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.