Record crowds turned out in both major leagues for traditional holiday doubleheaders. In the National, the pennant-bound Pirates, riding an 11-game winning streak, hosted the second-place Chicago Cubs in a morning-afternoon pair which attracted a record 60,000 spectators to Forbes Field. In the opening contest the fans were treated to a bit of baseball history from an unexpected source. While both lineups were studded with future Hall of Famers, it was the Cubs’ Jimmy Cooney, a journeyman shortstop, who captured the day’s headlines by turning an unassisted triple play.

As he approached his ninetieth birthday, the former infielder recalled the events which earned him a permanent place in baseball’s book of records. The Pirates were leading, 5-4, in the fourth inning and had runners on first and second with no one out. “Our pitcher, Tony Kaufmann, was trying to pitch outside to Paul Waner, a pull hitter,” Cooney explained. “I was holding Lloyd Waner on second. He was very fast. Kaufmann got one a little too far in and Waner whacked it over his (Kaufmann’s) head. I took a run over and stabbed it one-handed and stepped on second. The guy on first (Clyde Barnhart) thought it was a hit over the pitcher’s head and came sliding into me.”

Jimmy’s quick action shut off the Pirates’ rally and paved the way for an eventual ten-inning, 7-6 Chicago victory.

“Joe McCarthy was our manager,” Jimmy added. “He came running out on the field to shake my hand.”

The play was the sixth of its kind performed in the major leagues up to that point. Incredibly, the seventh occurred the next day in Detroit, where the Tigers’ first baseman, Johnny Neun, duplicated the feat against the Indians. Forty-one years would pass before another unassisted triple play would be seen in the majors.

Although Cooney spent just seven years in the big leagues, most of them partial seasons, he was involved in a number of unusual plays. While playing for the St. Louis Cardinals in 1925, he was the second victim in an unassisted triple play by shortstop Glenn Wright of the Pirates. Jimmy thus holds the distinction of being the only man in major league history to be involved in two of these fielding gems.

A year earlier, in a game against the Phillies, the Cards were down by four runs when the Phils placed their first two batters on base to open the second inning. Bill Sherdel, known as “Wee Willie,” was summoned from the bullpen.

With the Cardinal infield drawn in anticipating a bunt, pinch-hitter Johnny Mokan popped Sherdel’s first offering to the right side. Jim Bottomley, the first baseman, grabbed the ball out of the air and whipped it down to second to Cooney, who relayed it back to Rogers Hornsby covering first to complete a triple killing.

“One ball pitched and three outs,” Jimmy remarked. “I don’t think that’s happened very often.” As for Sherdel, “he was as cocky as a little bantam rooster after that,” according to Jimmy.

To spend an afternoon with Jimmy Cooney is to drift back in time with the most experienced of guides. Scrapbooks bulging with photos and clippings serve as catalysts for a string of delightful reminiscences by the old shortstop, who turns a tale as skillfully as he once turned double plays.

A lifelong resident of Rhode Island, Jimmy was born on August 24, 1894 in Cranston, a manufacturing city next door to Providence. Around those parts the name Cooney long has been synonymous with baseball. His father, Jimmy Cooney, Sr., played professional ball for 13 years, including three seasons in the National League with Chicago and Washington during the 1890s. As the regular shortstop for Cap Anson’s club in 1890-91 the elder Cooney was the top fielder at his position for two consecutive seasons.

Jimmy’s younger brother, Johnny, pitched and later played the outfield for the Boston Braves and Brooklyn Dodgers for 20 years between 1921 and 1944. In keeping with family tradition, Johnny led National League flychasers in fielding in 1936 and 1941. In the latter year, at age 40, Johnny Cooney was runner up to Pete Reiser in the league batting race.

Two other brothers, Harry and Frank, were outstanding semi-pro players. Harry also put in four years with Portland and Worcester of the New England League. At one time an entire team of Cooneys, the four brothers along with several uncles and cousins, performed as a unit against local amateur teams.

An interesting footnote to Jimmy’s career is that both he and his father played shortstop for the major league Cubs and minor league Providence Grays a generation apart.

Jimmy, Sr., passed away at the age of 37, but his influence was felt by his four sons. “My father was the reason we all liked baseball. My brothers and I practiced in the street in front of our house. We broke a few windows, too,” Jimmy recalled with a laugh.

Jimmy’s baseball odyssey began as an 18-year-old in the summer of 1913 when he left the semi-pro ranks to sign with Worcester. His professional debut saw him hit an even .300 in 73 games. This performance was rewarded by his sale to the Boston Red Sox for 1914. The Cranston teenager made the jump from sandlot to the majors in less than five months.

However, a long apprenticeship in the minors, interrupted by military duty during World War I, was to be served before he gained a foothold in the Big Time.

After brief looks by the Red Sox in 1917 and the New York Giants two years later, Jimmy was picked up by the Cardinals in 1924 on the recommendation of their manager, Branch Rickey.

Coming off four outstanding seasons with Milwaukee (American Association), the well-seasoned Cooney responded by hitting .295 in 110 games and led N.L. shortstops in fielding with a mark of .969, then a record.

Although be performed capably for the Cards, he was benched in favor of Tommy Thevenow in 1925. The next year he went to the Cubs, where he teamed with second baseman Sparky Adams to lead the league in double plays. Once again he was the league’s top fielding shortstop and tied Travis Jackson for fewest errors, committing just 24 in 141 games.

Nevertheless, Jimmy faced competition for his job in 1927, this time from Chicago’s high-priced rookie Woody English. Less than a month after his unaided triple play in Pittsburgh, Jimmy was traded to the Phillies. The move from a contender to the cellar did not please the veteran, but he went about his work in typical fashion, capturing his third fielding crown in four years.

An off-season deal sent him back to Boston, where he joined kid brother Johnny with the Braves. The family reunion was shortlived, however. After 18 games Jimmy’s big league days ended with his sale to Buffalo in June, 1928.

At Buffalo Jimmy wore the hats of player, team captain and finally manager. A season of barnstorming along the western seaboard with a group of players knocked out of work by the depression put the cap on Jimmy’s two decades in professional baseball.

Returning to Rhode Island that fall with his wife and two sons, Jimmy went to work for a printing concern. He kept his hand in the game by managing the company team in industrial league play. He also put in 30 years as a reserve patrolman with the Cranston police force.

Having been close to baseball as both participant and spectator for more than 70 years, Jimmy offered some thoughts on the game. “I think it was tougher back then,” he said. “There were more fights. The pitchers would throw at you all the time. Of course, we had no helmets. You got used to it.” He spoke of one well-known hurler who “. . . threw the first ball at your head every time he pitched. It didn’t matter who you were, Hornsby or Cooney.”

One of his greatest thrills came during his short stay in the American League when he faced the immortal Walter Johnson. He recalled the advice offered by his colleagues that day. “Some of the older fellows on the bench told me to start swinging on my way up to the plate,” he related.

“That’s how fast he (Johnson) was! But I was lucky. I got a single off him and a double later.”

Because he played during baseball’s financial “Dark Ages,” his top major league salary was $5,500. “The player who got seven or eight thousand was a rich man. If you got $5,000, you were doing all right,” he said.

Jimmy was managing Buffalo when night baseball made its International League debut in the early 1930s. His best pitcher under the lights was Dave Danforth, a former big leaguer who practiced dentistry during the off-season. Jimmy revealed that Danforth’s strong hands enabled him to raise the seams on a new ball, thereby adding a devastating hop to his fastball. He baffled hitters at twilight, but according to his manager, “He couldn’t get anybody out in the daytime!”

Cooney spent the winter of 1924-1925 in Cuba playing for Marianao. Among his teammates on the island were fellow Americans Jess Petty, Freddie Fitzsimmons and Charlie Dressen and legendary black slugger Christobal Torrienti. Jimmy’s exciting brand of play earned him the nickname “Torpedo.” “I hit .390 down there,” he said. “Maybe I should have stayed there!”

Jimmy played for, with and against some of the greatest players in history. The stories generated by these characters would fill volumes: Hornsby reading a racing form during Rickey’s pre-game meetings; spring training with the Cubs on Catalina Island, where Charley Grimm entertained with his banjo; Joe McCarthy demonstrating the evils of drink to Hack Wilson with a worm and a glass of whiskey; Jimmy’s antics one day in Brooklyn when he continued around the bases after being forced at second, causing an uproar as the harried Dodgers chased him into the visitors’ dugout in an attempt to retire him again; keeping his thirsty Buffalo players in tow during trips to Montreal in Prohibition days.

Jimmy’s stay in the majors was short despite some impressive seasons in the minors. He set an American Association record for assists one season and tied another record with 22 consecutive errorless games. In 1923 he made 12 straight hits in one streak while leading the league with 60 steals.

A number of teams, among others the Dodgers, A’s and Reds, expressed interest in the fielding wizard, but the Milwaukee management demanded $40,000 for his services, a considerable sum for the time. The steep price attests to Jimmy’s worth but probably impeded his return to the majors. He was nearly 30 when he finally secured a regular job with St. Louis. From then on the calendar worked against him.

There is no hint of regret, however, for all the time and effort expended in pursuit of his vocation. “It was a lot easier than working in a mill, playing baseball out in the sunshine,” he said.

Jimmy’s life in and out of baseball has been full and rich. In recent years he has kept busy tending his home on Pettaquamscutt Lake in Saunderstown, R.I. Frequent visits and calls from children, grandchildren and great grand-children keep him smiling. The daily mail usually brings letters from fans around the country. While he no longer attends games in person, Jimmy follows the Red Sox and Boston Celtics closely on television.

He is remembered as one of eight men to make an unassisted triple play, but it should also be known that Jimmy Cooney was a versatile, dependable player highly respected by his peers for the grace with which he consistently made the difficult seem routine.

He made his mark with his glove, setting a season record that was the major league standard for a number of years. He still shares the National League record for double plays started by a shortstop in one game – four, accomplished in 1926. For one whose hitting was always suspect, he compiled a respectable .262 average for his 448 big league games.

The world has been turned upside-down since a teenager from Cranston, R.I., rode a trolley to his first professional baseball job, but the flavor of those distant times has remained alive and well within the memory of James Edward Cooney.

The purpose of this paper is to look at combinations of statistics rather than just individual statistics. We will not be doing any detailed analysis to speak of, just looking at the statistics because they are fun. Before we go any further, a big tip of the cap to Lee Sinins, creator of the Sabermetric Baseball Encyclopedia, without which this paper would not be possible. Some statistics are from baseball-reference.com.

HIGH BATTING AVERAGE, LOW WALKS

Since we mentioned on-base percentage above, we will start off with players with more than 600 at-bats in a season who hit .300 or higher but had less than 20 walks. The batting average would be considered good, but the lack of walks could make the player less valuable than someone batting .270 with a more discerning batting eye. Through the 2003 season, there have only been five players with such seasons. One did it twice.

Interestingly, over half of these occurrences are before the 1970s and all of them are before the 1980s, when players have often become criticized for being free swingers lacking discipline. One thing that is no surprise; most of these seasons came when the player was very young or in his first year as a regular player.

LOTS OF EACH KIND OF EXTRA-BASE HIT

In all of baseball history, only five players have had at least 20 doubles, 20 triples, and 20 home runs in the same season. No player did it more than once. These are George Brett, Jim Bottomley, Wildfire Schulte, Jeff Heath, and the greatest all-around baseball player of all time, Willie Mays.

Not surprisingly, all five were relatively young at the time. Also not surprisingly, Willie Mays had the most home runs of the five.

This achievement is somewhat notable because one might presume that a player who hit over 20 home runs would often have outfielders playing fairly deeply, minimizing the chances of hitting a triple.

Two other players, Ryne Sandberg and Buck Freeman, came close to joining this esteemed group, with Freeman having what is probably the oddest set of numbers of this group of players.

A few other players have done things similar to what Freeman did. Here are the players with less than 20 doubles and home runs, but at least 20 triples.

Special note should be taken that Visner and Fields were teammates. Also, note that Cooley did not have even 10 doubles or home runs. Davis had 40 extra-base hits and 70% of them were triples. Not surprisingly, none of these are recent, with Mitchell the only one occurring in the past 80 years.

LOTS OF RBI AND FEW RUNS

Sometimes players, typically leadoff hitters, may score a lot of runs but not knock in many. An example of this would be 21-year-old Lloyd Waner, scoring 133 runs while knocking in only 27 for the 1927 Pirates. Usually, if a player knocks in a lot of runs, then he is likely to score a lot of runs as well. Three players in baseball history have finished a season with more than 100 RBI and fewer than 60 runs scored.

These would certainly be cases of players doing a lot but not getting a lot of help from teammates. Though I do not know it, I would suspect these batters probably batted sixth for teams with weak bottoms of the order.

LOTS OF RBI AND NO HOME RUNS

Most of the time the people with a lot of runs batted in also have a large number of home runs. Several players have managed to have a lot of RBI yet not many home runs. The kings of this category are Hughie Jennings and Lave Cross.

Five other players managed to knock in over 100 runs while hitting only one home run.

Vaughn deserves special mention since he was the only one of these seven to bat under .300. He hit only .280 on 135 hits yet still managed over 100 RBI. At the other end of that spectrum was Jennings, who batted .401 in 1896. Another interesting note is that Jennings and Doyle were teammates.

LOTS OF HOME RUNS AND FEW RBI

Turning our previous category around, let us now consider players who hit a lot of home runs but had comparatively few runs batted in. The following are the only players to have hit 40 or more home runs while knocking in fewer than 100 runs.

A couple of comments should be made about this list.

It should immediately be noted that, if not for the strike that ended the season early in 1994, Griffey and Williams would probably not be on the list. No team played more than 117 games that season.

Notice also that 1973 was the only year that Davey Johnson hit even 20 home runs. Petrocelli never topped 30 again and bested 20 only two other times.

Also, notice that Johnson and Aaron were teammates. This may give some indication of why these players are on the list. If a team has a lot of players hitting home runs, there are less likely to be men on base for others who hit home runs. In 1973, Johnson and Aaron were joined by Darrell Evans in hitting 40 or more home runs. Evans, though on this list for 1985, knocked in 104 runs in 1973. Notice that, in most cases, these players were teammates of other sluggers, minimizing RBI chances.

LOTS OF HOME RUNS BUT FEW DOUBLES

It is not unusual that players who hit a lot of home runs will also have a lot of doubles. Todd Helton and Albert Belle are good examples of this. Five players turned the unusual trick of having 50 or more home runs but less than 20 doubles.

Notable is the presence of a pair of teammates. Mantle and Maris shared more than their home run race in 1961.

It would be expected that these players would possibly be a little older, but Thome is the only one who was even 30 when he accomplished the feat. Most surprising of all would have to be Willie Mays. In 1955, Mays had 24 stolen bases (just one behind the league leader) and 13 triples (tied for the league lead). He was very fast but for some reason had only 18 doubles.

Mantle is the only other player among these who was ever noted for his speed, but by 1961 he was beginning to have problems with his knees.

Let us turn now to a few pitching statistics.

LOTS OF LOSSES BUT LOW ERA

Typically, a pitcher with an ERA below 2.00 is not going to lose a lot of ball games. Surprisingly, 15 times there have been pitchers with ERAs below 2.00 who lost 20 or more games.

Noteworthy is Will White’s repetition on the list. Notice also the presence of some fairly outstanding pitchers, particularly Pud Galvin, Ed Walsh, and Walter Johnson.

Certainly there is no surprise that these are all from a long time ago. Back in those days pitchers would start 50 or 60 games a season, not once every five or six days. This explains why a number of these pitchers won a substantial percentage of their games despite the 20+ losses. It is also back in the days when fielders’ gloves were poor or nonexistent. A pitcher might allow 10 or 12 runs with only one or two earned. Still, remark- able in all this is the 1.27 ERA that Ed Walsh had in 1910 and that he still finished below .500. Of course, it did not help that the White Sox had a team batting average of .211 that year.

LOTS OF WINS AND HIGH ERA

The obvious counterpart to the previous list is pitchers with 20 or more wins but ERAs over 5.00. A pitcher would have to be good to keep losing games yet keep being handed the ball. But when a pitcher’s ERA is over 5.00, he is not likely to stay in the rotation very long if the manager has any other choice. Neither is he likely to win a whole lot of games. Not surprisingly, there are not many on this list.

Something unsurprising is that both pitchers were veterans, making their managers more likely to put up with the high ERA. Also, both earned some consideration since they did somehow manage to win more of their games than they lost. Kremer, remarkably, had a winning percentage of .625.

Also, keep in mind that 1930 was one of the years of incredible offensive production. That was the year of Hack Wilson’s 56 HRs and many other huge numbers. The Pirates had a team batting average of .303, helping to explain Kremer’s success.

In 1938, while the Browns did have a team batting average of .281, they finished with a record of 55-97. Apparently there weren’t a whole lot of options other than Newsom.

LOTS OF WINS AND SAVES

We will conclude with our only career statistic consideration. This one is basically in honor of Dennis Eckersley on the occasion of his election to the National Baseball Hall of Fame. “Eck” is the only pitcher in history to have more than 150 wins and saves. However, if John Smoltz continues pitching out of the bullpen with the success he has had recently, he will join Eckersley in either 2004 or 2005. Fifteen players have had at least 100 of each.

Sparky Lyle finished his career with 238 saves and 99 wins, just missing being included on our list.

Each pitcher won 13 or more games at least once. All except for Fingers, Miller, Kline, and Gossage won 15 at least once. All except for Reed had at least 20 saves at least once. Marberry is the only other who didn’t record at least 27 at least once.

John Smoltz is the only one on the list with more than half of his appearances as a starter. Considering his age, it is possible that will stay that way. Another point about Smoltz is that, thus far, there are only three seasons in which he has recorded a save, and one of those he had only 10.

One thing that this chart illustrates is the differing role of “closers” over the years. Commenting on Eckersley’s Hall of Fame election, Rollie Fingers talked about the changes during his career. Closers used to pitch two or three innings in a game. Now they typically pitch one inning. Starters used to finish large percentages of their games; now their job is to get through six or seven innings effectively. That would explain the comparatively high number of wins compared to saves for Wilhelm, McDaniel, Fingers, and Marberry.

CONCLUSION

Obviously there are many more comparisons that could be considered. These are just a few of the ones.

1. Cooney, Boston, .319
2. Mize, St. Louis, .318
3. Hack, Chicago, .317
4. Gleeson, Chicago, .316
5. Lombardi, Cincinnati, .316

This list contained several familiar names. Stan Hack was a solid .300 hitter. Ernie Lombardi led the league in 1938, and Johnny Mize, the 1939 batting leader was not only one hit away from the lead in average, but with 41 home runs and 120 runs batted in he was positioned to win the Triple Crown. Mize’s hope to achieve the Triple Crown and the others’ chances to win the batting title would be dashed the next day by the appearance of Pittsburgh Pirate third baseman-outfielder Debs Garms at the top of the list with a lead of more than 60 points.2 Except for the fact that Garms is the answer to a few trivia questions such as “Who broke up Johnny Vander Meer’s string of hitless innings?” or “Who won the 1940 National League batting title?” his name today is fairly obscure to all but a few baseball historians.

There are several reasons for his anonymity. Garms was a journeyman ballplayer in an era sporting the likes of Foxx, Musial, and Ruth. He never made an All-Star team or exhibited the charisma of players like Dean or Reiser. Despite a seemingly undistinguished reputation, however, teams always sought him for the attitude and hustle he brought to their roster. Of the teams Garms played for, his most notable years were with the Pitts­ burgh Pirates, where in 1940 he won the batting title.

The Pirates purchased Garms from the Boston Bees in 1940 as they attempted to rebuild their team after finishing sixth, a finish that cost manager Pie Traynor his job. 3 Frankie Frisch, hired to replace Traynor, inherited a team with poor morale, a team still fixated on the effects of losing the pennant during the last week of the 193 8 season.

Frisch, who had managed the Gashouse Gang St. Louis Cardinals to the world championship in 1934, was an intense individual who hated the thought of losing and was considered an ideal hire to improve the Pirates’ outlook. Prior to being hired by the Pirates, Frisch had broadcast games for the Boston Bees in 1939 and became particularly aware of the playing potential­ and attitude various Bees possessed.

Early in January, Charles “Chilly” Doyle, a baseball writer with the Pittsburgh Sun-Telegram, interviewed Frisch about the Pirates’ chances for 1940.4 Frisch made it clear that he wanted to redesign the team with an emphasis on fight and hustle. Left W1said was his suspi­cion that several Pirates, including Lloyd and Paul Waner, would have to improve their attitude or be replaced. Doyle noted that Frisch had made a few purchases from the Bees but was still looking to make other transactions to change the demeanor of the club. At the end of February, when spring training began, Frisch was still looking to make deals.

During the first week of March 1940, Garms drove his family from Texas to Bradenton, FL, for the Bees’ spring training. Upon arrival, he was informed the Pirates had purchased his contract. The Pirates were holding spring training in San Bernardino, CA, clear across the continent. After spending a few hours resting, Garms packed his family back in the car and drove them to Texas, subsequently boarding a train for California to join his new team.5

Frisch had been impressed by Garms while broadcast­ ing for the Bees and purchased his contract even though he did not have a particular spot in the lineup for Garms. Frisch told Doyle, “Garms will be available for infield and outfield duty. I like his style, especially his spirit.” 6 In a series of articles written during spring training Doyle noted the positive attitude Garms would bring to the Pirates through his competitive play.

Garms hustled through spring training and hit .472. He would later recall, “That whole year, [ 1940] the baseball looked as big as a grapefruit coming up to the plate.”7 Based on his hitting, Garms was named starting right fielder replacing Paul Waner. The future Hall of Famer’s diminishing skills at age 37, alleged drinking problems, and casual approach to preparing for the game irked Frisch.8 Waner never got back into the lineup on a regular basis, playing in just 89 games before being released the following December.

Subsequent assessments of Garms’ play during the 1940 season usually described him as a utility player, disregarding the fact that he had been a full-time player with the Bees. While Frisch experimented with various platoon options in the early stages of the 1940 season, Garms appeared in most of the early season games. Garms did go out of the lineup in early May, for the better part of two months, not because he was benched, but because of a knee injury he suffered in Boston.9 He returned to the lineup in a game against the Giants on June 16 and got three hits, only to reinjure his knee the next day in Boston for a second time. Occasionally pinch-hitting the next several weeks, his injury gradually healed, allowing him to begin playing on a regular basis starting July 20.

By then the Pirates were halfway through the season in sixth place with a record of 33-44. Frisch, discon­certed because of indifferent play, made several changes to the lineup, including the replacement of Lee Handley at third with Garms. Making the most of his opportunity that day, Garms had four hits to drive in five runs as the Pirates beat the Bees. Garms would be particularly effective against his former teammates that year, hitting .481, a performance based in part on how he was pitched to by the Bee staff.

Garms recalled in a conversation with his son that the Bees consistently pitched him low and away all season. He was mystified that they would continue pitching to his strength as an opposite-field hitter until he was approached one day by a Bee pitcher whom Garms had singled off the day before. He asked Garms the location of the pitch he had hit. Garms replied, “Low and away.” The pitcher then told him that Bees manager Casey Stengel had jumped on him for not pitching low and away. Why Stengel persisted in making pitchers work toward Garms’ strength seemed odd. Perhaps it was to prove a point. Stengel was apparently not happy that Bees general manager Bob Quinn had sold Garms to the Pirates in March. 10

Garms continued his hot hitting the next several weeks, hitting .400 for July, and raised his average up to .345 by the end of the month as the Pirates began climbing out of the second division. Little notice was made at the time that Garms’ average had passed that of Giants catcher Harry Danning, listed in newspapers as the league batting leader. At the beginning of August the Pirates dropped a doubleheader on August 1, then ran up an eight-game winning streak, moving into fourth place. Garms continued his hot pace, hitting .480 during this streak.

On August 21, Doyle noted that while Garms had the highest average in the league, he would have to amass 400 at-bats to win the title. It was the first time he was mentioned in connection with the batting race. At this point Frisch, thinking Garms needed 400 at-bats to qualify for the title, moved him up to leadoff in the batting order.

On August 31, Barna Rowell of the Bees was leading the league with a .328 average. Garms was hitting .369. Over the next several weeks Garms’ average continued to improve as the listed leaders’ average kept slipping. By September 11, Dixie Walker of the Dodgers led with a average with Garms at .384. Although the lead would change almost daily between Jimmy Gleeson, Johnny Cooney, Lombardi, and Walker, none of them could push their average above .320, which at that time was the lowest average to ever lead the National League.11 Observers of the game began to comment on the situation. Peter Hinkle, in a letter to the New York Times, observed:

The way the percentages of the leaders are running now it appears that the man who eventually succeeds in hitting .325 will win the title. Normally it takes a mark of .350 or better to win the individual batting champ­ ionship.12

In an interview appearing in the Washington Post on September 18, Dizzy Dean sounded off on various sub­ jects including the National League batting race. Dean pointed out that Johnny Cooney, “an old converted pitcher is right up there for the batting title with .31 7 whereas back in the old days Frankie Frisch or Jim Bottomley would hit .350 and finish sixth.” 13 The Sporting News also noted the low batting percentages, observing that Lombardi was leading the league with only a .319 average. “Not since 1919, when Edd Roush led with a .321 mark has the National League’s top batter turned in a figure as low as that owned by Ernie Lombardi…”14 Garms’ performance continued to contrast sharply with the low average leading the league. On the day Hinkle’s letter was written, Garms average reached a season-high .38 7. He was now 67 points ahead of Walker. Doyle’s arguments in August about Garms deserving the title had made little impression at the time. Now others were beginning to appreciate Doyle’s perspective. John Lardner wrote a column in the San Francisco Chronicle that argued Garms should be declared the champion. After noting that Walker was then leading the league at a .319 average Lardner asked, “So what would you say to a fellow in that same league, who is hitting .388? (sic)” Lardner extolled Garms’ accomplishments, arguing that a near 70-point advantage “is too much difference.” 15

When the Reds were in New York a few days later, their manager, Bill McKechnie, who had managed Garms as a Bee in 1937, was asked if Garms was as good as his av­erage reflected. While McKechnie observed Garms had not performed that well while playing for him, he con­ ceded that Garms’ high average “must account for something.” McKechnie then asked, “What’s this I hear about a batter having to be at bat 400 times to be eligible for the championship?” A reporter replied that this was erroneous. “That’s all wrong. I asked Ford Frick [presi­dent of the National League] about that and he said that so far as he knows that is an American League rule and has not been adopted by the National League.” 16

On September 16 the Times began to list Garms as the leader. Garms at .382 was 63 points ahead of Lombardi. These observations culminated with an announcement released by the National League on September 19 that all Garms had to do was play 100 games to win the title. Frick, formally confirming what he had told reporters a few days before, stated there were no rules governing qualifications for the title. “The batting title is simply unofficial and never has been subject for league legisla­tion.” The article goes on to note, “It is apparent the whole batting championship situation is in a state of con­ fusion and that Garms, with the only respectable average in the league, has a chance to be considered.”17 Bill Brandt, spokesperson for Frick said that while there were no rules governing qualifications, “he thought 100 games would be a sufficient prerequisite for the championship.”

At the time of this announcement 11 games remained on the schedule and Garms needed to play in only seven. In a rather prescient comment, another article mentioned, “His [Garms] mark is so much better than any of the others it doesn’ t make much difference whether he gets a hit or not.” 18 Virtually every comment on the subject noted the confusion about the requirement to attain 400 at-bats dated from the time the American League gave $500 to the batting leader based on a minimum of 400 at­ bats. Not only did league presidents, managers and sportswriters chime in, but fans added their comments on the subject as well. Another reader wrote to the New York Times stating Garms should be declared winner be­ cause he “will lead the batters by a wide margin.” 19

Frick’s opinion appeared in the news throughout the country on September 19. On the 21st Pittsburgh played the Reds. In the second game of a doubleheader, the Pirates filled the bases with two out in the bottom of the 10th inning. Garms came to bat and singled to drive in the winning run with his fifth hit of the game.

That game-winning blow was his last hit of the season as he went into a 0-for-23 slump. Garms ended the sea­ son playing 103 games with 127 hits in 358 at-bats finishing at .355, 36 points ahead of Lombardi and 38 points ahead of Chicago’s Stan Hack, who played in 149 games. Garms’ average also led the majors, as Yankee Joe DiMaggio led the American League with a .352 mark. Despite being considered a singles hitter, Garms finished sixth in the league with a .500 slugging average and struck out only six times the entire campaign to achieve a superlative ratio of one stiikeout per 60 at-bats. The Pirates finished the second half with a 45- 32 record, 78-76 overall to finish fourth.

While the season ended, controversy over Frick’s decision continued. Though The Sporting News sup­ ported Ganns as champion, it suggested qualifications for batting titles be made uniform throughout baseball. Specifically referring to Garms, they made note of the wide margin he enjoyed over his rivals despite being asked to play various positions.

The Sporting News editorial further noted, “There has never been a similar situation… when a player led the loop with such a high average and participated in a limited number of games…” This was not an accurate observation, as twice before batting titles were awarded to individuals with fewer at-bats than Garms. In 1926, Reds catcher Bubbles Hargrave was awarded the National League batting title despite having just 326 at-bats in 105 games, although his position as catcher probably worked in his favor in deciding whether he should be considered the leader. In 1914, Ty Cobb, who had been injured part of the year, was awarded the American League title de­ spite having 345 at-bats in 97 games. Given the level of Cobb’s sustained deeds over the years, there was little doubt he would have maintained his level of hitting over the full season. These instances were ignored in the con­troversy raised by Garms’ performance.

Most of the opposition to Frick’s decision centered on Garms not having the 400 at-bats required in the American League-that what was good for one league should be good for another. A good deal of the resentinent centered in Chicago, where Cub fans felt that Hack should have been declared champion based on his full-season perform­ance. Counter to that argument was an observation made by several, including columnist Bob Ray in the Los Angeles Times, that had Garms gone 0-for-42 and achieved the 400 at bats his “adjusted ” average at .318, still would have been one point higher than Hack.20

Under modern standards, which call for 3.1 plate appearances per game, Garms was 92 plate appearances short of the requirement. Based on this measurement Garms would have needed just 16 hits in 92 at-bats, a .174 average to beat Hack.

In retrospect, the controversy over Garms’ winning of the batting title was based on several factors. He was described as “coming out of nowhere ” or being “a surprise champion.” This is certainly justified by the man­ner in which he became eligible for consideration. Frick’s announcement came with only 10 days left in the season. A second factor was Garms himself. Although Garms’ prior performance with the Bees indicated he was a legit­imate .300 hitter, he had not solidified his reputation as a proven hitting star, as had batting title predecessors Johnny Mize, Ernie Lombardi, and Joe Medwick.

Garms also won because of peculiar circumstances that existed at the time. Observations of those familiar with the game were correct; batting averages were declining. The National League batting average for 1939 was .272. In 1940 it was .264. It would shrink further to .258 in 1941, and over the next 20 years would never rise above .266. This trend was reflected in the performance of top hitters. For the 1937-1939 seasons, 24 full-time players hit .320 or better. From 1940 to 1942 only one full-time player, Pete Reiser, hit over .320 (.343).

By mid-September 1940 no one in the National League was at .320, which from perspectives of the time were unsettling to those interested in the game. Contrasting sharply with this was Garms’ average then in the .380s range. The disparity between what was expected of a batting leader and what Garms was then hitting was too great to ignore.

One wonders whether Frick would have made the same ruling if Garms’ average was in the .320 -.330 range or if his hitting spree had occurred in the closing days of the season rather than early September. Garms’ early September performance may have been enhanced by his early season injuries. His past history suggested a declining performance the last month of the season. Perhaps the time he was out of the lineup early in the sea­ son may have delayed onset of the slump he experienced the last days of the season.

Controversy over Garms’ title did not immediately force a change in how batting championships were deter­mined. His title, however, proved a sign of things to come. Two years later Ernie Lombardi was awarded the National League title based on less playing time than Garms. Although his position as catcher probably helped in being considered for the title, it is worthy of note, the closest mark to Lombardi’s .330 leading average was Enos Slaughter’s .318. If Slaughter had been recognized as champion, his mark would have been the lowest to ever lead the National League up to that time. Rules for qualifications were subsequently changed, initially to 400 at-bats, then to the present-day requirement of 3.1 plate appearances per game.

When queried about his father’s attitude toward this controversy, David Garms related that he had an almost detached attitude about the matter. Aside from recalling that Frisch had moved Garms up to leadoff in the order to gain more at-bats the elder Garms said nothing about the controversy concerning his being awarded the championship. He seemed to be content to let others worry about the numbers while he concentrated on playing his game. Through it all, Garms was as calm as the center of a statistical hurricane, just hitting a ball that “looked as big as a grapefruit coming up to the plate.”

GREG ERION has a Master’s Degree in History from San Francisco State University and teaches history at Skyline College. He would like to thank David Garms, David W. Smith, Jules Tygiel and Mary Waters for their contributions to this article. Any errors are the author’s.

Notes

1. “Major League Leaders,” New York Times, September 15, 1941.
2. “Major League Leaders,” New York Times, September 16, 1941.
3. The Boston Braves were known as the Bees for the 1936-1940 seasons.
4. Charles J. Doyle, “Changes Already Made by F1isch Expected to Bolster Spirit,” The Sporting News, January 4, 1940.
5. Interviews with David Garms, August 29 & 30, 2006.
6. Charles J. Doyle, “Bue Nemesis Bought from Boston;’ Pittsburgh Sun-Telegram, March 4, 1940.
7. Pete Kendall, “Ex-Major Leaguer Debs Garms Dies in Glen Rose,” Cleburne Times-Review, December 17, 1984.
8. Parker, Clifton Big and Little Poison: Paul and Lloyd Waner, Baseball’s Brothers (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2003).
9. Charles J. Doyle, various articles, Pittsburgh, Sun-Telegram, June 19, July 5, 6, 21, 25, August 1, 1940.
10. Garms, August 29 & 30, 2006.
11. “Major League Leaders,” New York Times, September 1-16, 1941. Larry Doyle led the league at .320 in 1915 and Tony Gwynn would subsequently lead the National League in batting in 1988 with a .313 average.
12. Peter Hinkle letter, “Low 1940 Batting Averages,” New York Times, September 14, 1940.
    
13. “Just a Joke,’ Says Dizzy Dean of N.L.,” Washington Post, September 18, 1940.
14. “Batting Slump Hits Both Majors,” The Sporting News, September 20, 1940.
15. John Lardner, “Who’s L.’s best hitter? Read on and be surprised,” San Francisco Chronicle, September 14, 1940.
16. Harry Keck, “National League’s Times-at-Bat Myth Exploded by McKechnic’s Curiosity,” Pittsburg Sun-Telegram. September 21, 1940.
17. “Garms Given O.K. in Batting Race,” Washington Post, September 20, 1940.
18. “Hitting Crown: Garms May Beat Out Joe D’Mag,” San Francisco Chronicle, September 20, 1940.
19. Ernest A. Kerstein, “Rule Which Denies Honors to Garms ls Hit by Reader,” New York Times, September 16, 1941.
20. Bob Ray, “The Sports X-Ray,” Los Angeles Times, December 30, 1940.

There was a man on our block named Rooney Sullavan who would often come walking down the street while the kids would be playing ball in front of my house or Johnny McLaughlin’s house. He would always stop and ask if he’d ever shown us how he used to throw the knuckleball back when he pitched for Kankakee in 1930.

“Plenty of times, Rooney,” Billy Cunningham would say. “No knuckles about it, right?” Tommy Ryan would say. “No knuckles about it, right!” Rooney Sullavan would say. “Give it here and I’ll show you.” One of us would reluctantly toss Rooney the ball and we’d step up so he could demonstrate for the fortieth or fiftieth time how he held the ball by his fingertips only, no knuckles about it.

“Don’t know how it ever got the name knuckler,” Rooney’d say. “I call mine The Rooneyball.” Then he’d tell one of us—usually Billy because he had the catcher’s glove, the old fat-heeled kind that didn’t bend unless somebody stepped on it, a big black mitt that Billy’s dad had handed down to him from his days at Kankakee or Rock Island or some place—to get sixty feet away so Rooney could see if he could “still make it wrinkle.”

Billy would pace off twelve squares of sidewalk, each square being approximately five feet long, the length of one nine-year-old boy stretched head to toe, squat down and stick his big black glove out in front of his face. With his right hand he’d cover his crotch in case the pitch got away and short-hopped off the cement where he couldn’t block it with the mitt. The knuckleball was unpredictable; not even Rooney could tell what would happen to it once he let it go.

“It’s the air makes it hop,” Rooney claimed. His leather jacket creaked as he bent, wound up, rotated his right arm like nobody’d done since Chief Bender, crossed his runny grey eyes and released the ball from the tips of his fingers. We watched as it sailed straight up at first then sort of floated on an invisible wave before plunging the last ten feet like a balloon that had been pierced by a dart.

Billy always went down on his knees, the back of his right hand stiffened over his crotch, and stuck out his gloved hand at the slowly whirling Rooneyball. Just before it got to Billy’s mitt the ball would give out entirely and sink rapidly, inducing Billy to lean forward in order to catch it—only he couldn’t because at the last instant it would make a final, sneaky hop before bouncing surprisingly hard off Billy’s unprotected chest.

“Just like I told you,” Rooney Sullavan would exclaim. “All it takes is plain old air.”

Billy would come up with the ball in his upturned glove, his right hand rubbing the spot on his chest where the pitch had hit. “You all right, son?” Rooney would ask, and Billy would nod. “Tough kid,” Rooney’d say: “I’d like to stay out with you fellas all day, but I got responsibilities.” Rooney would muss up Billy’s hair with the hand that held the secret to The Rooneyball and walk away whistling “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling” or “My Wild Irish Rose.” Rooney was about forty-five or fifty years old and lived with his mother in a bungalow at the corner. He worked nights for Wanzer Dairy, washing out returned milk bottles.

Tommy Ryan would grab the ball out of Billy’s mitt and hold it by the tips of his fingers like Rooney Sullavan did, and Billy would go sit on the stoop in front of the closest house and rub his chest. “No way,” Tommy would say, considering the prospect of his ever duplicating Rooney’s feat. “There must be something he’s not telling us.”

BARRY GIFFORD of Berkeley, Ca., wrote The Neighborhood of Baseball.

In his overview of Donlin’s career, which appeared in the Baseball Research Journal last year, Michael Betzold cites the ballplayer-turned-actor’s screen work in the final paragraphs. Additionally, in my 1994 book Great Baseball Films, I devote a chapter to Donlin as a vaudevillian and movie actor. However, given his status as a pioneer ballplayer-turned-screen performer, Donlin’s celluloid career is worthy of further scrutiny.

Make no mistake, Mike Donlin was no movie star. Nor was he movie star material. While not homely, he was not handsome; his voice was ordinary sounding; his demeanor was less than charismatic. In most of his films, he was a supporting actor and, occasionally, even an uncredited bit player. He may have worked with such pantheon directors as John Ford, William A. Wellman, and Josef von Sternberg. He may have had roles in several bona-fide classics, including The General and Beggars of Life, released respectively in 1927 and 1928. He may have been employed by the A-list film studios. And he may have appeared in films starring screen legends from Jean Arthur, Wallace Beery, and Louise Brooks to Will Rogers and Mae West. Yet just as often, his directors, co-stars, and films are long-forgotten, and his studios are strictly poverty row.

Furthermore, even when Donlin earned billing, most of his screen roles were nondescript. Rarely was he a key supporting player. His characters either added background color and atmosphere or served to move the story along.

Quite a few of Donlin’s early screen appearances are in films that no longer exist. Such is the case with his debut feature: Right Off the Bat, released in 1915, a baseball drama in which he starred as himself. It was his only celluloid leading role.

Happily, his next screen appearance came in a film that still may be viewed. It is Raffles, the Amateur Cracksman, released in 1917, in which Donlin appears in a supporting role as Crawshay, a stick-up man. He shares several minutes of screen time in the company of two celebrated actors: John Barrymore, the film’s star, who is cast as the title character, a gentleman thief; and an astonishingly young Frank Morgan twenty-two years before playing his most celebrated screen role, the title character in The Wizard of Oz. After appearing onscreen, Donlin’s Crawshay points a gun at Barrymore’s Raffles and Morgan’s Bunny Manders. His intention is to pilfer some gems, which are referred to in the intertitles as  “sparklers” and “dem jewels,” but is easily manipulated by the crafty Raffles.

Donlin’s friendship with Barrymore led to his being cast in the film, as well as in The Sea Beast, a Barrymore swashbuckler released in 1926. In his 1944 biography, Good Night, Sweet Prince, Gene Fowler noted that Barrymore had “all sorts of friends,” among them Donlin, Jack Dempsey, Winston Churchill, and Albert Einstein. “It pleased [Barrymore] when any of these faces could be seen on his set or in his dressing room,” Fowler added.

Raffles, the Amateur Cracksman and The Sea Beast are of course silent films, as are more than half of Donlin’s fifty-odd screen credits. Among his “talkies,” or early sound films, is Hot Curves, a 1930 baseball comedy in which he plays a gruff scout who signs frenetic, double-talking train concessionaire Benny Goldberg (Benny Rubin) to a contract. The scout utters a line that might have been ad-libbed by Donlin, who played for the New York Giants for several seasons. It sounds like “I hope McGraw’ll be sold,” but the scout actually is referring to “McGrew,” his team’s skipper. The storyline in Hot Curves reportedly was inspired by the real-life signing of Andy Cohen by Giants manager John McGraw. Cohen, like the fictional Benny Goldberg, was Jewish, and their respective inkings were intended to lure Jewish fans to the ballpark. (By the way, fifteen years earlier, McGraw had appeared on-screen with Donlin in Right Off the Bat.)

In The Tip-Off, a 1931 gangster comedy-drama, Donlin is sixth-billed as Swanky Jones, a boxing trainer and pool room habitue who is as equally harsh in demeanor as the scout in Hot Curves. While the role mostly is nondescript in relation to anything that occurs onscreen, The Tip-Off does allow Donlin to share screen time with Ginger Rogers, then a Hollywood starlet.

In some of his sound films, Donlin (who died in 1933) appears uncredited. In order to note his presence in a number of them, you have to stumble across him while watching the film. One such appearance is in Picture Snatcher, a 1933 James Cagney crime drama. The American Film Institute Catalog, Feature Films, 1931-1940, perhaps the definitive published reference of film credits for that decade, lists the bit players who appear in Picture Snatcher, cast in such roles as “fireman,” “head keeper,” “journalism student,” and even “sick reporter” and “reporter outside prison.” None is Mike Donlin. Yet there he is, unmistakable in one brief shot. He is seen in a pool hall, and he speaks the following words into a telephone: “No, Mr. McLean, he ain’t been around here in over a week.” After a brief pause, he adds, “Yeah, I’ll tell him.”

What may be Donlin’s most memorable screen appearance is equally fleeting. In one sequence in Riley the Cop, a 1928 comedy-drama directed by John Ford, a bunch of kids are playing baseball on an inner-city street. The title character (J. Farrell MacDonald) arrives on the scene to reprimand the lads and break up their game, yet the boyish Riley is quickly convinced to join the kids in their play. He picks up a bat, and clumsily swings and misses at the first pitch tossed his way, in the process falling to the pavement. The cop does connect on his next swing, lifting a pop fly that crashes through a storefront window, necessitating the kids-and Riley-to commence scattering.

After Riley’s swing-and-miss, Ford includes an all-too-quick shot of Donlin looking on and smiling, with a cigarette dangling from his lips. While he is not billed on screen, various film references list the actor-ballplayer as playing “Crook.” Thus, the implication is that Donlin’s character is amused because he is eluding the law while Riley is indulging in a child’s game.

Yet given his background, the sequence — intentional or not — serves as an homage co Donlin’s past, and a wink-of-the-eye to anyone who recognizes him as an ex-major leaguer.

Mike Donlin Filmography

Right Off The Bat ( 1915). All Feature Booking Agency. Dir: Hugh Retickcr. Cast: John J. McGraw, Claire Merscreau, Rita Ross Donlin. Donlin plays himself.

Raffles, the Amateur Cracksman (1917), States Rights,. Dir: George Irving. Cast: John Barrymore, Frederick Perry, Frank Morgan, Evelyn Brent. Donlin plays Crawshay.

Jack Spurlock, Prodigal (1918), Fox. Dir: Carl Harbaugh. Cast: George Walsh, Dan Mason, Rush Taylor. Donlin plays Foreman.

Brave and Bold (1918). Fox. Dir: Carl Harbaugh. Cast: George Walsh, Francis X. Conlon, Regina Quinn. Donlin’s role is undetermined.

The Unchastened Woman (1918), George Kleine System. Dir: William Humphrey. Cast: Grace Valentine, Mildred Manning, Catherine Tower. Donlin plays O’Brien.

Railroaded (1923), Universal. Dir: Edmund Mortimer. Cast: Herbert Rawlinson, Esther Ralston. Donlin plays Corton.

Woman-Proof (1923), Paramount. Dir: Alfred E. Green. Cast: Thomas Meighan, Lila Lee, Louise Dresser, Mary Astor. Donlin plays Foreman.

The Unknown Purple (1923), Truart. Dir: Roland West Cast: Henry B. Walthall, Alice Lake, Stuart Holmes. Donlin plays Bur1on.

Flaming Barriers (1924), Paramount. Dir: George Melford. Cast: Jacqueline Logan, Antonio Moreno. Donlm’s role in undetermined.

The Trouble Shooter (1924), Fox. Dir: Jack Conway. Cast: Tom Mix, Kathleen Key, Frank Currier. Donlin plays Chet Connors (also credited as Chet Conners).

Hit and Run (1924), Universal. Dir: Edward Sedgwick. Cast: Hoot Gibson, Marion Harlan, Cyril Ring, Donlin plays Red McCarthy.

Oh, Doctor! (1925), Universal. Dir: Harry A. Pollard. Cast: Reginald Denny, Mary Astor, Otis Harlan. Donlin plays Buzz Titus.

Fifth Avenue Models (1925), Un1versal. Dir: Svend Gade, Cast: Mary Philbin, Norman Kerry, Josef Swickard, Jean Hersholt. Donlin plays Crook’s Henchman.

The Primrose Path (1925), Arrow. Dir: Harry O. Hoyt. Cast: Wallace MacDonald. Clara Bow, Arline Pretty, Stuart Holmes. Donlin plays Federal Officer Parker.

The Unnamed Woman (1925), Arrow. Dir: Harry O. Hoyt. Cast: Kachenne MacDonald. Herbert Rawlinson, Wanda Hawley. Donlin plays Chauffeur.

The Sea Beast (1926), Warner Bros. Dir: Millard Webb. Case: John Barrymore, Dolores Costello, George O’Hara. Donlin plays Flask.

Her Second Chance (1926), Vitagraph. Dir: Lambert Hillyer. Cast: Anna Q. Nilsson, Huntly Gordon, Charlie Murray, Donlin plays De Vries.

Ella Cinders (1926). First National. Dir: Alfred E. Green. Cast: Colleen Moore, Lloyd Hughes, Vera Lewis, Harry Langdon. Donlin plays Film Studio Gateman.

The Fighting Marine (1926), Pathe. Dir: Spencer Gordon Bennett. Cast: Gene Tunney, Marjorie Gay, Walter Miller. Feature version of 10-reel Pathe serial. Donlin’s role is undetermined.

The General (1927), United Artists, Dir: Buster Keaton, Clyde Bruckman. Cast: Buster Keaton, Glen Cavender, Marion Mack, Jim Farley. Donlin plays Union General.

Slide, Kelly, Slide (1927), MGM. Dir: Edward Sedgwick. Cast: William Haines, Sally O’Neil, Harry Carey, Junior Coghlan, Irish Meusel. Bob Meusel, Tony Lazzeri, Donlin plays himself.

Warming Up (1928). Paramount. Dir: Fred Newmeyer. Cast: Richard Dix, Jean Arthur, Claude King, Philo McCullough. Donlin plays Veteran.

Beggars of Life (1928), Paramount. Dir: William A. Wellman. Cast: Wallace Beery, Louise Brooks, Richard Arlen. Donlin plays Bill.

Riley the Cop (1928), Fox. Dir: John Ford. Cast: J. Farrell MacDonald. Louise Fazenda, Nancy Drexel, David Rollins. Donlin plays Crook.

Below the Deadline (1929), Chesterfield. Dir: J.P. McGowan. Cast: Frank Leigh, Barbara Worth, Arthur Rankin, Donlin plays Sandy.

Noisy Neighbors (1929), Parhe. Dir: Charles Reisner. Cast: Eddie Quillan, Alberta Vaughn, Theodore Roberts. Donlin plays Second Son.

Thunderbolt (1929), Paramount. Dir: Josef von Sternberg. Cast: George Bancroft, Fay Wray, Richard Arlen, Tully Marshall. Donlin plays Kentucky Sampson.

Burn Reckless (1930), Fox. Dir: John Ford. Cast: Edmund Lowe, Catherine Dale Owen, Warren Hymer, Marguerite Churchill, Lee Tracy. Donlin plays Fingy Moscovitz.

Hot Curves (1930), Tiffany. Dir: Norman Tautog. Cast: Benny Rubin, Rex Lease, Alice Day, Pert Kelton. Donlin plays Scout.

Her Man (1930), Pathe. Dir: Tay Garnett. Cast: Helen Twelvetrees, Marjorie Rambeau, Ricardo Cortes, Phillips Holmes, James Gleason, Thelma Todd. Donlin plays Bartender.

Widow from Chicago (1930), First National. Dir: Edward Cline. Cast: Alice White, Neil Hamilt0n, Edward G. Robinson, Frank McHugh. Donlin plays Desk Man.

Iron Man (1931), Universal. Dir: Tod Browning, Cast: Lew Ayres, Robert Armstrong, Jean Harlow, John Milian. Donlin plays McNeill.

Sweepstakes (1931), RKO. Dir: Albert Rogell. Cast: Eddie Quillan, Lew Cody, James Gleason, Marion Nixon. Donlin is listed in Variety as playing The Dude, a character credited on screen t0 Tom Jackson.

Star Witness (1931), Warner Bros. Dir: William A. Wellman. Cast: Walter Huston, Frances Starr, Grant Mitchell, Sally Blane. Donlin plays Mickey, a Thug.

The Tip-Off (1931), RKO. Dir: Albert Rogell. Cast: Eddie Quillan, Robert Armstrong, Ginger Rogers. Donlin plays Swanky Jones.

The Secret Witness (Terror By Night) (1931), Columbia. Dir: Thornton Freeland, Cast: Una Merkel, William Collier Jr., ZaSu Pitts. Donlin plays Mike the Speakeasy Proprietor.

Arrowsmith (1931). United Artists. Dir: John Ford. Cast: Ronald Colman, Helen Hayes, Richard Bennett, Clarence Brooks, Myrna Loy. Donlin has a bit part.

Bad Company (1931), RKO. Dir: Tay Garnett. Cast: Helen Twelvetrees, Ricardo Cortes, John Ganick, Paul Hurst, Harry Carey. Donlin has a bit part.

Beast of the City (1932), MGM. Dir: Charles Brabin. Cast: Walter Huston, Jean Harlow, Wallace Ford, Jean Hersholt. Donlin plays Reporter Going to Phone His Stuff.

A Fool’s Advice (Meet the Mayor) (1932), Warner Bros. Dir: Ralph Ceder. Cast: Frank Fay, Ruth Hall, Hale Hamilton. Donlin has a bit part.

The Famous Ferguson Case (1932), First National. Dir: Lloyd Bacon. Cast: Joan Blondell, Grant Mitchell, Vivienne Osborne. Donlin plays Photographer.

Madison Square Garden (1932), Paramount. Dir: Harry Joe Brown. Cast: Jack Oakie, Thomas Meighan, Marion Nixon, ZaSu Pitts. Donlin plays himself.

One Way Passage (1932), Warner Bro,. Dir: Tay Garnett. Cast: William Powell, Kay Francis, Aline MacMahon, Frank McHugh. Donlin plays Hong Kong Bartender.

She Done Him Wrong (1933). Paramount. Dir: Lowell Sherman. Cast: Mae West, Cary Grant, Owen Moore, Gilbert Roland. Donlin plays Tout.

Doctor Bull ( 1933), Fox. Dir: John Ford. Cast: Will Rogers, Vera Allen, Marion Nixon, Andy Devine. Donlin plays Lester Dunn.

High Gear (1933), States Rights. Dir: Leigh Jason. Cast: James Murray, Joan Marsh, Jackie Searl. Donlin plays Ed Evans.

Air Hostess (1933), Columbia. Dir: Albert Rogell. Cast: Evalyn Knapp, James Murray, Thelma Todd. Donlin plays Mike.

Picture Snatcher (1933), Warner Bros. Dir: Lloyd Bacon. Cast: James Cagney, Ralph Bellamy, Patricia Ellis. Donlin has a bit part.

Swell-Head (1935), Columbia. Dir: Ben St0loff. Cast: Wallace Ford, Dickie Moore, Barbara Kent, J. Farrell MacDonald. Donlin plays Brick Baldwin.

Who’s the batter? Nowadays, fans attending a Detroit Tigers game at Comerica Park can just look at the player—his name and assigned number are on the back of his uniform, and his name is displayed prominently on a huge scoreboard. However, a hundred years or so ago, Tigers fans attending a baseball game at Navin Field in Detroit had to buy a scorecard to find out who was batting. Fans could see the ID number of the batter on the scoreboard on the outfield wall. (Figure 1.)

Figure 1. The Navin Field scoreboard as it appeared during the 1934 World Series

 

The scoreboard had been located in left-center, but was relocated to right field to accommodate a bleacher section that was built for the World Series. In the upper left corner of the scoreboard, indicated by the arrow, it reads BATTER. The number 11 is shown, which corresponded to Schoolboy Rowe, who pitched and batted ninth in the order for Detroit that day. The line score indicates that the Cardinals completed their at bats in the top of the 5th inning, their line score being 1-0-0-0-2. The line score for Detroit (through the bottom of the 4th inning) is 0-0-1-0. According to the scoreboard, the Tigers are batting in the bottom of the 5th; there are two outs. This is in perfect synch with box score and play-by-play information given on Retrosheet for Game 6 of the 1934 World Series, confirming that Rowe is the batter.

The fans would then check their scorecards which listed the player names and their scoreboard ID numbers. Scorecards not only brought in revenue from sales at the ballpark, they were also a source of advertising revenue from local businesses. Figure 2 shows the scorecard grid for a game between Detroit and St. Louis in June 1922: four ads surround the grid. Other ads in the scorecard included Adams Black Jack Gum, Hotel Fort Shelby, Michigan Parfay Co., the American State Bank, the Haskins Agency (underwriting), Max O’Leary (Ford dealership), Louis Schiappacasse & Co. (fruits, candy, nuts, produce), and Thompson Auto Co. (Federal Motor Trucks dealership).1

Figure 2. The Detroit scorecard grid section for a Tigers-Browns game in June 1922

Unlike today, when players are assigned uniform numbers that very rarely change within a season, and some players might wear the same number for their entire careers, the ID numbers of players at Navin Field could vary from game to game. Because of changes in the roster, due to in-season transactions such as trades or promotions/demotions from/to the minor leagues, as well as changes in the starting lineups due to managerial realignments of the batting order, ID numbers would be reassigned. A new scorecard had to be bought for each game, or at least for each series, since the scorecards could not be reused from one series to the next, nor could the numbers be memorized. For example, Figure 3 compares facsimile scorecards for two games between the Tigers and the Yankees in 1926 at Navin Field, June 10 and September 11, following the same format as the scorecard shown in Figure 2.

Figure 3. Facsimile Detroit scorecard lineups from June 10, and September 11, 1926

Only two players had the same ID number for both games—Jackie Tavener (7) and Hooks Dauss (11). Even player-manager Ty Cobb had different ID numbers (4 and 61) for these games, reflecting that he was in the starting lineup in one game and not in the other. The scoreboard ID numbers corresponded to the lineup positions for the first seven batters, while the eighth spot is occupied by two catchers with scoreboard ID numbers 8 and 9. The pitchers have numbers in the teens and low twenties. The other players have scoreboard numbers that seem somewhat unusual—ID number 49 is that of the third-string catcher, while the others seem assigned at random: 51, 61, 71, 112, 151, and 171. (We do not know why many of these additional numbers end with the numeral one, though perhaps limiting the unique numerals used aided in the operation of the manual scoreboard.) With 27 unique home series between the Tigers and other American League clubs, there could have been as many as 27 unique scorecards, though examination of existing examples suggests they did not always update for every series. Examination of Retrosheet box scores suggests the numbers 1-6 and 8 were assigned to many different players during the course of the season. See Figure 4.

Figure 4. Possible Scoreboard ID Number Assignments for Players on the 1926 Detroit Tigers

These constant changes were certainly not fan-friendly. A simpler system would be to assign one number per player—such as a uniform number—which could be used as scoreboard ID number all season. While the idea had often been proposed, the majority of major-league clubs—including the Detroit Baseball Club—were strongly opposed because they feared it would reduce the sales of scorecards. As stated by Jack Looney in his book Now Batting, Number…, “during the idle winter months prior to the 1931 season, American League president Ernest S. Barnard informed all clubs in the league that players must wear numbers. He suggested that regulars wear #1–7, the catchers #8-11, pitchers #12–24 and utility players the rest. The #13 was left to the discretion of each team.”2 As The Sporting News reported, “The American League decided to number all of its players in 1931. It appeared to be the opinion of the owners that such identification had helped to maintain the individuality of Babe Ruth. With a number on his back, no one had mistaken him for any other player.”3 Uniform numbers had previously been used briefly, by Cleveland in 1916 and by the St. Louis Cardinals in 1923.4 The Cleveland Indians and the New York Yankees began using numbers on the backs of the uniforms of their players in 1929, and maintained the practice from then on.5 All eight National League clubs did so starting in 1932.6

The need for teams to assign one permanent ID number to each player is clearly demonstrated by Detroit Tigers scorecards from the 1930 season, the year before Barnard’s edict. Three are compared in Figure 5. See also Figure 6.

Figure 5. Comparison of the ID numbers shown in printed scorecards May 4, July 4, and September 27, 1930

In 1930, Detroit hosted 25 home series with at least 25 unique scorecards. A total of 36 players participated in at least one game. As was the custom, the ID numbers reflected the batting order, giving the leadoff hitter number 1, the next batter 2, etc. The catcher always occupied the eighth spot in the batting lineup, and both the first-string catcher and his primary backup were shown on the pre-printed scorecard, assigned numbers 8 and 9, respectively. A blank space beneath the catcher’s line was provided for the fan to fill in the name of the starting pitcher. Figure 6 presents a listing of the ID code numbers for the players on the 1930 Tigers, based on seven surviving scorecards viewed by the author.

Figure 6. Scoreboard ID Numbers for Players on the 1930 Detroit Tigers, Derived from Seven Unique Scorecards

Here are a few of the interesting aspects of the scoreboard numbers for the 1930 Tigers:

• During the season, manager Bucky Harris (who also had a code number in case he was activated) used numerous lineups and several player transactions took place. John Stone had at least five different code numbers—1, 112, 5, 6, 171. Likewise Bill Akers—61, 71, 7, 6, 223. Liz Funk, Roy Johnson, Mark Koenig, and Billy Rogell each had at least four different scoreboard numbers; Marty McManus and Charlie Sullivan each had at least three.
• The scoreboard number assigned to the most different players appears to be 7. The following seven players had scoreboard number 7 and batted seventh in the seven scorecards examined—Yats Wuestling, Billy Rogell, Roy Johnson, Bill Akers, Mark Koenig, Tom Hughes, and Johnny Watson. According to box scores for other games played at Navin Field, Frank Doljack, Bob Fothergill, and Liz Funk also batted seventh, so as many as ten players may have had ID number 7.
• The out-of-sorts scoreboard numbers on the seven scorecards examined include 31 (Charlie Sullivan), 49 (third-string catchers Tony Rensa, Gene Desautels, and Hughie Wise); 61 (Bill Akers, Paul Easterling, Mark Koenig, and Marty McManus); 71 (Akers, Bob Fothergill, and Koenig); 112 (Bucky Harris, Jimmy Shevlin, and John Stone); 122 (Roy Johnson and Shevlin); 149 (Harris), 151 (Easterling and Rogell); 161 (Hank Greenberg); 171 (Stone); and 223 (Akers). Examination of other scorecards would probably yield more players with these numbers and that there may be additional out-of-the-ordinary scoreboard numbers.

Given Barnard’s edict, one might expect that for the 1931 season, this situation would cease. And the Detroit Baseball Club did comply with the AL mandate to give uniform numbers to each of its players in 1931, but the club only followed the letter of the law, not the spirit of the law. While the players were assigned uniform numbers, the Tigers did not display those numbers on the scoreboard. They continued to use variable scoreboard ID numbers in 1931–34, ensuring that fans still needed to purchase scorecards. For example, in 1933, when Hank Greenberg joined the Tigers for good, his uniform number for the entire season was 7, but his scoreboard number varied among four different numbers—61, 5, 6, and 7.

Figure 7 shows the scorecard grid from the Tigers official scorecard for the August 2–4, 1933, series versus the Chicago White Sox. The scoreboard number (Scr. Br. No.) is given on the left of the player’s name and the uniform number (Uniform No.) is shown on the right. The player’s uniform number presented in parentheses suggests that it was not as important as the scoreboard number (at least according to the Detroit Baseball Club). For the players in the starting lineup, only Greenberg’s scoreboard number (7) and his uniform number (7) are the same. Among the pitchers and players not in the starting lineup, none have the same scoreboard and uniform number.

Figure 7. The Detroit scorecard grid section for Tigers-White Sox series, August 2–4, 1933

Examining the practices of the Tigers in the 1931–34 period reveals how the practice of uniform number adoption was changing. There are many interesting aspects to discover about the ID numbers and the uniform numbers of the Tigers players for each season during the 1931–34 period. Many of these are presented in the Appendix to this paper, which is found online at SABR.org. Some items of particular note are given here:

• In 1931, three players had unusually high (out-of-sorts) uniform numbers—Johnny Grabowski (35), George Quellich (37), and Art Herring (41), as did two Detroit coaches—Jean Dubuc (43) and (future Hall-of-Famer) Roger Bresnahan (52). We don’t know whether these numbers had any special significance to those men or if the assignments were random. Only Herring continued in the major leagues beyond the 1931 season, but he changed to the uniform number 18 in both 1932 and 1933.
• In 1931, the Tigers reassigned six different uniform numbers within the season. Uniform number 5 was worn by both Marty McManus (107 games, April 14 through August 25) and Gene Desautels (3 games, September 23–27); uniform number 6: Frank Doljack (60 games, April 14 through July 25) and Orlin Collier (2 games, September 11–23); uniform number 8: Wally Schang (30 games, April 14 through June 22) and Muddy Ruel (14 games, September 14–26); uniform number 29: Marv Owen (107 games, April 16 through August 16) and Nolen Richardson (38 games, August 20 through September 27). Three players each wore uniform number 7 at one time or another during the season—Bill Akers (29 games, April 14 through June 8), Louis Brower (21 games, June 13 through July 27), and Billy Rogell (48 games, August 8 through September 27).
• Twenty men were on the Tigers in both 1931 and 1932, but only two of them had the same uniform number in both seasons—Tommy Bridges (16) and Dale Alexander (4). But only one 1932 player had a different uniform number in 1933—Frank Doljack (21 changing to 9). Eighteen men played for Detroit in both 1933 and 1934; only three of them had the same uniform number in both seasons—Chief Hogsett (17), Ray Hayworth (23), and Charlie Gehringer (2).
• Considering the uniform numbers ultimately retired by the Tigers—1 (in honor of Lou Whitaker, 2022), 2 (Charlie Gehringer, 1983), 3 (Alan Trammell, 2018), 5 (Hank Greenberg, 1983), 6 (Al Kaline, 1980), 11 (Sparky Anderson, 2011), 16 (Hal Newhouser, 1997), 23 (Willie Horton, 2000), 47 (Jack Morris, 2018)—the following 1931 Tigers were the first ones to wear them—Hub Walker (1), Gee Walker (2), Charlie Gehringer (3), Marty McManus (5), Frank Doljack (6), Earl Whitehill (11), Tommy Bridges (16). Note that the number 42 has been retired in all of MLB in Jackie Robinson’s honor.

CONCLUDING REMARKS

In 1935, the Tigers finally did away with the practice of forcing fans to refer to variable scoreboard ID numbers for each game: the official scorecards provided only the players’ uniform numbers, which were used on the scoreboard. Even though the 1931–34 Tigers players had fixed uniform numbers to meet the mandate of the American League, the Detroit Baseball Club chose to use the same varying ID number system for display on the outfield scoreboard used in 1930 (as well as prior seasons). Examination of the uniform numbers for the Detroit Tigers during the 1931–34 seasons yields a fascinating story—revealing the strategy of the Detroit Baseball Club to circumvent the “spirit of the law” by keeping in place the scoreboard numbers while following the “letter of the law” by introducing uniform numbers, which were functionally irrelevant.

This is just one of the numerous engaging aspects that have emerged from my quest (which commenced in January 2001) to independently ascertain complete and accurate uniform numbers for the diamondeers who played for (and/or managed or coached) the Tigers (or who were on the active roster, but did not play—aka “Phantom Tigers”) from 1931 forward.7 (As described in previous articles, I have detailed other extraordinary aspects provided by the uniform numbers worn by Detroit Tiger players over the ensuing years.8) Other teams also participated in this practice of assigning scoreboard numbers, yet very little about them is mentioned in the many books about uniform numbers.9 Researching the topic is hereby heartily recommended to diehard fans of their teams, with the caveat that while the endeavor will be both challenging and rewarding, it will also likely be (very) frustrating, as exemplified by my not yet having been able to ascertain the uniform numbers (and scoreboard numbers) of Luke Hamlin and Roxy Lawson on the 1933 Detroit Tigers.10 

HERM KRABBENHOFT, a longtime SABR member—and frequent contributor to both the Baseball Research Journal and The National Pastime—has been a Detroit Tigers fan since Zeb Eaton (uniform #17) hit a pinch grand slam against the Yankees (July 15, 1945). Herm’s first in-person Tigers grand slam was by Bill Tuttle (#5) on May 20, 1956, at Briggs Stadium versus the Senators. Other memorable Tigers home runs for Herm include four by Charlie Maxwell (#4) on Sunday, May 3, 1959, vs the Yankees.

Detroit manager Bucky Harris (shown with Kenesaw Mountain Landis in 1932), was assigned various ID numbers in case he was activated as a player. (SABR-Rucker Archive)

Online appendix

Click here to view the online appendix to this article

In baseball’s early days, it was common practice for the pitcher to play other positions in the field when he was not on the mound. In the American Association in 1884, for example, Guy Hecker of Louisville won the batting title at .342 while pitching in 49 games and playing other positions in 37. In 1897, Nixey Callahan went 12-9 on the mound and also played 50 games in the infield, 21 in the outfield, and batted .292. Some players, over their careers, changed positions. Cy Seymour, for example, led the NL in pitcher strikeouts in 1898 and, as an outfielder, led in batting average in 1905. Over his career, Monte Ward won 163 games and collected 2105 base hits.

While many players have both pitched and played in the field, only a few in recent baseball history had the ability to do it in more than a few games. Limiting the list to those major leaguers who have both pitched in at least 20 games and also played the field in 20 games, we find more than 100 players qualified during the 1876-1910 period. But in the last 70 years, there have been only 33 to accomplish this feat. Despite the small number, the baseball universe is adequately represented by Hall of Famers, stars, bonus babies, and fringe players. Also included are a black, a Cuban, and a phenom from Texas.

Probably the reason for the low number is the age of specialization. No longer do we find the attitude of Smoky Joe Wood who, after his pitching arm went bad, stated, “Doggone it, I was a ballplayer, not just a pitcher.” Wood went on to play five more years in the majors as an outfielder. By decades the number of pitcher-players are:

• 1910-19: 9
• 1920-29: 8
• 1930-39: 3
• 1940-49: 5
• 1950-59: 5
• 1960-69: 3
• 1970-82: none

Here are brief profiles saluting the 33 “complete” players by decades:

Rube Bressler – 26-31, 3.40 ERA in 107 games pitched; batted .301 in 1305 games overall. . . in 1920 Bressler tried to come back too soon after a fractured ankle and favoring his leg he developed an unnatural pitching motion. . . so long pitching days, hello outfield. . . during 1924-26 Rube hit .351 . . . one of the few players to throw lefthanded but bat righthanded . . . seven years as a pitcher then a dozen seasons in the outfield and first base.

Ray Caldwell – 134-120, 3.21 ERA for 343 games pitched; batted .248 in 582 contests. . . helped the 1920 Cleveland Indians to the AL pennant with a 20-10 record. . . threw a no-hitter in 1919 against the New York Yankees . . . spent his first nine years as a pitcher-outfielder for the Yankees . . . led league in pinch-hit appearances in 1915 . . . 46 games in the garden, six at first base.

Doc Crandall – 106-61, 2.92 ERA in 302 games pitched; batted .285 in 500 games . . . one of the great early relief hurlers, the right-hander led the NL in relief appearances for five consecutive seasons then jumped to the Federal League where he was a second baseman-pitcher. . . on the pennant-winning 1911-13 New York Giant teams . . . played 78 games as an infielder.

Dode Criss – 3-9, 4.38 ERA in 30 games pitched; batted .276 in 227 games. . . entire four-year major-league stay was with the St. Louis Browns….led the American League in both pinch-hits and pinch-hit appearances in all four seasons. . . finished with a 35-for-l47 mark in the pinch-hit role . . . also played 27 games at first base and seven in the outfield.

George Cunningham – 17-25, 3.13 ERA for 123 games pitched; batted .224 in 162 contests. . . just made the list by playing 20 games in the outfield in 1918 and one in 1921 . . . righthander was a member of the Detroit Tigers for his five big league campaigns.

Clarence Mitchell – 125-139, 4.12 ERA for 390 games pitched; batted .252 in 649 contests. . . last of the lefthanded spitball hurlers . . set major-league mark by hitting into the World Series’ only unassisted triple play in 1920, and in his next at-bat Mitchell banged into a double play . . . five outs with two swings . . interchanged with first base and outfield throughout his career.

Babe Ruth – 94-46, 2.28 ERA in 163 games pitched; battered .342 in 2502 games. . . considered by many the greatest player in the history of baseball . . . started out as a pitcher for the Boston Red Sox, but his slugging demanded more playing time. . .714 career homers with 60 slammed in 1927 . . . still holds some Red Sox pitching marks; charter member of the Hall of Fame.

George Sisler – 5-6, 2.35 ERA for 24 games pitched; batted .340 in 2054 games . . . pitched three years of varsity ball at the University of Michigan and was signed by Branch Rickey for the St. Louis Browns . . . as a rookie in 1915 Sisler split eight decisions. . . had 1-0 victory over Walter Johnson in 1916. . . lost only start against Tigers but hit homer and held Ty Cobb to an 0-for-5 day . . . set major league record of 257 hits in 1920 when he batted .407. . . two years later Sisler owned a .420 batting average on the strength of 246 hits . . . also led the league in stolen bases four times . . elected to the Hall of Fame in 1939.

Smoky Joe Wood – 112-58, 2.03 ERA for 225 games pitched; batted .283 in 695 games. . . in 1912 with the Boston Red Sox Wood won 34 games plus three in the World Series, hurled ten shutouts and won 16 in a row. . . he was only 22 years old. . . next season his arm went bad when he slipped on wet grass while fielding a ground ball and broke his thumb . . . from then on his right shoulder was always in pain . . . despite this he led the league with a 1.49 ERA in 1915 while posting a 15-5 mark. . . became an outfielder for the Cleveland Indians in 1918 and besides Babe Ruth is the only player to be in a World Series both as a pitcher and an outfielder …..

Jack Bentley – 46-34, 4.01 ERA in 138 games pitched; batted .291 in 287 contests . . . started in the majors as a pitcher but in 1921 he burned up the International League with a .412 batting average and 246 hits for the Baltmore Orioles . . . the lefthander pitched in five World Series games and pinch-hit in five Series contests for the 1923-24 New York Giants. . . played 59 games at first base…..

Johnny Cooney – 34-44, 3.72 ERA in 159 games pitched; batted .286 in 1172 games. . . pitched and played the outfield and first-base throughout his career. . . only in six of his twenty big league seasons did Cooney just pitch or play the field . . . in 1941 at age 40 he hit .319 with 141 hits. . . like Bressler, Cooney threw left-handed but batted righthanded. . . along with Babe Ruth and Joe Wood, Johnny is one of the three players in the 20th century to hurl over 200 innings and bat over 500 times in a season.

Chick Davies – 4-6, 4.48 ERA in 45 games pitched; batted .193 in 117 games . . . came up as an outfielder for the 19 14-15 Philadelphia A’s then returned to the majors 11 years later as a relief hurler for the New York Giants. . . led in saves and games finished in 1926.

Lefty O’Doul – 1-1, 4.87 ERA for 34 games pitched; batted .349 in 970 games. . . first seven years as a pro were as a pitcher but then he hurt his arm . . . became an outfield regular at age 3 1 and one year later he set the National League record for most hits in a season (254) while batting .398. . . won another NL bat crown at age 35 with a .368 average . . . helped start baseball in Japan . . . became great minor league manager in Pacific Coast League….

Ossie Orwoll 6-7, 4.63 ERA in 39 games pitched; batted .294 in 94 games. . . major-league career spanned just two seasons with the 1928-29 Philadelphia Athletics . . . lefthander appeared as first baseman-pitcher his rookie campaign and was an outfielder-pitcher in his finale…

Reb Russell – 74-60, 2.34 ERA for 241 games pitched; batted .268 in 417 contests . . . won 21 games in his rookie season and lasted seven season with the Chicago White Sox before arm trouble forced a career change . . . coming back as an outfielder for the 1922 Pittsburgh Pirates Russell drove in 75 runs in 60 games while batting .368……

Bob Smith – 106-139, 3.95 ERA in 435 games pitched; batted .242 in 742 games . . . started out as the regular shortstop for the 1923-24 Boston Braves, then switched to pitching . . . aside from the Cadore-Oeschger 26-inning pitching duel, Smith pitched more innings in a single NL game than anyone else . . . the righthander threw 22 frames in 1927, losing 4-3 to the Cubs . . . played 256 games in the infield….

Paul Strand – 7-3, 2.37 ERA in 28 games pitched; batted .201 in 105 games . . . broke into the majors at age 19 as a pitcher, then switched to the outfield in the minors . . . set an organized ball record with 325 hits in 1923 while with Salt Lake City of the Pacific Coast League . . . in the minors Paul had a career average of .334 with 1956 hits . . . was 42-32 as a minor-league thrower. . . returned to the majors with the 1924 Philadelphia A’s and batted just .228 ….

Chubby Dean – 30-46, 5.08 ERA in 162 games pitched; batted .274 in 533 games. . . went to the Philadelphia A’s from Duke University after his sophomore year . . . played 155 games at first base his first two seasons, then switched to the mound . . . walked 323 batters vs. 195 strikeouts during his career. . .hit .351 in 77 at-bats in 1939…..

Bobby Reis – 10-13, 4.27 ERA in 69 games pitched; batted .233 in 175 games. . . most versatile of all players on the list. . . played every position while splitting his career between the Brooklyn Dodgers and Boston Braves.

Bucky Walters – 198-160, 3.30 ERA in 428 games pitched; batted .243 in 715 contests . . . started out as a third baseman; then, after 165 games in the infield, he became one of baseball’s better pitchers, winning 20 or more three times and helping the Cincinnati Reds to their first pennant in 20 years with a 27-11 mark in l939 . .

Ben Chapman – 8-6, 4.39 ERA in 25 games pitched; batted .302 in 1716 contests . . . the best base stealer on the list with 287 career thefts including 61 in 193 1 . . . led the league in steals four times . .helped out by pitching during the 1944-45 war years.

Johnny Lindell – 8-18, 4.47 ERA in 55 games pitched; batted .273 in 854 games . . . pitching appearances came in his first full year and last full season, eleven years apart . . . led AL batters in triples in 1944; then, nine years later, he topped NL hurlers in walks issued . . . played 689 games in the outfield during his 12-year stay…

Max Macon – 17-19, 4.24 ERA in 81 games pitched; batted .265 in 226 games . . . the war years gave Max an opportunity for more play . . . after four years of mound action the lefty was a first baseman-outfielder for the 1944 Boston Braves…

Rene Monteagudo – 3-7, 6.42 ERA in 46 games; batted .289 in 156 games. . . a native of Cuba, had three roles in the majors: 46 games pitched, 44 games in the outfield and 66 games as a pinch hitter . . . another player whose opportunity knocked during 1944-45…

Earl Naylor – 0-5, 6.12 ERA in 20 games pitched; batted .186 in 112 games . . . owns the worst statistics on the list . . . failed to win a game and went just 54-for-290 but did manage three home runs….another body called in during the 1942-1943 years before going into the military service…

Erv Dusak – 0-3, 5.33 ERA in 23 games pitched; batted .243 in 413 games. . . “Four Sack” Dusak lifted just 24 career home runs in nine seasons . . . played the outfield, second and third base before turning to the mound in 1950 . . . a shoulder separation in 1951 put him back in the outfield.

Dick Hall – 93-75, 3.32 ERA in 495 games pitched; batted .210 in 669 games . . . signed by the Pittsburgh Pirates as an outfielder-infielder . . . one of the tallest second baseman at 6’6″ . . . became a premier relief pitcher, throwing just one wild pitch in his career and walking only 236 in 1259 innings . . . career spanned 19 campaigns.

Clint Hartung – 29-29, 5.02 ERA in 112 games pitched; batted .238 in 196 games. . . “The Hondo Hurricane” . . . the phenom of the l950s. . . so great that supposedly he could check into the Hall of Fame immediately, but in six years Hartung fizzled first as a pitcher then as an outfielder while with the New York Giants ….

Hal Jeffcoat – 39-37, 4.22 ERA in 245 games pitched; batted .248 in 918 games . . . a strong arm but weak stick in the outfield . . . after six years of averaging over 100 games per season as a Cub flyhawk, Hal made the switch . . . pitched in 50 games in 1955 . . . in six seasons as a pitcher, Jeffcoat was never called on to pinch hit . .

Johnny O’Brien – 1-3, 5.61 ERA in 25 games pitched; batted .250 in 339 games . . . part of a twin-brother act in baseball . . . basketball stars in college, Johnny and Eddie were infielders for the Pittsburgh Pirates and both took a turn at pitching . . . they pitched for the Bucs in 1956-58 but Eddie got into just five contests as hurler….in 61 innings Johnny was touched for 61 hits….

Mel Queen – 20-17, 3.14 ERA in 140 games pitched; batted .179 in 269 games . . . his father, Mel Queen, pitched eight years in the majors fashioning a 2 7-40 mark. . . the son began in the minors in 1960 as a third baseman, then his strong throwing arm subsequently led him to the outfield, then the mound . . . hit less than .200 in 53 games as a Cincinnati Reds outfielder . . . won 14 games in 1967….

Willie Smith – 2-4, 3.10 ERA in 29 games pitched; batted .248 in 691 games. . . the only black to accomplish the pitcher-player feat . . . in 1963 with Syracuse of the International League the versatile Mr. Smith went 30-for-79 for a .380 bat mark and won 14 games. . . then on to the majors for nine seasons and five clubs…..lefthander hammered 46 homers and pitched in 1963, 1964 and 1968.

Danny Murphy – 4-4, 4.65 ERA in 68 games pitched; batted .177 in 117 games. . . signed by the Chicago Cubs in 1960 after going 12-0 and batting .460 in prep school, Murphy made his major-league debut a day before his 18th birthday . . . was in 34 outfield games for the Cubs during 1960-62 but the bonus baby couldn’t hit major-league pitching; so it was to the minors where in 1966 with Evansville of the Southern League he turned to pitching. . . appeared in 68 relief games with the 1969-70 Chicago White Sox, becoming the last player to make the switch .

Obviously these 33 two-way performers were a cut above the average big leaguer. For one, their careers lasted longer, bettering more than ten seasons. Compiling their complete batting and pitching statistics, we find a .296 career batting average based on 16,978 hits and a .524 winning percentage from the mound. Reducing the statistics to a composite season we find:

The pitcher-player. A rare breed indeed. Are they now forever extinct?

Even though Minneapolis had been home to a professional club for most of the previous 20 years, it would not be until 1896 that it won its first pennant. The closest any club had been to a flag was in the 1890 Western Association, when Minneapolis finished a game back of Kansas City. After not having a team in 1893, Minneapolis joined Ban Johnson’s Western League in 1894. Two fourth-place finishes resulted, but 1,282 runs scored in 123 games (10.4 runs per game) in 1895 led to high hopes for 1896. Chart 1 shows Western League team averages for 1895, and despite outscoring the next team by a half-run per game, the Millers were only a few games over .500. Millers fans were optimistic that several changes made over the winter would improve the club. When several midseason moves during 1896 paid immediate dividends and resulted in a winning streak for the ages, the Millers had a season worth remembering.

The 1896 Western League season of 140 games began on April 22 and it became clear that several Millers pitchers would not last long.1 Jesse Duryea would get two starts (0–2, 11 innings) and “Deacon” Rice would appear in seven games (1–3, 43 innings).2 Egyptian Healy and Bill Carney, holdovers from 1895, would pitch in 16 and 25 games respectively. Healy pitched into mid-July with a record of 6–6 and Carney into early August with a record of 9–9. Carney would finish the season with Kansas City. Of the 11 pitchers the Millers would use, only Bill Hutchison would play the entire season. His 49 complete games in 52 starts and 37–13 won-loss record over 442 innings were critical to winning the pennant.3

Other pitchers used were Varney Anderson (9–4 between June 6 and August 28) and Kirtley Baker (3–3 from August 16 to the end of the season). Baker started the season with Milwaukee. Charlie Hastings, on loan from Pittsburgh, would win four games between June 25 and July 7 with a 1.70 ERA in 37 innings. He also had six hits with four of them going for extra bases. Not surprisingly, he was recalled by the Pirates.

Two pitchers acquired during the 1896 season paid immediate dividends. While Frank Figgemeier would lose his first three and his last two decisions for the Millers, between August 9 and September 8 he would win 10 consecutive games. Earlier in the season, while with Des Moines of the Western Association, Figgemeier won 13 games in a row, en route to a 15–3 record.4 Part of his streak was part of a 25-game win streak by Des Moines.5 Another pitcher who helped put the Millers over the top was Harley “Doc” Parker, acquired by Minneapolis in early August from Grand Rapids despite his 0–10 record for the tailenders. He would match Figgemeier with 10 straight wins, only to drop his last two decisions.6

Rosters were limited to only 14 or 15 players at any one time, meaning the only substitutes were the second catcher and pitchers between starts. Catcher Pop Schriver, first baseman Perry Werden, third baseman Bill Kuehne, and left fielder Dan Lally played almost every inning of every game. Art Ball would lead the league’s shortstops with 120 games played. Jim Conner played most of the innings at second base until he was hurt on August 23. John Pickett was acquired from St. Paul to fill in for 26 games while Connor was on the shelf. Player-manager Walt Wilmot played 115 games in center field. The right fielders were Charlie Frank through July 19 and Walt Preston for the remainder of the season. Low roster sizes were the norm throughout baseball at this time, and players played until they were hurt or until their performance demanded a change. Pinch-hitting was rare (one pitcher for another), and position switches during a game were usually the result of an ejection or injury.

Though the Millers’ home run total dropped by half between 1895 and 1896 (from 215 to 107), they still had a potent offense. Werden led the way with 217 hits, 42 doubles, and 54 stolen bases, followed closely by Wilmot, with 204 hits and 54 stolen bases. Schriver contributed 203 hits and Lally scored 153 runs. Accurate statistics are difficult to find and those found in Spalding’s Official Base Ball Guide and Reach’s Official Base Ball Guide and SABR’s own Minor League Stars I and II contain only a few categories per player or only a few players with lengthy careers. My own totals, derived from the daily box scores from the St. Paul Globe, sometimes did not match the season totals published by the same newspaper. Even though their runs scored dropped by 158 runs, the Millers scored 10 or more runs 41 times in 1896.

The team would play in three home parks in 1896. Athletic Park, their home since 1889, was only a block west of the main business district. Businessmen long eyed the property and in May the park was sold and the Millers were given 30 days’ notice to vacate.7 Fortunately, they had a long road trip and three weeks to locate a plot of land and erect a ballpark. Their first game at their new park in south Minneapolis was on June 19. Initially called Wright Field, it quickly became known as Nicollet Park and would remain their home for the next 60 years. However, because baseball games weren’t allowed on Sundays in Nicollet Park’s neighborhood, Sunday games continued to be played at Minnehaha Park until the issue was settled in 1909. Overall, their record was 12–5 at Athletic Park, 7–3 at Minnehaha Park and 35–9 at Nicollet Park, giving Minneapolis an outstanding 54–17 home record in 1896. They outscored opponents 668–396 at home. St. Paul, the Millers’ Twin City rivals, also had an outstanding home record of 51–17–3 and outscored opponents 866–494 at home during 1896.

While the reasons for the home dominance of the Twin Cities clubs are largely unexplainable, the reasons for the high run totals across the league are a bit clearer. Small ballparks throughout the league led to many extra base hits and baserunners were extremely aggressive. Instances of teams having eight or more extra-base hits or eight or more stolen bases in a single game are too numerous to mention.

Stolen base totals should be taken with some skepticism and can vary widely depending on the source. The definition of the stolen base wasn’t narrowed until 1898, and baserunners were often credited with a stolen base when advancing an extra base on a teammate’s hit. Judging by the high assist totals by the outfielders, runners often tried for an extra base when it was unwise. Fields were not as well manicured as today, nor fielders as skilled. A few players still played barehanded, and gloves were small with little padding or webbing.

The change in the pitching distance to 60 feet, 6 inches was several years in the past but pitchers were still adjusting. It ended the career of several major league pitchers, and it is not unreasonable to assume that minor-league pitchers faced an even more difficult and lengthy adjustment. Pitchers often had more bases on balls than strikeouts, and wild pitches and hit batters were numerous. Home teams usually batted first and thus batted in the top of the ninth inning with a lead, often adding to their run total. Pitchers were expected to finish their games and often tired in the later innings. With a lead, it was not unusual for them to ease up and gave up a few meaningless runs. A 12–7 win counted just the same as a 12–2 win.

The 1896 Western League season saw multiple clubs post long winning streaks. Early in the season Detroit won 12 straight games followed by a tie. St. Paul would reel off a 16-game streak between July 5 and July 22, followed by a tie on July 23. The Millers would top both these streaks. Between August 8 and September 15, they would win 36 of 38 games to turn a four-game deficit into a 12-game lead. They waltzed to the pennant. The streak began with 11 straight wins before a loss to Kansas City in the second game of a double-header on August 19. Another 19 wins in a row followed. A loss at Grand Rapids on September 11, by one run in eight innings, ended the streak. No reason was given in the press for the short game. Another six straight wins followed. Hutchison led with 12 wins in 14 decisions during the streak. Figgemeier and Parker each had 10 wins, Baker added three, and Anderson one. The Millers’ final record was 89–47–4 even though they lost seven of their last nine games.

By winning the pennant, the Millers qualified for the tournament for a trophy sponsored by the Detroit Free Press. They would face the second-place Indianapolis Hoosiers, a team they had beaten by nine games. The best-of-seven series started immediately after the end of the regular season. Fortunately for the Millers, they finished their season in Columbus, so they had only a short train ride to Indianapolis for the first game on September 24. Unfortunately for them, it didn’t help, as they dropped the opener behind Parker, 9–7, and the second game behind Figgemeier, 19–7. Hutchison stopped the losing funk (nine losses in the last 11 games) with a 6–3 win in Game Three.

The series switched to Minneapolis and the Millers tied the series with a 7–6 win in Game Four behind Parker. Hutchison shut out the Hoosiers on four hits in game five, 4–0. On October 1, the season ended with a 13–11 Millers win in Game Six. Figgemeier started the game and was replaced after two innings with the game tied, 5–5. Parker pitched the final seven innings.

The Millers would not be able to repeat their success. Several players moved on, some to the major leagues. They lost over 90 games each of the next two years. After the Western League was rechristened the American League and included a Minneapolis entry for the single year of 1900, Minneapolis became a charter member of the American Association in 1902. They would not see another pennant until they won three in a row (1910–12) when managed by “Pongo Joe” Cantillon, who would stay on as manager for 14 years, during which time the Millers captured four pennants and finished as league runner-up three teams. Cantillon was also a part owner of the team with his brother Mike and a revolving cast of investors.

RICH ARPI is a reference librarian and archival cataloger for the Ramsey County Historical Society in St. Paul, Minnesota. He has been a SABR member since 1982 and is an active member in Minnesota’s Halsey Hall Chapter, giving numerous presentations on Minnesota baseball history over the years. He has been active in several SABR committees and written several biographies for the BioProject, articles for The National Pastime, and book reviews for various SABR committee newsletters.

Notes

1 Since the Spalding and Reach Guides provide only limited player and team statistics, I compiled my own from the box scores in the St. Paul Globe, the Minneapolis Tribune, and The Sporting News. Baseball-Reference provides only rosters for the 1896 Western League season.

2 “Great Team Won First Pennant for Minneapolis,” Minneapolis Journal, September 26, 1910. The article recaps the 1896 season, and details that the team “got hold of two ‘finds’ that year, Deacon Hutton and ‘Deacon’ Rice. Anson predicted that Rice would be the greatest pitcher in America.” From the use of quotation marks in the article, one must assume “Deacon” was not Rice’s real first name, but none other has been discovered.

3 Some sources credit Hutchison with a 38–14 record. His 37–12 record in his 49 complete games should not be in question. Of his other six appearances the Millers only won two of those games. On August 26, he was knocked out in the second inning trailing, 6–1. The Millers won the game, 11–10. On June 4, he pitched the final two innings in relief of Egyptian Healy, entering the game with an 8–4 lead. On July 15, he was clearly the loser, taken out after three innings trailing, 8–2, in a 10–3 loss. On May 9, he was taken out after eight innings with a 14–13 lead. Bill Carney gave up the final seven runs in a 20–14 loss. On May 22, he pitched the final inning of a 7–5 loss, entering the game when the score was 7–4.

4 Larry DeFillipo, “Frank Figgemeier,” SABR BioProject, accessed July 1, 2024, https://sabr.org/bioproj/person/frank-figgemeier/. The Minor League Encyclopedia lists Figgenmeier with a 17–3 record.

5 DeFillipo, “Frank Figgemeier.”

6 On August 9, Parker relieved Figgemeier in the ninth inning and got the final three outs after Figgemeier had allowed two runs to tie the score. The Millers won the game with a run in the bottom of the ninth inning. Figgemeier was granted the win under scoring rules of the time. Modern rules, if applied, would have given Parker the victory and 11 straight wins. Figgemeier’s streak would have ended at nine wins.

7 Stew Thornley, “Athletic Park (Minneapolis),” SABR BioProject, accessed July 1, 2024, https://sabr.org/bioproj/park/athletic-park-minneapolis/.

8 Henry Chadwick, ed., Spalding’s Base Ball Guide and Official League Book for 1896 (New York: American Sports Publishing Company, 1896), 133.