Big Jim Weaver: Unlucky Hurler Missed Three Flags by a Year

Editor’s note: Most record books show Jim Weaver was born in Fulton, Ky. Years ago in filling out questionnaires, Jim himself wrote “Fulton, Ky.,” in the space reserved for place of birth. However, his son Ray possesses a document from the U.S. Department of Commerce which lists Jim’s birthplace as Obion County, Tenn., which happens to be the county in which the Tennessee portion of the city of Fulton is located.

Jim Weaver was one of the biggest men ever to toe the pitching rubber in the major leagues. The righthander stood just a deep breath under six feet, seven inches and weighed 235 pounds. In a career that spanned the Depression years of the 1930s he never experienced a losing season in his eight years in the Big Time, fashioning a lifetime 57-36 record.

In December of 1981, in what was to be the last interview that he would grant, it was my pleasure to talk to Jim at his home in Lakeland, Fla. Looking back over nearly eight decades, he shared his memories.

“I was born November 25, 1903,” he began. “Born and raised on a farm about six miles south of Fulton, down in Tennessee. Fulton sits on the Kentucky-Tennessee state line, which runs right through the middle of town.

“I was on the Tennessee side of the border,” Jim laughed. “I grew up in that area. There’s a school in South Fulton which is in Tennessee and a school in North Fulton which is in Kentucky. I went to South Fulton. It was a small high school and I played what sports we had. I played football and basketball, but I liked baseball the best.

“Later I went to Western Kentucky State University in Bowling Green, Ky., on a dual scholarship. I was on a football and baseball contract. In the spring we would play a lot of those college teams from up north that took southern trips, and they’d come down and play on a Friday and a Saturday. Well, I would pitch on a Friday a lot of times, and I’d play first base on Saturday and if a pitcher got in trouble I would relieve him.”

Jim was only 19 when he got started in professional baseball. Breaking in with his home-town Fulton team in the Kitty League in 1923, he did well enough that the Kansas City Blues of the American Association bought him in August. He was assigned to Bartlesville the next spring, but then dropped out of Organized Baseball to return to school.

During the summers he played for a company-sponsored team in the asphalt mining town of Kyrock, Ky., “way back up in the hills.” He was given a job there and on days when he wasn’t playing ball he had to work to earn the $4 per day that he was paid. His brother Bob, who played in the minors briefly, was his catcher.

In April 1927 Jim was married. Later that year he signed with Chattanooga of the Southern Association. “I guess it was about March of 1928 that the Washington Senators bought my contract,” he said, “and I went up with them for a short time. I had kind of a hard time getting started. The Senators farmed me out the next year to Birmingham. I didn’t stick with Birmingham, and they sent me to New Haven in the Eastern League. I don’t remember what the record was, but I had a pretty good year there. [He was 14-5 while working in 32 games.] That fall Washington traded me to Baltimore for an outfielder named Lopez, and then the next year, 1930, I had a great season with Baltimore. I won 19 and lost nine or ten, something like that. [Actually his record was 19-11.]

“Then the next year the Yankees bought me from Baltimore, and I stayed most of 1931 with the Yankees.”

As a 27-year-old rookie with the Yankees, Jim filled in when and where he was needed, winning two of his three decisions. “I didn’t do a lot of pitching that year,” he recalled. “I was just a rookie, and they had Pennock, Ruffing, Gomez, George Pipgras, and oh, what a team! Ruth and Gehrig, great guys both of them. They didn’t come any finer. And Lazzeri, Combs, Dickey, Chapman, Sewell. We were in the pennant race up until near the end of the season. The A’s were a powerhouse at that time. I pitched against most all of the teams, relieving, and in and out.”

The Yankees won the pennant the following year, 1932, the first pennant that Jim missed by a single season. He still recalled the circumstances and aftermath.

“They sent me over to Newark in the International League,” he explained. “I stayed there two years, 1932 and 1933. I don’t exactly know why they sent me there, frankly. I thought I performed better than that.”

With Newark Weaver racked up a 15-6 record in 1932. The following season, working 268 innings in 49 games, he won 25 games while losing 11.

“At the end of 1933 they [the parent Yankeees] sold me to the St. Louis Browns,” Jim continued. “The Browns later returned me to Newark, and then the Chicago Cubs took me and that’s when I got started. It all happened within a few hours.”

Newspaper accounts reveal the Yankees and Browns agreed on a $15,000 purchase price for Weaver, with the Browns shelling out $2,500 for an option. However, in mid-May of 1934, the financially strapped St. Louis club returned Weaver to Newark, and the Cubs immediately paid the $12,500 still due to acquire him.

This time he was in the majors to stay. One game that year stuck in his memory. “When I first joined the Cubs in 1934, there was one outstanding game that I pitched,” he remembered, “I beat the St. Louis Cardinals, 1-0, in St. Louis. I don’t remember how many hits I gave up, but it was the first time they had been shut out in a long time. They had an outstanding ball club. I was always kind of proud of that one.”

The big righthander had reason to be proud. The game was played on Thursday, June 7, in St. Louis. The newspapers headlined “Cubs Blank Cards as Weaver Stars,” with the accompanying game description reading:

Big Jim Weaver, recently picked up by the Cubs when the Browns turned him back to Newark, pitched shutout ball today as Chicago won the series final from the Cardinals, 1-0, and made it two out of three for the series.

Weaver had the situation under control throughout, none of the seven hits he gave being good enough for more than one base. He fanned eight.

Jim was playing for his favorite manager, Charlie Grimm, and that day had good support from the cast of regulars. In addition to player-manager Grimm, the Cubs’ lineup sparkled with names like Gabby Hartnett, Kiki Cuyler, Chuck Klein, Stan Hack, Billy Herman and Babe Herman.

Discussing his 1934 Cub teammates, Weaver said: “Gabby [Hartnett] was a great handler of pitchers. I wouldn’t want to compare him and Dickey. I don’t think I would want to make a choice between the two.

“Cuyler was a perfectionist. He was a stylist. Everything he did had a style to it, even his running. He was real fast.

“Chuck [Klein] was a good ball player, but he wasn’t fast. If he’d had a little more speed, he’d have been great. He was a good hitter, a power hitter.

“Hack didn’t have much power, but he was a good ball player.”

Of the two Hermans, Jim regarded Billy as a good player and said Babe was not as bad an outfielder as others said he was. “He was awkward and stumbled around a lot, but Babe made some pretty good catches,” Weaver commented. “I don’t think he was the worst in the world. As a matter of fact, I don’t think he was as bad as they’d write him up. He was a good hitter.”

The Cubs finished a strong third behind the Cards and Giants, but with Lon Warneke, Bill Lee, Charlie Root and some fine pitching depth returning it was time for Jim to move on despite his 11-9 record. In November he was traded to the Pirates along with Guy Bush and Babe Herman in exchange for Larry French and Fred Lindstrom. Ironically, the Cubs went on to win the 1935 pennant, making it the second flag that Jim missed by a single season.

With Pittsburgh he was 14-8 in both 1935 and ’36 for his two best years in the majors. “I would argue on that,” Weaver said in retrospect. “I think the records are a couple of games short because I’ve always been under the impression, even at the time that I quit, that it was 16 and 8. I thought I had 16 wins two years in a row, but maybe they’re taking a little off for interest,” he added with a laugh.

Jim’s teammates on the Pirates included several all-time greats. In 1935 Arky Vaughan led the league with a .385 batting average. Jim remembered the man as well as the ball player: “Arky Vaughan was an all-around nice fellow. A real quiet man, he was soft spoken and a great family man. When we were at home, he spent most of his time with his wife and little girl. I liked him very much and he was the kind you like to be friends with. He was one of my favorite ball players in the league at that time. Arky was a good hitter and I don’t think there was any better fielder than he was.”

Vaughan’s batting championship was sandwiched between two titles won by teammate Paul Waner, who led the league in 1934 and 1936 with averages of .362 and .373, respectively. Paul and his younger brother, Lloyd were dubbed “Big Poison” and “Little Poison” by the media. “I knew the Waners pretty well,” Jim reflected. “They were in a class to themselves.

“I guess a relief pitcher named Mace Brown was the best friend I had. He’s a country boy from Iowa and he’s just as plain as an old shoe, just an all-around good guy. He and I roomed together for three years at Pittsburgh. Mace had a good overhand curve. He’s a guy you could sit in your room with at night and just talk about anything and everything in general. He was pretty well educated and a very plain type person. That was during the Depression. You won’t believe it, but my top salary was $8,500. I believe it was in 1935, ’36 and ’37 that I made that.”

To supplement his baseball income Jim would occasionally barnstorm at the end of the regular season. “A fellow named Ray Doane used to get up barnstorming trips for a couple weeks after the season,” Weaver recalled. “But nothing to speak of, nothing of any consequence. We didn’t make much money.

“Frisch, Durocher and Mize were some of the players that I barnstormed with. Mize was a very good hitter. We barnstormed together a lot. We went out through the Midwest and played town teams. We very seldom played against black teams. Well, I pitched a few games in Cincinnati when I got back home since my home town, Covington, Ky., was just across the river from Cincinnati. There was a fellow named Jimmy Shevlin who brought in those top colored teams. We played against the Homestead Grays a couple of times.

“I remember Josh Gibson. He was a good hitter. I barnstormed against teams that Satchel Paige was on. He could really throw that ball. I remember one of the best shortstops I ever saw in my life was with the Kansas City Monarchs. They were in that Negro League and they had a guy who was a great fielder. There wasn’t much thought given about it [playing blacks]. It was just accepted the way it was and there was no outward display of any kind. As a matter of fact, I don’t remember anything hardly ever being said about it because at that time there was nothing thought of it. Sure, we played our best in the exhibitions. I think every ball player does. If you’re a pitcher, you’re trying to get as many men out as you can. Every man that walks up to that plate, you try to get him out and every hitter tries to get hits.

“I was a fastball pitcher. I didn’t have a good curve, but I don’t know why. I worked on it a lot, but I never was able to develop a good curve. I couldn’t coordinate the snap of the wrist that it took to put the right kind of a spin on the ball to have a good curve ball and still have the speed. I just wasn’t able to do it for some reason. I had pretty good control. Bases on balls never hurt me that much.

“In order to win, you’ve got to have a breaking ball to go with a fasthall. And I developed a forkball which acted like a dry spitball. It would go in there and half float and half spin and get up there and take a dip down. I ran on the thing by accident, and after I saw it, I tried it one day and it worked pretty good. I kept after it and it turned out and so I just used that then for my breaking ball, and I used my curve ball for a change of pace. I guess I was the first or second to use the forkball in the major leagues to any extent.

“I went from the Pirates to the Browns [early in 1938]. I don’t remember exactly how that happened. I was with the Browns a couple of times. Just short stays. And, of course, St. Louis was pretty short on money back in those days. I wasn’t getting any of it. You know how losing ball clubs ‘juggle around.’ “

Jim went from the Browns to the Reds early in the 1938 season. His catcher there was Ernie Lombardi. “Lom did all right,” he remembered. “He was a little awkward to be as big as he was, and I guess you’d say clumsy. He would have hit .400 if he had speed.”

While with the Reds that year, Jim witnessed baseball history being made. The recollection remained vivid: “I saw Vander Meer pitch his two no-hit games. There were a couple of fantastic defensive plays made for him. They weren’t circus catches or anything like that, but they played good ball behind him. I think he’ll admit that.”

Jim returned to the Reds the following spring but pitched only three innings in the regular season. “I thought I was pitching good relief ball with the Reds at the time,” he explained. “As a matter of fact, Bill McKechnie told a Boston writer that he had two of the best relief pitchers in the National League in Jim Weaver and Peaches Davis. But in about three days we were both gone.”

The Reds won the pennant that year and the next as well, marking the third time that Weaver missed out on a pennant by a single season. But Jim wasn’t bothered by another near miss. Forty years later he dismissed the idea, saying: “Hell, I missed three pennants by one year. So I got used to it.”

Meanwhile, Jim returned to the minors. He pitched for Louisville in the American Association in 1940 and 1941, but didn’t pitch any more after World War Il started.

For a number of years after retiring from the game, Weaver was athletic director and baseball coach at the Kentucky State Reformatory in LaGrange. Later he worked as a probation officer for the Kentucky Department of Correction for 15 years. He enjoyed rehabilitation work with young boys.

Jim and his wife, Ruth, reared three sons, Kenneth, Ray and Lloyd. Each became successful in his chosen field. With the children grown and on their own, the Weavers moved to Florida in 1977. He didn’t like the Sunshine State as much as the mountains back home, but explained his decision to move thus: “We visited down here one Christmas and we liked it, so when my wife and I retired we moved here for various reasons. I’m not very smart, but I’m smart enough to know I could never take that snow and ice.”

After retiring, Jim lost contact with the sport he played so well. “I don’t keep up with baseball any more,’ ” he said. “As a matter of fact, I’m not really interested in it. I think that baseball in general has become ridiculous. The high salaries are one of the things that I’m talking about; they’re absolutely ridiculous. We went through the rough days. It was rough during the Depression. I missed the pension fund by two or three years, I think. I was told that when they tried to grandfather us older fellows in on a percentage basis that it was killed.”

In his advanced age Jim suffered from an assortment of ailments, including hydrocephalus (an accumulation of fluid on the brain which sometimes causes lapses in memory), arthritis, bleeding ulcers and a fractured vertebra. On December 12, 1983, shortly past his eightieth birthday, the gentle giant found peace from his pain. The official cause of death was recorded as emphysema and a heart attack.

Jim Weaver was a proud man with an independence characteristic of people from the geographic region of his roots. He asked nothing from anyone. He lived a full and productive life and voiced no regrets. Our National Pastime needs to remember players like Jim Weaver.