Willie Mays smiles during the spring of 1951 shortly before his call-up to the major leagues. After hitting .353 with four home runs in his first season with the Class B Trenton Giants in 1950, he was batting .477 with the Minneapolis Millers in the first month of the 1951 season when he was called up to the New York Giants for good. (MINNEAPOLIS PUBLIC LIBRARY)

“The first time I saw Willie Mays in the outfield, I knew he had the greatest throwing arm that I would ever see.” These were the words of Maurice (Mo) Cunningham, a hard-hitting minor league outfielder some 20 years ago. “His accuracy was the big thing,” recalls Cunningham. “A lot of players throw hard, but he never was more than a foot off the base.”

Cunningham was the center fielder on the Trenton Giants, a New York Giant farm team in the Class B Inter State League at the outset of the 1950 season. On June 24, a new player, 19-year-old outfielder Willie Mays joined the club in Hagerstown, Md., and was immediately inserted in center field by Manager Chic Genovese.

In his first game in organized ball, Mays went hitless, but exhibited exceptional speed and an excellent throwing arm. Two nights later, Mays played his first game in Trenton, rapping out two hits in helping defeat York, 4-3. What dazzled the 1,321 spectators, however, was Willie’s play in the field.

Three of his five putouts were remarkable catches, with throws to third base and home plate illustrating his exceptional throwing arm. In the third inning, he sped backward and leaped high enough to spear a long fly with his bare hand, much to the amazement of the onlookers. It was quickly realized that an unusually gifted player had joined the Trenton team.

Although his first season was spectacular in several phases of baseball, Mays showed very little power, connecting only four times for home runs. His first was hit on June 28 in Sunbury, Pa., a grand slam in a 21-8 win.

“He wasn’t a vicious hitter then,” says Cunningham, who moved over to left field when Mays joined the team. “He was still a boy and didn’t have a man’s muscular development.”

Cunningham also recalls that he and Mays were taught together the basket catch that year by Genovese and Mays quickly became adept at it.

Another teammate of Mays in 1950 was Len Matte, a catcher. “Mays had the tools then, no question about it,” recalls Matte. “He showed us right away that he had the instinct to take off as soon as the ball was hit and just keep running until he caught it. Very few in the majors can do that.”

“We all wondered, however, if he could hit,” added Matte. “When he first joined our club, Willie didn’t look too good at bat.  He wasn’t pulling the ball and was hitting to right field a lot. He hit mostly singles and doubles then. He was a skinny kid and weighed only about 160 pounds. You must also remember that the Inter State League had some of the biggest ball parks in the country, 350 feet down the line and eight-foot walls.”

Bill Forst, a right-handed pitcher for the Lancaster Red Roses, the Brooklyn Dodger farm team in the league back in 1950, says “Mays was green, but had a fine arm and could run. I had little trouble with him, however, and he didn’t do much against our team. He was afraid of the sidearm fastball. I’d brush him back and then keep the pitches away from him. I was really surprised when Mays started hitting all those home runs in the big leagues. Cunningham was a much more fearsome batter in 1950.”

During the 1950 season, Mays appeared in 81 games, batting at a .353 clip. One interesting side note of Mays’ season at Trenton is that he might have become a pitcher. When the Giants signed him, they felt that if he didn’t hit, he might make it on the mound with his excellent arm. Mays, however, was never given the opportunity to exhibit his ability as a pitcher. He was too busy becoming one of the all-time great outfielders.

Below is Willie Mays’ complete batting record and fielding record in his first season in the minor leagues.

G         AB      R         H         2B       3B       HR      SH       SB       BB       HP       RBI     SO       PCT.

81        306      50        108      20        8          4          2          7          42         4         55        34         .353

Fielding  (Outfielder) –          

G         PO       A         E          DP       PCT.

81        216      17        5          5   .      979

And it’s the Babe blasting one into outer space.

It’s the banker sitting next to the guy without a job,

And it’s the base-stealing exploits of Tyrus R. Cobb.

It’s the venders hawking scorecards, peanuts and ale,

And it’s Landis, the Czar, with his chin on the rail.

It’s pilots like Huggins, Mack, and Old Case,

And it’s a boner by Merkle, who skipped second base.

It’s Billy Sunday, from sinner to saint,

And it’s Willie Keeler, who hit where they ain’t.

It’s writers like Lardner, Rice and Runyon,

And its Wagner at bat, resembling Paul Bunyan,

It’s a crestfallen guy called Shoeless Joe,

And it’s the kid who pleaded “Say it ain’t so.”

It’s opening day with the President in the park,

And it’s a homer by Hartnett, hit in the dark.

It’s nicknames like Dizzy and Dazzy, Pee Wee and Pants,

And it’s a double play by Tinker to Evers to Chance.

It’s the ornery cussing of Muggsy McGraw,

And the quiet temperance of Vernon Law.

It’s the pursuit of an asterisk by Mantle and Mans,

And it’s the Mats’ Boy Wonders, Cronin and Harris.

It’s the Giants Mathewson, who seldom would lose,

And it’s Taylor Spink and The Sporting News.

It’s the prayers for a pennant by a Brooklyn parson,

And a Series no-hitter by a guy named Larsen.

It’s the girl in the bleachers acquiring a tan,

And the hula-wiggle stance of Stan The Man.

It’s the training camps and the coming of spring,

And it’s Mr. Roberts, the first Robin of fling.

It’s the aroma of hot dogs, plain or kosher,

And it’s umpire-baiting by Leo Durocher.

It’s the blast by Thomson, with its thrills galore,

And it’s the 26-inning duel of Oeschger and Cadore.

It’s the pennant winner and the team in the cellar,

And it’s the blazing fastball of Bobby Feller.

It’s Hornsby, the Rajah, so brazen and bold,

And it’s Billy Martin, still knocking `em cold.

It’s Doubleday, Cooperstown and the Hall of Fame,

And it’s the band playing, Take Me Out To The Ball Game.

It’s the little leaguer and the kids at stick ball,

It’s rain checks, bubblegum cards, and most of all…

It’s America. Yes, BASEBALL IS AMERICA.

    If Joe Tinker had decided to stay in Kansas instead of playing professional ball, Christy Mathewson would have been a still greater hero.  Joe has spoiled many a record for the great New York twirler, probably more than any other three clouters in the National League.  Matty would rather pitch a game against a whole team of Wagners than against the Cubs with Tinker in the lineup.

How was it that a .262 lifetime batter remembered chiefly for his fielding ability could seemingly hit so well against a pitching genius who won 373 games, posting 20 or more victories 13 times?  Or was Tinker’s alleged ability to hit Mathewson really more of a legend than fact?  Matty himself explained it this way in Pearson’s Magazine of May 1911:

    Joe Tinker, the clever little shortstop of the Chicago club, is a man with whom I have fought many battles of wits, and I am glad to acknowledge that he has come out of the fuss with flying colors on many occasions.  There was a time when Tinker was putty in my hands.  For two years he was the least dangerous man on the Chicago team.  His weakness was a low curve on the outside, and I fed him low curves so often that I had him looking like an invalid every time he came to the plate.  Then Joseph went home one night and did a little deep thinking.  He got a nice long bat and took his stand at least a foot farther from the plate, and then he had me.   If I kept the ball on the inside edge of the plate he was in a splendid position to meet it, and if I tried to keep my offerings on the outside, he had plenty of time to `step into `em.’   From that day on, Tinker became one of the most dangerous batters I have ever faced, not because his natural hitting ability had increased, but because he didn’t propose to let the pitcher do all the `out-guessing.’

Research into the subject tends to bear out the accuracy of Matty’s contention, as well as providing beneficial insight into what was probably the best-known pitcher versus batter rivalry of the pre-World War I era.

Joe Tinker joined the Cubs, at that time still more commonly known as the “Colts”, at the start of the 1902 season, at which time Christy Mathewson was beginning his second full season with the Giants, three months before the arrival of John McGraw.  The two first played opposite each other on May 7 of that year, in a game at Chicago.   In three at bats before the “Big Six”, Tinker made one single which did not figure in the scoring.   The iron-armed Jack Taylor over-powered the Giants 4-0 in a game which was later invalidated after league officials upheld a Giant protest that Taylor had been pitching from in front of the rubber.

During the Chicago shortstop’s first four years in the National League, the New York ace was more often than not in command of the situation.   By 1904 the Giants had become the moat powerful club in the league and the Cubs their primary rival.  It was at this time, also, that Christy’s mastery over Tinker reached its peak, as the latter scraped out but two hits in 30 times at bat against him in 1904, and none in 16 tries the following year.   On June 13, 1905, Matty no-hit the Cubs, Tinker included, by a 1-0 score over Mordecai Brown.

In 1906, however, the pendulum began to swing in the other direction and fortunes improved not only for the Cubs but for Tinker as well.   By this tine the Cubs, under Frank Chance, had put together a juggernaut which even McGraw’s mighty New Yorkers could not stop as the lean and hungry westerners rang up a record 116 wins, leaving the Giants 20 games behind in second place.  But even more humiliating to John McGraw was the fact the Chicago team had taken 15 of 21 decisions against “his boys”, Tinker’s .400 batting average against Mathewson being no small factor in the record.    During an 11-run Cub first inning on June 7, 1906, it was Joe’s double which sent Matty to the earliest shower of his career, as Chicago went on to humble New York by a 19-0 score.

The next season witnessed much of the same thing as Tinker knocked Matty’s curves for a .364 pace as Chicago took its second flag in succession.   This time the Cubs pushed the Giants to third place in the standings, whipping them in 16 of the 22 season contests.    Only once that year could Mathewson hold Tinker completely at bay.  That was on July 20,  1907, when he edged the Cubs 1-0 on a sparkling three-hitter,  the shortstop going hitless in three trips to the plate.

In the meantime, Mathewson had also developed a going rivalry with Cub pitcher Mordecai Brown, this coming as an inevitable offshoot of the Cub-Giant struggle for supremacy during these years.   Many of their confrontations became classics among ballfield dramas in which, needless to say, Tinker played many a vital supporting role.   One of the finest of these (from Tinker’s standpoint at least) occurred at Chicago’s West Side park on July 17, 1908, the year in which both Brown and Mathewson reached their top effectiveness.   In this contest the Cubs’ three-fingered genius shut out the Giants 1-0 on six scattered safeties while Matty, who allowed only 7 hits to the Cubs, made but one mistake, that coming in the fifth inning when he served s soft one to Tinker. He promptly walloped it out to centerfield for an inside-the-park home run, beating Cy Seymour’s throw to the plate.

The hectic 1908 pennant race, of course, is a story in itself.   Every school kid knows how, in the ninth inning of the September 23 Cub-Giant contest, Fred Merkle’s failure to touch second base as Moose McCormick crossed the plate on Art Devlin’s single deprived the Giants of an apparent 2-1 victory as Cub second baseman Johnny Evers, having retrieved the ball hit by Devlin (or one just as good, anyway), tagged second base to force Merkle (who had long since headed for the Giants’ clubhouse) and end the inning.   By this time, however, it was impossible to continue playing as an angry Polo Grounds mob had swarmed the field, ready to hang Evers and umpire Hank O’Day to the nearest lamppost.   The game was ultimately ruled a 1-1 draw, to be replayed later if it were to be a determining factor in the outcome of the pennant race.

The event mentioned above, of course, is common knowledge.   What is not generally remembered, however, is that Tinker’s fifth inning home run off Matty had given Chicago its only run.  Had it not been for this blast, the game may well have ended in a 1-0 New York victory.

Came October 8, 1908.   By this time Pittsburgh had been eliminated from the race, while Chicago and New York had finished the season in a dead tie, necessitating the replay of the tied game in what was, in effect, baseball’s first pennant play-off.   Once again the scene was the Polo Grounds and once again John McGraw gave the pitching assignment to Christy, hoping that he could at last shake the Tinker jinx and re-capture the championship and all its glory for New York.  But such was not to be the case.

The affair began well enough for the Giants, McGraw’s men taking a 1-0 lead in the bottom of the first inning.  But Matty could hold it only until the third frame, when with one away, Tinker smashed one of his fastballs to centerfield for s triple.  The Cubs rallied, of course, and the rest is history as Chicago won the game 4-2, and the pennant along with it, thanks in no small part to Tinker’s timely drive.

As the years went on, Tinker continued to use Matty for a clay pigeon, hitting him for a .556 average in 1910 as the Cubs snatched up their fourth pennant in five years.  But, perhaps ironically, Joe was not to enjoy his most productive day against Christy until 1911, by which time the Cubs, their brilliance beginning to tarnish with age, dropped to second place as the Giants, with a young and speedy squad, brought New York its first flag in six years.

But the Giants’ monumental drive meant nothing to Tinker when they pulled into Chicago on August 7, 1911.  On that long since forgotten afternoon, Tinker, in four times at bat, singled twice, doubled and tripled, driving in four runs and scoring three as the Cubs beat Matty 8-6.  To pile insult upon injury, he stole home once and executed two double plays, the Chicago Tribune commenting the following morning that “Tinker broke all his own records for breaking up games with New York. . .”  Incidentally the winning Cub pitcher was Matty’s other greet rival, Mordecai Brown.

Thereafter, however, the feud became more or less anti-climactic.  By 1913 the Giants were on their way to their third consecutive league championship and Mathewson on his way to his 11th straight 20-game winning season.  Tinker, by now, was player-manager of the then hapless Cincinnati Reds, having been traded to that club during the previous winter.  In a new uniform, Joe still hit Matty as if he owned him, but even Tinker’s bat could not prevent him from taking five out of five against the Reds that season.

By going undefeated against Tinker’s Reds in 1913, the Bucknell University gentleman had, in one sense at least, gained a bit of revenge against the Kansas farm boy who had so often befuddled him, for they were never to face each other as pitcher and batter thereafter.  Jumping to the Chicago Whales of the Federal League the following year, Tinker managed and played shortstop (his Whales finishing second and first in 1914 and 1915, respectively.  But his first season with the Whales was to be his last as a regular, his playing ability never fully returning after he suffered a broken rib.  In the meantime, Mathewson, after winning 24 games in 1914, fell to 7-15 the next season.   His star too, was beginning to set.

By 1916 Tinker, at age 36, was back with the Cubs as player-manager while Matty, also 36, had been traded to his one-time patsies, the Reds.  Three-Finger Brown, like Tinker, had also returned to the Cubs after a four-year absence, including two seasons in the ill-fated Federal circuit.  Adding a final postscript to their feud, Mathewson faced Brown in Chicago on September 4, 1916 as a gate attraction for the second match of a Labor Day double-header.   Tinker, however, did not play, choosing to watch from the bench as Matty outlasted Brown, 10-8 in the last game either one of them would ever pitch.  Appropriately, it was to be the last season for Tinker as well, Joe hanging up his spikes after his Cubs finished a poor fifth.

Between the years 1902-1912 inclusive, when Tinker was the heart of the Cub infield, Matty’s record against the Chicagoans totaled 33 wins, 32 losses, and two ties.  In the 1902-1905 period Christy won 16 of 24 decisions from the Cubs, during which time Tinker could only hit his pitches for a .146 average; from 1906 through 1913, however, Joe blasted him for a .379 mark.   During this time Matty was 17-24 against the Cubs from 1906 through 1912, and 5-0 against the Reds in 1913.   Listed below is a yearly summary of Tinker’s batting totals (at bats, hits, and averages) against Mathewson, compared to his yearly averages against the league as a whole from 1902 through 1913.

THE PHILLY OUTFIELD OF 1894

When the famous 1894 Philadelphia NL outfield is mentioned, the one gardener who played the full schedule frequently gets ignored because he had the lowest batting average.  Billy Hamilton played 129 games in the outfield and batted .404. Sam Thompson played 99 games and batted .407; Ed Delahanty, who played 88 games in the outfield and also filled in at first base, batted .407; and Tuck Turner, the substitute outfielder, played 78 games in the garden and batted .416.  A fabulous collection of hitters!

There have been three dozen players hitting a trio of triples in a game since 1900, but only ten of them did it in the last 44 years.   Two players did it twice — British-born Dave Brain for the Cardinals and Pirates in 1905, and Jim Bottomley for the Cards in 1923 and 1927.

In the early years of this century it was somewhat easier to perform this feat.   Playing areas were a little larger and the ball was a little deader — at least it did not go flying out of the park as frequently as it did later.   Players at all regular positions were able to accomplish the “three-squared triumph,” even catcher Pat Moran in 1905.  And the latest entry — Al Bumbry – did it as a designated hitter.   No pitcher was ever able to collect a trio of three-baggers in one game except for Jouett Meekin for the Giants on July 4, 1894.   And he had a little assistance that day as long balls hit into the overflow outfield crowd went for three bases.   Three triples were accomplished more frequently in those days – a couple of players even hit four triples in a game prior to 1900.

Five of the players hitting three triples in a game since 1900 did it in extra innings.  For Joe Judge of the Senators it was a 19-inning game in 1921.   At the other end of the spectrum there was the case of Lou Gehrig, who hit three triples in a game that went only 4½ innings.  Actually it did not qualify as a game and Gehrig’s three-baggers went down the drain with the rain that cancelled the game.  A little more detail about that particular situation might be of interest.

On June 29, 1934, the Yankees were playing an exhibition game in Norfolk, Virginia.   Gehrig was hit in the head by a pitch which rendered him unconscious.   He was taken to a local hospital where X-rays disclosed no serious damage.  He made the overnight shipboard trip to Washington for the next game, but it was believed that his streak of 1414 consecutive games would come to an end.  However, he showed up at Griffith Stadium and got into the lineup.   In the first inning, he scored Crosetti and Ruth with a twisting triple to left that got by Heinie Manush.  In the third he hit another three-bagger and scored on Myril Hoag’s single. Both of these drives were off southpaw Walter Stewart.  In the top of the fifth, Gehrig tripled off Alex McColl, the 40-year-old reliever for the Mats.  Heavy winds came up when the Senators were batting in the bottom of the fifth, trailing 4-1.  There was dust that sent the fans scurrying for shelter, and then rain.   After a delay of more than one hour, umpires Bill McGowan and Brick Owens called the game.  About 7000 fans got rain checks, but Gehrig had his triples wiped off the books.  Looking back it was noted that Senator Manager Joe Cronin had disputed a play in the second inning — resulting in a delay that might have had a bearing on the ultimate outcome.

Gehrig, of course, was known for his power at bat; he was not known for speed on the bases.   What about the 36 players who hit three triples in a game?  Were they known for power or speed?  Or was it both – or neither?  We though we would embellish the list of triple hitters with a notation about their reputation for speed or power – two important factors in hitting triples.

Players Hitting Three Triples in a Game Since 1900

Waite Hoyt was an all-around athlete, playing football and later professional basketball, which he abandoned as a precaution against injuring his talented right wing.  Success in baseball, however, did not come instantly to the young school-boy phenomena and by the time he made it to the Majors to stay in 1919, he had apprenticed with several minor league teams, and finally the Baltimore Drydocks, an industrial team.  It was while he was with the Drydocks that the boss of the Boston Red Sox, Ed Barrow, invited young Hoyt to pitch the Sox batting practice when they played in Washington.  Liking what he saw, Barrow asked the teenager to journey to Boston to pitch in front of the Red Sox brass.  Again, impressive, it wasn’t long after that the now 19-year-old right-hander was securely under the big top for good.  His first start ended in a 12-inning, 2 to 1 victory over the Detroit Tigers.   One of his teammates on the Red Sox was a young pitcher-turned outfielder named Babe Ruth, whom he followed to the Yankees by one year.  For both, as history would later prove, it turned out to be the greatest break that ever happened.

In two seasons with Boston he had won 10 games and dropped 12, but in 1921, his first with the Yankees, he finished at 19-13.   And in the first of the city World Series between the Giants and Yankees, which was also the first World Series ever broadcast, he pitched three complete games without relinquishing an earned run.   In 27 innings, Waite was to give up just two unearned runs, but one was to cost him a 1-0 decision.   He had defeated Art Nehf, his pitching opponent in their first two outings 3-0 and 3-1 before his luck ran out.    This feat remains today as one of his top thrills in baseball.

It was during the season of 1921 that Waite Hoyt experienced his first confrontation with radio, an area that he was later to distinguish for almost 30 years, 24 of them as the- play-by-play broadcaster of the Cincinnati Reds.  One of his neighbors in Brooklyn, where Waite lived, invited the star hurler in to see a set he erected.    “I went in and there in the front room, a converted bedroom, sat the first radio I had ever seen.    The equipment was so bulky that it took up one entire wall of the bedroom.    The set, which could send or receive signals, was tuned to KDKA in Pittsburgh, and I remember being completely flabbergasted at the thought of sounds coming from that box.”

The Yankees meanwhile were in the midst of launching one of the greatest dynasties in the annals of sports and in the next 10 years, Waite’s win totals were always in double figures.   His greatest campaigns came in 1927 and 1928.   In 1927 he won 22, lost 7 and won the only game he started in the World Series — a four game sweep of Pittsburgh.   It is this Yankee club, with its balance of pitching, speed, defense and power that has been voted the greatest baseball aggregation ever assembled.    Managed by the immortal Miller Huggins, the 1927 Yankees were led by Babe Ruth, who smashed his record 60 home runs, and young Lou Gehrig, who drove in a record 175 runs.    They were ably supported by players like Earle Combs, Tony Lazzeri and Bob Meusel, and a pitching staff of Hoyt, Herb Pennock, George Pipgras and Wilcy Moore, that helped record 110 wins and the Series.

It was in the weeks before the 1927 World Series that Waite made his first appearance before a radio microphone.   “We had won the pennant by Labor Day so we virtually had the month of September off.    NBC asked me to drop by WEAF every Monday night for 15 minutes to talk about the Yankees and the season in general.   Time wasn’t a factor in those days so I would often go over the allotted 15 minutes with no repercussions whatsoever.”    Waite was on for four consecutive Mondays and received some impressive reviews from the New York press.

Graham McNamee was by this time NBC’s top radio voice and was now preparing for his fifth World Series broadcast in 1927.   Two years before, Hoyt had heard him describe the World Series which pitted Washington against Pittsburgh.   “I was somewhat shocked,” says Waite, “when I first heard McNamee report the game.  He would say ‘strike one’ and then shift his thoughts to describing what famous personages were sitting in the stands.   Sometimes he would glance back on the field just in time to say, ‘Oh! There’s a hit!’” Waite never will forget McNamee talking about the Pittsburgh pitcher throwing a curve ball to Joe Harris, the Washington right fielder.  “I remember telling a friend who was listening with me that if Harris gets another curve ball — watch out!   Well, on the very next pitch he hit a curve ball over the wall.”

Waite won 23 games in 1928 and because of it was given a contract calling for $20,000, the most he ever earned in one season.   In 1929 his record slumped to 10-9 and on Memorial Day, 1930, he was traded to the Detroit Tigers.   It was around Labor Day of 1929 that Miller Huggins, the small but stern Yankee manager, called Hoyt into his office and told him to take the rest of the season off so as to prepare for the following year.  After much deliberation he accepted Huggins advice.  This was the last time he saw his manager alive as Huggins passed on just a couple of weeks later.   Today, Waite calls Huggins, “The most analytical, psychological and philosophical force in the success and advancement of team or player that I have ever seen.   I have not encountered his equal.”  Before his career culminated, Waite had played for Huggins, John McGraw and Connie Mack, three of the game’s legendary field generals.   It was in June, 1931; when the A’s picked up

Waite on waivers and he helped pitch Philadelphia into his seventh World Series.

After spending several years with Pittsburgh, he closed out his career with Brooklyn in 1938.  He was 38, and he had 237 victories to his credit against 182 losses.  In recalling the day he received his pink Slip, Waite remembers that when he arrived at the Dodger clubhouse he ran into a rather dejected looking Heinie Manush.   “He whispered in my ear that he had just been released.   After offering my condolences I walked over to my locker and there was a telegram on the stool.  After reading it through, I quickly yelled to Manush, ‘Hey Heinie, I’ve just joined you.   Wait up and we’ll leave together.’  It took awhile for it to sink in, but I soon realized that my baseball days were behind me.”

Even though there was an agreement among the three New York clubs that, in effect, prohibited the regular broadcasting of baseball games because the owners thought it would detract from the gate, Waite still managed to break into radio even before his playing days were over.  It was during the winter of 1937 on a daily 3-1/2 hour program on WMCA called Grandstand and Bandstand.  The show’s sponsor was Wheaties.  Waite was just one member of a large cast.   Ken Strong, the great football star, was also on the show, and there were several actors and actresses who took part.  “The show was remarkable,” says Hoyt, “in that it ran for eight years and that so many people were involved, including a 36-piece orchestra.”  The next year he had his own 15-minute sports program on WNEW.  “I was so naive in radio technique that I knew nothing about timing.   I would write pages on Honus Wagner and then get only half through by the time the show ended.  I eventually learned, but there was nobody there to school me.”

One thing happened on his show that was to point out the power of radio and the drawing power that Waite could generate.  Art Flynn, the New York representative of The Sporting News, came to him one day saying, “We’re trying to get rid of 400 baseball oddity books and would like to do it on your program.  We might be able to give away a few hundred anyway.”   “Sure”, answered Waite.  “Come on the show tomorrow night and we’ll offer them to the public.”  On the show, Waite told the unseen audience that if they desired a book to send in a post card by midnight of the following day.   “How many requests do you think we got — 7300!   We thought if we gave away 200 we would be doing well.”   Since a commitment was made the FCC forced The Sporting News to set the plates and print up the needed books — to the chagrin of publisher J.G. Taylor Spink

When World War II broke out, Waite was doing the after-game shows of the Dodgers.  “It seemed like I was in competition with all the prime ministers and dictators of other countries because the station would think nothing of interrupting a game to air the speech of one of the world leaders.”

What irked Waite more than anything else in his early days in radio was to have professional announcers trying to tell him how the game of baseball should be played.  “You’d think some of these fellows wrote the book of baseball.   You never really know baseball until you put on a pair of cleats and get out and play it; and if you play for five years, you still don’t really know what it’s about.”

Getting the opportunity to be around baseball, such as he experienced with the short shows from the ballparks, was a wonderful tonic for Waite since he had hung up the glove and cleats for good.  After a while, as he began to master the techniques of broadcasting, he beckoned for a shot at play-by-play.   It was evident, however, that he wasn’t going to get his chance in New York because the stations there were under the misconception that ballplayers lacked a sufficient vocabulary.  That mixed-up thinking is illustrated in reverse today by the trend of putting ex-athletes into lucrative broadcasting positions.    The pear-shaped tone advocates and those who specialized in stilted annunciation were the announcers in demand in the late 1930’s and it was impossible for Waite, whose delivery was undignified but pleasant, to crack into their ranks.   He wasn’t even permitted to audition.  “They just didn’t want me!”, he is quick to say without any trace of bitterness.   “I think the radio heads felt I knew too much about baseball and in those days they didn’t want somebody like me making a fool of one of their so-called authoritative reporters.  They just didn’t want to look bad.   I even tried to get a job as an assistant and was turned down.”

It was in the latter part of 1941 that radio station WKRC in Cincinnati, in search of a new radio personality to broadcast the games of the Reds, approached Waite with a firm play-by-play offer.  Even though his only contact with Cincinnati had been as a visiting ballplayer, and he knew nothing about the city, he accepted on the spot.   He soon found out his job wasn’t going to be an easy one; however, as two other Cincinnati stations were also carrying the Reds broadcasts.  Sam Baiter and Al Stephens were heard on WSAI, with Roger Baker and Dick Bray representing WLW. Waite’s partner was Dick Nesbitt.   Exclusive contracts were still a few years away.

Several obstacles confronted the pitcher turned sportscaster when he began doing the actual game-by-game reports.   The most pressing problem at first was learning how to score a. game.   “Even though I had played in the Major Leagues for 20 seasons I had never learned to keep score, and so I had to invent a system of my own.   Another problem I had when I began in play-by-play was that I thought the broadcaster would have plenty of time to elaborate on plays or to tell stories and reminisce.    I found that there was very little time to do any of this.”   “The Great Race”, another obstacle which developed between the three rival stations in their desire to scoop the other on what was happening on the field, was a “great misconception” according to Hoyt.   “How  could anyone be listening to three stations at once unless he was trying to draw a deliberate comparison.”   Nonetheless “The Great Race” became an early fact of life as he became hardened to the role of a baseball broadcaster.   “To tell you the truth, I had many adjustments to make,”   says Waite, today, in thinking back.  “I was never very good, whether I was pitching or broadcasting, in initially getting off the mound.   I was a lousy auditioner and many have told me I sounded as if I was reading Latin.”

“When I joined WKRC they were very concerned over my ability to ad lib or speak extemporaneously, which was an unknown factor up until that point.   This was very ironic because in later years I was to talk over two hours straight during rain breaks without benefit of scripts or other aids.   The fact that my first year with the Reds was during the early days of U.S. involvement in World War II also made it hard because no one knew if baseball was going to suspend action or if the players were going to be drafted.”

The only memory he has of his inaugural broadcast in Cincinnati in 1942 was that he asked his wife to listen to all three stations and form her opinions on the announcers.  “Although she didn’t know a thing about baseball or broadcasting, she was able to tell me that Baker was rather smooth and cultured in his speech and that I would have to get the rough edges off and learn to speak without hesitating and with more decision.   As time went on, though, I profited through the process of elimination of my own mistakes.”

When he began with the Reds in 1942 there was just a scattering of former players who had made the transition into top flight broadcasters.    Jack Graney in Cleveland, Harry Heilmann in Detroit, and Frankie Frisch in Boston were the most prominent.    “The athlete-announcers of today don’t realize how tough we had it at first because those so-called professionals who had preceded us had schooled the public wrongly.    We had to break down all the misconceptions, the misinterpretations of rules, and the vernacular that our predecessors had interpreted according to their own whimsy.”

With his casual but sincere, matter-of-fact style, Waite became a tremendous favorite with the fans in the Cincinnati area.   As the years went by he became as much a part of the club as the players themselves.    Twenty seasons of big-league experience, where he had associated with some of the game’s greatest stars, gave him a wealth of anecdotal material to draw upon.    His storehouse of memories and recollections of his pal and teammate, Babe Ruth, are incomparable.   Listeners used to pray for rain so he would have the opportunity to reminisce about days gone by.   Whereas all other stations would return to the studio for some recorded music when there was a rain delay, Cincinnati fans crowded closer to their radios to hear Waite tell about the Big Guy (Ruth) when he was in his prime.   He also used the rain breaks to try and get over the idea that everyone makes mistakes, including sports announcers.   “I would try to philosophize and level with the people.   I just did the best I could and that’s all anybody can do.”

By pursuing perfection, Waite Hoyt became, without really realizing it, one of the finest broadcasters in baseball.   In the process, Cincinnati became his hometown and the Reds became his team.    Through the good years and the bad, he remained at his post.    In 1952, he pioneered the idea of the simulcast — reporting for both television and radio simultaneously.    Cincinnati, with its staunch German traditions was a slow city to change.   Thus, Waite was the last of the Major League announcers to abandon the telegraphic studio recreations.  In 1961, after years of adversity, the Reds copped the National League pennant, and their broadcaster received one of his great thrills — being with a pennant winner again.   “Cincinnati is my town,” he is quick to say.  “I pay my taxes here, my son was brought up here, my friends are here, my money was made her and I’ll be buried here.”

Twenty-four years and 4,000 games after Ellen Hoyt informed her husband that he needed more polish behind the microphone, Waite Charles Hoyt signed off the air for the final time from Crosley Field.  The guy they once called “School Boy” formally bowed out after 50 years in baseball.

“The big adventure is over,” he said when he left the Reds broadcast booth.  He didn’t leave without fanfare, however, as in response to the many, many requests from the fans, a “Waite Hoyt Day” was held at Crosley Field on Sunday, September 5, 1965.  Before Hoyt called it quits, Russ Hodges, the voice of the Giants, said of him:  “Waite Hoyt is authoritative.  When he makes a statement there is no doubt as to its accuracy.  When Hoyt says it’s so, the Cincinnati public goes by what he says.  He gives a clean-cut description of the game, drawing a clear, positive picture for his listeners.  His voice is really very fine.  During the occasional lulls he dips into a vast sore of baseball knowledge.  His stories of associations with such immortals as Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, John McGraw and countless others are a delight for Waite’s fans.  One thing I’m positive about,” concluded Hodges, “is the fact that he is just as fine an announcer as he was a player.”

The man who in the 1920s coined the phrase, “It’s great to be young and a Yankee,” reached the “pinnacle of all I’ve dreamed and hoped for” on February 2, 1969 when he was elected to Baseball’s Hall of Fame.  “There is nothing beyond it,” he said.  “It’s a real privilege.”  And right in character, Waite added, “It strikes me that a lot of other fellows haven’t gotten there that are more deserving, but – at any rate – I’m very happy about it.  You see fellows going in that you played with and you sort of hope for yourself.”

“There aren’t many superlatives that can be used in a situation like this, to describe just what a fellow does feel.  The feeling is one of such heightened emotion that it is hard to marshall my thoughts regarding it.  When you entered pro ball you hoped you’ make the big leagues and then when you reached that pinnacle, you hoped you’d perform well enough to stay there.  And when you are through, you wonder if you did well enough to be recognized.  Sometimes you feel you could have done a little better if you tried a little harder and you wonder if you did as well as you should have.  To a Major Leaguer the Hall of Fame is the zenith, the acme of everything he ever dreamt or thought could happen.”

It’s apparent that Waite Hoyt has excelled in anything he has ever attempted.  There is not much more a man can accomplish in life than this.  Sportscasters Hall of Fame, be prepared to swing open your gates.  It won’t be long before a man named Hoyt graces your portals too.

Back in 1912, the Rocky Mountain League began the season with teams in Canon City, Colorado Springs, La Junta, and Pueblo, Colorado.  A few weeks after the 1912 season started, problems developed with some of these franchises and some changes were necessitated.   The Canon City club shifted to Raton, New Mexico;   Pueblo shifted to Trinidad, Colorado;  and Colorado Springs was succeeded by Dawson, New Mexico.   But, where is Dawson?  or where was Dawson?   No road map or atlas of the last 20 years has anything about Dawson.

Based on the theory that most of the old towns were located on railroads, fellow SABR member Robert Hoie of San Marino, California, located an old railroad map which placed Dawson in Colfax County, bordering Colorado  in NE New Mexico.   He also came up with part of the story about Dawson.   The city location was originally a ranch on the Varmejo Creek owned by J.R. and I.S. Dawson.  After coal was discovered in 1895, it became a Phelps-Dodge owned coal mining town.   It had a peak population of nearly 3,000 and became one of the first O.B. entries in New Mexico when that territory became the 47th State in 1912.   Dawson only operated part of that 1912 season; there was no Rocky Mountain League the next year.

But this still doesn’t indicate what happened to the city of Dawson, which was located about 25 miles SW of Raton.  Jack Bell, an engineer from Seattle, clarifies the story;  Mining continued at Dawson into the 1940’s.  Shortly after World War II, the coal miners formed a union, struck, and were successful in gaining increased pay.  It worked so well, in fact, that they decided to strike again.  They did this in spite of the strong assertion by the coal company that the coal would no longer be economical enough for the uses for which it was being mined.  The miners struck and the company closed down the mine.  Coal was the only business of Dawson and that was now ended.   All the people moved away.  The hospital, school, stores, churches, and homes were soon bulldozed into the mined-out area and the whole thing covered with dirt.  Today there is absolutely no indication that a city, or mine, ever existed there.   Even the Southern Pacific Railroad track was picked up, according to Jack Bell’s brother-in-law, who was an engineer and train-master on that line.

There are a number of minor league “ghost towns” around the country, but absolutely nothing remains of Dawson, New Mexico.

Earlier that season Walter Johnson had fashioned a personal win streak that had reached 16, a new American League record, breaking by two the record that had been held by Jack Chesbro of the New York Highlanders since 1904.  Johnson’s record-breaking 15th successive win came on August 20 and he added number 16 as he beat Detroit 8-1, on August 23.

A heart-breaking loss in relief on August 26 ended his string.  Walter had taken over from starter Tom Hughes in the seventh of the second game of a double header with the score tied and two St. Louis Browns on base.  One of them scored the winning run before Johnson could retire the side.  Under today’s scoring rules Hughes would have been charged with that winning run, but Ban Johnson, president of the American League, decreed the loss be charged to Walter Johnson.  His decision was bitterly denounced, especially in Washington.  On August 28, however, that edict and the storm that it created became academic when Walter started against the Browns, went the distance, and lost, 3-2.   While he only gave up four hits that day, he also walked four and hit his pitching opponent, Jack Powell.

In that same year, 1912, Rube Marquard opened the season for the New York Giants with an 18-3 win over Brooklyn.   The game was played before an overflow crowd and had to be called after six innings because of “congestion”; the fans had encroached the foul lines so as to hamper further play.  Rube went on without a loss for 19 consecutive victories.

Again, by today’s standards, Rube’s record would have been 20 and he would not now be sharing the major league record with Tim Keefe of New York.   Keefe also ran up 19 in 1888, under different pitching rules than those extant since the turn of the century.  Early in the 1912 season, Marquard was sent in to relieve Jeff Tesreau with the score 3-2 against the Giants in the ninth.    In the bottom of that inning New York rallied to win 4-3 but the victory was credited to Tesreau.

As Johnson’s streak between July 3 and August 23 had grown and had posed a threat to Marquard’s major league mark achieved earlier in 1912, Joe Wood, starting a consecutive string of wins of his own on July 8, was threatening Johnson’s newly acquired A.L. record as a series between Washington and Boston approached.

Recognizing the drama of a head-to-head meeting between these two great pitchers, baseball fans and writers, everywhere, clamored for the opportunity for Johnson, himself, to put an end to Wood’s threat to his record 16 consecutive wins acquired less than two weeks before.  Walter’s regular turn was to be Friday, September 6, but Wood was not scheduled to take the mound again until Saturday.

Jake Stahl, Boston manager, aware of the sporting nature of the proposal, agreed to start Wood a day earlier.  The fans responded over 30,000 strong far more than Fenway Park could accommodate in those days.  On the day of the game, fans who could not be seated overflowed onto the playing field.  Standing room was established behind ropes in front of the outfield walls and bleachers.  Other spectators crowded along the foul lines.  The teams were not even able to use their own dugouts, but were obliged to use chairs set up in front of the multitudes ranged along the foul lines.

In the second game of a twinbill against the New York Highlanders on September 2, Joe Wood had won his

13th game without a loss and so, on September 6, he was seeking his 14th while Johnson was hoping to end Smoky Joe’s threat to a record that Walter had scarcely had time to get used to owning.

As expected, the game developed into a bona fide pitching battle.  Boston put together two singles in the second but Walter escaped that threat as Heinie Wagner raced into the outfield to grab a pop fly in spectacular fashion for the third out.  Washington filled the bases in the third, two on walks, but Smoky Joe fanned Danny Moeller for the third out.

The lone tally of this memorable game came in the sixth after Walter had disposed of the first two batters of the inning.   Tris Speaker hit into the crowd in left for a ground-rule double.  Duffy Lewis, next up, drove a hard liner along the right field foul line which Moeller, the Senator right fielder, almost caught, the ball just ticked his glove as Speaker scored and Lewis reached second.

The Senators had men in scoring position, at second, in the sixth, eighth, and ninth but Wood was tough when he had to be.   In two of those innings he got the final out via a strike out.   In all, he fanned nine Senators, and the shutout was one of 10 he registered in 1912.

Having registered win #14 in his heart-stopping 1-0 conquest of Walter Johnson and the Senators, Wood next faced Doc White in Chicago on September 10.  Going into the ninth of this game with a 5-3 lead, Joe was touched for a lead-off double by Wally Mattick and a single by Harry Lord, running the hit total for the hone club to a round dozen.   Manager Stahl realized that Joe was not at his beat and called in Charles “Sea Lion” Hall to save the game.  A sacrifice fly by Shano Collins brought the White sox to Within one run of a tie but Hall disposed of the next two to preserve #15 for Joe Wood.

Wood’s next turn occurred in St. Louis on September 15, in the second game of a double header.  He beat the

Browns 2-1, in an eight inning game for #16 and a tie with Johnson for the A.L. consecutive game record.   The game had to be called after eight innings because of darkness and it was Wood, himself, who scored the winning run in the top of that last inning.

Joe’s bid to better the A.L. pitcher’s win streak and to threaten the major league mark came to an end in Detroit when the Tigers scored two unearned runs to win, 6-4, on September 20.   While Wood went the distance, he was not effective, surrendering seven hits and being wild.  In the third inning, for example, he walked his pitching opponent, Bill Covington, and then, in succession Donie Bush, Red Corriden, and Wahoo Sam Crawford.

While Johnson won a spectacular 32 games in 1912, Wood closed out the season with an even more impressive mark.  He won 34 and lost only 5, one of the all-time great season records.

In the “strange but true” category, the modern records (since 1900) for consecutive wins by a pitcher in a single season were established in that one year; Marquard’s major league 19 and the 16 with which Johnson and Wood recorded American League highs.   The A.L. record has since been tied by Lefty Grove of Philadelphia in 1931 and Schoolboy Rowe of Detroit in 1934.   The most remarkable display of avoiding a pitching defeat, however, belongs to Carl Hubbell of the New York Giants.   King Carl, the “Meal Ticket”, ended 1936 with a run of 16 straight wins and then started the 1937 season with 8 more to make it 24 games without tasting defeat.

Many baseball games are remembered by players and fans for a multitude of reasons; maybe it was the first game a player ever played, or the day he could do no wrong on the field, the first time a boy’s father took him to a game, or a game of historical import.   Whatever the reason, almost every game will live in someone’s memory as long as that someone lives.   Some games, though deserve to be remembered by the entire baseball community for all time.  The Walter Johnson-Joe Wood contest played on September 6, 1912 should be one of those.  Here is the box score.

            Washington……………………000  000  000 – 0

            Boston…………………………000  001  00x – 1

2-base hits – McBride, Laport, Speaker, Lewis.

Sacrifice hits – Ainsmith, Lewis, Moran

Runs batted in – Lewis.

Stolen base – Foster

Left on bases – Boston 4, Washington 8.

Double play – Wood to Wagner to Engle.

Bases on balls – Johnson 1, Wood 3.

Struck out – Wood 9, Johnson 5.

Time – 1:46.  Umpires –  Connolly and Hart

Williams achieved the ultimate on September 5, 1969, when Steve Blass of Pittsburgh held the Cubs to 4 hits and Billy got all of them.   In addition, they all went for extra bases — two doubles and two homers.   The only other time this feat was approached was on August 1, 1903, when Kid Elberfeld of the New York AL Club collected all four hits off Rube Waddell of the A’s. That time all four were singles.

On July 5, 1965, Williams collected all three hits off Woodie Pryman of the Pirates.   This time the hits were two singles and a double.   This feat by a batter was achieved by 21 others since 1900, but never twice by the same hitter. It did happen twice to a pitcher.   In consecutive starts on July 8 and 12, 1969, Baltimore southpaw Mike Cuellar set the Yankees down with three hits (all by Ron Woods) and the Red Sox (all by Tony Conigliaro).

In his first full year, on September 24, 1961, Williams reached Warren Spahn for two singles in what was otherwise a hitless effort for the Milwaukee ace. On July 25, 1970, Billy rapped Phil Niekro for two singles and the Braves’ knuckleballer wasn’t able to get his no-hitter until 1973.   The Cubs’ outfielder is one of five players to collect both hits off a hurler on two occasions. Other double spoilers were Duff Cooley of the Boston NL club in 1903 and 1904; Earl Averill of the Indians in 1935 and 1937;   Vada Pinson did it once in each league, in 1963 for the Reds, and 1970 for the Indians; and Henry Aaron for the Braves in 1959 and 1962.

The two hits that Aaron made off long-forgotten hurler Willard Hunter of the Mets on June 20, 1962, were both homers.  They were enough to beat the rookie hurler 3-2.  An even more uncommon happening took place on May 2, 1972 when Gary Gentry of the Mets tossed a 2-hitter against the Giants and both hits were triples — by Bobby Bonds.

So Williams stood in the way of four pitching gems by being the sole hit collector, but never was it just one bingle.  What about those more tense, emotional games where only one hit stood between a pitcher and baseball immortality?  How many spoilers were there who collected that crucial hit more than once?  There have been many; in fact, Bobby Doerr did it twice to the same pitcher — Bob Feller.

There were six players who were credited with breaking up three no-hitters with solitary hits. They were Sherry Magee, Harry Hooper, Bob Johnson, Del Ennis, Zoilo Versalles, and Jim Northrup.  The real spoilers, however, were those who broke up a record four no-hitters.   They were Ed Konetchy, Don Blasingame, and Cesar Tovar.   Koney did it in consecutive games on June 28 and 30, 1916.  Here is a summary of those crucial hits, so devastating to a dozen aspiring hurlers.

“A call has been issued for the captains of all colored base ball clubs of Georgia, Florida, South Carolina, Alabama and Tennessee that have a fair record and desire to enter the Southern League of Colored Base Ballists to send name and address at once to The Manager, lock box 298, Jacksonville, Florida.”

The Charleston (S.C.) News & Courier reported April 8 that it had received a circular outlining the basic plan for the league, which was being organized with a “board of twelve directors representing a capital of nearly $100,000.”  Opening games were scheduled for May 10 in Memphis, Atlanta, Charleston, Savannah, Montgomery, and Jacksonville.   The circular also reported that:

“Upon receipt of this notice by you, you must forth with remit your club’s entrance fee to the manager of the league, at Jacksonville, Fla., by post office money order; the amount is $5.   This money will be expended for printing, advertising, telegraphing, postal cards, stamps, etc.  A statement of receipts and expenditures will be furnished monthly to each club in the league.

“The umpires chosen to umpire a game must be such a man that be acceptable by both clubs.   No ‘cooked and dried’ umpire will be considered favorable by the league.”

“What can you do in the way of good board and lodging? Answer.

“Is your club backed by a stock company or a party of one or two?   If so, to about what extent?  If not, secure good backers at once.

“The club that visits your city must have a guarantee from you to the effect that enough money will be realized to cover expenses such as board, lodging and car fare. 

“The Southern Leader, of Jacksonville, Fla., will be the official organ of the league, to which all clubs that enter the league shall subscribe on or before May 10 at $1.50 per year.

“Clubs will be suspended for repeated disorderly conduct, cursing, fighting, drunkeness, etc.”

In Charleston a local club, the Fultons, was quickly organized under the guidance of Col. J.J. Young. The News & Courier reported that the club was headquartered at 444 King Street and was negotiating for the use of the city baseball park for a series of exhibition games with the Cuban Giants of Philadelphia.

The league did not get its season launched May 10 as planned.   On May 22 a meeting was held in Jacksonville to draw up a schedule and finalize plans for the 1886 season.  The result was a season scheduled to open June 7 and close August 25. The following clubs were listed as members of the league: Eclipse of Memphis, Georgia Champions of Atlanta, Broads of Savannah, Eurekas of Memphis, Lafayettes of Savannah, Fultons of Charleston, Athletics of Jacksonville, Unions of New Orleans, Florida Clippers of Jacksonville and Macedonias of Jacksonville. 

Some of these clubs played in games reported in various southern newspapers.  Further mention of others could not be located, but the Jerseys of Savannah, Roman Cities of Jacksonville and Montgomery Blues were all mentioned later in the season as being in the league.  The Negro clubs received coverage ranging from good in the Memphis Appeal-Avalanche to very poor in the Atlanta Constitution.  None of the league city newspapers surveyed reported any standings and box scores were located in no paper except the New Orleans Times-Picayune.

The first game played in New Orleans was scheduled June 14 but was rained out and rescheduled June 16.   The Times-Picayune published the following starting lineup for the Union nine:  James Arnold, p.; P. Johnson, c; W.J. Turner, 1b; J. Recasner, 2b; W. Davis, 3b; G. Irwin, ss; J. Walker, rf; T. Walker, cf; C. Noise, lf; and C. Ogden, substitute.

The game between the Unions and the Eclipse club of Memphis got a favorable review the following day:

“…. Judging from the first game, the colored clubs will furnish good sport, and the teams can play ball,” the Times-Picayune reporter wrote, adding that “The Eclipse boys all fielded well and threw the ball like the best professionals.” The Memphis club won the game, 3-1, scoring all of its runs in the first inning “on missed third strikes,  … wild throws by the catchers and two passed balls.”

It appeared that the wrong New Orleans club was in the league.  After the Unions and Eclipse club completed their series, the visitors from Memphis were issued a challenge by another New Orleans Negro club, the Cohens, “to settle the question of supremacy and show that there was more than one first class colored club in New Orleans.”  Price, the Cohens’ pitcher, threw a two-hitter as the Cohens defeated Memphis.

The Fultons of Charleston played a series of exhibition games before actually getting into league play.    In their quest for suitable exhibition opponents they listed the following requirements in a notice in the Charleston paper:

“1st, That the club must be properly uniformed.  2nd, That they are men, not boys.   The Fultons are unwilling to play under any other regulations than those published by Spaulding for professionals.   The ball to be Peck & Snyder’s dead red, as required by the Southern Colored League.  No betting or pool selling will be allowed on the grounds and any persons found so doing will be ejected.”

The Fultons quickly lined up an exhibition against the Resolutes, a Charleston Negro amateur club, and announced that “the phenomenon, ‘Babe’ Smith” would throw for the professionals.

“Babe” did not have a good day.  He “was batted out of the box by the middle of the game and his place supplied by a pitcher who was pounded all over the field.  Those who expected to witness an interesting game of base ball between two of the best colored clubs in Charleston at the Base Ball Park yesterday were very much disappointed in their expectations,” the Charleston News & Courier reported.    “The much talked-of Fultons appeared on the feld in rather showy uniforms, which consisted of dark blue shirts, white belts, light blue pants, red stockings and white caps with a double horizontal red bar.”

“There was nothing that could be called even good amateur playing throughout the whole game.  The Resolutes, which are only a picked nine recently organized for the purpose of playing the professional Fultons, won the game by a score of 28 to 17… The Fultons ascribe their defeat to the want of practice.”

The Fultons did not fare much better in their league debut in Charleston.  On June 19 they were defeated by the Georgia Champions of Atlanta, 8-5, and the phenomenal Babe Smith was again batted freely.

Two of the players in the league were reported to have had some connections with white clubs of that era.  The aforementioned B.B.H. (Babe) Smith, the Charleston hurler, was said to have pitched and played first base for the Manhattans of New York in 1884.   “He played against the Philadeiphias and he is said to be a host in himself,” the News & Courier reported.

Pointter, pitcher-third baseman for the Eclipse of Memphis, apparently played some with white clubs later.

Southern League city newspapers the following year made no mention of a Negro league, but the New Orleans Times Picayune of April 25, 1887, reported that Pointter was playing with Binghamton and that the well known Negro star Bud Fowler was on the same club.   Pointter was among a number of good players on the Eclipse club, which appears to have been the best in the league.

“The Eclipse (colored) club returned to the city yesterday.  During their trip they have won eight out of twelve games, as follows:  two at Chattanooga, two at Atlanta, one at Montgomery, one at Mobile, two at New Orleans,” The Memphis Appeal reported in its June 24 issue.

“Renfroe, their crack pitcher, has won every game he pitched but one, averaging twelve strikeouts a game for nine games.  In his first game against Chattanooga he struck out the first nine men who came to bat.   He has great speed and a very deceptive down-shoot,” the story added.

The Appeal in late August referred to the Eclipse and Eureka clubs of Memphis as the champion colored clubs of the South.  Substantiating the Memphis pennant claim will be difficult unless more results can be unearthed in other league city newspapers.  The best possibility appears to be in locating files of the Jacksonville Leader since it is identified as the official league organ.

A neglected but fruitful field for argument is the opposite question, Which was the worst major league team? There is a way to answer this usually unasked question, for the teams of this century.

John McGraw said a great team was a team that won the pennant three years in a row. He didn’t say what a really bad team was, but we could turn his rule around and say a rotten team was a team that finished last three years straight. (Some have stayed at the bottom longer than that.) Here is a list of such weakling teams from 1901 through the 1960’s.

Whatever else this list might teach us, it helps us to understand the sorrows of Philadelphia and more easily to forgive the surliness of its fans. Of the 51 sad seasons tabulated above, Philadelphia suffered through 26. Altogether, Philadelphia teams finished last more than 20 times since 1901.

In each of those clubs’ wretched streaks it stands to reason that one season must have been the worst. There seem to be two possible ways to pick the weakest year — take the year in which the sorry group scored the fewest runs, or, to be a little fancier, choose the season in which it made the smallest share of the runs scored in the games it played. But either method gives the same list except for the A’s and the Senators.    On the fewest-

runs list,  the 1943 Athletics and the 1957 Senators appear. By percentage of runs scored, the 1942 Athletics and the 1958 Senators were worse. In all other clubs’ streaks the worst team is the same worst team, either way you take it.

Here is the shortened list of surely weakest teams. After each name is the percentage of the runs they scored in the games they played that season.

There are those who will note the absence of the 1935 Braves from the list, but their faults were passing things in spite of their 38-115 season. They finished fourth in 1934 and sixth in 1936, and they haven’t finished last at any of their three sites since.

There are some Mets fans over 30 who have an upside-down pride in their support of the world’s worst club a decade back. They can forget it. The Phillies of 1938-1942, five long seasons, were worse, if we can believe the scoreboard.

What did these rottenest teams have in common?   The way to find out is to find out what categories of play they usually did worst in. (Home-runs hit, and shut-outs pitched were not very important in settling the fates of these teams; they were not usually the weakest in their leagues in those two aspects.)

Here are the categories of play in which these teams were the weakest in their leagues in their worst seasons.

This reading of the record books not only gives us a list of the century’s feeblest teams, but confirms the popular notion that giving up a lot of earned runs is a bad idea. Only half of these teams had the worst fielding averages, but three-quarters of them had the worst earned run averages of their grimmest seasons. Could we say that weak pitching is 75% of bad baseball?

Now back to the question:  Which was worst?

The worst team has to be either the 1952 Pirates, who took it all apart instead of putting it all together, or the 1942 Phillies who seemed to like to lose big. The Phillies scored 394 runs and gave up 706. Manager Hans Lobert just could not get them going. The only notable feature about the 1942 club was that Danny Litwhiler compiled a 1.000 fielding average. In the years 1938-1942 the Phillies lost a hundred or more games every year. In 1943, after the fifth year of desolation, the National League reclaimed the franchise and arranged new ownership.

The 1952 Pirates had bad artistic form — even Ralph Kiner had an off year — but the 1942 Phillies were worse. They missed the point of the game, averaging 2.6 runs a game while giving up 4.7. The scoreboard gives the final measure of success or failure.   It measures those 1942 Phillies as worst.