How do you tell what constitutes a good trade? While it is obvious, for example, that the Cardinals’ 1964 trade of Ernie Broglio for Lou Brock was a spectacular success, we have never been able to express that fact by any simple, succinct mathematical statement. How could we? To fill the void, I have developed a method of “scoring” a trade that attempts to reduce all of the contributions of the players exchanged to a single ratio.

Each player’s season was evaluated in accordance with 17 rules, 6 applying to pitchers and 11 to non-pitchers. For example, Lou Brock’s contributions to the 1964 Cardinals were evaluated at 12, 3 points for games played (103), 4 for batting average (.348), 3 for slugging average (.5 27), 1 for home run percentage (2.9), and I for stolen bases (33), reduced to 10 because Brock batted less than 500 times for the Cardinals. 10 points is an above-average total for a full season and an exceptional total for 103 games. Brock earned no points for defense, though they are available. Meanwhile, Ernie Broglio is credited with 2 points for his wins total (4), and 2 for other reasons, but when adjustments are made for his ERA and activity level, he winds up with a rating of 1 point contributed toward the Cubs’ success in the 1964 season.

A full explanation of how the rating-point system works would leave us no space for anything else, so we will move on and anyone interested in more details can contact the author. The system makes no claims to precision, but attempts to sort out levels of performance with a consistency which is convincing to the point of being, in a general way, undeniable. Take, for example, the 1972 National League.  The MVP, Johnny Bench, was rated at “16”, the same rating given to Billy Williams (37 HR, 122 RBI, .333) and Cesar Cedeno (22, 82, .320 with 55 SB). Two other players, Joe Morgan (16, 73, .292, 58 SB) and Steve Carlton (27-10) rated even higher, at 17. Obviously there is some question about who should rate 16 and who 17, as Bench, at 16, won the big award. But there is no doubt whatsoever that, in naming Bench, Williams, Cedeno, Morgan, and Carlton, we have listed a group of players who rank (for that season) at the very top of the league’s stars.

Similarly, were we to take the players who ranked at “12” (Willie Stargell, Jose Cardenal, Jon Matlack) we would have a list of players who were, while still excellent ballplayers, undeniably not in the class of the 16’s and 17’s. The players listed at “8” include Burt Hooton (11-14), Joe Tone (.289), and Tim Foli (.241 with good defensive stats at SS), still undeniably not in a class (that year) with Stargell and Cardenal, but still clearly better than such players, rated at “4”, as Ernie McAnally (6-15), Bobby Valentine (.274 as a utility man) or Steve Garvey (.269 in half a season at third), who, in their turn, are still making a much larger contribution than such 0-value players as Jim York (0-1, 5.25 ERA) and Bob Fenwick (0,4, .180).

Armed with a system for evaluating seasons, the next task is to sort out the ground rules of a fair trade evaluation method. Question one is, “What constitutes a `trade’?” “Curt Motton for cash and two players to be named later,” for example-is that a trade or a sale? I decided not to rate any transactions involving cash, except for those listed as “sold in exchange for.”

Question two is, “What is a fair rating period?” One year is obviously not enough, but you can’t go back every season and update the records of trades made 10 or 15 years ago. You have to stop somewhere. I decided on 5 years as an acceptable period. There are trades for which this is misleading, of course, such as the George Foster trade, but as a general rule 5 years is quite enough for the direction of the result to be well established. There were many other ground rules needed, but only two other important enough to explain here. If a player were traded again within his five-year rating period, then the points he accumulated with his future team are credited to the team which acquired him in the original trade, as they will be counted against that team when the player is traded out of the system. If, on the other hand, the player is later sold, drafted, released, becomes a free agent, or is reassigned in a minor league transaction, then the count stops.

To see how these rules work, let us examine one trade in detail. In the winter of 1965, the Cincinnati Reds committed one of the most visible blunders in trading history when they exchanged their superstar outfielder, Frank Robinson, to the Baltimore Orioles for pitchers Jack Baldschun and Milt Pappas and outfielder Dick Simpson. Robinson’s contributions to the Orioles over the next five years were assessed at 16, 13, 8, 14, and 14 points, a total of 65. Simpson played for the Reds, occasionally, for two seasons, his accomplishments measured at 1 point in 1965 and 0 in 1966. From then on he was traded to four teams in two years, contributing two more points for a total estimated value of 3. Baldschun made no measurable contribution to the Reds in two seasons before returning to the minors, where he somehow became the property of the expansion Padres. His future major league success, such as it was, is irrelevant to the Reds and is not counted to them. Milt Pappas, the main bait for Robinson, pitched for the Reds for two full seasons, his value considered at 5 in 1966 and 8 in 1967, and part of another (0 value) before being traded to Atlanta, where he earned an additional 5 and 3 points in two seasons. In mid-season, 1970, he was sold to Chicago, and that stops the count. His total value: 21 points. The final score on that trade: Baltimore 65, Cincinnati 24.  The final log on the Brock trade: St. Louis 54, Chicago 8.

To provide a basis for analysis, I rated every major league player for every season between 1963 and 1972, and every significant trade that I could find record of between the close of business, 1962, and June 15, 1973. Many players, of course, also had to be rated for the 1973-77 seasons. A few points from the complete study will serve to illustrate the general accuracy, and marginal inaccuracy, of the player rating system. First, the correlation between team total rating points and team wins is .92 (Pearson product/moment), indicating a very close relationship. Second, of the 20 MVPs in those years, 10 were rated as high as any player in the league, while 5 others missed by only one or two points. One MVP, Ken Boyer of the `64 Cardinals, won with a rating of 11, although Willie Mays rated 5 points higher at 16. However, if you added to the system a 2-point bonus for playing on a pennant winner and a 4-point bonus for leading the league in RBI, it would nominate 17 of the 20 MVP correctly. 14 of the 17 Cy Young winners and 16 of the 20 top rookies were also the highest-rated players available for the awards.

Finally, the results. What were the best trades of the period, (or, from the other side, the worst)? Number one on the lop-sided list was the October 1970 trade between Detroit and Washington. Bob Short, then owner of the Senators, had come to baseball following a largely successful run as owner of the Los Angeles Lakers, and his experience in basketball had led him to greatly overestimate what star value would mean to a baseball team. Denny McLain, for his part, had become a superstar by age 24, and it had led him to greatly underestimate the value of a reasonable training program. The results were enough to put an end to 70 years of baseball in the nation’s capital; Joe Coleman (45 pts.), Eddie Brinkman (36), and Aurelio Rodriguez (34) went to Detroit in exchange for Denny McLain (5), Elliot Maddox (9), and two zero-value players, a final count of Detroit 115, Washington 14-101 points given away in a single trade, the worst (or best) exchange of the period.

Close behind it is the 1971 trade in which Houston traded Cincinnati several championships, in the form of Joe Morgan, whose 86 points in the rated period are easily the highest of any player traded.  The Reds also got Geronimo (40), Billingham (37), Menke (8), and Armbrister (1) for Lee May, Helms, and Stewart. Houston actually got a lot of talent out of the deal, as both May and Helms rated well for several years, but it doesn’t compare to the talent that they traded away. Final Score: Cincinnati 172, Houston 79.

Rating behind that are, in order, Gaylord Perry and Frank Duffy for Sam McDowell (92-5); Nolan Ryan and others for Jim Fregosi (83-4); Ken Singleton, Tim Foli, and Mike Jorgensen for Rusty Staub (126-48), Amos Otis plus for Joe Foy (83-6); and Randy Hundley and Bill Hands for Lindy McDaniel and Don Landrum (9 1-19).

That’s right-the Mets made three of those in two years. The Mets have, as their fans well know, traded themselves out of contention by giving away half of the American League’s All-Star team in fruitless attempts to find a third baseman or power hitter. But for consistency and durability in the Monty Hall give-away game, no one can begin to touch the astonishing series of “coups” pulled off by the San Francisco Giants. They made 25 rated trades in the 1963-72 period, almost all of them bad ones, for a sum total of 270-717, a deficit of 447 points, enough to win three pennants without help, and enough to turn seven last-place teams into pennant winners. That may seem extreme, but consider what would happen to a last-place team if you essentially gave them the best years of Hundley and Hands, Perry and Duffy, plus Matty Alou (his trade was 8-57), Orlando Cepeda (22-50), Stu Miller and John Orsino (10-51), Ron Hunt (0-27), George Foster and several others. The series of trades by which they ridded themselves of Maddox, Bonds, Ontiveros, Falcone, and Speier have not yet come up for review.

The best of traders? The Kansas City Royals, easily. Although they existed for only half of the rated period and made only 13 rated trades, five of them bad ones, they pulled off such “Godfather” bargains as the Amos Otis deal (83-6), the Lou Piniella for two non-prospects exchange (43-7), Cookie Rojas for a minor leaguer (39-0), the Freddie Patek steal (69-14), John Mayberry for Jim York (52-2), Hal McRae plus for Richie Scheiblum plus (48-6), and others at 32-3 and 10-0, for a net gain of 225 points. They have traded a bunch of journeymen into a championship team.

Since we measure the best by the bulk gain, not the ratio, the accomplishment is made more and not less impressive by the short span of time in which it was accomplished. But it is true that many of the other organizations have had “gain” periods when they traded well, but have forfeited the gains during other managements. Two other managements could challenge the Royals’ record.  The Cubs during the Durocher years made the Hundley deal, plus Fergie Jenkins and Adolfo Phillips for two old pitchers (8 8-29) and Jim Hickman and Phil Regan for Ted Savage (5 5-2). The Orioles during the Harry Dalton years pulled off more heists than the Dalton Gang, topped by the Mike Cuellar caper (74-12) and the Robinson deal.

Having computed all this, the question now becomes, what can we do with it? Well, first of all, we could make it more accurate, and more complete. The rating system I have devised is a good one, but by no means perfect. Second, we could use it, I would hope, to evaluate trading strategies. Beyond saying that one should trade with San Francisco whenever possible, I really haven’t reviewed my own data with an eye to such strategic questions as, “What kind of risk are you really taking in trading an established player for a hot prospect?” and “Is it a solid strategy to try to trade for a star player coming off a bad year?” and “How safe is it to trade an everyday player for a pitcher?”

This method is simply a tool, and a rather crude one at that. I’m not saying we would learn anything by analyzing these questions, but we couldn’t get any more stupid. We have a possible method here of getting answers. Unlike ballplayers and managers, general managers have never had a “record” to contend with before. Now, the record book has one more chapter.

The top major league winning streaks by pitchers for one season are the National League streaks of 19 games by Marquard in 1912 and by Tim Keefe of an earlier New York NL Championship team in 1888.  Hoss Radbourn won 18 consecutive games (all complete games in consecutive starts) for Providence NL in 1884. The top streak in the majors since 1920 is the l7-game streak put together by Elroy Face, a fork-balling reliever for the 1959 Pittsburgh Pirates, who finished 4th in the National League. Face won his first 17 decisions that year, finishing with an 18-1 record. He had won his last 5 decisions of 1958 for a 2-year streak of 22 relief wins. Face was helped by several late-inning or extra-inning Pirate rallies which helped him avert defeats.

The American League record winning streak is 16 consecutive games, shared by 4 different pitchers. They are Smokey Joe Wood (34-5) of Boston AL and Walter Johnson (32-12) of Washington AL, both in the Marquard year of 1912, Lefty Grove (31-4) of Philadelphia AL in 1931, and Schoolboy Rowe’s 16-game winning streak in 1934 for the pennant-winning Tigers when he was 24-8. Besides the 19-game streak by Marquard, 3 National League pitchers have notched 16-game streaks since 1900. Carl Hubbell (26-6) of New York did it in 1936, Ewell Blackwell (22-8) turned the trick for a 5th place Cincinnati outfit in 1947, and Jack Sanford (24-7) reached the sweet-16 plateau for the 1962 San Francisco Giants. Hubbell, in fact, reeled off an amazing 2- year string of 24 consecutive victories (two more than Face later compiled) in National League competition, winning his last 16 in 1936 and his first 8 in 1937. He was 26-6 in 1936 and 22-8 in 1937. Hubbell won 21 of his 24 games in starting roles while leading the New York Giants to consecutive pennants.

Several items are worthy of note in the accompanying tables. The year 1977 was only the second year since 1900 which failed to produce at least one streak in either league of 9 consecutive games. A total of four NL pitchers (Christenson and Lonborg of the Phils, John of the Dodgers, and Seaver of the Reds) and two AL hurlers (Guidry of the Yankees and Pattin of the Royals) put together 8-game streaks. The only previous year without a streak of at least 9 games was 1933, when Fred Frankhouse (16-15) of the Boston Braves and Earl Whitehill (22-8) of the Washington Senators paced their respective loops with streaks of only 8 wins.

Three leaders’ streaks represented all of their decisions in undefeated seasons. They are Joe Pate of the A’s (9-0 in 1926), Tom Zachary of the Yankees (12-0 in 1929), and co-leader Ken Holtzman, Chicago Cubs (9-0 in 1967). Pate, a rookie, won all 9 of his decisions in relief after becoming one of the greatest pitchers in Texas League history. He never won another major league game as he was let go by Philadelphia Manager Connie Mack after an 0-3 record in 1927. Zachary (who won 9 of his 12 decisions as a starter) was a journeyman who pitched for several teams in both leagues and is best-remembered for yielding Babe Ruth’s 60th home run in 1927. Holtzman spent much of that 1967 season in military service after the first month, occasionally pitching after that on weekend passes. Even that way he pitched more frequently than he did for the Yankees when he was fully available in 1977. Besides Pate, Zachary, and Holtzrnan, only one other major league pitcher had an undefeated season with 9 or more wins. He was Howie Krist, 10-0 in his first full major league season in 1941 for the St. Louis Cardi nals (6 of 10 wins in relief 0. Elmer Riddle of Cincinnati, also in his first full major league year, topped Krist to become the leader that year with a season-opening streak of 11 wins en route to a 17-4 record that year.

Burt Hooton of the 1975 L.A. Dodgers, a former Chicago Cub,  came out of nowhere to win his last 12 decisions-ironically becoming  the first NL pitcher to win an even dozen in a row since Dick Rudolph of the “Miracle” Boston Braves in 1914, a team which went from last  place on July 19th to a decisive pennant victory and an upset World Series win over Connie Mack’s Athletics in 4 straight games. Steve Carlton of the Philadelphia Phillies won 15 in a row in 1972 and was 27-10 for a team which had a won-lost mark of 59-97 – the worst record in the National League! Nothing gives a manager greater satisfaction than to send out a pitcher who he knows he can count on for a victory, even under adverse circumstances. Canton’s performance that year was among the all-time best.

Most of the streak leaders are pitchers whose names are easily recognizable as being standout hurlers, but there are many exceptions.  Ike Delock of the Boston Red Sox won his first 10 decisions in 1958 on his way to a 14-8 season, with his winning streak topping the efforts of such fine pitchers as Whitey Ford, Bob Turley, Billy Pierce, Jim Bunning, and Early Wynn. The same year in the NL, an even more obscure hurler named George Witt was 9-2 and he led the league with a 7-game winning streak in a lean streak year, during a season when Warren Spahn, Lew Burdette, and Bob Friend were 20-game winners. Aside from 1958, Witt won only 2 other games in his major league career.  Yankee rookie Spec Shea led the American League with a mere 7-game streak in 1947.

Several relief pitchers were leaders or co-leaders in their leagues in various seasons. In the season when Face won 17 in a row in relief for Pittsburgh, another famous relief pitcher Hoyt Wilhelm led the American League with 9 consecutive wins. Wilhelm, however, was used primarily as a starting pitcher that year for Baltimore. Relief pitcher Luis Arroyo of the 1961 New York Yankees had a 12-game winning streak which is a one-season record for an AL relief pitcher. However, it does not appear in the accompanying tables since Whitey Ford, his teammate, won 14 consecutive games that season – several of them saved by Arroyo’s stellar relief work. Arroyo’s streak likely was overlooked that year because of the attention given Whitey Ford’s efforts to record 30 pitching wins or at least to exceed Lefty Gomez’ record of 26 for a Yankee lefty (Ford finished with 25 wins).

Besides the relief streaks of Face, Pate, and Arroyo, three other relief streaks seem worthy of mention. John (Eddie) Yuhas, a rookie relief pitcher for the St. Louis Cardinals won his last 10 decisions in a 12-2 season in 1952 to set the rookie record, but was released after going 0-0 in 2 games in 1953-never to appear in the majors again. Clarence (Butch) Metzger tied the record by winning his first 10 decisions in an 11-4 season for San Diego NL in 1976. Besides Face, Pate, and Metzger, the only reliever whose streak led both leagues was Phil Regan, the “grease-ball” specialist, who won his last 13 decisions in a 14-1 season in 1966 to play a vital role in leading the Los Angeles Dodgers to the National League pennant. Speaking of the Dodgers, the top streaks by Sandy Koufax were his 11-game streaks in 1964 and 1965.

Preacher Roe of the 1951 Brooklyn Dodgers had two 10-game streaks in his 22-3 season, the first one starting the season. The only other pitchers with two streaks of 10 or more games in the same season were Walter Johnson of the 1913 Washington Senators (10 and 14) and Dave (Boo) Ferriss of the 1946 Boston Red Sox (10 and 12). Johnson and Ferriss both started the season with their first streaks. Johnson was 36-7 in 1913 and Ferriss was 25-6 in a pennant-winning year where Boston won 41 of its first 50 games. Johnson was the leader or co-leader in top annual winning streaks a record total of five times, while Christy Mathewson, Whitey Ford, and Dave McNally led four times each.

Bob Gibson of the St. Louis Cardinals had the longest World Series winning streak, with 7 consecutive wins (all complete games) between 1964 and 1968. New York Yankee pitching greats Red Ruffing (1937-1942) and Lefty Gomez (1932-1 938) each had 6-game streaks. Gomez had a 6-0 won-lost record lifetime in the World Series; Ruffing and Gibson were each 7-2. Even though many volumes have been written about Babe Ruth, it has escaped prior notice that Ruth won his last 9 decisions as a pitcher – spread out over 15 years! The Babe won his last 4 decisions while finishing with a 9-5 record for the 1919 Boston Red Sox as a combination pitcher-outfielder. Ruth won all 5 games he pitched for the Yankees (1 in 1920, 2 in 1921, 1 in 1930, and 1 in 1933).

In the following tables, I have attempted to list the top winning streaks by pitchers in both leagues for each season since 1900. It must be noted that this was not always easy to do because of gaps in available data, and conflicting or unclear scoring rules prior to 1920. For example, the American League did not list pitchers’ wins and losses in its official day-to-day averages for 1913 to 1919 because League President Ban Johnson had felt that the won-lost stats were misleading.

Christy Mathewson of the New York Giants won 11 consecutive games in 1905, but the streak would be 16 games under present scoring rules. Mathewson was deprived of one victory when he relieved the Giant starter Luke Taylor after 3 innings and protected a 4-3 Giant lead vs. Chicago for the remainder of the game. In his previous start, he was charged with a defeat when a New York-Pittsburgh game was forfeited to Pittsburgh in the 9th inning with the score tied 5-5 when the Giants left the field and refused to return soon enough after protesting an umpire’s decision. Under today’s scoring rules, a starter must pitch at least 5 innings for a win (which Taylor did not do), and no defeats are charged in forfeits to pitchers unless the team which is the victim is trailing in the game. Thus Mathewson, who was 31-9 in 1905, would be 32-8 under today’s rules, besides having a 16-game streak instead of 11 games.

Also, Rube Marquard’s 19-game streak in 1912 would be 20 under today’s rules. Marquard relieved in the top of the 9th inning vs. the Brooklyn Dodgers in a game where the Giants led 2-1. Two baserunners who were previously on base scored on a Giant fielding error, and they trailed 3-2. Though the Giants rallied to win 4-3 in the bottom of the 9th, the win went to Giant starter Jeff Tesreau (who pitched 8 innings plus part of the 9th) under the scoring practices of the day. Also, Tim Keefe in his 19-game streak of 1888, started and hurled only 2 innings in one of his victories.

Here is the annual list of pitchers’ winning streak leaders in each major league since 1900 based on the best information available:

LONGEST WINNING STREAKS BY PITCHERS, EACH SEASON (1900-1977)

Note: (S) denotes that the streak started the season.

(F) denotes that the streak ended the season.

(R) denotes that the entire streak was in relief.

At least 36 games have been forfeited in the 77 years covered here. Of these 36 games the losing team (the one with the fewer runs) won only four by forfeit. The home team was awarded nine of these contests. In seven games the score was tied at the time of the forfeit.  The New York Giants have been involved nine times with four victories. Baltimore lost all five games they were involved in, including four in 1901-02.

On opening day 1907 a game was forfeited, as was one on the final day of the 1971 season. On two occasions the games didn’t even start. The first game of a doubleheader was forfeited on two different times, with the second game being played. Three were night games.

Twenty games were forfeited in the first ten years of this century, which means the next 67 years saw only 16. There was not one forfeit in the decade of the l960s. The American League went 30 years, from 1941 to 1971, without a forfeit.

Twenty-five umpires have awarded forfeits with Tom Connolly handing out five of them in three years. Thirty-five of these games were awarded on the spot by the umpire, the other decision was made almost two weeks after the game ended and a protest was made.

Four games went into extra innings, and 11 didn’t go far enough to be regulation games, so the statistics were not put in the official records.

The first American League forfeit game was played May 2, 1901  at Chicago, only days after the league began operating. Rain began to fall after the visiting Detroit team took the lead in the top of the ninth with a five run outburst. Clark Griffith’s home-town boys decided to stall, hoping umpire Tom Connolly would call the game so he could get out of the rain. This would wash out the runs scored in the top of the ninth and the White Sox would win in eight innings. But, as in future games, the umpire would not put up with the delaying tactics and the game was forfeited to Detroit.

One of the largest scores on record was run up June 9, 1901 in a game between the New York Giants and Cincinnati Reds. The Giants had piled up 25 runs and 31 hits, a modern major league record for hits in nine innings. The Reds’ bats hadn’t been idle as they scored 13 runs. With the score favoring the Giants 25 to 13 in the last of the ninth, the fans were bored and started home, many going on the field to reach the exits and the game couldn’t continue. With only one out to go Cincinnati was a good bet to lose so the fans made sure of it when they caused the forfeit.

In 1902 the New York Giants were owned by Andrew Freedman, a New York real estate man and Tammany Hall politician, and the club was doing poorly. To get better players he bought the Baltimore Orioles American League club on July 16, 1902. Immediately four players were transferred to the Giants in the other league and two others were released.  The Orioles had a home game with St. Louis the next day, but, when time came for the game Baltimore had no team. The St. Louis players took to the field and umpire Caruthers waited five minutes for the home team to show up, then forfeited to St. Louis when the Orioles remained absent.  It was the only forfeit the Browns were involved in during a half century of play.

In Cleveland in 1903 Detroit put an old black ball in play when Cleveland was at bat and the Naps wanted it thrown out of the game. Umpire Connolly couldn’t see anything wrong in using the ball, but Nap Lajoie did and he took the ball and threw it over the grandstand. The umpire told him he shouldn’t have done it and forfeited the game to Detroit in the eleventh inning.

The Giants forfeited to St. Louis October 4, 1904 in the fourth inning when, after three of their players had been banished by umpire Johnstone, McGraw was slow replacing them on the field. One paper reported the Giants didn’t have enough players to make a full nine after the three had been ejected.

The second forfeit game that didn’t start was scheduled for the Polo Grounds August 7, 1906 with the Chicago Cubs the visitors. During the game of the day before, umpire Jimmy Johnstone had made some decisions that aroused both teams against him. When Johnstone and Bob Emslie reached the ball park Johnstone was told he could not enter the grounds The Giants didn’t want him as an umpire after his performance of the day before. Emslie’s entrance was not barred so he went inside a short distance then retreated, refusing to take part in the game if his partner was refused admittance. Then Johnstone forfeited the game to the Cubs.

Inside the grounds McGraw wanted the game run his way with each team picking a player to form an umpire team. He talked this over with Frank Chance the Chicago manager. McGraw picked his utility man, Sam Strang, to be one of the arbiters, but Chance, after talking to Charles Murphy, president of the Chicago Cubs, who was in the stands, declined to appoint a Cub player to work with Strang. He said the forfeit had already been announced and he took his players off the field to the clubhouse.

Strang, McGraw’s umpire, forfeited the game to the Giants on McGraw’s orders. Now both teams claimed the forfeit. The next day, National League President Harry Pulliam upheld Johnstone’s forfeit decision giving the game to the Cubs because the New York club wouldn’t let the umpire in the park. The Giants appealed this decision, but it was a waste of time.

On opening day at the Polo Grounds in 1907, the New York club didn’t have any police in the park as the league rules say they should. Fans started to leave the game in the eighth inning, with the score Philadelphia 3 and New York 0, by walking across the field to the nearest exit gate. This delayed the game, even though umpire Bill Klem tried to hurry them off the field, but the fans jeered him. At the start of the ninth many more fans went on the field and some players were surrounded as was Klem at home plate. The umpire waited for the field to be cleared, but soon gave up and forfeited to the visiting team from Philadelphia.

We have one game in which the fans, players, park employees, and police all joined together in a riot. This was at Detroit June 13, 1924, the last of a three game series, one in which ill will between the clubs showed from the first game. In the ninth, with one out, the lid blew off. Bert Cole, Tiger relief pitcher, had been bombed and in the final inning the first two batters were targets for him. He made Babe Ruth duck from a pitch, before fouling out, and hit the next batter, Bob Meusel, in the back. Meusel flung down his bat and rushed for Cole, threw a punch at him but missed. Two of the umpires grabbed Meusel and held him. Detroit Manager Ty Cobb ran in from center field and immediately got into an argument with Ruth, who said the Detroit hurler was trying to bean the Yankees. Umpire Ormsby pushed the Babe away from Cobb. The police were on the field and things seemed to have quieted down. Then the fans began jumping from the stands to the field. A general row developed, while the police were trying to get the Yankee players safely to the club house. Fans were all over the field by this time. The players did get safely off the field and into the shelter of the locker room, but the fans wouldn’t leave the playing field. Umpire Billy Evans realized the only thing to do was forfeit the game to New York.

Ducky Medwick, then with the St. Louis Cardinals, lost a home run in a game that was forfeited at Philadelphia, June 6, 1937, before five innings were played. This was the second game. The first one had been delayed for an hour and a half by rain. The nightcap began shortly after 5:30 p.m. and Sunday games couldn’t be played after 6:59. The first inning must have taken a long time to complete, with the Cardinals scoring five times and the Phillies twice. With two out and the Cardinals leading 8 to 2 in the top of the fifth, and the curfew fast approaching, the Philadelphia players were stalling, hoping the umpire would cry out, “Stopped by the curfew,” but instead the umpire screamed, “forfeit,” and St. Louis was the winner. When the season ended Medwick and Mel Ott were tied for the National League home run title with 31 each. This was the only year Medwick came close to the home run title.

The strangest story of all in this narrative of forfeit games is the one the Boston Red Sox played at Washington August 15, 1941. Rain began in the fifth inning and increased so that the umpire halted the game at the end of the seventh. The players went to their locker rooms and the umpire ordered the infield covered. The ground crew couldn’t be found, even with the help of the Washington management. The rain came down for another 30 minutes before stopping, leaving the field a soggy mess. The umpires saw that play was impossible and called the game with Washington the winner 6 to 3 in seven innings. The next day, August 16, Boston protested the game to the American League office where William Harridge, the league president, took it under advisement and everybody waited. Then, on August 28, almost two weeks after the game was played, Harridge issued a statement saying that the game of August 15, between Boston and Washington, was forfeited to the Red Sox. He called it “the case of the missing ground-keeper” and said the home team was responsible for the care of the grounds and having a ground crew available and under the orders of the umpires.

Anyone who has supervised a group of children on an outing or school trip can probably sympathize with the park employees who were at the Polo Grounds for the game between the Boston Braves and Giants, September 26, 1942, when kids were admitted to the park free if they brought some scrap metal for the war effort. The youngsters behaved until the bottom of the eighth when, with the Giants leading 5 to 2, some of the boys went onto the field. The rest of them, still in the stands, saw this and, perhaps picturing themselves as big-time ball players, they quickly went over the fences, onto the field where they caused so much confusion that umpire Sears just had to forfeit the game to Boston.

Warren Spahn pitched this game for the Braves in his rookie season. An oddity of his 1942 record is that, of the four games he pitched in, he had one complete game, this one of September 26, but no wins and no losses.

The Washington fans knew that the final game of the 1971 season would be the end of the Senators in that city and the team would be in Texas to start the next one. So on the closing day fans came to the game bitter at Bob Short, the teams’ owner. In the top of the ninth the score was Washington 7 New York 5 and only one more Yankee out needed to end the game when the fans started coming on the field and soon the area was crowded with them. The game couldn’t continue and was forfeited to New York, one of the few times the losing team won by forfeit. The fans wanted souvenirs and the field was soon a mess. They dug up home plate, took the bags from the base paths, ripped off parts of the score board and left the playing area in bad shape.

A promotional gimmick to attract fans was “Beer Night” at Municipal Stadium, Cleveland, that drew almost twice as many as expected the night of June 4, 1974. All the beer they wanted for a dime a cup was the bait. Early in the game the fans, in small groups, started going on the field. Some were caught by the police, but this didn’t stop others from doing the same thing. A rally by the Indians in the last of the ninth, that tied the score, whipped the crowd into a frenzy and they surged on the field. Some surrounded Jeff Burroughs of Texas in rightfield and tried to get his cap and glove. Seeing this, players from both benches rushed to Burroughs’ aid and they all got back to their benches where they waited for the field to be cleared.  After some minutes peace seemed to be restored and the game was ready to resume when more trouble broke out on the field and umpire Nestor Chylak forfeited the game to Texas.

Baltimore finished the 1977 season tied with the Boston Red Sox for second place in the American League East Division with 97 wins and 64 losses.  One of these losses was forfeited to the Toronto Blue Jays the night of September 15 at Toronto with the Orioles losing 4 to 0 after 4½ innings. If Baltimore had played the game under protest and gone on to win they would have had second place all to themselves and more money to split among the players. But at the game, the Orioles sided with their manager and gave up the game, declaring one small area of the field was dangerous because it was covered by a small tarpaulin held down loosely by bricks.

Two other games almost made this list. Two contests that were forfeited, but, on appeal, the umpires’ decision was overruled. On August 30, 1913 the Giants were declared winner by forfeit at Philadelphia. The fans in the center field bleachers had been waving their hats in the batters line of vision and New York objected.  The fans were asked to move out of the center field bleachers, but refused to and the umpire forfeited to the Giants.  Philadelphia appealed to the league president, Lynch, and he sided with them, declaring Philadelphia the winner as they were leading 8 to 6 at the time of the forfeit. New York appealed this to the Board of Directors and President Lynch was overruled and the game was ordered played to a finish, which was done with the Phils the winner 8 to 6.

The other game was played at Fenway Park, Sunday, September 3, 1939, with the Yankees winning by forfeit after the fans littered the field making it unplayable. The score at the time was tied at five-all.  Boston protested the forfeit decision to the American League president.

“Harridge held that no blame could be placed on the players or officials of the Boston club and that the demonstration of the fans was beyond the control of the club. Therefore he ruled against the forfeit which was made by umpire Cal Hubbard.” This statement was in The Sporting News, September 14, 1939. The game was ordered replayed.

This statement of William Harridge, American League president, is surprising if we go back to August 21, 1949 at Philadelphia.  In the top of the ninth the Giants led 4 to 2. Richie Ashburn, Blue Jays center fielder, raced for a line drive off the bat of Joe Lafata, dived and grabbed the ball as he tumbled over on the grass. Umpire George Barr signaled safe hit, trapped ball.  Philadelphia players and fans screamed at the decision and the field was littered by the fans with everything they could throw. This caused a forfeit.

Here were two games during which the home fans litter the field making it unplayable. One game went into the records as a forfeit, the other was ordered replayed. It just shows that decisions on forfeit games are no more predictable than the actions that cause them.

MAJOR LEAGUE FORFEIT GAMES, 1901-77

(H) – Home Team

The official score of all these games is 9 to 0.

Turner, from Nolesville, Tennessee, toiled for four years in the Piedmont League, for three years in the Pacific Coast League and played four years with Indianapolis in the American Association without impressing big league scouts. On his 32nd birthday, August 6, 1936, however, he shut out the Minneapolis Millers as a Boston Bees scout watched from the grandstand.

With a “what have we got to lose” attitude, the Bees acquired the righthanded hurler. Turner, who worked in the off-season as a milkman, barely made the team in spring training in 1937. A spot on the roster opened up for him when another pitcher became homesick and was sent home.

Fette, a strapping 200-pounder from Alma, Missouri, began his minor league career as a 20-game winner with Pueblo in 1928 but had few winning seasons thereafter. He labored in the American Association for eight years, first with Kansas City and then St. Paul, before attracting the attention of the Bees by winning 25 games with the Twin City club in 1936.

Neither Turner nor Fette were overpowering pitchers. They fanned few batters but each had a good curve ball and control. Nevertheless, it came as a stunning surprise to see both hurlers win 20 games for the fifth place Braves. Only two other hurlers won that many and they pitched for the pennant-winning New York Giants. Carl Hubbell won 22 and Cliff Melton 20. The latter was also a rookie, giving the National League a remarkable first-year pitching staff in 1937.

Turner, who compiled a 20-11 won-lost record, led the league with a sparkling 2.38 earned run average and 24 complete games. Fette posted a 20-10 log, had 23 complete games, and tied Turner and Lee Grissom with five shutouts. One was a 1-0 whitewashing of the Phillies in 13 innings. Deacon Danny MacFayden also pitched well for the Bees, compiling a 2.93 ERA while winning 14 and losing 14. Veteran Guy Bush had a poor season with 8 and 15. Only two Boston hurlers had won 20 games in the previous 20 years-Joe Oeschger in 1921 and Ben Cantwell in 1933-so the double dividend from Turner and Fette was much appreciated by manager Bill McKecknie.

On the other hand, the Bees finished last in batting with a team average of .247. While Joe Medwick was hitting .374, Johnny Mize .364, and Gabby Hartnett and Paul Waner .354, the Bees had to rely on Gene Moore with a .283 mark and Tony Cuccinello with .271.  Rookie Vince DiMaggio batted .256. Catcher Al Lopez hit only .204, but he did a marvelous job with the rookie pitchers.

Fette won only 11 games in 1938 and 10 in 1939 when he led the NL with six shutouts. He pitched two scoreless innings in the 1939 All-Star game, but later that season hurt his arm. He didn’t win a game after that. After an absence of several years he came back to hurl in five games for the Boston NL club in 1945.

Turner also wasn’t able to match his initial major league season, but he did stay around longer than Fette. He was 14-18 in 1938 and 14-7 with Cincinnati in 1940, and pitched relief for the Yankees during the War years. He played in two World Series, with the Reds in 1940 and the Yankees in 1942. He later coached for 23 years with those two clubs.

Considering what took place in their careers before 1937 and what took place after 1937, that one season certainly stood out as the high point for these two rookie phenoms.

During the early part of this century rosters were dotted with such colorful names as Crazy Schmidt, Candy LaChance, Boileryard Clarke, ZaZa Harvey, Ducky Holmes, and Sea Lion Hall whose magnificent voice could be heard from one end of the ballpark to the other.

Some nicknames have been obvious-Red Rolfe, Blondy Ryan, Whitey Lockman, Pinky Whitney, Darky Clift, Fats Fothergill, Skinny Brown, Jumbo Brown, Lefty Grove, and Stubby Overmire. Some have meant the reverse as Tiny Bonham, a 6’2″, 215-pound pitcher, Cupid Childs who in no way resembled the love god, and Little Eva Lange who was indeed everything the heroine of Uncle Tom’s Cabin was not.

The elderstatesman of the club was Pop (Pop Anson) while the youngster was Kid (Nichols), Schoolboy (Rowe and Hoyt), or Babe.  Ruth was certainly not the first to be tabbed Babe as it was common to call a rookie, especially a very young one, “Babe”. In fact there were some well known Babes prior to Ruth. Babe Adams, a star Pirate pitcher, won three games in the 1909 World Series.

In his excellent book on Babe Ruth, Marshall Smelser pointed out that when George Herman Ruth reported to the Baltimore Oriole spring camp a coach told the veteran players they better not haze him for he was owner Jack Dunn’s Babe. This meant he was Dunn’s favorite young player. After the success of Ruth a player who was a hard hitter became Babe and we had Babe Herman, Young, Phelps, Dahlgren, and Barna.

The player who wore glasses was “Specs”. Specs Torporcer, the first infielder to wear glasses, broke in with the Cards in 1921 and the following season combined with Rogers Hornsby to post the highest combined batting average of a keystone combination ever seen in the National League. Torporcer was a remarkable man who had a long career in the game that took him to the front office of the Red Sox.  His eventual blindness ended his baseball career; but he has continued to write and lecture on the game. Spec Shea got his nickname not from eye glasses but because of his freckles.

If you came from Texas you had to be Tex. There was Tex Carleton and Tex Vache, the only player to hit .300 his first season in the American League and then drop from sight. Other geographical nicknames were Bama Rowell, Jersey Joe Stripp, Arky Vaughan, and Casey Stengel. Casey was from Kansas City whose abbreviation “K.C.” sounded like “Casey”.

If dad came from Ireland you were either Irish or Mickey; however neither Irish Meusel nor Mickey Cochrane were Irish, they just looked like they were. The same was true of Jap Barbeau. Those of German descent were “Hans”-Wagner and Lobert or “Dutch”-Leonard and Ruether. The German word is Deutsch so “Dutch” became a corruption of it. Others were Frenchy Bordagaray, Greek George, Turk Lown and Swede Hansen.

A boy with a rural origin was either Cy or Rube. There are two different versions of Cy Young’s name. One of rural Ohio beginning and the second that he was thought to throw as fast as a cyclone, therefore he was “Cy”. Rube was the circus term for a hick and when lefty Rube Waddell turned out to be such an eccentric, any left-handed pitcher was thought to be a nut and became a “Rube” as witnessed by Rube Marquard, Bressler and Walberg.

The talkative were Gabby, Street and Hartnett; while if you tended to tell people how good you were you were Braggo Roth (who may have had something to boast about for his seven homers in 1915 led the league) or Orator O’Rourke. Lippy Leo Durocher is said to have been named by Babe Ruth when the brash rookie reported to the Yankees.

The number of feminine names given to the oldtimers is baffling. Baby Doll Jacobson earned his when in the minors he opened a game with a homer. An enthusiastic lady fan yelled “Oh you Baby Doll” and he was Baby Doll ever after. His recent obituary in The Sporting News pointed out that many years after he retired when he returned to St. Louis he found no one ever heard of William Jacobson; but many remembered Baby Doll Jacobson.

Fred Leib sheds light on Tilly Walker and Ginger Beaumont. Fred stated that Walker, a slugger with a great throwing arm, walked like a girl and was called Tilly; while Beaumont had ginger colored hair. Candy Cummings, given credit for the invention of the curveball, and president of the first minor league, was called Candy because the confectionary was considered the finest thing available; and his admirers must have felt that he was the finest pitcher. As for Sadie McMahon, a pre-1900 30-game winner, or Kitty Bransfield, well, their names defy explanation.

Our grandfathers seemed to take more delight in the comics than we do and named their favorite ball players after their comic favorites.  There was Boob McNair, after Boob McNutt; Nemo Leibold for Little Nemo; Popeye Mahaffey for the famous sailor, and Flash Gordon after the character from 2000 A.D. John McGraw was called Muggsy after a popular cartoon character; however if the dictatorial little manager was ever called that to his face he would forcefully show his displeasure.

Baseball has had hundreds of “Docs”. There was usually a Doc who was a heavy in a gangster movie; and the same was true of the third rate Western movies where the local physician was always Doc; however why there were so many in baseball is hard to explain. Doc Crandall earned his label by being one of the great early rescue artists. The writers labeled him the “Doctor of Lost Games”; while Doc Cramer, the fine outfielder, loved to ride in the buggy of the family doctor as he made his rounds and aspired to become a Doc himself.

True Docs were Doc White, the fine pitcher; Doc Farrell, a much traveled shortstop; and Doc Prothro, father of NFL coach Tommy Prothro, who were graduate dentists. Physicians were Doc Lavan, Doc Powers, and Doc Brown, and Doc Medich is nearing the completion of his studies.

The animal kingdom has always been well represented with Flea Clifton, Rabbit Maranville and Warstler; Crab Burkett and Evers (for their less than winning personalities); Oyster Tommy Burns who sold them in the off season; Bears Garcia and Hutchinson; Mule Haas (even his wife called him Mule) Birdie Tebbetts for his high pitched voice, Goose Goslin; Ducky Medwick; Moose Solters, Dropo, McCormick, Skrowron, and Alexander, Hawk Harrelson; and Ox Eckhardt, who played both major league baseball and football.

Even Catfish Hunter cannot claim originality for his name as George “Catfish” Metkovich was called that a generation earlier. A good outfielder in the 40′ and 5 0’s, Metkovieh once stepped on a catfish while fishing, hurting his foot and earning a nickname.

There were some automatic names. If your name was Rhodes, you became Dusty; if it was Campbell you became Soup.

Some nicknames had more originality such as The Yankee Clipper, Old Reliable, The Meal Ticket, The Gray Eagle, The Big Six (a powerful and famous train of the period) and The Big Train.

Other unique nicknames were Hot Potato Hamlin for he juggled a ball before he pitched it as if it were a hot potato, Boom Boom Beck who once in frustration threw the ball up against the short right field fence in Baker Bowl causing a loud crash, Poosh Em Up Tony Lazzeri whose large Italian following exorted him to Poosh Em Up over the wall, Bad News Hale who was a good hitter and bad news to the other team. Hack Wilson and Miller were named after the famous wrestler Hackenschmidt; while Firpo Marberry resembled Luis Firpo the great boxer.

The most interesting phenomena of the nickname is seen in the MacMillan Encyclopedia of Baseball where the first name has been replaced by the nickname. Several Hall of Famers-Pie Traynor, Three Finger Brown, Gabby Hartnett, Dizzy Dean, Dazzy Vance, Kiki Cuyler, Pete Alexander, Red Ruffing, Heinie Manush, and Lefty Gomez are alphabetized by nickname rather than given name. In other words, don’t look for Brown under Mordecai but under Three Finger. You can be sure that very few Yankee fans could tell you who the battery of

Edward and Lawrence was; but every fan in the nation knows the Yankee Hall of Fame duo of Whitey and Yogi.

A surprising number of well-known players with long service at a regular position have taken a turn on the hill and for various reasons.  Sometimes it was expediency; sometimes it was an emergency; sometimes it was an opportunity to really see if the player could pitch; and sometimes it was a late season stunt. It might be of interest to elaborate on some of these occasions.

Ty Cobb, for example, pitched in 3 official games, giving up 6 hits and 2 runs in a total of 5 innings.  Two of these outings came in season-ending games against the St. Louis Browns where the rival pitcher was his chief batting rival, George Sisler. Of course, Sisler had better credentials as a hurler, having been a part-time pitcher in 1915-16, once winning a 1-0 victory over Walter Johnson. In the 1918 game on September 1, Sisler pitched a scoreless frame against the Tigers, and, facing Cobb, hit a double and scored the only run off him in the two innings. In the 1925 game, on October 4, Cobb pitched a perfect inning and Sisler was not scored on in two innings. Both Cobb and Sisler were managers of their respective teams as well.

Another manager who took to the mound was Lou Fonseca of the White Sox in 1932, but this was out of frustration with his hill corps rather than a stunt. The date was September 23 and the opposition was the Indians in Cleveland. Young Ed Walsh was batted out by the Tribe, but the White Sox had nearly closed the margin, trailing 8-6 in the fifth. However, Bill Chamberlain, the third Chicago pitcher, gave up five runs in the 6th before he could get anyone out. In disgust, Manager Fonseca yanked him, and went to the mound himself. There were two Indians on base but they died there as the new hurler got Frank Pytlak to foul out, Wes Ferrell, the rival pitcher, to fly out, and Johnny Burnett to ground out.

Fonseca admitted many years later that this was one of his prouder moments, but he decided to quit while he was ahead and had Chad Kimsey pitch the rest of the game.

Manager Joe Cronin of the Red Sox never inserted himself as a pitcher but was not averse to sending in regular players. On August 24, 1940, the Tigers were leading the Red Sox 11-1 in the first game of a twinbill at Boston when Cronin called in leftfielder Ted Williams to pitch in the 8th. The Boston Globe said it was in response to repeated requests over the season from the young outfielder, who that day could do nothing at bat against Tommy Bridges.  According to the reporter: “The appearance of Williams on the mound marked Joe Cronin’s annual insult to his regular mound corps, as well as another exhibition of the Sox skipper’s eye for showmanship. He did it a year ago with Jimmie Foxx and two years ago with Doc Cramer.”

Ted handled himself pretty well. Frank Croucher led off with a single, but when Bridges tried to bunt him to second, Williams grabbed the ball and retired the lead man with a “bullet peg.” In the ninth Pinky Higgins and Hank Greenberg singled and one run scored when Charlie Gelbert at third juggled a double play grounder. Ted’s big moment came when he fanned Rudy York on three pitches after the Tiger first baseman had knocked in 5 runs with a homer, double, and two singles.

The Red Sox had an interesting line-up that game. When Williams went to the mound, he was replaced in leftfield by pitcher Jim Bagby, who had as garden mates Dom DiMaggio and Doc Cramer. Cronin played short, Bobby Doerr second, and Lou Finney was at first while Jimmie Foxx was the starting catcher. But “Double X” was also scheduled to catch the second game so departed before Ted took to the hill.  It ruined a chance for baseball’s greatest “home run battery,” but from a historical standpoint, all was not lost. Joe Glenn was behind the plate for Williams, and he was the same journeyman backstop who caught the last game pitched by Babe Ruth when he beat the Red Sox in 1933.  Glenn never made it into a World Series with the Yankees, but he did have the distinction of catching two of baseball’s greatest hitters.

Another pitcher-outfielder exchange took place on the last day of the 1952 season in the National League. That was the year Stan Musial was leading Frankie Baumholtz of the Cubs in the batting race. On the mound were Paul Minner of the Cubs and Harvey Haddix of the Cards.  When Baumholtz came up in the first inning, Musial, a pitcher many years before in the minors, went to the mound from centerfield.  Haddix shifted to rightfield and Hal Rice went to center. Baumholtz, who was a lefthand swinger, batted right against Stan and lined the ball to Solly Hemus at third, who made an error on the play. Haddix then returned to the mound and Musial to centerfield. Paul Minner shut out the Cards 6-0. Musial had one hit and ended the season at .336, Baumholtz went hitless and ended at .3 25.

The most recent example of a regular player actually winning a game took place in 1968. Rocky Colavito was playing his final year in the majors and volunteered to help out the Yankees in a period when they were besieged with a series of doubleheaders compounded by a 19-inning game. In the first game of a twinbill against the Tigers on August 25, 1968, Rocky pitched 2 2/3 innings of scoreless ball in a period when the Yanks rallied and went ahead to win 6-5.  Colavito got the victory. Ten years before, the strong-armed outfielder had pitched three scoreless innings for Cleveland so his ERA stands at 0.00 for the two games.

Colavito pitched very well compared to most of the other spot performers. Others who showed a flash of talent included Jimmie Foxx, a war-time fill-in for the Phils, who had a nifty 1.52 ERA, George Kelly, who had one good outing for the Giants in 1917, and Myril Hoag, who gave up no runs in three brief stints. After Hoag left the majors he had good success as a twirler in the lower minors.

Of those who might like to forget that they ever appeared on the mound, the names of Red Kress, Mark Koenig, Vic Davalillo, and Larry Biittner could be cited. Davalhlo never retired a batter in two outings, and Larry Biittner of the Cubs, who did strike out three batters in the one inning he pitched in 1977, also got banged for six runs. As might be expected under the circumstances, the primary characteristic of most of the one-time hurlers was wildness. Their walks outnumbered their strikeouts by a substantial margin.

Listed below are some of the long-service stars who, for one reason or another, got into a box score or two as a hurler. The list includes two, Cesar Tovar and Bert Campaneris, who did it while playing all nine positions in one game. Two others, Bus Mertes and Jack Rothrock, did it while playing all nine positions in one season. Most of the hurlers pitched only one inning or so but note that while outfielder Hank Leiber of the Giants pitched in only one game, he went the route and lost in 1942, his final season.

Even though we later moved from Baltimore, I still kept track of the International League and the Orioles in particular by reading the Sporting News.  In 1947, the Orioles had a bad team and were mired deep in the second division. Thus, most of the fans’ attention was riveted on the thrilling three team pennant race among Montreal, Jersey City, and those same Syracuse Chiefs. By vacationing each summer in Central New York, I had lost much of my contact with the Orioles; but, ironically, I had picked up the thread of what was happening in the pennant race by reading the Syracuse newspapers and listening to the local broadcasts. It was awkward for me to get my perspective through the prism of Syracuse as the home team instead of Baltimore. But those 1947 Chiefs were an exciting ball club.

Syracuse and all of Central New York were baseball crazy in the summer of `47. One had to begin and end Syracuse’s 1947 International League season with one name- Hank Sauer. Hank was playing left field for the Chiefs and was leading the league in everything but broken bats. He was destined to become the Sporting News’s minor league player of the year. All over Central New York, people were talking about Sauer and the Syracuse ball club. It whetted my appetite to see a game, so my dad took me over to MacArthur Stadium in Syracuse to see the 1947 version of the Syracuse Chiefs. It struck me as odd to see the Chiefs clad in the white uniform of the home team. Their opponents for that doubleheader were the seemingly invincible Montreal Royals. The Royals were managed by Clay Hopper and appeared well on their way to a third consecutive pennant. At the time (mid-June), it seemed that Jersey City and Syracuse would furnish only token competition for the high-charged Royals. The veteran Jewel Ens was the Syracuse skipper and he had an interesting ball club at his disposal.  Future major leaguers and veteran Triple A minor leaguers combined to present the fans of the area with a genuinely superior brand of baseball. Nevertheless, outside of several members of the pitching staff, only Sauer would spend any appreciable time in the major leagues subsequent to the 1947 season.

The veteran Eddie Shokes played first for the Chiefs. He was a slick fielder but not much of a power hitter. The rest of the infield consisted of Frank Drews at second combining with shortstop Claude Corbitt to complete many double-plays; and, of course, the veteran third-baseman Al Rubeling (a Syracuse fixture). While Sauer was in leftfield, the Chiefs had two classy fielders who shared the Centerfield position: Jodie Beeler and Frank Davis. In right field was the veteran Al (Dutch) Mele, destined to have an extremely productive year of his own (.3 17, 20 homers, and 100 RBIs). Dick West and Dick Bosiak did the catching. The Syracuse pitching staff was a good one. It consisted of two future Cincinnati Reds: Howie Fox (19-9) and Herm Wehmeier (15-8), along with veteran minor leaguer Jim Prendergast (the league’s only 20-game winner), and Alex Mustaikis, Dixie Howell, Dutch Schultz, and John Bebber. When this team took the field, I couldn’t help but be impressed.

But their competition that day was the mighty Montreal Royals of 1947. Clay Hopper’s outfit looked formidable. Even their uniforms (visiting team gray coupled with Royal blue) gave them a particularly ominous appearance. This team was the immediate successor to the one that featured the sensational 1946 debut of Jackie Robinson.  Jackie was the hero of the `46 pennant winners and the batting champion of that year, as well as the instrument of Branch Rickey’s attempt to break baseball’s age-old color line. This year’s club had another bright and upcoming black star-catcher Roy Campanella. By mid-June, “Campy” had already established himself as the league’s premier defensive catcher as well as a potentially powerful home run hitter.  Jackie Robinson’s successor at second base was the veteran Gil Torres (picked up off of the Washington Senators’ roster). The shortstop was Al Campanis who would go far in the Dodger organization in several capacities. Third base was handled by Johnny Welaj. At first base was their only legitimate power hitter, Ed Stevens (28 Hrs and 107 RBIs). The outfield consisted of four players who played about equal time. Butch Woyt was in center; Dick Whitman played left; Walt Sessi had a good year as a part-time performer; and the once highly regarded prospect-Earl  Naylor-held down right  field. Their pitching was comprised of the following: Ed Heusser, veteran major leaguer, led the way with a 19-3 record; Jack Banta (15-5) and Al Gerheauser (15-12) ably backed him up along with John Van Cuyk, Chet Kehn, Rube Melton, Erv Palica, Joe Smolko, and Dick Mlady.

This team wiped out the Chiefs in a doubleheader. Nevertheless, even in a losing cause, Hank Sauer made his considerable presence felt by hitting a home run in each game and driving in six runs for the day.  By the end of the day, he was far ahead of anybody else in each of the three Triple Crown categories: batting average, home runs, and runs batted in. Though I had been impressed with the winning Royals, I came away from the game absolutely convinced I had just seen one of the more destructive hitters in the game.

It’s hard to describe the aura surrounding Sauer in the middle of the summer of 1947. The effect he had on Central New York was electric. He became a source of civic (and area) pride the likes of which Syracuse would not experience again until their national championship football team of 1959. I left the park that day convinced that the Montreal Royals would run away and hide from the rest of the league and that Hank Sauer would win the league’s triple crown handily. I proved to be wrong in both assumptions.

In early August my family and I returned to Wilmington, Delaware (our vacation over), and my direct contact with Sauer’s progress was terminated. Even at such a tender age, I was an inveterate reader of the Sporting News, the Bible of baseball information. I could hardly believe my eyes! Jersey City suddenly in mid-August had made a race of it in the pennant chase; and, also suddenly, Sauer seemed not quite as imposing as earlier in the season.

From reading the Sporting News, I found out that there was considerable bad blood between the Jersey City and the Montreal clubs (completely extraneous to the newly red-hot pennant race). It seems that the Jersey City manager, Bruno Betzel, had piloted the Royals to the pennant in 1945, and had naturally assumed that he would be re-hired for the `46 season. But Mr. Rickey had other ideas and elected Clay Hopper for his manager. This embittered Betzel and as his Little Giants from Jersey began to close in on the slumping Royals towards the end of the season, he relished the prospect of sweet revenge. There were even reports that he offered cash bonuses to his players if they could upend the Royals in the pennant race. League president Frank Shaughnessy had to reprimand Betzel in public for such an indiscretion.

But beyond these pennant rumblings, there was also the prospect of Sauer no longer being a shoo-in for the league’s triple crown. Rochester’s Vernal (Nippy) Jones had temporarily taken the batting average lead away from Sauer and he and Hank would alternately lose and re-gain the lead through most of August. Also, Baltimore’s Howie Moss had come out of nowhere to seriously challenge Sauer’s once prohibitive lead in home runs. This event struck a responsive chord in me. I vividly remembered Moss as one of the leading sluggers on Baltimore’s `44 champions. Well, he was playing again for the Orioles, and on a bad ball club. All summer everything had been Sauer this and Sauer that. Now, as August waned, both sluggers (Sauer and Moss) had passed the 40 home run total. This was the first and only time that would happen in the history of the International League.

Paradoxically, the majors (in the late summer of 1947), had a comparable home run battle taking place. The Giant’s Johnny Mize, after a long early lead, was being seriously challenged (in a late-season closing rush) by Pittsburgh’s young slugger-Ralph Kiner. I was quick to note the similarity in both homer races: Mize and Sauer had had things their own way all summer; now, Kiner and Moss were coming on like gang-busters.

I had become fascinated with recent developments in the International League. Jersey City was closing fast and Moss had just passed Sauer and became the first International League player to reach the 50 home run total since 1935 when another Baltimore player, George Puccinelli, had struck for 53. I took a serious look at the 1947 Jersey City line-up. The veteran International League player Jack Graham played the first base for Betzel’s gang and set the Jersey City club home run record in 1947 with 34. He was also destined to drive in 119 runs.  Both of these totals (while impressive) would place him a distant third to Sauer and Moss. Burgess Whitehead played second base in tandem with Virgil Stallcup’s shortstop, while George Myatt held down the hot corner. They had an outfield consisting of Bill Barnacle in left, Les Layton in center, and former Oriole Felix Mackiewicz in right. Mickey Grasso and Sal Yvars did the catching. Their pitching staff was headed by Sheldon Jones (13-3) before he was re-called by New York. Others included Jake Wade (19-3), Hub Andrews, Jim Goodwin, Jack Kraus, Bob Cain, and Bill Ayers.

This team began to take off and on the last day of the season, managed to nip the Royals by a half a game. It marked one of the greatest comebacks in league history. Montreal and the entire Dodger organization were in a state of shock. Betzel had his revenge. Meanwhile Sauer himself reached the 50-homer total as the season reached its close, placing him second to Moss’s final total of 53. Nippy Jones’s .339 edged Sauer’s .338 for the batting title. The only title he was destined to win was the RBI title, finishing with 141. It was quite a performance nevertheless, earning him the League’s Most Valuable Player Award.

Those were great years-the 1940s. The war was over and the American public was determined to “return to normal.” Those communities too far away from big league cities enjoyed their own minor league entries with a fervent loyalty seldom seen today even at the major league level. It was before the advent of television and its ubiquitous reach, and before everything had to be “big league.” There were some vibrant franchises in the International League that year, and all was right with the minor league world.

The home-town Hustlers were meeting their fiercest Blue Grass League rivals, the Lexington Colts, that afternoon in their first encounter of the season. Garner’s Park should have been jumping, but with the weather showing no disposition to cooperate, only about 300 fans showed up.

Hardy loyalty paid off, though, as their rookie pitching ace Fred Toney threw a no-hitter and the Hustlers sneaked past the Colts, 1-0, on a perfectly executed squeeze play in the last inning. After nearly 70 years, they still talk about that game in Winchester.

It was no ordinary no-hitter. It went 17 innings, a feat still unchallenged as the longest no-hit game in professional baseball history.

A tall, powerful kid from Tennessee with an apparently tireless right arm, Fred was in the first full season of what was to be a highly successful pitching career. Showing eye-popping speed, precision control and unflappable cool, the big 20-year-old struck out 19, issued only one base on balls and hit one batter. Of four others who reached base on errors, one made it on Toney’s own wild throw of a dribbler back to the box. Just two runners got past first base and none saw third.

He needed everything to outlast Lexington’s starter, a newcomer named Baker, making his first effort for the Colts. Little was known about Baker and even less is remembered, since he departed the scene before the season was over, but he was almost as invincible as Toney.  If it hadn’t been for his throwaway in the 17th inning, the game might have ended in darkness with nobody the winner.

From the moment Umpire Wilson intoned “Play Ball!” and the sparse crowd set up an encouraging chatter, the hill rivals served notice they were going to be mean. Toney struck out the first two men to face him. Baker walked Winchester’s lead-off man, then started a double play to wipe him out. Campbell singled through the infield but was left on first when Ellis popped up.

Both pitchers, backed by alert defensive play, continued to mesmerize the hitters through the top of the sixth. For Lexington, Kaiser was safe in the second inning on Barney’s off-target throw and moved up on an infield out, Fieber drew the lone base on balls off Toney in the third and Stockum got aboard in the fifth when Toney threw away his infield bouncer. Neither advanced.

Goosetree drew a pass in the second and Ingles waited out another in the fifth. The former died on first and Ingles was forced at second when Kaiser came in fast to take Horn’s line drive up the middle on one hop and throw the base-runner out. Horn was safe on the fielder’s choice but Toney struck out to end the inning.

Baker faltered in the sixth but Winchester blew the opening, thanks to inept base-running and sharp Colt infield play. With one out, Chapman singled but took too long a lead off first and was trapped.  Campbell and Ellis followed with successive hits, the former taking third. Ellis promptly lit out for second and backstop Coyne put on a Convincing act of trying to head him off. His throw was intercepted by Hall and the latter’s relay back to the plate cut down Campbell trying to score on the delayed double steal.

By this time it had dawned on the crowd that Toney had a no-hitter going, and the tension closed down even lower than the threatening cloud banks. Pleas for Fred to ram the Colts’ bats down their throats alternated with breathless silences as successive batters faced him and whoops of relief when he disposed of them. Toney responded by retiring the last 14 batters in the regulation nine innings.

Meanwhile, Baker was conceding nothing. He permitted a runner in each inning, on a pair of walks and Barney’s eighth-inning safety.  One was out stealing and the others languished on first.

When word of the remarkable duel filtered downtown, business on Winchester’s main drag was virtually suspended while everybody gathered in front of the Winchester Sun office to follow the game second hand. There being no such luxury as a press box telephone, let alone a press box, the Sun set up a bicycle relay to bring news of progress at the end of each half inning.

Tension on the street matched that in the ball park as the string of zeroes marched across the Sun’s front window. Each report that another round had gone by without a hit off Toney was greeted by cheers and subdued discussion until the arrival of the next courier.

The two teams were playing as if the pennant rode on the outcome of every pitch (which, as a matter of fact, it did, Winchester ultimately winning the championship with one less defeat than runner-up Richmond). From the eighth through the 16th neither pitcher allowed a hit, the equivalent of a full nine-inning, double no-hitter.

Toney got stronger the more he worked. He struck out at least one batter in every inning except the 15th and got five in a row between the 10th and 12th. He nicked Kaiser with an errant curve in the 10th, then went on his five-strikeout splurge, whiffing the side in the 11th on only 11 pitches.

Fred was getting some eye-boggling support, too, especially from Ingles, Goosetree and Chapman. Three times the Hustler shortstop sprinted back on the outfield grass to pull down looping Texas leaguers, and he also raced behind second to scoop up Kaiser’s skimming daisy- clipper and throw him out by an eyelash. Goosetree made a couple of glossy stops of viciously hit balls and once almost fell into the empty third base bleachers to haul in a foul fly.

Chapman ranged all over the middle outfield to make fine running catches. He dropped a towering smash by Hall after a long dash in the 12th that might have been called either way but was ruled an error because the fielder got both hands on the ball. Hall stole second but was stranded there.

Baker’s hex on the Hustlers was equally effective. Campbell got on for a third time when the Colt hurler juggled his roller to the mound in the 11th and Ingles strolled in the 12th, but both expired on first. Toney became the second base runner of the afternoon to reach third base when Kaiser muffed his fly leading off the 13th. Barney and Chapman sacrificed him around but Baker got Campbell on an easy fly.

Ellis broke the hitless deadlock by opening Winchester’s half of the 1 7th with a clean shot into left field, Schmidt laid down a sacrifice bunt to Baker who, with plenty of time to make the play, threw wild to first. Ellis raced to third and Schmidt pulled up at second as the crowd began to talk it up. Goosetree’s best effort, however, was a foul pop back of first base.

Baker slipped a strike past Ingles, and then Ellis came streaking in with the next pitch. As Ellis, Baker and Coyne converged on the plate, Ingles dragged a perfect squeeze bunt down the first base line and Ellis slid under Coyne with the only run of the long, tense afternoon.

The roar that went up as Umpire Wilson signaled the score could be heard halfway across town. When word of the victory reached the business district, every automobile horn in the area began to honk, to be followed shortly by a chorus of factory whistles.

The box score of organized baseball’s longest no-hit game follows.

Lexington   000   000 000 000 000 00  –  0
Winchester 000 000 000 000 000 01  –  1

Base on balls-off Baker 6, off Toney 1; Struck Out-by Baker 6, by Toney 19; Hit by Pitcher-by Toney 1; Left on base-Lexington 6.  Winchester  11; Stolen bases-Stockum Kaiser, Hall; Sacrifice hits-Barney,  Chapman; Double play-Baker to Kimbrough to Stokum; First  base on errors-Lexington 4, Winchester 3; Attendance – 300; Time 2 :45; Umpire-Wilson.

After two winning seasons with Winchester, Toney moved up to Chicago in 1911 but didn’t stick. He spent most of the next four years with Louisville in the American Association, although he rode the Cub bench for a time each spring. Manager Johnny Evers’ abusive language turned the soft-spoken Toney off, and he never pitched well for Chicago.

Drafted by Brooklyn in the fall of 1914, Fred was sold to Cincinnati during the winter and pitched for the Reds, New York Giants and Cardinals through 1923. He didn’t play ball in 1924 and closed out his career with hometown Nashville the following year.

Toney’s big moment in the majors occurred on May 2, 1917 when he pitched ten hitless innings to outlast Jim “Hippo” Vaughn of the Cubs in the only double no-hitter in major league history.

There are ways of recognizing the best pitched games of starting hurlers — the record books list the no-hit games and in a special category even the perfect games where no opposition batter got to first base. But what about the relief pitcher? What about the great efforts they have made over the years? There is no record category for best games pitched in relief and consequently these gems are not recorded and soon forgotten.

Well, that is not exactly true. There was one game that was so flawless, the powers that be lifted it from the ranks of relief efforts and called it a perfect game. That really wasn’t necessary and wasn’t quite accurate anyway.

The game we are talking about, of course, was the first game of the June 23, 1917 twinbill between the Red Sox and Senators where Boston starter Babe Ruth walked the first Washington batter and was dispatched from the field for forcefully disputing the call by umpire Brick Owens. Ernie Shore was brought in to replace Ruth. The Washington runner was thrown out stealing and Shore set down all 26 batters he faced. This should not be considered a “perfect game” like those of Young, Joss, Bunning, et. al., because not quite all the ingredients for “perfect” are there. It should, however, be called the best relief performance ever turned in, and that is quite a singular accomplishment.

What were some of the other stellar relief efforts? Considering only regular season games since 1900, we have reviewed several factors including length of performance, fewest runs and hits and men on base, most strikeouts, relieving with men on base, etc. Whether the relief pitcher won the game or not is considered a negligible factor.

One game that evoked some memories of and comparisons with the Ernie Shore performance took place on August 31, 1955 in Cleveland. Bill Wight of the Baltimore Orioles was facing rookie Herb Score of the Indians. In the first inning Wight gave up two walks, five hits, and five runs without getting the first batter out. With two on base, he was replaced by Hector “Skinny” Brown, who could start or relieve as needed. Brown completely cut off the Tribe. He was facing a team that had gotten its first seven batters on base and then suddenly they could not get another hit for the rest of the game. Brown’s knuckleball and slider were working marvelously against such batters as Bobby Avila, Ferris Fain, Ralph Kiner and Al Rosen, and this particular day he also had a live fastball. He fanned 10, and, while he was one of the best control pitchers in modern baseball (only 8 walks in 141 innings in 1963), he did give up five bases on balls in this contest.

Herb Score was also pitching well, and he had the advantage of five runs in the first inning. He fanned 13 and won the game 5-1. The Indians did not have to bat in the ninth, and Brown was credited with eight no-hit innings. He was responsible for all 24 Indian outs. Baltimore management thought he should be credited with a no-hit game, much like Shore, but the American League Office quickly ruled this out.

On July 20, 1914, Hubert “Dutch” Leonard was scheduled to pitch for the Red Sox against the Tigers and George Dauss. He begged off because of a weak ankle and Fred Coumbe took his place. The latter pitched well and the Red Sox had a 2-0 lead going into the ninth. But the Tigers got two runs off Coumbe before anyone was out and Leonard was sent in with Bobby Veach on second. He dispatched the Bengals without a hit that inning, and as the game went into extra innings he kept setting them down. Finally, in the 16th inning Tris Speaker singled in Harry Hooper to give Leonard a 3-2 victory. He had not given up a hit in 8 innings, had walked 3 and fanned 9, pretty good for a pitcher not up to starting.

Some of the best relief efforts were performed by pitchers who won lasting fame as starters. They thereby demonstrated that they could be great under any conditions. In fact, Cy Young had back-to-back performances, one in long relief and the next as a starter, which were faultless.

The rescue effort came on April 30, 1904 in a contest against Washington. George Winters was pitching for the Red Sox and they were leading 3-0 after two. However, Winters was clipped for three quick hits and a run in the third and Young came in with two men on base and nobody out. He set the Senators down in order and continued his mastery throughout the game. He did not give up a hit or a walk in 7 innings and, as his next outing was a perfect game against the Athletics, he was untouchable for 16 straight innings. This was part of his record 25 1/3 consecutive hitless innings, which is discussed in another article in this Journal.

Grover Cleveland Alexander won 28 games as a rookie with the Phils in 1911 and one was in a spectacular relief performance against the Reds on May 13. Alex relieved George Chalmers in the top of the 9th with the score tied at 4-4. He pitched 8 hitless innings and was returned a victor in the 16th when Pat Moran singled in Fred Luderus.  He walked only two and one was caught stealing and the other was wiped out in a double play. Frank Smith, acquired from the Red Sox, went the route for the Reds and lost 5-4.

On the same day there was another notable relief performance, but not a particularly good one. In this game the Giants scored 13 runs off the Cardinals in the first inning. With a 13-0 lead, Manager John McGraw wasn’t going to waste his ace Christy Mathewson and pulled him after the first inning. In came Rube Marquard who pitched the remaining 8 innings in a 19-5 victory. He gave up 12 hits, yet he fanned 14, which was a top mark for a relief hurler up to that point.

Two years later, on July 24, 1913, Walter Johnson fanned 15 (some reports say 16) in 11-1/3 innings of relief against the St. Louis Browns. This is not only a record for relief hurlers, but turned out to be the most Johnson ever fanned in any game, and he pitched in two that went 18 innings. Johnson had many great relief performances, but probably none that would rank in the top ten. His best was against the Yankees on July 5, 1912. He relieved Joe Engel in the 4th with one down and two men on. Both scored on an error by shortstop George McBride before Johnson could retire the side. The game was tied 5-5 and went into overtime. The Nats finally won it 6-5 in the 16th. In 12 2/3 innings, Johnson gave up only four hits. He walked 3, hit a batter, and fanned 5.

The longest relief effort in major league history occurred in a game between the Dodgers and Cubs on June 17, 1915. Chicago hurler Humphries was tapped for one run in the first and he left after Zack Wheat slashed a wicked drive back to the mound which took a fingernail off his pitching hand. With two out and two on, he was replaced by George Washington “Zip” Zabel, who had not had a chance to warm up. Almost immediately George Cutshaw was caught off base at third to retire the side. Zabel gave up an unearned run in the eighth which tied up the game 2-2 and it shortly went into overtime. In the 15th he walked Casey Stengel intentionally and the strategy backfired into another unearned run for the Dodgers; however, Vic Saier of the Cubs tied it up again with a homer in the bottom of the 15th. In the 19th inning the Cubs finally pulled it out when Bob Fisher scored on an error by Cutshaw for a 4-3 win for Zabel over Jeff Pfeffer, who went the distance, but was not especially sharp. In 18 1/3 innings, “Zip” had given up only 9 hits, 2 runs, and 1 intentional walk.

Not all of the really long relief efforts were good jobs. The most notorious example was on July 10, 1932 when the Philadelphia Athletics were caught with a limited pitching staff in Cleveland and Eddie Rommel struggled through 17 innings in relief, giving up 29 hits and 14 runs. Ironically, he was still returned the victor, because Wes Ferrell, his relief opponent through 11 1/3 innings, was banged for 12 hits and 8 runs. That was an exceptional game, won by the A’s 18-17 in 18 innings.

The longest scoreless relief effort was turned in by Bob Osborn of the Cubs on May 17, 1927. In this game against the Boston Braves, Osborn made his entrance in the 8th with the score tied 3-3. He hurled 14 innings, giving up only 6 hits and 2 walks, and won the game in the 22nd when Charlie Grimm singled in Hack Wilson, who had walked. Bob Smith went the entire 22 innings for the Braves and lost a heartbreaker.

Two outstanding relief performances were racked up during the summer of 1959. On July 9 at Milwaukee, Roger Craig of the Los Angeles Dodgers relieved Danny McDevitt in the third with the score tied 3-3. Craig, later a pitching coach and now manager of the San Diego Padres, used only 88 pitches in 11 innings of superb hurling. He gave up a pop-fly double to Joe Adcock and two harmless singles, and did not walk a batter. In fact, it was one of the longest games by a relief hurler without giving up a base on balls.

The Braves even called in their ace southpaw, Warren Spahn, in one of his infrequent relief appearances, to pull this one out. He pitched well, but in the 13th gave up a double to Wally Moon and a single by Rip Repulski and Craig won the contest 4-3.

On August 6, 1959, it was the battle of the Billies at Baltimore.  Billy Pierce of the White Sox was hurling against Billy O’Dell of the Orioles. It was 1-1 in the 9th when Hoyt Wilhelm came in to relieve O’Dell. His knuckleball was working exceptionally well against the Chicago club, which was heading for the pennant that year. Wilhelm hurled 8 2/3 innings before he was reached for a hit. In the 18th inning he gave up his second hit, an intentional pass, and catcher Joe Ginsburg was charged with a passed ball, but Hoyt retired the side. It was midnight and the game was called after 18 innings as a 1-1 tie. Wilhelm had given up only two hits in 10 innings, but the hapless Orioles could not score again off Pierce, who went 16 frames, and Turk Lown, who relieved him.

Another 10-inning effort that got more acclaim than the Wilhelm performance was pitched by rookie Bobby Shantz of the Philadelphia A’s on May 6, 1949. In a game against the Tigers, Connie Mack called him in with nobody out in the fourth and a man on third. Shantz, in only his second major league game, retired the side without mishap. He went on to pitch nine hitless innings as the game went into overtime.  He weakened in the 13th and gave up two hits and a run, but Wally Moses won the game for the A’s with a 2-run homer, 5-4. While Shantz did pitch the closest thing to a no-hit game in 1949 (there was no regulation no-hitter that year), his overall performance was marred by 7 bases on balls.

While Shantz starred in his second major league encounter, Pete Richert of the Los Angeles Dodgers actually pitched his best game in his debut on April 12, 1962. Stan Williams of the Dodgers was drubbed for four runs by the Cincinnati Reds in the second inning and the nervous southpaw made his initial appearance with two out and Eddie Kasko on second. Richert fanned Vada Pinson on three pitches to retire the side. In the third inning he struck out Frank Robinson, Gordie Coleman, Wally Post and Johnny Edwards. Yes, four batters in one inning. Coleman got on when a third strike got past catcher John Roseboro. In the next inning Richert fanned Tommy Harper, giving him six strikeouts for the first six batters he faced in the majors. He was invincible in the 3 1/3 innings he hurled, giving no hits and no walks, and fanning 7. He went out for a pinch hitter in the fifth when the Dodgers scored 7 runs and sewed up the victory for him. It was a brief stint compared to the others cited in this article, but he was overpowering, tying three strikeouts records.

One of the marks, six consecutive strikeouts by a relief hurler, fell to young Denny McLain three years later. On June 15, 1965, at Detroit, McLain came to the mound in the first after the Red Sox had roughed up Dave Wickersham for 3 runs and there was only one out.  He fanned the first 7 batters he faced and a fantastic 14 in only 6 2/3 innings. However, he gave up two runs in the sixth and was lifted for a pinch hitter in the 7th. The Bengals scored 4 runs in the eighth and won 6-5.

There have been many other great relief performances in the past 77 years, but the time has come to make a decision on the top ten.  Here is one person’s opinion, and the cold statistics to support those selections.

The team that evolved into the White Sox got its start in the autumn of 1894 when Charles Comiskey became manager of the Sioux City, Iowa, Western League club. At the same time Ban Johnson, a former sportswriter, assumed the league presidency, largely through Comiskey’s influence with the club owners. Comiskey bought out the Sioux City franchise, moving it to St. Paul in 1895, while Johnson began running the league with an iron hand. He severely disciplined players for rowdiness and even enforced the decisions of his umpires- a real novelty in those days of unbridled hooliganism.

By the end of the decade, the Western League was the most respected minor league in baseball. In 1899 the annual Spalding Guide, never too lavish on compliments except for its publisher’s sporting goods, praised the circuit in these terms:

  … it is safe to say that at least four of the Western League teams were not only better handled but were stronger than at least four of the twelve clubs in the National League; and the promise for 1899 is that the Western League will close its season of 1899 as the strongest of the existing minor leagues.

It was no idle boast. Among the Western League’s graduates in that era were such luminaries as Sam Crawford, Rube Waddell, Deacon Phillippe, Ginger Beaumont, Jimmy Slagle, Jack Taylor, Sam Mertes, Jimmy Williams, Noodles Hahn, and Kid Elberfeld. All of them made significant marks in the majors.

In October 1899 Comiskey received permission from James Hart, president of the Chicago National League club, to relocate his St. Paul franchise to Chicago’s south side. Hart had gladly given his consent, certain that fans would never put up with the odors of the nearby stockyards in order to see a ballgame. Meanwhile, Ban Johnson had replaced the Grand Rapids club with a team in Cleveland, where the National League had abandoned its holdings after a disastrous season.  Since these were signal steps toward giving the league a major character, it was rechristened the American League. At this point, however, it was still by its own admission a minor circuit, with all its clubs located in the Midwest except Buffalo.

This much accomplished during the off-season, the American League was set for 1900 with teams in Chicago, Cleveland, Milwaukee, Detroit, Indianapolis, Buffalo, Minneapolis, and Kansas City. With the exception of Minneapolis, all of these cities had National League clubs at one time or another during the 19th century, but only Chicago’s had survived.

The National League had cut back its number of clubs from 12 to 8, throwing dozens of fringe players into the breadlines, and some regulars as well. Most of them sought and received employment in Johnson’s new organization. Of the 200 players who saw action in the American League of 1900, 102 had previously been in the senior circuit for varying lengths of time.

Comiskey’s Chicago squad took the nickname White Stockings, a time-honored moniker which the Chicago Nationals had discarded a decade earlier in favor of Colts. The following year, the press began shortening it to White Sox, and the name has stuck with the team ever since. Of the 28 players who appeared with the 1900 White Sox in the course of the season, only four had never played in the majors. It was no team of greenhorns, to be sure.

However, the degree and the productivity of the players’ experience varied greatly. First baseman Frank Isbell had played with the Cubs (Colts) in 1898 as a utility pitcher-infielder, but had shown little promise and spent the following season with St. Paul. Dick Padden, second baseman and team captain, had spent four years with Pittsburgh and Washington, batting .282 for the Pirates in 1897. At shortstop was veteran Frank Shugart, a native Chicagoan who had been in and out of the big time since 1890 with several clubs, reaching a high of .292 in 1894 for St. Louis. Third sacker Fred Hartman had four years of big league experience behind him, hitting .306 for the St. Louis Nationals in 1897. Most of the catching was done by Joe Sugden, a long-time NL receiver who had generally been a second-stringer.

In the outfield were Hermus McFarland in left, William “Dummy” Hoy in center, and Steve Brodie and John Shearon alternating in right. Hoy, a longtime National League flychaser and deaf mute, was an outstanding base stealer and a competent batter who had crossed the .300 mark several times during the `90s. A first class fielder with a wicked throwing arm, he had once thrown out three runners at the plate, after they’d tried to score from second on base hits! Although deaf and dumb, Hoy had developed a system of handsignals which cued in his outfield partners without a flaw.

Steve Brodie, a tough-guy competitor who would just as soon punch out an enemy player as look at him, was a ten-year big league veteran before coming to the White Sox. One of the fabled Baltimore Orioles of the mid-1890s, Brodie was a .300 plus lifetime batter and an aggressive base runner. Shearon and McFarland had only brief big league experience in back of them. In fact, during the early part of the season, veteran Tommy Dowd generally appeared in leftfield rather than McFarland. Although a respected .275 hitter with nine major league seasons, Dowd was a disappointment with the Sox and was sold to Milwaukee after only 36 games.

Pitching-wise, Chicago’s “big four” were John Katoll, Roger Denzer, Chauncey Fisher and Roy Patterson. The last named had no previous experience in the majors, while Denzer and Katoll each had only a cup of coffee with the Colts in the late `90’s. Fisher had been in the NL for four years, posting a mediocre record. Later in the season, they were joined by Cy Seymour and Frank Killen. Seymour, an effective fast-baller when his control was with him, had won 25 games for the Giants in 1898 while fanning 249 batters, to lead the league. Killen, a lefty, had won 163 games in his major league career, including 35 for the Pirates in 1893 and 30 in `96. His arm had since burned out, however, and he was well over the hill by the time the Sox signed him.

Others who drifted in and out of the lineup at various times were catchers Dick Buckley and Bob Wood, infielders Frank Martin, Phil Geier, Frank Motz, David Brain, Charley O’Leary and Jimmy Burke, outfielders Pat Dillard, Bud Lally and G.E. Clayton, and pitcher Bill Hill. Except for Brain, O’Leary and Clayton, all had big league experience ranging from a handful to several hundred games.

Comiskey, the owner and manager, was no stranger to the big leagues either. An excellent first baseman in his playing days, “Commy” had been player-manager of the St. Louis Browns of the American Association, leading them to four straight flags from 1885 through `88. Born and reared in Chicago, he had briefly returned to his hometown in 1890, when he played for and managed the Chicago Onions of the Players League. Now, as owner of the White Sox, he was to enjoy his brightest accomplishments and, eventually, his bitterest sorrows.

Chicago’s new team began operations April 21, 1900 at a small, wooden enclosure located at 39th Street and Wentworth Avenue, handily accessible by both the streetcar and the elevated train. The grandstand had a seating capacity of 5,000 while the bleachers held an additional 2,500, and both were enlarged in the ensuing years. Surroundings included a factory, an Irish youth club, a German-speaking Catholic parish, and saloons frequented by both ethnic groups.

Under a dark sky and a threat of rain, an assemblage of 5,000 attended the opener. Chicago’s foes were the Milwaukee Brewers of Connie Mack, an experienced mentor even in 1900. The Chicago Tribune commented that “Both the Milwaukee and the White Stocking teams are made up of good players, many of them tried by several seasons in the National League…”

Chicago’s mayor, Carter Harrison H, could not attend so Mayor Rose of Milwaukee threw out the first ball. Perhaps it was a bad omen for the home team since the Brewers won in ten innings, 5-4. Painters were still touching up the outfield fences while play was going on.

The White Sox evened things the following day with a 5-3 snatch before an overflow crowd of 12,000. On April 24 they belted their first home runs as McFarland and Shugart connected for one apiece. Frank Isbell was the game’s winning pitcher.

Nevertheless, Chicago’s start was inauspicious. By the morning of June 1 they were sitting in fifth place with a 17-18 log. Indianapolis led with 20 wins against only 8 defeats.

But that month the White Sox came into their own during a long home stand, posting 20 wins against 6 losses. They pulled into the lead June 25 by edging Minneapolis, 4-3. The July 1 standings showed Chicago number one with a 3 7-24 mark and Indianapolis second with 33-24. Cy Seymour had joined the team June 18, the Tribune commenting that he “brought most of his wildness to Chicago.”

From late June on, Chicago set the pace, although Indianapolis and especially Milwaukee proved to be tough competitors. The White Sox clinched the flag September 12 with a double win from Cleveland at Chicago (12-4 and 9-1). They ended the season six days later with a loss to Indianapolis, but by then they were just going through the motions. Their final record was 82 wins and 53 losses for a .607 percentage and a 4½ game lead over the second place Brewers.

In winning their first pennant, the White Sox established a club tradition, the antics of Chicago’s 1977 cannons not withstanding. It was a weak-hitting team that won its games with pitching and glovework.  On September 12, Cleveland manager Jimmy McAleer commented on the Chicago victory:

It’s the strangest thing that ever happened. A club with no good batsman to win a flag! Why, such a thing was never heard of before. Padden has done most of it. He has been the whole works, and has shown himself a born general. The pitchers did the rest, with special credit to that lad Patterson.

When the team had its victory celebration at South Side park on September 15, Charles Comiskey was awarded a five foot red bat, decked with red, white and blue ribbons. The Tribune remarked:

It was the gift of a sporting goods firm, and while intended to be an emblem of championship prowess, there may have been just the least bit of delicate satire, considering the fact that the White Stockings are admittedly the poorest batting team in the league . .

The figures bear this out. Joe Sugden, their leading hitter, collected 133 hits in 121 games for a .290 average. Following him were Shearon .285, Padden .284, and Hartman .275. Dummy Hoy, playing all 135 games, batted only .254 but scored 115 times and stole 32 bases. A one-man outfield when he had to be, the silent star topped the league’s flychasers in putouts (337), assists (45), and fielding average (.977). In the 77-year history of the American League that followed, no one outfielder ever led in all three categories.

On the mound, Denzer led with a 20-10 mark, followed by Fisher (19-9), Patterson (17-8), and Katoll (16-14). The others were used only sparingly, Killen and Seymour included. If the bunt, the stolen base, and the wild pitch won the pennant for the Sox in 1959, the same was true nearly 60 years before.

Whether or not the American League of 1900 should be accorded major league status is something that historians will probably argue for decades to come. It is safe to say that the infant American League was no ordinary minor league, nor were the White Sox just another bush league pennant winner. Although only ten of them were back on the team in  1901-Isbell, Shugart, Hartman, Hoy, McFarland, Sugden, Brain, Patterson, Burke, and Katoll-it is significant that seven were still regulars and most had good years. By then Comiskey had added such NL stars as Clark Griffith, Jimmy Callahan, Sam Mertes, and Fielder Jones, as the Sox repeated as champions-this time against full-fledged big league competition. Their record of 83-53 was almost identical to their 1900 mark.

Opinions of 1900 generally rated the new organization fairly high alongside the established National League. Before the season had even begun, the Chicago Tribune said that “the American League is not, after all, much behind the old, cumbersome National League.” The Sporting News asserted that while its playing quality was not as high as the National League’s, it attracted fans because of the absence of rowdyism then so prevalent in the elder circuit. As for the White Sox, Comiskey’s biographer G. W. Axelson said that “Although of a minor league caliber, it was as game a bunch as ever stepped on the ballfield and the rapidly increasing throng in the stands found it more and more to their interest to stick until the end of the ninth inning.”

Another gauge by which to measure their ability is how they fared in the majors after 1900. The only big names on the team were Brodie, Hoy, and Killen, all of whom had their best years behind them. Killen never pitched in the big time again, while Hoy and Brodie hung on for two more years. The former upped his average to .293 for the `01 White Sox in a full year, while Brodie batted .311 in 309 at bats for the AL Baltimore Orioles. Upon returning to the NL in 1902, both slipped and called it quits after that season.

Among the younger players, many had fine careers ahead of them while others drifted into obscurity. Cy Seymour gave up the mound in favor of the bat to become one of the most feared hitters in the National League. In 1905, he hit a league leading .377 for the Cincinnati Reds. Frank Isbell spent the rest of his career with the Sox as a smooth fielder and able base runner, albeit a light hitter. His 52 steals in 1901 were high in the American League and he “led” the Hitless Wonder White Sox of 1906 with a .279 average. Fred Hartman batted .309 and swiped 33 bases for the 1901 White Sox but slumped with the Cardinals the following year, after which he dropped out of the majors. Charley O’Leary became a stereotype “good field, no hit” shortstop for the Tigers between 1904 and 1912, appearing in three World Series. As a Boston Beaneater, Dave Brain topped the 1907 NL with ten home runs, but his career was otherwise undistinguished. Pitcher Roy Patterson proved himself of solid major league ability with 20 wins in 1901, 19 in `02, and 16 in `03. Spending his entire career with the Sox, he was called “the Boy Wonder” long before anyone ever heard of Batman and Robin. The others had no further accomplishments to speak of, although some hung on in the majors for several years.

Man for man, the 1900 White Sox were an outstanding team by minor league standards and might have made a good showing against some of the NL clubs. However, any of the top three NL teams-Brooklyn, Pittsburgh or Philadelphia-probably would have mauled them in an extended series. While the Sox had some fine players, they had no Keelers, Wagners, Burketts, Delahantys or Lajoies. Patterson was no Young, nor Katoll a McGinnity. But they had brought championship baseball back to Chicago for the first time since Cap Anson’s Nationals turned the trick 14 years earlier.