Topps commemorated Ryan Zimmerman’s 11th career walk-off with a collectible card in 2018. (THE TOPPS COMPANY)

Baseball games are filled with moments of great theater. What do we expect before the curtain rises? Perhaps a great pitching duel, or a milestone performance by a favorite player, perhaps even the major league debut of the game’s next potential superstar. The possibilities are endless. The beauty of the game is that the many possible story lines we contemplate fail to reveal even a hint as to what might actually unfold on the field.

The drama might build slowly and treat us to a great pitching performance. For example, the possibility of witnessing a no-hitter is confirmed only when the last batter in the last inning makes the last out and the pitcher is mobbed on the field.

The most dramatic and emphatic of plays, the walkoff home run, must also wait for the last batter in the last inning. Every home team fan thinks of nothing less when its possibility arises. The reaction to a walkoff home run is as predictable as it is sudden. As the ball leaves the playing field and the batter circles the bases, the exuberance of the fans is immediate. The visiting team quickly leaves the field, while the home team emerges from the dugout, excited and victorious, to surround home plate as the umpires stand by stoically just to make sure that the batter touches every base. Game over, celebration begins!

The term “walk-off” didn’t enter the baseball lexicon until 1988 as noted by author Paul Dickson. “The term was coined by Oakland Athletics pitcher Dennis Eckersley for that lonely stroll from the mound after a pitcher gives up the winning run (Gannett News Service, July 30, 1988).”2

Eckersley’s use of the term had a rather negative connotation, referencing the losing pitcher as he leaves the field after yielding the home run. It is quite likely that he was referring to the Oakland versus Seattle game at the Kingdome on July 29, 1988. Eckersley came into the game in the 10th inning seeking his 31st save of the season with the A’s leading, 3–2. Instead, Steve Balboni hit a three-run game-winning home run for the Mariners and the walk-off began.

To the chagrin of some, common usage of this terminology has evolved to highlight the achievement of the batter, regardless of how the walk-off was achieved. Larry Granillo’s study, “Walking Off,” defines a walk-off victory as “a run-scoring event in the bottom half of the last inning of the game that gives the home team a winning margin.”3

An article in Sports Illustrated in 2000 noted, “Like crabgrass invading someone’s lawn, “walk-off!” has taken root in sports lingo and gotten out of control. The term should appear in quotes and be followed by an exclamation point because, without TV’s dime-a-dozen talking heads repeating it endlessly and effusively, there would be no “Aaron Boone wins the game with a walk-off!” Instead, we would simply (and gracefully) call a game-ending home run what we’ve always called it: a game-ending home run.”4 The home run is not the only play given the designation: these days it’s not unusual for a game to be ended by a “walk-off single,” a “walk-off walk,” or even a “walk-off balk.”5

The history of major league baseball’s walk-off home runs is rich and no player personifies that recent history better than Ryan Zimmerman. The arrival of Zimmerman as a Washington National virtually coincided with baseball’s return to the nation’s capital after a 33-season absence. The Nationals selected Zimmerman as the fourth player overall in the June 2005 amateur player draft. He spent the summer moving from Class A to Class AA minor league baseball, batting .336 and earning a September call-up for his major league debut. Zimmerman played in 20 games for the Nationals and batted .397, leaving a first and certainly lasting impression on teammates and fans alike.

There have been 1,084 walk-off home runs in the 16 seasons 2005–20.6 Since 2005, when the Montreal Expos franchise relocated to Washington, DC, Ryan Zimmerman has more game-ending home runs (11) than any other major league player, assuring his place among the career leaders as summarized in Table 1.

Table 1. Career walk-off home run leaders

Note: Stats current through the 2021 season

All eleven games that have ended with a Ryan Zimmerman walk-off home run are noted in Table 2, along with the name of the author who has chronicled each game for SABR’s Baseball Games Project.7 Let’s recap four of them, covering several different types of games and circumstances.

Table 2. SABR Baseball Games Project – Ryan Zimmerman’s Walk-off Home Runs

1. June 18, 2006 – Ryan Zimmerman hits his first walk-off home run (Peebles)
2. July 4, 2006 – Nationals’ Ryan Zimmerman provides the walk-off fireworks (Peebles)
3. May 12, 2007 – Another holiday, another Ryan Zimmerman walk-off homer (Peebles)
4. March 30, 2008 – Ryan Zimmerman sends D.C. fans home happy with walk-off homer in Nationals Park debut (Sharp)
5. September 6, 2009 – Ryan Zimmerman hits fifth career walk-off home run (Peebles)
6. July 6, 2010 – Ryan Zimmerman hits sixth career walk-off home run (Peebles)
7. July 31, 2010 – Twice in a month: ‘Mr. Walk-Off’ Ryan Zimmerman sends Nationals fans home happy (Peebles)
8. August 19, 2011 – Ryan Zimmerman’s walk-off grand slam beats Phillies (Weiner)
9. July 26, 2013 – Ohlendorf’s pitching, Zimmerman’s walk-off homer lift Nationals over Mets (Peebles)
10. May 19, 2015 – ‘Mr. Walk-Off’ Ryan Zimmerman’s 10th-inning blast beats Yankees (Weiner)
11. August 22, 2018 – Ryan Zimmerman’s 11th walk-off home run, a play in two acts (Weiner)

Ryan Zimmerman’s first career walk-off home run came on June 18, 2006. (TRADING CARD DB)

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, MR. ZIMMERMAN!

Father’s Day weekend 2006 brought New York Yankees fans from everywhere for a three-game interleague series between the Nationals and Yankees in creaky old RFK Stadium. Ironically, the Yankees’ last game in this same ballpark on September 30, 1971, against the American League rival Washington Senators, ended in the chaos of a swarming crowd on the field and a forfeit victory for the Yankees.8 Baseball was gone from RFK Stadium until the 2005 season.

Fittingly, Ryan Zimmerman’s parents, Keith and Cheryl Zimmerman, were among the Father’s Day crowd (45,157), the largest since the Nationals had played their first home game in 2005 against the Arizona Diamondbacks.9 As the Nationals came to bat in the bottom of the eighth inning, Yankees starter Chien-Ming Wang, on his way to leading the major leagues in wins (19) in 2006, was seemingly in control. The Yankees had a 2–1 lead and Wang had yielded only four singles through seven innings and thrown only 80 pitches.

After walking two batters in the eighth inning, perhaps Wang was tiring. When Wang finished the scoreless eighth with a 96-pitch count, Yankees manager Joe Torre seemed determined not to use his premier closer, Mariano Rivera, for a third game in a row. Rivera had won the first game of the series and lost the second one.

But Keith Zimmerman expressed a premonition about what was to come next for his eldest son, Ryan.10 After Marlon Anderson singled to right in the ninth inning with one out, Zimmerman came to bat as the potential winning run. If a tiring Wang left a pitch up in the strike zone, Zimmerman was ready to pounce. He did just that on the very first pitch, sending it over the left-field fence into the bullpen for his first-ever walk-off hit.

SABR author Laura Peebles described Zimmerman’s trot around the bases: “The usually reserved Zimmerman smiled and raised his arm in triumph as he circled the bases, throwing away his batting helmet as he approached his teammates ready to mob him at home plate.”11 After all, this was a first. Dating all the way back to his Little League days, Zimmerman had never ended a game in that fashion. “No walk-off, nothing,” he noted later. “No single. Nothing.”12 His walk-off home run was the first at RFK Stadium since the Nationals had become the new tenants a year earlier. The fans demanded a curtain call and got one. Indeed, there would be more such occasions to come.

INAUGURATING A NEW BALLPARK

A better script could not have been written for the Opening Night play at Nationals Park on March 30, 2008, Baseball Research Journal, Fall 2021 especially for the closing act. The Nationals successfully lobbied Major League Baseball and ESPN to open the season one day before the scheduled Opening Day, highlighting a spanking new ballpark to a nationally televised audience.13

The pre-game festivities had all the trappings of an Opening Night: flags unfolded across the field, F-16s roaring through the skies overhead, and esteemed mezzo-soprano Denyce Graves singing the National Anthem. The honor of handing a baseball to President Bush for the first pitch belonged to Ryan Zimmerman, by now the face of the franchise. President Bush, former owner of the Texas Rangers, threw that pitch—a ball, high and tight—to Nationals manager Manny Acta.14

The Nationals were swept up in the excitement of the night in the very first inning. Cristian Guzman lined a single to right on Braves starter Tim Hudson’s first pitch and raced to third on an errant pick-off throw. With two outs, Nick Johnson’s double and Austin Kearns’s single gave the Nationals an early 2–0 lead. Braves pitching—Hudson, Will Ohman, and Peter Moylan—would not allow another batter to reach base until the fateful ninth inning.

Meanwhile, Chipper Jones cut the Nationals lead in half, 2–1, when he hit a solo home run off starter Odalis Pérez in the fourth inning. In the top of the ninth inning, the Braves tied the score against Nationals reliever Jon Rauch. Mark Teixeira’s double eventually led to an unearned run when pinch runner Martín Prado scored on a passed ball.

After 24 consecutive batters had been retired, including two in the bottom of the ninth inning, Ryan Zimmerman came to bat. All this game needed was a rousing conclusion. As Nick Johnson moved into the on-deck circle and Kearns grabbed a bat in the dugout, veteran Dimitri Young had a premonition. “Put it down, he told Kearns, You won’t need it.”15 He was right. Zimmerman hit Peter Moylan’s 1-and-0 fastball into the left-center stands for his fourth career game-ending home run and another curtain call. “Storybook ending,” said Mark Lerner, the Nationals’ managing principal owner. “It was the end of a perfect day. You can’t write a script like that.”16

THE 38th PITCH

It’s August 19, 2011, and you are in first place by 8½ games in the National League’s East Division. It’s the bottom of the ninth inning and your team is ahead, 4–2. For Phillies manager Charlie Manuel, it was time to call on his closer, Ryan Madson, for a third consecutive game. His 23rd save on the previous night sealed a 4–1 victory for the Phillies over the Arizona Diamondbacks.

The inning began and ended with classic confrontations of pitcher versus batter, requiring the best of skills by both combatants. To open the ninth, Madson was facing ex-teammate Jayson Werth for the first time in his career. Werth was known for being able to work a pitch count to advantage. Werth was well on his way to leading the National League in 2011 with 4.37 pitches per plate appearance.17 Werth was quickly down 0-and-2 in the count. Over the next eight pitches, Werth fouled off five in between taking three balls. Finally, with the count 3–2, Werth lined a 95-mph fastball into left field for a single.

Was Madson unnerved by Werth’s at-bat? Three more singles wrapped around an intentional walk and a sacrifice bunt tied the score at 4–4. With two outs and the bases loaded, Ryan Zimmerman came to the plate. It was well past midnight since a rain delay had been called only five minutes after the first pitch, which lasted over two hours. Only a fraction of the original crowd (37,841) remained to anticipate the possibilities of what might happen next.

Ryan Madson was now in uncharted territory. He had already thrown 32 pitches in the inning. The last time he had thrown that many pitches in a relief outing had come nearly three years earlier, in this very same ballpark.18 What did happen next? Bases loaded, two outs, full count. On Madson’s 38th pitch of the inning, Zimmerman expected fastball and got one, inside at 92 mph. He deposited it down the left-field line, a grand slam, the eighth walk-off home run of his career and a Nationals 8–4 win.19

Zimmerman understood, as did Jayson Werth, the pressure of these pitcher-versus-batter confrontations. “The way I’ve always been taught is, the pressure is on the pitcher,” Zimmerman said. “Obviously, I want to get a hit as much as anyone else. But if you kind of put it into that mindset, it puts the pressure on him, keeps you calm. The key thing is to try and not do too much.”20

A PLAY IN TWO ACTS

As dramatic and emphatic as the walk-off home run may be, ambiguity can prevail. Is it a game-ending home run or a game-tying double?

On August 22, 2018, it’s the bottom of the ninth inning and the Nationals trail, 7–6, as the Phillies bring in Seranthony Dominguez to close out the game. The Nationals were down to their last out after Bryce Harper flied out to short left and Anthony Rendon flied a first pitch to right. Juan Soto’s double down the right-field line gave the fans what they wanted—Ryan Zimmerman coming to the plate as the winning run.

But this play took a strange turn. In act one, Zimmerman hit Dominguez’s 2-and-1 offering just barely over the right-field wall. He reacted as if he had just hit his 11th walk-off home run, but the blast was initially ruled a double, with Soto scoring to tie the game at 7–7. The umpires went to video replay to review the initial call while Zimmerman stood on second base. When the home-run signal came from the umpires, act two began. The exuberant, 19-year-old Soto started running from home plate toward Zimmerman, who had resumed his home run trot. Soto just wanted to start an early celebration, but manager Dave Martinez thought about the rules and said, “If he touches Ryan, he’s out. I was screaming bloody murder.”21 Several other media outlets also reported Martinez’s conclusion as correct.22 Soto got the message and retreated to home plate to await the arrival of “Mr. Walk-Off” with his 11th career game-ending home run and an 8–7 Nationals win.23

According to MLB umpire Gerry Davis, Martinez’s assertion is incorrect because the ball was dead when Zimmerman resumed his home run trot.24 “While the ball is dead no player may be put out, no bases may be run and no runs may be scored, except that runners may advance one or more bases as the result of acts which occurred while the ball was alive (such as, but not limited to, a balk, an overthrow, interference, or a home run or other fair ball hit out of the playing field.” (Section 5.06(c)—Dead Balls, Official Rules of Major League Baseball, 2019: 31).

For the record book, this walk-off home run was Zimmerman’s fifth when his team was trailing at the time, tied for the most in major-league history with Babe Ruth, Frank Robinson, and Fred McGriff.25

MR. WALK-OFF

Ryan Zimmerman was called “Mr. Walk-Off” on MASN, the network that carries Nationals games, after hitting his 10th game-ending home run against the New York Yankees on May 19, 2015.26 Following the game, Dan Steinberg, columnist for the Washington Post, explored the nickname’s background and discovered it was first used in 2008 by blogger William F. Yurasko following Zimmerman’s fourth walk-off home run.27 Yurasko had attended the game marking the opening of Nationals Park. Yurasko exclaimed on his blog right after the game that “Ryan Zimmerman sent a telegram to the baseball world this evening: ‘I am Mr. Walkoff.’”28

The name stuck in print media as well. One month after Zimmerman hit his ninth walk-off home run in 2013 against the New York Mets,29 the cover story photo and banner for the Nationals in-game program, Inside Pitch, greeted fans for a late August homestand, “Mr. Walk-Off.”30 During the Nationals’ stretch run to secure a spot in the 2019 postseason playoffs, Nationals Magazine writer Michael Bradley reminded fans of “The Legend of Mr. Walk-Off.” He wrote that Zimmerman is focused on one thing in these clutch situations, “making the man delivering the ball worry about what happens if he surrenders the hit that gives Washington a victory.”31

Retrosheet data through the 2020 season provide us with a statistical glimpse of Ryan Zimmerman’s performance and success in the most dramatic of circumstances.32 The career .279 hitter’s batting line when a walk-off situation confronts him is noted in Table 3.

It is not surprising that Zimmerman’s career has been publicly acclaimed for his propensity to end games with a home run (Table 4). In addition to 11 walk-off home runs, Zimmerman also knocked in the winning run in the last plate appearance in six other games with four singles, a walk, and a sacrifice fly. His 17 walk-off events place him in a tie for 24th place for the 1937–2020 seasons. How does that compare to others? Coincidentally, two of his former managers, Frank Robinson (27) and Dusty Baker (25), are the leaders, but Albert Pujols (21) was the only player active in 2020 with more walk-off events than Zimmerman.

Analysis of batting averages suggests at least one way to examine the performance of players in walk-off situations. How might we judge, even qualitatively, the performance of Ryan Zimmerman in comparison to his peers in this most dramatic, pressure-filled circumstance of batter versus pitcher?

From 2005 through 2020, 16 players recorded at least 100 at-bats in walk-off situations. Of those players, only five recorded higher batting averages in walk-off situations than in their other at-bats and only two recorded batting averages higher than .300 in doing so, Nick Markakis and Ryan Zimmerman (Table 5).

In Table 6, Zimmerman’s performance in these pressure-filled at-bats is compared to three contemporaries from the top 10 list of career leaders in walk-off home runs. Jim Thome was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 2018 and Pujols and Ortiz are likely headed there in the future. Zimmerman is keeping good company with some true home run hitters as suggested by each player’s 162-game career home run average. The 162-game home run averages for Babe Ruth (46), Barry Bonds (41), and Hank Aaron (37) provide a broader appreciation of Zimmerman’s accomplishments.

Pitcher versus batter remains the most fundamental confrontation in baseball. Any interest to assess batter performance more quantitatively in walk-off situations will require the review and analysis of pitcher performance under those same circumstances.

Player introductions are a lasting tradition of any Opening Day at the ballpark as the respective teams take their places along the infield foul lines. When Ryan Zimmerman took his spot along the first-base line for the 2019 Opening Day ceremonies at Nationals Park, we were reminded of his baseball accomplishments. The capacity crowd heard the introduction clearly, “Number 11, Mr. Walk-Off, Ryan Zimmerman.”33 A fitting title. 

STEVEN C. WEINER, a SABR member since 2015, is a retired chemical engineer and a lifelong baseball fan. During his undergraduate years at Rutgers University, Steven worked in the sports information office and broadcast baseball and basketball play-by-play on WRSU radio. Steven obtained his doctoral degree in engineering and applied science from Yale University. Steven currently serves as assignments editor for the SABR Baseball Games Project with essay contributions in five SABR books. He volunteers as an in-classroom and virtual teacher at local schools.

Acknowledgments

The author thanks fellow SABR members, Laura H. Peebles, Andrew Sharp and Tom Ruane for their contributions to this work. Peebles and Sharp authored SABR Games Project essays identified, discussed and referenced here. Ruane provided Retrosheet data for analysis of walk-off home runs and the career performance of Ryan Zimmerman and other players in game-ending situations. Baseball-Reference.com, which appropriately acknowledges “Mr. Walk-Off” as one of Ryan Zimmerman’s nicknames, served as a rich resource for baseball-related data and information. Thank-yous are deserved for colleagues involved in many ways with the SABR Baseball Games Project for their hard work, inspiration and camaraderie.

Notes

  1. Amanda Comak, “Zimmerman’s walk-off grand slam lifts Nats to 8–4 comeback win over Phillies,” Washington Times, August 20, 2011.

  2. Paul Dickson, The Dickson Baseball Dictionary, 3rd Edition (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2009), 919.

  3. Larry Granillo, “Walking Off,” BaseballAnalysts.com, August 27, 2009, accessed March 29, 2018, baseballanalysts.com/archives/2009/08/walking_off.php.

  4. Jeff Pearlman, “Walk-off! Crazy A Simple Turn of Phrase by Dennis Eckersley in 1993 Has Become an Overused Appellation for a Game-Ending Dinger,” SI.com, July 17, 2000, accessed November 12, 2020, si.com/vault/2000/07/17/walk-off-crazy-a-simple-turn-of-phrase-bydennis-eckersley-in-1993-has-become-an-overusedappellation-for-agame-ending-dinger.

  5. On August 18, 2018, Dylan Floro balked in the winning run in the 10th inning and the Seattle Mariners beat the Los Angeles Dodgers, 5–4. It was the 22nd walk-off balk in MLB history. (Nick Greene, “The Walk-Off Balk is Actually a Great Way to Lose a Baseball Game,” Slate.com, August 19, 2018, accessed July 24, 2021, slate.com/culture/2018/08/walk-off-balk-the-sea>le-mariners-beat-the-los-angeles-dodgers-5-4-on-friday-thanks-to-a-mostpeculiar-play.html.)

  6. Tom Ruane, emails to author, October 14, 2020, March 13, 2021.

  7. SABR Baseball Games Project, sabr.org/gamesproject.

  8. Shirley Povich, “The Senators’ Final Game,” Washington Post, October 1, 1971.

  9. Laura H. Peebles, “April 14, 2005: ‘Baseball is back in Washington, DC!’ as Nationals win home opener,” SABR Baseball Games Project, sabr.org/gamesproj/game/april-14-2005-baseball-is-back-in-washington-dc-as-nationals-win-home-opener.

10. Barry Svrluga, “Zimmerman’s Homer Lifts Nationals over Yankees,” Washington Post, June 19, 2006.

11. Laura H. Peebles, “June 18, 2006: Ryan Zimmerman hits his first walk-off home run,” SABR Baseball Games Project, sabr.org/gamesproj/game/june-18-2006-ryan-zimmerman-hits-his-first-walk-off-home-run.

12. Svrluga.

13. Barry Svrluga, “First Game at Nationals’ New Ballpark Is Set 13 for March 30,” Washington Post, December 15, 2007, E2.

14. Dave Sheinin and Daniel LeDuc, “A Storybook Ending,” Washington Post, March 31, 2008.

15. Andrew Sharp, “March 30, 2008: Ryan Zimmerman sends D,C, fans home happy with walk-off homer in Nationals Park debut,” SABR Baseball Games Project, sabr.org/gamesproj/game/march-30-2008-ryan-zimmermansends-d-c-fans-home-happy-with-walk-off-homerin-nationals-park-debut.

16. Dave Sheinin and Daniel LeDuc,

17. “MLB Player Batting Stats–2011,” ESPN.com, accessed July 8, 2017, espn.com/mlb/stats/batting/_/year/2011/league/nl/sort/pitchesPerPlateAppearance/type/expanded.

18. The Phillies lost to the Nationals, 9–7, on September 3, 2008, at Nationals Park. Madson threw 32 pitches in two innings that included striking out the side in the sixth inning. In his first major-league start against the Chicago White Sox on June 8, 2004, Madson threw 37 pitches in two-thirds of an inning and was taken out of the game. It was his only start of the 2004 season.

19. Steven C. Weiner, “August 19, 2011: Ryan Zimmerman’s walk-off grand slam beats Phillies,” SABR Baseball Games Project, sabr.org/gamesproj/game/august-19-2011-ryan-zimmermanswalk-off-grand-slam-beatsphillies.

20. Adam Kilgore, “Nationals vs. Phillies: Ryan Zimmerman hits walk-off grand slam to cap Washington’s improbable rally,” Washington Post, August 20, 2011.

21. “Zimmerman hits 2-run HR in 9th, Nationals beat Phillies 8–7,” USAToday.com, October 29, 2020, accessed November 12, 2020, usatoday.com/story/sports/mlb/2018/08/22/zimmerman-hits-2-runhr-in-9th-nationalsbeat-phillies-8-7/37575047.

22. Chelsea Janes, “Ryan Zimmerman lifts Nationals to walk-off win over Phillies,” WashingtonPost.com, August 22, 2018, accessed November 12, 2020, washingtonpost.com/sports/nationals/ryan-zimmermanliftsnationals-to-walk-off-win-over-phillies/2018/08/22/39b6c696-a64a-11e8-97ce-cc9042272f07_story.html; Jamal Collier, “Zim hits 2-run walk-off HR vs. Phils after review,” MLB.com August 22, 2018, mlb.com/news/ryanzimmerman-hits-2-run-walk-off-homerc291475236.

23. Steven C. Weiner, “August 22, 2018: Ryan Zimmerman’s 11th walk-off home run, a play in two acts,” SABR Baseball Games Project, sabr.org/gamesproj/game/august-22-2018-ryan-zimmermans-11thwalk-off-homerun-a-play-in-two-acts.

24. Gerry Davis, personal communication with author, June 29, 2019.

25. Charlotte Carroll, “Nationals Win on Ryan Zimmerman’s Replay-Reviewed Walk-Off Homer,” SI.com, August 22, 2018, accessed November 12, 2020, si.com/mlb/2018/08/22/ryan-zimmerman-walkoff-homer-nationals.

26. Steven C. Weiner, May 19, 2015: ‘Mr. Walk-Off’ Ryan Zimmerman’s 10th-inning blast beats Yankees,” SABR Baseball Games Project, sabr.org/gamesproj/game/may-19-2015-mr-walk-off-ryan-zimmermans-10th-inningblast-beats-yankees.

27. Dan Steinberg, “How Ryan Zimmerman got his ‘Mr. Walk-Off’ nickname,” Washington Post, May 20, 2015.

28. William F. Yurasko, “Ryan Zimmerman is Mr. Walkoff,” March 31, 2008, accessed November 12, 2020, yurasko.net/wfy/2008/03/ryanzimmerman-is-mr-walkoff.html.

29. Laura H. Peebles, “July 26, 2013: Ohlendorf’s pitching, Zimmerman’s walk-off homer lift Nationals over Mets,” SABR Baseball Games Project, sabr.org/gamesproj/game/july-26-2013-ohlendorfs-pitchingzimmermanswalk-off-homer-lift-nationals-over-mets.

30. “Mr. Walk-Off,” Inside Pitch 6 (2013).

31. Michael Bradley, “Ryan Zimmerman, The Legend of Mr. Walk-off,” Nationals Magazine 15 (August/September 2019): 20–28.

32. Ryan Zimmerman opted not to play during the 2020 season due to the coronavirus pandemic. He returned to the Nationals active roster for the 2021 season.

33. The author watched and listened from Section 208 on March 28, 2019. The Mets won an old-fashioned pitchers’ duel, 2–0. Max Scherzer struck out 12 and Jacob DeGrom struck out 10.

“Although he never hit more than 47 home runs in a season…” was a common refrain in the eulogies that marked Henry Aaron’s passing on January 22, 2021.

Intended as a nod to Aaron’s workmanlike virtue, the suggestion that his peak fell short of the more spectacular feats of other sluggers set up the inevitable pivot to the main point, that his 23-year climb to the top of the all-time home run list highlighted two even greater virtues: superlative consistency and longevity.1 Developed over several decades, the popular image of “Quiet Henry” wielding his relentless hammer underpins our understanding of Aaron’s legacy within baseball history and American folklore.2

The underlying facts are not in question: Aaron’s career did exemplify longevity; his performance was remarkably consistent; his best seasonal home run total (47 in 1971) did not threaten any records; and of course he did later eclipse Babe Ruth’s career record for home runs. Nevertheless, the common wisdom regarding Aaron is misleading. It is framed so that the titanic breadth of his career-long achievement must provide necessary compensation for the supposedly low ceiling under which he performed. Thus, Aaron’s career is remembered as a somewhat quiet, deceptively plodding marathon that lacked the flashy brilliance of more supercharged careers.3

In fact, the notion that Aaron did not have what it takes to hit 50 or more home runs in a season understates his true greatness, because it bows unnecessarily to the inflated feats of less-worthy competitors against whom his peak ability has been compared unfavorably. A fresh examination of overlooked but essential evidence, considered in proper context, reveals that the common wisdom falls prey to statistical illusions and analytical pitfalls that have distorted our perceptions of Aaron’s unique strengths and have misdirected our assessments of his career.

“ONLY 47” HOME RUNS

Following decades of rampant home run proliferation, it became possible for the compiler of Aaron’s obituary in The New York Times to remark that the Hall-of-Famer’s “highest total was only 47, in 1971.”4 It should go without saying that 47 is historically an impressive number of home runs for a single season: People do not complain that Lou Gehrig hit “only” 47 home runs in his legendary 1927 campaign.

The fact that Aaron never surpassed 47 home runs should not be particularly remarkable or disquieting: other famous sluggers who failed to exceed the same threshold include Reggie Jackson (47), Ernie Banks (47), Eddie Mathews (47), Joe DiMaggio (46), Willie McCovey (45), Johnny Bench (45), Carl Yastrzemski (44), Ted Williams (43), Duke Snider (43), Mel Ott (42), Rogers Hornsby (42), and Stan Musial (39).

During Aaron’s lengthy career, from 1954 to 1976, only eight players managed to exceed 47 home runs in one year, although they did it on thirteen occasions.5 However, eight of those performances tacked on a mere homer or two, and even though Roger Maris once managed to exceed Aaron’s top mark by 14 home runs, that did not put him significantly closer to Ruth’s career mark.

There are multiple problems with the suggestion that Aaron’s failure to exceed 47 home runs in a season made him a long shot to challenge Ruth’s home run record. First, a single-season high-water mark does not define a player’s greatness. If it did, then Maris would already be in the Hall of Fame while Aaron, with his peak of “only” 47 home runs, might still be just another popular underdog candidate.

A single season is an extremely limited sample. One can remove any one of seventeen different Aaron seasons and he still would have 715 or more home runs. Strong decades matter more than epic seasons. Most career records for counting statistics, even Babe Ruth’s, have required about twenty years of high-rate accumulation. There is nothing especially insightful about the idea that Aaron needed longevity to break an all-time record when that is a given for anyone. Aaron’s excellent rate put him over the top. His totals for two or three seasons were excellent; his totals for four, five, and six or more seasons were prodigious.

Before Aaron’s retirement, only Ruth, Foxx, Killebrew, Gehrig, and Mays had hit more home runs in any ten-year run, and only Ruth exceeded Aaron’s since-broken National League record of 573 home runs in fifteen seasons. Clearly, the traditional unit of the single season is not the best indicator of Aaron’s ability to hit quantities of home runs quickly, and the common wisdom has made too much of the perception that Aaron’s ability to compile home runs in a given year was relatively modest.

A second point to consider is that 1971 was not really Aaron’s most impressive home run season. That year, he hit 16 home runs on the road to go with 31 in Atlanta’s Fulton County Stadium, where the ball carried well because the field was 1,050 feet above sea level. It was an amazing accomplishment for a 37-year-old in 495 at bats—compare Ernie Banks, who won an MVP award in 1958 with 30 home runs at Wrigley Field and 17 on the road over 617 at bats—but Aaron had several better years. In three campaigns during which he connected for 44 or 45 round-trippers (1957, 1962, and 1963), his home numbers were held down by difficult hitting conditions, including chilly weather, in Milwaukee’s County Stadium. But he blasted 26, 27, and 25 road home runs in those seasons (with 83 road RBIs in 1957!), leading the league each year.

Aaron also had a pair of 44-homer seasons during his tenure in Atlanta in which he twice hit 23 on the road, finishing second to Donn Clendenon’s amazing total of 25 in 1966 and pacing the league for the fourth time in 1969. Moreover, he connected for 20 home runs in his road games during the 1958 pennant-winning season, hit 19 in both 1959 and 1960, and collected 15 or more in six other seasons. These were Ruthian feats in any context and in any era.

One might even argue that Aaron’s seasonal home run rate was a more important component of his assault on Ruth’s record than his longevity was.6 Plenty of players have played for twenty or more seasons, but only three (Aaron, Ruth, and Barry Bonds) have averaged 35 home runs over two decades. Mays played 22 seasons but came up well short of this pace. Aaron played 23 seasons, but he needed only twenty seasons plus three games to break Ruth’s record. His home run pace, seen in proper context, was by no means a modest one. It was historic.

A TALE OF TWO CITIES

As Bill James pointed out in his Historical Baseball Abstract (1986), some of the tranquil consistency in Aaron’s home run ledger is a statistical illusion caused by park effects: “At his peak, Aaron would have hit 50 home runs, and probably more than once, had he been playing in an average home run park.” Aaron considered Milwaukee’s County Stadium a “fair” (meaning symmetrical) ballpark where he could “see the ball well,” but it played large, meaning it tended to contain long drives that were home runs elsewhere, resulting in 185 home runs from Aaron’s bat in Milwaukee versus 213 on the road during his first twelve seasons (1954–65).7

Whereas Aaron was held to four 40-homer campaigns in Milwaukee between ages 20 and 31, Atlanta’s “Launching Pad” boosted his gradually waning power production during his later years (1966–74), giving life to one or more of the four 40-homer campaigns that he enjoyed between ages 32 and 40. Naturally, a ballpark cannot cause baseballs to exit all by themselves—Aaron still had to hit hundreds of balls high and far and fair in Atlanta—but in the hope of taking full advantage of the thin air he began to lay off outside pitches more and adjusted his swing for greater pull and loft, doing so far more effectively than any of his rivals did.

Park-neutral performance is more indicative of home run-hitting ability than simply asking whether a player was able to hit more than 47 in a season.8 Therefore, it is significant that at the time of his retirement, Aaron had compiled six seasons with at least 20 home runs on the road, the second-most in baseball history (tied with Mays and Killebrew). Ruth, as usual, was in a league of his own with 13 such seasons; Schmidt later reached seven. Listed below are all the players active before or during Aaron’s career (that is, by 1976) who accumulated at least 100 home runs in road games during their five best seasons in that category; for purposes of ranking, ties are broken by career road home run totals (Table 1).

Table 1. Hitters (1900–76) with 100+ Road Home Runs in Their Five Best Seasons

(Click image to enlarge)

In this contest of park-neutral skill, Aaron is not just a steady also-ran, to be found near the bottom of this fast company, nor is he in the middle of the pack. The guy who never hit more than 47 home runs in a season is up there at the top of the list, behind only Ruth. Indeed, he leads all competitors from baseball’s post-integration, pre-steroid era. Who knew?

Even when the five-year durability criterion is eased back to a player’s top four seasons, which favors not the tortoise but the hare, this presents no problem for Aaron, who holds onto third place (101 road home runs), just one behind the surprisingly lethal Mathews (102), and just two home runs per year short of The Babe’s best efforts (109). Conversely, as we increase the number of sample seasons to six and beyond, Aaron pulls away from the pack and eventually surpasses even Ruth, ending with 370 lifetime road home runs.

While Aaron’s lofty ranking may be surprising, it is a testament to his top-tier proficiency on the road that he was able to climb to the very precipice of the all-time record in his twentieth season. For two decades he had been greater than recognized, and his numbers, seen in proper context, were better than all but Ruth’s.

AARON IN COMPARISON TO THE 50-HOMER CLUB

At the time of Aaron’s retirement in 1976, only eight players besides Babe Ruth had ever hit 50 home runs in a single season. According to those who perceived Aaron’s peak of 47 home runs to be a relatively modest total, it was these eight men—or men very much like them—who should have been the likeliest candidates to break Ruth’s lifetime record for home runs. Two of them, Mays and Mantle, reached the big leagues at young ages, twice hit 50+home runs, and lasted long enough to become legitimate threats to Ruth’s record before falling off the pace. (Their road performances will be discussed in greater detail below.)

However, the six remaining members of the club were never realistic record challengers. Whereas Ruth, Mays, and Mantle (like Aaron) performed within the normal expectations for home-park leniency, the rest of the 50-home run club, with one notable exception, was essentially the product of drastic home-park advantages. Here are their home-road splits and their rates of home and road home runs per 600 at bats (Table 2).

Jimmie Foxx played in twenty campaigns but did most of his damage (503 home runs) in the thirteen seasons from 1929 to 1941. He took tremendous advantage of Shibe Park and Fenway Park, compiling home-road splits of 31/27 in 1932, 31/17 in 1933, and 35/15 in 1938. His 235 road home runs are a more accurate measure of his muscles than the 299 that he hit in friendly ballparks.

Even with his enormous home-field advantage, Foxx was no match for Aaron, who outpaced him with 533 home runs across fourteen seasons and pulled away with nine more productive campaigns. Although The Beast’s 58 home runs in 1932 dwarfed Aaron’s 47 in 1971, his road totals are far less impressive, and the nine-homer difference in their pinnacle seasons ultimately had little impact on the final tally, which Aaron won by a margin of 221 home runs.

Ralph Kiner took enormous advantage of Kiner’s Korner at Forbes Field, with peak years of 51 home runs in 1947 and 54 in 1949, featuring home-road splits of 28/23 and 29/25. Overall, he collected 369 home runs in a career that lasted ten seasons. But this pales in comparison to Aaron, who never topped 47 home runs in a season, but who could choose from eight different ten-season spans in which he hit 370 or more home runs, topped off with a total of 386 round-trippers from 1962 to 1971. Thus, we may ask, why should Kiner-esque totals of 54 or 51 home runs be considered such a big deal when Aaron was so quick to make up the difference, and more?

Johnny Mize, Hank Greenberg, and Hack Wilson entered the 50-homer club with performances that were boosted significantly by accommodating home parks: Mize clobbered 51 home runs in 1947, with 29 at the short-cornered Polo Grounds and a personal-best 22 on the road; Greenberg chased Ruth with 58 home runs in 1938, smashing a record 39 at cozy Briggs Stadium in Detroit and a career-high 19 on the road; and Hack Wilson hit 56 home runs in 1930, with 33 leaving the friendly confines of Wrigley Field and 23 on the road, by far his top total.9

Their career-best road totals would have represented good seasons for Aaron, but nothing out of the ordinary. The fact that Aaron repeatedly outperformed Foxx, Kiner, Mize, Greenberg, and Wilson on the road reveals that he was truly a greater power threat than these 50-homer legends ever were, and it destroys the common wisdom that Aaron needed unusual longevity and a late boost from a friendly home park to compensate for a lack of transcendent brilliance.

As a side note, the great exception among the early 50-homer club members was the lone non-Hall of Famer, Roger Maris, another home run record-setter who became a victim of taunts and under-appreciation. Unlike the other eight, he alone managed to hit more home runs on the road than at home in his biggest season, 1961 (30/31). He also did it in his second-best season, 1960 (13/26), the summer before expansion, as well as by a wide margin across his injury-shortened career (122/153). The two-time Most Valuable Player was never a candidate to set any lifetime marks, but he was by no means a one-year wonder, just as he was not simply a home-park phenom. Unbeknownst to many except those reading this article, Maris still holds the all-time record for most home runs hit during consecutive pennant-winning seasons: 182.

KING OF THE ROAD

Aaron retired as the all-time leader in home runs hit on the road. Recognizing the importance of park-neutral performance, Bill James combined Aaron’s road home run totals from consecutive seasons into two halves of a single road “season,” creating a relentless career-long road trip in which the slugger produced an outstanding rookie campaign with 25 home runs, highs of 52, 46, and 42 home runs during the Milwaukee years, and highs of 39, 38, and 35 during the Atlanta years, even while never being able to enjoy the advantages of home cooking, lengthy stays, or friendly fans.

Although James’s method is artificial (requiring repetition of the first and last single seasons) it illustrates the main point: canceling out the disparate influences of Aaron’s home parks, the road totals indicate a more natural career arc, with a true peak at age 28 in 1962 and with no notable spike at age 37 in 1971. The chart below recreates the James experiment and fills out some of Aaron’s amazingly productive road statistics (Table 3).

Table 3. Consecutive-Season Road Numbers Combined into Single-Season Approximations

(Click image to enlarge)

In this light, it may be more meaningful to remember Aaron for the 52 home runs that he hit on the road at age 28 than for the 47 he actually hit while playing his home games in Atlanta at age 37. The only better consecutive-season home run performances on the road were by Ruth (1927–28) and Maris (1960–61), with 57 each; Ruth again (1926–27) with 56; Mathews (1953–54) with 54; and Jim Gentile (1961–62) with 53.11 Matching Aaron’s high of 52 were Ruth (1920–21) and Mike Schmidt (1979-80). Next came Mays with his twin peaks of 50, Ruth (1928–29) with 50; Gehrig (1930–31) with 49, Ruth yet again (1921–22 and 1929–30) with two instances of 48, and Joe DiMaggio (1936–37) with 48 in his rookie and sophomore road trips.

Meanwhile, some very big names, including six players who hit 50 home runs in normal seasons, are missing from this company. While George Foster hit 47 road home runs in 1976–77, edging Aaron’s second-best effort (46) from 1957–58, Kiner topped out at 45 in 1949–50; Foxx at 44 in 1932–33; Mize at 37 in 1947–48; Wilson at 37 in 1929–30; and Greenberg at 36 in 1938-39.

Road totals indicate that Hammerin’ Hank Aaron, with his peak totals of 52 in 1962–63 and 46 in 1957–58, was genuinely more productive on a seasonal scale than these legends were.

For career-long comparisons, the same consecutive-season road home run chart can be compiled for Mays, Mantle, and others. Remarkably, both Aaron and Mays averaged one home run every 17 at bats on the road, so here Aaron’s longevity took the prize.12 Mays also had a slower start, caused by time away during the the Korean War. If Aaron, not Mays, had lost most of two prime years to military service, then Mays might have been the second man to reach 700 home runs.13 Once back, Mays quickly reached a peak of 50 road home runs in 1954–55, fell back to the low 30s for a spell, then surged to 50 again in 1964–65.

Aaron, meanwhile, reached a loftier pinnacle (52), won 17 of their head-to-head races, enjoyed more 30+ home run seasons, and did not fade as quickly. Memories of Aaron sneaking up on Mays in pursuit of various offensive milestones in the early 1970s helped lock in the notion that Aaron’s success came from a strong late push. Make note, however, that when their road home run performances are synchronized by age, Mays was never ahead of Aaron’s pace (Table 4).

Table 4. Comparing Aaron, Mays, and Mantle: Consecutive-Season Home Runs, by Age

(Click image to enlarge)

Switch-hitting Mickey Mantle was park-proof, wielding enough power to propel the ball out of any arena in any direction. Yankee Stadium’s “Death Valley” in left-center may have cost him a home run or two per year, but most of his at bats took aim at right field, where there was a short porch. Away from Yankee Stadium, Mantle hit 185 home runs batting lefty and only 85 righty, but with rates of one home run per 15 at bats each way.14

Compared to Aaron, Mantle had seven fewer combined road seasons with 30+ home runs, peaked with “only” 47 home runs (1960–61), had his last great season at age 29, and finished with a road total of 540 home runs—200 behind a road warrior who never set foot in Atlanta. Whereas Mantle started ahead of Aaron’s pace by making his debut at 19, Aaron’s closure of the gap was relentless. He pulled ahead of Mantle during their epic age-28 seasons (52 vs. 47) and passed him for good at age 30 (Mays finally passed Mantle when they were both 34).

Other famous sluggers, including Gehrig, Foxx, Banks, Killebrew, McCovey, Jackson, and Schmidt, were never able to match Aaron’s pace, early or late. Mel Ott started fast as a teenager but was not the same level of threat on the road. Both Joe DiMaggio and Ted Williams went ahead at early ages, but already by 1940 Joe was falling behind the pace Aaron would set (further proof of Aaron’s amazing start).15 Ted lost his lead when he gave up his 1943 season to military service.16 Even if Joe and Ted had remained in the lineup during the war years, matching Aaron’s combined road home run totals at the same ages would have been a very tall order. Either way, they eventually would have fallen short of both Ruth and Aaron.

Aaron’s greatest challengers are actually Ruth and Mathews. Ruth began his career as a pitcher before converting to being a full-time power hitter, and thus in our game of age-synchronized longball, Aaron will have already hit more than 500 home runs before Ruth catches him at age 33. The Babe will pull as many as 45 road home runs ahead, but then fall half-a-dozen short after his retirement.

Mathews took the opposite approach, getting off to the fastest start of the century and holding off Aaron’s assault until their age-31 seasons. Aaron’s good friend and Milwaukee teammate paced his league in road home runs (in actual seasons) four times, with a high of 30 in 1953, but tailed off during the pitching-dominated Sixties. In some ways the third baseman’s consecutive-season road performance is more impressive than Mantle’s. Canceling out eight seasons in which they compiled equal home run totals, Mathews still had seasons of 54, 42, 40 and 33 to compare to Mantle’s 47, 31, 30, and 26, and he ended up with 10 home runs to spare, although Mantle edged him slightly on power rates (Table 5).

Table 5. Comparing Aaron, Ruth, and Mathews: Consecutive-Season Home Runs, by Age

(Click image to enlarge)

WHO WERE THE GREATEST HOME RUN HITTERS?

It would seem perfectly easy to state outright that Babe Ruth was the greatest slugger in baseball history, based on his eye-popping home-run hitting feats at home, on the road, during his peak, and across his career. Some may argue that the racially segregated competition that Ruth faced, and the less challenging conditions under which he played, argue against his top standing. While it seems plausible that paunchy, libertine Ruth, transported through time, might have kept pace with Williams, Musial, and DiMaggio during the 1940s if he could hit at night, it becomes even harder for many to picture him competing at the same level against Mays, Mantle, and Aaron in subsequent decades, facing fresh-armed relief specialists after coast-to-coast travel. Others may dismiss these doubts.

No one is dismissing The Babe’s abilities in his own time, but it is no less reasonable to question how his numbers would hold up under the greater competitive pressures of later eras than it is to insist on their eternally unchallengeable superiority.

Here one must also consider Josh Gibson (1911–47), whose plaque in Cooperstown asserts that he “hit almost 800 home runs in [Negro] league and independent baseball.” Even if this could be documented, the moundsmen he faced across those endless summers ranged in quality from certified immortals to local volunteers. Given that Gibson was hitting titanic home runs at Yankee Stadium by age 19 but died of a stroke at age 35, one must accept that even a player of his conspicuous talent could have spent no more than 17 seasons in the retroactively integrated major leagues.

As history has shown, it is difficult enough to average 35 home runs per year across twenty years in order to reach 700, as Ruth and Aaron did; the argument that Gibson, a catcher by trade, would have maintained the even higher rate necessary to reach the same plateau in seventeen seasons (17 seasons × 42 home runs=714 total) enters the realm of hypotheticals and wishful thinking.

Many exclude Barry Bonds from consideration because they believe his natural skills fell short. From 1986 to 1998, over the course of 1,898 games, Bonds tallied 411 home runs, establishing firmly (through age 34) that he had the ability to hit as many as 46 home runs in a season while leading his league only once and averaging 32 per season. Aaron, reaching age 34 in the “Year of the Pitcher,” already had hit 510 home runs while pacing his league four times and averaging 34 per season.

To that point Bonds’s home run ability looked superficially like that of Reggie Jackson or Willie McCovey, although in historical context it was more like that of Eddie Murray or Andre Dawson, who each likewise led in home runs once, albeit during an era that was far friendlier to pitchers. Then, in the seasons in which he turned 35, 36 and 37, Bonds showed a startling upswing in power: he smashed 34 home runs in only 355 at bats in 1999; reached a new career high with 49 in 480 at bats in 2000; and then more than doubled what had been his career home run percentage per plate appearance (5.4%) with 73 in only 476 at bats (11%) in 2001, the first of four straight MVP seasons.

Understandably, it is widely suspected that Bonds’s late-career power increase resulted from the use of performance-enhancing drugs. If so, his record belongs to a different category of evidence that is not directly comparable to Aaron’s.

Henry Aaron was a supremely well-qualified candidate to break Ruth’s career home run record from the day he reached the major leagues. He started fast at a very young age, upped his game as he realized the value of his power swing in the late Fifties, surged even higher at his physical peak around age 28, made the most of a golden opportunity in Atlanta, and worked hard to take care of himself as he aged.17 To repeat the point, the “Launching Pad” did not transform Aaron into something he was not meant to be. Atlanta’s thinner air merely gave him back the home runs that he had lost in Milwaukee—plus umpteen more spread over nine seasons there—so that he was able to speed past Ruth’s record in April 1974 instead of in August 1974.

The fact that Aaron succeeded where all others had failed attests to his unique ability, adaptability, determination, and courage in the face of multiple death threats from racists. Although biased or uninformed members of the press and public during the early 1970s dismissed him as an unworthy interloper within Ruth’s mythic realm, in truth they could easily have questioned the legitimacy of the legendary records of Ruth, Cy Young, Ty Cobb, and others that were set under conditions of competitive imbalance and social injustice. The standard Aaron set in 1974, although since broken, ranked among the most worthy and legitimate of all of baseball’s major records.

CONCLUSION

No single season can define Henry Aaron’s greatness as a home run hitter. The sustained dominance that he demonstrated as a home run hitter in neutral parks was second only to Babe Ruth’s in the pre-steroid game, and it was unsurpassed during the integrated era in which he played. Ruth and Aaron were genuine 700+ home run talents, combining innate longevity, raw power, and peak ability like no one else.

Mays and Williams came the closest to joining this rare company. Gibson passed from the earth far too early, and even the mighty Mantle could not keep pace. Neither could later stars like Albert Pujols, Ken Griffey Jr., and Jim Thome, not to mention the allegedly substance-enhanced sluggers of recent memory. Aaron thus emerges (again) as a true home run king: he was able to hit great quantities of home runs regardless of the ballpark, and he set a high bar for production that few could match in the short run, and none (save for Bonds) could match in the long run. His signature achievement was not one of workmanlike consistency, but rather an unbeatable combination of legendary staying power elevated by genuine and heretofore under-appreciated excellence. 

Notes

  1. In an article published under various headlines by numerous Associated Press newspapers on January 23, 2021, Paul Newberry wrote: “Aaron was numbingly consistent, which explains how he broke Ruth’s record without ever hitting more than 47 homers in a season.” Kevin Sweeney, “Remembering Hank Aaron: A Look at His Most Impressive Stats, Feats,” Sports Illustrated (SI.com), January 22, 2021, wrote: “What allowed Aaron to surpass Babe Ruth was his longevity and consistency as much as his dominance. Aaron never hit more than 50 home runs in a single season and reached 45 just once, in 1971.” In fact, Aaron hit 45 home runs in 1962 and 47 in 1971.

  2. “While Henry Aaron never hit more than 47 home runs in one big-league season, the right-handed-hitting slugger rode remarkable consistency and career longevity to a place atop the all-time homer chart.” “Daguerreotypes,” (The Sporting News, 1990), 174.

  3. “It was a marathon with Hank, it wasn’t a sprint […] He’s in the pack but you think he’ll never break out.” Denzel Washington, quoted in Home Run: My Life in Pictures (Total Sports, 1999), v.

  4. Richard Goldstein, “Hank Aaron, Home Run King Who Defied Racism, Dies at 86,” The New York Times, January 22, 2021: “He won the National League’s single-season home run title four times, though his highest total was only 47, in 1971.”

  5. All home run statistics are available online at Baseball-Reference.com; a handy printed source is The Home Run Encyclopedia (Society for American Baseball Research, 1996).

  6. Eddie Collins, Bobby Wallace, Rickey Henderson, Pete Rose, Rick Dempsey, and Omar Vizquel all played in more seasons than Aaron did, yet they hit 714 home runs combined. After Aaron’s 755, the next-best home run total in a 23-year career is Carl Yastrzemski’s 452; and after Aaron’s 47, the next-best seasonal mark for a 23-year man is 44, also by Yaz (he hit 17 away from Fenway Park).

  7. Quotations from Hank Aaron, with Lonnie Wheeler, I Had a Hammer (Harper Collins, 1991), 159. Eddie Mathews hit 211 home runs in Milwaukee versus 241 away, while Joe Adcock hit 104 there and 135 away. Thus, Aaron “lost” fewer home runs to County Stadium than they did.

  8. Road statistics, by themselves, are somewhat biased in that the hitter has not had the opportunity, or the chore, of playing an equitable portion of games in his own home park. As an example, for the sake of fairness, we could convert Ted Williams’s results at the seven road parks he visited into seven-eighths of his total and add back one-eighth of his home results, all multiplied by two, to recreate a full career of balanced competition: thus, 273 × ⅞ = 239 home runs on the road; 248 × ⅛ = 31 home runs at home; 239 + 31 = 270 adjusted home runs; 270 × 2 = 540 career home runs.

  9. Greenberg and Mize lost prime years to military service in World War II. Another factor that limited Greenberg’s road totals is the fact that he never got to hit in Briggs/Tiger Stadium as a visitor. Foxx, for example, hit 9 home runs in 11 games in Detroit in 1932 and 7 more in 1937.

10. In Aaron’s actual rookie season, he hit 12 home runs on the road but only one in Milwaukee. All 13 were hit either in tie games or with the Braves behind in the score.

11. Two of these historic combined seasons, as well as Mantle’s top pairing, coincided at least partially with the American League’s expansion in 1961. Aaron’s top mark included the National League expansion year of 1962.

12. These statistics were calculated from road at-bat totals available online at Baseball-Reference.com.

13. According to Aaron’s autobiography Aaron (Crowell, 1974), written with Furman Bisher, 64–65, he had been drafted and was due to report for duty in October 1954, but the season-ending broken ankle he suffered on September 5 (on a sliding triple that completed a 5-for-5 doubleheader) put him on the deferred list; thus he enjoyed an uninterrupted career.

14. In Yankee Stadium, Mantle hit 76 home runs (one every 19.51 at bats) righthanded, and 190 home runs (one every 13.12 at bats) lefthanded; thus, his switch-hitting effectively neutralized the impediment that DiMaggio faced there (one every 22.7 at bats).

15. Yankee Stadium’s mercilessly lopsided blueprint held the brilliant center-fielder to 148 home runs in pinstripes, yet he was lethal with 213 home runs during his visits to other towns—fourth all-time when he retired, a mere 22 behind Foxx and 29 behind Gehrig, despite a much shorter career. Given back the three war years and situated in a normal home park, his superior rate per at bat would have put him second only to Ruth upon his early retirement, with about 500 career home runs.

16. On a road home runs-per-at-bat basis, Williams ranks immediately behind Ruth. Although Fenway Park nudged his .344 lifetime batting average up a few points, Williams hit 273 of his 521 home runs away from home (that is, 25 more homers in 68 fewer at bats). Alas, he missed so much playing time to his military service across two wars that his road numbers, impressive as they are, cannot begin to tell the whole story.

17. Craig Wright, Pages from Baseball’s Past: “Aaron Becomes a Home Run Hitter” (online by subscription, February 8, 2021), reinforces Aaron’s recollection that his surprising success on the “Home Run Derby” television show in December 1959 played a positive role.

Amidst the current upsurge of social activism among professional athletes, it is worth recalling the enormous contribution of Jim Bouton, one of the most politically outspoken sports figures in American history. Among professional team sports, baseball may be the most conservative and tradition-bound, but throughout its history, rebels and mavericks have emerged to challenge the status quo in baseball and the wider society, none more so than Bouton. During his playing days, Bouton spoke out against the Vietnam War, South African apartheid, the exploitation of players by greedy owners, and the casual racism of the teams and his fellow players.1 When his baseball career ended, he continued to use his celebrity as a platform against social injustice.

Bouton’s baseball memoir, Ball Four—published in 1970—may be the most influential sports book ever written.2 It was the only sports book to make the New York Public Library’s 1996 list of Books of the Century.3 Time magazine lists Ball Four as one of the 100 greatest non-fiction books of all time.4 But the baseball establishment ignored the 50th anniversary of this revolutionary book. Even after the COVID-19-shortened 2020 season, neither the Hall of Fame nor Major League Baseball planned any celebration.

Bouton—who died in 2019 at age 80—wrote Ball Four after his best days as a hard-throwing All-Star pitcher with the New York Yankees were over and he was trying to make a comeback as a knuckleball pitcher. He wanted athletes to speak out for themselves, to refuse to conform, and to defy complacency. Following his own advice, he was an early supporter of anti-Vietnam War presidential candidate Eugene McCarthy in 1968 and he served as a Democratic Party convention delegate for anti-war presidential candidate George McGovern in 1972.5

In Ball Four, Bouton accused organized baseball of hypocrisy: portraying a squeaky clean image while ignoring burning social issues. Bouton condemned baseball’s support for the Vietnam War. He attacked icons such as the Reverend Billy Graham, disputing his claim that communists had organized anti-war protests. While Baseball Commissioner Bowie Kuhn said he couldn’t remember any players being ostracized for anti-war statements, Bouton recounted being repeatedly heckled for his anti-war views by players and fans: “They wanted to know if I was working for Ho Chi Minh.”6

Ball Four—funny, honest, and well-written—revealed aspects of major league baseball that sportswriters and previous ballplayer memoirs had ignored. Bouton expressed his outrage at owners who exploited players and at players who showed disrespect for the game he loved. He didn’t hold back naming names or describing the lives and antics of ballplayers both on and off the field. It portrayed laudable characters and accomplishments, but also aspects of players’ heavy drinking, crass language and behavior, pep pills and drug use, conservative political views, questionable baseball smarts, anti-intellectualism, womanizing, voyeurism, and extramarital affairs. It described boys being boys: human, fun-loving, vulnerable, and sometimes immature. That is, ballplayers were normal young men, with some special skills, but otherwise not necessarily idealistic heroes, as they had been portrayed by most sports reporters. Exposing what had always been under wraps generated a firestorm of protest from players, management, and sportswriters.7

Ball Four is ostensibly a diary of Bouton’s 1969 season as a pitcher with the lowly Seattle Pilots and Houston Astros, but the most memorable and controversial parts of the book deal with his years with the Yankees. Decades before baseball was rocked by scandal over PEDs, Bouton disclosed players’ widespread use of amphetamines (aka “greenies.”). One of the most controversial parts of the book was his revelation that his Yankees teammate Mickey Mantle, whom sportswriters viewed as baseball’s golden boy, was an alcoholic who often blasted towering home runs while nursing a hangover. As Bouton told Fresh Air host Terry Gross during a 1986 radio interview, his portrayal of Mantle “wasn’t really even so much as a put-down of Mickey Mantle as it was a story of what a great athlete he was.”8

Bouton acknowledged with candor that he was a participant, not just an onlooker, in these activities. And he described his clashes with his coaches and team executives, over salary disputes and his desire to use his knuckleball as his main pitch, as well as his outspoken views about politics. “Baseball, football— they’ve always felt the need to be patriotic,” Bouton observed, “to be on the side of America and might, supporting wars no matter what, and so going against that conservative bent, to have a break in their ranks: This was a little too much for them.”9

In the past half-century since Ball Four’s publication, many athletes and writers have sought to outdo each other with “tell-all” books highlighting tales of drugs and sex among pro athletes, but they lack Bouton’s skills as a sociological observer and political renegade.10 Bouton was not above recounting juvenile hijinks among himself and fellow players, but he reserved most of his outrage for major league baseball’s, and America’s, corporate and political establishment.

Even before he gained notoriety for Ball Four, Bouton was not the typical ballplayer. In his free time, he painted watercolors and made costume jewelry. He and his first wife adopted a Korean mixed-race child at a time when few couples did so. Bouton not only complained about his own salary, he was also a “clubhouse lawyer” and stood up for fellow players if management cheated them. In the book, Bouton claimed that he “wanted to nail those guys [management] because they stole money from the players.”11 By illuminating his own salary battles with the Yankees and their dirty tricks in dealing with him and other players, Bouton revealed baseball’s unfair labor conditions.

As a white professional athlete in the late ‘50s and 1960s, he was unusually curious about the world around him and the burgeoning movements for social change. In the book, Bouton described a visit he and fellow ballplayer Gary Bell made to the University of California campus in Berkeley. They:

By today’s standards, the book is quite tame. But at the time, it was shocking. As Mitchell Nathanson explains in his biography, Bouton: The Life of a Baseball Original,13 Bouton’s fellow ball players were outraged that he had broken the code by revealing stories from the locker rooms and hotel rooms. Many fans were upset by Bouton’s revelations about the private lives of their favorite players. Bouton was excoriated by baseball officials, including Commissioner Kuhn, who called it “detrimental to baseball” and tried to force Bouton to sign a statement saying that the book was a total fiction. Bouton was attacked by sportswriters, who viewed their job as protecting the integrity of the game and the private lives of the players whom they relied on for interviews and stories.

Through extensive interviews with Bouton, as well as his family, friends, ballplayers, political activists, and others, Nathanson shows why and how Bouton was unique among the thousands of pro athletes who came before him. Today, we are less shocked when athletes speak out about social and political issues. The Trump era triggered an upsurge of activism and outrage among pro athletes, led by players like NFL quarterback Colin Kaepernick, MLB relief pitcher Sean Doolittle, NBA star LeBron James, soccer great Megan Rapinoe, tennis star Naomi Osaka, and many others. Some have been successful at raising consciousness and engendering debate while being shut out of their sports or dropped from teams—like Kaepernick and the NFL’s Chris Kluwe—while others have maintained their status as stars. James raised millions of dollars to ensure voting rights leading up to the November 2020 election. Players on championship NFL, NBA, and MLB teams, as well as the World Cup-winning women’s soccer team, refused invitations to celebrate their victories with Trump at the White House. Pro athletes responded to the murder of George Floyd and the police shooting in Kenosha, Wisconsin, of Jacob Blake. NBA, WNBA, and MLB teams refused to play scheduled games to protest the Blake shooting.

In his time, Bouton was not alone in his views, but the many other celebrated athletes who shared his beliefs kept them to themselves. The handful of exceptions included basketball stars Bill Russell and Elgin Baylor, boxer Muhammed Ali, tennis great Arthur Ashe, baseball star Roberto Clemente, and Olympic track stars John Carlos and Tommie Smith. But Bouton was rare in two respects. He was white and, except for a few spectacular years with the Yankees, he was not a major star.

Ball Four revolutionized sports writing, forever changing how journalists cover sports and how fans think about their favorite teams and players. The book’s critics focused on how it assaulted the sanctity of the locker room. But for MLB owners, Bouton’s real threat was challenging their economic power and, more broadly, America’s unequal economic system and the undue influence of big corporations. Bouton loved baseball, but not the baseball establishment which, he believed, took advantage of powerless, unorganized, and under-educated athletes. In a clubhouse discussion one day when Bouton was still with the Yankees, his teammates claimed a fair minimum salary should range between $7,000 and $12,000. Bouton was scolded when he proposed $25,000, but he pointed out that: “…everyone in this room has a PhD in hitting or pitching. We’re in the top 600 in the world at what we do. In an industry that makes millions of dollars, and we have to sign whatever contract they give us? That’s insane.”14

Playing before the ascendancy of the Major League Baseball Players Association, Bouton revealed that major leaguers led lives with little financial or professional security. The owners cared about nothing except their profits. They kept salaries indecently low, and traded or demoted even the most loyal players. At the time, under major league contract terms, ballplayers were little more than indentured servants, with no ability to negotiate with their team owners for better salaries, benefits, or working conditions. Salary negotiations were a farce, and most players couldn’t make a living on their baseball pay, despite generating millions in profits for owners.15 Except for the superstars, ballplayers led a vagabond, insecure existence. By disclosing these conditions, Bouton thought fellow ballplayers would appreciate him blowing the whistle. Instead, they complained about him violating their privacy and tarnishing their reputations.

By the late 1960s, however, the Major League Baseball Players Association (MLBPA) was beginning its assault on their peonage. In 1968, two years after Marvin Miller joined the union as executive director, the MLBPA negotiated the first-ever collective-bargaining agreement in professional sports. Minimum salaries increased from $6,000 to $10,000. Two years later, the MLBPA established players’ rights to binding arbitration over salaries and grievances. Most importantly, Bouton helped overturn the renewal clause that prevented players from offering their services to the highest bidder. In 1970, with union support, outfielder Curt Flood filed a lawsuit against Major League Baseball for trading him without his consent, which he claimed violated federal antitrust laws. “Marvin Miller called me up,” Bouton recalled, “and said, ‘We’d like to have you put Ball Four in testimony against the owners.’” The union had been accumulating “stories about ballplayers being taken advantage of by the owners.” Miller claimed that Ball Four “played a significant role in the removal of baseball’s reserve clause.”16

In 1972, the US Supreme Court ruled against Flood, but in 1975, Miller persuaded pitchers Andy Messersmith and Dave McNally to play that season without a contract, and then file a grievance arbitration. The arbitrator ruled in their favor, paving the way to free agency, which allows players to choose which team they want to work for, veto proposed trades, and bargain for the best contract. By then Bouton was out of the majors, but it was part of his legacy. While Bouton’s book became a bestseller, he paid dearly in baseball, temporarily blacklisted from playing and excluded from ballparks such as Yankee Stadium.17

Born in Newark, New Jersey, in 1939, Bouton attracted attention as a pitcher after moving to the Chicago suburbs in his teens. He studied painting briefly at the Art Institute of Chicago, attended Western Michigan University for a year, and signed a contract with the New York Yankees in 1958. After three years in the minor leagues, he made the Yankees roster in 1962. In 36 appearances, including 16 starts, he went 7–7 with a 3.99 ERA, and got a World Series ring when the Yankees beat the San Francisco Giants in the Fall Classic.

Bouton’s agitations for fair treatment by management began years before the idea of writing a book began to flicker. After earning the MLB minimum ($7,000 according to Ball Four, though other sources list the minimum at $5,000) as a rookie, Bouton asked for a raise. He was offered a tiny bump, if he “made the team.” Bouton was incredulous: “What do you mean if I make the team?” he asked Yankees executive Dan Topping. “I was with the team the whole year; why wouldn’t I make it? Why would you even want to plant that kind of doubt in the mind of a rookie pitcher?”18

Resorting to the usual ploy, Topping reminded Bouton that he’d be making more money in October since the Yankees always made the World Series. Bouton said: “Fine, I’ll sign a contract that guarantees me $10,000 more at the end of the season if we don’t win the pennant.” Instead, Topping offered the same contract, regardless whether Bouton made the team, and Bouton again refused. Yankees General Manager Roy Hamey called Bouton, yelling that he’d be making the biggest mistake of his life if he didn’t sign. Bouton hung up on him. Topping tried again, and they settled for a bigger but still meager raise.19

In 1963, a six-month hitch in the Army kept Bouton out of the rotation until mid-May, but he nevertheless had a sensational season, going 21–7 with a 2.53 ERA plus 10 relief appearances. He emerged as one of baseball’s top young pitchers and appeared in that season’s All-Star Game. The Los Angeles Dodgers beat the Yankees in the World Series by winning four straight games. Bouton pitched superbly in game three, giving up only four hits and one run in seven innings, but he was bested by Dodger hurler Don Drysdale, who threw a three-hit shutout.

After that season, Bouton claimed he deserved a much bigger raise, but again the Yankees stonewalled. Bouton asked the Yankees to double his salary to $21,000. GM Ralph Houk refused, offering $18,500 instead. Bouton told The New York Times, “Right now I wouldn’t even say we were in the same neighborhood.” Houk threatened to reduce his salary by $100 each day he held out and report to spring training camp. With few alternatives, Bouton signed for $18,500.20 He might not have even gotten that had he not broken the taboo against discussing one’s salary with teammates and the press. He told the angry Houk that he talked to reporters to “let them know I’m being reasonable” in his salary requests. Many writers began to take his side.

Bouton repeated his pitching success in 1964, finishing 18–13 with a 3.02 ERA. He led the league in starts and won two World Series games. But besides his salary demands, Bouton began speaking out on social issues, and his teammates and Yankees management began regarding him as a flake. They found him too intelligent and outspoken for his own good, an outside agitator disturbing the status quo. He typically sat at the back of the team bus, reading! He was considered a free thinker, “which in those days was one step away from being a Communist, to conservative sports minds,” observed sportswriter Ron Kaplan.21

The Yankees tolerated this until Bouton suddenly became a marginal performer in 1965. Probably from overuse the previous two years, Bouton began having arm problems and slipped to 4–15 with a 4.82 ERA as the Yankees dropped to sixth place. His ERA bounced back in 1966 to 2.69, but poor run support held his won-loss record to 3–8.

Bouton and his liberal opinions had become expendable. After opening the 1967 season with the Yankees, the club demoted him to their Syracuse farm team, where he posted a 3.36 ERA but only a 2–8 record.22 He made it back to the majors in August, pitching much better, and made the Yankees roster again the next year.

His tenure with the Yankees was already in jeopardy when the South African Non-Racial Olympic Committee (SAROC) approached him in early 1968 to sign a petition protesting the ban on non-white athletes on that country’s team, scheduled to play in the Olympic Games in Mexico City. In a country that was 80% black, the team was 100% white. Bouton became friendly with SANROC’s executive secretary—South African anti-apartheid activist Dennis Brutus—who Bouton called “the greatest man I ever met.”23

“We need fellow athletes to stand up for us and change this injustice,” Bouton argued. Signing the petition, he thought, was a “no brainer.”24 Bouton believed his would be one of hundreds of signatures from major leaguers, but only a few, including his teammate Ruben Amaro, signed. The poor response appalled Bouton. A planned press conference was canceled, but the two ballplayers traveled to Mexico City anyway, only to be rebuffed by the Olympic Committee. “They knew all about the discrimination against the black South African athletes,” Bouton observed, “and they simply didn’t care. They were a bunch of pompous racists. It was sickening.”25 He wrote about the issue and his ordeal for Sport magazine later that year.26

The Yankees sold Bouton mid-season to the expansion Seattle Pilots, a team that wouldn’t begin play until 1969. Bouton finished out the 1968 season with the Triple-A Seattle Angels, teaching himself how to throw a knuckleball because he had lost the velocity on his fast ball.

During his time with the Yankees, Bouton had taken notes. Bouton had befriended sportswriter Leonard Shecter, who encouraged him to keep it up while playing for the Pilots (and later, the Astros).27When the Pilots played in New York, Bouton would visit Shecter’s apartment and the two men would look over Bouton’s notes, which he wrote on envelopes, toilet paper, hotel stationery, and airplane airsick bags. (Bouton’s notes are now housed at the Library of Congress). These notes and sessions ultimately produced Ball Four.

Shecter was Bouton’s collaborator and co-author, not his ghost-writer. Bouton was busy trying to make his baseball comeback, but, as Nathanson notes, he was already glimpsing the possibility of a second career as a writer and journalist. Overall, Bouton pitched in 80 games that season, almost all in relief. He had reason to believe he’d resurrected his career.

In 1969, Bouton supported students protesting the war and signed anti-war petitions. He spoke against the Vietnam War at a rally in New York’s Central Park. Eager to participate and recruit other athletes, Bouton observed: “What I’m doing now, with the Moratorium group, is no major concerted effort. I’m just feeling some players out. But it is not like Jim Bouton is trying to rouse guys. A lot of them feel the same way I do, about the war and about other types of involvement. And there are many who want to express these feelings.” He added, “We’re always being used for telling kids to stay in school, to brush their teeth. Why can’t we tell them how we feel about things like the Vietnam War? And athletes do have influence.”28

Bouton was also bothered by his teammates’ racism and the institutional racism of the teams and the leagues. He was repulsed by the segregation in spring training (mostly held in Florida) and during the season in Southern cities. He was angered watching Emmett Ashford—who in 1966 became the first black major league umpire—being repeatedly ridiculed by his white colleagues. More than a decade after Jackie Robinson broke baseball’s color line in 1947, Bouton witnessed his teammates subject Elston Howard, the Yankees’ first black player, to endless humiliations.29

A handful of baseball players did use their celebrity to express their political views. For example, following Martin Luther King’s assassination in April 1968, Pittsburgh Pirates stars Roberto Clemente and Maury Wills urged their teammates to refuse to play on Opening Day and the following day, when America would be watching or listening to King’s funeral. At a team meeting, the players unanimously endorsed the idea and persuaded the Houston Astros players, whom they were scheduled to play, to join them. Players on other teams followed their lead. Commissioner William Eckert, his back against the wall, reluctantly moved all Opening Day games to April 10. But such rebellions were rare, especially among white players.

Bouton was part of Houston’s starting rotation through May, making his last start on May 24. Ball Four came out in June 1970. Bouton struggled to regain his place in the rotation, but the backlash against the book didn’t help.

A few ballplayers defended Bouton’s book. Cy Young Award winner Mike Marshall said, “I thought it was a celebration. I thought it was funny, and made us look far better than we were. It made us look human, and vulnerable, and struggling, all the things we were.”

But most players didn’t see it that way. They viewed Bouton as a “rat,” revealing their foibles, weaknesses, and indiscretions. Bouton wasn’t the very first to write a candid diary, but he may as well have been. He was following in the footsteps of another pitcher-turned-writer, Jim Brosnan, who published The Long Season in 1960.30 Chronicling his experience of splitting the 1959 season between the St. Louis Cardinals and the Cincinnati Reds, Brosnan avoided the usual, sanitized portrayal, addressing some issues normally confined to the clubhouse. Although former major leaguer and sports broadcaster Joe Garagiola called the strait-laced Brosnan a “kooky beatnik,”31 The Long Season offered relatively tame revelations. While Brosnan broke ground and began lifting the veil, Bouton’s book was more irreverent and forthright, and engendered a stronger backlash.

When Bouton faced the Cincinnati Reds, Pete Rose shouted: “Fuck you, Shakespeare.”32 In three successive anti-Bouton articles, New York Daily News sportswriter Dick Young portrayed Bouton as a “social leper” and a “commie in baseball stirrups.”33 To him, Bouton had committed the cardinal sin: he tarnished baseball icon Mickey Mantle, by suggesting that maybe it wasn’t Mantle’s injuries that shortened his career but rather his drinking problem and skirt-chasing until all hours of the morning.34

The Houston Astros management forbade their radio and TV announcers from mentioning the book.35 American League president Joe Cronin called Ball Four “unforgivable.”

Commissioner Kuhn demanded a meeting with Bouton. Before that meeting, however, Bouton got a boost from a positive book review by New York Times sportswriter Robert Lipsyte: “Bouton should be given baseball’s most valuable salesman of the year award. His anecdotes and insights are enlightening, hilarious, and most important, unavailable elsewhere. They breathe new life into a game choked by pontificating statisticians, image-conscious officials, and scared ballplayers.”37

Not all fans turned against Bouton. On the day of the meeting with Kuhn, two college freshmen, Steve Bergen and Richard Feuer, appeared outside Kuhn’s office, protesting with placards reading: “Jim Bouton is a Real Hero,” “No Punishment for Exposing the Truth,” and “Kuhn: Stop Repression and Harassment.”38

Like other young antiwar activists and students of the time, they viewed Kuhn as an example of the establishment trying to shut up their generation. According to Bergen: “…[Dick] Young’s comments smacked of the same authoritarian putdown of kids growing up in the ‘60s. Bouton was a hero for being willing to tell the truth about an aspect of society… the whole ‘60s movement was about questioning authority.”39

Players union executive director Marvin Miller, union attorney Richard Moss, and Shecter joined Bouton at the meeting with Kuhn. The commissioner claimed that Bouton was undermining baseball, but Bouton responded: “You’re wrong… People will be more interested in baseball, not less… People are turned off by the phony goody-goody image.” Kuhn said Bouton owed “it to the game because it gave you what you have,” but Bouton protested: “I always gave baseball everything I had. Besides, baseball didn’t give me anything. I earned it.”40

Kuhn ordered Bouton to release a statement saying he falsified or exaggerated his stories, but Bouton refused. When Kuhn told him to regard the meeting as a warning, Miller shot back: “A warning against what…against writing about baseball?… You can’t subject someone to future penalties on such vague criteria.”41 Kuhn told Bouton that he was going to issue a statement threatening players with punishment for any further writing like Ball Four. He told Bouton that he should remain silent. Again, Bouton refused. The controversy helped turn the book into a bestseller.42

New York Congressman Richard Ottinger claimed the Commissioner’s actions were “part of a growing mood of repression in the country” that indicated “an intolerable arrogance [by] the official baseball establishment.” Ottinger threatened to approach the House Judiciary Committee about Kuhn’s denial of individual rights.43

Meanwhile, Bouton’s pitching was not improving. After being demoted to the Oklahoma City minor league team, he had two more bad starts in Triple A and decided to retire from playing, but the far-reaching effects of Ball Four were just beginning.

Bouton’s book helped change sports writing. While the old-timers condemned Bouton, younger people who read Ball Four became sportswriters because of the book. A new wave of writers abandoned the deification of ballplayers and instead looked for unconventional angles. In The New Yorker, Roger Angell described the book as “a rare view of a highly complex public profession seen from the innermost inside, along with an even more rewarding inside view of an ironic and courageous mind.”

According to Stephen Jay Gould, a Harvard paleontologist and baseball writer, Ball Four inaugurated a “post-modern Boutonian revolution,” revealing that “heroes were not always what they were thought to be, questioning the masculine ideal in the professional game, and encouraging the reader to look beyond the media’s interpretations.” George Foster of the Boston Globe called the book a “revolutionary manifesto.” New York Times writer David Halberstam observed that Bouton “has written… a book deep in the American vein, so deep in fact that it is by no means a sports book….. [A] comparable insider’s book about, say, the Congress of the United States, the Ford Motor Company, or the Joint Chiefs of Staff would be equally welcome.”

As MLB historian John Thorn later observed, Ball Four was “a political work, and a milestone in the generational divide that characterized the 1960s. It is the product of a widespread rebellion against both authority and received wisdom.”44 According to writer Nathan Rabin: “The times were changing outside the ballpark, but the major-league mindset seemed stuck somewhere in the mid-’50s. The old guard still ruled with crew cuts, knee-jerk patriotism, reactionary politics, and a near-religious belief in… maintaining the status quo.”45

MLB officials pressured, if not required, players to wear their hair short to counter the hippies of the period. According to Bouton: “If the choice for a pinch hitter or a relief pitcher was between a long-haired guy and a short-haired guy, the [latter] would get into the game.” But, Bouton explained, in the broader society, everything was being called into question. “All the assumptions…rules…ways of doing things, [the era] tossed them all up in the air, and forced people to take another look.…I don’t think it occurred to me that, ‘Gee, all these other people are kicking up a fuss, maybe I should write a book that does the same thing.’ [B]ut you are a part of your environment.”

According to sociologist Elizabeth O’Connell, Ball Four may have advanced the cause of women by challenging America’s masculine ideal. Previous sports books were hagiographies, “reinforcing Horatio Alger myths of self-made men who through dedication and determination were able to rise above their circumstances and become American heroes.” Instead, Ball Four portrays many players as adolescent adults who never matured: what psychologists call the “Peter Pan Syndrome.” “It’s an emasculating text, presenting players as boys who never grew up,” according to O’Connell. “By opening the clubhouse doors to the public and allowing the reader to see the reality of ballplayers’ lives, Bouton contradicted the concept of the male athletic body symbolizing strength of character.”46

With his baseball career apparently ended in 1970, Bouton became a television sportscaster in New York for WABC and then WCBS. Not surprisingly, he was also regarded as a maverick in his new profession. He refused to waste time reading the scores of games during his newscasts, recognizing that fans could get those in the newspaper. Rather than catering to the high-profile professional teams, he focused instead on lower level and lesser known sports, and didn’t just report but also participated, such as in roller derby matches or rodeo events. He urged people to play sports rather than merely watch them.

In 1971, Bouton published a second book, I’m Glad You Didn’t Take It Personally, mostly describing the reaction to Ball Four.47 Bouton made no apologies and expressed his view that sports should be part of ongoing consciousness-raising: “[A]thletes and entertainers have a special obligation to take a stand on issues of the day. In our profession, we tend to be tranquillizers for a whole nation. We contribute to a false feeling of well-being [when instead] we have a responsibility to let people know that, even though we are playing games, we are also aware of problems outside the ball fields.”

Bouton kept pitching in various adult leagues in New Jersey in the early 1970s, while continuing his journalism career. Then, in 1973, he got a phone call from actor Elliott Gould, with whom he had become friends after they met at an anti-war rally in New York and played pick-up basketball games together. Gould told him that he’d persuaded director Robert Altman to give Bouton the part in the film The Long Goodbye that Stacy Keach had been slated to play before he got sick. Bouton got respectful reviews for his acting debut. (The film was also noteworthy for an uncredited appearance by an unknown body-builder named Arnold Schwarzenegger). In 1976, Bouton also starred in a TV sitcom called Ball Four, playing a ballplayer named “Jim Barton” who was also a writer with a preoccupation with his teammates’ personal lives. The show was canceled after only five episodes.

But Bouton gave up his lucrative television career and budding acting career to pursue a baseball comeback. “I decided that my day to day happiness is more important,” he explained at the time.48 In 1975 he joined the Portland Mavericks in the independent Northwest League, earning $400 a month, the same as his teammates. He went 4–1 with a 2.20 ERA.

The Knoxville Sox in the Southern League signed Bouton in 1977, but things didn’t go well. His pitching improved when he moved to Durango in the Mexican League, and he finished the year back with the Portland Mavericks, compiling a 5–1 record. That success brought him back to the Southern League in 1978, this time with the Savannah Braves. He pitched well, going 11–9 with a 2.82 ERA.

Bouton pitched so well that the Atlanta Braves called him up later in the 1978 season, and at age 38, his comeback was complete, eight years after his initial retirement. He started five games and was 1–3 with a 4.97 ERA. Bouton could have returned with Atlanta in 1979, but he retired instead, having nothing left to prove to himself. In ten major league seasons he was 62–63 with a 3.57 ERA. He continued pitching competitively into his fifties.

When Bouton pitched for Portland in 1977, players were chewing tobacco and getting sick. One of his teammates, Rob Nelson, observed: “Too bad there isn’t something that looks like tobacco but tastes good like gum.” Bouton responded: “Hey, that’s a great idea. Shredded gum in a pouch, call it Big League Chew and sell it to every ballplayer in America.”

Bouton didn’t think any more about it, but after returning home at the end of the season, he remembered it and called up Nelson. Bouton put in the start-up money, contacted an attorney, and sold the idea to the Wrigley Chewing Gum Company. A big hit, the company has sold more than 800 million pouches since 1980 and it won a health and safety award from Collegiate Baseball Magazine for creating the first healthful alternative to chewing tobacco, no doubt sparing many ballplayers from mouth cancer. Bouton also coauthored a baseball murder mystery, Strike Zone.49 He would go on to update Ball Four three times, publishing new editions in 1981, 1990, and 2001, each time adding to his story.

Over the years, Bouton tried several times to make peace with Mickey Mantle, but not until Bouton sent a condolence note after Mantle’s son Billy died of cancer in 1994 did Mantle contact him. The two former teammates reconciled not long before Mantle’s death in 1995.50 For almost 30 years, the Yankees barred Bouton from participating in their annual Old Timers games. But in 1998, the Yankees ended their boycott, finally inviting Bouton back for that celebration. Bouton pitched one inning, enjoying an emotional reunion with fans and some old teammates.

But Bouton wasn’t finished protesting. In 2000, a Cuban boy, Elian Gonzalez, and his mother shipwrecked trying to enter the US from Cuba, and she drowned. The Clinton administration took custody of Gonzalez, intending to return him to his father, who wanted his son back with him in Cuba. But right-wing Cubans in Miami—a powerful political force—wanted him kept in the US as a rebuke of Fidel Castro. Several Cuban ballplayers launched a one-day walkout to oppose the return, and Commissioner Bud Selig backed the move. Having previously rejected political activism by ballplayers, MLB was suddenly claiming its support was a matter of “social responsibility.”

Bouton called out MLB’s hypocrisy. MLB had consistently refused to speak out against injustices such as the Vietnam War and South African apartheid and was now pretending to take a stand. The players were “once again exhibiting typically sheeplike behavior,” Bouton observed. “Cuban players are not acting from political courage but from fear of reprisal from their own community.”51

In 2001, Bouton learned that an old ballpark in Pittsfield, near his home in western Massachusetts, would be abandoned in favor of a new field, to be built in the city’s downtown. Wahconah Park wasn’t just any ballfield. It was (and still is) one of the oldest minor league ballparks in the US and among the few remaining wooden grandstand fields. Although the ballpark was built in 1919, ballgames had been played on that spot as far back as 1892. Bouton decided to step in to save the stadium, and renovate it not with public money but by selling shares to ensure ownership by local fans of the team. The plan generated strong public support, but local media, politicians, and business leaders wanted taxpayers to fund a new ballpark on the site of an abandoned General Electric factory that the federal government had determined was a toxic waste dump.

Pursuing his campaign, Bouton discovered that in the previous 15 years, $16 billion of taxpayer money had been spent on new stadiums, replacing more than 100 older, beloved ballparks, “because baseball’s powers-that-be can get away with it. They have a monopoly, granted by the federal government, and they use it to bludgeon local governments to bid against each other for the right to teams.”

“These owners are capitalists who don’t want capitalism,” Bouton explained. “When sports owners don’t have to use their own money to build stadiums and make enormous profits—when American taxpayers subsidize these wealthy owners—it’s massive corporate welfare.”52

To address not only his Wahconah Park experience but also these broader ballpark issues in the US, Bouton turned his extensive notes into a book, Foul Ball: My Life and Hard Times Trying to Save An Old Ballpark.53 He had a contract with a publisher, PublicAffairs, and was ready to launch a 16-city tour to promote the book in 2002. Before publication, however, the publisher told Bouton he would have to delete his discussion of General Electric or the book would be dead. Shocked at the publisher’s complicity, Bouton instead created his own publishing company, Bulldog Press, and released the book on his own in 2003 at a considerable cost to himself. Lyons Press published an updated version in 2005.

Local political and business leaders in Pittsfield undermined Bouton’s restoration and public ownership plan. The town ultimately lost minor league baseball, but he still fought to keep the game alive at the old ballpark. From baseball historian John Thorn, Bouton learned that Pittsfield had the additional attraction of having been one of the oldest places where baseball was known to have been played in the US, dating back to 1791.

In response, Bouton helped create the Vintage Base Ball Federation, bringing nineteenth century baseball rules, uniforms, and atmosphere to cities and towns across the nation. Bouton arranged a vintage baseball game at Wahconah Park on July 3, 2004, when a record crowd of 5,000 fans watched a contest between the Pittsfield Hillies and the Hartford Senators. ESPN Classic telecast the game live for over four hours, billing it as “America’s Pastime: Vintage Baseball Live.” The network commentators included baseball historians John Thorn and David Pietrusza, Bull Durham actor Tim Robbins, as well as Bouton and former major league pitcher Bill “Spaceman” Lee. Bouton and Lee each pitched an inning in the game.

Despite his setback in Pittsfield, Bouton remained active on the stadium issue. After the Montreal Expos became the Washington Nationals in 2005, the new owners persuaded Washington city officials to subsidize construction of a new stadium, Nationals Park. Bouton was outraged, claiming it was bad enough that a profitable ball club would rip off the public but it was even more appalling in an economically troubled city: “How anyone could walk through the public schools of Washington, DC, and then say that paying for a new professional baseball stadium should be that city’s priority, amazes me.”54

In 2004 Bouton appeared in Brooklyn to support the Prospect Heights Action Coalition in its efforts to block another taxpayer-funded stadium proposal that would destroy historic buildings.55 With the support of New York City’s political establishment, including Mayor Michael Bloomberg, billionaire developer Bruce Ratner’s company Forest City Ratner sought to bulldoze homes and small businesses belonging to hundreds of families to make way for what eventually became the Atlantic Yards project, which included Barclays Center, an indoor arena that is now the home to the NBA’s Nets, the New York Islanders of the National Hockey League, and the New York Liberty of the Women’s National Basketball Association.

Calling the proposal’s tax abatement provision “corporate welfare,” Bouton decried the same “fuzzy financing” and “secret meetings” he had encountered in Pittsfield. “You’re not alone, this is an issue nationwide,” Bouton told the crowd. “If this stadium gets built, 20 years from now you’ll hear: ‘These [celebrity architect] Frank Gehry stadiums are out of date. So we’re going to be leaving Brooklyn for another place with a [post-9/11 World Trade Center architect, Daniel] Libeskind stadium.’ Don’t let it happen.”

The same year, after the US launched an illegal, preemptive attack on Iraq, Bouton spoke out against the war. “I opposed it,” recalled Bouton, “because although the US had the means to be successful militarily…[ w]e didn’t have nearly enough understanding of that country’s language and culture, just like in Vietnam. In the US, our rocket science is way ahead of our social science.”56

Handicapped by a stroke in 2012, Bouton announced in 2017 that he had cerebral amyloid angiopathy, a brain disease. He died two years later at age 80 at his home in western Massachusetts.

Bouton did not set out to be a literary or political revolutionary. As he recalled, he grew up as a “conservative kid”57 and viewed himself as an “old fashioned guy.” He ended Ball Four observing: “You spend a good piece of your life gripping a baseball and in the end it turns out that it was the other way around all the time.”58 

PETER DREIER teaches politics at Occidental College. ROBERT ELIAS teaches politics at the University of San Francisco. Their books, Baseball Rebels (University of Nebraska Press) and Major League Rebels (Rowman & Littlefield), will be published in April 2022.

Notes

  1. Karl E.H. Seigfried, “Jim Bouton, Pray for Us,” The Wild Hunt, August 24, 2019 https://wildhunt.org/2019/08/column-jim-bouton-pray-for-us.html.

  2. Jim Bouton, with Leonard Shecter, Ball Four: My Life and Hard Times Throwing the Knuckleball in the Big Leagues (New York: The World Publishing, 1970).

  3. New York Public Library, Books of the Century, https://www.nypl.org/voices/print-publications/books-of-the-century.

  4. Time Magazine, “All-Time Greatest Non-Fiction Books” https://www.goodreads.com/list/show/12719.Time_Magazine_s_All_TIME_100_Best_Non_Fiction_Books. In contrast, in 2001 the Baseball Reliquary, a Pasadena-based non-profit organization that Bouton called “the people’s hall of fame,” inducted him into its Shrine of the Eternals and in 2009 hosted a celebration of Ball Four’s 40-year anniversary that included Bouton and his former Seattle Pilots teammates Greg Goossen and Tommy Davis.

  5. William Ryczek, Baseball on the Brink: The Crisis of 1968 (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2017), 95.

  6. John Thorn, “Jim Bouton Interviewed,” Our Game, July 16, 2019, https://ourgame.mlblogs.com/jim-bouton-interviewed-2d0930e2ecb9.

  7. Joan Mellen, “Jim Bouton,” in Cult Baseball Players—The Greats, the Flakes, the Weird, and the Wonderful, ed. Danny Peary (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1990), 160.

  8. Terry Gross, “Jim Bouton Destroys Illusions About Baseball,” Fresh Air, December 8, 1986. https://freshairarchive.org/segments/jim-boutondestroys-illusions-about-baseball.

  9. Stan Grossfeld, “Jim Bouton Still as Opinionated as Ever,” Boston Globe, July 18 2014, https://www.bostonglobe.com/sports/2014/07/17/catching-with-ever-opinionated-jim-bouton/ynmwU7CYTMS2qveyeSh3KJ/story.html.

10. Anthony D. Bush, “Knuckleball on Paper: Jim Bouton’s Effect on Sports Autobiographies” Presented at Society of American Baseball Research Seymour Medal Conference, Cleveland. April 17, 1999, www.gpc.peachnet.edu/~dbush/bouton.htm.

11. Mellen, “Jim Bouton,” 161.

12. Jim Bouton, Ball Four: The Final Pitch (New York: Turner Publishing, 2014), 147–48.

13. Mitchell Nathanson, Bouton: The Life of a Baseball Original (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2020).

14. Mellen, “Jim Bouton,” 158.

15. Even star players didn’t earn enough during the season to make ends meet. In his Hall of Fame Induction speech, Nolan Ryan mentioned working in a gas station during the winter. Jim Palmer got an $11,000 World Series bonus after the Orioles won the 1966 World Series, and still had to take a job in a department store selling suits to cover “groceries, hot water, and electricity.” Loren Kantor, “When Ballplayers Had Offseason Jobs,” Medium, August 13, 2020. https://medium.com/buzzer-beater/whenballplayers-had-offseason-jobs-66bba31cecb2.

16. Marvin Miller, A Whole Different Ballgame (Chicago: Ivan Dee Publishers, 2004), 85.

17. Matt Schudel, “Jim Bouton, Baseball Pitcher Whose ‘Ball Four’ Gave Irreverent Peak Inside the Game, Dies at 80,” Washington Post, July 10, 2019. https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/obituaries/jim-boutonbaseball-pitcher-whose-ball-four-gave-irreverent-peek-inside-the-game-dies-at-80/2019/07/10/f73acf52-b4e5-11e7-9e58-e6288544af98_tory.html.

18. John Florio and Ouisie Shapiro, One Nation Under Baseball: How the 1960s Collided with the National Pastime. (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2017), 38.

19. Florio and Shapiro, One Nation Under Baseball, 39.

20. Ryczek, Baseball on the Brink, 101–02.

21. Ron Kaplan, “The Legacy of Ball Four,” Huffington Post, May 25, 2011, https://www.huffingtonpost.com/ron-kaplan/the-legacy-of-ballfour_b_709682.html.

22. Jim Bouton, “Returning to the Minors,” Sport, April 1968: 30.

23. Dave Zirin, “A Q&A With the Late, Great Jim Bouton,” The Nation, July 12, 2019, https://www.thenation.com/article/jim-bouton.

24. Zirin, “A Q&A With the Late, Great Jim Bouton.”

25. Steve Treder, “THT Interview: Jim Bouton,” The Hardball Times, January 10, 2006, https://www.fangraphs.com/tht/the-tht-interviewjim-bouton.

26. Jim Bouton, “A Mission in Mexico,” Sport. August 1969: 35.

27. Leonard Shecter, “Jim Bouton—Everything In Its Place,” Sport, March 1964: 71–73.

28. All-Star pitcher Tom Seaver was another white ballplayer who spoke out against the Vietnam war. See Kelly Candaele and Peter Dreier, “Tom Seaver’s Major League Protest,” The Nation, September 11, 2020. https://www.thenation.com/article/society/tom-seaver-vietnamprotest.

29. David Keyser, “Baseball Ball Four,” Harvard Crimson, October 13, 1970, http://www.thecrimson.com/article/1970/10/13/baseball-ball-fourworld-publishing-company.

30. Jim Brosnan, The Long Season (New York: Harper & Row, 1960).

31. Steve Chawkins, “Jim Brosnan Dies at 84; Relief Pitcher Wrote Inside Look at Baseball,” Los Angeles Times, July 6, 2014, https://www.latimes.com/local/obituaries/la-me-jimbrosnan-20140707-story.html.

32. Stan Hochman, “Life Writes Bouton a New Ending to ‘Ball Four’,” Philadelphia Daily News, December 7, 2020. Retrieved May 12, 2020.

33. Dick Young, “Young Ideas” Daily News, May 28, 1970: C26; Ryczek, Baseball on the Brink, 181.

34. Florio and Shapiro, One Nation Under Baseball, 183.

35. Jim Bouton, I’m Glad You Didn’t Take It Personally (New York: William Morrow, 1971), 137.

36. John Florio and Ouisie Shapiro, One Nation Under Baseball: How t he 1960s Collided with the National Pastime (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2017), 183.

37. Robert Lipsyte, “Sports of the Times,” The New York Times, June 22, 1970: 67.

38. Florio and Shapiro, One Nation Under Baseball, 186–87.

39. Florio and Shapiro, One Nation Under Baseball, 187.

40. Florio and Shapiro, One Nation Under Baseball, 188.

41. Florio and Shapiro, One Nation Under Baseball, 189.

42. Ryczek, Baseball on the Brink, 178–79.

43. Florio and Shapiro, One Nation Under Baseball, 190.

44. John Thorn, “Jim Bouton: An Improvisational Life,” Our Game. December 16, 2016, https://ourgame.mlblogs.com/jim-bouton-an-improvisationallife-5237aa5d438a.

45. Nathan Rabin, “Jim Bouton’s Ball Four,” April 17, 2009, https://www.avclub.com/jimbouton-s-ball-four-1798216529.

46. Elizabeth O’Connell, “Now Batting, Peter Pan: Jim Bouton’s Ball Four and Baseball’s Boyish Culture,” in The Cooperstown Symposium on Baseball and American Culture, 2007–2008, ed. William Simons (Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, 2009), 61–78; see also: Ron Briley, Class at Bat, Gender on Deck and Race in the Hole: A Line-Up of Essays on Twentieth Century Culture and America’s Game (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2003), 308.

47. Jim Bouton, with Leonard Shecter, I’m Glad You Didn’t Take It Personally (New York: William Morrow, 1971).

48. Paul Goldman, Peter Dreier, and Mimi Goldman, “Jim Bouton Follows His Dream,” In These Times, September 28–October 4, 1977

49. Jim Bouton and Eliot Asinof, Strike Zone (New York: Viking, 1994).

50. Zirin, “A Q&A With the Late, Great Jim Bouton.”

51. Miles Seligman, “The Boy-cotts of Summer,” Village Voice, May 20, 2000, https://www.villagevoice.com/2000/05/02/sports-27.

52. Ted Miller, “Jim Bouton Still Brings It With Gusto from the Inside,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer, June 30, 2006, https://www.seattlepi.com/sports/baseball/article/Jim-Bouton-stillbrings-it-with-gusto-from-the-1207789.php.

53. Jim Bouton, Foul Ball: My Fight to Save An Old Ballpark. (Great Barrington, MA: Bulldog Publishing, 2010).

54. Treder, “THT Interview: Jim Bouton.”

55. Deborah Kolben, “Jim Bouton Cries ‘Foul’ Over Arena,” Brooklyn Paper, January 10, 2004, https://www.brooklynpaper.com/jim-bouton-criesfoul-over-arena.

56. Treder, “THT Interview: Jim Bouton.”

57. Florio and Shapiro, One Nation Under Baseball, 183.

58. Bouton, Ball Four: The Final Pitch, 397.

Although Al Kaline obviously deserved the many accolades he received as an exceptional athlete with admirable personal characteristics, misconceptions have long existed regarding the severity of challenges he faced in his youth and during his 22-year professional baseball career. This article will address a litany of circumstances that he encountered and explain how he overcame most of them. Before discussing specific instances, however, the causes of those misconceptions should be identified.

Viewing Kaline’s career in retrospect, it may be observed that the stage for the troubling episodes that would occur later in his career was set in 1955 when, as a 20-year-old with a bothersome physical issue, he posted the highest batting average in the American League. As a result of that remarkable achievement, waves of compliments from baseball luminaries and scribes flowed forth and registered with people across the baseball spectrum. Those plaudits frequently included a comparison with Joe DiMaggio that would create unrealistic expectations of his potential. Immediate linkage with the legend of the Yankee Clipper, along with other premature declarations of greatness and minimization of facts that failed to fit into a storybook narrative, would adversely affect evaluations of Kaline’s performance for at least a decade as he achieved stardom but failed to win another batting title or bring a pennant to Detroit.

Consider these statements regarding Kaline’s talent and promise, all from respected sources, starting with the scout who signed him to a major-league contract:

• “He was the kind of prospect a scout sees in his dream.” — Tigers scout Ed Katalinas1
• “He was the prospect that a scout creates in his mind and then prays that someone will come along to fit the pattern.” — Katalinas2
• “Kaline, the slender but slick bonus baby from Baltimore, is the hottest item on the [Tigers’] squad…The way he is performing will make it practically impossible for (manager Fred) Hutchinson to keep him out of his outfield. Kaline has slapped out nine hits in 16 tries for a sparkling .563 average. … He is the fastest man in camp. He is an excellent fielder. His throwing arm is strong. Despite his age, his baseball savvy is sound.” — Lyall Smith, sports editor of the Detroit Free Press, March 1954 during Kaline’s first spring training with the Tigers3
• “[Kaline] can run and he can throw. Now he is proving that … he can hit. He got his 100th hit of the [1954 season] before mid-August, and that’s not bad for a youngster who one season ago was battling for his high school team in Baltimore. At 19 … he looks fragile but then so does a scalpel.” — Smith in the Free Press describing the very young prospect to readers, many of whom had yet to see him play4
• “He’s going to be one of the great right-handed hitters of baseball, if he isn’t that already.” — Ted Williams, 19555
• “Kaline is a graceful, right-handed swinger, who also is one of the best right fielders in the league. He is equipped with a fine arm, good speed, and has excellent judgment on the bases. … He joined the Tigers, upon payment of a $30,000 bonus, directly after his graduation from high school. Two and a half years later, he has reached a salary bracket that might very well match that tidy bonus.” — Hy Goldberg, journalist and editor of Who’s Who in the Big Leagues6
• “Even in the major leagues, players are conscious that there are a few who are involved in a different game, whose skill level is unattainable to most others. Kaline was one of these.” — George Cantor, Detroit Free Press7
• “At 19, [Kaline] was Detroit’s regular right fielder and acclaimed the best glove man to field that spot in Tiger history. At 20, he had led the American League in batting and was named the player of the year. … With credentials like these, Sid Keener up in Cooperstown was already dusting off a cubicle in the Hall of Fame for the slender clouter. … In style and ease of performance he is the closest approximation we have to the flawless rhythm of Joe DiMaggio on a baseball diamond.” — Murray Olderman, sports cartoonist and writer8
• “Comparisons with Joe DiMaggio…were inevitable. Both players were smooth and graceful. Both made the game look easy.” — Jim Hawkins, Detroit Free Press9
• “[Kaline] played the game so smoothly, with such class that he was the closest thing to DiMaggio that I ever saw.” — Ted Williams, 199210
• “Kaline was probably one of the best of all time. He could do it all. I thought he was another Joe DiMaggio.” — Joe DeMaestri, former major-league infielder11
• “In [the late 1950s], Kaline was as complete a player as Joe DiMaggio [had been].” — Gus Zernial, former major-league outfielder and teammate of Kaline in 1958 and 195912
• “[Kaline] … had great instincts in the outfield. He was smooth and graceful.” — Ernie Harwell13

Yearbooks published annually by the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum after Kaline’s induction invariably praised the Tigers’ star as “a model of consistency who got the job done with a minimum amount of fanfare.”14 The accuracy of that statement — along with the frequent use of descriptive adjectives such as “graceful” and “smooth” regarding his style of play — resulted in cursory examinations by media sources into the difficulties he faced throughout his playing career. Rarely was Kaline’s chronic physical ailment described as clearly it was by journalists Daniel Okrent and Steve Wulf when they wrote that he “played with such grace that most Tigers fans never realized he also played in pain because of a bone condition that left him with what he called ‘a constant toothache in my left foot.’”15

One prominent Detroit writer who initially misgauged Kaline’s immense talent would later admit that the term “easy” should never have been associated with Kaline’s performance. Joe Falls wrote in 1965:

Falls would repeat his contention when Kaline was elected to the Hall of Fame, writing, “Everyone said what a nice thing it was because Kaline always made the game look so easy. It was never easy for him.”17

In 1980, author Art Hill concisely summarized the career of the Tigers’ star by writing, “Kaline … was born a star; he made himself a superstar.”18 The baseball great did so by overcoming a variety of environmental, physical, and psychological challenges with a persistence often unappreciated by those who saw him play.

POVERTY AND HEALTH CONCERNS

Fate threw punches at Kaline long before he attained legendary status on Baltimore’s sandlots and as a high school athlete, but a lack of devoted parents was not one of them. Nicholas and Naomi Kaline raised Al and his two older sisters in a row house in the working-class Westport section of Baltimore, about one mile from the current site of Oriole Park at Camden Yards.19 Both parents consistently encouraged their son’s love of baseball. The strong emotional support that Al received from his father in regard to his baseball development came naturally (his dad and his dad’s five brothers had played semipro baseball in their younger days), but the family struggled financially. Nicholas Kaline earned a meager living as a broom maker, and Naomi scrubbed floors and worked in a factory that produced pills.20 Jack Olsen of Sports Illustrated described the Kaline family as “poor, proud, and hungry” in a 1964 article.21

As his family contended with financial difficulties, Kaline himself had to deal with a troubling physical condition. At the age of eight, Kaline was diagnosed with osteomyelitis (a chronic bone disease) in his left foot. Doctors removed two inches of bone from the foot, but jagged scars and a permanent deformity unfortunately resulted.22 Despite the procedure, two toes on his left foot remained extended and the young boy found it necessary to reduce persistent pain by shifting his weight to his toes or by running on the side of his foot.23 Periodic treatments involving X-ray therapy were required to keep the disease in check.24

By the time Kaline signed his initial baseball contract with the Tigers in June 1953, the health of his parents had also become a concern. His mother’s eyesight was failing and surgery would be required to save it,25 while his father’s condition would later be described as “never too healthy.”26 In 1955, Kaline would reveal to writer Hal Middlesworth that his dad “was not real well and neither is Mom.”27 When Kaline inked that first contract with Detroit, he used the money to pay off the mortgage on his parents’ home and to pay for his mother’s operation before proceeding to move on to the next phase of his life.28

“BONUS BABY” AMONG MEN

By signing with the Detroit club upon graduation from Southern High School, the 18-year-old began a journey into major league baseball that was available to only a select group of prospects. Tigers scout Ed Katalinas had dedicated himself to signing Kaline during his high school years in the face of competing expressions of interest from the Brooklyn Dodgers, St. Louis Cardinals, and Philadelphia Phillies.29 After Katalinas convinced Tigers farm director John McHale and club president Walter O. “Spike” Briggs that Kaline would be worth the necessary financial cost, Briggs authorized a bonus payment of $15,000 as well as a $6,000 salary for the next two years.30 While the terms of this agreement did provide Kaline with badly needed cash, a “Bonus Rule” adopted by major league baseball in 1952 to restrict bidding wars for amateur players would dictate the path of his development and progression in the short term.

The Bonus Rule stipulated that any prospect signed to a bonus of $4,000 or more was required to spend his first two years in professional baseball on a major league roster.31 As promising as Kaline’s future seemed to be, several key people within the Tigers’ organization reserved judgment regarding his future as a big leaguer because bonus baby Frank House had failed to deliver positive results (to later signees, Bob Miller and Reno Bertoia, would also fail).32 McHale would later admit that the Kaline matter was approached with a five-year plan in mind: “Under the bonus arrangement we knew that we had to keep him on the roster for two years. When that period was up he could be sent out [to the minors] without bothering with waivers. We thought that it would take at least two more seasons in the minors, probably with our Triple-A club in Buffalo, before he could possibly be ready for the majors.”33

On the day of Kaline’s signing, the Tigers were in the American League’s cellar (nearly 30 games out of first-place) with a record of 15–43. The club’s front office was receiving harsh criticism from fans for a failure to acquire talented players.34 McHale would recall, “It was a tough time for us. We felt that we had to do something on the spectacular side to prove to our fans that we were hustling and trying hard to correct a bad situation.”35

Kaline played sparingly in 1953 as he began the process of adapting to life in the company of older and more experienced players. The Tigers initially evaluated Kaline as a second baseman or shortstop until the organization’s signing of infielder Reno Bertoia in late August of 1953 caused Kaline to be shifted to the outfield.36 He was pleased to receive valuable guidance from manager Fred Hutchinson and advice from veteran players. A few years later he would say, “Nobody resented my getting all that money. In fact, the two guys I beat out for a job in 1954 — Pat Mullin and Steve Souchock — were nicest to me.”37 He also gave credit to former teammate Johnny Pesky and third base coach Billy Hitchcock for helping him during the adjustment process.38

During spring training in 1954, Hutchinson confirmed that Kaline had made a good first impression and told reporters, “I’ve got to be shown that he can’t play in the big leagues right away.”39 The manager did not offer assurances that Kaline would be an everyday player but, when expected starter Souchock suffered a broken wrist while playing in the Cuban League prior to spring training, Kaline’s door of opportunity flew open.

Kaline played in 138 games in 1954 and posted a batting average of .276. Some criticism came his way for a lack of power: he homered only four times and drove in only 43 runs, and 114 of his 139 hits were singles. However, he distinguished himself in right field with solid overall fielding and by registering 16 assists with a strong and accurate arm.

He was adapting to life in the big leagues, and the stage was being set for stardom.

MISINTERPRETED DEMEANOR

Kaline was a very private man playing a very prominent role in a very public profession. Bucky Harris, who succeeded Hutchinson as the Tigers’ manager prior to the 1955 season, described Kaline’s personality as “pleasant and cooperative, but extremely reticent.”40 Lyall Smith of the Detroit Free Press wrote that he was “as hard to pump for a story as a deep well with a broken handle.”41 Such opinions were reflected on a broader basis.42 He was extremely uncomfortable with public speaking, avoiding it whenever possible.

Jack Olsen of Sports Illustrated would write in 1964, “Talking to Kaline is like making funeral arrangements.”43 Joe Falls of the Detroit News recalled that Kaline “was surly in (his) early years. He swung a sharp bat and spoke with a sharp tongue. If you had any questions, you approached him with apprehension.”44

Others, such as the authors of an article in a 1959 publication by Sport magazine, sought to analyze the reason for Kaline’s perceived persona: “An emotionless young man with green eyes and a sallow face, Kaline may suffer from the look he has. He looks like a brooder. … He feels he should hit the ball every time he is up, and when he doesn’t he is disappointed. People see the exterior of this disappointment, the kick at the water bucket, the grumbled answer to a question, the pout that is on his face.”45

The reticence was transferred into the clubhouse. George Cantor, a long-time Detroit reporter and columnist, described Kaline as “a private man, one who remained well within himself. Friendly but always holding back some private corner. … He had no speeches to make when the clubhouse doors were closed, no inspirational messages to impart. He led by the way he played.”46 Former Tigers infielder Jake Wood has spoken similarly, referring to his teammate as “the Silent Assassin” who “didn’t say much, but displayed a fierce competitiveness on the field.”47

Despite a reluctance to share details about his life, Kaline generally maintained satisfactory relations with the press, and his status as a gentleman was never questioned.48 As one of his sport’s genuine stars, he lived up to another statement by a sportswriter who knew him well: “Kaline was special — but only in the field. Off the field, he was just another guy. A guy who couldn’t be less impressed with himself.”49

STARDOM BRINGS HIGH EXPECTATIONS

Highly motivated to excel in the major leagues while possessing a reserved personality, Kaline would quickly learn in 1955 that avoiding the limelight would be impossible. His three home runs against the Kansas City Athletics in the Tigers’ sixth game of the season nearly matched his total of four round-trippers during the 1954 season and served notice that Kaline’s efforts during the off-season to increase his strength had been successful. (He had also added 22 pounds to his previously slender frame.) By the end of April, he had recorded a 14-game hitting streak and posted a batting average of .429. Fans of the Tigers began to believe that he would avoid the fate of other young Detroit players — such as Dick Wakefield, Hoot Evers, and Johnny Groth — who had in recent years seemed primed to become stars only to have to settle for more ordinary status.50

Kaline’s onslaught continued into the summer. At the end of July he was leading the American League in batting average, hits, runs scored, runs batted in, and home runs. He did go hitless for a short time in mid-September, but he bounced out of that temporary slump on a weekend in Cleveland with six hits against a solid pitching combination of Bob Lemon, Mike Garcia, and Ray Narleski. One week later, he secured a unique place in baseball history by becoming (with a mark of .340) the youngest player to win an American League batting title.

For Kaline, however, the euphoria of the 1955 season created the high and sometimes unrealistic expectations mentioned previously in this article. In the years that followed, he would often repeat words he spoke to Olsen in 1964: “The worst thing that happened to me in the big leagues was the start that I had. [That] put the pressure on me.”51

The burden felt by the new star can be understood by taking into account the opinions that have been cited, as well as the following:

• “He can’t miss. He’s got that extra-special look.” — Joe DiMaggio52
• “He won’t fall far short of Joe DiMaggio.” — Paul Richards, manager, Chicago White Sox and Baltimore Orioles53
• “I will take Kaline over Mantle or any other young outfielder you can name. This kid is going down with the great ones of all time.” — Fred Hutchinson54
• “I’m disappointed when he doesn’t get a hit. He’s got me spoiled.” — Bucky Harris, Kaline’s second manager in the major leagues55
• “He seems to have absorbed five years’ experience in two. We move the ball around on him and we haven’t found a spot yet that he can’t get at.” — Casey Stengel, manager, New York Yankees56

The pressures faced by the shy 20-year-old may be summarized by referring to an unrestrained comment that appeared in a widely-read 1956 publication: “Among an illustrious collection of Tiger batting kings — Ty Cobb, Harry Heilmann, Heinie Manush, Charlie Gehringer, and George Kell — Kaline in 1955 became the youngest Tiger to achieve the distinction, a scant one day younger than Cobb was when he won the first of his 12 titles. With all the years stretching out before him, something approaching Cobb’s remarkable record is not beyond the realm of possibility.”57

After capturing one batting title, the emerging Tigers star was already being compared to Ty Cobb! It is no wonder that Detroit’s new hero might have, at times, considered his sudden rise in status to be unfortunate.

INJURIES

Kaline dealt with a long list of aches, pains, and serious injuries along his path to the Hall of Fame. His first significant injury occurred during the 1954 season when he pursued a fly ball into the right-field corner of Detroit’s Briggs Stadium and collided with a wall that protruded into the playing field. The impact had two effects: a knee injury that caused him to be hospitalized for five days, and the ordered removal of seats by Tigers president “Spike” Briggs to prevent a subsequent injury to his organization’s valuable asset.58

Two abscessed teeth were removed during spring training in 1956 and, during the regular season, he fought a virus and injured a shoulder. He was plagued in 1957 by a sore shoulder, a bad foot, and general exhaustion. His left cheekbone was fractured in mid-June of 1959 when, after hitting into an apparent double play, he was nailed in the face by Baltimore second baseman Billy Gardner’s relay throw to first base.

In 1960, a combination of an injured left knee and low blood pressure caused Kaline’s production to drop to its lowest point since 1954. (Medication was prescribed to address the latter issue.)

The most publicized and memorable injury of Kaline’s career — one that reversed the Tigers’ fortunes in a tight pennant race — occurred in Yankee Stadium on May 26, 1962, and was viewed by a national television audience. Kaline executed a tumbling, game-ending catch of an Elston Howard drive into right field with the Tigers clinging to a 2–1 lead. If the sensational catch had not been made, Hector Lopez of the Yanks (running from first base) would have almost certainly scored the tying run. The catch, however, came at an enormous cost, and a diagnosis of a fractured right collarbone led winning pitcher Hank Aguirre to lament that “we won the game and lost the season.”59 The player who had been leading the American League in RBIs and who had been tied for the home run lead the day before would remain out of action until late July.

In 1963, a knee injury suffered in late May continued to hinder Kaline throughout the season and likely curtailed his opportunity to record a second batting title. After contending with Boston’s Carl Yastrzemski for the league’s highest average, the pain in Kaline’s knee worsened in the month of September, as he batted only .254 to end the season with a .312 average. The Red Sox star batted .326 during that month — and .321 overall — to capture the honor.

The effects of osteomyelitis in Kaline’s left foot that had plagued him since childhood grew extremely bothersome in 1964 and 1965. His big toe was curled almost completely over the toe next to it, and by the end of the 1965 season — a year in which he also missed 18 games due to a pulled rib cartilage60 — the resulting pain had intensified to such a degree that surgery was again required to reset bones in the foot.61

While avoiding misery from the effects of osteomyelitis had been beyond Kaline’s control, he did bear responsibility for an impulsive act that caused a major injury during the tight 1967 American League pennant race. After striking out against Cleveland’s Sam McDowell on June 27, Kaline slammed his bat into the bat rack in the Detroit dugout and fractured a finger. He missed the next 26 games and the Tigers went on to finish the season in a second-place tie with the Minnesota Twins, one game behind Boston. Kaline regretted his uncharacteristic display of emotion: “I wanted to do so much to help the ball club … I didn’t do my job. … I was very embarrassed about the whole thing afterwards.”62 He also termed his outburst “the dumbest thing I ever did.”63

A disappointing blow of a different kind occurred in the Tigers’ world championship year of 1968 when a pitch from the Oakland Athletics’ Lew Krause broke a bone in Kaline’s right arm on May 25, sidelining him for five weeks.

Age and an accumulation of past physical activity took a toll on Kaline as he entered the final stage of his playing career. This progressive development had been observed by writer Joe Falls as early as 1967 when he wrote that the Detroit star “will play when he is tired, but the inevitable happens. It affects his play. The plain fact is that Kaline is not a very strong player and he gets tired.”64

Occasionally taking days off likely prevented serious injuries in the twilight years of Kaline’s career, but nagging injuries continued to occur. A pulled muscle in his left leg hindered his performance in 1972, and a rib problem and other ailments kept him out of action for all but 91 games in 1973.

The physical pain in which Mickey Mantle played is frequently mentioned in sports literature, and the admirable wartime service of men such as Ted Williams and Bob Feller obviously affected their baseball records significantly. In the same vein, it should be noted that Kaline missed more than 500 games during his career — more than three full seasons — and that most of those absences occurred for physical reasons.65

UNSYMPATHETIC FANS AND WRITERS

The high expectations linked to Kaline’s potential and the effects of his occasional injuries combined to produce an undesirable and perhaps unavoidable byproduct: criticism of performance. The first indication of this phenomenon became apparent as early as 1956 when Kaline’s statistics declined from “extraordinary” in 1955 to “well above average” in the following year. In the words of an article that appeared in Sport magazine, “People in Detroit expect him to become nothing less than the Tigers’ greatest outfielder since Ty Cobb.”66

This gap between what fans wanted to happen and the results that Kaline could deliver would be observed at other times during the next decade. Events during the 1964 season — when foot, ankle, and knee injuries forced Kaline to miss 17 games and appear only as a pinch hitter in eight other contests67 — demonstrated how some Tigers fans were unable to accept Kaline’s limitations. As frustration was fueled by their team’s lack of success, boos were directed at an already disappointed player.68

Developments from the 1965 season that preceded Kaline’s aforementioned foot surgery again provided evidence of a disconnect between athletic effort and public expectation. Due to an assortment of nagging injuries as well as persistent pain in his left foot, Kaline’s batting average dropped to .281 — still the highest among Detroit’s players but his lowest mark in five seasons. Some people in and around the Motor City questioned Kaline’s desire, but that group did not include a key executive in the Tigers’ front office. General manager Jim Campbell stood steadfastly on the Kaline bandwagon, having proclaimed in 1964 that he had never seen the outfielder give less than everything he had.69

ANNOYING CONTROVERSIES

For a man who remained on playing fields and in the public eye for so many years, Kaline became engaged in few contentious situations. Two instances, however, attracted unwelcome attention from the Detroit press and temporarily affected his image.

The first situation originated as a routine salary negotiation after Kaline had posted a batting average of .314, hit 27 home runs, and driven in 128 runs in 1956. With a difference of only $3,000 existing between Kaline’s requested salary of $30,000 and the Tigers’ offer,70 the bargaining process went awry in December of 1956 when Briggs (working under a new club management group headed by Fred Knorr) responded to a question at an advertising club’s luncheon in downtown Detroit by stating, “Al thinks he’s as good as Mickey Mantle and wants more money than Mantle. I don’t agree with him, and he’s not going to get it. After all, his batting average went down last year, and he didn’t lead the American League in anything. We have offered Kaline a bigger raise than he got last year, and that’s that.”71

The discord was resolved on January 29, 1957, when newly promoted player personnel director McHale invited Kaline to meet while Briggs was in Daytona Beach, Florida. The deal was closed after a short conversation between McHale and Kaline and a routine telephone call to Briggs.72

Kaline reportedly received his desired salary of $30,000 but his popularity in working-class Michigan suffered a temporary setback.73 Furthermore, the Detroit press displayed its critical side. Lee Greene of Sport magazine reported that when Kaline batted .295 in 1957, “‘I-told-you-so’ clippings began to turn up. People said that the kid wasn’t using his great skills to proper advantage. Sympathetic phrases like ‘pressing too much,’ ‘swinging too hard,’ and ‘too anxious’ gave way to quotes such as ‘spoiled by success,’ ‘less than a superstar,’ and ‘the personality of a squeezed lemon.’”74

The second controversy revolved around an investment of money rather than Kaline’s acquisition of it. The seeds of this story were planted in that same winter of 1956–57 when Kaline and hockey legend Gordie Howe of the Detroit Red Wings accepted opportunities to join businessman Frank Carlin in an automobile parts design business called the Michigan Automotive Products Corporation — also known as Mapco. Kaline was officially the firm’s vice president, but his primary role was to perform public relations functions. When the enterprise quickly proved to be successful, the trio of business associates formed a separate entity (the Howe-Kaline-Carlin Corporation) for the purpose of serving as a manufacturers’ representative.75

This business arrangement was working fine until Carlin persuaded Kaline and Howe to invest in racehorses as a legal means of reducing their tax liability relating to profits generated from the automotive endeavor. A separate business venture (HKC Stables) was thus formed in the winter of 1959–60 to maintain horses that would race at a track in Toledo, Ohio.76

Accounts of Kaline’s involvement in a sport linked closely to gambling were revealed in May of 1960, and the news was not received favorably by the baseball establishment or baseball fans. Kaline’s initial comments were unapologetic: “Sure, I’m part owner of a string of horses. What’s all the excitement about? I happen to like racing. I like horses. I go out to tracks quite a bit when we aren’t playing ball because it relaxes me. For that matter, so do club owners, managers, coaches, everybody. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”77

Within a short time, however, Kaline reconsidered his stance in the matter and sold his interest in HKC Stables to Carlin.78 (Kaline’s name had not appeared on HKC Stables’ application to Michigan’s Racing Commission, nor had he contributed financially.)79 He offered a qualified apology for his brief entry into the world of horse racing, saying that he was “sorry I got everybody so shook up, but I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. This was only an investment. But I think it is best for everybody that I drop out of the racing thing. After all, my life is baseball, and I don’t want to embarrass anybody connected with the game.”80

Headlines relating to the deal disappeared from the newspapers and the issue was formally resolved, but Kaline continued to hear from patrons in the bleachers of Briggs Stadium. He would later recall that “they even remembered the names of those horses until the end of the 1960 season!”81

MOVING RELUCTANTLY TO CENTER FIELD

Kaline patrolled right field for the Tigers almost exclusively from the time of his emergence as a big league star until a pitch by Bill Fischer of the Washington Senators struck and bruised the right arm of regular center fielder Harvey Kuenn on April 30, 1959. With Kuenn temporarily out of action, a decision was made to move Kaline to the middle of the outfield. Kaline performed so well in his new position that he (rather than Mickey Mantle) was selected in a poll of players, managers, and coaches as the starting center fielder in the first of two All-Star games played in 1959. When Kuenn (who had been installed in right field upon his return to the lineup) was traded to Cleveland in April 1960 for right fielder Rocky Colavito, Kaline remained in center for another season.

While Kaline had the talent to excel in center field and never rebelled against doing so, he made it clear on several occasions that he preferred right field. One statement, published in May 1967, succinctly expressed his feelings: “To me center field is a lot of work … right field is like driving a car. I guess it’s because I’ve been doing it so long … I don’t know whether it’s the mental pressures of it, the fact that I have to do some work for the guys alongside me. … I just don’t enjoy it as much as right field.”82

Three Detroit managers — Bill Norman, Jimmy Dykes, and Joe Gordon — had determined that Kaline’s value to the club would be maximized by keeping him in center field, but that need was eliminated on December 7, 1960, with the acquisition of experienced center fielder Billy Bruton from the Milwaukee Braves. Kaline was elated that new manager Bob Scheffing would assign him to his former spot on the diamond in 1961.

THE FIRING OF BOB SCHEFFING

Kaline was also pleased that Scheffing had been chosen to manage the Tigers in 1961, and his admiration for his new skipper would increase in their time together. As the Detroit team challenged the Yankees for the 1961 American League pennant, Kaline observed that Scheffing was “a master of handling guys on the bench…You get down in the dumps when you’re not playing, and Scheffing treats [everyone] perfectly.”83 Kaline also said that Scheffing was “a real man, liked by his players. He left you alone as long as you did your job. He was a father-type manager.”84

Given these statements of praise, Kaline was naturally displeased and angry when Scheffing was fired (along with his entire coaching staff) on June 17, 1963, after the Tigers had lost seven consecutive games. Kaline directed kind words to Scheffing upon his departure, saying, “I really can’t thank him enough for what he’s done for me.”85

Years later, Kaline continued to speak highly of a man he genuinely liked when he recalled that Scheffing “was the only guy who came to me and told me what he wanted me to do.”86

ROCKY RELATIONSHIP WITH CHARLIE DRESSEN

Kaline’s interactions with Scheffing’s successor Charlie Dressen would not be nearly as cordial. Unlike Scheffing, who had proclaimed that he wouldn’t trade Kaline for Mantle or Mays,87 several of the new skipper’s comments about his best player were more critical. For example, after managing Kaline for more than a full season, Dressen told reporters, “I’ve got to go on what I see. I have to see Kaline play some more.”88

The personalities of the player and manager differed in fundamental ways, but open hostility was avoided by both men. There was, rather, an inconsistency in their relationship. Kaline became upset in 1964 when he was required to participate in early-morning workouts during spring training, but he was appreciative at season’s end when Dressen suggested that more rest — such as sitting out second games of doubleheaders — would be provided in 1965.89

Kaline and several of his teammates experienced difficulty in dealing with a manager whose actions and attitudes could change in a heartbeat. Despite occasional conflicts, however, Kaline credited Dressen for having a solid knowledge of baseball and for his attention to the fine points of the game.90

The relationship was suddenly altered during spring training in 1965 when something much more important than Dressen’s personal nature changed in a heartbeat: the condition of the manager’s heart. After suffering a coronary blockage on March 7, the skipper returned to the dugout on May 31.91 He resumed managerial duties the following year, but a second heart attack occurred on May 16, 1966.92 Bob Swift, who had filled in for Dressen during the latter’s absence in 1965, replaced his former boss — but only until he left the club for health reasons of his own in July 1966. Diagnosed soon thereafter with terminal lung cancer, Swift was succeeded by coach Frank Skaff for the remainder of the 1966 campaign.93

The erratic Dressen-Kaline saga thus concluded with a depressing series of events that placed an emotional toll on Kaline and his teammates.

TRADE RUMORS

Kaline gained an identity soon after his initial signing in 1953 as a significant person within the Detroit community. So, having made his home in the Detroit area and expressed a desire to remain there throughout his career,94 he became concerned whenever credible speculation about trades included his name. At least six trade discussions are known to have taken place:

• In the winter following the 1956 season, Vice President Charles Comiskey of the White Sox offered a total of $250,000 in players and cash for Kaline, but the offer was refused by the Tigers’ front office.95
• George Weiss (the general manager of the Yankees) asked Tigers GM John McHale during the 1958 World Series whether Kaline might be available in a trade. Within a few days, as word of the conversation spread, McHale admitted that the conversation had occurred and teased reporters about whom the Yankees might send to Detroit. He did not, however, state firmly that Kaline was unobtainable by other clubs.96
• Mickey Mantle and Whitey Ford pulled Kaline aside in 1959 and informed him that they had heard that the Yankees had offered Moose Skowron and a couple of minor leaguers to the Tigers in exchange for his services. However, any possibility of the rumored trade’s consummation vanished on July 25 when Skowron’s left wrist was fractured in a collision at first base with the Tigers’ Coot Veal.97
• The Yankees again probed the Tigers’ willingness to trade Kaline in 1964 with Roger Maris in the role of primary trade bait. The Bengals rebuffed this proposal, even after it was reported that a second player might be offered by the Bronx Bombers. Rumors had been flying around the baseball world for months that Dressen and some individuals in Detroit’s front office might entertain a reasonable exchange involving Kaline, but owner John Fetzer made it known that he considered Kaline to be essential to Tigers pennant hopes in the years ahead.98
• During professional baseball’s winter meetings of 1966, the Los Angeles Dodgers offered several top prospects to Tigers general manager Jim Campbell for Kaline. Campbell immediately declined this deal.99
• It was reported during that same off-season that Campbell had offered to send Kaline and pitcher Dave Wickersham to the Minnesota Twins for ace hurler Jim Kaat and outfielder Jimmie Hall.100 Kaline realized that the Tigers needed to improve at several positions, but he resented the fact that conversations about the trade had begun a short time after he had been asked — and had agreed — to move back to center field (from his preferred position in right field) to benefit the Detroit team.101 The Twins rejected Campbell’s proposed swap.

RESENTMENT (OR JEALOUSY) BY TEAMMATES

Although Kaline’s substantial value to the Tigers reduced his chances of being traded, his esteemed status within the organization also produced significant disparities between his annual salaries and those of other Detroit players. Even as they recognized Kaline’s superiority on the field, some teammates resented the differences in pay. A few were privately critical of his reserved nature and even questioned whether his importance to the club was overrated.102

Rocky Colavito did not, however, suppress his feelings about his salary as compared to Kaline’s. He engaged in a shouting match with Campbell during one negotiation and asked the GM, “Who is Kaline, a little tin god?”103 The use of anger did not succeed as a negotiating tactic. Although the Detroit Free Press reported on March 5, 1962, that Colavito would be receiving more money than Kaline during the season ahead, Campbell emphatically denied that account.104

In truth, the Tigers’ management did establish Kaline’s pay as the benchmark against which salaries of other team members were based.105 Former Tigers slugger Willie Horton accepted the fact that “he could never make more [money] than Kaline.”106 Players who attempted to employ an aggressive approach during negotiations with Campbell were frequently asked whether they believed that they were better players than the team’s star.107 Consequently, a few players — in hushed tones — referred to Kaline as “the Salary Cap.”108

Although Kaline’s salaries (like those of all other players from his era) were essentially established by club management, annual comparisons of his pay with that of his teammates would be criticized in 1995 by Marvin Miller, the former executive director of the Major League Baseball Players Association. Miller remarked that the circumstances relating to Kaline’s compensation “did a disservice to other players by limiting their salaries.”109

INTERNAL CONFLICT

Each challenge that has been mentioned in this article resulted from either a situation beyond Kaline’s control, perceptions about personal qualities that were difficult to change, or decisions made (or, in regard to trade rumors, not made) by other people. One more mountain to be climbed apparently existed, however, within Kaline’s own mind and psyche.

Such a theory based on psychological factors may be considered because Kaline exhibited a smaller ego than most superstars while competing aggressively on baseball diamonds for 22 years. He never relished attention or acclaim as many of his peers did, readily admitting his limitations and stating occasionally that some other renowned players were more talented.

Consider this comment to Jack Olsen of Sports Illustrated in 1964:

A similar remark appeared in an authorized biography published in 2010: “My hitting is all a matter of timing. I don’t have the strength that Mantle or Mays have. I’ve got to have my timing down perfect or I’m finished. … To say that I’m like [Cobb] is the most foolish thing that anybody can make a comparison on.”111

While these comments provide insight into Kaline’s view of himself in comparison to other prominent players, the effects of psychological reservations on his self-esteem should not be exaggerated. His response to a question in 1968 is revealing. Asked how he felt about not quite being a superstar (like Mays, Mantle, Aaron, Frank Robinson, or Carl Yastrzemski), Kaline replied, “My makeup isn’t one of a superstar. I think the guys you mentioned are certainly better players than I am and are possibly a little more exciting. And these fellows have all played in World Series, which is a big thing for your stature. But I think I can hold my own with all these guys in everything but home runs and possibly batting average in some cases. There is a very thin line between them and myself.”112

CONCLUSION

When the many obstacles that Al Kaline encountered prior to and during his playing career are placed under a spotlight, assumptions that his road to stardom was a smooth one are shown to be false. Rather, as he suffered the misfortune of being “a child who was thrust full-blown into a world in which nothing he ever did was good enough and excellence brought its own torments,”113 he was forced to overcome many difficulties on his journey from the heart of Baltimore to the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Along the way, his public image blended well with the culture of a basically blue-collar city in the Midwestern region of the United States, and he became a Detroit institution as challenges were met and usually conquered.

Noting the superstar’s many years in the public eye, author Tom Stanton was prompted to write: “Through race riots, through the assassinations of King and the Kennedys, through Vietnam death counts on the morning news, through the crimes of our president, through times of turmoil and uncertainty, Kaline [was] there, every season.”114

That extraordinary longevity — along with impressive character traits, determination, and considerable talent — ultimately enabled Kaline to conquer various forms of adversity and earn lasting praise as one of baseball’s greatest and most admired competitors.

FRANCIS KINLAW has contributed articles and poetry to many SABR publications since becoming a member of SABR in 1983. Having lived near Detroit in his youth, he came of age in a baseball sense as Al Kaline was achieving stardom in the major leagues. In the years that followed, he remained an admirer of Kaline as a man and athlete. He now resides in Greensboro, North Carolina, and writes extensively about baseball, basketball, and college football.

Notes

1. William M. Anderson, The Detroit Tigers: A Pictorial Celebration of the Greatest Players and Moments in Tigers’ History, Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1999, 174.

2. Nick Waddell, “Al Kaline,” SABR Baseball Biography Project, accessed September 9, 2021. https://sabr.org/bioproj/person/al-kaline.

3. Detroit Free Press staff, Mr. Tiger: The Legend of Al Kaline, Detroit’s Own, Chicago: Triumph Books, 2020, 73–74.

4. Lyall Smith, “Kaline’s a Real Tiger: Teenage Regular Captures Detroit,” Detroit Free Press, condensed in Baseball Digest, October 1954, 49.

5. Jim Hawkins, Al Kaline: The Biography of a Tigers Icon, Chicago: Triumph Books, 2010, 63.

6. “Pacemaker of the American League,” Who’s Who in the Big Leagues, ed. by Hy Goldberg, New York: Dell Publishing Company, 1956, 38.

7. George Cantor, The Tigers of ‘68: Baseball’s Last Real Champions, Dallas: Taylor Publishing Company, 1997, 160.

8. Murray Olderman, “Al Kaline,” Sports All-Stars Baseball 1958, June 1958, 38.

9. Hawkins, 63.

10. Glenn Liebman, “Here’s What Hall of Famers Say About Each Other,” Baseball Digest, June 1992, 64.

11. Danny Peary, Ed., We Played the Game: 65 Players Remember Baseball’s Greatest Era, 1947–1964, New York: Hyperion Books, 1994, 312.

12. Peary, 415.

13. Detroit Free Press staff, Ernie: Our Voice of Summer, Chicago: Triumph Books, 2010, 79.

14. Bill Guilfoile, Ed., National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum Yearbook 1981, 72; also Bill Guilfoile, Ed., National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum Yearbook 1983, 18.

15. Daniel Okrent and Steve Wulf, Baseball Anecdotes, New York: Oxford University Press, 1989, 244.

16. Joe Falls, “Al Kaline Matures Again,” Sport, October 1965, 29, 81.

17. Joe Falls, “Baseball Never Came Easy for Al Kaline,” The Sporting News, August 16, 1980, 17.

18. Art Hill, I Don’t Care If I Never Come Back: A Baseball Fan and His Game, New York: Simon & Schuster, 1980; referenced by Joe Falls, The Detroit Tigers: An Illustrated History, New York: Prentice Hall Press, 1989, 108.

19. Tom Stanton, The Final Season: Fathers, Sons, and One Last Season in a Classic American Ballpark, New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2001, 119.

20. Jay Jaffe, “Remembering Al Kaline, Mr. Tiger (1934–2020),” FanGraphs, accessed April 11, 2020. https://blogs.fangraphs.com/remembering-alkaline-mr-tiger-1934-2020.

21. Jack Olsen, “The Torments of Excellence,” Sports Illustrated, May 11, 1964, 35.

22. Olsen.

23. Waddell.

24. Hal Middlesworth, “Kaline: Bat King at 20,” Baseball Digest, January-February 1956, 49.

25. Olsen, 36.

26. Middlesworth, 40.

27. Middlesworth.

28. Olsen, 36.

29. Waddell.

30. Hawkins, 31.

31. Sam Zygner, “Phillies Bonus Babies, 1953–57,” The National Pastime: From Swampoodle to South Philly, Philadelphia: Society of American Baseball Research, 2013, 92.

32. Editors of Sport Magazine, “Al Kaline: Nobody Calls Him a Morning Glory Now,” Baseball’s Best Hitters, 1957, 52.

33. Tommy Devine, “Kaline Can Be King in Detroit,” Sport, August 1955, 60.

34. Devine, 35.

35. Devine.

36. Watson Spoelstra, “Keen Play of Kuenn Tigers’ Top ‘53 Tale,” The Sporting News, September 16, 1953, 8.

37. Lee Greene, “They Don’t Knock Kaline Any More,” Sport, May 1960, 59.

38. David Laurila, “A Conversation with Hall of Famer Al Kaline, 1934–2020,” FanGraphs.com, accessed April 11, 2020. https://blogs.fangraphs.com/a-conversation-with-hall-of-famer-alkaline-1934-2020.

39. Watson Spoelstra, “Kid Kaline Winning His Stripes as Tiger Regular on Clouting,” The Sporting News, March 31, 1954, 11.

40. Devine, 62.

41. Lyall Smith, “Kaline’s a Big Man Now,” Baseball Digest, May 1955, 85.

42. C.C. Johnson Spink, “The Low-Down on Majors’ Big Shots,” The Sporting News, January 6, 1954, 1.

43. Olsen, 41.

44. Joe Falls, “Al Kaline Matures Again,” Sport, October 1965, 29.

45. Editors of Sport Magazine, “Al Kaline: He Has Everything to be a Hero,” Who’s Best in Sports: 1959, 39.

46. Cantor, 160.

47. Jim Sargent, The Tigers and Yankees in ‘61, Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company, 2016, 1.

48. Falls, “Al Kaline Matures Again,” 81.

49. Falls, 29, 81.

50. Greene, 57.

51. Olsen, 36.

52. Greene.

53. Middlesworth, 39.

54. Greene, 57.

55. Greene.

56. “Al Kaline: He Has Everything to be a Hero,” 39.

57. “Al Kaline: The Fiercest Tiger Since Cobb,” Dell Sports: Baseball Stars, 1956, Vol. 1, #7, 4.

58. Waddell.

59. Cantor, 94.

60. Bill James, The Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract, New York: Villard Books, 1986, 618.

61. Hawkins, 131.

62. Jerry Green, “Al Kaline Sounds Off On His 15 Years of Pain and Joy,” Sport, May 1968, 87.

63. Patrick Harrigan, The Detroit Tigers: Club and Community, 1945–1995, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997, 117.

64. Joe Falls, “Victim of Versatility,” Baseball Digest, May 1967, 56.

65. Waddell.

66. Irv Goodman, “How the Tigers Are Building a Winner,” Sport. July 1957, 71.

67. “Hobbled Tiger,” Dell Sports, Vol. 1, #44, May 1965, 51.

68. “Hobbled Tiger,” 51.

69. Olsen, 42.

70. Greene, 60. See also Watson Spoelstra, “Tiger Prexy Turns on Extinguisher in Kaline Pay Flareup,” The Sporting News, January 16, 1957, 11.

71. Hawkins, 85.

72. “Kaline Signs $30,000 Pact with Spike Away in Florida,” The Sporting News, February 6, 1957, 6.

73. The Sporting News dated February 6, 1957 stated that Kaline’s salary would be $30,000 but, according to SABR member Michael Haupert’s research of contracts of Hall of Fame members, the amount of Kaline’s contract for the 1957 season was $29,000 rather than $30,000. https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/k/kalinal01.shtml. See also Jaffe, “Remembering Al Kaline, Mr. Tiger (1934–2020).”

74. Greene, 58.

75. Hawkins, 84.

76. Hawkins, 111.

77. Hawkins.

78. Hawkins, 112.

79. Walter Spoelstra, “Bye-Bye to Bangtails: Kaline ‘Retires’ as Race-Track Tycoon,” The Sporting News, June 1, 1960, 17.

80. Hawkins.

81. Joe Falls, “Meet the New Kaline,” Baseball Digest, April 1961, 35.

82. Falls, “Victim of Versatility,” 55.

83. Sargent, 93.

84. Hawkins, 104.

85. Hawkins, 123.

86. Hawkins.

87. Watson Spoelstra, “Dressen-Kaline Peace Pact Big Plus for Tigers,” The Sporting News, December 12, 1964, 12.

88. Watson Spoelstra, “‘No Deal,’ Tigers Reply to All Offers for Kaline,” The Sporting News, October 3, 1964, 17.

89. Watson Spoelstra, “Kaline Accepts $5,000 Slash; Freehan Signs,” The Sporting News, January 16, 1965, 10.

90. Hawkins, 126.

91. Watson Spoelstra, “Sick Dressen Pulls Fast One; Swift in Tiger Driver’s Seat,” The Sporting News, March 20, 1965, 8; “Doctor Gives Green Light; Dressen Rejoining Tigers,” The Sporting News, May 22, 1965, 13; Fred T. Smith, Tiger Facts, Lathrup Village, MI: Fred T. Smith, Russ Entwistle, and John Duffy, 1986, 186.

92. Watson Spoelstra, “Stricken Dressen Keeps Close Tabs on Bengals,” The Sporting News, May 28, 1966, 16.

93. Smith, 190.

94. Joe Falls, “The Al Kaline Mystery,” Sport, February 1964, 82.

95. Edgar Munzel, “Chisox Set Up Tall Goal for Harshman — 20 Victories in ‘57,” The Sporting News, January 16, 1957, 15.

96. Hawkins, 102.

97. Hawkins, 103.

98. “Hobbled Tiger,” 51. See also Watson Spoelstra, “‘No Deal,’ Tigers Reply to All Offers for Kaline,” 17.

99. Cantor, 160.

100. Joe Falls, “Turmoil on the Tigers: Does It Still Exist?,” Sport, June 1967, 92.

101. Falls, “Turmoil on the Tigers.”

102. These players (referred to in writings by George Cantor and Jim Hawkins, both of the Detroit Free Press) were not identified by those authors, nor were the players’ identities revealed in The Sporting News or other major baseball publications in the late 1960s or early 1970s.

103. Cantor, 109.

104. Harrigan, 136.

105. Hawkins, 210.

106. Harrigan, 137.

107. Cantor, 167.

108. Cantor, 159.

109. Harrigan, 137.

110. Olsen, 36, 38.

111. Hawkins, 70.

112. Green, 86.

113. Olsen, 35.

114. Stanton, 121.

On this day, a struggling Brooklyn squad faced the Reds at Cincinnati’s League Park, also called the “Palace of the Fans.” Brooklyn, owned by Charles Ebbets, had finished the previous decade with its second league championship, but since then had steadily been falling in the standings. The Superbas, though, had come to Cincy fresh off a 1–0 victory over Wagner’s Pirates. In contrast, their hosts had lost an incredible eight in a row to the indomitable New York Giants. The Reds were eager to snap their skid.

In the top of the 13th, light-hitting Brooklyn shortstop Charlie Babb had doubled down the right-field line, was sacrificed to third, then scored on a bobbled bunt. With that, Brooklyn had taken a 7–6 lead.2

Leading off the Reds’ half of the inning was lefty-batting Seymour. The veteran hitter’s gray eyes were sharp and he was tall, of medium-build.3 Cy already had stroked two singles and a triple over the first nine innings before working a walk in the 10th.4

The first offering from Brooklyn pitcher Harry McIntire was crushed, as Seymour drove the ball on a line over first base and sprinted around the bases. Speedy outfielder Harry Lumley bolted for the ball at the crack of the bat, hoping to intercept it near the right-field line. He had no chance; the ball was simply moving too fast and he chased it into the far corner in right. Before Lumley could get the ball back to the infield, Seymour had crossed home plate and was on his way to the dugout. In one swing, Seymour had tied the score, 7–7. McIntire, appearing exhausted, yielded three more singles, and the Reds pushed across the second run of the inning to win, 8–7.5

Seymour and Wagner, “The Flying Dutchman,” would battle through the rest of the summer and into October, but with his four hits against Brooklyn that August afternoon, Seymour never trailed in the batting race the rest of the season.

A WILD START

“Cy” Seymour had been on the baseball scene for some time when the 1905 season began. He had played amateur, professional, and semipro baseball before joining the New York Giants as a pitcher in 1896. the Albany, New York, native played first in Plattsburgh, New York, near the Canadian border, then in Springfield, Massachusetts.6 Because of Seymour’s wildness on the mound, some batters feared him as much as a cyclone. “He had speed to burn and probably has as much stuff on the ball as any lefthander in the history of the game with the possible exception of ‘Rube’ Waddell,” wrote Fred Lieb. “But ‘Cy’ never could tell where his fast ball would go,” he added. “If he had luck, it would dart over the corners of the plate as intended.”7 His career in baseball would indeed carve a path befitting his pseudonym.

In 1898, Seymour won 25 games pitching for the Giants and led the National League in both strikeouts (239) and walks (213). In fact, he led the league in walks three straight years: 1897, 1898, and 1899. In his first five years with the Giants, he occasionally played other positions and batted part time, including two years in which he batted over .300.8

In 1901 and 1902, Seymour played for Baltimore in the upstart American League, where he was managed by John McGraw. McGraw converted him from pitcher to outfielder and full-time batsman. When John T. Brush bought the Baltimore team and broke it up, a few players — such as pitcher Joe “Iron Man” McGinnity and catcher Roger Bresnahan — went with McGraw to New York, while Joe Kelley and Seymour jumped to Cincinnati, a team in which Brush held interests. New York viewed Seymour as the “most desirable” player in Baltimore and wanted him, but ultimately, the player split was part of a “peace agreement” among the owners.9 In 1903, Seymour posted top-five numbers in batting average, hits, triples, and home runs.10 the 1905 season would prove to be his best and one of the best ever in the game of baseball.

OPENING DAY 1905

In 1905, 5,855,062 people attended major league baseball games.11 The Deadball Era of the sport was steadily turning baseball into America’s National Pastime. The beginning of the twentieth century, from 1901 until 1920, was a time of great prosperity in the country. America was an established world power. American industry, finance, and ingenuity were all booming, and its railroads had finally connected the nation from coast to coast. People were becoming consumers, buying telephones and phonographs. The age of the automobile had arrived. Americans were flocking to electrified cities and looking for entertainment. The sport of baseball fit the bill, and business magnates and city leaders started to work together to build stadiums to satisfy the growing populace.

Excitement was high in Cincinnati on Opening Day, Friday, April 14, as the Reds welcomed a fearsome rival, the Pittsburgh Pirates, a squad that featured many players who had participated in the first — and, to that point, only — AL-NL World Series in 1903.

“This afternoon at League Park the baseball season is scheduled to burst into bloom,” wrote sportswriter Jack Ryder in The Cincinnati Enquirer. “At the end of the session the hope of every fan in Redland is that Manager [Joe] Kelley’s grand conglomeration of earnest workers will be off in the lead. The Pirates will have a few well-wishers, however, for several car loads of Smoketown enthusiasts are at this moment wending their way hither to lend aid and encouragement to Fred Clarke’s lusty crew.”12

More than 15,000 fans watched the Reds lose, 9–4. The star batters for each team, Wagner and Seymour, were held hitless. In that season-opening series, the Pirates won three of four.13

In the first month of the season, Wagner’s Pirates finished with an 8–4 record, a half-game behind the Giants. The Reds, at a pedestrian 6–6, were fourth of the eight teams in the league. For his part, Seymour put together a six-game hitting streak at the end of April, and his batting average stood at .347 to Wagner’s .346.14 Seymour inching ahead of Wagner thanks to a hitting streak would become a theme in 1905.

PLAYING AGAINST THE GREATS

Cincinnati opened the month of May by winning two of four at home with the Cubs, including eking out a victory over Mordecai “Three-Fingered” Brown, who was on the verge of establishing a reputation as one of baseball’s best pitchers. Seymour went 0-for-3 with a walk.15

After that, the Reds traveled to Pittsburgh, hoping to fare better on the road against their rival. “The Reds found the Pirates just as hard to beat on their own grounds as they were in the opening series of the season on the old home field and lost the first game here today before a large crowd, which gathered at Exposition Park to welcome Clarke’s crew home from their Eastern trip,” wrote Ryder of the Enquirer.16 It was Seymour’s poor defense in the fourth inning that gave the Pirates the run they needed to win. He had thrown errantly to the wrong base and in the process hit a runner with the ball, which allowed a third run to score in the inning. Although the former pitcher had a terrific arm, Seymour had a reputation as an erratic fielder. In 1903, the converted center fielder had accumulated an incredible 36 errors, leading all outfielders. In 1905, he finished second-worst with 21.17

Seymour tried to atone for his mistake at the plate. He had a hot bat, hitting two singles and a double. He also stole third and scored. Although he saved his team from a shutout, the Reds came up short, losing, 4–2. Wagner had a single and a run scored because of another Reds error. In the series, Pittsburgh once again bested Cincinnati, three games to one.18

Seymour’s hitting remained consistent, with a 10-game hitting streak from May 11 to May 24. On May 23, the Reds visited the Polo Grounds to face the juggernaut New York Giants and the game’s most dominant pitcher, Christy Mathewson. The Giants sat at an astounding 24–6, while the Reds had dropped below the .500 mark at 13–16. Mathewson, six-foot-one and broad-shouldered, had won 30 games in each of the previous two seasons, and 1905 would be one of his finest. “Big Six” would finish the year 31–9 with a 1.28 ERA, leading the Giants to a 105-win season and a world championship.19

In 1912, still in the midst of his great career, Mathewson wrote and published Pitching in a Pinch, an autobiographical insider’s look at the game. He devoted key sections in Chapter 1, “The Most Dangerous Batters I Faced,” to Seymour, including the following:

On that Tuesday afternoon, Seymour could muster only a single to keep his second significant hitting streak of the season alive one more day. Matty held the Reds scoreless and struck out eight, yielding three harmless singles.21

To close out May, the Reds split a two-game series with the Pirates, then beat Chicago three games to one. In Pittsburgh, the first game of the series, on Saturday, May 27, was a “swatfest” for the home team, with Wagner getting three of the Pirates’ 12 hits. Had he not slipped running the bases, his deep drive to left in the fifth inning would have been a home run instead of a triple. His single to center in the seventh was fumbled by Seymour, a miscue that allowed another run to score and closed out an 8–3 Pirates victory. At the plate, Seymour singled and scored a run.22

The second game was a different story, as the rivals traveled to Cincy for the Sunday rematch. The Reds routed the Bucs, 12–3, and Seymour singled and scored twice as part of the romp. Wagner singled twice before being ejected in the seventh inning for arguing with an umpire. With Seymour on first, Reds right fielder Jimmy Sebring grounded to Pirates second baseman Claude Ritchey, who flipped the ball to Wagner. The shortstop, however, was out of position, a few feet off the bag, when he received the toss and then threw too high to first. Both runners were ruled safe. The hulky “Dutchman” vehemently protested and had his finger in umpire Bob Emslie’s face when he got tossed.23

On the last day of May, the Reds capped their home series against Chicago by taking both games of the midweek doubleheader. Costly errors in both games by normally reliable Cubs middle infielders shortstop Joe Tinker and second baseman Johnny Evers contributed to their team’s misery. Each made two miscues in the first game, a batters’ battle that yielded 21 hits between the two clubs. The Reds had built a comfortable 5–0 lead by the fifth and looked to make it a runaway, but the scrappy Cubs clawed their way back. By the seventh, the score was tied, 8–8. The Cubs added two more runs in the eighth after “Three-Fingered” Brown was brought in to close out the contest. He held the Reds scoreless in the eighth and started the ninth by striking out Seymour, who earlier had hit his fourth triple of the year and scored. Brown then walked the next two batters before getting the second out. After Brown walked player-manager Kelley to load the bases, Tinker muffed an easy grounder, allowing the Reds to score two and tie the game. Brown then yielded a hit, and the game was over, with the Reds winning, 11–10.24

Game two of the doubleheader was tame by comparison. In the bottom of the first, Reds second baseman Miller Huggins walked, took second on teammate Tommy Corcoran’s safe bunt, then advanced to third on a sacrifice by Seymour. A wild pitch allowed Huggins to score and give the Reds the lead. The Reds scored in the fifth when Evers muffed a grounder. With the bases loaded for the Cubs in the eighth, Evers tied the game by singling home teammates Frank Chance and Billy Maloney. The Reds scored a run in the ninth to win the game, 3–2.25

Seymour closed out May batting .327, with Wagner at .321. The Reds maintained their middling status at 19–19, followed by the Cubs at 20–21. The Giants stood as tall as their star pitcher; at 30–9 they had surged well ahead of the second-place Pirates, who stood at 23–17.26

AN 18-GAME HITTING STREAK

In June, Seymour and Wagner continued their torrid hitting. Wagner hit safely in 23 of his 25 games, and Seymour hit safely in 22 of 25. Between June 7 and June 25, Seymour had his third significant hitting streak of the season: 18 straight games.27 In the five-game series that opened that month against the St. Louis Cardinals, Seymour collected seven hits, including a day when he hit a home run and had five runs batted in.28

Seymour’s June streak coincided with a planned 16-game homestand against Eastern opponents: Brooklyn, Philadelphia, Boston, and New York. In game two of the homestand, the Reds made easy work of their foes, beating Brooklyn, 11–2. In the first inning, Seymour blooped a single to center, scoring Huggins and first baseman Shad Barry. Seymour’s two RBIs and his own run scored later in the inning would’ve been all the home team needed, but the center fielder added a second hit and second run.29 In game three, the Reds completed a sweep of Brooklyn, with Seymour adding two more hits, marking three straight multihit games.30

The Reds, who welcomed the surging Philadelphia Phillies next, lost the opener of the four-game series but then won three straight. In the second game, Seymour went 4-for-4, adding another double and triple. For the series, he was 8-for-13, a torrid .615 batting average. During his June hitting streak, Seymour added five triples, bringing his season total to nine. By contrast, for the Phillies, future batting champ Sherry Magee, a 20-year-old left fielder in his second season, went a paltry 1-for-17 during the series.31

The Beaneaters, Boston’s National League team, faced the red-hot Reds next and lost all four games. In game one, the teams garnered 11 hits each during the contest, which the Reds won in 10 innings.

The best play of the series, a defensive gem by Seymour, happened in the sixth inning of the third game. After Boston’s Jim Delehanty tripled, Rip Cannell lined a shot to center, which Seymour, in perfect position, easily grabbed. Delehanty tagged and raced home. Jack Ryder of the Enquirer captured the moment: “Almost as soon as the ball had touched his hands it was on its way to the plate as fast as the bat had sent it out. Cy had gauged the distance exactly right, and had applied speed to burn. The ball sailed into Schlei’s waiting mitt on the first bound, fully three steps ahead of the hustling Delehanty. The Admiral took no chances, but stood square in the path, and made the runner dodge, tagging him as he went by.”32

Despite his penchant for committing errors, Seymour had a reputation for throwing out runners at the plate on fly balls. The double play occurred with Boston leading, 2–1, giving the Reds the jolt they needed to pull out the victory. With the Reds up, 4–2, Seymour opened the eighth with a triple, then scored on a single to close out the day’s scoring. The Reds beat Boston pitcher Vic Willis, a future Hall of Famer who had won 20 games four times in his career in Boston and would move on to Pittsburgh and win 20 games in four more seasons. In the fourth and final game against Boston, Seymour added his second home run of the season on a long drive to the right-field corner in the seventh inning.33

The Reds’ hot streak propelled them to a 31–24 record in the National League, a half-game behind Pittsburgh. The Giants, still in first with a seven-game cushion, were the next Eastern team to come to Cincinnati. The series was a chance for the Reds to make a move in the pennant chase, though the Giants’ top-flight pitchers posed a serious threat to Seymour’s June hitting streak.

In game one, the Reds continued their roll, beating up four Giants pitchers for 17 runs. Pitching in relief, future Hall of Famer McGinnity gave up four runs in one-third of an inning in the fourth before being yanked by McGraw. For his part, Seymour scored three runs and drove in three while collecting three hits. It was the Reds’ eighth straight win.34 In game two, Giants pitcher Red Ames finally slowed down the Reds’ offense in an 8–3 victory. The 22-year-old earned the win to raise his record to 11–2 en route to one of the best W-L records of his career. Seymour picked up a single to keep his hitting streak alive and was having a great day defensively, nabbing five flies. But in the ninth, he rushed a ball hit by Giants catcher Frank Bowerman, and it went through his legs all the way to the fence, turning a single into four bases and a run.35

In game three, the Giants scored four first-inning runs, and the Reds simply could never catch up. On the day, Seymour bagged two hits, including a long drive to center that he turned into a triple, and drove in two of the Reds’ three runs. Seymour had failed to run out a grounder to the pitcher in the first, which resulted in a double play. In the field, Seymour snagged a fly ball in the fifth and immediately gunned down Giants third baseman Art Devlin, who couldn’t get back to first in time. With the 6–3 victory, Mathewson boosted his record to 11–3, while the loss started a tumble for the Reds in the standings.36 In the final game of the series, McGinnity got his revenge on the Reds, holding down Cincinnati in a 2–1 victory. Seymour had two singles, including a hit to lead off the ninth, but his teammates couldn’t advance him. Still, he had collected at least one hit in 15 straight games.37

The Reds then traveled to Pittsburgh and easily beat the Pirates, 8–2, in a lively Saturday afternoon contest. Wagner had two hits in the game, and Seymour had a single to continue his hit streak, but when he threw his glove in the seventh to object to a Pirates’ runner being called safe at second base, he was ejected.38

In Chicago, the Reds dropped three of four games to close out the month. In the first game, about 12,000 Sunday fans watched the Cubs score 18 runs and tally 34 total bases in an absolute drubbing of the Reds. The only notable hits for Cincinnati were a triple by Huggins and a double by Seymour.39 The Cubs beat the Reds badly again in the second game, 9–1. Seymour slammed a double, his 20th of the year, to right field to maintain his June hit streak.40 In the third contest, Reds rookie Orval Overall hurled a 6–0 shutout. Seymour walked once but failed to produce a hit in three official at bats, ending his hitting streak at 18 games. He then went 0-for-5 the following day as the Reds lost again, 13–5.41

In the final four games of the month, Seymour went 3-for-15 (.200), and his average stood at .351. Because of a doubleheader in St. Louis, Wagner had played an extra game over that same stretch, and he closed the month on a tear, batting 15-for-26 (.577). The Dutchman raised his average 20 points to end June at .377. Wagner found himself in a familiar position: leading the league.42 Could Seymour hit well enough the rest of the year to overtake the perpetual champ? Sporting pages around the country started to report that there was a battle brewing for the batting crown.43

A 21-GAME HITTING STREAK

Almost as if perfectly scripted, July started with a four-game series between Cincinnati and Pittsburgh. It had to be fate that after two games without a hit, Seymour would start his fourth noteworthy hitting streak of the 1905 season in Pittsburgh. Beginning on July 2 and ending on July 29, this streak would last 21 games.44

The series between Cincinnati and Pittsburgh was ultimately led by players who were not named Cy Seymour nor Honus Wagner. Seymour batted 5-for-15 (.333) and collected two more doubles. Wagner was 3-for-14 (.214) and added two more stolen bases, bringing his total to 27. Pittsburgh won three of the four games.45 In the National League, the Giants continued to set the pace and had the best record in baseball at 50–20. The Pirates trailed by seven games and stood at 43–27. The Reds were starting to fall completely out of the race; they were 35–33, 14 games back and struggling to stay above .500.

Seymour really picked up his pace when the club hosted St. Louis at home before traveling to Boston and then Philly. He batted .429 over the next 13 games, in which the Reds went 7–6 to remain just above .500. Seymour’s latest hitting streak was at 17 games, seven of which were multihit affairs. He added four more doubles and another triple.46

The Reds closed out July with an eight-game series against the Giants, the first four games to be played at the Polo Grounds in New York and then four in Ohio. Manager McGraw rolled out his pitchers in the following order for the home games: McGinnity, Mathewson, Ames, and Hooks Wiltse.

McGinnity held firm in game one, and the Giants picked up the win, 4–3. Seymour continued his streak, NARDACCI: Besting Honus Wagner reaching base twice on singles in the sixth and ninth innings. With runners on base earlier in the second inning, “Iron Man” had issued an intentional pass to Seymour rather than allowing him to hit because, as the Enquirer’s Ryder reported, “McGinnity saw the fire in Seymour’s eye and let him walk.”47 In game two, Mathewson gave up nine hits but held the Reds to two runs while his team scored seven. Seymour had a triple off Matty and also smacked a single in four at bats. In game three, the Giants squeaked out a win for Ames, 6–5, and “Iron Man” lived up to his nickname when he came in for two innings to close out the victory. Seymour had a single and three RBIs. The Reds almost erased the deficit in the eighth, but fell short. In the last game at the Polo Grounds, the Giants’ bats came alive and they won easily, 9–3, sweeping the series. Seymour went 1-for-5 with a single in the first to extend his hitting streak to 21 games. During his July streak, Seymour batted .402. The Reds, however, went 8–13 during the span.49

In the opener of the series at League Park, Mathewson shut out the Reds, and Seymour went 0-for-4 with two strikeouts against him to end his last notable hitting streak that year.

Unfortunately for the Reds, the remaining three home games against the Giants had the same result as at the Polo Grounds — Cincy lost them all. New York had completed an incredible eight-game sweep of the Reds. Cincinnati finished the month having lost more ground in the National League, going 12–18.50

During Seymour’s 21-game hitting streak, Wagner fell off his torrid pace, batting .299. The Pirates, though, went 17–7 between July 2 and July 27. By the last day of July, Wagner was leading all National League batters with a .356 average. But Seymour had successfully battled back and sat right behind him at .355.51

OVERTAKING WAGNER

Seymour started August on a tear. He collected 13 hits in the first five games, including a triple and the homer in the 13th inning in the August 2 game against Brooklyn.52 In fact, through the first three games against Brooklyn, he had what would have been a run of eight straight at-bats with a hit if only one had not been ruled an error.53 The Reds picked up four wins in the five-game series and then, with Philadelphia in town, swept the Phillies in a four-game set.

The opening game against Philly was a slugfest; the Reds scored five runs in the first inning. Huggins started things out by slamming a hard shot to third. When the third baseman threw wildly, Huggins ended up on third. A triple by Barry brought in Huggins, and a single by Kelley scored Barry. Seymour then laid down a perfect bunt toward third and beat the throw to first. Shortstop Tommy Corcoran loaded the bases by reaching on an error, and two runners scored before the final out of the inning. In the sixth, Seymour singled with the bases loaded, scoring two more en route to a 13–7 victory.54

Seymour’s hot August start raised his batting average 19 points, and he overtook Wagner. Wagner would fight his way back through the remainder of the season, but Seymour would never lose the batting lead after his torrid first week of the month.55

Cincinnati played Boston for the next seven games, with four in Boston and three at home, then went back to Philadelphia for three more games. Over that stretch, the Reds went 6–4, while Seymour’s hitting cooled, and he collected only 11 hits in 38 at bats (a .289 average) and merely one RBI. The Reds then headed to the Polo Grounds for a Thursday doubleheader and were blanked by Mathewson in the first game, losing 8–0 and only getting two hits off him. Seymour was 0-for-4 as Mathewson improved his record to 22–7. The second game ended in a 6-6 tie, with the game being called after the ninth because of darkness.57 In that game, Seymour had two hits and a sacrifice. The Giants won the third game with McGinnity shutting out the Reds, 2–0. Seymour went 0-for-3.58

After that, Cincinnati traveled to Brooklyn and split a two-game series to end the month. After losing the opening contest, the Reds, powered by Seymour, won the second. In the latter game, Seymour hit a shot that cleared the right-field wall for his fourth home run of the season. And he ended the game with a sensational double play, throwing out a Brooklyn runner on his way to third after catching the second out of the ninth.59

As August faded, Seymour still maintained his lead in the race for the batting crown with a .361 average. Wagner was right behind at .357. At month’s end, the Reds were 22½ games back and out of the pennant hunt. At 6½ games back, the Pirates were still chasing the dominant Giants.60

THE SEPTEMBER BATTLE

In September, Seymour kept hitting the ball consistently and playing like he had throughout August. He batted .387 and picked up 43 more hits, including five doubles, three home runs, and seven triples. He also stole nine bases. As a team, the Reds didn’t keep up their star player’s pace. They started the month miserably, losing two in Chicago to the Cubs, and then four out of five to St. Louis. Seymour batted .333 during the stretch and added a triple and home run in St. Louis. The Reds then traveled to Pittsburgh for a much-anticipated three-game series.61

“Premier Batters in the League/Seymour and Wagner Hook Up In Pittsburgh/Each Secured a Single, a Double and a Triple,” proclaimed the three-deck September 8 headline on The Cincinnati Enquirer’s sports page.62 The Thursday series opener the day before at Pittsburgh’s Exposition Park did not disappoint. It was a “slugging contest” with the teams combining for 30 base hits, 43 total bases and 18 runs. The Enquirer zeroed in on the showcase matchup of the day: “A feature of the game was the batting duel between the two premier sluggers of the league, Cy Seymour and Hans Wagner. The result was a tie. Both men came to bat five times and each secured three hits — a single, a double and a triple. Each also secured two runs, so neither had any advantage on the day’s work. Wagner also fielded beautifully, but Seymour did not have a chance to show what he could do in that time.”63

Pittsburgh hit and scored at will and had a 10–3 lead heading to the eighth. Seymour singled and scored in the eighth, and in the ninth, he tripled to right with the bases loaded to drive in three. It wasn’t enough, and the contest ended with the Pirates winning, 11–7. The victory moved the Pirates to within five games of the Giants.

In game two, though the Pirates rapped out 15 hits, they left plenty of runners on base, scoring only three times. The Reds scored at a better rate, crossing the plate eight times on 13 hits. Wagner walked three times and singled. Seymour got the better of the Dutchman, getting four hits, including two triples. His triple in the third drove home two runs. In the fifth, Huggins and Seymour executed a double steal that brought Huggins home. The report by the Enquirer noted: “The battle between the two main sluggers, Seymour and Wagner, was all the way of the Red biffer this afternoon. Cy was in fine trim, and his eye was never off the ball.”64

The rubber match was all Pittsburgh, and this time the Pirates produced runs at a high rate, scoring 12 times on 19 hits. The Reds scored five on eight hits. Wagner finished with two singles, two runs scored, and one RBI. Seymour garnered three hits, including a double, and scored a run. The next day’s Pittsburgh Gazette covered the status of the batting race between Seymour and Wagner and also made a point to say that the Pirates were playing better team ball and leading the league in hitting: “The race between Seymour and Wagner is one that any person who takes an interest in the game will watch from now to the finals of the season. The Reds’ clever hitter is now 8 points ahead of the Pirates’ slugger, while last week only 5 points separated them.”65

On the Reds’ next homestand, they beat the Cubs two out of three games before hosting the Pirates in a two-game Friday-Saturday series. The first game vs. Pittsburgh was tight, with both teams getting 11 hits. Seymour did his part for his team, going 2-for-4, scoring twice and stealing a base. Wagner edged him out on the day, going 2-for-4 as well, but contributing a triple. After his single in the first drove in Tommy Leach with the first run, Wagner easily stole second and third, then scored on a drive by Del Howard. the Bucs ultimately bested the Reds, 8–7.66 In game two, Reds spitball ace Bob Ewing baffled the Pirates, shutting them out and holding them to six hits. Wagner had a single. Seymour’s single in the first drove home Huggins, and although the Reds scored five more times, Cy’s RBI was all that was needed to split the series. The Enquirer continued to follow the batting race closely, its headline proclaiming “Wagner and Seymour are Now Nip and Tuck,” and reporting that “the National League race is rapidly drawing to a finish and a battle royal is ‘on’ for the honor of leading batsman. Wagner and Seymour are having a hot struggle.”67

After losing two to the Cubs in Chicago, the Reds then won seven straight games against lowly Brooklyn and Boston. In the first game of a Sunday doubleheader against Brooklyn at home, Seymour hit home runs in his first two at bats. The slugger drove both balls deep to right and, on both occasions, teammate Barry was on base and scored ahead of him.68 In the second game, Seymour beat out a bunt in the third.69 Seymour closed out September by collecting a few more hits against Philadelphia while his team dropped two of three.70

September ended with Seymour leading the National League batting race with a .367 average to Wagner’s .361. The former had collected 202 hits to that point to Wagner’s 188.71 With the season not yet over, the New York Giants had 102 wins and the Pirates 94. The Reds, at 74–72, were just above .500.

THE NATIONAL SPOTLIGHT

With the pennant race decided, National League partisans turned their attention to the batting race between Seymour and Wagner that had percolated all season. Cincinnati was slated to end the season on October 8, with all eight of its final games at home — first against the pennant-clinching New York Giants, then vs. the Philadelphia Phillies, and finally, like from out of a storybook, with a closing-day doubleheader against the Pirates and Wagner. Over eight days in October, the Reds played magnificently: They won five, lost two, and tied one. And Seymour helped pace his team’s strong close.72

Fifteen thousand fans showed up for the Reds’ Sunday doubleheader with the Giants on October 1, and they were treated to two fine games. In the first game, McGinnity and Ewing both pitched all 10 innings, with the Giants victorious, 5–4. In the first inning, Seymour put the Reds ahead with a sharp hit to right-center that scored one. The Giants broke a 4–4 tie in the top of the tenth. When it was the Reds’ turn in the bottom half, McGraw made a defensive switch in the outfield when he noticed a lot of Cincinnati’s hits going to center. He directed speedy outfielder Sam Mertes to move from left field to center, with center fielder Mike Donlin moving to left. (Donlin would finish third in the 1905 batting race.) The first batter in the inning for the Reds, Shad Barry, singled past the second baseman. That brought up Cy, seeking his fourth hit of the day. As the Enquirer’s Ryder recounted, “Seymour, with three good marks already on his slate, raized [sic] a long fly ball to deep center that would undoubtedly have escaped Donlin, but Mertes just did get under it.” McGraw’s defensive switch and Mertes’ great catch robbed Seymour and saved the first game for the Giants.73 In the second game, the Reds scored three runs in the first, including one on Seymour’s triple to deep center field, and one more in the fourth. The umpire called the game in the fifth inning because of darkness with the Reds up, 4–3.74

Two days later, the same teams played another doubleheader. The Reds won the first game, 4–2, and Seymour hit a long triple in the eighth, his 21st and final three-bagger of the season.75 In the second game, Seymour got the Reds off to a hot start by smashing a line drive over center fielder Sammy Strang’s head for a home run, which also scored Barry. The Giants scored three in the fourth to go ahead, 3–2. The Reds came right back to tie the score in the bottom of the inning on a walk to Barry and singles by Seymour and Corcoran. Seymour led off the sixth with a single and was forced out at second, but the Reds still managed to score a run to go up, 4–3. The Giants tied it when Bill Dahlen scored all the way from first after Seymour let a ball go through him and then, recovering it, juggled it. The game was called after the Reds failed to score in the bottom of the eighth to allow the Giants to catch their train. Notwithstanding that tie, the Reds won two of the three completed games and thus beat the Giants in a series for the first time all season.76

The closing weekend of the 1905 baseball season for the Reds at home included a Saturday doubleheader against St. Louis and then the much-anticipated contest on Sunday against Wagner and the Pirates to decide the year’s batting race. In the Saturday series, Seymour positioned himself well for the finale, going 5-for-8 on the day. He smashed two doubles in the opener, further lifting his average, as the Reds split the series with the Cardinals.77

FINAL MATCHUP

The closing regular-season series, and the contest between Seymour and Wagner, drew 10,000 to the “Palace of the Fans.” The Pittsburgh Gazette described the opening scene:

Ironically, it was Seymour’s defense that generated the greatest moment of the anticipated day, when he initiated a rare triple play in the seventh inning. Seymour caught a long fly off the bat of Pirates right fielder Bob Ganley and fired the ball home to nail Pirates catcher George Gibson trying to score. Reds catcher Schlei made the tag and then zipped the ball to third to nab Pirates pitcher Charlie Case, who was trying to advance from second base. With the Reds ahead, 2–1, the play saved the game. Seymour picked up two singles in the contest; Wagner was 0-for-3. Wagner was hit by a pitch in the eighth when the ball grazed his hand. The Reds added one more run and won, 3–1.79

In the second game, the final of the season for each club, both Seymour and Wagner collected two hits, but Cy was a little better on the day. Seymour’s blooper over first base in the opening inning was lost in the sun by the Pirates infielders, allowing him to reach second. It was his 40th double of the season and would ensure that he led the league in that category. In the third, with two outs and the Reds trailing, 1–0, Huggins singled to center and then tried to steal second. Wagner, covering the bag from short, bobbled the throw from the Pirates catcher to keep the inning alive. Barry walked, and Seymour then smashed a hit to right field that scored Huggins. The Reds added two more runs in the fourth inning and then, with two outs, loaded the bases, bringing up Seymour.

Reds fans erupted. “The stands clamored for a homer and four more runs when the mighty Cy advanced to the plate,” reported The Cincinnati Enquirer.80 The Pirates thought the situation over and decided it was best to simply walk Seymour and force in a run rather than pitch to him. The Cincinnati Enquirer reported: “[Pitcher Ed] Kinsella and [Catcher Heine] Peitz, however, were afraid of the Main Slugger, for he was given a base on balls, forcing [catcher Gabby] Street over.”81 Shortstop Tommy Corcoran then flied out to end the inning. That ended the scoring for the day, and the Reds maintained the 4–1 lead to win. Wagner had two singles on the day, but it was not nearly enough to surpass Seymour.82

The Pittsburgh Gazette noted that the fate of the race favored Seymour: “There was scant chance today for Wagner to displace Seymour for the leadership, but even had there been, Cy would have triumphed, for in the test of the last day he doubled the inside count of the Carnegie Dutchman.”83

UNSEATING WAGNER

In the end, Seymour was the 1905 National League batting champ. He finished the season with a .377 batting average, compared with Wagner’s .363. In his last eight games in October, Seymour batted .567.84

Seymour also led the National league in hits (219), doubles, triples, and RBIs (121). His eight home runs were one shy of the lead, keeping him from winning what would one day be called the Triple Crown.

To beat out Honus Wagner during a decade in which “The Flying Dutchman” reigned as baseball’s greatest player was no simple feat; 1900 through 1910 was the Wagnerian Era. Wagner won seven batting titles, with averages ranging from .381 to .339. In 1905, with his .363 average, Wagner was as dangerous a hitter as ever, though Seymour was just a notch better. That year, 1905, was the only year between 1900 and 1911 that Wagner didn’t lead the league in at least one offensive category.85

PASSING OF A CYCLONE

Seymour’s 1906 season got off to a slow start with the Reds, and McGraw, who had managed him in Baltimore, bought him for the princely sum of $12,000 halfway through the season.86 (McGraw had tried in vain in 1905 to work out a deal to bring Seymour back to New York.) The change of scenery seemed to rejuvenate Seymour, who batted .320 for the Giants in the second half. Of the chance to play in New York again and his time in Cincinnati, Seymour said, “When I found that I was to be sold to the New York club a load seemed lifted off my shoulders. The bare announcement made me feel differently, and when I finally did join the New Yorks I knew that I was in my element again — that it was a change that I needed to bring me to form again.” He added, “I was never disloyal to Cincinnati for a moment — but I simply could not do the work there that was expected of me, so this deal was the best thing that could have happened to me or the Reds.”87

Seymour batted above .300 in eight of his 16 professional seasons and was a lifetime .303 batter.88 For several seasons, he was one of the star players in the game. In 1906, writer Bozeman Bulger of New York’s Evening World published his “All-American” list of the game’s top players. He included Seymour as his center fielder.89

But Seymour’s career came to an unceremonious close for a variety of reasons: a series of injuries, his frequent alcohol abuse, and his mercurial temperament, which led to a mix of on-and off-field incidents and several fallings-out with McGraw and other officials. He was suspended several times for instances labeled “unruly behavior” and drew the ire of team owners, league officials, and even newspaper editors throughout his career. Giants owner Andrew Freedman sent a missive to manager Buck Ewing on May 21, 1900, calling into question Seymour’s “habits” and his “lack of condition.”90 In a January 31, 1906, letter from Cincinnati Post managing editor Ray Long to Reds team President August Hermann, Long complained that Seymour had threatened a photographer.91 McGraw suspended Seymour for all of the Giants’ spring training in 1909 for attacking coach Arlie Latham at the team hotel.92

Despite the abrupt end to his stardom, Seymour stayed around the game he loved until his untimely death. After he left the Giants in 1910, Seymour played minor league ball for two years. He first went back to Baltimore and then in 1912 was recruited to play for Newark by its manager, former rival “Iron Man” McGinnity.93 Seymour briefly attempted a comeback at the age of 40 with the Boston Braves in 1913.94 Later that year he wrote to Reds President Hermann on November 28, 1913, and pitched his services as a manager and called himself a “changed man” from what Hermann had known.95

During World War I, Seymour went to work in the New York shipyards and contracted tuberculosis. In 1918, at the age of 45, he played minor league ball again briefly for 13 games for Newark. He was also known to frequent Yankees and Giants practices at the Polo Grounds, including during the 1919 season.96 Seymour died in his New York City home on September 20, 1919. He was 46 years old. Every major sports paper in the country carried at least a brief notice of his death, including in the places he played: Baltimore, Cincinnati, and New York. The Pittsburgh Gazette Times carried his headshot under the headline “Cy Seymour Passes Away” and listed among his accomplishments the 1905 batting-title victory over Wagner.97

Seymour is interred in a family plot at Albany Rural Cemetery. 

TOM NARDACCI was born in Rensselaer, New York, where he and his friends, unbeknownst to them, played sandlot baseball on the same Hudson Riverfront Park field where Roger Connor of the Troy Trojans hit major league baseball’s first grand slam in 1881. Tom, a lifelong Yankees fan, is a collector of T206 baseball cards and primarily researches and writes about the Deadball Era. Tom earned his master’s degree in strategic communications from Columbia University.

Sources

In addition to the sources cited in the Notes, the author consulted the Baseball-Reference.com and Retrosheet websites for pertinent material and the box scores noted here.

Notes

  1. Sports Reference LLC. Baseball-Reference.com – Major League Statistics and Information. https://www.baseball-reference.com/ (Date accessed December 2020) (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905), (https://www.baseballreference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=wagneho01&t=b&year=1905).

  2. Jack Ryder, “Broke that Long Losing Streak…Cy Seymour Makes a Season’s Record by Pounding Out Five Clean Hits,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, August 3, 1905, 4.

  3. U.S. World War I draft card, James Bentley Seymour, September 12, 1918.

  4. “Broke that Long Losing Streak,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, August 3, 1905, 4.

  5. “Broke that Long Losing Streak,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, August 3, 1905, 4.

  6. Bill Kirwin, “Cy Seymour,” Society for American Baseball Research (SABR) Bio Project.

  7. Frederick Lieb, “Seymour Too Wild to Pitch: But He Could Hit, As Major League Records Show,” Hartford Daily Courant, January 19, 1924, 13.

  8. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/seymocy01.shtml).

  9. “Brooklyn Cannot Claim Joe Kelley,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, July 19, 1902, 3.

10. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/seymocy01.shtml).

11. The Reach Official American League Baseball Guide (Philadelphia: A.J. Reach Company, 1906), 17.

12. Jack Ryder, “Baseball Season Opens Today,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, April 14, 1905, 4

13. Jack Ryder, “Opening Scenes at League Park,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, April 15, 1905, 3.

14. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905), (https://www.baseballreference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=wagneho01&t=b&year=1905).

15. Retrosheet (https://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1905/B05030CIN1905.htm)

16. “Back in His Old Form…Cy Seymour Was the Only One of Kelley’s Men Who Did Good Work With Bat,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, May 6, 1905, 3.

17. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=f&year=1905).

18. Jack Ryder, “Back in His Old Form,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, May 6, 1905, 3.

19. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=mathech01&t=p&year=1905).

20. Christy Mathewson (as told to John N. Wheeler), Pitching in a Pinch (New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1912), 5–6.

21. Jack Ryder, “Four Home Runs Off Overall,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, May 24, 4.

22. Ralph S. Davis, “Jack Harper Victim of Pirate Swatfest,” Pittsburgh Press, May 28, 1905, 18.

23. Jack Ryder, “HOODOO…Demolished by the Reds,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, May 29, 6.

24. Jack Ryder, “Rallied Twice in the Ninth,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, June 1, 1905, 4.

25. “Rallied Twice in the Ninth,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, June 1, 1905, 4.

26. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/?year=1905&month=05&day=31).

27. Baseball-Reference.com ((https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

28. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

29. Jack Ryder, “Cheered by President’s Daughter,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, June 9, 1905, 4.

30. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

31. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=mageesh01&t=b&year=1905).

32. Jack Ryder, “Half Dozen Now the Reds’ Record,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, June 18, 1905, 8.

33. Jack Ryder, “Bunted, Biffed, Banged, Bingled,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, June 19, 1905, 3.

34. Jack Ryder, “Smashed Through Giants Defense,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, June 20, 1905, 4.

35. Jack Ryder, “Broke Reds’ Winning Streak,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, June 21, 1905, 4.

36. Jack Ryder, “Bumped,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, June 22, 1905, 4

37. Jack Ryder, “Quartet of Singles Off Overall,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, June 23, 1905, 4.

38. Ralph S. Davis, “Pirates Walloped by Cincinnati Sluggers,” 38 The Pittsburgh Press, June 25, 1905, 18.

39. “Selee’s Men Hit Ball for 18 Bases,” Chicago Tribune, June 26, 1905, 8.

40. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

41. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

42. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=wagneho01&t=b&year=1905).

43. George L. Moreland, “Seymour and Wagner Having a Close Race,” The Pittsburgh Press, June 25, 1905, 18.

44. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

45. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=wagneho01&t=b&year=1905), (https://www.baseballreference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

46. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

47. Jack Ryder, “Iron Man Won His Own Game,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, July 25, 1905, 4.

48. “Champions Defeat Cincinnati Again,” The New York Times, July 28, 1905, 5.

49. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

50. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/?year=1905&month=07&day=31).

51. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905), (https://www.baseballreference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=wagneho01&t=b&year=1905).

52. “Brooklyns Lose a 13-Inning Game,” The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, August 3, 1905, 11

53. Jack Ryder, “Thirteen Reds at Bat in First,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, August 6, 1905, 10.

54. Jack Ryder, “Pounded Pitt Off the Rubber,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, August 8, 1905, 4.

55. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

56. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

57. Jack Ryder, “Chased to the Tall Timber,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, August 25, 1905, 4.

58. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseballreference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

59. Jack Ryder, “Tired, Shooting the Chutes,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, August 30, 1905, 4.

60. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/?year=1905&month=08&day=31).

61. Baseball-Referance.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

62. Jack Ryder, “Premier Batters in the League. Seymour and Wagner Hook Up in Pittsburgh,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, September 8, 1905, 4.

63. “Premier Batters in the League,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, September 8, 1905, 4.

64. Jack Ryder, “Batted Pirate’s Prize Pitchers,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, September 9, 1905, 3.

65. “Batting Race is Still Close,” Pittsburgh Gazette, September 10, 1905, Third Section, 2.

66. Jack Ryder, “Short Fell the Reds Rally,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, September 16, 1905, 3.

67. “Close Race for the Batting Honors…Wagner and Seymour Are Now Nip and Tuck,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, September 17, 1905, 34.

68. Jack Ryder, “RECRUITS…Seymour Drives Out Two Home Runs in Succession,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, September 25, 1905, 3.

69. “RECRUITS,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, September 25, 1905, 3.

70. Baseball-Reference.com. (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

71. Baseball-Reference.com. (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

72. Baseball-Reference.com. (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

73. Jack Ryder, “Fifteen Rounds with Champs,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, October 2, 1905, 3.

74. “Fifteen Rounds with Champs,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, October 2, 1905, 3. “Through the Day Without Defeat,”

75. The Cincinnati Enquirer, October 4, 1905, 4.

76. “Through the Day Without Defeat,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, October 4, 1905, 4.

77. Jack Ryder, “Seymour Boosts His Big Average,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, October 8, 1905, 18.

78. “Pirates Lose Two: Seymour Leader,” Pittsburgh Gazette, October 9, 1905, 7.

79. “‘Cy’ Seymour The ‘Champeen’ Hitter,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, October 9, 1905, 3.

80. “‘Cy’ Seymour The ‘Champeen’ Hitter,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, October 9, 1905, 3.

81. “‘Cy’ Seymour The ‘Champeen’ Hitter,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, October 9, 1905, 3.

82. “‘Cy’ Seymour The ‘Champeen’ Hitter,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, October 9, 1905, 3.

83. “Pirates Lose Two: Seymour Leader,” Pittsburgh Gazette, October 9, 1905, 7.

84. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=seymocy01&t=b&year=1905).

85. Baseball-Reference.com (http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/gl.fcgi?id=wagneho01&t=b&year=1905).

86. “Seymour Wears Red Sox No More, Cy Sold to Champion New York Giants,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, July 13, 1906, 4.

87. “No Mystery About Cy Seymour’s Batting,” The Scranton Truth, July 31, 1906, 4.

88. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/seymocy01.shtml).

89. Bozeman Bulger, “Bulger Selects the All-Americans for 1906 Season,” The Evening World (New York), September 22, 1906, 8.

90. Letter from Andrew Freedman to William Ewing, May 21, 1900. Baseball Hall of Fame Archives “Cy Seymour Clip File”

91. Letter from Ray Long to August Hermann, January 31, 1906. Baseball Hall of Fame Archives “Cy Seymour Clip File”

92. “Cy Seymour Fired Bodily,” Buffalo Evening News, Sat, March 13, 1909

93. May Buy Cy Seymour, Joe McGinnity is Said to Have Dickered with Player,” The Baltimore Sun, March 13, 1912, 10.

94. Baseball-Reference.com (https://www.baseball-reference.com/players/s/seymocy01.shtml).

95. Letter from J.B. Seymour to August 95 Hermann, November 28, 1913. Baseball Hall of Fame Archives “Cy Seymour Clip File”

96. “Seymour Funeral Today,” The New York Times, September 22, 1919, 12.

97. “Cy Seymour Passes Away,” Pittsburgh Gazette Times, September 22, 1919, 9.

You see the plate umpire point to home and hear the call, “The run scores!” What do you do?

You may respond as many — maybe even most — managers would: charge the umpire and scream, “How the fudge1 does that run count? The runner from third didn’t tag up!” As the umpire explains that the runner crossed the plate before the third out occurred, it finally dawns on you that you need to make an appeal play on the runner on third. You tell the umpire you want to appeal, but get the reply, “It’s too late. Your infielders have already left the field.” All that’s left is to kick dirt on the umpire, expel a few more naughty words, get ejected, and possibly draw a suspension. After all, it’s the umpire’s fault that you don’t know the rules, right?

What should you have done? Yell, but not at the umpire. Yell at your infielders to stay on the field. Next, tell the umpire you want to appeal. When all is reset and an appeal at third is properly performed, the runner will be called out and the run nullified.

This is the fourth-out play, as cited in what is now Rule 5.09(c): “Appeal plays may require an umpire to recognize an apparent ‘fourth out.’ If the third out is made during a play in which an appeal play is sustained on another runner, the appeal play decision takes precedence in determining the out.”

Most appeals occur in non-inning-ending situations, when the appeal must be made before the next play or pitch. In the situation described here, however, a team loses the right to appeal once its infielders, including the pitcher, have left fair territory.

How often has the fourth-out occurred in the white/integrated major leagues? According to rules expert Rich Marazzi, never.2

FORCE PLAY OR NOT?

Beyond general ignorance of the rules by people who are paid to know them, many believe that a runner doubled off a base is a force out. It is not.3 If a perceived force out ends an inning, a manager may think an appeal on another runner isn’t necessary since a run cannot score when the third out is on a force.

This misperception can be costly even in situations in which a runner on third has correctly tagged up.

In a game on June 10, 2010, with Kansas City at Minnesota, the Twins had Nick Punto on third and Denard Span on second with one out in the third when Joe Mauer hit a long fly to center. The wind kept the ball in the park, and Mitch Maier caught it in front of the fence. Punto tagged and, as he started for home, saw that Span had taken off from second and was nearly at third. Punto turned and yelled at Span to retreat while he jogged toward the plate. Maier threw the ball to shortstop Yuniesky Betancourt to double off Span and end the inning. Punto, running at only a trot, was still a few steps short of the plate; thus, his run didn’t count.

Two reporters, a television play-by-play announcer, and a Twins team official asked the official scorer if Punto’s run would have counted had he crossed the plate before the third out. (It definitely would have.) After the game, Punto admitted that he didn’t know the rule, that he thought his run wouldn’t count regardless of whether he crossed the plate ahead of the third out. “I figured a double play is a double play, but it’s not,” Punto said. “You can go ahead and touch home plate there and get the run.” The Twins lost this game, 9–8.4

A year later the Twins may have lost a run in a similar way. In a May 27, 2011, game against the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, Michael Cuddyer hit a long fly to right-center that was caught. Alexi Casilla tagged at third and only jogged toward home as he gestured to teammate Jason Kubel to get back to second. Kubel was doubled off for the third out before Casilla crossed the plate. The Twins lost this game, 6–5.

UNCERTAINTY AMONG UMPIRES

Even the umpires have required prompting on the rule. In a game at Arizona on April 12, 2009, the Los Angeles Dodgers had Andre Ethier on third and Juan Pierre on second with one out when Randy Wolf lined out to pitcher Dan Haren, who threw to shortstop Felipe Lopez. Rather than step on the base, Lopez chased Pierre down. By the time he tagged him for the third out, Ethier — who had been running on contact and hadn’t tagged up — crossed the plate.

“That’s the four-out play,” said Dodgers coach Bob Schaefer to manager Joe Torre, referring to what the Diamondbacks should have then executed, but didn’t. As Arizona left the field, Torre came out to confer with the umpires and remind them that Ethier’s run counted. Torre knew that Ethier’s failure to tag up was irrelevant unless and until the Diamondbacks appealed, and he credited Schaefer for that knowledge. “I remembered because he had put some of the rules on my desk this spring and we read them to the players a number of times last year.”

What Torre and the Dodgers knew was something the Diamondbacks didn’t. “I still don’t really understand the rule,” said Haren. Wrote Dylan Hernandez in the Los Angeles Times, “By reminding the officiating crew of an obscure rule unknown to most of the players at Chase Field, Torre essentially argued in the tying run in the Dodgers’ 3–1 victory over the Arizona Diamondbacks.”5

Confusion has reigned even in situations in which the runner on third did tag up, a scenario that would not have had the potential for a fourth out.

In a Baltimore at Cleveland game April 28, 2007, the Orioles had a 2–1 lead in the top of the third. With Nick Markakis on third and Miguel Tejada on first and one down, Ramon Hernandez flied out to Grady Sizemore in center field. Markakis tagged and came home as Sizemore threw to Ryan Garko at first base to double off Tejada.

Plate umpire Marvin Hudson signaled that Markakis’s run did not count, even though Markakis had clearly crossed the plate before the third out. Hudson waved it off because he did not think a run could score on such a play. Orioles bench coach Tom Trebelhorn knew the run should count but didn’t say anything until after the fourth inning, when he had a short conference with the umpires. Crew chief Ed Montague sent Bill Miller, one of the umpires, to check the rules.

By the time Baltimore manager Sam Perlozzo came out at the end of the fifth inning, Miller had confirmed that the run should have counted. Montague called the press box and told Chad Broski, the official scorer, to add the run to Baltimore’s total. Broski was aware of the situation but had to wait for word from the field to count the run.

“When it happened, I thought the run should have counted but, of course, I have to go off the umpire’s ruling,” said Broski. “Most people in the press box were commenting on the baserunning error by Tejada and didn’t know the rule. Not much happened in the box until the umpire called up and then changed it and I had to announce it. At that point I explained to them why the run counted.”

Cleveland lodged a protest as the score changed from 2–2 to 3–2 in favor of the Orioles. Cleveland scored twice in the last of the sixth for a 4–3 lead, but the Orioles rallied in the eighth and ninth to win, 7–4, a result that stuck when Cleveland’s protest was denied three days later.6

In a game on June 26, 1935, St. Louis at Brooklyn, home plate umpire Charlie Moran misapplied the rules by denying a run to the Dodgers after Jim Bucher had tagged on a fly ball and scored before Jimmy Jordan was doubled off first for the third out. Manager Casey Stengel lodged a protest. However, Brooklyn won the game in extra innings, and league president Ford Frick did not have to rule on the matter. Ray J. Gillespie of the St. Louis Star-Times reported that Moran said the rule governing this type of play had changed, although the rules of the time do not back up Moran’s decision. The Brooklyn Times Union referred to Moran’s decision as “weird.”7

The umpires were on top of the rules when the Yankees visited the Mets on June 28, 1998, but there was still turmoil over the usual conundrum of what a force is and what it isn’t. With the score 1–1 in the last of the ninth, the Mets had Carlos Baerga on third and Brian McRae on first with one out. Luis Lopez flied out to Paul O’Neill. Baerga tagged and was running home when he saw McRae going to second.

“I wanted to start yelling, but I was running too hard,” said Baerga, avoiding the errors of Nick Punto and Alexei Casilla noted in earlier examples.

The Yankees got the ball to Tino Martinez at first as McRae tried to get back. Baerga, after crossing the plate and starting to celebrate, saw first-base umpire Bruce Dreckman signal out. The Mets erupted, and coach Cookie Rojas had to restrain Baerga. Part of the protest may have been over whether or not Martinez had made a clean catch of Derek Jeter’s relay, although it didn’t matter since Baerga scoring ahead of what happened at first base ended the game.

Plate umpire Frank Pulli conferred with Dreckman and, making the judgment that Baerga had crossed the plate before the final out, ruled that the run counted. “I don’t know what he was waiting for,” Mets manager Bobby Valentine said after the game, referring to Pulli’s delayed ruling. “Maybe he just didn’t want us to celebrate.”8

Jeter and Martinez admitted not being familiar with the rule and even manager Joe Torre had to ask about it. Martinez was quoted by Ohm Youngmisuk in the New York Daily News: “I thought that if it’s a forceout at first, I figured the game may go on, but I don’t know the rule.”9

WHAT’S THE SCORE?

A 2016 game in Detroit didn’t have the final score correct until a day later. On June 24, Cleveland held a 7–4 lead over the Tigers, who had Ian Kinsler on second and Cameron Maybin on first with one out in the bottom of the ninth. Miguel Cabrera hit a long fly to center, where Rajai Davis juggled the ball and hung on for the catch. Kinsler and Maybin had taken off without tagging, and Cleveland relayed a throw home too late to get Kinsler at the plate. Chris Gimenez then threw to Mike Napoli at first to double off Maybin and end the game.

Although Kinsler’s run had no bearing on the game outcome, Cleveland could have saved reliever Cody Allen a run by then throwing to second for a fourth out on Kinsler. Not only did Cleveland not realize that — without the additional appeal, Kinsler’s run counted — no one else did, and the final score reported in newspapers the next day was 7–4. A day later, Major League Baseball clarified that Kinsler, having crossed the plate before the third out, did score and the final was changed to 7–5.

Another game that had fans leaving without knowing the score also resulted in Lee Guetterman thinking he had a save. It happened when the Milwaukee Brewers failed to get the fourth out, resulting in a run for the New York Yankees, on July 1, 1989.

In the last of the eighth, the Yankees had a 4–1 lead with Mike Pagliarulo on third and Bob Geren on first. The runners were off on a squeeze play as Wayne Tolleson popped up a bunt. Pitcher Jay Aldrich caught it and threw to first to double off Geren. Pagliarulo had crossed the plate, and plate umpire Larry Barnett signaled that the run counted. Milwaukee didn’t appeal for a fourth out to nullify Pagliarulo’s run.

In addition to the Brewers not being aware of the situation, the same was true with the scoreboard operator, who did not put the run on the board. Everyone thought the Yankees had won, 4–1 only to learn later that the final was 5–1. Guetterman pitched the ninth and was originally credited with a save, since he had entered with what was thought to be a three-run lead. When the score was corrected, Guetterman’s save was removed.

DID THE ASTROS MISS THE PENNANT?

Here’s one that might have been…or maybe was. The best-of-five National League playoff series between Houston and Philadelphia in 1980 was wild, the final four games going into extra innings. Houston was on the verge of earning a trip to the World Series in game four — one that had everything, including protests lodged by both teams after a fourth-inning play with disagreements if there should have been one, two, or three outs called. Houston’s Gary Woods had two baserunning mishaps, one when he was called out on appeal for leaving third base too early on a fly ball.

Less was said about a potential appeal later in the game. As with the fourth-inning play, this one centered on uncertainty about whether a batted ball had been trapped or cleanly caught.

The score was 2–2 in the top of the eighth. With one out, the Phillies had Pete Rose on third and Mike Schmidt on first when Manny Trillo hit a sinking fly to right. As Jeffrey Leonard rushed in to attempt a shoestring catch, Schmidt danced between the bases and finally took off for second when it appeared that Leonard had only trapped the ball. However, right-field umpire Bruce Froemming signaled out. Leonard heaved the ball to the plate, far too short and late to get Rose, racing home from third. Catcher Bruce Bochy then threw to Art Howe at first to double off a now-enraged Schmidt, who claimed Leonard had not made the catch. Froemming’s call stood, the inning was over, but Rose’s run counted, and Philadelphia had a 3–2 lead. Speculation emerged over whether Rose had properly tagged before coming home, but the Astros did nothing about it at the time.

Because of all the other strange events in the game, this play was glossed over in many news accounts. However, Jayson Stark of the Philadelphia Inquirer wrote, “Manny Trillo lined a 1–2 pitch to right that Jeff Leonard may or may not have shoestringed. Ump Bruce Froemming ruled he caught it, and Schmidt was doubled off first for the second sacrifice fly-double play of the day. But Rose had made sure. He waited until the ball came down, then tagged and scored.” Stark quoted third-base coach Lee Elia: “I yelled to him [Rose], ‘Tag up.’ But he already was gonna do that. Only Pete Rose has the instincts to do that. A lot of people would overlook that. Pete was gonna make sure this was a 3–2 ball game.”

On the other hand, the Inquirer’s Allen Lewis wrote,

The oversight may have been costly. The Astros tied the score in the last of the ninth, only to lose in the 10th. The Phillies won again in 10 innings the next night to win the pennant, en route to the team’s first-ever World Series championship. It took another 25 years for Houston to get to the World Series.10

THE 1957 GAME THAT BROKE THE RULE BOOK

In all of the situations so far cited, the rules are clear about a team forfeiting its right to appeal after the infielders have left the field. Through 1957, though, no such provision was in the rule book, only a reference to an “appeal before the next legal pitch.”

Hank Soar had to determine how to handle a situation in an August 22, 1957, game in Cleveland. The Red Sox were up, 10–0, with one out in the top of the ninth and had Gene Mauch on second and Pete Daley on first. Mike Fornieles hit a soft fly to short center. The runners took off, confident that the ball would drop safely, but shortstop Chico Carrasquel made a spectacular running catch. Carrasquel didn’t see Mauch racing for the plate and, rather than step on second, threw to first to double off Daley.

Soar, working the plate, made no indication of Mauch scoring ahead of the third out. Between innings the Red Sox asked if Mauch’s run counted. Soar told them, “We’ll handle this. Just go away.” After the first pitch of the bottom of the ninth, Soar turned toward the official scorer in the press box and yelled, “The run counts.”

Asked after the game if he shouldn’t have indicated in some way that Mauch’s run counted, even if only tentatively, Soar said, “We couldn’t without tipping off that he left his base too soon. On an appeal, it’s up to the teams to call our attention to the play, not for us to call their attention to it.” Cal Hubbard, the American League supervisor of umpires, said Soar handled the situation perfectly and did so even though the rules did not outline the proper method for dealing with such a situation. Hubbard said he would bring the question to the Rules Committee; the following year the rules were amended to acknowledge a potential fourth-out situation and clarify when a team forfeited the opportunity to appeal.11

Columnist Hal Lebovitz posed this hypothetical to Hubbard: same situation, only a 3–3 game with the Red Sox as the home team, batting in the last of the ninth.

Regardless of the lack of clarity in the 1957 rules, Hubbard emphasized that the burden was on the teams. “If they know the rules, they’ll know what to do,” he said. “If not, tough luck.”

As many players and teams have demonstrated in the half-century that followed, they don’t know the rules and it’s often tough luck. 

STEW THORNLEY has been an official scorer for Major League Baseball since 2007 and a member of the MLB Official Scoring Advisory Committee since 2013.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Chad Broski and Rich Marazzi and to Society for American Baseball Research members Wayne McElreavy, Karen Brown, David McDonald, John Hernandez, Howard Elson, Lyle Spatz, Dwight Oxley, Dan Cichalski, Charlie Bevis, Bruce Slutsky, and Steve Gietschier along with Dave Smith and all the great folks at Retrosheet (https://www.retrosheet.org). [Note: The author of this article was the official scorer for both of the Twins games noted in 2010 and 2011; the description of those plays is based on his notes and recollection.]

Notes

  1. Possibly not the exact word a manager would use here.

  2. Marazzi is an author of books on baseball rules and a rules consultant to numerous major-league teams and sports networks. In email correspondence on January 25, 2021, Marazzi said he is not aware of such an event ever happening. He said Sam McDowell once told him a fourth out was executed in a Cleveland game although he hasn’t been able to document it.

  3. From the “Definition of Terms” section of the rule book regarding a force play: “Example: Not a force out. One out. Runner on first and third. Batter flies out. Two out. Runner on third tags up and scores. Runner on first tries to retouch before throw from fielder reaches first baseman, but does not get back in time and is out. Three outs. If, in umpire’s judgment, the runner from third touched home before the ball was held at first base, the run counts.”

  4. John Shipley, “Sloppy Play Costs Twins,” St. Paul Pioneer Press, June 11, 2010: 6D.

  5. Dylan Hernandez, “Play It Out Strictly by the Rules: Torre’s Appeal Leads to, Yes, Four Outs, Tying Run in Second Inning,” Los Angeles Times, April 13, 2009, C1, C11.

  6. Jeff Zrebiec, “Orioles Strike Last in Victory,” Baltimore Sun, April 29, 2007: 1, 13D. Zrebiec, Jeff, “Indians’ Protest Denied,” Baltimore Sun, May 3, 2007: 7E; Email correspondence with Chad Broski, January 22, 2021.

  7. Gillespie, Ray J., “Cards End Eastern Tour with Nine Victories and Eight Defeats: Mediocre Relief Pitching Permits Brooklyn to Win,” St. Louis Star-Times, June 27, 1935: 23; McCullough, “Dodger Victory Averts Protest: Stengel Put Out of Game for Interpreting Rule Correctly,” Brooklyn Times Union, June 27, 1935: 11. Rule 52 of the 1934 and 1935 Official Base Ball Rules notes that no run can score if the third out is forced. The definition of a force play in the rule book states, “A force-out can be made only when a base-runner legally loses the right to the base he occupies by reason of the batsman becoming a base-runner, and he is thereby forced to advance.”

  8. Barry Stanton, “A Funky Finish, But It’s Finally All Over,” Home News Tribune (New Brunswick, New Jersey), June 29, 1998: D2; Tom Withers, Associated Press, June 29, 1998.

  9. Ohm Youngmisuk, “Tino Won’t Concede,” New York Daily News, June 29, 1998: 54; Jason Dumias, “Mets Find Consolation in a Strange Series Finish: Mound Gems Set Up a Confusing Ninth,” and Claire Smith “Welcome to the Flushing Zoo,” The New York Times, June 29, 1998: C1.

10. Jayson Stark, “Phils Come Up with a Surprise Ending in Wild and Crazy 5-3 Win over Astros,” Philadelphia Inquirer, October 12, 1980: 1, 6F; Allen Lewis, “Triple Play? Ain’t No Way,” Philadelphia Inquirer, October 12, 1980: 1, 6F. Frank Mercogliano, in an April 11, 2015 post on the SID [Sports Information Directors] Scoring Assistance Facebook group, wrote of the play, “Leonard caught it and threw home to get Rose, who left way early and scored easily (he was sprinting home when the ball was caught).” However, television coverage (Game 4 of the 1980 playoffs is on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-2kkfWU0zz4) does not show if Rose took off early.

11. In Rules 7.08(d), Rule 7.10, and Rule 7.10 in the Notes and Case Book Comments section in the 1957 rule book, appeals and a “fourth out” are covered but with no clarification on dealing with a situation when a halfinning has apparently ended. Beginning in 1958, Rule 7.10(d) specifies that “during a play which ends a half-inning, the appeal must be made before the defensive team leaves the field.”

12. Hal Lebovitz, “Bosox Score on 4th-Out Puzzler When Indians Nip Wrong Runner: Mauch Leaves Base too Soon, But Tribe Fails to Appeal,” The Sporting News, September 4, 1957: 29; Marazzi, Rich, The Rules and Lore of Baseball, New York: Stein and Day Publishers, 1980: 170–71.

The official rules currently governing sacrifice flies in Major League Baseball have not always been in use, and have varied.1 From 1908 through 1930, the official rules stipulated that a player who batted in a run with a flyout was credited with a sacrifice hit and not charged an at-bat. In fact, from 1926 through 1930, a player was also credited with a sacrifice hit when he hit a flyout that resulted in any baserunner advancing to any base.

Then from 1931 through 1938, the official rules did not credit a batter with a sacrifice when he hit a flyout which permitted a runner to score (or advance to any base); i.e., an RBI flyout was scored as an at-bat, just like an RBI groundout. For the 1939 season, the sacrifice on a fly was re-instituted, but only for RBI flyouts. The sacrifice fly was again eliminated for the 1940–53 seasons; batters were again charged with an at-bat when they hit an RBI flyout.

Finally, the sacrifice fly rule that has been in operation from 1954 to the present restores the rule that batters who hit RBI flyouts are credited with a sac fly, and an RBI flyout is not charged as an at bat, just as a sacrifice bunt is not charged as an at-bat.

The back-and-forth character of the sacrifice fly rule (i.e., at-bat or no at-bat) has resulted in some interesting “What if?” situations. For instance, one of baseball’s oldest (and at-one-time highly revered) batting metrics is batting average (BA, hits divided by at-bats), with the player with the highest batting average being regarded as the batting champion of his league.2 But which players would have won baseball’s batting crowns if the rule had been consistent since 1931? Specifically:

A. What if the current sacrifice fly rule had been in effect for the 1931–53 period?

B. What if the no-sacrifice-fly rule—the one in effect for the 1931–38 and 1940–53 periods—had continued to be in effect from 1954 to today?

RESEARCH PROCEDURE

To address Question A, I utilized Retrosheet to ascertain the number of RBI flyouts achieved by each player who was the league leader in BA as given on the relevant “League Leaders” pages for the seasons from 1931 through 1953. I examined the Retrosheet Play-By-Play (PBP) narratives for each game in which the player’s Retrosheet Daily file indicated he had one or more runs batted in.

I recorded the batting event for each RBI as follows: two-RBI single (S-2), one-RBI double (D-1), one-RBI groundout (GO-1), one-RBI flyout (FO-1), one-RBI walk (W-1), etc. I did the same for each player who finished with a BA within .020 of the leader’s league-leading mark. With complete RBI flyout numbers then in hand, I was able to ascertain the values for a player’s hypothetical BA (i.e., his BA computed with RBI flyouts treated as not being at-bats). With regard to Question B, the hypothetical BA was obtained using the official statistics for sacrifice flies and treating sac-flies as at-bats.

RESULTS

A. What if the Present Sac-Fly rule (No At-Bat) had been in effect for the 1931–53 period?

Table 1 summarizes the five times that a player did not win his league’s batting title during the 1931–53 period because of the “no Sac-Fly” rule. As can be seen, nearly half of the players listed became Hall of Famers. Twice the “no Sac-Fly” rule precluded a player from winning the esteemed Triple Crown of batting.

The first hypothetical change in a batting average king occurred in 1932. The actual 1932 AL batting champion was Dale Alexander, who compiled a batting average of .367 (144 hits in 392 AB).3 Jimmie Foxx finished second with a .364 mark (213 hits in 585 AB). Had the current Sac-Fly rule been operative in 1932, Foxx would have won the batting crown. According to Retrosheet, two of Alexander’s 60 RBIs came via flyouts, which when treated as non at-bats, would adjust his batting average to .3692. Foxx, meanwhile, had eleven RBI flyouts, which—if not counted as at-bats—yields an adjusted batting average of .3711. Since Double X was also the AL leader in home runs (58) and runs batted in (168), he would have won the batting Triple Crown.4

At the conclusion of the 1935 campaign, Buddy Myer emerged with the highest batting average: .3490 (215 hits in 616 AB). Joe Vosmik was runner-up: .3484 (216 hits in 619 AB).5 Jimmie Foxx came in third: .346 (185 hits in 535 AB). However, Vosmik would have been the batting champ if the current Sac-Fly rule had been in effect. Myer had 7 RBI flyouts, which would have given him a hypothetical .3530 BA. Vosmik had 9 RBI flyouts, giving him a hypothetical .3541 BA. Foxx, with only one RBI flyout, would have ended up with .3464.

The 1944 campaign provides the next possible hypothetical change for the occupant of the batting throne. According to the official rules and records, Lou Boudreau compiled the highest qualifying batting average in the American League. With 191 hits in 584 at bats he fashioned a .3271 BA. Close behind were Bobby Doerr (.3248) and Bob Johnson (.3238). Had the current Sac-Fly rule been in effect, all three of these players would have had a higher batting average. According to the PBP details given on the Retrosheet website, Boudreau had six RBI flyouts (which afford an adjusted BA of .3304). Similarly, Doerr’s seven RBI flyouts give him an adjusted BA of .3297. And, Johnson’s eleven RBI flyouts provide him a modified BA of .3307. Thus, it appears that Johnson won our hypothetical batting title. However, there’s an uncertainty connected with Boudreau’s adjusted BA.

In addition to the six clearly-stated RBI flyouts given in the Retrosheet PBPs, there are three RBI plays with the following deduced descriptions:

1. June 21 (at Detroit), first inning. “Boudreau out on an unknown play [Peters scored, O’Dea to second].”
2. July 1 (at Washington), fourth inning. “Boudreau out on an unknown play [Hoag scored (unearned)].”
3. September 20 (vs. Boston), fourth inning. “Boudreau out on an unknown play [Rocco scored].”

Each of these deduced “out on an unknown play” events could be a groundout-RBI or a flyout-RBI. To ascertain which, if any, of these three “unknown plays” was an RBI flyout, I examined the game accounts in pertinent newspapers and found that Boudreau made infield outs in each of the first two games. Unfortunately, the newspaper text descriptions did not resolve the “unknown play” for the third game. Thus, if the “unknown play” was an infield out, Boudreau’s adjusted BA would still be .3304 and Johnson’s hypothetical .3307 BA would still be the highest. However, if the “unknown play” was an outfield flyout, then Boudreau’s adjusted BA would be .3310, resulting in Boudreau retaining the batting crown.6,7

The 1945 AL batting race remains the closest race in history, with a slim .00008 separating the champion’s .30854 batting average from the runner-up’s .30846. George “Snuffy” Stirnweiss, playing in 152 games, amassed 195 hits in 632 at bats to carve out his league-leading .309 mark, while Tony Cuccinello accumulated 124 hits in 402 at bats in the 118 games he played for his second-place .308 BA. However, when one takes into account the RBI flyouts each man had, Cuccinello emerges with the higher hypothetical batting average. Cuccinello, with four RBI flyouts, has an adjusted BA of .31156, while Stirnweiss, with three RBI flyouts, has an adjusted BA of .31001.8 The 1945 campaign was Cuccinello’s final season of his 13-year big league career. Playing “full time” for the first time since 1940, he was basically a “war-time replacement player” during the 1943–45 seasons. Had the current Sac-Fly rule been operative in 1945, he would have been the first and only player to be a BA king in his final major-league season.

In 1949, the chase for the AL batting crown came down to the final day, October 2. Before that day’s diamond action commenced, Boston’s Ted Williams had the highest BA: .344. Detroit’s George Kell was next at .341. As the day unfolded, Williams went 0-for-2 with a pair of walks in Boston’s 5–3 loss to the pennant-clinching Yankees. The Splendid Splinter finished with a .3428 BA (194 hits in 566 AB).

Kell’s Tigers also did not fare well, dropping its game to Cleveland, 8–4. But Kell did well from the batter’s box, collecting two hits in three at bats plus a walk, finishing at .3429 (179 hits in 522 at bats). What would have been the final result if the current Sac-Fly rule had been in place? Kell had six RBI flyouts on the year, which would have boosted his average to .3469 if they had not counted against his at-bats. However, Williams had seven RBI flyouts, which would have elevated his BA to .3470. Teddy Ballgame would have won his third consecutive batting crown and—since he also led the AL in homers (43) and RBIs (159, tied with teammate Vern Stephens)—he would have earned his third Triple Crown.

While there were a few other very close batting races during the 1931–53 period, such as the 1931 NL race (Chick Hafey at .3489 and Bill Terry at .3486) and the 1953 AL race (Mickey Vernon at .3372) and Al Rosen at .3356), but after adjustment the winner remained in the lead.9,10 One other no-sac-fly-impacted batting average item is worth mentioning. In 1941, Ted Williams batted a lusty .406 (185 H in 456 AB), but had his eight RBI flyouts not been counted as at-bats, his batting average would have been .413.

B. What if the “no Sac-Fly” rule (1931–38 and 1940–53) had remained in effect to the present?

If the 1953 Sac-Fly rule had not been changed there would have been four different batting kings (Table 2). In 1970, Alex Johnson edged out Carl Yastrzemski for the AL batting title, .32899 to .32862. However, because Johnson had three sac-flies and Yaz had two, Johnson’s adjusted BA would be .32739 while Carl’s would be .32746 and Yastrzemski would have captured the batting throne by .00007 points. It would have been Yaz’s fourth BA title. Similarly, Derek Jeter would have catapulted over both Manny Ramirez and Bill Mueller in 2003, Josh Harrison would have overtaken Justin Morneau in 2014, and Ketel Marte would have surpassed Christian Yelich in 2019 to earn hypothetical batting titles.

In addition to the hypothetical changes shown in Table 2, Carl Yastrzemski would have surfaced as the 1968 AL batting king with a sub-.300 mark. Yaz, who put together an official batting average of .301 (162 hits in 539 at bats), had four no-at-bat-sac-flies. Had those four sac-flies been at-bat RBI flyouts, his official batting average would have been reduced by three points, to a hypothetical .298.

OTHER HYPOTHETICAL CHANGES

While the traditional batting averages and batting championships are/were historically considered important, they are certainly not viewed with esteem and utility by many of today’s baseball analysts.11 Perhaps the only traditional batting metric still considered at least somewhat worthwhile is slugging average (total bases divided by at bats), which has been included in the annual baseball guides such as Spalding’s Official Base Ball Guide since 1924 for the National League, and since 1947 for the American League (for example, in The Sporting News Official Baseball Guide).

In addition to ascertaining the hypothetical batting champions impacted by the varying sac-fly rules, I also determined the hypothetical slugging kings, as well as the hypothetical leaders in one of today’s more-highly-valued and seemingly ubiquitous batting metrics, on-baseplus-slugging (OPS), which made its in-print debut in 1984.12 Table 3 provides the information for the hypothetical slugging average leaders analogous to Table 1 (i.e., if the 1954 “yes-SF” rule had been utilized for the 1931–53 period).

As can be seen, Hank Greenberg would have surpassed Jimmie Foxx in 1935, Bob Johnson would have overtaken Bobby Doerr in 1944, Vern Stephens would have supplanted George Stirnweiss in 1945, and Ralph Kiner would have leapfrogged over both Andy Pafko and Stan Musial in 1950. According to my research, there would not have been any hypothetical changes in the OPS leaders (and no change in the On-Base Average leaders13).

Tables 4 and 5 present the corresponding adjusted SLG and OPS numbers analogous to Table 2, showing the leaders if the 1953 “no-SF” rule had been used 1954–2019. Joe Adcock would have fashioned a higher adjusted slugging average than Duke Snider in 1956. Similarly for Orlando Cepeda and Frank Robinson in 1961, Andres Galarraga and Darryl Strawberry in 1988, and Carlos Quentin and Alex Rodriguez in 2008. And, as shown in Table 5, Dave Winfield compiled a higher adjusted OPS than Dave Kingman in 1979. Likewise for Dale Murphy and Mike Schmidt in 1984, Mike Piazza and Barry Bonds in 1995, David Ortiz and Alex Rodriguez in 2007, and Giancarlo Stanton and Andrew McCutchen in 2014.

CONCLUDING REMARKS

I emphatically declare that I am not advocating the changing of any official records impacted by the various rules regarding sacrifice flies. Jimmie Foxx (in 1932) and Ted Williams (in 1949) should not be granted Triple Crowns because officially there were no sacrifice flies in those seasons, and Dale Alexander and George Kell earned their batting crowns fair-and-square. Likewise, for all of the other players shown as official batting kings or classified as “hypothetical batting kings” in Tables 1 and 2 and the hypothetical slugging percentage kings and OPS leaders shown in Tables 3–5. 

HERM KRABBENHOFT, a retired organic chemist, has been a SABR member since 1981 and is the author of Leadoff Batters of Major League Baseball (McFarland, 2006).

Acknowledgments

It is a pleasure to thank Pete Palmer, Tom Ruane, and Dixie Tourangeau for their inputs and help with the research I carried out for this project, some of which was described previously in a presentation I made at the Baseball Records Committee Meeting at the SABR 45 Convention (Chicago, June 2015, “The Impact of the Sac-Fly Rule on Baseball Royalty…The Kings of the Percentage Crowns for Batters”).

Dedication

I should like to dedicate this article to my good friend and fellow SABR member Art Neff. Thanks, Art, for your fantastic collaboration in documenting the uniform numbers of Detroit Tigers players (1931–2019) and all the great times we’ve shared at SABR meetings and ballgames as we achieved the feat of attending and scoring at least one game at every current major league ballpark through the 2019 season. All the best for you and Sue!

Notes

  1. John Schwartz, “The Sacrifice Fly,” The Baseball Research Journal, 1981, 150–58.

  2. “Spalding’s Official Base Ball Guide, 1877,” provides (pages 50–51) the “batting averages of players who have taken part in six or more championship games.”

  3. However, there has been some disagreement with the official position. For example, in its file of ML League Leaders for the 1932 season, for the AL BAVG, Retrosheet has the following rank-order list: “.364 Foxx PHI; .349 Gehrig NY; .367 Alexander DET-BOS; .342 Manush WAS.” Both BAVG and Alexander are shown with plus (+) signs, directing the reader to the statement “Alexander was officially recognized as winning the batting title.”

  4. According to the Retrosheet Player Daily file for Jimmie Foxx for 1932, Foxx amassed a total of 168 RBIs, one RBI fewer than the 169 RBIs given in the AL’s official DBD records. The discrepancy is attributable to the second game of the Boston vs. Philadelphia double header on August 13: The official DBD records mistakenly show Foxx credited with one (1) RBI. The Athletics scored eight runs in the game, with, according to the official records, the runs batted in by Jimmy Dykes (1), Foxx (1), Mule Haas (2), and Bing Miller (4). According to Retrosheet’s detailed PBP narrative, there are no discrepancies with the official RBI numbers for Dykes, Haas, and Miller. However, as stated in the Retrosheet PBP for the third inning, Philadelphia scored its one run as follows: “Bishop walked; Haas out on a sacrifice bunt (pitcher to first) [Bishop to second]; Cochrane popped to shortstop; Kline threw a wild pitch [Bishop scored]; Simmons singled to first; Foxx walked [Simmons to second]; McNair forced Simmons (third unassisted).” Thus, Foxx did not have any RBIs in the game and his full-season total is 168, not 169, RBIs.

  5. According to the Retrosheet Player Daily file for Joe Vosmik for 1935, Vomik amassed a total of 619 at-bats, one fewer than the 620 at-bats given in the AL’s official DBD records. The discrepancy is attributable to the St. Louis vs. Cleveland game on June 03: The official DBD records show Vosmik with seven (7) at bats. The Retrosheet box score and PBP details show that Vosmik had six (6) at bats in seven plate appearances — (1) he doubled in the first; (2) he walked in the third; (3) he flied out to right in the fifth; (4) he flied out to right in the seventh; (5) he popped out to the catcher in the tenth; (6) he flied out to right in the twelfth; (7) he singled in the fourteenth. Thus, in actuality, Vosmik achieved a final batting average of .3489 (216 H in 619 AB), as shown in Table 1, not a final batting average of .3484 (216 H in 620 AB), as given in the official AL DBD records.

  6. The details for Boudreau’s six FO-RBIs are given here: (1) April 30 (second game) (5th inning) – “Boudreau flied out to right [Heath scored];” (2) May 31 (8th inning) – “Boudreau flied out on an unknown play [Keltner scored (unearned)];” (3) July 07 (1st inning) – “Boudreau flied out on an unknown play [Seerey scored (unearned)];” (4) July 13 (first game) (1st inning) – “Boudreau hit into a double play to center [O’Dea scored, Hockett out at third (center to first to third)];” (5) July 13 (second game) (4th inning) – “Boudreau flied out to left [Rocco scored];” (6) August 16 (8th inning) — “Boudreau flied out to right [Hockett scored].”

  7. It is also noted that the Retrosheet PBP file for Doerr has one “unknown play” in which Doerr was credited with one RBI: July 20 (Boston at Chicago, 8th inning)—”Doerr out on an unknown play [Fox scored, B. Johnson to second].” According to the game account provided in the Chicago Tribune, “Fox did most of the damage against Maltzberger in the eighth, hitting a triple with the bases loaded and scoring on an infield out [by Doerr].”

  8. It is noted that Retrosheet’s “ML Leaders” file for 1945 does not include Cuccinello as the AL player with second highest batting average. the Retrosheet procedure for generating its list of the top four players uses the 1957 official rules, which require a minimum of 3.1 plate appearances per scheduled game for a player’s team. [Tom Ruane, email to Herm Krabbenhoft, February 28, 2021] Thus, according to Retrosheet, 477 plate appearances were required for a player to qualify for the batting title (and be included in the list of the players with the four highest batting averages). However, Retrosheet’s position is not in alignment with the “official rules” of major league baseball for the 1945 season. Actually, according to the official rules for major league baseball, there were no minimum requirements to qualify for the batting title; this was the situation for all seasons prior to 1950. The customary practice, however, was to award the batting championship to the player with the highest batting average — provided he played in at least 100 games. Beginning with the 1950 season, the official rules specified that “to be eligible for the individual batting championship of a major league, a player must be credited with at least 400 times at bat.” Thus, Cuccinello, who played in 118 games and had 402 at bats would have been eligible for the individual batting title in 1950 — as well as in 1945. Indeed, several baseball encyclopedias [e.g., The Baseball Encyclopedia (ten editions, Macmillan), Total Baseball (eight editions, several publishers), The ESPN Baseball Encyclopedia (five editions, Sterling)] each show the top five AL batters for 1945 as follows—Stirnweiss (.309), Cuccinello (.308), Dickshot (.302), Estalella (.299), and Wyatt (.296).

  9. Not surprisingly, shortly after it was announced that the sacrifice fly rule had been re-instituted [Hy Turkin, “Batters Get Break in Rule Change,” The Sporting News, Volume 136, Number 16 (November 11, 1953), 1–2], the following was reported in The Sporting News [Volume 136, Number 17 (November 18, 1953), 14]: “Had the sacrifice fly rule been changed one year earlier, it would not have affected the American League batting championship, according to Hal Lebovitz of the Cleveland News. ‘Al Rosen and Mickey Vernon hit six sacrifice flies in 1953, scoring runners from third base, and, therefore, Vernon would have remained ahead of Rosen,’ Lebovitz wrote. ‘Eliminating a time at bat each sacrifice fly, Rosen’s average advances from .336 to .339. Vernon’s jumps from .337 to .341.’”

10. Similarly for the 1953 National League batting title: Roscoe McGowan reported in The Sporting News [Volume 136, Number 18 (November 25, 1953), 6]: “Carl Furillo brought five mates home from third base for a potential batting average gain of four points, which would have made his league-leading mark .348.” In the previous issue [J. Roy Stockton, “Rule Changes Please Players,” The Sporting News, Volume 136, Number 17 (November 18, 1953), the following was reported: “Bob Broeg (Post-Dispatch baseball writer) furnished statistics on Stan Musial and Red Schoendienst to show the effect the sacrifice fly would have had on their 1953 batting marks. Musial, who hit .337, hit eight run-scoring flies, and if they had been sacrifices, Stan would have finished the season with .342. Schoendienst hit .342 and five run-scoring flies, if sacrifices, would have made his average .345.” Schoendienst’s official .342 placed second to Furillo’s official .344.

11. Anthony Castrovince, A Fan’s Guide to Baseball Analytics (New York: Sports Publishing, 2020), 4–7.

12. John Thorn and Pete Palmer with David Reuther, The Hidden Game of Baseball (Garden City, NY: Double Day & Company, Inc., 1984), 69; Alan Schwartz, “The Numbers Game,” (New York: St. Martins Press, 2004), 165, 233; Bryan Grosnick, “Separate but not quite equal: Why OPS is a ‘bad’ statistic,” beyondtheboxscore.com, September 18, 2015. Accessed January 20, 2021. See also: Tom Tango, “This is a step-by-step explanation as to why you should use some form of modified OPS, and not just OPS,” insidethebook.com, February 07, 2007. Accessed January 20, 2021; Pete Palmer, “Why OPS Works,” The Baseball Research Journal, Volume 48, Number 2 (Fall 2019), 43–47.

13. On Base Average (OBA) [the sum of (times on base via hits, walks, and hit by pitched balls) divided by the sum of (at bats plus walks plus times hit by pitched balls plus sacrifice flies)] was formulated by Branch Rickey and Alan Roth in 1954 and became an official stat in 1984; see: (a) Branch Rickey, “Goodby to Some Old Baseball Ideas,” Life, August 2, 1954, 79–89; (b) Pete Palmer, “On Base Average for Players,” The Baseball Research Journal, 1973, 87–91; (c) Ray C. Fair and Danielle Catambay, “Branch Rickey’s Equation Fifty Years Later,” Cowles Foundation Discussion Paper No. 1529, July 2005 (Revised, January 2007), Cowles Foundation for Research in Economics, Yale University, New Haven CT. It should be emphasized that on base average is not impacted by the varying Sac-Fly rules for the 1931–38, 1940–53, and 1954–2019 periods because (a) for the 1931–38 and 1940–53 periods, there were no sacrifice flies (i.e., RBI flyouts were at bats) and because (b) for the 1954–2019 period, sacrifice flies are included in the denominator of the OBA formula. For the exceptional 1939 season, the OBA league leaders were, as given on Baseball-Reference.com) Jimmie Foxx (AL, .466) and Mel Ott (NL, .449). It is pointed out that these OBA values were computed without including sacrifice flies — because sacrifice flies were not specifically tabulated in the official records: the official records only tabulated the sum of sacrifice hits (bunts) and sacrifice flies. Including Sac-Flies, as ascertained by examining the pertinent Retrosheet PBP narratives (5 for Foxx and 9 for Ott), in the denominator yields adjusted (true) OBA values of .462 and .441, respectively. According to my research, no AL player had a higher adjusted (true) OBA number than Foxx; likewise, no NL player had a higher adjusted (true) OBA number than Ott.

Appendix notes

  1. These FO-RBI details are taken from the Retrosheet PBP narratives; the outfield positions are Left (L), Center (C), and Right (R). For some FO-RBIs the Retrosheet PBP narrative states “player-A flied out on unknown play [player-B scored].” For these the fielding position is shown as a question mark i.e., (?).

  2. For some FO-RBIs the fielder was an infielder; for these the fielding positions are abbreviated as follows — First (F), Second (S), Shortstop (SS), Third (T).

  3. The FO-RBIs for Foxx (1939) and Ott (1939) were officially recorded as sacrifice hits; see endnote 13.

The 2020 Major League Baseball season was unprecedented, as games were played without fans for the entire COVID-19-abbreviated schedule, creating a unique environment for study of the effect of fans on MLB team performance.

The season almost never happened at all. After the COVID-19 pandemic abruptly halted Spring Training and delayed Opening Day, players and owners squabbled for months over a plan to return to the field. As the virus continued to kill thousands each week and compromise the global economy, an agreement was finally reached to play 60 regular season games with significant scheduling and travel modifications, notable rule changes, and increased safety protocols. Teams would travel shorter distances than usual, playing games only against regional opponents. The National League (NL) would adopt the Designated Hitter (DH) for the first time. Regarding safety protocols, the most striking change was the exclusion of fans and nonessential personnel from all 2020 MLB games.

With the exception of an April 29, 2015, White Sox-Orioles game played without fans due to rioting in the city of Baltimore, this was uncharted territory. This new reality produced a powerful consensus — seemingly everyone could concur that they missed fans in the ballparks.

While the circumstances of the 2020 MLB campaign were far from ideal for owners, coaches, players, and fans, the season does present a unique research opportunity. Home-field advantage has long been observed in all major team sports, including baseball. While the advantage in baseball is smaller than in other sports, an MLB team could historically be expected to win between six and seven more games at home than on the road in a given season (Moskowitz and Wertheim, 2011).1 Over the past several decades, researchers have sought to explain this persistent phenomenon. While multiple explanations have been advanced, the most common centers on the effect of attending crowds. Cheering (or booing) fans, the argument goes, affect the performance of players or umpires, leading to advantages for the home team.

Because the 2020 MLB season was played without crowds, we are able to test the impact of fans on game outcomes through this unique natural experiment. If crowds are indeed the primary driver of home-field advantage, then we should expect home teams to perform more poorly in 2020 than they typically do. We examine all 8,188 MLB games played from 2017 through 2020 in an effort to assess whether the absence of fans reduced home-field advantage in 2020. To our surprise, it did not. Home teams continued to enjoy comparable success, winning 55.7% percent of their games in 2020. This figure was actually slightly higher — albeit not significantly so — than that observed in the three previous seasons. Through a series of multivariate OLS and Probit regressions, we also report that the unique travel circumstances associated with 2020 had no effect on home team performance. Predictably, home team quality did have a strong, positive relationship with on-the-field success.

Our work proceeds in several steps. First, we discuss the logic regarding why home crowds arguably should confer an advantage to MLB home teams. Second, we briefly address the relevant scholarly literature. Third, we present our methods and findings. Finally, we discuss the implications of our results, as well as some potential directions for future research.

FANS AND HOME-FIELD ADVANTAGE

The impact of fans on the outcome of professional sporting events has long been part of popular lore and conventional wisdom. To take an early literary example, Ernest Lawrence Thayer’s 1888 poem Casey at the Bat is as much about the emotions of the crowd as it is about the failure of the title character. Indeed, the prospect of their hero having a chance to win the game transforms the atmosphere from a “pall like silence” to a “lusty yell” which echoed from “five thousand throats.” The fictitious crowd is so invested in the outcome of the game that they even threaten to, “‘Kill him! Kill the umpire!’…[A]nd it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Casey raised his hand [and] [W]ith a smile of Christian charity…stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on.” While Casey ultimately strikes out and leaves the Mudville faithful with “no joy,” the logic is brutally simple; the crowd has power and influence (Thayer, 1888).

In theory, the power to affect outcomes comes in two basic forms: 1) the ability to change the performance of players and 2) the ability to change the performance of umpires. Arguably, fans can use their cheers to either exert a positive energy or a negative one. When applied to players, positive energy would encourage them to play harder, have confidence in their own abilities, and know that they are loved — presumably all things that will result in improved performance of home team athletes. When applied to umpires, this encouraging form of cheering would provide positive reinforcement for calls that benefit the home team — something that would result in their players having increased success thanks to a systematic bias in their favor.

Conversely, conventional wisdom would suggest that cheering also has more sinister or negative uses — those of negative reinforcement or coercion through peer-pressure. Fans booing players or umpires, for example, could worsen the performance of visiting athletes or influence the impartiality of officials in favor of the home team.

This theory has a simple and appealing logic for fans, players, and owners alike.2 Not only is it intuitive that cheering influences the outcome of the game, but the belief that fans play their own role in determining the outcome of games helps maintain fan interest, merchandise sales, and attendance. While there are plausible theoretical and psychological explanations for it, does the evidence support the hypothesis that fan participation is the primary catalyst for home-field advantage?

LITERATURE

Despite the fact that millions of fans spend billions of dollars to attend live sporting events worldwide each year, their impact on the outcome of actual games was not rigorously tested until recent decades. The lack of serious study is the failure of both sports teams and academics. Until recently, sport franchises tended to be some of the least analytically inclined businesses, preferring to trust their scouts, coaches, and “insiders” to make decisions about how to construct and manage their teams.3

What analytics they did conduct were proprietary in nature and thus not shared outside their limited circle for fear of other teams copying or exploiting their own methods. Similarly, until recently, few academics seriously studied sports in a rigorous manner and few peer-reviewed journals existed to validate their work and expose it to a broader audience.

The first major academic analysis regarding the impact of home-field advantage on team performance was published in 1977 by Barry Schwartz and Stephen F. Barsky. In this groundbreaking work, the authors concluded that there was a very strong, positive correlation between playing at home and team performance. The authors reported that home-field effects were most pronounced in “indoor” sports such as ice hockey and basketball and less pronounced in “outdoor” sports such as baseball and football. While this study had some methodological limitations, it made a critical breakthrough for future researchers — home team advantages were due primarily to social forces from the crowd. Meanwhile, the authors concluded that factors such as visiting team fatigue and (un)familiarity with the home arena had no measurable impact on the outcome of games.

Schwartz and Barsky’s research spurred a series of follow-on studies which generally supported their initial findings regarding a strong correlation between fan participation (e.g. noise level, attendance, behavior, etc.) and team performance. With the possible exception of unruly or disruptive fans (Thirer & Rampey, 1979), there is a positive correlation: the greater the fan participation, the greater the performance (Courneya and Carron, 1992; Carron, Loughead, & Bray, 2005; Armatas and Pollard, 2013; Goumas, 2014).4

In an effort to test a causal mechanism regarding why home crowds affected the outcome of games, research began to examine the impact of crowds on two different groups: 1) players and 2) officials. While it is incredibly difficult to measure the true impact of crowd noise on players’ performance, the majority of studies suggest that crowds probably have little impact on the individual performance of players. Studies that examine repeatable actions such as free throws in basketball, shoot-outs in ice hockey, and field goals (from comparable distances) and extra-point kicks in football show remarkably little variation from athletes at home versus on the road (Moskowitz & Wertheim, 2011).

Some studies suggest that playing at home may lead to higher levels of testosterone and cortisol versus playing on the road (Neave & Wolfson, 2003; Carré, Muir, Belanger, and Putnam, 2006), yet the actual impact of these chemical changes on physical aggression and athletic performance has not been fully supported by scientific research (Jones, Bray, & Olivier, 2005). Moreover, these studies were primarily conducted on amateur ice hockey players, not professional athletes. Given the (literally) toxic and taboo nature of performance enhancing drugs in professional sports, it is unlikely that such research could be conducted on professional athletes.

While the impact of crowds on player performance is inconclusive at best, what about the ability of crowds to systematically bias officials? Again, the logic here is that officials may conform to the pressure of the home crowd by giving them favorable calls, or that they could use the initial reaction of the crowd as a heuristic short cut to rapidly make a difficult call under tight time constraints. One would expect that the larger the crowd, the greater the impact on officiating, particularly in cases of close or judgment calls such as penalties or fouls in a variety of sports, balls and strikes in baseball, and stoppage time in soccer. Indeed, evidence exists to support the hypothesis that a noisy crowd does impact the judgment of officials in a manner that benefits the home team (Downward and Jones, 2007).5 A similar series of studies tested this hypothesis by comparing soccer games under normal crowd conditions with those played under no-noise conditions where officials watched games with headphones or without sound. The results showed that on judgment calls such as extra time or penalties, officials were much more likely to 1) reward the home team with extra time and 2) punish the visiting team with penalties in the presence of crowd noise than in no-noise conditions (Boyko, Boyko, and Boyko, 2007; Nevill, Balmer, and Williams, 2002; Unkelbach and Memmert, 2010).

The most scientific way to explore crowd effects is to compare officials’ calls with a home crowd present to known cases where one was not present. This unusual situation actually occurred in the Italian Soccer League in 2006–2007 because of inadequate safety precautions in stadiums, as well as in various 2020 professional soccer leagues because of COVID-19. In the games played without crowds, a home-field advantage was still observed, but it was both substantively and statistically less than games in the control group played in front of fans (Pettersson-Lidbom and Priks, 2010; van de Ven, 2011; and Baldwin, 2020).6

While professional soccer has accounted for the plurality of studies on crowd effects, Major League Baseball (MLB) is an ideal candidate for this research because it has a large number of judgment calls in the form of balls and strikes which have a clear impact on the outcome of games. The most notable study to explore crowd effects on officiating in MLB appears in Jon Wertheim and Toby Moskowitz’s popular book, Scorecasting. In a study analyzing over 1.5 million ball-strike determinations in 2002–08, the authors determined that the social pressure of the crowd systematically favored home teams. This finding was particularly pronounced in “high leverage” situations such as full counts, where the batter could either walk or strike out based on the call of the home plate umpire. According to the researchers, high leverage ball-strike determinations accounted for 516 more strike outs called against away teams and 195 more walks for home teams, enough to account for a “sizable fraction of the home team’s success in MLB” (Moskowitz and Wertheim, 2011; Chen, Moskowitz, & Shue, 2016).

While this research was extremely rigorous, it could not test the impact of playing without a crowd. Indeed, until the 2020 MLB season, there was only one regular season game ever played without fans, hardly a sufficient sample size to draw any meaningful conclusions. With the 2020 season complete, however, there are now 898 games that can be analyzed to subject the crowd effects hypothesis to new scrutiny.7 The unique features of 2020 games can also be used to explore some competing hypotheses regarding homefield advantage.

In addition to the impact of crowds on home team advantage, researchers have also found that road team fatigue from travel (Recht, Lew, and Schwartz, 1995; Goumas, 2013), as well as the ability of home teams to bat last (Simon and Simonoff, 2006) and pitch first (Smith, 2015), can also produce positive advantages for home clubs. Furthermore, teams constructing their rosters to exploit the unique dimensions of their home stadiums appears to have little or no effect on homefield advantage (Moskowitz and Wertheim, 2011).

DATA AND METHODS

Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the 2020 MLB campaign was delayed nearly four months and consisted of only 60 regular season games (instead of the usual 162) per team. Games were played in teams’ home stadiums, though fans were not permitted to attend. Instead, some organizations chose to place cardboard cutouts in some seats, particularly those most visible on television. While teams also experimented with artificial crowd noise, the typical cheers and boos that accompany home runs, errors, and controversial ball-strike calls were nowhere to be found.

Furthermore, the league altered team travel in an attempt to minimize the risk of contracting COVID-19. Teams played only against 1) other clubs in their division or 2) teams in the corresponding division in the opposite league (i.e. NL East teams played against other NL East teams and AL East teams only). For the first time, the Designated Hitter (DH) rule was applied to NL teams, meaning pitchers would no longer be required to bat. Games played as part of doubleheaders were shortened to seven innings, while a runner was automatically placed on second base at the start of all extra innings. The Toronto Blue Jays — denied permission to play in their home stadium by the Canadian government — were forced to play the entire season in a minor league park in Buffalo, New York. And on nearly two dozen occasions, feared or actual COVID-19 outbreaks caused home teams to play games in the away team’s stadium.

While the 2020 season was less than ideal for all involved, the altered landscape offers convenient treatment and control groups. Some aforementioned explanations for home-field effects (e.g. batting last, stadium familiarity, the comforts of home) were unchanged in 2020. If these features are indeed major drivers of home-field effects, then we would not expect home teams to perform worse in 2020 relative to previous years. But if screaming fans are responsible for teams playing better at home — due to effects on either players or umpires — then any normal effects should be absent in 2020. Similarly, if travel fatigue typically hurts away teams, then the restricted travel schedule in 2020 would be expected to lessen — at least slightly — these effects.

Our first goal is identifying whether home-field advantage changed during the 2020 season. Data were obtained through Baseball-Reference.com, which includes dates, outcomes, and attendance figures for each contest. One-way ANOVA and Chi Square tests determine whether home-field advantage dropped in 2020 relative to each of the three previous seasons. We measure home-field advantage in two ways: 1) the mean run differential enjoyed by home teams during the respective years (HTRunDiff) and 2) the share of games won by the home team (HTWin). One could argue that if crowd effects matter, they should help determine winners and losers. This is particularly true if crowds matter most in high-leverage situations, as Moskowitz & Wertheim (2011) suggest. However, we include the run differential measure because it is also possible that empty stadiums impact team performance, but not in ways that cause significant changes in win rates.

Second, we conduct a series of OLS and Probit regression tests to better gauge the role of empty stadiums and other potential factors on home-field advantage. Our unit of analysis is each MLB game (N=8,188) played 2017–2020. We again run models with two different dependent variables — a continuous measure noting the home team’s run differential in a respective game and a binary measure of home team victory.

Our primary independent variable is a binary variable noting whether a game was played without a crowd (NoCrowd). Because only 2020 contests were played without fans in the four years examined, this measure is effectively a binary measure for 2020 games. As we discussed, research has suggested that the mere existence of a crowd may not fully capture fans’ effect on outcomes. Crowd size or density may also matter (Armatas and Pollard, 2013; Goumas, 2014). We therefore include specifications that consider both total attendance (CrowdSize) and the share of the park filled in each game (CrowdDensity).8

In a typical season, a team with 10,000 fans may not enjoy the same home-field advantage as one with 50,000. If this is true, then it would follow that a drop from 10,000 to 0 in 2020 would not be the same as a drop from 50,000 to 0. Notably, our attendance variables capture tickets sold rather than the number of fans actually attending games (which teams do not announce). Nevertheless, these metrics should capture variation in attending crowds reasonably well.

Because research has also offered travel fatigue as an explanation for home-field advantage (Recht, Lew, and Schwartz, 1995; and Goumas, 2013), we include two variables designed to capture situations when the home team may be affected by travel factors. The first is a binary measure indicating whether the away team is an out-of-division opponent (NonDiv). In most cases, these opponents are required to travel further than division opponents. Even if they are traveling from a different city (as part of a longer road trip), this indicates that they have been on the road for an extended period of time, perhaps exacerbating fatigue effects. Because 2020 did not include out-of-division matchups (but previous years did), this variable should help isolate any effects of that year’s unusual travel schedule. If this measure is significant and positive, we can gain confidence that home teams typically benefit from playing teams who have traveled further, likely due to increased fatigue.

The second travel variable is a binary measure indicating whether the home team played a game on the road the previous day (RecentTravel). While away teams nearly always must travel, home teams generally do not. However, there are instances when home teams must return from an away series in another city before beginning a new series in their own park. In these situations, we should expect that travel fatigue would not be considerably different for the home team than the road team.

Not only were games played without a crowd in 2020, but there were 24 games in which the home team was forced to play in the visiting stadium. Most, though not all, of these instances were due to COVID-19 related game postponements. Furthermore, the Toronto Blue Jays were forced to play each of their home games at Sahlen Field, the team’s Triple-A park in Buffalo, New York. If the comforts of home and/or park familiarity are valid explanations for home-field advantage, we would expect those effects to be absent in each of these cases. As a result, we include binary variables noting 1) home games played in visiting parks (HomeTeamRoad) and 2) games played at neutral sites (NeutralPark). The latter variable also captures three Houston Astros home games played in a neutral setting (in Tampa Bay) during Hurricane Harvey in 2017.

MLB rules arguably confer an advantage to home teams. First, as Simon and Simonoff (2006) have reported, batting last is an asset to home teams. In addition, interleague contests between American League (AL) and National League (NL) teams adopt the Designated Hitter (DH) rule, or lack thereof, of the home club. AL teams have played with the DH since 1973, though NL teams instead allowed pitchers to hit until 2020. Before 2020, we would expect both AL and NL teams to have an added advantage in home interleague games because their rosters were constructed in a way that matched the applicable DH rules.

In 2020 — just one month before the season began — the National League adopted the DH for the first time. Because this was too late to modify rosters in a meaningful way, AL home teams appeared to still benefit from DH rules in 2020 interleague contests, while NL home teams did not. We therefore include a binary measure for interleague games during 2017–20 in which the home team should be advantaged — AL-hosted contests in 2017–20 and NL hosted contests in 2017–19 (InterleagueAdv).

Finally, one of the most obvious predictors of a home team’s success in a given game is the quality of its roster. While teams of all talent levels tend to perform better at home than on the road, better teams should have more success at home than poorer teams. Similar to Goumas (2014), we therefore control for each home team’s division ranking at the time a game was played. All MLB teams belong to divisions consisting of five teams. To capture team quality, we include binary variables noting whether a team was in first, second, fourth, or fifth place before a particular contest (FirstPlace, SecondPlace, FourthPlace, FifthPlace).9

While we run specifications with additional variables (as discussed) to ensure robustness, our primary regression model can be expressed as:

FINDINGS

Figures 1 and 2 feature simple bar graphs demonstrating home-field advantage in MLB 2017–20. The graphics clearly suggest that the advantage did not decline in 2020, both in terms of the mean run differential or win percentage enjoyed by the home team, respectively. In fact, home teams appeared to perform slightly better in 2020. While run differential and win percentage generally mirror one another, 2019 was a bit unusual in that home teams actually scored fewer runs per game despite winning nearly 53% of their contests.

In fact, while all but six MLB teams had better records at home than on the road in 2019, just 16 had better run differentials at home. It appears that many MLB clubs won home games by smaller margins than they tended to lose them that season, suggesting that their run scoring was unusually efficient.

Table 1 presents a One-way ANOVA test that examines whether the mean run differential recorded by home teams significantly differed in any of the four years examined. Because the p value is 0.490, we can confidently assert that no significant differences are present. The dip observed in 2019 does not represent a statistically significant deviation from the other years we examined. More importantly for our purposes, 2020 did not feature a statistically meaningful drop or rise in home team run differential.

Table 2 presents a Chi-Square test that compares the means of home team win percentage across the four years. With a p value of 0.356, we continue to report no significant differences between home team performance during the 2017–20 seasons. These findings are striking, as they indicate that the absence of fans in 2020 did not alter the strength of home performance in any discernible way.

Through more sophisticated regression models, we are able to assess the role of empty ballparks while accounting for other potential predictors of home-field advantage. Table 3 presents our findings using the home team’s run differential as the dependent variable.

Table 3. Predicting MLB Home Team Run Advantage, 2017–20 (OLS Regression)

In the first specification, with only the binary measure of empty stadiums included, we confirm the insignificant findings reported in the One-way ANOVA test. Homefield advantage was unaffected by the absence of fans in 2020. In the second test, with all covariates now included, we continue to report no relationship between the primary independent variable and home team run differential. In the third and fourth tests, we substitute our binary measure of crowd-free games for continuous variables capturing total stadium attendance and the share of the stadium that was full, respectively. While these values are always zero for 2020 contests, they vary considerably for 2017–19 contests. Neither variable registers a significant effect on home team performance, meaning that the existence, size, or density of crowds did not appear to aid home teams over the course of 8,188 games played during 2017–20.

Our full model produces other notable findings. Predictably, team quality is highly significant of a home team’s performance (p<.01). First and second place teams are significantly more likely to enjoy large run differentials at home than lesser-ranked teams. Conversely, fourth and fifth place teams have lower run margins than higher-ranked clubs. The substantive effects are notable. In the second specification, a first place team is expected to have a run differential that is 1.4 runs greater per game than non-first place teams. Meanwhile, fifth (last) place teams are associated with a run differential 0.79 runs smaller than teams ranked higher in their respective divisions.

More surprisingly, we report a negative relationship between games where the home team is advantaged in interleague contests (due to the Designated Hitter rules) and home team run differential. This finding, which is significant with 95% confidence (p<.05), suggests that home teams in interleague games where a DH advantage exists (n=979) are associated with run differentials 0.38 runs smaller than home teams in other settings. While this finding is a bit counterintuitive, it is possible that adjusting to new Designated Hitter rules is less burdensome for teams than we anticipated. Nevertheless, because interleague contests comprise a fairly small share of games in our data set, we encourage more scrutiny in this area.

Notably, we report no significant effects regarding travel in any tests. Home teams hosting non-division opponents see no increased run differential, as we anticipated might be the case. Furthermore, those home teams playing immediately after returning from a road game the day before were not disadvantaged. As a result, we cannot confirm the results of others (Recht, Lew, and Schwartz, 1995; Goumas, 2013) regarding the effect of travel fatigue on home-field advantage.

Interestingly, teams playing “home” games in road stadiums or at neutral sites (e.g. the Toronto Blue Jays) were no less likely to record positive run differentials. We do caution, however, that the sample size of these cases is small. There were only 24 contests requiring home teams to play at a road park in 2020. Regarding neutral sites, cases are limited to all Toronto Blue Jays home games played in Buffalo in 2020 (n=26) and three Houston Astros games played in Tampa Bay in 2017 due to Hurricane Harvey.

Table 4 replicates the previous tests, but substitutes a binary measure of home team victory as the dependent variable.

Table 4. Predicting MLB Home Team Win Likelihood, 2017–20 (Probit Regression)

Because of the dichotomous nature of the dependent variable, a Probit regression test is appropriate for each of these tests. Once again, we report no significant effect of a crowd, its size, or its percentage filled on a home team’s success in a given game. Home teams were more likely to win in each of the four years we examined (see Figure 2), but crowds did not increase their likelihood of doing so in a statistically significant way.

We again report significant associations between team quality and home team success. First-place clubs are 39 percentage points more likely to win home games than other clubs, while fifth-place teams are 25 percentage points less likely to win home games than higher-ranked teams. We also continue to find that home teams advantaged in interleague games performed a bit worse than they did in other contests. Mirroring our findings in Table 3, we report no relationship between travel conditions or teams playing away from their home parks and a home team’s likelihood of victory.

CONCLUSIONS AND DIRECTIONS FOR FUTURE RESEARCH

Examining 8,188 MLB games over four years, we find no significant effect of crowds on home team performance. The presence of fans does not predict higher run differentials or likelihood of victory for host clubs. Even in 2020, when crowds were entirely absent from MLB parks, home-field advantage remained strong. Our findings are similar to those reported by Van de Ven (2011), who reported that home-field advantage persisted when crowds were removed in Italian soccer contests. Try as they might, fans may have limited ability to impact their teams’ success by influencing the abilities of players on the field or the impartiality of umpires. Homer Hankeys, Bleacher Bums, Tomahawk Chops, Rally Monkeys, and mascots may increase the baseball fan experience, but our findings shed doubt on their ability to change outcomes.

Our findings suggest, though admittedly do not prove, that home-field advantage may be caused by other factors. These include rule advantages that allow the home team to bat last (as reported by Simon and Simonoff) and to pitch first (as reported by Smith), the familiarity players have with the unique features of their home parks, or the comforts associated with being at home (e.g. having family nearby, sleeping in one’s own bed, etc.). While we report that home teams performed no better or worse when hosting opponents traveling from further distances or returning from a road trip, the simple idea of “being home” may be more powerful than once believed.

While our study may deflate the egos of fans, it does provide a reassuring perspective about the quality of MLB play. Players and umpires are trained professionals who are extremely skilled at their jobs. They have only reached the highest level of their profession because they are able to excel under adverse conditions and they have thousands of hours of practice doing so. The fact that fans can expect such consistent quality of competition should give hometown rooters something to cheer about, even if those cheers do not matter.

Because our findings contradict the conventional wisdom and some previous research, we expect and encourage reinterpretation and revision of our work. For example, with additional time and access to data, it would be possible to replicate the aforementioned PITCHf/x studies conducted by Moskowitz and Wertheim (2011) and Chen, Moskowitz, and Shue (2016) for the 2020 MLB season. This would help provide additional evidence to support or reject their conclusions regarding the importance of social pressure on high-leverage ball-strike calls. Similarly, it would be interesting to investigate the decibel-levels and intensity of artificially produced crowd noises used by some MLB teams in 2020 in their home stadiums. This, however, would require access to proprietary information from the teams that will probably not be forthcoming.

Finally, it is possible that 2020 was simply unique and that games played under similar conditions in later years would not produce the same results. One could argue, for example, that the burdens associated with travel in 2020 were unusually great, perhaps creating additional challenges for road teams. Given that MLB teams travel on private planes and bus charters, we are a bit skeptical of this explanation. It remains possible, however, that other features of the COVID-19-modified season — stress, family concerns, the late start of competitive games — affected players in ways that are unlikely to recur in future years. 

J. FURMAN DANIEL III is an Associate Professor in the College of Security and Intelligence at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University. He is the editor of 21st Century Patton: Leadership Lessons for the Modern Era, a co-author of The First Space War: How Patterns of History and Principles of STEM Will Shape Its Form, and author of Patton: Battling with History. He lives in Prescott, Arizona.

ELLIOTT FULLMER is an Associate Professor of American Politics at Randolph-Macon College. He is the author of Tuesday’s Gone: America’s Early Voting Revolution, as well as numerous scholarly articles on U.S. elections and voting behavior. He is an avid Philadelphia Phillies fan, and is proud to have watched MLB games at 36 different ballparks. He lives in Richmond, Virginia.

Sources

Armatas, V., & Pollard, R. (2013). Home advantage in Greek football. European Journal of Sport Science, 14, 116–22.

Baldwin, B. (2020). Inside the numbers: How empty stands affect home-field advantage? The Athletic, posted online Aug 25.

Balmer, N.J., Nevill, A.M., and Williams, A.M. (2003). Modelling home advantage in the Summer Olympic Games. Journal of Sports Sciences, 21, 469–78.

Barry, D. (1995). Dave Barry’s Complete Guide to Guys, New York: Random House.

Boyko, R., Boyko, A., and Boyko, M. (2007). Referee bias contributes to home advantage in English Premiership football. Journal of Sports Sciences, 25, 1185–94.

Carré, J., Muir, C., Belanger, J., and Putnam, S. K. (2006). Pre-competition hormonal and psychological levels of elite hockey players: Relationship to the “home advantage.” Physiology and Behavior, 89, 392–98.

Carron, A. V., Loughead, T. M., and Bray, S. R. (2005). The home advantage in sport competitions: Courneya and Carron’s (1992) conceptual framework a decade later. Journal of Sports Sciences, 23, 395–407.

Chen, D., Moskowitz, T., and Shue, K. (2016). Decision making under the gambler’s fallacy: Evidence from asylum judges, loan officers, and baseball umpires. The Quarterly Journal of Economics, 131, 1181–242.

Courneya, K. S., and Carron, A. V. (1992). The home advantage in sport competitions: A literature review. Journal of Sport and Exercise Psychology, 14, 13–27.

Downward, P., and Jones, M. (2007). Effects of crowd size on referee decisions: Analysis of the FA Cup. Journal of Sports Sciences, 25, 1541–45.

Goumas C. (2013). Home advantage and crowd size in soccer: A worldwide study. Journal of Sport Behavior, 36, 387–99.

Goumas, C. (2014). How does crowd support contribute to home advantage in soccer? Journal of Sport Behavior, 37, 236–50.

Keri, J. (2011). The Extra 2%: How wall street strategies took a major league baseball teams from worst to first. New York: Ballantine Books.

Jones, M. V., Bray, S. R., and Olivier, S. (2005). Game location and aggression in rugby league. Journal of Sports Sciences, 23, 387–93.

Judge, J. (2020). Strike Zones in the Age of COVID-19. Baseball Prospectus, posted online, September 21.

Lewis, M. (2003). Moneyball: the art of winning an unfair game. New York: W.W. Norton.

Moore, J. (2015). “The Washington Nationals try to psych out their opponents with bad music.” GQ, posted online, April 15.

Moskowitz, T., & Wertheim, L.J. (2011). Scorecasting: the hidden influences behind how sports are played and games are won. New York: Crown Publishing Group.

Neave, N., & Wolfson, S. (2003). Testosterone, territoriality, and the “home advantage.” Physiology and Behavior, 78, 269–75.

Nevill, A., Balmer, N.J., and Williams, M. (2002). The influence of crowd noise and experience on refereeing decisions in football. Psychology of Sport and Exercise, 3, 261–72.

Pettersson-Lidbom, P., and Priks, M. (2010). Behavior under social pressure: Empty Italian stadiums and referee bias. Economics Letters, 108, 212–14.

Ranking all 30 MLB Ballparks. (2019). NBC Sports Washington, posted online July 9.

Recht, L. D., Lew, R. A., and Schwartz, W. J. (1995). Baseball teams beaten by jet lag. Nature, 377, 583.

Sawchik, T. (2015). Big data baseball: math, miracles, and the end of a 20-year losing streak. New York: Flatiron Books.

Schwartz, B., and Barsky, S. F. (1977). The home advantage. Social Forces, 55, 641–61.

Shanks, B. (2005). Scout’s Honor: The Bravest Way to Build a Winning Team. New York: Sterling and Ross Publishers.

Simon, G., and Simonoff. J. (2006). “Last Licks:” Do they Really Help? The American Statistician, 60, 13–18.

Smith, D. W. (2015). Home Team Scoring Advantage in the First Inning Largely Due to Time. Presented at the annual convention of the Society for American Baseball Research, June 24–28, 2015.

Sports Reference LLC. Baseball-Reference.com – Major League Statistics and Information. https://www.baseball-reference.com. Sept. 15, 2020.

Thayer, E. L. (1888). Casey at the Bat. The Daily Examiner, June 3.

Thirer, J., and Rampey, N. (1979). Effects of abusive spectator behavior on the performance of home and visiting intercollegiate basketball teams. Perceptual and Motor Skills, 48, 1047–53.

Unkelbach, C., and Memmert, D. (2010). Crowd noise as a cue in referee decisions contributes to the home advantage. Journal of Sport & Exercise Psychology, 32, 483–98.

Van de Ven, N. (2011). Supporters are not necessary for the home advantage: Evidence from same-stadium derbies and games without an audience. Journal of Applied Social Psychology, 41, 2785–92.

Notes

  1. Home-field advantage is highest in the NBA (60.5%), followed by the NFL (57.3%), the NHL (55.7%) and, finally, MLB (53.9%).

  2. For a self-critical but illustrative example of how fans can believe that they have a direct impact on the outcome of games, see: Dave Barry’s Complete Guide to Guys (1995), 181–83.

  3. For excellent narrative accounts of how baseball teams were particularly resistant to data analytics, see: Michael Lewis’s Moneyball (2003), Jonah Keri’s The Extra 2% (2011), and Travis Sawchik’s Big Data Baseball (2015). For a somewhat contrarian account of how one franchise, the Atlanta Braves, found success by matching traditional scouting approaches with analytical principles, see: Bill Shanks’ Scout’s Honor: The Bravest Way to Build a Winning Team (2005).

  4. Some, such as Armatas and Pollard (2013), have found that crowd density (i.e. the share of a stadium that is full) is most important, while Goumas (2014) reports that total crowd size has the largest effect on home-field advantage.

  5. In contrast, the effect of crowd noise appears to be less in sports without judgment calls, such as weightlifting and short-track speed skating (Balmer, Nevill, and Williams, 2003).

  6. The one exception to this was the 2020 Bundesliga games, which showed no significant home-field advantage for games played without fans. For extensive data on the European Soccer Leagues, see: https://github.com/lbenz730/soccer_hfa.

  7. One study (Judge, 2020), applying PitchInfo data from Baseball Prospectus, reported that the strike zone did not appear to advantage home teams more in the first two weeks of the 2020 MLB season when compared to the 2019 season.

  8. MLB ballpark capacity data is provided by NBC Sports Washington (2019).

  9. Our full data set is available upon email request.

10. Interestingly, in 2015, the Washington Nationals admitted to playing sad songs during visiting teams’ batting practices in order gain an advantage. See: Moore, J. (2015). “The Washington Nationals try to psych out their opponents with bad music.” GQ, posted online April 15.

The practice of using jersey numbers, which was in use among dozens of prominent college football programs as early as 1914, had a slow evolution in baseball. In 1916, the Cleveland Indians temporarily added numbers to players’ left sleeves during the second half of the regular season. The following year, the Indians tried moving the numbers to the players’ right sleeves. A brief wire service blurb dated March 29, 1917, reported that the Boston Red Sox and the Brooklyn Dodgers played a spring training exhibition game in Memphis, Tennessee, where both teams sported numbers on their players’ sleeves. However, these experiments proved to be nothing more than a passing fad.

Sportswriter Tommy Rice, who covered the major leagues for The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, was an early advocate pushing the big league clubs to number their players. As early as the offseason of 1922–23, Rice’s almost constant lobbying succeeded in getting the eight National League club owners to take up the matter at their annual Winter meetings. Though ultimately little came of the discussion, Rice would continue to beat the drum, and other baseball writers — notably Stoney McLinn and later syndicated columnist Billy Evans of The Philadelphia Ledger1 — would consistently make the point in print that the fans deserved a better and more expedient way of identifying both the home and visiting players.

At least one other major league club thought the issue worth pursuing; the 1923 St. Louis Cardinals featured numbers on the players’ left sleeves. It would prove to be a one-year dalliance and nothing further was seen of uniform numbers at the major league level for another six seasons. The practice of numbering players in the major leagues would not be adopted permanently until the 1929 New York Yankees and Cleveland Indians. It would take until 1931 for all eight American League clubs to follow suit, and the National League wouldn’t catch up until the middle of the 1932 season.

This period of seeming indifference on the part of major league club owners prior to 1929 left the door wide open for others to step in. The result was that the minor league club owners pioneered uniform numbers, as they did many of the game’s most fan-friendly customs (including bat day and the “knothole gang”). Recent research has uncovered significant photographic proof of minor league clubs adding uniform numbers to player jerseys several years prior to 1929. For example, we know that the Atlanta Crackers of the Southern Association began numbering their players in 1926. A vintage wire photo of the Crackers’ Leo Durocher, his back turned towards the photographers’ camera, has been seen (but not yet acquired) by the author. What is unknown as of the writing of this article is whether the other seven Southern Association teams followed suit, or was this simply a case of Atlanta going it alone?

Sportswriters in The Sporting News — and other wire service reports of the day — generally credit the teams of the American Association (AA) with debuting player uniform numbers at the start of the 1925 season. In fact, the December 11, 1924, issue of the “Bible of Baseball” contained the following note: “At a special meeting of the American Association owners, held in Hartford, just before the magnates left, it was decided by unanimous vote that all players be numbered on the field during the coming season. The players will wear the numbers on the sleeves of their shirts, which will correspond to the numbers on the program. The numbers are to be six inches high so they will be easily discerned from the stands.” League president Thomas J. Hickey was quoted as saying, “The numbering system has become almost general with football teams and I see no reason why it should not help the baseball fan.”2

A photo of pitcher Curt Fullerton of the St. Paul Saints clearly shows the results of the league-wide edict in the American Association (see Figure 1). Fullerton originally began the 1925 season in Boston as a member of the Red Sox staff. His first four years in Boston had produced a combined 10–32 record and, when he gave up a total of 11 runs in his first 22-plus innings of work in 1925, the Red Sox shipped him to the Saints in early May, where he spent the remainder of the season. The wire photo of Fullerton shows him wearing the number two (2) on his left sleeve. The back of the photo is date-stamped May 25, 1925.

But were the eight teams of the 1925 American Association really the first minor league clubs (at any level) to begin numbering their players?

The author has uncovered proof of at least two other minor league ball clubs far to the south of St. Paul adding uniform numbers to their players’ jerseys. The first was the Fort Smith (Arkansas) Twins of the Class C Western Association. Slugging first baseman Jimmy Hudgens (who spent parts of the 1923–1925 seasons with Fort Smith) is shown in Figure 2 boldly wearing a rather large number 22 on his left sleeve.

Hudgens had a career season for Fort Smith in 1925, leading the league in several key offensive categories. He batted .389 with 63 doubles and produced 168 RBIs over a 150-game schedule. As a result, Fort Smith won 94 games and the league title. Hudgens’s reward was a promotion to the Cincinnati Reds, who brought him to the majors for the final two weeks of the regular season. There is no date (stamped or written) on the reverse of the Hudgens photo, leaving open the possibility that Fort Smith actually donned uniform numbers prior to the 1925 season.

We also have proof that the Bloomington (Illinois) Bloomers of the Class B Three I League numbered their players in 1925. Pitcher Herman John Schwartje spent the 1925 season with Bloomington, where he compiled an 18–10 record for a team that won only 56 games and finished nearly 30 games out of first place. He is shown in Figure 3 as a member of the Bloomers wearing number 15 on his left sleeve. A career minor leaguer, Schwartje spent parts of 15 seasons toiling in the low minors, where he twice won at least 22 games. (After he did it a second time in 1922 — winning 23 games for Class B Saginaw — he was promoted to Class AA Rochester of the International League the following season. It would prove the pinnacle of his pro career.)

The final photo accompanying this article is that of outfielder Ike Boone. In Figure 4, Boone is shown wearing the uniform of the San Antonio Bears (Class B Texas League) with a large number five (5) on the left sleeve. The most important thing about this photo is that Ike Boone’s only season with San Antonio was 1923. He played for Little Rock in 1922 and when he tore up the Texas League in 1923 (hitting .402 and leading the league in hits, doubles, triples and RBIs), his performance for the Bears would get him promoted to the majors to join the Boston Red Sox for the final 10 days of the regular season. Boone would spend the entire 1924 and 1925 seasons with the Red Sox.

Thus, we now have definitive proof establishing that at least one minor league team wore uniform numbers as early as the 1923 season, a full two years prior to the American Association’s league-wide adoption of the same custom. Could there possibly be other minor league teams that also jump-started the custom a year (or more) in advance of San Antonio in 1923? I invite any interested SABR members to contact me with any information which might shed light on this topic.

MARK STANG is the author of nine books on major league baseball, including Baseball By The Numbers (Scarecrow Press, 1996), the definitive guide to major league uniform numbers. He can be reached at: markmstang@comcast.net.

Notes

1. The Philadelphia Evening Ledger: Jan. 13, 1923; Feb. 15, 1923 and April 13, 1923; “Billy Evans Says” syndicated column; Oct. 9, 1925.

2. The Sporting News, December 11, 1924.