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.
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.
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