legends where our hero straddles the base line allowing teammate Ed Williamson to score the winning run - Chicago Chronicle - August 8, 1897

Kelly had by far the best career of the four which earned him Hall of Fame induction in 1945, but his claim to fame doesn't end there.  Many of his contemporaries considered Kelly, known as "King" Kelly or "the only" Kel, the greatest player of the nineteenth century.  A sentiment echoed years later by Damon Runyan and other sportswriters.  A desire to understand why Kelly has been elevated to a pedestal above his peers motivated me to research his playing career in depth. Typically, the standard way to evaluate baseball greatness is comparing statistical records.  Eight of Kelly's contemporaries (not including pitchers) are also members of the Hall of Fame including Cap Anson, Roger Connor and Buck Ewing. In most cases, the Paterson product's numbers don't compare favorably to his Hall of Fame contemporaries.  To take just two examples, of the group, Kelly has only the sixth highest lifetime batting average and by the Sabermetrics tool of Wins Above Replacement (W.A.R.), he comes in eighth, next to the bottom.

In one of the most far-fetched pieces of Kelly lore, the Hall of Famer supposedly helped Cap Anson score the winning run by preventing two Giant players from retrieving a ball that had rolled into a tunnel by holding the door shut until Anson scored.  Needless to say the story has not been confirmed - Republican Gazette (Lima, Ohio), October 1, 1911

Kelly's reputation seems to be based more on stories than statistics and the number of anecdotes about his baseball exploits is legion.  Unfortunately, however, reputations based on anecdotes and stories have validity only to the extent they are built on a foundation of fact.  And even more unfortunately, very few of the intriguing stories about Kelly have been confirmed.  This is especially true of the most famous Kelly legend, when, while on the bench, he tried to substitute himself into the game in order to catch a foul fly thereby getting his Boston club out a tight spot.  Since all of the eyewitnesses to Kelly's exploits are long since gone, it seemed the best, and perhaps only way to resolve the gap between legend and reality is to examine the only surviving eyewitness evidence, contemporary newspaper accounts of his 1456 major league games.  As a result since July, I've read/skimmed all but about 150 of the total, with the remnant from the last few years of his career by which point his reputation was well established.  My purpose is not to confirm or refute that Kelly was the best player of the nineteenth century, but rather to understand why he was so considered.  

George Weidman (second from the left, seated on the floor) as a member of the 1887 Detroit Club - Frank N. Tomlinson - New York Public Library

While the search has not uncovered any basis for the "Kelly now catching" story, it has found what appears to be the source of another famous story of the "Only" Kel.  It's a story that has been told frequently, but the version in the August 8, 1897 edition of the Chicago Chronicle is preferable because it was told by George Weidman, who claimed that he was not only an eyewitness, but a participant.  In the article, the former major league pitcher described how Kelly devised and used a trick play to defeat Weidman's Detroit club.  According to Weidman, Kelly and his Chicago White Stocking teammate Ed Williamson had just pulled off a double steal to put runners on second and third.  Kelly, who was the lead runner, pretended to be injured in order to talk with Williamson.  "Kel" told Williamson that on the next pitch, he, Kelly, was going to take off for home and Williamson should follow him as fast as possible. Then Kelly said, "when I get pretty close to the plate I'll straddle and you slide under me."  Weidman, who was the opposing pitcher thought Kelly was injured and wasn't prepared for his mad dash towards home.  As a result, Weidman

                        hesitated for a moment or two before sending 

                        the ball to Bennett [the catcher], and in the meantime 

                        Williamson had cut third a dozen feet, unnoticed 

                        by the umpire, and was close on Kelly's heels.  

                        A few feet from the plate, Kelly stopped short

                        and spread out his legs, and Williamson dived 

                        between them and reached the plate in safety, 

                        almost upsetting Bennet, who thought of nothing,

                        but tagging Kell out.  It was the winning run, and 

                        it was Kelly's presence of mind and impudent daring

                        that won the game.

             

Unlike many Kelly stories, this version is fairly detailed, but unfortunately no record of any such play has been confirmed.  What has been found, however, is an account of a similar play in a June 28, 1880 game between Kelly's White Stockings and the Worcester club, then a major league team.  According to the Chicago Tribune of June 29, 1880, in the first inning, as in the Weidman version, Kelly was on third and Williamson second.  What follows, however, according to the unnamed writer, is quite different

                        With the infielders playing well inside the base lines,

                        Williamson took long ground, actually getting two-thirds 

                        of the way to third base; so that when Anson hit 

                        Corey [the shortstop] a difficult bounder which he did

                        well to stop and send to first ahead of the striker, 

                        Williamson ran like a deer for home close behind Kelly, 

                        and two earned runs were scored, where ordinary 

                        base-running would have produced one.

"Such" said the paper, "is the science of base-running and the taking of fair chances."  Note the similarities between this account of an actual play and the Weidman story - the same two players, also on second and third, using aggressive base running to score.  It's impossible to be certain, but based on the similarities it's reasonable to believe this is the basis for the legend or myth as it grew in the telling.  

Ed Williamson (far left, first row) as a member of the Chicago White Stockings (today's Cubs).  Mike Kelly is the second from the right in the first row.

Far more important, however, are the differences.  In the 1880 game, Williamson is the prime mover, not Kelly, who simply exercised routine good base running compared to Williamson whose aggressive play is what makes the story noteworthy.  Perhaps of even greater significance, however, is that in the Tribune account, Williamson, while being aggressive, is playing well within the rules whereas in the Weidman story, the play combines cheating and stretching the rules.  Not touching or cutting third was clearly a rules violation, while the straddle and slide is legal only if the two players arrive simultaneously.  Once Kelly was tagged out, he was no longer entitled to the base path. Unless the tag of Kelly and Williamson's slide occur at almost exactly the same instant, both men are out, Kelly on the tag and Williamson on Kelly's interference.  Since such split second timing, even by cutting third would be difficult, if not impossible to achieve, Weidman's story is improbable at best.  

White Stockings Park where the 1880 Kelly - Williamson play took place - this drawing is actually of the park after 1883 renovations

It's certainly possible that Weidman was doing nothing more than trying to fool gullible minds with a tall-tale.  It's more likely, however, that while playing loose with the facts, his intent was to illustrate one aspect of Kelly's many talents, in this case, his knowledge of the rules and how to use or bend them to his advantage.  And there's no question that Kelly did just that. On August 9, 1879, just his second year in the majors, Kelly provided a less colorful, but more realistic example of what Weidman was trying to show.  While playing for Cincinnati against Chicago, his soon to be team, the Paterson product stretched a single into a double.  According to the Cincinnati Enquirer, Kelly rounded first 

                        necessarily going wide of the path leading from 

                        first to second. The ball was thrown to Quest to 

                        intercept him, but Quest had to step back ten or

                        twelve feet to take it.  Kelly passed him  

                        without being touched.  He was not on  the path 

                        and coming in on the curve.  Quest 

                        was on the line and claimed an out, 

                        but  Houtz [the umpire] very correctly ruled that 

                        the rule was made to prevent a runner from leaving 

                        the path to avoid being touched and did not cover 

                        a play like the one made.

Not satisfied with staying at second, Kelly observed the ensuing argument and more importantly that time had not been called so he

 

                      deliberately started on a run for third from 

                         the middle of the crowd.  Quest threw the ball 

                         hurriedly to Larkin, who was the only player 

                         in a position to intercept the runner.  But he 

                         muffed the ball, and Kelly scored.

This story may not be as colorful as Weidman's tall-tale, but it has the advantage of being true, no small thing in any discussion of Kelly legends.  It's important to distinguish between using the rules to help your team, as Kelly did here, and cheating which he certainly did on other occasions.  Knowing the rules and using them to your advantage is of special note since it's something every player can do because it has nothing to do with talent.  What stands out about Kelly is that he didn't rely solely on his very impressive physical talents.  In addition, this is just one of Kelly's many talents that can't be measured statistically.  It's no wonder then that his peers came to rely on stories to illustrate his greatness, stories that grew beyond their literal truth. Based on what I've seen so far, however, looking as at what Kelly actually did provides an even better appreciation of this great ballplayer.  It's something I hope to expand on in far greater depth sometime in 2022 - stay tuned!

                   

     

 

A Feat With No Name

When the Neshanock offense erupted for 49 runs in early September, it was inevitable one or two players would at least flirt with getting every possible type of hit.  Sure enough Danny "Lefty" Gallagher had a single, double, triple and home run while Dan "Sledge" Hammer came up just one short.  Naturally as soon as "Lefty" had the full complement of hits, there were comments on the Neshanock bench that he had hit for the cycle.  While there was no doubt he had met all the requirements, I was fairly confident the term "hit for the cycle" wasn't used in 1860s newspaper accounts of baseball matches.  It was, however, a little bit of surprise to learn that the expression didn't become part of baseball parlance until the twentieth century.  While the Dickson Baseball Dictionary cites a 1933 Washington Post article about Hall of Famer Jimmy Foxx as the first usage, an in depth SABR article on the subject determined the phrase was used in 1921 when George Sisler reached the milestone.  According to the Baseball Almanac, Sisler's cycle was the 70th in major league history, so while the name may have been new, the accomplishment certainly wasn't.  

Although not as well known as Hall of Fame teammates Dan Brouthers, Pud Galvin, Jim O'Rourke and Deacon White, Curry Foley (second row from the top, on the left) hit .305 for the 1882 Buffalo Club - McGreevey Collection, Boston Public Library

According to some accounts, George Hall of the Athletic Club of Philadelphia was the first to accomplish the feat in 1876 during the National League's inaugural season, but other contemporary articles put him one hit short.  The earliest confirmed cycle belongs to Charles "Curry" Foley  of Buffalo (yes, Buffalo once had a major league team) during an 20-1, 1882 rout of the Cleveland club, then also a National League team.  Foley began his cycle with a grand slam, the first of only nine players whose cycle included a bases loaded home run. However, not only didn't the contemporary newspaper account use the phrase "hit for the cycle," it also didn't use the term "grand slam" which according to the Dickson Dictionary wasn't used in it's modern sense until 1929.  Foley added a bases clearing triple in the second inning giving him seven RBI's in two at bats, but although that term was in use at the time, Foley received no such credit in the Buffalo Courier or the Buffalo Commercial.  

Riverside Park, Buffalo - site of the first major league cycle

Since Buffalo's scored 20 runs, it would be reasonable to think Reilly's feat came against a somewhat less than top notch pitcher.  However the man in the pitcher's box that day was George Bradley, who, at least earlier in his career, was a highly effective pitcher.  In 1876 Bradley not only pitched the new league's first no-hitter, he also recorded 16 shutouts a record matched only by Hall of Famer Grover Cleveland Alexander in 1916.  Unless the current approach to pitching undergoes a mammoth sea change, that record has no chance of being broken.  Clearly Bradley's effectiveness had waned by 1882 and just a year later, he had the dubious distinction of allowing another cycle, this time to Cincinnati's John Reilly, the first of three for the Cincinnati player  Although Reilly is almost completely forgotten today, he has the distinction of doing three times what Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth and Willie Mays never accomplished once.  Even more unusually Reilly hit for the cycle twice in a single week.

John Reilly

All told, only five major league players have hit for the cycle three times (as far as I can tell there are no records available for Negro League players.) Two modern players, Adrian Beltre and Trea Turner are members of this very exclusive three cycle club with Turner reaching the mark just this past season so he could become the first four cycle player in major league history.  The remaining two members played about a century ago beginning with Bob Meusel who had a 12 year career almost entirely with the great New York Yankee teams of the Roaring Twenties.  As a teammate of Ruth and Lou Gehrig, Meusel is often understandably overlooked, but he was a lifetime .300 hitter who ranks fourth in RBI's and fifth in home runs of all players from the 1920s.  He also stole home twice in the World Series, a record that remains unbroken today.  Especially impressive among Meusel's cycles is the first which was recorded against Hall of Famer Walter Johnson, one of the game's greatest right handed pitchers.

Bob Meusel

Perhaps somewhat improbably, the final three cycle hitter is "Babe" Herman, who if he is remembered today, it's because of his zany behavior rather than his very real hitting prowess.  Over a 13 year major league career, Herman compiled a .324 lifetime batting average including hitting .393 in 1940.  Herman spent most of his career with the Brooklyn Dodgers when they were known as the "daffiness boys" and he became the poster child of that daffiness.   The ultimate story of the zany Dodgers is that they once had three men simultaneously on the same base (something frowned on by Abner Doubleday) and Herman was at the center of that embarrassing and memorable moment.  In a 1926 game at Ebbets Field, the Dodgers had the bases loaded with one out, down one run.  Herman hit a vicious line drive which he understandably thought was a triple, only to find on his arrival at third that one cautious and one aggressive base runner were also there.  As a result, Herman is the only player in baseball history to double into a double play, although it is often  forgotten that the runner on third scored what proved to be the winning run.  This escapade led to the famous story of the cab driver, who when told the Dodgers had three men on base responded - "Which base?"

Babe Herman

Herman recorded two of his cycles as a Dodger before the term came into common usage.  The first took place on May 18, 1931 highlighted by a "prodigious home run into the stands in left center."  "Prodigious" or not, a year earlier the blow might not have reached the stands since the now famous outfield stands at Ebbets Field were built the prior winter.  Otherwise the hit might have been limited to a double or a triple in the previously expansive outfield.   While Herman may very well have deserved his reputation for being "daffy," he had enough baseball sense on this day to complete his cycle with a bunt single which "completely fooled the Cincinnati infield." While it has never been confirmed another famous story about Herman is that he was hit on the head by a fly ball.  Interestingly in his account of this game, Jack Ryder of the Cincinnati Enquirer reported that in addition to his batting, Herman's play that day was marked by catching a "fly ball after [he was] nearly hit in the head with it."  

Ebbets Field before the outfield stands were built during the winter of 1931

The Babe's third and final cycle came as a member of the Chicago Cubs on September 30, 1933 at Sportsman's Park in St. Louis.  Like Meusel before him, Herman didn't earn the cycle against just any pitcher, hitting a home run and a triple against Hall of Famer Dizzy Dean. Herman's efforts contributed to what was an important victory for the Cubs since it clinched third place and World Series money for the Chicago players, no small thing in a day of limited salaries.  Nor was Herman's cycle without drama since he came to bat in the ninth with just the two hits off Dean before starting a Chicago rally with a double.  Fortunately, the Cubs batted around and Herman finished off his third cycle with a single in his second at bat of the inning.  Babe's third cycle (the 105th in major league history) took place when the media was beginning to give the feat a name.  Only a few weeks after the Washington Post's used "hitting for the cycle," Martin Haley of the St. Louis Globe-Democrat wrote that Herman "ran the scale" of hits while J. Roy Stockton of the rival St. Louis Post-Dispatch said he "contributed a cycle of safeties." Regardless of the final choice, "Curry" Foley, James Reilly and all who came after them would doubtless have been pleased to see their achievement finally have its own name.

By the Numbers

In one of the many Peanuts baseball related cartoons, Charlie Brown applies some Neats-foot oil to protect his glove during the winter months. It's just one example of the kind of season ending rituals that have developed over the years.  When I was a kid in the 1950s, it was supposedly vitally important to place a baseball in your glove and then secure it in the pocket throughout the off-season by putting rubber bands or string around the glove.  Supposedly this would preserve the pocket and gives us a head start on our next step to the major leagues.  None of this, of course, matters to vintage players who don't have gloves in the first place.  That doesn't mean, however, that there aren't year end tasks in vintage base ball.  Since the Neshanock, like most clubs, doesn't have a clubhouse, someone, Chris Lowry in this case, has to store the equipment we do have - bats, balls and bases.  To help share the load, I agreed to store the spare uniforms of which we, fortunately, have plenty.  Fortunately, because some 35 different players took the field for the Neshanock in 2021 including a number of new players who needed those extra shirts, pants and hats.

The reason I know the exact number of Neshanock players in 2021 is because unlike past years, I shook off procrastination long enough to compile the team's statistical totals.  That effort was made far less time consuming due to a spreadsheet created by Marcus Dickson and the Lah-de-dah Club of Michigan.  Thanks to Marcus and his team for this very helpful tool.  Below are the Neshanock's 2021 totals in a format which requires some explanation. This format was used  by Henry Chadwick in his 1865 edition Beadle's Dime Base-Ball Player which published the 1864 statistics for  teams which played under the same rules the Neshanock usually play by.  Using the second line for Danny "Lefty" Gallagher as an example, the young Neshanock played in 16 games, made 21 outs and scored 42 runs.  In order to adjust for the number of games played, averages are calculated in each category with the over column reflecting the remainder if the average wasn't an even number.  Also included are what the spreadsheet calls clean scores (the Neshanock use the term clear scores) - games where the player didn't make an out and blank scores - games where the player didn't score a run.    

Format courtesy of Marcus Dickson and the Lah-de-dah Base Ball Club

While the totals are informative, there is also some interesting information in the individual game statistics.  For example, on July 10 at New Bridge Landing, Joe "Mick" Murray accomplished a rare feat - recording a clear and blank score in the same game.  At first, I thought it had to be a mistake, but there is no reason why a player can't avoid making an out while simultaneously not scoring a run.  Part of the explanation in this case is that "Mick" only batted twice since he arrived late thanks to Ken "Tumbles" Mandel who would naturally figure in such an "achievement."  Looking at total blank scores in individual games, it's not surprising that in the Neshanock's two losses at the Gettysburg Festival, the team's strikers recorded 10 of 12 and 11 of 12 blank scores which makes it hard to win a game.  On another occasion, however, the result didn't match what the statistics might have predicted.  In a game against the Liberty Club of New Brunswick on June 19, nine of twelve Neshanock  strikers had blank scores, but Flemington won the game even though each of the three only scored once.  Three runs isn't much in a vintage base ball game, but it is enough to win when the other team only manages one tally.

This is just one illustration of how a statistical format that doesn't include defense and pitching can't provide sufficient information to evaluate player or team performance.  The emphasis on runs and outs dates back to the earliest known base ball box score (1845). Peter Morris, in his invaluable A Game of Inches, says they were used because early base ball scorekeepers drew upon cricket scoring. According to Morris, in cricket almost every hit produces at least one run so in a game where runs determines the winner, tracking hits seemed unimportant.  As competitive base ball grew in the 1850s, however, there was a desire to determine what was called the "authentic truth" about player productivity.  For many years, Henry Chadwick played a major role in developing statistical measures and the above chart is where his thinking stood in early 1865.  Like every other aspect of base ball, however, evolution was and is the order of the day and there was gradual progress throughout the nineteenth century to something closer to what we would recognize today.    

Boston Globe  - August 29, 1888

While Chadwick constantly tried to develop new and better statistical ways to find "authentic truth," even he would be overwhelmed by the vast amount of information available today beginning with just trying to understand the acronyms.  Yet even with this vast amount of data, the sad truth, at least for absolute "truth" seekers like Chadwick, is that no matter how hard we try or how sophisticated the system, there is no statistical measure or measures that completely captures player productivity. Simply put, there are just too many different ways a player can contribute to his team's success.  An excellent example is an August 28, 1888 game between the New York Giants and the Boston Beaneaters, a contest that had no impact on the pennant race nor any other special meaning.  Boston won the game 2-0 and while it can't be seen in the above box score, Mike Kelly contributed to both Boston runs without using his bat, legs or arm.  

John Clarkson 

In the top of the sixth, Boston pitcher John Clarkson tried to steal second with two out.  The Giants catcher was so surprised by the unlikely move that his throw went into centerfield.  Clarkson then tried to go to third and would have been out, had not the throw bounced off the Giants third baseman.  At that point, Kelly, who was coaching third, yelled for Clarkson to go home.  According to Globe writer Tim Murnane "it was dollars to cents that he was out, but luck was with him" and thanks to Kelly's aggressive coaching, Boston took a 1-0 lead.  Then in the top of the eighth, Boston had a runner on third with Kelly at the plate. According to Murnane, there was "a little passed ball which touched the umpire.  Kelly claimed that the man on third could come home, and Glenn was allowed to score.  It was hard luck for the Giants, but the rules allowed it."  Kelly's knowledge of the rules combined with decisive action, gave the Beaneaters an important insurance run.  Both runs were due to Kelly's "productivity," but there is no way to reflect either play in the box score or the resulting statistics.  Some parts of baseball are beyond statistical measurement and perhaps that's part of the game's enduring appeal. 

Curtain

After experiencing something less than perfect weather during August trips to Delaware and Pennsylvania, the Neshanock's return to New Jersey has been marked by weather that can only be described as, dare I say it, splendiferous! And the only thing better than beautiful weather is when it is combined with an equally splendiferous (twice in one post) venue which was the case today when the Neshanock played their final games of the season at the historic Dey Farm in Monroe Township.  Although cancelled last year for obvious reasons, this has been one of the most enjoyable events on Flemington's schedule and today was no exception.  For the first time our opponents at Dey Farm were our friends the Liberty Base Ball Club of New Brunswick.  Due to some non-baseball injuries as well as travel, Flemington was missing a number of its regulars, but were helped out by some worthy volunteers, Rocco Ciccone plus J. P. and Nick Prioli, brothers of the Neshanock's Tom "Hawk" Prioli.  Thanks to all three for enabling us to field a full team.

Historic Dey Farm - all pictures courtesy of Mark Granieri

Just as in Camden, there was a coin toss to decide who would strike first and just like in Camden, the first toss landed on its side.  The second attempt was called correctly by Neshanock field captain, Chris "Lowball" Lowry and Flemington took the field after a ceremonial first pitch by Monroe Council Vice President Elizabeth "Betty" Schneider.  The Liberty went down in order over the first two innings of the opening seven inning match while the Neshanock tallied twice in the first for an early 2-0 lead.  However, the New Brunswick team erupted for five runs in the third and led 5-4 after the Neshanock added two tallies in their half of the inning.  Flemington seemed to be scoring every other inning, adding two in the fifth for a one run lead, only to see the Liberty tie the game in the top of the sixth.  However in the bottom of the inning, the Neshanock took charge, batting around as the first eight strikers reached base.  When the dust cleared, Flemington had scored seven times and then retired the Liberty for a 13-6 first game win.  

Chris "Lowball" Lowry at the striker's line

The Neshanock's first game offense was led by "Hawk" who had four hits and earned a clear score in the process while also playing solid defense in his first time catching.  Also recording a clear score was Tom "Thumbs" Hoepfner although, as he admitted it, was no thing of beauty consisting of reaching base on two muffs, a fielder's choice and a double.  "Thumbs" also scored each of his four times on the bases although dubbing it an immaculate clear score (a new Neshanock term) seems something of a reach.  Also contributing to the attack were Joe "Mick" Murray and Mark "Gaslight" Granieri with three hits apiece while Dan "Sledge" Hammer and Nick Prioli added two each.  After a brief break, the second match got underway with the Neshanock at the striker's line where they produced one tally that the Liberty matched in the bottom of the inning.  However, the Neshanock broke the game open with five in the second and four more over the next two innings in route to a 12-4 win.  "Mick" again had three hits, this time joined by Nick (who obviously needs a nickname) and his brother "J.P."  "Sledge" had two hits as did "Thumbs."  Flemington also played good defense especially some bound out catches by Jim "Jersey" Nunn and solid play by "Gaslight" at first.

Jim "Jersey" Nunn

Saturday's games marked the end of the 2021 season, a very different kind of season, but one far better than 2020 when we didn't get on the field at all.  As usual the end the season means it's time to say thank you to many people beginning with our founder, Brad "Brooklyn" Shaw.  Having taken on some, but far from all, of "Brooklyn's" responsibilities over the past few years, I have a much better understanding of all the work involved beyond just playing games.  We're glad "Brooklyn" rejoined us a few times in 2021 and hope he's back in 2022.  I'm especially grateful for the continuing contributions of Chris "Lowball" Lowry, our field captain, always a calming presence, at least compared to me.  Almost all decisions are a collaboration between the two of us and it's a pleasure to work with him.  Thanks also to everyone who played for the Neshanock during the 2021 season, regardless of how many games you played and whether you are a regular member or a volunteer who filled in when needed.  We would love to have all of you back in 2022, again regardless of how often you play.

Lawrence Major - founder and captain of the Liberty Club of New Brunswick

Just fielding a team can be a difficult, but it takes a lot more to play a game.  The first requirement is an opponent, something that never should be taken for granted.  Like the Neshanock, I suspect most vintage teams struggled at some point in 2021 to put a full team on the field.  We're grateful, therefore, for all the teams we met along the way no matter how many times we played.  That also to applies to what we call "town" teams, squads put together for just one game in their local community.  For years, the Strakes of Newtown, Pennsylvania have been one of Flemington's toughest opponents, joined this year by the Nutley Colonels and Enterprise Club of New Bridge. We appreciate their willingness to play a game at which they have little experience.  After finding an opponent, the next requirement is a place to play. Since the Neshanock don't have a home field, that means we're dependent on places like Monroe Township to host games.  We are thankful for that hospitality and crowds that sometimes number in hundreds, no small accomplishment for what is truly amateur base ball. 

Dan "Sledge" Hammer

Another underappreciated group in vintage base ball is the umpires.  For years the Neshanock were fortunate enough to be able to count on Sam "It ain't nothing 'til I say" Bernstein.  Sam is now enjoying a well deserved retirement, but he graciously came back to help us out twice which was greatly appreciated.  On numerous occasions this year we had to rely on "self-umpiring" where players take turns at the job - thanks to everyone who took on a task that's easy, until it isn't. Most important of all, everyone on the Neshanock are especially grateful to family and friends who attend our games sometimes in less than perfect conditions and with no small amount of travel.  My intent was to name names, but I know I would forget someone.  So to all the spouses, partners, significant others, girl friends, parents, children and family members a heartfelt thank you for your support.  Lastly, a special personal thank you to  Mark "Gaslight" Granieri for once again serving as official blog photographer and also to Lauren Marchese Nunn who provided valuable depth at that position.

See you again in 2022

After the traditional post-game speeches, the Neshanock and their families said farewell and exchanged best wishes for the long off-season.  It was reminiscent of a similar scene almost two years ago in Newark, Delaware at the end of the 2019 season.  No one at that point thought for a moment that there wouldn't be a 2020 season as sadly turned out to be the case.  There's a cliché to the effect that we don't appreciate something until we lose it and while I know everyone on the Neshanock has valued what we do, it's safe to say missing an entire season increased our appreciation for being part of vintage base ball even more. In an earlier post, I looked at base ball a 100 years ago and noted that there are far fewer opportunities for direct participation in the game today which to me is a real loss.  Vintage base ball is one of those opportunities which has helped all of us to stay involved in the game we love.  The Neshanock roster ranges from college students to those eligible for social security, not to mention an almost 75 year old scorekeeper.  Yet no matter our age, vintage base ball is a way to stay involved.  Having lost an entire season that can never be replaced, the best way to conclude the 2021 season is with gratitude for being in uniform once more and never ever taking it for granted.  

Camden Town (Ball)

After playing outside the state in August, the Neshanock returned to New Jersey on Saturday for a match in Camden, just across the Delaware River from Philadelphia.  The game with the Athletic Club of Philadelphia was a late addition to the schedule, to support the Camden Historical Society's reopening which included some new exhibits including one on the Negro Leagues.  We were glad to be part of this event which couldn't have taken place on a nicer day.  The Athletics went first to the striker's line and quickly put their first two men on base.   Unfortunately for the Philadelphia club, the next striker hit a pop fly to Neshanock pitcher Dan "Sledge" Hammer which allowed Flemington to take advantage of the lack of an infield fly rule in 1864.  After letting the ball bounce twice, "Sledge" threw to Joe "Mick" Murray at third for one out and "Mick" completed the double play by throwing to Chris "Low Ball" Lowry at second.  Flemington retired the next batter and, after a promising start, the Athletics failed to tally in the top of the first.

Chris "Sideshow" Nunn catches a pitch while Carol Zinn (far right) looks on.  All color photos by Mark "Gaslight" Granieri

When the Neshanock came to the striker's line, it didn't take long to see it was going to be a big day for the Flemington offense.  Fourteen men came to bat and when the dust cleared, Flemington had tallied nine times.  In the end the offensive output proved to be not just productive, but historic as Flemington's 49 runs shattered the previous high of 35 set on two occasions at the Gettysburg Festival.  Such offensive outbursts may seem unusual today, but there is no lack of historical precedent such as the below box score of an 1860s game where the original Athletics Club more than doubled the Neshanock's 2021 output. Needless to say there was no shortage of good individual performance beginning with "Sledge" who had a seven hit clear score including two home runs in the same inning doubtless also a Flemington record.  "Sledge" also scored all seven times he reached base producing what for the lack of a better term we're calling an immaculate clear score.  Not far behind were Tom "Thumbs" Hoepfner and Jim "Jersey" Nunn with six hits apiece while Chris "Sideshow" Nunn, Danny "Lefty" Gallagher, Rene "Mango" Marrero, Mark "Gaslight" Granieri and Tom "Hawk" Prioli chipped in five hits apiece.  

"Lefty's" day included two home runs, combining for back-to-back circuit shots with "Sledge" in the fourth. "Lefty" also hit for the cycle, that is hitting, a single, double, triple and home run in the same game, not necessarily in that order. Like runs-batted-in, the term wasn't used in the 1860s, but we'll make an exception in this case.  "Hawk's" performance earned him Flemington's second clear score of the day.  Also contributing were "Mick" and "Low Ball" with four hit games while Jeff "Duke" Schneider and Rob Colon had three hits each.  It was Rob's first game with the Neshanock and we hope he will become a regular member of the club.  The 49-5 victory brings Flemington's overall record to 13-9 with just one date left to play.  Originally the Neshanock were to make their annual visit to historic Cameron Field in South Orange on Saturday, September 18th, but flood damage from tropical storm Ida has forced the cancellation of the game.  As a result, Flemington will bring down the curtain on the 2021 season on Saturday, September 25th at the Dey Farm in Monroe Township against the Liberty Club of New Brunswick.   

Rene "Mango" Marrero pitches while Jeff "Duke" Schneider looks on with anticipation

Playing Saturday's game by 1864 rules was appropriate since Camden's first base ball team got started that same year almost a decade after the first New Jersey teams took the field.  While that may seem on the late side, it wasn't because local youth had an aversion to bat and ball games.  Rather, it was because teams in neighboring Philadelphia played a very different game known today as Philadelphia town ball.  Town ball is a catch-all term used to describe a wide range of bat and ball games that aren't base ball.  Fortunately, thanks to a critical mass of surviving source material and the work of historian Richard Hershberger, the game played in the City of Brotherly Love is understood well enough to be identified as the Philadelphia version of town ball.  Back in 2014, as part of the Gettysburg Festival, the Athletic Club (Saturday's opponent) recreated the game which is vastly different from base ball.  Just a few of the differences include no foul territory, eleven on a side and bases in a circle about 20 feet apart.

Dan "Sledge" Hammer about to strike one of his seven hits while Tom "Thumbs" Hoepfner waits his turn at the line.

As significant as these differences are, they pale in comparison with Philadelphia town ball's most distinctive feature.  Every at bat has only two possible outcomes - a home run or an out.  Young men in Philadelphia organized town ball clubs in the early 1830s and it's no surprise the game gradually moved across the Delaware River, leading to the formation of the Camden Club in 1857.  Camden, however, didn't become the Hoboken of Philadelphia town ball.  Comprehensive research in contemporary south Jersey newspapers has failed to uncover a single instance of another club other than the Camden team.  Part of the failure of the Philadelphia game to spread is the southern part of the state lacked the population density and mobile society of north Jersey that greatly facilitated the spread of base ball north of Trenton.  But having watched Philadelphia town ball being played, it seems to me that there was another major factor - there's not a lot of strategy to a game where each at bat has only two possible outcomes and, therefore, not much reason to be interested in the game.  Baseball, on the other hand, has so many possibilities that the strategic alternatives sometimes seem unlimited.

Camden's Weston Fisler as a member of the Athletic Club of Philadelphia

It's no surprise, therefore, that in the early 1860s, the Philadelphia clubs gradually converted to base ball, followed by the Camden Club in 1864.  The Camden players, or at least one of them, Weston Fisler, adapted relatively quickly.  After starting with the Camden Club, Fisler joined the Athletic Club of Philadelphia when it was one of the top teams of the 1860s.  He stayed with the Athletics throughout their years in the National Association and then as a charter member of the National League in 1876.  Fishler complied a .310 lifetime batting average in the two professional leagues while earning the nickname "Icicle," because he was so "cool and collected" in all circumstances.  In his last season the Camden product not only played in the first National League game, he has the distinction of scoring the first earned run in league history.  Clearly playing another, very different game first, didn't hold Fisler back from being the first, but certainly not the last, New Jersey player to enjoy success at the professional level.

Weekend in Rochester

While the Neshanock didn't have great depth on the field at the National Silver Ball tournament, there was no shortage of talent behind the camera.  What follows is a photographic essay on the games at Genesee Country Village and Museum, courtesy of Lauren Marchese Nunn Optimum Photography - all rights reserved.  Click on the photos to enlarge.

With the bat rack in place, the stage is set for the 9:00 a.m. Saturday morning contest with the Live Oak Club

Tom "Thumbs" Hoepfner prepares for his turn at strikers line

Dave "Illinois" Harris strikes 

and Jim "Jersey" Nunn runs

while Danny "Lefty" Gallagher sprints.

Brad "Brooklyn" Shaw literally puts bat on ball against the Spring Creek Club

Dan "Sledge" Hammer's throw forces a Spring Creek runner at second

Jeff "Duke" Schneider contemplates a fair/foul attempt

Chris "Sideshow" Nunn scores on a close play at home against the Victory BBC

One of vintage baseball's most entertaining moments - Mark "Gaslight" Granieri on the base paths

After another blank score, the Neshanock defense leaves the field, left to right - "Sideshow, "Thumbs," "Lefty" and Gregg "Burner" Wiseburn

Early Sunday morning - "Gaslight" strikes against the Flower City Club

Chris "Low Ball" Lowry at the striker's line

Old men on the Neshanock bench - "for wisdom cries out in the streets and no man regards it."

Charlie Hoepfner leads the Neshanock in "Three cheers and a tiger."

One last time together after a truly splendiferous weekend