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!