Search Results for “node/Larry Jackson” – Society for American Baseball Research https://sabr.org Thu, 22 Aug 2024 22:25:21 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.6.2 Going Downtown with a Golden Sombrero: Combining Baseball’s Best and Worst True Outcomes https://sabr.org/journal/article/going-downtown-with-a-golden-sombrero-combining-baseballs-best-and-worst-true-outcomes/ Wed, 01 Nov 2023 07:08:00 +0000

For a batter or pitcher, the best—or worst—of the “Three True Outcomes” is a home run or a strikeout.1 The rates of the both home runs and strikeouts have increased substantially over the years. To illustrate, let’s compare 1949 and 2019. In the National League in 1949, 42,711 at bats resulted in 935 homers and 4,587 in strikeouts, while NL batters in 2019 collected 3,298 homers and whiffed 21,408 times.2 Tables 1 and 2 summarize the comparative information (absolute and relative, respectively) for the 1949 and 2019 seasons.3

These data show an 81.3% increase in home runs and a 139.9% increase in strikeouts from 1949 to 2019. The rate of strikeouts per homer is also up substantially: 32.2%.

Turning the focus to specific players, I thought it would be interesting to see which players have compensated for multiple strikeouts in a game by hitting a key home run. In the baseball lexicon one term seems particularly appropriate—the “Golden Sombrero,” which, according to The Dickson Baseball Dictionary, is “A mythical award given to a batter who strikes out four times in a game.”4 And since “Going Downtown” is a commonly used expression to describe hitting a home run, I’ve dubbed the combination of four strikeouts and a homer in the same game a Downtown Golden Sombrero (DGS). My research here has two objectives: First, find all players with a Downtown Golden Sombrero.5 Second, find out were any of those downtowners redemptive—i.e., a game-winning or a game-saving homer?

 

Tables 1 and 2

RESEARCH PROCEDURE

Using the Stathead search engine on the Baseball-Reference.com website, I ascertained all players who assembled (I hesitate to use the term “achieved”) a Golden Sombrero and also went Downtown in the same game, during the regular seasons from 1901 through 2023 in the American League and National League seasons, and in 1914–15 in the Federal League. I also searched the Game-By-Game statistics generated by Information Concepts, Incorporated (ICI sheets) for the 1891–1900 National League seasons.6 A complete list (with the pertinent details) of all the DGSs found is provided in the Appendix to this article, available below. Using these lists of DGSs, I then examined the Play-By-Play (PBP) files on the Baseball-Reference and Retrosheet websites as well as the game descriptions presented in relevant newspapers to obtain the critical details of the game.

RESULTS

According to my research, there were 175 DGS performances in the regular season—including five times when the player merited the “Downtown Platinum Sombrero” (the player struck out five times). There have also been four DGSs in postseason play. Table 3 presents a chronological breakdown by decade of regular-season DGSs 1891–2023.

After a paltry seven DGSs during the 79 seasons from 1891 through 1969, the number of DGSs has increased dramatically in the 54 seasons since 1970—168 more. The twenty-first century has been extraordinarily explosive—112 DGSs in just 23 seasons. And there have already been 29 DGSs in the first four seasons of the 2020s decade (including the pandemic-abbreviated 2020 campaign of only 60 games).

While the main focus of my research effort was to identify the DGS awardees who came through with game-clinching downtowners, I also uncovered a number of other interesting notes. Accordingly, the following topics are presented in the Appendix below:

  • (A-1) The first DGS for each NL and AL franchise
  • (A-2) DGS grand slams
  • (A-3) Players with multiple DGS games
  • (A-4) Players with multiple-homer DGS games
  • (A-5) Players who led off with a homer
  • (A-6) Downtown Platinum Sombrero awardees
  • (A-7) Postseason DGSs

There are two types of last-inning game-winning homer, the “pseudo” walk-offs (hit in the top of the inning) and the “bonafide” walk-offs. For a pseudo walk-off homers, the lead produced by the downtowner has to be protected in the bottom half of the frame. As it has turned out, there have been eight DGSs featuring pseudo walk-offs and nine DGSs with bonafide walk-offs. The 17 DGS players who achieved these phoenix-like performances are highlighted in this article (see Tables 4 and 5).7

 

Tables 3 and 4

(Click image to enlarge)

 

A. THE DGS PLAYERS WITH PSEUDO WALK-OFF DOWNTOWNERS

Willie McCovey of the 1970 San Francisco Giants was the first player to come through with a game-winning downtowner after striking out in four prior at bats. In the game on April 16 against the Astros in Houston, Stretch was K’d in his first four plate appearances—Jim Bouton got him in the first, third, and fifth, while Jack Billingham fanned him in the sixth. In the eighth, Willie Mac drew a base on balls from Fred Gladding. In the top of the tenth, with the game tied, 9–9, McCovey stepped into the batter’s box with Bobby Bonds on third base and two outs. Houston skipper, Harry “The Hat” Walker, made a pitching change from right-hander Dan Osinski to southpaw Jack DiLauro. On DiLauro’s second pitch, McCovey drove the ball downtown, giving the Giants an 11–9 lead, which San-Fran reliever Ron Bryant protected by setting down the Astros 1–2–3 in the bottom of the frame.8

Larry Herndon clouted his phoenix-like downtowner on July 22, 1980. The game-winning blast came in the 15th inning of the game that had started the day before, on July 21, in the Windy City. After having grounded out in his first two trips to the plate, Herndon was struck out by Cubs starter Rick Reuschel in the sixth. In the ninth, Bruce Sutter struck him out. And in the eleventh, Dick Tidrow sent him back to the dugout via the strikeout. The game, still scoreless, was suspended after the twelfth inning and resumed the next day. Facing Bill Caudell in the thirteenth, Herndon struck out to merit the Golden Sombrero. Redemption, however, came in the fifteenth—with one man on and one man out, Herndon took Caudill downtown to give the Giants a 2–0 lead. San Francisco reliever Gary Lavelle gave up a leadoff single in the bottom of the 15th, but then set down the next three batters to secure the win.

Garry Templeton was playing for the San Diego Padres in a game against the Astros in Houston. He had struck out three times against starting pitcher Nolan Ryan and once against reliever Larry Anderson. He also grounded out in the twelfth while facing Rocky Childress. Then, in the top of the 14th, with the game still knotted, 1–1, with two down and the bases empty, Templeton went downtown to give the Padres a 2–1 advantage. San Diego’s mound corps of Dave Leiper and Lance McCullers preserved the victory (despite giving up a couple of hits). After the game, San Diego skipper Larry Bowa was exuberant about Templeton’s downtowner, exclaiming, “Templeton called that home run; can you believe it? He was running around the dugout telling everybody he was going to leave the yard; leave the yard! Told about five people. Can you believe it?” When told what Bowa had said, Templeton replied, “What? I’d have to be some kind of stupid to call my own shot. Especially in this ballpark. All I told everybody was, ‘I’m going to hit the ball hard.’ Maybe it just sounded like ‘yard.’”9

Devon White earned two DGS awards in his big-league career, the first one coming with Arizona in 1998. After not playing at all in the first game of the August 20 twin-bill in Philadelphia, White had “two different games” in the second game of the double header. In his “first game,” White struck out in each of his four at bats—two swinging Ks versus starter Ken Ryan and two looking versus Jerry Spradlin and Yorkis Perez, one each. Then, in his “second game,” with the Diamondbacks trailing by a 4–9 score going into the top of the eighth, White rose from the ashes, hitting a 2-RBI single off Wayne Gomes to make the score 8–9, and then coming around to tally the run that knotted the score, 9–9. After being stranded following a leadoff double off Ricky Bottalico in the tenth, he came to bat in the eleventh with two outs and runners on first and second. Bottalico was still on the hill. The count went to 1 ball, 2 strikes. Instead of becoming a five-time K-victim, White connected for a homer “on a hanging breaking ball which barely cleared the fence in front of the Phillies bullpen.” With a 12–9 lead, D-Backs reliever Alan Embree then held the Phillies scoreless in the bottom of the inning to secure the victory. After his phoenix-like game, White said, “I can’t explain it. I just put the first couple of at bats out of my mind. You can’t think about it; that’s the stuff that wears you down. You keep battling.”10

Alex Gonzalez was baffled by an assortment of breaking pitches, striking out swinging four times in the May 1, 2001, game against the Oakland A’s. The Blue Jays shortstop was victimized three times by forkballer Cory Lidle and once by reliever Jim Mecir. With the game tied, 3–3, in the top of the tenth, Gonzalez stepped in to face Jason Isringhausen. He homered on Isringhausen’s first pitch to give Toronto a 5–4 advantage, which the Toronto bullpen protected in the bottom of the tenth. Here’s what Gonzalez said about his DGS game: “That forkball was giving me trouble tonight. When Isringhausen came in, I knew he has a good fastball, but the forkball isn’t a pitch he has. I was able to put that forkball out of my mind and swing hard.”11

Wladimir Balentien of the Seattle Mariners struck out in his first three at bats against Angels starter Ervin Santana on August 13, 2008. After grounding out in his fourth trip to the plate, he took a called third strike from Darren Oliver in the 10th. Then, in the top of the twelfth, with two down and runners on first and third, he powered a 1–1 pitch from Justin Speier into the seats in deep center field for a home run, giving the M’s a 10–7 lead, which Roy Corcoran converted into a win by tossing a perfect bottom of the 12th.

Mark Reynolds collected three DGSs in his major-league career, his second coming in 2009 with the Diamondbacks, in an 18-inning game in San Diego on June 7. He had face-to-face encounters with seven pitchers … and one infielder. In his first two plate appearances he grounded out (in the 2nd) and drew a base on balls (in the 5th) versus Padres starting pitcher Josh Geer. He also received a free pass (in the 6th) from reliever Joe Thatcher. Then he struck out swinging in his next two trips to the batter’s box, against Cla Meredith (in the 8th) and Heath Bell (in the 10th). In the 12th, with the game still deadlocked, 6–6, Edward Mujica retired him on a flyout. It was back to the swing-and-miss strikeouts again in the 14th (by Luke Gregerson) and 16th (by Chad Gaudin). With San Diego having gone through nine pitchers, manager Bud Black selected infielder Josh Wilson to start the 18th inning. [Wilson had entered the game in the 12th inning in a double-switch.] Wilson—who actually had begun the 2009 season as Reynolds’ teammate on the Diamondbacks before being claimed on waivers by the Padres on May 15—proceeded to retire two D-Backs while giving up a hit and issuing a walk before facing Reynolds. Wilson quickly got Reynolds in an 0–2 hole. But Reynolds managed to work the count full. On the eighth pitch, Reynolds took Wilson downtown, giving Arizona a 9–6 lead, which Leo Rosales saved with a perfect bottom half. After the marathon, Reynolds said, “It’s tough because No. 1, he’s a position player and you don’t want him to get you out, and No. 2, you don’t know what he’s going to throw.” That said, Reynolds did have a small clue: “When he pitched for us [one inning to mop-up a game on May 11] he threw all fastballs, so you figure he has some kind of wrinkle. He threw a curveball up there and I laid off some high fastballs; he left one out over and I was able to barrel it up.”12

Daniel Palka of the 2018 White Sox achieved the most-recent DGS featuring a pseudo walk-off downtowner. In the August 5 game against the Rays, he had struck out swinging in each of his first four at bats—against opener Hunter Wood in the first and bulk-reliever Ryan Yarborough in the third, fifth, and seventh innings. In the top of the ninth, with the game tied, 6–6, he stepped in the batter’s box with two outs and a runner on first to face Diego Castilla, the Rays’ third pitcher of the game. On the first pitch, Palka drove a fly ball deep into the center field stands, giving the ChiSox an 8–6 advantage. Although the bullpen surrendered a run in the bottom of the stanza, Chicago still emerged with the 8–7 triumph. The Chicago Tribune reported, “Palka’s 439-foot bomb came in the ninth, after which he said, ‘I just had to forget the first eight-ninths of the game and move on from there.”13

 

Table 5

 

B. THE DGS PLAYERS WITH BONAFIDE WALK-OFF DOWNTOWNERS

Jim Northrup of the 1971 Detroit Tigers was the first player to manufacture a bonafide walk-off downtown golden sombrero. In the August 1 contest with the visiting Angels, Northrup had gone hitless in his first six trips to the plate—after groundball outs in the first and third, Northrup struck out swinging in his next four at bats, against Dave LaRoche (sixth), Eddie Fisher (eighth), and Lloyd Allen (10th and 13th). In the bottom of the 16th, with the score knotted at 3–3 and one out, Northrup again squared off against Allen. The Detroit Free Press described his rags-to-riches accomplishment thus: “From the sixth inning on, Sunday afternoon, Jim Northrup had one thing on his mind: to hit one out. ‘Why not,’ he reasoned later. ‘We only needed one run so I thought I might as well take a crack at it.’ Four times in a row, Northrup struck out. Finally in the 16th he connected, sending a Lloyd Allen fastball for a ride into the right-centerfield seats.”14 Other newspaper accounts corroborate Northrup’s swing-for-the-fences strategy: “Of course I was going for it,” Northrup said. “I struck out four times in a row. That should tell you something.”15 “I’d been trying to hit a home run all day,” Northrup said. “I guess that’s why I struck out so many times.”16

Mike Schmidt was “mired in the most perplexing slump of his marvelous career,” reported the Philadelphia Inquirer. “And last night [May 28, 1983], it seemed that he had reached the nadir. For when he trudged to the batter’s box in the bottom of the ninth inning, with a runner on second in a tie game, he had seen 12 pitches, and all of them had been strikes. His four strikeouts were one short of the one-game major league record. And, as if it had been scripted by Hollywood, Schmidt took one swing and rammed a two-run homer to left field to give the Phils a stranger-than- fiction 5–3 victory over the Montreal Expos.”17 In his first three at-bats Schmidt was fanned by Montreal starter Charlie Lea, leaving five runners on base. In his fourth at bat, Expos reliever Ray Burris sent him back to the dugout with a backward-K. As noted above, 12 pitches, 12 strikes, 4 strikeouts, an “immaculate” golden sombrero! Then the lucky 13th pitch, the 13th strike—the Downtown Golden Sombrero. Schmidt had this to say after the game: “I’m not answering any questions tonight. I’ll tell you what happened and that’s it. I was totally lost, mentally, as a hitter. I was very determined to hit the first pitch. I would have swung wherever it was. It was a fastball down and over the plate and I was concentrating on swinging down and through it. I hit a home run and I’m glad. But there’s no way of explaining why I was 0-for-whatever or why I struck out four times tonight. Maybe in a few days.”18

Ray Knight of the New York Mets had never faced Houston pitcher Jim Deshaies before they squared off on July 3, 1986, for “Fireworks Night” at Shea Stadium. Knight struck out in each of his three at bats against Deshaies. Then, with game tied, 3–3, and two out, he faced Astros reliever Charlie Kerfeld. “‘I had a great at bat against Kerfeld in the eighth with the go-ahead run on second,’ Knight said. ‘I fouled off about eight pitches.’ But then Knight struck out for the fourth time on a checked swing.”19 The score remained 3–3 going into the 10th. The Expos pushed a pair a runs across to take a 5–3 lead, and brought in Frank DiPino to close out the game. But the Mets immediately touched him for the equalizers: Lenny Dykstra led off with a walk and Darryl Strawberry belted his second homer of the game. DiPino then set down the next two batters, bringing up Knight. Here’s how their fireworks-ending confrontation was described: “‘The first pitch he threw me was a slider down and in for a ball,’ Knight said. ‘Then a changeup away. Then another slider in.’ That last slider was the one that never reached catcher Alan Ashby’s mitt. ‘It was that kind of a game,’ Knight said. ‘Amazing.’”20

David Justice had struck four times swinging during the regulation nine innings of the Yankees-Red Sox game on April 22, 2001, in the Bronx—the first three as a victim of Boston starter Tomo Ohka, the fourth time courtesy of reliever Rod Beck. With the game tied, 2–2, after nine innings, the BoSox took a 3–2 lead in the top of the tenth. The Bronx Bombers answered in Ruthian style. After Derek Jeter was retired to open the bottom half, Paul O’Neill tied the score with a solo homer off Derek Lowe that just made it into the right-field short porch. Then, after Bernie Williams was retired for the second out, Justice stepped to the plate and deposited Lowe’s first pitch into the seats for the walk-off. Justice told the Daily News, “It wasn’t like I was comfortable today, but I was trying to put all that out of my mind. I had thought I don’t want to see a curveball with all the shadows coming, so when I got a first-pitch fastball, I swung. The pitch was right there.”21 Lowe had reportedly missed his spot: “Lowe said that he knew Justice loves fastballs but his sinker just stayed up and over the plate.”22 “I’m just glad it turned out that way,” Justice said, “because those first four at bats weren’t pretty.”23

Evan Longoria became the first player to go downtown twice in the same golden sombrero game. He achieved this feat with the Tampa Bay Rays on August 4, 2009, in a game against the visiting Red Sox. Boston’s starting pitcher, Jon Lester, K’d Longoria in each of their three confrontations, swinging. Then in the eighth, with the BoSox leading, 2–1, Longoria temporarily avoided getting the golden sombrero by leading off the inning with a homer off reliever Daniel Bard, making the score 2–2. Longoria again avoided the golden sombrero in the ninth inning when he was intentionally walked by Ramon Ramirez. In the eleventh, Jonathon Papelbon fanned Longoria to award him the Golden Sombrero, but in the bottom half of the 13th, with Takashi Saito on the mound, the Rays got a runner on with two outs, setting the stage for Longoria. After a first-pitch ball, Longoria went downtown. “It was such a long game, a tough game to stay into mentally,” said Longoria. “I was just looking for something to hit.”24 “Longoria came up half-expecting to be given first base. ‘It was in the back of my mind,’ Longoria said. ‘I thought they might walk me and Zobrist to force an out at every base, but I’m happy the way it turned out.’ Saito started Longoria with a ball then threw him a 1-and-0 91-miles-per-hour fast ball. ‘He just left the ball up in the zone,’ Longoria said.”25

Brandon Moss became the second DGS player to go downtown twice in his golden sombrero game. On April 29, 2013, in a game in Oakland, with the Athletics hosting the Angels, Moss had nine plate appearances, as it took 19 innings to achieve the final verdict. He singled in his first at bat (in the second inning) and struck out swinging in his second at bat (in the fourth). In his third at bat, he slugged a solo homer off starting pitcher Tommy Hanson, which cut the A’s deficit to four runs, 6–2. Moss, facing Dane De La Rosa, grounded out in the eighth. In the ninth, he had his second swinging strikeout thanks to Ernesto Frieri, to end the regulation portion of the game with the score knotted, 7–7. In extras, Moss had each of the Three True Outcomes—facing Jerome Williams, he walked in the 12th and struck out swinging in the 14th. Then, after each team scored a run in the 15th, making the score 8–8, Moss put on the Golden Sombrero, courtesy of Michael Kohn. Finally, in the 19th, with one man on and two men out, facing Barry Enright, Moss connected for the circuit on an 0–1 pitch, giving the Athletics a 10–8 triumph. Moss said afterward, “It was a crazy game and I’m glad it’s over. That was exhausting; it really was. You just keep fighting through and keep hoping they throw the ball into your bat. I don’t even know how I hit it. I was so late on everything after the 10th inning on. If it was thigh-high or up I couldn’t catch it, so I was just trying to get anything down in the zone.”26

Derek Norris hit the jackpot with his walk-off DGS performance on May 29, 2015. With his Padres hosting the Pirates, Norris struck out swinging in each of his first four at bats—three times on the twirls of starting pitcher Francisco Liriano and once on the offerings of relief hurler Arquimedes Caminero. Then, in the bottom of the ninth, with the score deadlocked, 2–2, with two outs and the bases jammed, he drove a 1–0 pitch from Rob Scahill downtown in deep left-center field, giving San Diego a 10–6 victory—Norris became the first (and still only) DGS player to hit a game- ending game-winning grand slam home run.

Victor Caratini of the Milwaukee Brewers achieved his walk-off DGS clout in the game against the visiting Chicago Cubs on July 4, 2022. He was struck out swinging in each of his first four at bats, three times by starting pitcher Justin Steel and once by reliever David Robertson. Then, in the bottom of the tenth, with the score tied, 2–2, Caratini stepped into the batter’s box with runners on second and first and two down. With a 2–1 count, Caratini took Scott Effross downtown, blasting the ball on a line into the center-field seats. Here’s what Caratini said afterwards (through a translator): “It’s a really hard sport. You know you’re going to fail. It’s just a matter of staying confident, going to the next at bat, knowing that you’ve got another at bat and have got to be able to fight it, help the team win, and move on from there.”27

Adolis Garcia of the Texas Rangers is the most recent player to come through in phoenix fashion in a game against the visiting Minnesota Twins on September 3, 2023. Mired in a horrible slump (batting .153 in his previous 15 games), he was K’d in each of his first four plate appearances—his strike-three swings-and-misses being on “a slider away” (from Kenta Maeda in the first inning with one out and runners on first and second); “a high fastball” (from Maeda in the second inning with two outs and runners on first and third), “another high fastball” (from Maeda leading off in the fifth inning); and “a fastball up-and-away” (from Cole Sands in the sixth inning with two outs and runners on second and third). In his fifth trip to the plate, leading off against Josh Winder, Garcia “belted a 2–2 fastball—one that ran inside and belt-high—430 feet into the second level in left field” for a game-winning homer. “García declined to speak with reporters in the clubhouse afterward. His teammate Mitch Garver nailed the sentiment, though: ‘For him to come out there, stay with it and just keep going forward and get the result that he did, couldn’t be happier for him.’ Rangers manager Bruce Bochy said, ‘He’s not feeling good about his day at that point. And he got ahold of one. Good for him, good for us.’”28 “I’ve got to give a shoutout to Adolis because I’ve been there, man,” Garver said. “I’ve punched out four times in a game, and you really don’t want that fifth at-bat. And for him to come out there and do what he did … it was super impressive.” “That’s a lot of pressure on you, especially when you’re up there with two strikes,” Bochy said.29

 

Table 6

 

C. THE DGS PLAYERS WHOSE GAME-SAVING DOWNTOWNERS AVERTED IMMINENT DEFEAT

The nine DGS players listed above achieved their bonafide walk-off downtowners with the score tied, and the same goes for the pseudo walk-offs in the section above. None of the 17 game-winning DGS downtowners mentioned so far seized victory from the jaws of defeat. According to my research, there have been just three DGS players whose clutch downtowners were critical in preventing an impending defeat—at least temporarily. (See Table 6.)

Willie Stargell became the first DGS player to come through with a clutch downtowner in a critical do- or-die situation. In the game on July 15, 1971, between the host Pirates and the visiting Padres, Stargell had been struck out by San Diego’s starting pitcher Dave Roberts in each of his first four at bats. After the regulation nine innings, the game was tied, 1–1. Stargell snapped his string of strikeouts in the 11th inning by flying out. The score didn’t change until the 13th, when San Diego took a 2–1 lead. In the Pittsburgh half of the frame, after the Padres hurler, Al Severinsen, had struck out the first two batters, Stargell responded to the make-it-or-break-it situation by taking Severinsen downtown to knot the score, 2–2. The Pirates eventually won the game in the 17th, 4–3.

Ray Lankford became the very first player in the NL or AL to achieve a Downtown Platinum Sombrero. Significantly, his downtowner was critical in saving his team from defeat. The game took place on August 8, 1998, between the host St. Louis Cardinals and the guest Chicago Cubs. Lankford struck out the first five times he batted—the first three on the offerings of Cubs starting pitcher Mark Clark (in the second [looking], fourth [swinging], and sixth [swinging]). He also struck out swinging versus Felix Heredia (in the seventh) and Terry Mulholland (in the ninth). At the conclusion of the regulation nine innings, the Cards and Cubs were tied, 5–5. Chicago took the lead, 7–5, in the top of the 11th. Closer Rod Beck was then brought in to save the win for the Cubs. St. Louis proceeded to get a man on with two outs. The next batter, Lankford, was therefore confronted with a do-or-die challenge. Beck’s first pitch to Lankford was called a ball. Beck’s second offering was sent downtown by Lankford, re-knotting the score, 7–7. Here’s what was reported in the newspapers: “Rod Beck threw Lankford a split- fingered fast-ball that Lankford blasted for a game-tying, two-out, two-run homer. ‘I’d probably throw it again,’ Beck said. ‘There’s not a lot of secrets between Lankford and me. We’ve known each other for a long time. It didn’t work out for me. I didn’t think he hit it that good.’”30 “I’ll tell you what, I was nervous,” said Lankford. “I’m not going to lie. But I know what Beck throws me, a lot of off-speed pitches. He got one up and I was able to drive it out of the ballpark. It was a great feeling and it’s even greater that we won the ballgame.”31 Lankford also said, “I struck out five times, so I didn’t think it could get any worse. I didn’t have anything to lose.”32 So, Lankford’s downtowner warded off an impending defeat and allowed the game to continue.

The Cubs and Cards then played two more innings, each team plating a run in the 12th, keeping the game tied, 8–8. In the bottom of the 13th, St. Louis emerged victorious as Lankford came through with a bases-loaded single to drive in the game-winning run. “Lankford was down in the count, 1–2, and feared a sixth strikeout, which would have tied a major league record. ‘That was kind of scary,’ Lankford said. ‘With two strikes, I said, Ray, come on now; put the ball in play.’”33 Speaking about Lankford’s early struggles with the bat and his five strikeouts, Cardinals manager Tony LaRussa said, “Lankford told me he was swinging like he had a hole in his bat.”34 Summing up his day, Lankford said, “The first couple of at bats, I was swinging like I was clueless. It was the worst. But no matter what’s going on in the game, you still have to be positive. I was able to go out there and fight all those demons off.”35 “I think this was one of the best ballgames I’ve played in, in a long time.”36

Sammy Sosa was the second player to “earn” a Downtown Platinum Sombrero. In a crosstown battle in Chicago between the White Sox and the visiting Cubs, Sosa struck out swinging in his first four plate appearances—twice versus starter Kip Wells and once each against Sean Lowe and Bob Howry. In the top of the ninth, the Cubs trailed the Sox, 5–3. The Cubs proceeded to get a man on with two outs, bringing Sosa to the plate, facing Keith Foulke. On an 0–1 pitch, Sosa went downtown to tie the score, 5–5, and prevent an imminent defeat. Unfortunately, these heroics were not enough: the Pale Hose emerged victorious, 6–5, when they pushed across the game-winning run in the bottom of the 14th inning. Meanwhile, Sosa converted his Downtown Golden Sombrero into a Downtown Platinum Sombrero by striking out against Bill Simas in the 12th.

CONCLUSION

Of the 175 regular-season Downtown Golden Sombreros (including the five platinum editions) that have been produced during the 1891–2023 period, 20 featured a key home run—eight pseudo walk-off homers, nine bonafide walk-off homers, and three do-or-die game-saving homers that warded off imminent defeat (at least temporarily). Since the most important objective for every player is helping his team win the game, the seventeen DGS players included in Tables 4 and 5 certainly contributed to the victories their teams achieved—their downtowners provided the actual game-winning runs. Likewise for two of the three DGS players listed in Table 6—their game-saving downtowners warded off impending defeat which allowed their teams to ultimately emerge triumphantly.

As the rate of baseball’s Three True Outcomes has steadily risen, so has the number of Downtown Golden Sombreros (as shown in Table 3), affording more sombrero-wearers the opportunity for phoenix-like performances.37

During 1969–2023, 17 walk-offs occurred, eight pseudo walk-off homers and nine bonafide walk-offs. Looking down the road, who will be the first DGS player to rise from the ashes of his four strikeouts by hitting a walk-off downtowner that snatches victory from the jaws of defeat? 

HERM KRABBENHOFT, a SABR member since 1981, is a retired re- search chemist. His numerous baseball research accomplishments include: (a) Restoring the 1912 NL Triple Crown to Heinie Zimmerman; (b) Establishing, in collaboration with Keith Carlson, David Newman, and Dixie Tourangeau, the accurate Major League record for most runs scored in a single season by an individual player—Billy Hamilton, 196 runs for Philadelphia in 1894; (c) Determining the longest consecutive games on base safely streak in Major League history— 84 games by Ted Williams in 1949; (d) Creating, in collaboration with Jim Smith and Steve Boren, the definitive SBK Triple Play Database. Herm is the author of Leadoff Batters published by McFarland in 2001. Krabbenhoft has been the recipient of three SABR Baseball Research Awards (1992, 1996, 2013).

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Grateful thanks are extended to Baseball-Reference for its Stathead search engine and PBP details, and to Retrosheet for its PBP narratives. And, as mentioned in note 6, special thanks are gratefully extended to Dave Smith, Pete Palmer, and Jonathan Frankel for their very important contributions to my research effort. I should also like to express my thanks to Jeff Robbins, Gary Stone, and Patrick Todgham for helpful discussions.

 

NOTES

1 The “Three True Outcomes” are the walk, strikeout, and home run. See David Firstman, “The Growth of Three True Outcomes: From Usenet Joke to Baseball Flashpoint,” Baseball Research Journal (Volume 47, Number 1, Spring 2018), 29-37.

2 Baseball-Reference.com: Home, Seasons, League Index, National League, Batting, League Year-By-Year Batting—Totals, 1949; 2019.

3 The 1949-2019 period was chosen for the illustration because it is composed of 70 consecutive fundamentally equivalent seasons. The National League was chosen (rather than the American League or the combined NL and AL) because the NL did not use the designated hitter (which was used in the AL beginning in 1973). The 2019 season was chosen as the “end-season” because the 2020 season was abbreviated to a 60-game schedule. The 1949 season was chosen as the “start- season” (rather than the 1929 or 1939 seasons) because of the World War Two affected seasons of 1942-45.

4 Paul Dickson, The Dickson Baseball Dictionary, Third Edition, (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2009), 373-74.

5 My interest in players who assembled the combination of striking out four times and slugging a homer in the same game was inspired by Khris “Krush” Davis. I attended the game between the Royals and the Athletics at the Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum on August 16, 2017, in which Davis struck out in his first four plate appearances—first (K), third (K), fifth (backward-K), and seventh (K). In the bottom of the ninth, with Kansas City leading by a 7-6 score, Davis came to bat with one out and nobody on. I hoped that he would atone for his four strikeouts by homering, but alas, he flied out to center field, “FO-8.” (Had the drive been caught on the warning track, I would have entered “WT” on my scorecard. ) While Davis did not achieve the combo of four strikeouts and one homer, my curiosity was motivated to conduct the research to find out which players did.

6 Special thanks to Dave Smith (Retrosheet) for providing Excel spreadsheets of the ICI sheets for the 1891-1900 National League seasons. Special thanks also to Pete Palmer for his guidance on the strikeout information presented—and missing—in the ICI sheets: “ICI is missing a lot of batter strikeouts, especially 1896-1909 (1912 AL). And of course, there are no ICI sheets for 1876-1890 NL.” Thus, for the 1891-1900 period there may be additional players who produced a Downtown Golden Sombrero. Thus, thanks to Jonathan Frankel for providing his independent research results on batter-strikeouts for the 1897-1900 National League seasons. Frankel’s in-depth research revealed seven instances of a player having four or more strikeouts in a single game whereas the ICI sheets indicated that there were only five instances of a player having four or more strikeouts in a single game. The two missing instances in the ICI sheets are: (i) Pete Dowling of Louisville on August 15, 1899; the ICI sheets show Dowling with 3 strikeouts. (ii) Noodles Hahn of Cincinnati on July 8, 1900; the ICI sheets show Hahn with no strikeouts (i.e., a blank cell). See also: Jonathan Frankel, “1899 National League Strikeouts,” Baseball Research Journal (Volume 36, 2007), 46-52.

7 There is also a sub-class of pseudo walk-off homers—those hit by the home team in the bottom of eighth inning, thereby necessitating the closer to shut down the visiting team in the top of the ninth; none of the DGS players had such a pseudo walk-off homer.

8 Willie McCovey had only one other golden sombrero in his 22-year career (1959-80; 2588 games, 521 dingers, 1550 K’s). His other golden sombrero came in a 21-inning game in which he had 9 plate appearances. For comparison, Giancarlo Stanton has already had 27 golden sombreros (tied for the most in major-league history with Ryan Howard) in the first 14 years of his career (2010-23; 1535 games, 402 homers, 1820 K’s). So far, Stanton has only one downtown golden sombrero.

9 Bill Plaschke, “Padres Win in 14 Innings, 2-1, and Grab Share of Fifth Place,” Los Angeles Times, September 20, 1987, 79.

10 Ted Silary, “Great, Scott, but Phils split,” Philadelphia Daily News, August 21, 1998, 130; “Dramatic homer lifts team to split,” Tucson Citizen, August 21, 1998, 50.

11 “Gonzalez gives Jays a win with homer in the tenth,” Alberni Valley (British Columbia, CN) Times, May 2, 2001, 7.

12 Bernie Wilson, “Reynolds saves only hit for last in majors’ longest game of year,” Arizona Daily Star, June 8, 2009, B2.

13 Teddy Greenstein, “Sox’s ‘Eloy watch’ keeps on ticking,” Chicago Tribune, August 6, 2018, 3-3.

14 Jim Hawkins, “Northrup HR Wins in 16th,” Detroit Free Press, August 2, 1971, 35.

15 Richard L. Shook, “Tigers win in 16 innings 4-3—Northrup homers to break up another thriller,” UPI story, Battle Creek (Michigan) Enquirer, August 2, 1971, 10.

16 “Northrup Finally Succeeds With Homer In 16th,” AP story, Hillsdale (Michigan) Daily News, August 2, 1971, 8.

17 Peter Pascarelli, “Schmidt ends two slumps on one blow,” Philadelphia Inquirer, May 29, 1983, 47.

18 Ray Finocchiaro, “Schmidt homer in ninth lifts Phillies,” The (Wilmington, DE) Morning News, May 29, 1983, 43.

19 Jack Lang, “Comeback of the Knight,” Daily News, July 4, 1986, 46.

20 Jim Naughton, “Extra fireworks,” Daily News, July 4, 1986, 46.

21 Anthony McCarron, “Yanks flex muscle in 10th,” Daily News, April 23, 2001, 64.

22 Darren Everson, “Defeat leaves Red Sox closer down in the dumps,” Daily News, April 23, 2001, 64.

23 David Lennon, “A Rally Good Win,” Newsday April 23, 2001, 44.

24 Marc Lancaster, “Longo ends long game,” Tampa Tribune, August 5, 2009, 17.

25 Adam Kilgore, “Sting Ray,” Boston Globe, August 5, 2009, C1.

26 “Two games in one: Brandon Moss hits second homer in 19th inning, A’s outlast Angels 10-8,” Whitehorse (Yukon, CN) Daily Star, April 30, 2013, 19.

27 Steve Megaree, “Caratini walks off with homer,” Wisconsin State Journal, July 5, 2022, B1.

28 Shawn McFarland, “What Adolis Garcia’s series-salvaging walk-off means as Rangers prepare to host Astros,” Dallas Morning News, September 3, 2023, https://www.dallasnews.com/sports/rangers/2023/09/03/what-dolis-garcias-series-salvaging-walk-off-means-as-rangers-prepare-to-host-astros/.

29 Kennedi Landry “4 K’s? Who cares?! Adolis belts mammoth walk-off homer,” September 3, 2023, https://www.mlb.com/news/adolis-garcia-hits-walk-off-home-run-vs-twins.

30 Paul Sullivan, “McGwire’s biggest cheerleader? Sosa,” Chicago Tribune, August 9, 1998, section 3, 4.

31 Joe Ostermeier, “Cards fizzle; Rams fizzle,” Belleville (Illinois) News-Democrat, August 9, 1998, D1.

32 David Wilhelm, “Cardinals find 13th lucky,” Belleville (Illinois) News-Democrat, August 9, 1998, D1.

33 Rick Hummel, “Rallies, homers, spice 13-inning epic,” St Louis Post-Dispatch, August 9, 1998, F1.

34 Jim Salter (Associated Press), “Lankford outshines sluggers as Cardinals fight off Cubs,” Lexington (Kentucky) Herald-Leader, August 9, 1998, C5.

35 Rick Hummel, “Rallies, homers…”

36 Ostermeier, “Cards fizzle.”

37 Jayson Stark and Eno Sarris, “MLB’s ‘Three True Outcomes’ are all down for the first time in 17 years. Why?,” The Athletic, July 21, 2022 (accessed November 9, 2022).



APPENDICES: OTHER INTERESTING ASPECTS FOR PLAYERS WITH DGS AWARDS

A-1. PLAYERS WITH THE FIRST DGS FOR VARIOUS FRANCHISES

Table A-1 provides, in chronological order, a list of the first DGS achieved by various franchises. Some franchises did not have any of their players achieve a DGS—for example, the Boston Braves, Philadelphia Athletics, Seattle Pilots, or Montreal Expos.

 

Table 1A

Table A-1 reveals that it took nearly a century for a St. Louis Cardinals player to achieve a DGS. There had been 89 golden sombreros by players on the Redbirds 1901–96 before Ron Gant earned the DGS in late 1996. That was the longest DGS incubation period for any of the eight franchises comprising the NL at the beginning of the twentieth century. Similarly, the original AL Washington Senators did not have any of their players accomplish a DGS 1901–60. It was not until 44 years after the franchise shifted to Minneapolis and became the Twins, that Jacque Jones collected the first DGS for the Nationals-Senators-Twins in 2004. There were 107 golden sombreros by Nationals-Senators-Twins players before Jones homered for the DGS. Six of the 34 players included in Table A-1 are Hall of Famers—Frank Robinson, Duke Snider, Willie McCovey, Mike Schmidt, Jim Rice, and Harold Baines.


A-2. DGS PLAYERS WITH GRAND SLAM HOMERS In addition to the jackpot wallop by Derek Norris shown in Table 5, five other players compensated for their four strikeouts with four-run homers. Table A-2 shows the first two jackpot DGSs were slugged by Reggie Jackson when he played for the Angels. He’s the only player with a pair of bases-loaded DGSs. Here are some of things Mr. October said about his first jackpot DGS performance: “I know I struck out [four times] but you have to keep plugging. I finally got something good to hit.”1 The 0 had this headline—“One swing wipes out Reggie’s four Ks.” In the article, Jackson stated, “As much as I strike out, I think I pay for my hits.” Seattle manager Rene Lachmann added, “We struck him out four times and he gets four RBIs—four big ones.”2 Since the Angels defeated the Mariners 11–9, Jackson’s 4-run downtowner was vital for the victory. Jackson also added, “I was lucky. The kid [Ed Vande Berg] made a mistake. I earned that S.O.B tonight.”3

 

A2

While Reggie was the first (and still the only) player with two bases-loaded DGS performances, he was not the first player to accumulate a pair of DGS awards. That distinction was claimed by Dave Kingman.


A-3. PLAYERS WITH MULTIPLE DGS GAMES

Table A-3a. Players with Two DGS Performances

Table A-3a provides a list of “all” the players who accumulated a pair of DGS awards. In addition to the dozen players with a pair of DGS games, there have been three players with three or more DGS performances; they’re listed in Table A-3b. Ryan Howard has the most DGSs—five.

A3

Table A-3b. Players with Three or More DGS Performances

A3B


A-4. PLAYERS WITH MULTIPLE HOMERS IN THEIR DGS GAMES Four players went downtown twice in their DGS games. As described previously, for two of these players—Evan Longoria and Brandon Moss—their second downtowner was a last-inning, game-winning bonafide walk-off home run.

A4


TABLE A-5. DGS PLAYERS WITH GAME-STARTING LEADOFF HOMERS Seven players started their DGS game with a leadoff home run and then suffered four strikeouts. In fact, two of the players endured five subsequent strikeouts—Brian Dozier and Dexter Fowler—thereby meriting downtown platinum sombrero awards.

A5


A-6. PLAYERS WHO EARNED THE DOWNTOWN PLATINUM SOMBRERO AWARD Five players have merited downtown platinum sombrero awards.

A6


A-7. PLAYERS WHO ACHIEVED A DOWNTOWN GOLDEN SOMBRERO IN THE POSTSEASON Only four players have merited a DGS award in post-season play. The first one was achieved by Wayne Garrett in the 1973 World Series. It remains the only DGS in the Fall Classic. While there have not yet been any DGSs in the League Championship Series, there have been three DGSs in League Division Series. Of particular interest are the two in the 1996 ALDS—Bobby Bonilla and Rafael Palmeiro achieved their DGSs in the same game. They each went downtown in their first at bat and then struck out four times. Interestingly, they went downtown in back-to-back fashion. Palmeiro, batting clean-up, and Bonilla, batting in the fifth slot, took Cleveland’s Charles Nagy downtown in the second inning of the fourth game. Bonilla then struck out in his next four at bats before flying out in his sixth at bat; Palmeiro struck out in his next three at bats before flying out in his fifth at bat and striking out in his sixth at bat.

A7

 

NOTES

1 “Reggie’s slam paces Angels,” Tulare (California) Advance-Register, August 7, 1982, 6.

2 “One swing wipes out Reggie’s four Ks,” San Francisco Examiner, August 7, 1982, C3.

3 Mark Wallace, “Jackson, Kelleher key Angels over M’s, 11–9,” The (Tacoma) News Tribune, August 7, 1982, B1.



SUPPLEMENT—Details for DGS Players (1891-2023)

Explanatory Notes for the Tables: (1) In the “#” column, when the number is bracketed with asterisks it indicates that the player’s downtowner provided runs equivalent to the margin of victory. (2) In the “Player (GS)” column, the (GS) gives the number of Golden Sombreros the player had in his ML career. (3) In the “HR I (BR)” column, the I gives the inning and (BR) gives the number of baserunners. (4) The “IS” column gives the Initial Score, i.e., the score immediately after the home run hitter crossed the plate. (5) The “FS” column gives the final score of the game; if it was an extra-inning game, the inning is shown in parentheses. (5) In the “K” columns the entries give the inning of the strikeout and (the number of men on base at the time of the strikeout).

 

Table S-1. Players Who Achieved a Downtown Golden Sombrero—1891-1969

S1


Table S-2. Players Who Achieved a Downtown Golden Sombrero—1970-1979.

S2


Table S-3. Players Who Achieved a Downtown Golden Sombrero—1980-1989.

S3


Table S-4. Players Who Achieved a Downtown Golden Sombrero—1990-1999.

S4

Notes: (1) Lankford had five (5) strikeouts, his fifth being in the ninth inning with one man on.


Table S-5a. Players Who Achieved a Downtown Golden Sombrero—2000-2004

S5a

Notes: (1) Sosa had five (5) strikeouts, his fifth being in the twelfth inning with nobody on.


Table S-5b. Players Who Achieved a Downtown Golden Sombrero—2005-2009.

S5B


Table S-6a. Players Who Achieved a Downtown Golden Sombrero—2010-2014.

S6A


Table S-6b. Players Who Achieved a Downtown Golden Sombrero—2015-2019.

S6B

Notes: (1) Dozier had five (5) strikeouts, his fifth being in the eleventh inning with nobody on. (2) Fowler had five (5) strikeouts, his fifth being in the nineteenth inning with one man on.


Table S-7a. Players Who Achieved a Downtown Golden Sombrero—2020-2022

S7A

Notes: (1) Tauchman had five (5) strikeouts, his fifth being in the twelfth inning with one man on.


Table S-7b. Players Who Achieved a Downtown Golden Sombrero—2023

S7B


Table S-8. Players Who Achieved a Downtown Golden Sombrero in the Postseason

S8B

 
Editor’s Note: This supplement was compiled before Adolis García struck out four times in Game Six of the 2023 ALCS and then hit a grand slam in the Texas Rangers’ 9-2 win over the Houston Astros. He became the first player with a DGS in a nine-inning game in the postseason, and also the first player to have a DGS in both the regular season (see line 175) and the postseason of the same year.
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Appendix 1: Player Win Averages https://sabr.org/journal/article/appendix-1-player-win-averages/ Wed, 16 Mar 2016 00:24:11 +0000 This appendix accompanies the article “Player Win Averages” written by Pete Palmer and published in the Spring 2016 Baseball Research Journal.

To scroll down to pitchers, click here.

 

Player Win Averages-Batters

Player Games PW RW
Barry Bonds 2986 120.3 123.2
Henry Aaron 3298 97.2 94.6
Willie Mays 2992 95.7 87.5
Mickey Mantle 2401 92.4 92.3
Ted Williams 1706 75.0 85.2
Stan Musial 2571 71.5 77.4
Rickey Henderson 3081 71.3 67.9
Albert Pujols 2274 69.3 68.0
Willie McCovey 2588 66.6 56.2
Frank Robinson 2808 64.3 69.5
Frank Thomas 2322 62.5 74.3
Alex Rodriguez 2719 60.8 71.1
Manny Ramirez 2302 57.2 68.6
Eddie Mathews 2391 57.1 60.2
Joe Morgan 2649 57.1 59.1
Miguel Cabrera 1938 56.3 55.9
Gary Sheffield 2576 56.2 55.7
Mark McGwire 1874 54.4 56.6
Reggie Jackson 2820 53.4 57.4
Jeff Bagwell 2150 53.2 59.3
George Brett 2707 52.8 52.5
Harmon Killebrew 2435 52.7 48.8
Billy Williams 2488 52.4 46.9
Chipper Jones 2499 52.3 57.9
Al Kaline 2834 52.3 50.0
Jim Thome 2543 51.7 63.1
Jason Giambi 2260 51.1 57.2
Eddie Murray 3026 50.7 50.5
Willie Stargell 2360 49.7 52.2
Tony Gwynn 2440 48.7 43.9
Carl Yastrzemski 3308 48.7 50.5
Edgar Martinez 2055 47.8 53.4
Mike Schmidt 2404 47.6 51.1
Lance Berkman 1879 46.3 48.2
David Ortiz 2257 45.8 46.9
Will Clark 1976 45.1 41.7
Bobby Abreu 2425 44.6 49.4
Dick Allen 1749 44.2 40.8
Ken Griffey 2671 44.2 48.9
Rafael Palmeiro 2831 43.2 49.5
Rod Carew 2469 43.1 48.0
Duke Snider 2143 42.9 45.7
Dave Winfield 2973 42.4 43.4
Carlos Delgado 2035 42.3 44.5
Roberto Clemente 2433 42.2 36.7
Tim Raines 2502 41.8 40.6
Larry Walker 1988 41.6 40.0
Vladimir Guerrero 2147 41.3 38.7
Pete Rose 3562 40.3 41.1
Fred McGriff 2460 39.5 43.8
Paul Molitor 2683 39.4 41.6
Yogi Berra 2120 39.0 36.5
Frank Howard 1895 38.5 33.7
Todd Helton 2247 37.1 40.9
Minnie Minoso 1835 36.4 34.2
Wade Boggs 2440 36.3 44.5
Boog Powell 2042 36.2 36.7
Brian Giles 1847 36.1 38.8
Joey Votto 1110 35.7 33.4
Mike Piazza 1912 35.4 41.3
Rusty Staub 2951 35.2 35.3
Tony Perez 2777 35.1 31.6
Darrell Evans 2687 34.9 32.5
Reggie Smith 1987 34.9 32.1
Harold Baines 2830 34.8 35.4
Jack Clark 1994 34.7 36.8
Ralph Kiner 1472 34.5 34.5
John Olerud 2234 34.4 38.9
Jimmy Wynn 1920 33.2 29.6
Norm Cash 2089 32.9 36.9
Mark Grace 2245 32.8 26.9
Prince Fielder 1522 32.2 30.8
Orlando Cepeda 2124 32.1 33.1
Derek Jeter 2747 32.1 37.7
Carlos Beltran 2306 32.0 34.3
Bobby Bonds 1849 32.0 32.4
Joe Torre 2209 32.0 30.1
Adrian Gonzalez 1648 31.9 32.5
Matt Holliday 1663 31.9 34.4
Dwight Evans 2606 31.6 33.1
Keith Hernandez 2088 31.6 33.1
Dave Parker 2466 31.2 32.1
Ken Singleton 2082 30.3 30.0
Jose Canseco 1887 29.9 31.7
Larry Doby 1533 29.9 32.4
Kent Hrbek 1747 29.9 27.2
Jim Edmonds 2011 29.7 31.2
Vic Wertz 1862 29.6 27.5
Lou Whitaker 2390 29.1 28.9
Darryl Strawberry 1583 28.7 32.0
Enos Slaughter 1714 28.3 27.4
Bobby Murcer 1908 28.2 22.8
David Wright 1546 28.1 27.6
Albert Belle 1539 27.6 33.5
Cesar Cedeno 2006 27.6 23.2
Mark Teixeira 1746 27.5 36.1
Ryan Howard 1460 27.4 24.5
Scott Rolen 2038 27.2 26.0
Bob Watson 1832 27.2 28.0
Bernie Williams 2076 27.0 28.5
Kirby Puckett 1783 26.8 26.0
Eric Davis 1626 26.7 24.0
Roberto Alomar 2379 26.6 29.2
Jackie Robinson 1382 26.3 25.8
Jose Cruz 2353 26.2 25.5
Ken Griffey 2097 25.9 21.3
Craig Biggio 2850 25.5 27.2
Greg Luzinski 1821 25.5 25.2
Roy White 1881 25.5 21.2
Brian Downing 2344 25.3 29.4
Johnny Bench 2158 25.1 28.0
Pedro Guerrero 1536 25.1 27.2
Ryan Braun 1219 24.6 27.4
Ted Simmons 2456 24.3 26.2
Ron Fairly 2442 24.1 23.3
Don Mattingly 1785 24.0 24.1
Toby Harrah 2155 23.7 19.8
Ernie Banks 2528 23.6 26.9
Andre Dawson 2627 23.5 19.1
Joe Mauer 1456 23.5 28.8
Ron Santo 2243 23.5 21.1
Fred Lynn 1969 23.3 27.2
Andrew McCutchen 1037 23.2 22.4
Moises Alou 1942 23.1 30.3
Rico Carty 1651 23.0 24.4
Tony Oliva 1676 23.0 25.7
Gene Woodling 1788 23.0 25.1
David Justice 1610 22.9 26.1
Sal Bando 2019 22.8 21.8
Rocky Colavito 1841 22.7 25.2
Barry Larkin 2180 22.7 21.9
Jim Rice 2089 22.5 23.3
Kirk Gibson 1635 22.4 22.9
Ted Kluszewski 1718 22.3 21.5
Roger Maris 1463 22.2 22.4
Aramis Ramirez 2194 22.2 17.1
Juan Gonzalez 1689 22.1 26.4
Gene Tenace 1555 22.1 26.4
Robin Yount 2856 22.1 28.8
Luis Gonzalez 2591 22.0 25.6
Amos Otis 1998 22.0 18.5
Steve Garvey 2332 21.8 21.9
Wally Joyner 2033 21.6 25.1
Sammy Sosa 2354 21.6 30.6
Mickey Vernon 1894 21.6 21.7
Cecil Cooper 1896 21.5 24.0
Jeff Kent 2298 21.4 28.7
Chase Utley 1585 21.4 23.9
Ryan Klesko 1736 21.3 27.0
Ben Oglivie 1754 21.2 14.3
Tony Phillips 2161 21.1 21.9
Jose Bautista 1403 21.0 19.9
Andres Galarraga 2257 20.9 19.4
Al Oliver 2368 20.8 25.6
Ken Boyer 2034 20.7 16.4
George Foster 1977 20.7 22.0
John Kruk 1200 20.5 19.1
Tim Salmon 1672 20.5 30.5
Bill Madlock 1806 20.4 19.6
Joe DiMaggio 757 20.3 23.1
Paul O’Neill 2053 20.3 22.7
Ellis Burks 2000 20.1 24.6
Shin-Soo Choo 1125 20.1 21.9
Gil Hodges 2070 20.1 22.2
Mike Hargrove 1666 20.0 21.6
Danny Tartabull 1406 19.8 23.6
Roy Sievers 1887 19.7 20.3
Bobby Grich 2008 19.6 22.6
J.D. Drew 1566 19.4 18.9
Ferris Fain 1151 19.4 16.6
Oscar Gamble 1584 19.4 18.4
Johnny Damon 2490 19.3 20.7
Josh Hamilton 1027 19.3 17.0
Mo Vaughn 1512 19.3 28.2
Chili Davis 2436 19.1 25.2
Bobby Bonilla 2113 18.7 21.6
Al Rosen 1044 18.7 22.3
Joe Cunningham 1141 18.6 15.3
Victor Martinez 1579 18.6 20.5
Dale Murphy 2180 18.5 20.9
Ryne Sandberg 2164 18.5 18.6
Cliff Johnson 1369 18.3 14.6
Eddie Yost 2102 18.3 15.2
Derrek Lee 1942 18.2 17.4
Adam Dunn 2001 18.1 22.5
Kenny Lofton 2103 18.1 16.9
Ray Lankford 1701 17.8 18.5
Lee May 2071 17.8 14.8
Dusty Baker 2039 17.7 15.7
Sid Gordon 1329 17.7 19.9
Rusty Greer 1027 17.6 17.1
Kevin Mitchell 1223 17.6 18.3
Elmer Valo 1575 17.5 18.9
Cal Ripken 3001 17.4 15.8
Travis Hafner 1183 17.2 19.5
Magglio Ordonez 1848 17.2 24.7
Jeff Burroughs 1689 16.9 15.3
Jackie Jensen 1438 16.9 15.7
Dan Driessen 1732 16.8 11.8
Cliff Floyd 1621 16.8 17.6
Mike Sweeney 1454 16.7 20.0
Raul Ibanez 2161 16.6 14.6
Willie Horton 2028 16.5 17.6
Darrell Porter 1782 16.5 16.8
Curtis Granderson 1499 16.2 14.2
Vada Pinson 2469 16.2 16.9
Earl Torgeson 1668 16.2 20.4
Ryan Zimmerman 1293 16.2 12.5
Pat Burrell 1640 16.1 11.9
Andre Ethier 1417 16.0 14.5
George Kell 1508 16.0 15.0
Carlos Pena 1493 16.0 16.1
Robinson Cano 1687 15.9 19.0
Carlton Fisk 2499 15.9 19.1
Thurman Munson 1423 15.9 13.7
Hanley Ramirez 1328 15.9 16.6
Lenny Dykstra 1278 15.7 13.9
Del Ennis 1903 15.7 17.0
Justin Morneau 1487 15.7 17.7
Richie Zisk 1453 15.7 13.9
Nomar Garciaparra 1434 15.6 20.9
Pee Wee Reese 1779.0 15.6
Bob Allison 1541 15.5 18.6
Alvin Davis 1206 15.5 19.4
Hal McRae 2084 15.5 22.9
Mike Greenwell 1269 15.3 14.6
Carlos Lee 2099 15.3 15.5
Evan Longoria 1119 15.3 16.7
Richie Hebner 1908 15.1 18.3
Ichiro Suzuki 2357 15.1 17.0
Robin Ventura 2079 15.1 19.3
Von Hayes 1495 15.0 12.0
Tino Martinez 2023 15.0 14.6
Jay Buhner 1472 14.9 18.7
Kevin McReynolds 1502 14.9 12.4
Don Baylor 2292 14.8 17.1
Tommy Davis 1999 14.8 12.0
Ron Cey 2073 14.7 21.7
Jason Thompson 1418 14.7 14.6
Sixto Lezcano 1291 14.6 12.1
Gary Matthews 2033 14.4 14.7
Graig Nettles 2700 14.3 14.5
Jorge Posada 1829 14.3 19.2
Alan Trammell 2293 14.3 13.5
Edwin Encarnacion 1353 14.2 16.7
Don Buford 1286 14.1 15.7
Jeromy Burnitz 1694 14.1 10.5
Richie Ashburn 2189 14.0 13.8
Jason Bay 1278 14.0 14.5
Jim Ray Hart 1125.0 13.6
Jim Fregosi 1902 13.5 11.6
Rick Monday 1986 13.5 14.9
Lonnie Smith 1613 13.4 13.3
Jayson Werth 1370 13.4 15.5
Bill White 1673 13.4 14.1
Smoky Burgess 1691 13.3 12.6
Hunter Pence 1270 13.3 12.6
Norm Siebern 1406 13.3 15.8
Joe Adcock 1959 13.2 16.8
Nelson Cruz 1115 12.9 14.1
Julio Franco 2527 12.9 17.4
Mickey Rivers 1468 12.9 9.6
Roy Campanella 1215 12.8 14.2
Wes Covington 1075 12.8 12.2
Mickey Tettleton 1485 12.8 14.1
Felipe Alou 2082 12.7 13.3
Matt Kemp 1270 12.6 15.9
Andy Pafko 1567 12.6 10.1
Ken Caminiti 1760 12.5 16.0
Hideki Matsui 1236 12.4 16.2
John Mayberry 1620 12.4 18.4
Orlando Merced 1391 12.4 9.0
Andy VanSlyke 1658 12.4 15.2
Brett Butler 2213 12.3 11.7
Shawn Green 1951 12.3 18.1
Bob Nieman 1113 12.3 10.8
Jim Northrup 1392 12.3 8.5
Leon Wagner 1352 12.3 13.3
Bill Skowron 1658 12.2 15.6
Richie Sexson 1367 12.1 14.2
Eric Chavez 1615 12.0 12.5
Steve Kemp 1168 12.0 14.7
Jim Gentile 936 11.9 16.3
Dwayne Murphy 1360 11.9 11.8
Bruce Bochte 1538 11.8 11.3
Ron Gant 1832 11.8 10.2
Don Mincher 1400 11.8 12.4
Johnny Callison 1886 11.7 14.0
George Hendrick 2048 11.7 13.4
Bob Horner 1020 11.7 14.1
Kevin Youkilis 1061 11.7 16.8
Chris Davis 883 11.6 11.3
Miguel Tejada 2171 11.6 10.0
Darren Daulton 1161 11.5 13.1
Matt Stairs 1895 11.4 15.4
Adrian Beltre 2567 11.3 14.0
Chuck Knoblauch 1632 11.3 11.8
Andre Thornton 1565 11.2 14.0
Mike Epstein 907 11.1 8.6
Paul Konerko 2349 11.1 14.9
Carlos May 1165 11.1 8.9
Willie Davis 2429 11.0 11.6
Bob Elliott 1071 11.0 15.4
Hank Sauer 1352 11.0 12.7
Joe Rudi 1547 10.9 10.7
Hank Thompson 933 10.9 12.0
Jason Heyward 835 10.8 8.7
Matt Lawton 1334 10.8 9.7
Ben Zobrist 1190 10.8 12.6
Edgardo Alfonzo 1506 10.7 9.5
Eddie Joost 972 10.7 8.3
Gil McDougald 1336 10.7 10.6
Dave Kingman 1941 10.6 9.8
Lou Brock 2616 10.5 11.2
Lee Mazzilli 1475 10.5 8.4
Eddie Stanky 862 10.5 12.0
Josh Willingham 1147 10.5 10.2
Glenn Davis 1015 10.4 9.8
Tito Francona 1719 10.4 8.9
Larry Hisle 1197 10.3 13.7
Willie Randolph 2202 10.3 13.4
Carlos Guillen 1305 10.2 10.4
Floyd Robinson 1011 10.2 11.9
Mike Stanley 1467 10.2 12.1
Troy Glaus 1537 10.1 12.6
Tom Tresh 1192 10.1 9.9
Greg Vaughn 1731 10.1 12.9
Mike Easler 1151 10.0 6.2
Billy Goodman 1623 10.0 7.3
Kevin Seitzer 1439 10.0 13.1
Johnny Briggs 1366 9.9 11.8
Leon Durham 1067 9.9 9.9
Dom DiMaggio 996 9.8 8.1
Alfonso Soriano 1975 9.8 9.4
Carl Furillo 1806 9.7 15.5
Dick McAuliffe 1763 9.6 8.2
Jose Reyes 1562 9.6 9.5
Bob Skinner 1381 9.6 10.1
George Scott 2034 9.5 10.1
Andruw Jones 2196 9.4 6.8
Carney Lansford 1862 9.4 14.0
Dave Magadan 1582 9.4 9.6
Dick Stuart 1112 9.4 7.4
Justin Upton 1184 9.4 8.6
Phil Bradley 1022 9.3 8.8
Michael Brantley 807 9.3 9.1
Johnny Grubb 1424 9.3 12.4
Manny Mota 1536 9.3 8.0
Matt Williams 1866 9.3 10.7
Chris Chambliss 2175 9.2 11.3
Willie Crawford 1210 9.2 7.5
Bobby Higginson 1362 9.2 12.6
Nick Swisher 1527 9.2 9.6
Hank Bauer 1544 9.1 12.8
Jose Cardenal 2017 9.1 4.4
Gary Carter 2296 9.1 13.9
Aubrey Huff 1681 9.1 10.5
Pete Ward 973 9.1 8.8
Marcus Giles 792 9.0 4.2
Mack Jones 1002 9.0 8.8
Jacoby Ellsbury 975 8.9 7.3
Geoff Jenkins 1349 8.9 8.5
Adam LaRoche 1605 8.9 9.5
Carlos Santana 804 8.9 7.7
Brady Anderson 1834 8.8 12.9
Doug DeCinces 1649 8.8 9.8
Carl Everett 1405 8.8 12.2
John Lowenstein 1368 8.7 5.0
Jorge Orta 1755 8.7 4.8
Reggie Sanders 1777 8.7 9.3
J.T. Snow 1716 8.7 10.7
Sean Casey 1405 8.6 10.1
Tony Clark 1559 8.6 8.1
Howard Johnson 1531 8.6 11.7
Ian Kinsler 1381 8.6 8.5
Charlie Maxwell 1133 8.6 10.9
Brian McCann 1380 8.6 13.6
Dante Bichette 1704 8.4 3.2
Adam Lind 1102 8.4 9.2
Gregg Jefferies 1465 8.3 5.6
Eddie Robinson 1307 8.2 12.1
Bobby Doerr 831 8.1 8.4
Wally Moon 1457 8.1 11.0
Ray Durham 1975 8.0 3.9
Ron LeFlore 1099 8.0 5.9
Kendrys Morales 876 8.0 8.9
Vern Stephens 1141 8.0 8.2
Donn Clendenon 1362 7.9 6.9
Johnny Pesky 1123 7.9 6.6
Ray Boone 1373 7.8 11.5
Carl Crawford 1686 7.8 14.0
Joe Ferguson 1013 7.7 6.4
Bernard Gilkey 1239 7.7 4.4
Steve Braun 1425 7.6 6.4
Al Bumbry 1496 7.6 7.0
Billy Butler 1317 7.6 9.8
Dan Ford 1153 7.6 5.5
Nick Markakis 1521 7.6 8.1
Tony Gonzalez 1559 7.5 9.4
Dustin Pedroia 1244 7.5 8.2
Terry Puhl 1531 7.4 5.7
Mike Marshall 1035 7.3 6.0
Gary Redus 1159 7.3 4.6
Grady Sizemore 1101 7.3 12.4
Wes Parker 1288 7.1 8.2
Jose Vidro 1418 7.1 7.1
Michael Young 1970 7.1 8.1
Russell Martin 1292 7.0 4.5
Cecil Fielder 1470 6.9 13.6
Pat Kelly 1385 6.9 7.9
Jim Lemon 1010 6.9 3.9
Gus Zernial 1234 6.9 3.9
Gus Bell 1741 6.8 6.4
Curt Blefary 974 6.8 5.8
Milton Bradley 1042 6.8 5.0
Chris Hoiles 894 6.8 9.0
Bip Roberts 1202 6.8 3.5
Carlos Baerga 1630 6.7 2.5
Lee Maye 1288 6.7 6.3
Cesar Tovar 1488 6.7 4.2
Nellie Fox 2367 6.6 -1.7
Bill Doran 1453 6.5 6.3
Alex Gordon 1136 6.5 6.5
Mel Hall 1276 6.5 5.2
Raul Mondesi 1525 6.5 8.2
Corey Koskie 989 6.4 5.8
Ruben Sierra 2186 6.4 3.7
Shannon Stewart 1386 6.4 7.0
Troy Tulowitzki 1089 6.4 6.4
Pablo Sandoval 995 6.3 7.1
Gorman Thomas 1435 6.3 5.6
Jesse Barfield 1428 6.2 7.1
Brad Hawpe 910 6.2 7.4
Torii Hunter 2372 6.2 8.4
Cleon Jones 1213 6.2 7.2
Bobby Thomson 1779 6.2 10.2
Phil Garner 1860 6.1 1.0
Gene Richards 1026 6.1 4.4
Steve Henderson 1085 6.0 5.5
Bill North 1169 6.0 4.2
Wally Post 1204 6.0 6.2
Bob Bailey 1931 5.9 3.5
Nate Colbert 1004 5.9 7.6
Carlos Gonzalez 914 5.9 6.2
Jason Kendall 2085 5.9 0.8
Ken McMullen 1583 5.9 1.7
Don Demeter 1109 5.8 3.8
Davey Lopes 1812 5.8 6.7
Dave May 1252 5.8 2.7
Rance Mulliniks 1325 5.8 5.6
Phil Nevin 1217 5.8 8.3
Buddy Bell 2405 5.7 9.7
George Bell 1587 5.7 7.4
Adam Jones 1242 5.7 3.7
Harvey Kuenn 1833 5.6 6.9
Darin Erstad 1654 5.5 0.6
Rick Reichardt 997 5.5 4.1
Denard Span 950 5.5 6.6
Neil Walker 836 5.5 7.0
Randy Winn 1717 5.5 1.7
Mike Napoli 1118 5.4 8.7
Greg Walker 855 5.4 5.7
Ellis Valentine 894 5.3 4.3
Ron Hunt 1483 5.1 6.2
Garret Anderson 2228 5.0 7.7
Jonny Gomes 1203 5.0 2.5
Ed Bailey 1212 4.9 8.1
Tony Conigliaro 876 4.9 4.7
Brett Gardner 919 4.9 5.1
Ryan Ludwick 1065 4.9 6.6
Lou Piniella 1747 4.9 5.5
Bill Buckner 2517 4.8 1.8
Jim Hickman 1421 4.8 2.2
Dave Hollins 983 4.8 6.2
Chet Lemon 1988 4.8 12.3
Melvin Mora 1556 4.8 5.4
Daniel Murphy 903 4.8 7.0
Brian Roberts 1418 4.8 5.6
Gary Ward 1287 4.8 3.7
Jerry Mumphrey 1585 4.7 6.9
Albie Pearson 988 4.7 3.0
Delino DeShields 1615 4.6 1.6
Kevin Millar 1427 4.6 5.5
Bill Freehan 1774 4.5 5.6
Corey Hart 1048 4.5 5.1
Jerry Lynch 1184 4.5 4.4
John Milner 1215 4.5 9.0
Michael Cuddyer 1536 4.4 7.6
Curt Flood 1759 4.4 2.1
Jimmie Hall 963 4.4 4.9
Howie Kendrick 1198 4.4 6.3
Willie McGee 2201 4.4 4.7
Trot Nixon 1092 4.4 7.6
Cody Ross 1073 4.4 3.3
Hector Lopez 1450 4.3 2.1
Dale Mitchell 1127 4.3 6.8
Ed Charles 1005 4.2 1.9
Dexter Fowler 939 4.2 1.8
Lloyd Moseby 1588 4.2 3.8
Ben Grieve 976 4.1 7.0
Lyle Overbay 1587 4.1 3.5
Jackie Brandt 1221 4.0 3.5
Tom Haller 1294 4.0 5.5
Shane Mack 923 4.0 8.1
Denis Menke 1598 4.0 5.0
Claudell Washington 1912 4.0 6.3
Bobby Avila 1300 3.9 3.9
Frank Catalanotto 1265 3.9 5.7
Martin Prado 1110 3.9 4.7
Alex Johnson 1322 3.7 1.8
Derek Bell 1210 3.6 4.3
Jim Lefebvre 922 3.6 4.0
Jeff Blauser 1407 3.5 3.9
Todd Zeile 2158 3.5 2.0
Matty Alou 1667 3.4 1.1
Kevin Bass 1571 3.4 3.9
Irv Noren 1093 3.4 7.8
Asdrubal Cabrera 1106 3.3 2.0
Steve Finley 2583 3.3 5.3
Chuck Hinton 1353 3.3 2.7
Jay Johnstone 1748 3.3 2.8
Jim King 1125 3.3 4.7
Brooks Robinson 2896 3.3 2.2
Hubie Brooks 1645 3.2 -0.3
Mike Cameron 1955 3.2 4.6
Davey Johnson 1435 3.2 6.9
Eric Karros 1755 3.2 3.9
Bake McBride 1071 3.2 3.5
Bill Melton 1144 3.2 3.9
Bill Spiers 1252 3.2 -0.5
Darryl Hamilton 1328 3.1 -0.7
Scott Hatteberg 1314 3.1 3.9
Elston Howard 1605 3.1 5.0
Kelly Johnson 1268 3.1 3.0
Jacque Jones 1302 3.1 -2.0
Dale Long 1013 3.1 6.1
Walker Cooper 1036 3.0 7.5
Chase Headley 1122 3.0 6.0
Jeff King 1201 3.0 3.3
Yadier Molina 1464 3.0 -2.0
Paul Schaal 1128 3.0 1.1
David Segui 1456 3.0 4.9
Seth Smith 1001 3.0 5.5
Robby Thompson 1304 3.0 3.5
Mark Loretta 1726 2.9 2.1
Willard Marshall 1130 2.9 5.2
Rondell White 1474 2.9 5.8
Luke Scott 889 2.8 6.5
Dan Uggla 1346 2.8 4.4
Ken Harrelson 900 2.7 2.6
Lance Johnson 1447 2.7 -1.7
Lee Lacy 1523 2.7 1.6
Pete O’Brien 1567 2.7 3.3
Harry Simpson 888 2.7 2.1
Shane Victorino 1299 2.7 4.5
Jeff Conine 2024 2.6 7.5
Austin Jackson 860 2.5 0.2
Willie Jones 1691 2.5 3.5
Jason Kubel 1036 2.5 4.4
Stan Javier 1763 2.4 0.1
Whitey Lockman 1634 2.4 -1.4
Willie Montanez 1632 2.4 1.5
Angel Pagan 995 2.4 3.9
Willie Upshaw 1264 2.4 1.4
Hank Blalock 936 2.3 -0.2
Joe Carter 2189 2.3 5.4
Tommy Harper 1810 2.3 2.0
Ruppert Jones 1331 2.3 5.8
Al Smith 1517 2.3 6.0
Denny Walling 1271 2.3 4.1
Tony Fernandez 2158 2.2 6.3
Bill Mueller 1216 2.2 4.3
David Murphy 1110 2.2 4.3
Pete Runnels 1799 2.2 4.6
Roberto Kelly 1337 2.1 3.7
Carmelo Martinez 1003 2.1 1.8
Juan Samuel 1720 2.1 1.3
John Valentin 1105 2.1 4.5
Wally Westlake 958 2.1 3.6
Dmitri Young 1364 2.1 5.0
Garrett Jones 911 2.0 1.4
Ken Landreaux 1264 2.0 -0.4
Pat Tabler 1202 2.0 2.7
Eddie Waitkus 1128 2.0 0.4
Chone Figgins 1282 1.9 0.9
Greg Gross 1809 1.9 2.0
Paul Sorrento 1093 1.9 2.9
Wally Backman 1102 1.8 -1.0
Bill Bruton 1610 1.8 3.4
Ivan Calderon 924 1.8 1.8
Jim Landis 1346 1.8 0.8
Keith Moreland 1306 1.8 0.1
Yunel Escobar 1213 1.7 -1.2
Ron Hassey 1192 1.7 0.3
Henry Rodriguez 950 1.7 3.3
Glenallen Hill 1162 1.6 2.8
Dean Palmer 1357 1.6 2.5
Will Venable 955 1.6 2.5
Coco Crisp 1464 1.5 -1.3
Mark DeRosa 1241 1.5 1.3
Sherm Lollar 1752 1.5 1.7
Candy Maldonado 1410 1.5 6.1
Jimmy Rollins 2234 1.5 1.0
Aaron Rowand 1358 1.5 0.3
James Loney 1343 1.3 2.0
Hal Morris 1246 1.3 4.4
Jim Gilliam 1956 1.2 0.4
Willie Kirkland 1149 1.2 4.3
Melky Cabrera 1369 1.1 4.3
Rafael Furcal 1614 1.1 -0.8
Wayne Garrett 1092 1.1 2.9
Kelly Gruber 939 1.1 0.7
Xavier Nady 961 1.1 -2.0
Rich Rollins 1002 1.1 1.8
Lenny Green 1136 1.0 1.3
Doug Mientkiewicz 1087 1.0 -0.6
Randy Bush 1219 0.9 1.5
Dave Henderson 1538 0.9 2.7
Todd Hundley 1225 0.9 -0.4
Johnny Ray 1353 0.9 -0.3
Manny Sanguillen 1448 0.9 -1.8
Tommie Agee 1129 0.8 1.5
Garry Maddox 1749 0.8 0.8
Al Martin 1232 0.8 -0.1
Tim McCarver 1909 0.8 1.9
Gerald Perry 1193 0.8 -2.5
Johnny Groth 1248 0.7 -1.4
Oddibe McDowell 830 0.7 -1.5
B.J. Surhoff 2313 0.7 8.0
Bert Campaneris 2328 0.6 -5.3
David DeJesus 1472 0.6 5.7
Wayne Gross 1106 0.6 4.7
Brian Harper 1001 0.6 -2.1
Roy Howell 1112 0.6 1.0
Gary Matthews 1281 0.6 -0.5
Miguel Montero 1019 0.6 3.2
Colby Rasmus 930 0.6 3.1
Fernando Tatis 949 0.6 -1.4
Grady Hatton 1312 0.5 4.2
Mike Lowell 1601 0.5 4.2
Jermaine Dye 1763 0.4 3.0
Ralph Garr 1317 0.4 -2.0
Troy O’Leary 1198 0.4 -1.9
Mark Reynolds 1258 0.4 1.1
Ernie Whitt 1328 0.4 -0.7
Bump Wills 831 0.4 0.5
Ollie Brown 1221 0.3 2.9
Javy Lopez 1503 0.3 4.3
Joe Pepitone 1397 0.3 -0.1
Andy Seminick 1180 0.3 0.6
Brad Wilkerson 972 0.3 -0.4
Johnny Wyrostek 1161 0.3 2.1
Jose Cruz 1388 0.2 0.9
Scott Fletcher 1612 0.2 -3.8
Marquis Grissom 2165 0.2 -6.0
Ray Knight 1495 0.2 -2.6
Hank Majeski 941 0.2 -0.6
Freddy Sanchez 904 0.2 2.4
Bobby Tolan 1282 0.2 -3.5
Mookie Wilson 1403 0.2 -0.9
Jim Eisenreich 1422 0.1 1.0
Cito Gaston 1026 0.1 -0.5
Mike Andrews 893 0.0 3.2
Dave Collins 1701 0.0 -3.7
David Dellucci 1099 0.0 -1.8
Hoot Evers 1141 0.0 0.6
Travis Lee 1099 0.0 -3.4
Nate McLouth 1045 0.0 -0.9
Tom McCraw 1468 -0.1 0.8
Mark Whiten 940 -0.1 1.0
Butch Wynegar 1301 -0.1 -2.8
Tony Bernazard 1071 -0.2 -0.3
Sid Bream 1088 -0.2 2.7
Ian Desmond 927 -0.2 0.9
Preston Wilson 1108 -0.2 -3.0
Joel Youngblood 1408 -0.2 0.7
Mike Lum 1517 -0.3 -4.5
Rico Petrocelli 1553 -0.3 2.1
Vernon Wells 1731 -0.3 2.0
Elliott Maddox 1029 -0.4 0.9
Larry Parrish 1891 -0.4 5.6
Placido Polanco 1927 -0.4 -1.1
Don Slaught 1327 -0.4 -5.2
Milt Thompson 1359 -0.4 0.6
Jose Valentin 1678 -0.4 -2.1
George Altman 991 -0.5 2.1
Aaron Boone 1152 -0.5 -1.7
Rob Deer 1155 -0.5 1.5
Ed Kirkpatrick 1311 -0.5 -1.2
Juan Rivera 1058 -0.5 2.4
Russell Branyan 1059 -0.6 1.1
Danny Cater 1289 -0.6 -0.5
Carlos Ruiz 1021 -0.6 -0.5
Mitch Webster 1265 -0.6 0.8
Jorge Cantu 847 -0.7 -3.2
Mike Davis 963 -0.7 1.5
Sam Chapman 828 -0.8 -2.4
Woodie Held 1390 -0.8 4.2
Steve Sax 1769 -0.8 -3.1
Rickie Weeks 1179 -0.8 -1.6
Dan Gladden 1197 -0.9 -0.7
Todd Hollandsworth 1118 -0.9 -2.9
Bill Robinson 1472 -0.9 -0.4
Mark Kotsay 1914 -1.0 -5.9
Gary Pettis 1183 -1.0 -2.5
Casey Blake 1265 -1.1 -2.3
Tom Herr 1514 -1.1 1.3
Don Money 1720 -1.1 3.7
Doug Rader 1465 -1.1 -0.8
Michael Tucker 1417 -1.2 -2.0
Willie Wilson 2154 -1.2 -0.5
Earl Battey 1141 -1.3 -1.3
Jay Bell 2063 -1.3 3.6
Greg Brock 1013 -1.3 3.4
Andy Carey 938 -1.3 -1.8
Mike Jorgensen 1633 -1.3 -0.6
Jhonny Peralta 1695 -1.3 -2.4
Scott Podsednik 1079 -1.3 -5.0
Luis Polonia 1379 -1.3 -3.4
Kevin Young 1205 -1.3 -4.2
Jeff Cirillo 1617 -1.4 1.4
Marty Cordova 952 -1.4 -0.1
Vance Law 1212 -1.4 -3.1
Eddie Taubensee 975 -1.4 -0.2
Tim Teufel 1073 -1.4 1.1
Randy Velarde 1273 -1.4 -0.1
Marlon Byrd 1539 -1.5 2.1
Bill Hall 1054 -1.5 -6.5
Jerry Lumpe 1371 -1.5 -3.5
Marlon Anderson 1151 -1.6 -4.7
Vic Davalillo 1458 -1.6 -0.5
Terrence Long 890 -1.6 -2.0
Cass Michaels 1130 -1.6 -1.9
Bob Oliver 847 -1.6 -2.5
Gus Triandos 1206 -1.6 0.0
Steve Balboni 960 -1.7 -2.8
Brian Jordan 1456 -1.7 2.5
Chris Sabo 911 -1.7 0.1
Scott Spiezio 1274 -1.7 -1.9
Tom Brunansky 1800 -1.8 -2.3
Joe Crede 888 -1.8 -5.2
Brook Jacoby 1311 -1.8 -1.8
Dave Martinez 1919 -1.8 -1.7
Lee Stevens 1012 -1.8 -1.6
Dickie Thon 1387 -1.8 -4.4
Jay Bruce 1123 -1.9 0.8
Jeffrey Hammonds 957 -1.9 -1.6
Pete Incaviglia 1284 -1.9 -2.0
Frank Thomas 1766 -1.9 0.3
Devon White 1941 -1.9 2.6
Stephen Drew 1152 -2.0 -3.9
Terry Kennedy 1491 -2.0 -4.7
Russ Snyder 1365 -2.0 -0.2
Joe Azcue 909 -2.1 -6.0
Michael Bourn 1248 -2.1 -2.3
Ryan Doumit 980 -2.1 -1.0
Jose Guillen 1650 -2.1 -1.3
Connie Ryan 953 -2.1 -2.3
Paul LoDuca 1082 -2.2 -2.4
Del Unser 1799 -2.2 -1.7
Jerry Browne 982 -2.3 -3.1
Jay Gibbons 840 -2.3 0.6
Carlos Gomez 1086 -2.3 -1.4
Eric Soderholm 894 -2.3 2.2
Mickey Stanley 1516 -2.3 -8.2
Tim Wallach 2212 -2.3 1.5
Garrett Atkins 817 -2.4 0.4
Luis Castillo 1720 -2.4 -3.9
Maicer Izturis 909 -2.4 -2.5
Milt May 1192 -2.4 -2.5
Bob Dillinger 753 -2.5 -3.8
Rick Miller 1482 -2.5 -1.5
Jim Spencer 1553 -2.5 -1.7
Warren Cromartie 1107 -2.6 -1.2
Dee Fondy 967 -2.6 -5.4
Jim Morrison 1089 -2.6 -3.6
Terry Pendleton 1893 -2.6 -1.4
Brandon Phillips 1608 -2.6 -3.3
Edgar Renteria 2152 -2.6 -3.2
Alex Rios 1691 -2.6 -5.0
Steve Buechele 1334 -2.7 -4.2
Travis Fryman 1698 -2.7 2.9
Dick Groat 1929 -2.7 -10.0
Ramon Hernandez 1526 -2.7 -2.8
Mike Macfarlane 1164 -2.8 -4.2
Don Mueller 1245 -2.8 -1.8
Vic Power 1627 -2.8 -1.6
Jim Rivera 1171 -2.8 -3.7
Lee Thomas 1027 -2.8 -1.6
Chris Young 1243 -2.8 -4.9
Wil Cordero 1247 -2.9 -4.5
Orlando Hudson 1345 -2.9 -2.2
Gabe Kapler 1104 -2.9 -3.9
Mark Teahen 831 -2.9 -4.9
Johnny Temple 1420 -2.9 -7.1
Ken Henderson 1444 -3.0 1.2
Eric Hinske 1387 -3.0 0.4
Terry Steinbach 1546 -3.0 -1.8
Rich Aurilia 1652 -3.1 -5.4
Juan Encarnacion 1259 -3.1 -3.0
Don Hoak 1263 -3.1 -1.7
Joe Randa 1522 -3.1 -3.6
Al Zarilla 950 -3.1 2.0
Elvis Andrus 1074 -3.2 -5.1
Ed Kranepool 1853 -3.2 -2.9
Chad Curtis 1204 -3.3 -5.2
Mike Devereaux 1086 -3.3 -4.8
Tony Graffanino 981 -3.3 -1.7
Casey Kotchman 939 -3.3 -3.2
Todd Walker 1288 -3.3 -2.5
Erick Aybar 1220 -3.4 -3.6
Mark McLemore 1832 -3.4 -11.1
Sam Mele 1046 -3.4 -1.9
Tony Taylor 2195 -3.4 -10.3
Jason Varitek 1546 -3.4 -6.2
Alan Bannister 972 -3.5 -3.2
Bret Boone 1780 -3.5 -1.7
Alvin Dark 1828 -3.5 -0.8
Jeffrey Leonard 1415 -3.5 -1.2
Tom Paciorek 1392 -3.5 -1.2
Mike Pagliarulo 1246 -3.5 -3.9
Jerry Remy 1154 -3.5 -6.3
Mike Scioscia 1441 -3.5 0.3
Roy Smalley 1653 -3.5 3.6
Jason Bartlett 892 -3.6 -1.5
Rico Brogna 848 -3.6 -1.5
Brian McRae 1354 -3.6 -6.0
Luis Salazar 1302 -3.6 -5.1
B.J. Upton 1320 -3.6 -1.5
Randy Jackson 955 -3.7 -3.6
Charlie Neal 970 -3.7 -3.8
Jose Offerman 1651 -3.7 -3.8
Jay Payton 1259 -3.7 -6.0
Gene Freese 1115 -3.8 -4.6
Desi Relaford 939 -3.8 -8.1
Willie Bloomquist 1055 -3.9 -8.9
Dave Cash 1422 -3.9 -3.3
Alan Ashby 1370 -4.0 -3.8
Ron Belliard 1484 -4.0 -1.8
Barry Bonnell 976 -4.0 -4.9
Roger Cedeno 1100 -4.0 -1.8
Bo Diaz 993 -4.0 -5.2
Skip Schumaker 1149 -4.0 -4.5
Earl Williams 889 -4.0 -1.9
Richard Hidalgo 987 -4.1 -1.9
Max Alvis 1013 -4.3 -5.7
Larry Biittner 1217 -4.3 -5.1
Granny Hamner 1496 -4.3 -9.1
Jerry Morales 1441 -4.3 -5.4
Deron Johnson 1765 -4.4 -0.7
Dan Meyer 1118 -4.4 -6.3
Todd Benzinger 924 -4.5 -5.3
Jim Davenport 1501 -4.5 -4.9
David Eckstein 1311 -4.5 -7.2
Ron Jackson 926 -4.5 -3.1
Tony Kubek 1092 -4.5 -6.6
Delmon Young 1118 -4.5 -5.1
Jerry Priddy 1032 -4.7 -4.3
Mariano Duncan 1279 -4.8 -7.1
Ivan Rodriguez 2543 -4.8 -0.9
Bob Aspromonte 1324 -4.9 -9.8
Del Crandall 1573 -4.9 -6.4
Aaron Hill 1400 -4.9 -2.5
Jim Wohlford 1220 -4.9 -6.8
Eric Byrnes 963 -5.0 -4.6
Mickey Hatcher 1130 -5.0 -3.3
Johnny Logan 1503 -5.0 -1.7
Frank Baumholtz 1019 -5.1 -4.1
Billy Hatcher 1233 -5.1 -7.4
Mike Hershberger 1150 -5.2 -5.5
Dave Philley 1897 -5.2 -7.8
Phil Rizzuto 1384 -5.2 -3.0
Marco Scutaro 1391 -5.2 -4.0
Marty Barrett 941 -5.3 -6.3
Wayne Causey 1105 -5.3 -5.9
Rajai Davis 1067 -5.3 -4.5
Ted Uhlaender 898 -5.3 -2.0
Kurt Suzuki 1102 -5.4 -5.6
Gary Gaetti 2507 -5.5 -7.1
Ron Hansen 1384 -5.5 -6.3
Bob Bailor 955 -5.6 -6.5
Chico Carrasquel 1325 -5.6 -5.1
Dick Green 1288 -5.6 -8.5
Chris James 946 -5.6 -3.7
Bernie Allen 1139 -5.7 -4.6
Jeff Keppinger 818 -5.7 -4.3
Rip Repulski 928 -5.7 -4.3
Bobby Adams 1281 -5.8 -7.0
Gene Alley 1195 -5.8 -6.6
Juan Beniquez 1500 -5.8 -5.9
Starlin Castro 891 -5.8 -3.6
Walt Dropo 1288 -5.8 -3.3
Kevin Elster 940 -5.8 -7.1
Mike Gallego 1111 -5.9 -8.8
Gerardo Parra 988 -5.9 -4.6
Brian Schneider 1048 -5.9 -10.0
Kurt Stillwell 998 -5.9 -5.8
Reed Johnson 1320 -6.0 -1.9
Otis Nixon 1709 -6.0 -9.6
Glenn Wilson 1201 -6.0 -5.6
Pedro Feliz 1302 -6.1 -12.5
Darrin Fletcher 1245 -6.1 -6.8
Austin Kearns 1125 -6.1 -1.0
Mike Lieberthal 1212 -6.1 -2.9
Ken Oberkfell 1602 -6.1 -3.6
Jim Presley 959 -6.1 -7.8
Johnny Roseboro 1585 -6.1 -3.2
Johnny Edwards 1470 -6.2 -5.4
Eddie Bressoud 1186 -6.3 -6.9
Jim Busby 1352 -6.3 -5.9
Bobby Knoop 1153 -6.3 -7.4
A.J. Pierzynski 1978 -6.3 -8.9
Bill Stein 959 -6.3 -4.9
Fernando Vina 1148 -6.3 -9.1
Enos Cabell 1688 -6.4 -3.3
Alberto Callaspo 1093 -6.4 -3.6
Gino Cimoli 969 -6.4 -6.4
Vince Coleman 1371 -6.4 -7.7
Eric Young 1730 -6.4 -8.7
Darnell Coles 957 -6.5 -8.2
Shea Hillenbrand 943 -6.5 -5.3
Bengie Molina 1362 -6.5 -9.5
Dioner Navarro 908 -6.5 -8.8
Cesar Geronimo 1522 -6.6 -4.2
Jose Lopez 1036 -6.6 -8.4
Ozzie Smith 2573 -6.6 -7.0
Jesus Alou 1380 -6.7 -7.4
Tony Armas 1432 -6.8 -2.8
Ken Berry 1383 -6.8 -7.5
Gil Coan 918 -6.8 -7.3
Al Cowens 1584 -6.8 -5.5
Rick Manning 1555 -6.8 -10.7
Daryl Spencer 1098 -6.8 -4.4
Gordon Beckham 865 -6.9 -7.8
Joe Orsulak 1494 -6.9 -5.9
Maury Wills 1942 -6.9 -7.2
Dave Duncan 929 -7.0 -6.3
Tom Goodwin 1288 -7.0 -12.3
Ricky Gutierrez 1119 -7.0 -10.5
Jimmy Piersall 1734 -7.0 -13.2
Scott Brosius 1146 -7.1 -7.2
Ray Fosse 924 -7.1 -5.1
Dick Williams 1023 -7.1 -6.9
Luis Alicea 1341 -7.2 -7.9
Larry Herndon 1537 -7.2 -3.4
Charlie Moore 1334 -7.2 -8.0
Alexei Ramirez 1226 -7.2 -5.5
Craig Reynolds 1491 -7.2 -12.3
Adam Kennedy 1691 -7.3 -10.4
Rod Barajas 1114 -7.4 -10.9
Mike Heath 1325 -7.4 -6.3
Lance Parrish 1988 -7.4 -3.8
Endy Chavez 1151 -7.5 -10.3
Juan Uribe 1753 -7.5 -11.2
J.J. Hardy 1373 -7.6 -8.7
Len Randle 1138 -7.6 -7.9
Damaso Garcia 1032 -7.7 -10.8
Ty Wigginton 1362 -7.7 -5.8
Tom Brookens 1336 -7.8 -7.6
Ron Coomer 911 -7.8 -8.2
Red Schoendienst 2079 -7.8 -5.8
Bill Tuttle 1270 -7.8 -8.3
Pat Meares 982 -7.9 -12.7
Gregg Zaun 1232 -7.9 -6.2
Glenn Beckert 1320 -8.0 -10.1
Sonny Jackson 936 -8.0 -11.0
Cory Snyder 1068 -8.0 -6.4
Jody Davis 1082 -8.2 -7.6
Mark Ellis 1435 -8.2 -5.4
Glenn Hubbard 1354 -8.2 -5.7
Darren Lewis 1354 -8.2 -9.4
Chris Speier 2260 -8.2 -10.4
Gary Sutherland 1031 -8.2 -11.5
Dave Concepcion 2488 -8.3 -11.9
Tony Batista 1309 -8.4 -7.1
Leo Cardenas 1941 -8.4 -14.4
Charles Johnson 1188 -8.4 -4.7
Aaron Miles 932 -8.4 -10.7
John Buck 1090 -8.5 -6.8
Jim Sundberg 1962 -8.5 -7.0
Omar Infante 1468 -8.7 -9.3
Greg Myers 1108 -8.7 -9.7
Dave Chalk 903 -8.8 -8.1
Jose Lind 1044 -8.8 -13.4
Joey Cora 1119 -8.9 -6.4
George Strickland 971 -8.9 -9.7
Clay Dalrymple 1079 -9.0 -6.5
Don Wert 1110 -9.1 -8.5
Geoff Blum 1389 -9.2 -11.5
Miguel Cairo 1490 -9.2 -12.1
Mark Lemke 1069 -9.2 -13.8
Danny O’Connell 1143 -9.2 -9.5
Bill Virdon 1583 -9.2 -12.0
Rich Dauer 1140 -9.3 -9.6
Julio Lugo 1352 -9.3 -11.5
Juan Pierre 1994 -9.3 -11.8
Ryan Theriot 899 -9.3 -9.4
Tony Womack 1303 -9.3 -15.7
Damion Easley 1706 -9.4 -8.8
Eddie Kasko 1077 -9.4 -13.1
Jose Oquendo 1190 -9.4 -8.0
Yorvit Torrealba 907 -9.4 -10.5
Jamey Carroll 1276 -9.5 -8.9
Corey Patterson 1230 -9.5 -11.7
Ron Oester 1276 -9.6 -11.3
Sandy Alomar 1481 -9.7 -14.2
Jerry Hairston 1442 -9.7 -9.1
Bob Kennedy 1138 -9.7 -9.7
Walt Weiss 1495 -9.7 -14.6
Billy Cox 1048 -9.8 -10.1
Charlie Hayes 1547 -9.8 -9.6
Bob Rodgers 932 -9.9 -12.7
Paul Blair 1947 -10.0 -8.4
Vinny Castilla 1854 -10.0 -12.3
Craig Counsell 1624 -10.0 -11.1
Felipe Lopez 1185 -10.0 -4.9
Julio Cruz 1156 -10.1 -10.4
Shawon Dunston 1814 -10.1 -13.3
Peanuts Lowrey 1101 -10.1 -9.3
Mickey Morandini 1298 -10.2 -9.9
Jose Pagan 1326 -10.2 -11.8
Tony Scott 991 -10.2 -9.5
Rich Gedman 1033 -10.3 -6.6
Bubba Phillips 1062 -10.3 -10.4
Dick Schofield 1368 -10.3 -10.6
Spike Owen 1544 -10.4 -10.9
David Bell 1403 -10.6 -13.5
Duane Kuiper 1057 -10.6 -10.1
Billy Martin 1021 -10.6 -12.1
Tom Pagnozzi 927 -10.6 -10.5
Ted Sizemore 1411 -10.6 -12.7
Garry Templeton 2079 -10.6 -11.5
Gerald Williams 1168 -10.7 -9.8
Dan Wilson 1299 -10.9 -15.3
Denny Doyle 944 -11.0 -13.4
Derrel Thomas 1597 -11.0 -11.1
Orlando Cabrera 1985 -11.1 -17.3
Horace Clarke 1272 -11.1 -9.0
Billy Gardner 1034 -11.2 -16.7
Tommy Helms 1435 -11.2 -16.4
Sandy Alomar 1377 -11.3 -12.6
Jeff Reed 1234 -11.3 -11.5
Yuniesky Betancourt 1156 -11.4 -14.1
Frank Bolling 1540 -11.4 -12.9
Jody Reed 1284 -11.4 -8.7
Steve Yeager 1269 -11.4 -10.3
Jim Gantner 1801 -11.5 -11.9
John Mabry 1322 -11.5 -8.5
Gene Michael 973 -11.5 -13.1
Damian Miller 989 -11.5 -10.5
Joe Oliver 1076 -11.5 -7.5
Rick Cerone 1329 -11.6 -14.7
John Shelby 1036 -11.6 -8.2
Bill Almon 1236 -11.7 -7.2
Jerry Adair 1165 -11.8 -16.1
Mike Lansing 1110 -11.8 -13.9
Harold Reynolds 1374 -11.8 -11.9
Randy Hundley 1061 -11.9 -11.3
Nick Punto 1163 -11.9 -11.5
Ed Sprague 1203 -12.0 -9.2
Bucky Dent 1392 -12.1 -14.4
Lenny Harris 1903 -12.1 -11.3
Jose Vizcaino 1820 -12.1 -16.3
Jeff Francoeur 1356 -12.2 -11.5
Chris Gomez 1515 -12.2 -13.0
Bud Harrelson 1533 -12.2 -12.6
John Bateman 1017 -12.3 -12.1
Brent Mayne 1279 -12.3 -14.0
Tom Veryzer 996 -12.3 -15.5
Jose Uribe 1038 -12.4 -11.1
Brian Hunter 1000 -12.5 -12.0
Cristian Guzman 1406 -12.6 -15.2
Brandon Inge 1532 -12.6 -13.5
Felix Millan 1480 -12.6 -10.4
Alex Cora 1273 -12.7 -13.8
Doug Glanville 1115 -12.7 -13.9
Miguel Olivo 1124 -12.7 -13.0
Rennie Stennett 1237 -12.7 -8.5
Don Blasingame 1444 -12.8 -11.6
Rick Dempsey 1766 -12.8 -13.2
Rick Burleson 1346 -12.9 -13.9
Jose Hernandez 1587 -12.9 -14.1
Marty Perez 931 -12.9 -13.0
Jack Wilson 1370 -12.9 -15.0
Pokey Reese 856 -13.2 -13.7
Frank Malzone 1441 -13.4 -9.5
Sammy White 1043 -13.4 -16.5
Mike Bordick 1720 -13.7 -17.0
Freddie Patek 1650 -13.7 -15.1
Deivi Cruz 1234 -13.9 -15.0
Mark Grudzielanek 1802 -13.9 -13.6
Kirt Manwaring 1008 -13.9 -14.2
Jim Hegan 1582 -14.1 -16.0
Michael Barrett 1054 -14.2 -10.9
Pat Borders 1099 -14.2 -15.3
Joe Girardi 1277 -14.3 -16.6
Jerry Grote 1421 -14.3 -11.2
Zoilo Versalles 1400 -14.3 -13.3
Bruce Benedict 982 -14.4 -11.5
Larry Brown 1129 -14.4 -13.1
Bobby Richardson 1412 -14.4 -13.0
Alcides Escobar 973 -14.5 -13.8
Del Rice 1226 -14.5 -17.3
Mike Tyson 1017 -14.5 -15.1
Clete Boyer 1725 -14.7 -13.4
Tito Fuentes 1499 -14.8 -16.5
Eddie Miksis 1016 -14.9 -17.1
Cookie Rojas 1822 -14.9 -14.6
Don Zimmer 1095 -14.9 -14.0
Ivan DeJesus 1371 -15.0 -15.3
Clint Barmes 1186 -15.1 -13.6
Alex Gonzalez 1396 -15.1 -19.4
Pete Suder 1023 -15.1 -17.2
Rafael Ramirez 1539 -15.3 -17.7
Manny Trillo 1780 -16.0 -17.1
Frank White 2324 -16.0 -15.8
Omar Moreno 1382 -16.1 -15.2
Dick Schofield 1321 -16.2 -11.9
Bill Mazeroski 2163 -16.8 -15.8
Jerry Royster 1428 -17.0 -14.2
John Flaherty 1047 -17.1 -19.2
Benito Santiago 1978 -17.4 -15.6
Johnnie LeMaster 1039 -17.5 -18.1
Mike Matheny 1305 -17.5 -20.5
Dal Maxvill 1423 -17.9 -18.7
Luis Aparicio 2599 -18.1 -14.2
Bill Russell 2181 -18.3 -19.5
Rey Ordonez 973 -18.7 -19.6
Roger Metzger 1219 -18.8 -14.6
Ken Reitz 1344 -18.8 -16.4
Julian Javier 1622 -19.1 -18.3
Frank Taveras 1150 -19.1 -18.9
Omar Vizquel 2968 -19.1 -24.4
Joe DeMaestri 1121 -19.3 -22.4
Bobby Wine 1164 -19.3 -21.1
Gary DiSarcina 1086 -19.9 -20.1
Alex Gonzalez 1609 -21.1 -21.5
Aurelio Rodriguez 2017 -21.1 -24.8
Mark Belanger 2016 -21.5 -21.5
Greg Gagne 1798 -21.5 -18.3
Ozzie Guillen 1993 -21.6 -26.8
Rey Sanchez 1490 -21.7 -24.0
Tony Pena 1988 -21.8 -20.5
Cesar Izturis 1310 -22.0 -26.6
Hal Lanier 1196 -24.9 -26.7
Bob Boone 2264 -25.0 -22.3
Roy McMillan 2093 -25.3 -24.8
Doug Flynn 1308 -26.0 -24.7
Brad Ausmus 1971 -26.5 -27.6
Ed Brinkman 1845 -28.6 -29.2
Tim Foli 1696 -29.4 -29.4
Alfredo Griffin 1962 -29.8 -29.4
Don Kessinger 2078 -30.7 -27.7
Neifi Perez 1403 -31.8 -34.2
Royce Clayton 2108 -33.2 -33.5
Larry Bowa 2247 -38.2 -35.5

 

Player Win Averages-Pitchers

Pitcher IP PW RW LEV
Roger Clemens 4916.2 79.6 81.8 36.5
Greg Maddux 5008.1 73.3 74.9 36.2
Tom Seaver 4783.0 69.2 64.9 36.7
Warren Spahn 5228.0 64.1 60.1 38.1
Randy Johnson 4135.1 59.1 63.3 36.5
Pedro Martinez 2827.1 59.1 60.1 35.8
Bob Gibson 3884.1 56.8 55.6 38.2
Mariano Rivera 1283.2 54.8 35.5 67.8
Tom Glavine 4413.1 49.0 53.4 36.7
John Smoltz 3473.0 48.9 49.8 39.3
Jim Palmer 3948.0 48.3 43.6 35.4
Steve Carlton 5217.2 46.7 48.2 37.2
Robin Roberts 4688.2 46.6 47.3 36.9
Gaylord Perry 5350.0 45.8 44.4 38.0
Juan Marichal 3507.0 43.8 37.4 35.3
Curt Schilling 3261.0 42.5 51.6 35.2
Don Sutton 5282.1 40.9 37.2 36.1
Sandy Koufax 2324.1 40.8 34.1 37.7
Fergie Jenkins 4500.2 40.6 41.3 35.9
Bert Blyleven 4970.0 39.3 45.8 36.3
Roy Halladay 2749.1 39.1 37.2 35.5
Whitey Ford 3170.1 38.3 44.7 36.9
Billy Pierce 3296.2 38.0 39.1 38.2
Mike Mussina 3562.2 37.3 40.7 34.3
Jim Bunning 3760.1 36.2 38.0 37.0
Trevor Hoffman 1089.1 36.0 20.4 69.0
Phil Niekro 5404.0 36.0 43.2 37.9
Don Drysdale 3432.0 35.3 37.4 36.9
Kevin Brown 3256.1 34.6 36.9 36.9
Dennis Eckersley 3285.2 33.6 30.1 41.9
Rich Gossage 1809.1 32.7 18.8 57.5
Luis Tiant 3486.1 32.7 30.8 36.7
Hoyt Wilhelm 2254.1 32.7 31.5 48.4
Tim Hudson 3126.2 32.3 33.6 35.3
Nolan Ryan 5386.0 32.3 31.9 38.7
Clayton Kershaw 1611.0 31.9 30.5 35.9
Bob Lemon 2850.0 31.0 28.4 37.2
Joe Nathan 917.0 30.5 17.8 57.8
Billy Wagner 903.0 30.5 23.2 65.3
Roy Oswalt 2245.1 30.1 33.4 35.0
Bret Saberhagen 2562.2 30.1 30.5 35.5
Rick Reuschel 3548.1 29.4 34.4 38.1
Jerry Koosman 3839.1 28.8 27.5 37.1
Johan Santana 2025.2 28.5 31.9 33.8
Tommy John 4710.1 27.8 24.9 37.7
Ellis Kinder 1479.2 27.8 21.9 42.6
Larry Jackson 3262.2 27.5 29.2 37.1
Early Wynn 3849.1 27.0 30.8 37.7
Zack Greinke 2094.2 26.9 22.4 35.0
Steve Rogers 2837.2 26.9 29.9 37.7
Francisco Rodriguez 892.1 26.7 17.4 64.7
David Cone 2898.2 26.6 30.9 36.2
Sam McDowell 2492.1 26.6 22.6 40.3
Tug McGraw 1514.2 25.7 15.9 48.8
Cole Hamels 2013.2 25.4 26.8 36.2
Sal Maglie 1638.2 25.0 22.0 37.1
Virgil Trucks 2304.2 24.5 26.7 39.6
Doc Gooden 2800.2 24.4 23.3 37.8
Lee Smith 1289.1 24.4 20.7 67.3
Kevin Appier 2595.1 24.2 25.1 36.4
Stu Miller 1693.1 24.2 16.9 47.4
Hal Newhouser 1676.2 24.2 23.3 38.6
Andy Messersmith 2230.1 24.1 23.6 36.3
Andy Pettitte 3316.0 23.9 27.9 36.0
Milt Pappas 3186.0 23.6 27.5 35.3
Mike Cuellar 2808.0 23.5 16.7 36.9
Felix Hernandez 2262.1 23.5 21.9 37.2
Jimmy Key 2591.2 23.1 25.1 35.3
Frank Viola 2836.1 22.9 19.9 36.2
Dave McNally 2730.0 22.5 21.3 35.6
Dave Stieb 2895.1 22.5 27.3 36.8
Mel Parnell 1752.2 22.2 24.7 37.5
Jim Maloney 1849.0 22.1 21.3 35.9
Harry Brecheen 1422.1 21.9 23.4 38.3
Tom Gordon 2108.0 21.8 14.3 43.6
John Franco 1245.2 21.7 14.5 67.8
Bruce Sutter 1042.0 21.5 15.4 71.7
Curt Simmons 3348.1 21.4 23.0 36.2
Randy Myers 884.2 21.3 13.0 67.9
Mike Garcia 2174.2 21.2 22.6 40.4
John Candelaria 2525.2 21.1 23.0 37.1
Orel Hershiser 3130.1 21.0 21.2 37.9
Vida Blue 3343.1 20.9 17.5 36.4
Cc Sabathia 2988.2 20.8 25.5 35.7
Dennis Martinez 3999.2 20.6 18.5 36.3
Tom Henke 789.2 20.5 14.8 62.1
John Tudor 1797.0 20.5 20.8 36.2
Ron Guidry 2392.0 20.4 21.8 35.0
Bob Feller 2306.2 20.0 19.1 36.1
Burt Hooton 2652.0 20.0 20.1 37.6
Al Leiter 2391.0 20.0 21.4 37.2
Dan Quisenberry 1043.1 20.0 12.3 55.5
Brandon Webb 1319.2 20.0 21.7 37.2
Keith Foulke 786.2 19.8 15.3 49.3
Todd Jones 1072.0 19.7 8.3 60.1
Gary Nolan 1674.2 19.5 20.1 36.0
David Wells 3439.0 19.5 17.9 35.6
John Wetteland 765.0 19.5 11.6 65.8
Chris Carpenter 2219.1 19.4 21.1 35.9
Johnny Antonelli 1992.1 19.3 16.7 38.0
Jim Perry 3285.2 19.3 19.2 34.8
Kent Tekulve 1436.2 19.3 20.2 51.9
Don Newcombe 2154.2 19.0 24.0 34.4
Adam Wainwright 1569.2 19.0 23.9 35.4
Matt Cain 1872.0 18.4 19.8 35.7
Cliff Lee 2156.2 18.4 18.9 34.7
Jered Weaver 1847.0 18.4 18.5 35.3
Johnny Podres 2265.0 18.2 18.1 35.5
Armando Benitez 779.0 18.1 12.9 61.6
Carlos Zambrano 1959.0 18.0 22.1 35.7
Preacher Roe 1491.1 17.8 20.7 36.3
Denny Neagle 1890.1 17.6 16.8 34.7
Justin Verlander 2111.1 17.6 22.1 35.2
Mark Buehrle 3283.1 17.3 25.8 34.4
Jon Matlack 2363.0 17.0 15.6 37.1
Jim Kaat 4530.1 16.9 19.9 36.5
Vic Raschi 1819.0 16.9 15.8 38.6
Fernando Valenzuela 2930.0 16.8 12.4 38.5
Andy Benes 2505.1 16.6 15.9 36.3
Mike Jackson 1188.1 16.6 13.6 46.8
Bobby Shantz 1935.2 16.6 19.7 36.4
Harvey Haddix 2235.0 16.5 18.1 36.9
Mario Soto 1730.1 16.5 15.2 37.6
Teddy Higuera 1380.0 16.4 10.7 37.2
Claude Osteen 3460.2 16.4 15.3 36.3
Chris Sale 883.1 16.4 13.3 37.0
Allie Reynolds 1883.1 16.3 18.7 39.3
John Hiller 1242.0 16.2 15.9 52.6
Al Brazle 1289.0 16.1 13.8 42.9
Rollie Fingers 1701.1 15.9 15.5 58.3
Mickey Lolich 3638.1 15.9 19.1 37.0
Jake Peavy 2258.1 15.8 20.5 35.2
Mel Stottlemyre 2661.1 15.8 17.8 36.7
Bob Veale 1926.0 15.8 14.8 38.0
Ed Lopat 2030.0 15.7 21.4 35.7
Sparky Lyle 1390.1 15.7 9.9 53.7
Jason Schmidt 1996.1 15.7 18.7 36.7
Catfish Hunter 3449.1 15.6 18.1 35.2
Bob Purkey 2114.2 15.6 14.7 36.6
Jeff Reardon 1132.1 15.5 11.5 63.8
Dean Chance 2147.1 15.3 18.4 39.6
Bob Forsch 2794.2 15.3 9.9 34.7
Johnny Cueto 1420.1 15.1 16.1 35.6
Chuck Finley 3197.1 15.1 20.3 36.4
Bob Welch 3092.0 15.1 16.3 37.1
Howie Pollet 1809.2 14.9 15.9 39.1
Jack McDowell 1889.0 14.8 12.6 36.5
Jeff Montgomery 868.2 14.8 8.2 64.4
Lindy McDaniel 2139.1 14.7 12.3 44.5
Mike Henneman 732.2 14.6 7.8 60.1
Ramon Martinez 1895.2 14.6 10.5 36.7
Jim O’Toole 1615.1 14.6 12.6 37.4
Larry Jansen 1765.2 14.4 16.4 37.1
Jon Lester 1801.0 14.3 18.0 35.4
Bob Rush 2410.2 14.3 17.7 38.0
Josh Beckett 2051.0 14.2 16.4 35.0
Joe Dobson 1510.2 14.2 19.2 36.4
Carl Erskine 1718.2 14.1 13.3 35.8
Willie Hernandez 1044.2 14.1 8.8 44.4
Don Mossi 1548.0 14.1 13.8 38.2
Joe Horlen 2002.0 14.0 13.4 36.9
Jack Morris 3824.0 14.0 12.5 36.2
Sonny Siebert 2152.0 14.0 14.6 36.5
Frank Sullivan 1732.0 14.0 18.0 36.4
Mark Langston 2962.2 13.9 13.1 37.0
Lew Burdette 3067.1 13.7 10.8 37.0
Doug Jones 1128.1 13.7 10.9 56.1
Denny McLain 1886.0 13.7 11.7 34.7
Max Scherzer 1468.0 13.7 14.8 34.4
Bob Friend 3611.0 13.6 22.5 36.9
Dick Hall 1259.2 13.5 10.6 39.7
Jesse Orosco 1295.1 13.5 17.3 51.3
Ray Culp 1898.1 13.4 8.4 37.4
Bill Lee 1944.1 13.4 9.8 36.3
Bob Stanley 1707.0 13.4 10.3 45.8
Joaquin Benoit 970.1 13.3 11.4 40.9
Bartolo Colon 2980.2 13.3 17.6 34.1
Yovani Gallardo 1473.2 13.3 11.6 35.7
Ron Perranoski 1174.2 13.3 7.9 53.2
Don Wilson 1748.1 13.2 12.6 37.8
Joe Nuxhall 2302.0 13.1 17.4 34.9
Jose Rijo 1880.0 13.0 19.1 35.4
Steve Bedrosian 1191.0 12.9 10.8 51.9
Sid Fernandez 1866.2 12.8 16.8 35.4
Darryl Kile 2165.1 12.8 13.0 36.7
Zane Smith 1919.1 12.8 7.7 37.7
Ewell Blackwell 1318.0 12.7 14.4 40.6
Ken Raffensberger 1727.0 12.7 11.4 38.6
Ron Reed 2477.1 12.7 16.0 39.4
Johnny Sain 2028.2 12.7 13.1 39.7
Dan Haren 2419.2 12.6 15.8 34.3
Frank Lary 2162.1 12.6 18.4 37.0
Arthur Rhodes 1187.2 12.6 10.8 45.3
Bob Buhl 2587.0 12.5 11.9 38.3
Pedro Astacio 2196.2 12.4 9.5 36.0
Fred Hutchinson 1303.1 12.3 15.6 36.2
Tim Lincecum 1643.2 12.3 12.1 36.3
Dave Righetti 1403.2 12.3 8.0 53.4
Octavio Dotel 951.0 12.1 11.2 47.9
Tippy Martinez 834.0 12.0 6.0 47.7
Javier Vazquez 2840.0 11.9 17.8 34.9
Clay Carroll 1353.1 11.8 12.3 45.2
Ned Garver 2477.1 11.8 19.2 37.6
Derek Lowe 2671.1 11.8 13.2 37.7
Greg Minton 1130.2 11.7 9.2 53.5
Ismael Valdez 1827.1 11.7 10.9 35.4
Danny Graves 808.1 11.6 3.7 48.9
Pat Hentgen 2075.1 11.6 10.7 35.4
Gary Peters 2081.0 11.6 13.4 35.6
Jim Brewer 1040.1 11.4 7.1 50.8
Madison Bumgarner 1171.0 11.4 11.5 34.8
Stan Williams 1764.1 11.4 10.0 38.0
Don Gullett 1390.0 11.2 14.0 36.9
Vern Law 2672.0 11.2 11.6 35.1
Alejandro Pena 1057.2 11.2 9.8 39.1
Mike Scott 2068.2 11.2 9.1 36.9
Mike Stanton 1114.0 11.2 8.7 44.8
Jamie Moyer 4074.0 11.1 16.1 34.3
Jeff Shaw 848.0 11.1 9.4 49.2
Chris Short 2325.0 11.1 13.6 40.0
Kerry Wood 1380.0 11.1 15.4 41.5
Rod Beck 768.0 11.0 8.7 57.2
Dave Dravecky 1062.2 11.0 11.2 36.5
Josh Johnson 998.0 11.0 12.1 36.5
Dave Koslo 1489.2 10.9 13.7 39.1
Mike Remlinger 879.0 10.9 8.5 42.1
J.R. Richard 1606.0 10.9 10.5 37.9
Al Hrabosky 722.0 10.8 6.1 52.9
David Price 1441.2 10.8 13.1 34.6
Bronson Arroyo 2364.2 10.6 10.8 34.5
Francisco Cordero 824.2 10.6 9.9 63.3
Bill Henry 913.0 10.6 8.9 40.6
Orlando Hernandez 1314.2 10.6 10.2 35.4
Aurelio Lopez 910.0 10.6 3.4 43.2
John Smiley 1907.2 10.6 8.6 36.1
Jose DeLeon 1897.1 10.5 11.9 37.0
Ben Sheets 1596.2 10.4 13.0 34.1
Alex Fernandez 1760.1 10.3 12.6 35.7
Bob Turley 1712.2 10.3 11.1 38.4
Pete Richert 1165.2 10.2 6.7 41.6
Ralph Branca 1329.2 10.1 11.6 36.3
Dick Donovan 2017.1 10.1 12.0 37.1
Doug Drabek 2535.0 10.1 12.6 36.1
Mickey McDermott 1316.2 10.1 9.9 36.8
Ray Narleski 702.0 10.1 5.9 40.6
Bob Shaw 1778.0 10.1 10.9 38.6
Hank Aguirre 1375.1 10.0 14.1 37.2
Jeff Brantley 859.1 10.0 8.7 52.4
Terry Forster 1105.2 10.0 7.5 49.9
Dizzy Trout 1243.0 10.0 13.2 38.5
Larry Dierker 2333.2 9.9 15.5 35.6
Jim Hearn 1703.2 9.9 7.9 35.5
Wilson Alvarez 1747.2 9.8 10.0 34.9
Charlie Leibrandt 2308.0 9.8 10.8 36.2
Rick Rhoden 2593.2 9.8 13.7 36.5
Mike Flanagan 2770.0 9.7 4.7 36.4
Bill Hands 1951.0 9.7 16.7 36.0
Brad Radke 2451.0 9.7 17.6 34.0
Ernie Broglio 1337.1 9.6 12.0 37.1
Rick Honeycutt 2160.0 9.6 4.4 38.4
Joey Jay 1546.1 9.6 7.5 36.7
Ted Lilly 1982.2 9.6 11.5 34.4
Hideo Nomo 1976.1 9.6 8.6 36.6
Jim Brosnan 831.1 9.5 9.9 39.7
Ken Holtzman 2867.1 9.5 10.4 34.9
Bill Monbouquette 1961.1 9.5 9.7 34.9
Tom Brewer 1509.1 9.4 10.8 38.3
Dave Giusti 1716.2 9.4 2.2 41.8
Charlie Hough 3801.1 9.4 12.0 37.3
Rick Wise 3127.1 9.4 9.9 36.9
Juan Guzman 1483.1 9.3 7.9 36.5
Dave LaRoche 1049.1 9.3 4.7 48.6
Herb Score 858.1 9.3 8.8 39.6
Al Worthington 1246.2 9.3 7.0 47.3
Murry Dickson 2810.2 9.2 20.7 37.4
Mudcat Grant 2442.0 9.2 8.1 36.7
Jim Konstanty 833.0 9.2 6.1 44.4
Scott Sullivan 737.1 9.2 9.2 35.2
John Denny 2148.2 9.1 13.2 36.4
Pascual Perez 1244.1 9.1 9.1 36.9
Jarrod Washburn 1863.2 9.1 10.3 34.8
Kelvim Escobar 1507.0 9.0 11.3 39.0
Eddie Guardado 944.2 9.0 5.8 46.6
Clem Labine 1079.2 9.0 7.7 44.2
Don McMahon 1310.2 9.0 12.2 43.7
Rick Aguilera 1291.1 8.8 10.2 52.0
Jack Kralick 1218.0 8.8 10.8 36.8
Dutch Leonard 1087.1 8.8 8.6 41.2
James Shields 2112.2 8.8 11.6 34.8
Rick Sutcliffe 2697.2 8.8 10.2 36.7
Greg Swindell 2233.1 8.8 10.4 35.3
Ralph Terry 1849.1 8.8 7.6 33.9
Joe Hatten 1087.0 8.7 6.2 36.9
Mark Mulder 1314.0 8.7 7.4 35.9
Tom Burgmeier 1258.2 8.6 7.9 39.1
Freddy Garcia 2264.0 8.6 14.0 34.8
Al McBean 1072.1 8.6 8.9 42.6
Juan Pizarro 2034.1 8.6 8.6 37.8
Stephen Strasburg 776.2 8.6 8.4 34.7
Barry Zito 2576.2 8.6 12.9 34.9
Rheal Cormier 1221.2 8.5 8.4 37.9
Mark Eichhorn 885.2 8.5 11.1 39.4
Rich Harden 928.1 8.5 8.6 34.8
Dave Smith 809.1 8.5 6.8 58.2
Steve Reed 870.2 8.4 15.2 38.0
Bobby Bolin 1576.0 8.3 7.8 38.6
Steve Gromek 1538.1 8.3 9.0 34.6
John Lackey 2481.1 8.3 12.4 36.2
Rick Reed 1545.2 8.3 10.2 33.5
Jerry Reuss 3669.2 8.3 9.0 37.4
Steve Trachsel 2501.0 8.3 9.2 35.9
Bob Wickman 1059.0 8.3 8.9 59.0
Bob Howry 787.2 8.2 8.9 46.6
Don Robinson 1958.1 8.2 5.7 39.4
Kenny Rogers 3302.2 8.2 10.3 37.0
Frank Tanana 4188.1 8.2 10.3 36.1
Sam Jones 1643.1 8.1 10.7 38.1
Jon Lieber 2198.0 8.1 8.9 34.7
Scott Sanderson 2561.2 8.1 11.9 34.1
Doug Bair 909.1 8.0 0.7 41.0
Larry Gura 2047.0 8.0 6.1 35.0
Roberto Hernandez 1071.1 8.0 9.4 61.2
Eric Show 1655.0 8.0 6.3 36.9
Camilo Pascual 2930.2 7.9 17.1 36.5
Doug Rau 1261.0 7.9 7.9 36.5
Gary Bell 2015.0 7.8 6.6 38.4
Sandy Consuegra 809.1 7.8 8.4 35.9
Eddie Fisher 1538.2 7.8 5.4 34.4
Woody Williams 2216.1 7.8 12.0 34.7
Steve Busby 1060.2 7.7 4.6 37.5
Curtis Leskanic 712.2 7.7 9.7 40.5
Bud Black 2053.1 7.6 6.6 36.2
Gene Conley 1588.2 7.6 7.4 37.4
Jason Isringhausen 1007.2 7.6 8.0 52.5
Bob Tewksbury 1807.0 7.6 6.8 35.0
Sam Zoldak 821.0 7.6 7.0 35.3
Nelson Briles 2111.2 7.5 8.7 34.8
Gio Gonzalez 1264.2 7.5 8.0 35.1
Mark Gubicza 2223.1 7.5 10.6 36.1
Mike Hampton 2268.1 7.5 12.4 35.9
Joe Niekro 3584.1 7.5 8.3 37.1
Don Aase 1109.1 7.4 3.7 43.7
Pete Harnisch 1959.0 7.4 11.8 36.0
Jordan Zimmermann 1094.0 7.4 11.5 34.2
A.J. Burnett 2731.1 7.3 8.9 36.4
Al Downing 2268.1 7.3 11.5 37.1
Bill Gullickson 2560.0 7.3 6.9 34.8
Grant Jackson 1358.2 7.3 6.8 40.5
Hiroki Kuroda 1319.0 7.3 8.2 35.0
Doyle Alexander 3367.2 7.2 12.6 35.0
Larry Andersen 995.1 7.2 6.6 40.6
Bruce Hurst 2417.1 7.2 11.8 36.0
Dennis Leonard 2187.0 7.2 9.0 35.4
Mark Portugal 1826.1 7.2 7.8 36.3
Britt Burns 1094.1 7.1 5.8 36.5
Kevin Millwood 2720.1 7.1 13.1 35.5
Jim Barr 2065.1 7.0 11.2 35.0
Mike Boddicker 2123.2 7.0 8.3 35.4
Tom Browning 1921.0 7.0 7.8 34.8
Ubaldo Jimenez 1585.0 7.0 10.3 36.5
Turk Farrell 1704.2 6.9 8.0 42.7
Ken Forsch 2127.1 6.9 10.8 41.0
Wade Miller 894.1 6.9 8.8 35.1
Matt Morris 1806.0 6.9 10.5 36.0
Ben McDonald 1291.1 6.8 9.6 34.5
Gene Garber 1510.0 6.7 9.9 49.8
Jack Harshman 1169.1 6.7 8.5 38.4
Dustin Hermanson 1283.0 6.7 6.0 37.5
Roger McDowell 1050.0 6.7 5.8 53.9
Roger Moret 723.1 6.6 4.5 35.2
Bob Porterfield 1567.2 6.6 8.2 37.2
Tom Candiotti 2725.0 6.5 7.9 36.7
Norm Charlton 899.1 6.5 3.6 47.9
Mat Latos 1068.1 6.5 7.5 37.2
Joe Magrane 1096.2 6.5 4.9 37.3
Anibal Sanchez 1334.0 6.5 8.0 35.3
Larry Sherry 799.1 6.5 2.2 46.3
Bryn Smith 1791.1 6.5 8.6 34.1
Steve Barber 1999.0 6.4 7.4 38.2
Pedro Borbon 1026.2 6.4 5.0 37.6
Doug Davis 1715.2 6.4 6.6 36.7
Chris Young 1179.0 6.4 8.3 34.8
Pat Jarvis 1284.0 6.3 8.4 36.2
Russ Meyer 1531.1 6.3 6.9 37.6
Carl Morton 1648.2 6.3 8.0 39.0
Red Munger 1014.1 6.3 7.6 38.4
Jack Sanford 2049.1 6.3 6.0 36.4
Ray Washburn 1210.0 6.3 4.5 35.2
Mike Marshall 1386.2 6.2 11.9 55.8
Pete Vuckovich 1455.1 6.2 3.3 38.5
Wade Davis 733.1 6.1 4.3 38.1
Chan Ho Park 1993.0 6.1 5.4 36.2
Jim Rooker 1810.1 6.1 9.9 35.8
Rick Camp 942.1 6.0 5.8 38.9
Art Fowler 1024.0 6.0 7.4 36.2
Craig Lefferts 1145.2 6.0 8.2 43.2
Denny Lemaster 1787.2 5.9 7.9 37.9
Dan Schatzeder 1317.0 5.9 2.5 32.2
Dave Wickersham 1123.0 5.9 3.2 36.7
Wilbur Wood 2684.0 5.9 12.4 36.7
Steve Avery 1554.2 5.8 5.2 36.0
Larry Christenson 1402.2 5.8 6.9 35.8
Aaron Harang 2322.0 5.8 6.2 35.8
Vic Lombardi 741.0 5.8 5.7 36.4
Lance Lynn 791.1 5.8 7.3 37.2
Ray Moore 1072.2 5.8 3.8 39.7
Lou Brissie 897.2 5.7 3.0 38.5
Ike Delock 1238.0 5.7 6.4 40.8
Connie Johnson 716.0 5.7 6.0 38.5
Andy Ashby 1810.2 5.6 5.9 36.0
Chad Billingsley 1212.1 5.6 6.8 37.2
Dock Ellis 2128.0 5.6 7.4 37.2
Doug Fister 1085.2 5.6 6.8 34.7
Gary Gentry 902.2 5.6 5.1 36.3
Ron Kline 2078.0 5.6 3.9 40.4
Earl Wilson 2051.2 5.6 9.3 34.5
Roy Face 1375.0 5.5 9.0 48.8
Greg Harris 909.1 5.5 5.1 38.2
Byung-Hyun Kim 841.0 5.5 4.8 43.9
Fred Norman 1939.2 5.5 7.6 36.4
Tom Sturdivant 1137.0 5.5 8.1 35.0
Joaquin Andujar 2153.0 5.4 6.8 37.6
Stan Bahnsen 2529.0 5.4 5.0 35.2
Aaron Cook 1406.1 5.4 7.8 34.9
Jair Jurrjens 767.1 5.4 6.1 36.3
Scott McGregor 2140.2 5.4 2.6 35.4
Jose Mesa 1548.2 5.4 1.3 49.5
Bob Moose 1303.1 5.4 6.7 36.5
Ed Roebuck 791.0 5.4 3.5 37.9
Jake Arrieta 795.1 5.3 5.7 35.4
Jim Nash 1107.1 5.3 3.1 37.1
Dick Ruthven 2109.0 5.3 3.9 37.7
Ryan Dempster 2387.0 5.2 8.0 38.1
Billy O’Dell 1817.0 5.2 10.6 38.5
Bill Campbell 1229.1 5.1 8.0 47.9
Francisco Cordova 753.2 5.1 6.8 35.1
Danny Cox 1298.0 5.1 5.2 36.8
Armando Reynoso 1079.2 5.1 7.6 36.2
Johnny Schmitz 1705.1 5.1 9.7 40.4
Tim Belcher 2442.2 5.0 6.1 36.6
Ed Halicki 1063.0 5.0 3.3 35.8
Andy McGaffigan 833.1 5.0 6.2 33.6
Don Stanhouse 760.1 5.0 -1.3 46.7
Paul Assenmacher 855.2 4.9 7.7 46.8
Frank Baumann 797.1 4.9 1.3 33.9
Steve Farr 824.1 4.9 6.9 44.1
Vinegar Bend Mizell 1528.2 4.9 9.7 37.7
Darren Oliver 1915.2 4.9 7.0 36.5
Bill Singer 2174.0 4.9 3.0 38.8
Dave Boswell 1065.1 4.8 5.9 35.8
Wally Bunker 1085.1 4.8 5.0 33.8
Dick Ellsworth 2155.2 4.8 7.8 38.4
Scott Garrelts 959.1 4.8 5.2 45.5
Walt Masterson 1215.0 4.8 5.1 37.2
Randy Wolf 2328.1 4.8 9.8 35.1
Scott Baker 1064.2 4.7 4.0 33.3
Don Carman 921.2 4.7 1.4 36.9
Scott Downs 751.1 4.7 4.4 44.0
Alan Embree 774.0 4.7 2.3 39.7
Jose Guzman 1224.1 4.7 4.1 36.9
Tom Hall 852.2 4.7 3.9 35.5
Billy Loes 1190.1 4.7 6.2 39.5
Shaun Marcum 1030.0 4.7 6.3 34.9
Bill Stafford 785.2 4.7 5.3 36.8
Erik Hanson 1555.1 4.6 4.4 35.9
Dontrelle Willis 1221.2 4.6 5.2 36.5
Doug Brocail 880.0 4.5 4.3 37.2
Hal Brown 1680.0 4.5 5.7 34.2
Clay Buchholz 1028.1 4.5 6.7 35.7
Jeff Russell 1099.2 4.5 4.2 49.2
Tim Wakefield 3226.1 4.5 6.6 35.0
Floyd Bannister 2388.0 4.4 5.1 34.9
Woodie Fryman 2411.1 4.4 5.6 40.5
Johnny Klippstein 1967.2 4.4 -0.2 36.7
Bob Locker 879.0 4.4 6.4 43.7
Lynn McGlothen 1497.2 4.4 4.4 35.0
Jorge De La Rosa 1281.1 4.3 5.8 33.7
Marv Grissom 810.0 4.3 6.7 42.3
Spec Shea 943.2 4.3 3.7 36.4
Elias Sosa 918.0 4.3 6.0 44.6
Bill Swift 1599.2 4.3 4.1 36.6
Scott Bankhead 901.0 4.2 3.6 34.6
John Burkett 2648.1 4.2 7.6 35.5
Scott Kazmir 1553.1 4.2 5.7 35.5
Jim Kern 793.1 4.2 5.1 53.0
Tim Stoddard 729.2 4.2 2.4 40.4
Jim Bouton 1238.2 4.1 3.0 32.9
Dick Drago 1875.0 4.1 5.6 41.2
Jay Howell 844.2 4.1 4.1 54.4
La Marr Hoyt 1311.1 4.1 1.9 34.5
Randy Moffitt 781.1 4.1 2.3 48.6
Willard Nixon 1234.0 4.1 6.0 36.4
Odalis Perez 1335.0 4.1 3.8 34.7
Ted Power 1160.0 4.1 2.5 38.8
Dave Rozema 1106.0 4.1 7.0 34.6
Pat Dobson 2120.1 4.0 6.8 37.8
Jaime Garcia 724.1 4.0 3.9 35.8
Ken Hill 1973.0 4.0 10.5 36.8
Steve Kline 750.1 4.0 1.9 35.2
Shane Reynolds 1791.2 4.0 9.3 35.2
Mike Torrez 3043.2 4.0 5.4 37.2
David Weathers 1376.1 3.9 6.9 42.6
Dave Burba 1777.2 3.8 6.6 33.6
Greg Harris 1467.0 3.8 7.7 39.8
Mickey Harris 787.2 3.8 0.5 40.5
Ray Herbert 1881.1 3.8 3.8 37.5
Darold Knowles 1092.0 3.8 6.1 52.9
Jim Merritt 1483.0 3.8 6.3 35.1
Bob Miller 822.0 3.8 3.2 36.8
Ray Sadecki 2500.1 3.8 4.7 34.6
Rick Mahler 1951.1 3.7 3.1 34.7
Chad Qualls 758.0 3.7 4.9 49.4
Paul Splittorff 2554.2 3.7 1.3 35.8
Charlie Lea 923.1 3.6 3.7 36.5
Francisco Liriano 1350.0 3.6 4.9 35.5
Cal McLish 1525.0 3.6 3.9 36.1
Mark Petkovsek 710.0 3.6 -2.8 36.0
Steve Stone 1788.1 3.6 2.7 36.1
Steve Blass 1597.1 3.5 3.4 35.5
Chris Bosio 1710.0 3.5 5.3 34.9
Jim Hardin 751.2 3.5 3.0 35.5
Alex Kellner 1849.1 3.5 1.2 37.5
Mike Krukow 2190.2 3.5 3.9 36.2
Bob Ojeda 1884.1 3.5 6.3 36.8
David Palmer 1085.0 3.5 3.4 38.2
Kris Benson 1243.2 3.4 2.2 35.7
Danny Darwin 3016.2 3.4 10.3 37.0
Al Fitzmorris 1277.0 3.4 4.4 34.7
Ryan Franklin 1201.0 3.4 5.1 38.8
Shigetoshi Hasegawa 720.1 3.4 8.2 40.8
Orlando Pena 1202.0 3.4 4.9 35.2
Gerry Staley 1981.2 3.4 12.5 38.0
Harry Dorish 834.1 3.3 4.6 38.4
Paul Foytack 1498.0 3.3 6.3 33.7
Brooks Lawrence 1040.2 3.3 5.2 37.8
Jim Lonborg 2464.1 3.3 6.6 36.3
Hipolito Pichardo 769.2 3.3 1.7 39.6
Jose Quintana 743.0 3.3 5.2 36.6
Pedro Ramos 2355.2 3.3 2.0 37.1
Lee Stange 1216.0 3.3 4.8 36.0
Tim Worrell 973.2 3.3 0.4 42.7
Ken Heintzelman 964.0 3.2 4.2 37.7
Tom Hume 1086.0 3.2 1.6 42.9
Ken Johnson 1737.1 3.2 7.2 36.2
Frank Linzy 817.1 3.2 4.5 52.9
Turk Lown 1032.0 3.2 2.6 43.6
Mike McCormick 2380.1 3.2 4.6 36.2
Ramiro Mendoza 797.0 3.2 3.4 36.1
Roger Pavlik 743.0 3.2 2.2 36.4
Sammy Stewart 956.2 3.2 2.3 39.2
Jack Aker 746.0 3.1 1.1 51.2
Jon Garland 2151.1 3.1 5.5 35.5
Bruce Kison 1809.2 3.1 6.6 35.0
Gary Lavelle 1085.0 3.1 9.8 54.9
Brad Penny 1925.0 3.1 6.5 34.5
Omar Daal 1198.2 3.0 3.1 35.2
Sid Monge 764.0 3.0 0.8 41.8
Dan Petry 2080.1 3.0 1.7 35.8
C.J. Wilson 1430.1 3.0 4.6 38.6
Len Barker 1323.2 2.9 0.3 37.4
Rick Helling 1526.1 2.9 4.0 34.9
Braden Looper 1176.0 2.9 2.3 42.4
Fritz Peterson 2218.1 2.9 5.0 34.7
Cal Eldred 1368.0 2.8 5.9 36.0
Dick Fowler 1101.2 2.8 4.1 39.3
Sheldon Jones 920.0 2.8 4.6 36.8
Kirk Rueter 1918.0 2.8 4.9 34.5
Joe Gibbon 1119.2 2.7 3.3 36.9
Paul Lindblad 1213.2 2.7 3.2 37.6
John Montefusco 1652.1 2.7 5.8 36.5
Jeff Fassero 2033.2 2.6 8.4 38.0
Mike Fetters 716.2 2.6 0.6 46.8
Joe Hesketh 961.2 2.6 2.3 35.1
Phil Hughes 1145.2 2.6 2.7 35.0
Jim McAndrew 771.1 2.6 2.8 34.0
Ted Abernathy 1148.1 2.5 3.2 47.5
Elmer Dessens 1174.1 2.5 6.5 32.9
Matt Garza 1494.1 2.5 2.9 35.8
Tomo Ohka 1070.0 2.5 4.1 34.6
Ervin Santana 1990.2 2.5 2.1 35.1
Bill Bonham 1487.1 2.4 3.7 37.4
Mark Clear 804.1 2.4 1.0 49.6
Kirby Higbe 739.2 2.4 4.0 37.9
Charles Nagy 1954.2 2.4 3.9 35.3
Dan Plesac 1072.0 2.4 8.8 50.7
Saul Rogovin 883.2 2.4 1.9 38.4
Ray Scarborough 1279.1 2.4 0.8 36.2
Don Schwall 743.0 2.4 2.1 39.0
Mike Sirotka 710.1 2.4 1.1 34.6
Connie Marrero 735.1 2.3 4.5 37.5
Kent Mercker 1325.1 2.3 4.9 35.5
Brett Myers 1710.0 2.3 6.2 36.2
Vern Bickford 1076.1 2.2 3.8 39.2
Cliff Chambers 897.1 2.2 2.9 36.0
Matt Clement 1412.2 2.2 4.3 34.5
Jim Deshaies 1525.0 2.2 4.3 36.2
Bob Grim 759.2 2.2 3.7 41.3
Buddy Groom 734.2 2.2 1.8 37.8
Atlee Hammaker 1078.2 2.2 3.2 37.2
Paul Minner 1310.1 2.2 7.0 37.4
Harry Perkowski 697.2 2.2 0.7 33.4
Salomon Torres 847.1 2.2 2.3 42.0
Chien-Ming Wang 792.1 2.2 2.0 36.9
Jeremy Affeldt 926.0 2.1 3.5 38.3
John Buzhardt 1490.2 2.1 5.1 36.2
Dennis Cook 1011.2 2.1 4.7 36.6
Chuck Estrada 764.1 2.1 2.2 37.7
Tom Gorzelanny 880.2 2.1 2.3 32.4
Wade Miley 832.1 2.1 3.8 36.6
Marty Pattin 2038.2 2.1 6.1 35.0
Ron Robinson 800.0 2.1 2.9 37.0
Fernando Rodney 700.1 2.1 1.3 64.0
Jose Rosado 720.1 2.1 4.6 35.4
Kevin Tapani 2265.0 2.1 8.6 34.9
Mike Timlin 1204.1 2.1 9.6 46.4
Jack Billingham 2231.1 2.0 0.2 36.5
Tommy Byrne 1330.1 2.0 4.7 38.0
Joe Decker 710.0 2.0 0.3 33.4
Ed Figueroa 1309.2 2.0 4.9 36.1
Ted Gray 1134.0 2.0 0.0 36.8
Joey Hamilton 1340.2 2.0 0.8 36.6
Scott Karl 1002.0 2.0 1.5 35.4
Ian Kennedy 1234.2 2.0 2.5 35.7
Mark Thurmond 837.2 2.0 0.4 33.6
Ed Whitson 2240.0 2.0 4.1 35.6
Jim Colborn 1597.1 1.9 2.7 35.9
Moe Drabowsky 1641.0 1.9 4.4 39.6
Steve Hargan 1632.0 1.9 -4.1 37.5
Livan Hernandez 3189.0 1.9 5.1 36.1
Mike Leake 1083.2 1.9 3.9 34.9
Mitch Williams 691.1 1.9 3.0 60.1
Trevor Wilson 728.0 1.9 1.3 36.7
Gavin Floyd 1219.0 1.8 2.0 34.3
Bob Kuzava 862.0 1.8 3.1 36.9
Paul Maholm 1556.1 1.8 2.2 35.0
Ricky Romero 801.1 1.8 1.9 35.7
Jeff Samardzija 991.2 1.8 -0.1 35.0
Mike Bielecki 1231.0 1.7 2.6 36.9
Harry Byrd 827.2 1.7 0.0 39.6
Derek Holland 877.2 1.7 1.2 33.8
Duke Maas 734.2 1.7 -0.6 35.6
Jim McGlothlin 1300.1 1.7 2.9 35.1
Jim Wilson 1394.2 1.7 2.7 37.4
Masato Yoshii 757.1 1.7 4.2 32.0
Roger Craig 1536.1 1.6 6.2 36.2
Randy Gumpert 966.0 1.6 2.5 35.9
Art Houtteman 1529.2 1.6 2.4 36.1
Don Larsen 1548.0 1.6 4.7 35.4
Donovan Osborne 873.2 1.6 2.1 36.2
Aaron Sele 2153.0 1.6 1.0 35.2
Jerry Walker 747.0 1.6 0.1 33.9
Gene Bearden 788.1 1.5 2.8 35.8
Mike Fornieles 1156.2 1.5 6.1 38.1
Randy Jones 1933.0 1.5 2.6 38.2
Scott Kamieniecki 975.2 1.5 1.2 36.3
Paul Quantrill 1255.2 1.5 7.7 38.8
Jeff Robinson 901.1 1.5 -0.2 41.4
Craig Swan 1235.2 1.5 2.6 37.3
Ron Taylor 800.0 1.5 2.7 36.0
Johnny Vander Meer 858.2 1.5 3.6 38.7
Hal Woodeshick 847.1 1.5 -0.6 45.7
Ken Brett 1526.1 1.4 2.0 33.3
Doc Medich 1996.2 1.4 1.5 35.7
Todd Stottlemyre 2191.2 1.4 3.0 35.5
Chris Tillman 853.1 1.4 0.9 34.9
Tom Underwood 1586.0 1.4 3.0 38.9
Travis Wood 839.0 1.4 2.1 33.9
Homer Bailey 1010.0 1.3 2.7 35.5
Don Elston 755.2 1.3 3.7 47.6
Chris Hammond 1123.2 1.3 2.1 36.3
Cory Lidle 1322.2 1.3 2.2 34.2
Phil Marchildon 747.0 1.3 2.5 38.1
Eric Plunk 1151.0 1.3 4.6 39.1
Geoff Zahn 1849.0 1.3 4.4 35.9
Jim Gott 1120.0 1.2 4.2 42.7
Warren Hacker 1283.1 1.2 2.5 35.5
La Troy Hawkins 1467.1 1.2 4.1 42.3
Billy Hoeft 1847.1 1.2 7.2 36.9
Bob McClure 1158.2 1.2 0.4 36.4
Guillermo Mota 856.2 1.2 4.7 33.3
Julian Tavarez 1404.1 1.2 -1.0 38.4
Carl Willey 875.2 1.2 0.7 36.1
Frank Castillo 1595.1 1.1 1.9 35.0
Robert Person 897.1 1.1 1.1 35.8
Rolando Arrojo 700.0 1.0 2.3 36.3
Jim Beattie 1148.2 1.0 0.7 36.1
Jose Contreras 1173.0 1.0 2.0 37.0
Art Mahaffey 999.0 1.0 -0.1 34.5
Dennis Bennett 863.0 0.9 4.1 37.2
Doug Bird 1213.2 0.9 -1.3 39.4
Bubba Church 713.1 0.9 1.6 35.5
Ron Darling 2360.1 0.9 -0.6 36.8
Kevin Gross 2487.2 0.9 5.4 36.7
Cal Koonce 971.0 0.9 3.7 34.5
John Lannan 862.0 0.9 1.1 37.0
Carlos Perez 822.2 0.9 0.3 35.6
Joe Saunders 1387.1 0.9 -1.3 35.1
Claudio Vargas 764.2 0.9 0.6 33.1
Moose Haas 1655.0 0.8 1.0 35.0
Shane Rawley 1871.1 0.8 5.3 39.8
Bruce Ruffin 1268.0 0.8 2.4 37.9
Carlos Villanueva 924.2 0.8 4.4 33.7
Terry Adams 869.1 0.7 1.0 44.5
George Stone 1020.2 0.7 -0.4 34.1
Mickey Haefner 835.0 0.6 1.4 39.7
Luis Leal 946.0 0.6 1.4 36.2
Daisuke Matsuzaka 790.1 0.6 2.7 37.2
Steve Renko 2494.0 0.6 6.3 36.4
Bill Wight 1563.0 0.6 2.7 37.2
Tony Armas 925.2 0.5 0.8 34.5
Erik Bedard 1303.2 0.5 3.4 37.1
Don Cardwell 2123.0 0.5 2.7 35.7
George Culver 788.2 0.5 3.3 39.3
Sammy Ellis 1004.0 0.5 1.4 37.5
Ruben Gomez 1454.0 0.5 4.9 36.9
Don Lee 828.1 0.5 2.4 35.6
Tom Morgan 1023.1 0.5 6.4 38.8
Steve Parris 753.1 0.5 1.7 35.4
Phil Regan 1372.2 0.5 4.3 39.5
Dave Roberts 2099.0 0.5 4.4 38.3
Dave Schmidt 902.0 0.5 1.7 39.6
Tom Bradley 1017.2 0.4 0.4 34.2
Ron Bryant 917.0 0.4 -0.1 38.5
Jason Hammel 1336.1 0.4 1.9 34.1
Tom Poholsky 753.2 0.4 2.9 33.5
Dave Stewart 2629.2 0.4 1.8 36.0
John Curtis 1641.0 0.3 -0.6 35.9
Ron Herbel 894.1 0.3 -0.6 31.9
Luke Walker 825.1 0.3 2.7 33.5
Bruce Berenyi 781.2 0.2 -0.1 39.1
Gil Heredia 954.0 0.2 1.1 33.7
Bob Miller 1551.1 0.2 3.8 36.2
Pat Zachry 1177.1 0.2 3.2 36.3
Jim Acker 904.1 0.1 0.7 32.7
Art Ditmar 1268.0 0.1 2.5 35.7
Kelly Downs 963.2 0.1 1.5 36.2
Ken McBride 807.2 0.1 3.0 37.2
Brandon Morrow 768.2 0.1 1.6 38.3
Victor Zambrano 706.1 0.1 -1.1 38.6
Russ Ortiz 1661.1 0.0 0.8 35.9
Paul Byrd 1697.0 0.0 2.4 33.8
Dave Goltz 2039.2 0.0 4.8 36.1
Greg Hibbard 990.0 0.0 -0.1 36.5
Brandon McCarthy 1012.1 0.0 1.6 34.3
Allan Anderson 818.2 -0.1 0.6 34.0
Shawn Chacon 922.0 -0.1 1.6 38.3
Bruce DalCanton 931.1 -0.1 0.5 35.1
Wandy Rodriguez 1557.1 -0.1 2.2 33.8
Matt Belisle 788.0 -0.2 3.1 38.2
J.A. Happ 1012.2 -0.2 1.1 33.8
Les Lancaster 703.2 -0.2 1.1 36.5
Larry McWilliams 1558.1 -0.2 1.5 35.1
Milt Wilcox 2016.2 -0.2 1.6 35.8
Mike Witt 2108.1 -0.2 3.7 36.7
Juan Berenguer 1205.1 -0.3 3.9 34.6
Trevor Cahill 1083.2 -0.3 1.2 34.4
Steve Comer 701.2 -0.3 -2.9 38.9
Jeff Francis 1291.0 -0.3 1.0 33.7
Hal Jeffcoat 697.0 -0.3 0.2 37.7
Mike Morgan 2772.1 -0.3 4.6 34.8
Arnie Portocarrero 817.1 -0.3 -0.8 33.5
John Thomson 1270.1 -0.3 5.0 34.2
Bill Fischer 831.1 -0.4 0.3 37.1
Mike Norris 1124.1 -0.4 -1.5 36.1
Hector Carrasco 832.1 -0.5 2.7 34.7
Dennis Lamp 1830.2 -0.5 2.0 35.7
Rollie Sheldon 724.2 -0.5 0.3 36.0
Dick Stigman 922.2 -0.5 1.6 36.8
Oil Can Boyd 1389.2 -0.6 2.9 34.3
Mike Caldwell 2408.2 -0.6 -1.5 35.4
Jeff D’Amico 784.0 -0.6 -0.1 33.9
Karl Drews 826.2 -0.6 -3.4 36.7
Skip Lockwood 1236.0 -0.6 4.4 41.4
Kirk McCaskill 1729.0 -0.6 -2.4 36.1
Eddie Solomon 718.0 -0.6 -1.0 34.4
Darren Dreifort 872.2 -0.7 1.1 38.0
Pete Schourek 1149.0 -0.7 -0.1 34.0
Jeff Suppan 2542.2 -0.7 -0.2 35.4
Bob Anderson 840.2 -0.8 -0.7 37.6
Mark Clark 1246.1 -0.8 -0.6 36.0
Tom Phoebus 1030.0 -0.8 4.3 36.2
Bill Voiselle 788.1 -0.8 2.8 41.3
John Butcher 833.2 -0.9 0.1 35.5
Jeremy Hellickson 786.0 -0.9 0.8 34.0
Gil Meche 1432.1 -0.9 0.6 35.6
Vicente Padilla 1571.1 -0.9 3.9 37.8
Oliver Perez 1294.0 -0.9 -2.5 36.4
Ed Rakow 761.1 -0.9 0.0 35.6
Fred Sanford 734.2 -0.9 0.9 39.4
Mike Williams 768.1 -0.9 0.8 47.5
Chris Capuano 1405.2 -1.0 0.2 34.8
Scott Feldman 1198.0 -1.0 0.1 33.2
Howie Fox 941.2 -1.0 0.2 39.5
Jason Jennings 1128.1 -1.0 3.1 35.6
Jimmy Jones 755.0 -1.0 -6.6 33.4
Dick Selma 840.2 -1.0 3.0 40.5
Danys Baez 697.0 -1.1 1.7 49.4
Jack Baldschun 704.0 -1.1 -2.6 43.1
Joe Coleman 2569.1 -1.1 0.4 35.6
Richard Dotson 1857.1 -1.1 -0.2 37.1
Chad Gaudin 836.1 -1.1 -2.8 31.0
Don Nottebart 928.1 -1.1 -1.1 35.4
Erv Palica 839.1 -1.1 2.6 35.2
Frank Pastore 986.1 -1.1 -1.9 35.0
Ken Schrom 900.0 -1.1 -3.8 34.5
Mike Trombley 795.2 -1.1 1.6 41.1
Mark Leiter 1184.1 -1.2 -0.8 37.2
Rudy May 2622.0 -1.2 7.6 36.8
Jeff Parrett 724.2 -1.2 3.4 38.7
Steve Ridzik 782.2 -1.2 -0.1 32.9
Ron Villone 1168.0 -1.2 1.5 32.1
Chad Durbin 836.1 -1.3 -4.1 32.3
Nino Espinosa 820.1 -1.3 -0.3 35.6
Brian Lawrence 963.0 -1.3 1.6 36.6
Joe Price 906.0 -1.3 4.3 34.5
Dick Tidrow 1746.2 -1.3 2.2 35.3
Jason Vargas 1209.2 -1.3 0.5 35.1
John Farrell 698.2 -1.4 -2.0 36.4
Lerrin LaGrow 779.0 -1.4 -3.1 38.5
Esteban Loaiza 2099.0 -1.4 2.4 35.6
Dave Morehead 819.1 -1.4 0.3 36.0
John Cerutti 861.0 -1.5 -1.1 33.7
Bud Daley 967.1 -1.5 -0.6 38.7
John Dopson 725.1 -1.5 -0.3 35.9
Monte Kennedy 961.0 -1.5 3.3 36.5
Terry Mulholland 2575.2 -1.5 -1.3 34.8
Neil Allen 988.1 -1.6 -0.1 42.5
George Brunet 1431.2 -1.6 -0.1 37.3
Storm Davis 1780.2 -1.6 0.5 35.6
Jeremy Guthrie 1764.2 -1.6 1.3 33.5
Mark Guthrie 978.2 -1.6 3.9 36.6
Bob Hendley 879.1 -1.6 -1.6 36.8
Eric King 863.1 -1.6 0.9 36.8
Clay Kirby 1548.0 -1.6 -2.1 38.0
Dave LaPoint 1486.2 -1.6 -2.3 36.5
Ed Lynch 940.1 -1.6 -0.9 32.5
Bob Milacki 795.2 -1.6 -2.8 35.2
Tom Murphy 1444.0 -1.6 0.2 41.4
Jon Niese 1068.1 -1.6 -1.9 35.6
Pat Rapp 1387.1 -1.6 1.5 36.2
Paul Abbott 720.2 -1.7 -2.5 32.7
Brian Anderson 1547.0 -1.7 -1.9 32.1
Bill Laskey 745.1 -1.7 -1.9 34.6
Kent Bottenfield 911.2 -1.8 1.4 34.9
Ron Davis 746.2 -1.8 0.5 50.9
Sterling Hitchcock 1285.2 -1.8 -1.9 34.7
Charles Hudson 1007.2 -1.8 0.8 34.2
Edinson Volquez 1243.0 -1.8 -1.2 36.6
Kyle Lohse 2522.1 -1.9 2.2 34.5
Ron Schueler 912.1 -1.9 1.8 33.8
Reggie Cleveland 1809.0 -2.0 -1.6 36.8
Joe Coleman 1128.0 -2.0 -0.5 35.5
John Danks 1481.0 -2.0 1.0 35.4
Dave Hamilton 704.0 -2.0 -3.4 37.1
Tim Lollar 906.0 -2.0 -1.8 35.2
Jeff Nelson 784.2 -2.0 9.0 43.9
Clyde Wright 1728.2 -2.0 -0.2 35.5
Joe Boever 754.1 -2.1 0.2 38.8
Josh Fogg 1159.0 -2.1 -3.4 35.1
Ross Grimsley 2040.0 -2.1 -3.2 35.3
Bart Johnson 809.1 -2.1 -0.6 36.8
Bobby Jones 1518.2 -2.1 -0.8 34.9
Johnny Kucks 938.1 -2.1 -0.6 34.8
Eric Milton 1582.1 -2.1 -0.5 34.4
Carl Pavano 1788.2 -2.1 0.8 36.0
Kip Wells 1338.1 -2.1 -2.2 36.8
Jim Clancy 2517.1 -2.2 0.3 37.2
Tex Clevenger 694.2 -2.2 -1.6 35.4
Chuck Dobson 1258.1 -2.2 -2.4 36.4
Mark Gardner 1764.2 -2.2 -2.0 34.2
Chris Holt 736.2 -2.2 0.8 34.4
Kevin Ritz 753.1 -2.2 0.7 34.1
Jamey Wright 2036.2 -2.2 0.7 35.8
Jim Bibby 1722.2 -2.3 2.4 35.9
Hank Borowy 814.0 -2.3 -3.7 36.1
Bennie Daniels 997.0 -2.3 -1.9 36.7
Cliff Fannin 722.2 -2.3 -1.5 37.3
Alfredo Simon 716.1 -2.3 -0.6 35.7
Jorge Sosa 772.2 -2.3 -1.7 34.2
Jeff Weaver 1838.0 -2.3 -2.5 35.2
Joe Blanton 1643.1 -2.4 -0.2 33.7
Kevin Gregg 720.1 -2.4 1.3 46.1
Don Hood 848.1 -2.4 -2.1 29.3
Ken Kravec 858.2 -2.4 -3.1 34.6
Mike LaCoss 1739.2 -2.4 -4.6 37.8
Barry Latman 1219.0 -2.4 -0.8 33.7
Dennis Rasmussen 1460.2 -2.4 -1.1 34.6
Mark Redman 1238.2 -2.4 -2.6 34.8
Clayton Richard 815.2 -2.4 -3.3 34.1
Kyle Farnsworth 988.2 -2.5 1.5 41.4
Alan Foster 1025.1 -2.5 0.4 34.2
Al Nipper 797.2 -2.5 -3.0 34.7
Tim Redding 822.1 -2.5 -2.9 35.2
Dennys Reyes 726.2 -2.5 -1.2 32.8
Tracy Stallard 764.2 -2.5 -1.1 36.4
Joe Haynes 846.0 -2.6 -1.3 35.9
Rick Porcello 1245.1 -2.6 -1.6 35.1
Vern Ruhle 1411.1 -2.6 -0.6 35.4
Mike Smithson 1356.1 -2.6 -2.6 34.2
Chuck Stobbs 1920.1 -2.6 2.5 35.6
Bill Stoneman 1236.1 -2.6 -0.5 40.8
Zach Duke 1205.1 -2.7 -0.1 33.6
Justin Masterson 1201.0 -2.7 -3.1 37.3
Ricky Nolasco 1509.0 -2.7 -3.4 34.1
Claude Raymond 721.0 -2.7 -0.8 43.6
Bob Walk 1666.0 -2.7 0.5 36.1
Miguel Batista 1956.1 -2.8 -0.6 35.8
Ray Burris 2188.2 -2.8 -0.7 35.8
Jason Marquis 1968.1 -2.8 -3.0 34.8
Gene Nelson 1080.0 -2.8 -0.4 35.4
Melido Perez 1354.2 -2.8 -1.5 35.9
Duane Pillette 904.0 -2.8 -1.6 36.6
Todd Ritchie 835.2 -2.8 -1.3 31.3
Roger Erickson 799.1 -2.9 -1.8 33.9
Jim Hannan 822.0 -2.9 -1.8 35.0
Mike Pelfrey 1237.1 -2.9 -2.2 37.2
Jay Tibbs 862.2 -2.9 -1.0 35.4
Brian Bohanon 1116.0 -3.0 -1.0 33.7
Carlos Silva 1241.2 -3.0 -2.7 33.4
Wayne Twitchell 1063.0 -3.0 -0.4 34.9
Rick Waits 1427.0 -3.0 -4.8 36.4
Bruce Chen 1532.0 -3.1 -4.7 31.8
Glen Hobbie 1263.0 -3.1 0.5 37.7
Al Jackson 1389.1 -3.1 -4.3 36.4
Bill Wegman 1482.2 -3.1 1.7 34.5
Neal Heaton 1507.0 -3.2 -1.6 35.2
Dick Littlefield 761.2 -3.2 -5.5 38.0
Max Surkont 1194.1 -3.2 -2.1 37.3
Jake Westbrook 1747.2 -3.2 -0.7 35.7
Bob Knepper 2708.0 -3.3 0.7 36.7
Mike Maddux 861.2 -3.3 3.5 32.5
Greg Cadaret 724.1 -3.4 0.0 34.8
Danny Jackson 2072.2 -3.4 0.5 37.7
Phil Ortega 951.2 -3.4 -5.0 34.0
Jeff Robinson 708.2 -3.4 -4.5 35.4
Lary Sorensen 1736.1 -3.4 -0.2 34.1
Ryan Vogelsong 1107.2 -3.4 -4.8 32.5
Jaret Wright 972.2 -3.4 -3.2 35.6
Tony Cloninger 1767.2 -3.5 -0.1 34.7
Mark Davis 1145.0 -3.5 -3.0 42.9
Jack Kramer 842.2 -3.5 -0.9 34.6
John O’Donoghue 751.0 -3.5 -4.3 35.6
Eric Rasmussen 1017.2 -3.5 -0.1 36.0
Pete Smith 1025.2 -3.5 -1.0 35.5
R.A. Dickey 1714.0 -3.6 2.8 33.9
Chris Haney 824.2 -3.6 -4.7 34.7
Matt Herges 691.0 -3.6 1.0 39.5
Dave Mlicki 1232.2 -3.6 -1.6 36.5
Joe Sparma 864.2 -3.7 -0.9 35.1
Dean Stone 686.0 -3.7 -6.1 32.9
Dave Bush 1144.1 -3.8 -1.7 32.6
Albie Lopez 841.1 -3.8 -3.4 35.4
Scott Schoeneweis 972.0 -3.8 -2.8 35.0
Walt Terrell 1986.2 -3.8 -2.8 36.5
Jason Grimsley 936.2 -3.9 -3.0 38.7
Brian Moehler 1567.1 -3.9 -1.9 34.1
Eduardo Rodriguez 734.0 -3.9 0.2 36.7
Jonathan Sanchez 786.1 -3.9 -2.1 36.4
Jack Armstrong 786.2 -4.0 -2.9 35.2
Francisco Barrios 718.0 -4.0 -1.6 36.8
Jack Lamabe 711.0 -4.0 -1.1 30.7
Colby Lewis 1098.2 -4.0 -3.8 32.9
Casey Cox 762.0 -4.2 -3.2 35.0
Joe Kennedy 908.2 -4.2 -2.9 36.8
Chuck McElroy 739.1 -4.2 0.6 35.4
Scott Olsen 723.0 -4.2 -3.9 35.2
Jim Owens 885.1 -4.2 -2.7 40.3
Rick White 858.2 -4.2 0.2 30.9
Joe Mays 997.0 -4.3 -2.8 33.4
Nate Robertson 1152.1 -4.3 -5.8 35.6
Ian Snell 803.2 -4.3 -2.7 35.1
James Baldwin 1322.2 -4.4 -5.5 33.9
Adam Eaton 1178.2 -4.4 -5.1 34.7
Shawn Estes 1678.1 -4.4 -1.3 35.9
Tommie Sisk 928.1 -4.4 -2.2 33.0
Chris Volstad 705.2 -4.4 -3.4 34.4
Pete Falcone 1435.1 -4.5 -1.0 36.7
John Halama 911.0 -4.5 -3.7 32.0
Joel Pineiro 1754.1 -4.5 -1.9 33.1
Jay Witasick 731.1 -4.5 -3.9 33.8
Dan Miceli 700.2 -4.6 -0.8 43.3
Bob Shirley 1432.0 -4.6 0.1 35.5
Tanyon Sturtze 797.0 -4.6 -4.7 32.9
Bill Travers 1120.2 -4.6 -2.9 35.6
Bob Bruce 1122.1 -4.7 -1.7 36.5
Dave Lemanczyk 913.0 -4.7 -6.4 32.5
Bob Owchinko 890.2 -4.7 -3.2 36.2
Jason Bere 1111.0 -4.8 -6.3 35.3
Scott Elarton 1065.1 -4.8 -2.5 34.1
Omar Olivares 1591.2 -4.8 -2.6 35.8
Allen Watson 892.0 -4.8 -5.1 33.5
Dickie Noles 860.1 -4.9 -3.8 35.1
Diego Segui 1807.2 -4.9 3.1 37.8
Josh Towers 731.1 -4.9 -4.0 32.8
Jim Abbott 1674.0 -5.0 -1.7 36.1
Dave Freisleben 865.1 -5.0 -5.9 39.8
Curt Young 1107.0 -5.0 -4.8 33.8
Lew Krausse 1283.2 -5.1 -4.7 35.9
Tim Leary 1491.1 -5.1 -2.8 35.9
Jose Lima 1567.2 -5.1 -7.0 33.9
Steve Trout 1501.1 -5.1 -0.5 36.7
Wayne Garland 1040.0 -5.2 -1.8 36.7
Pete Redfern 714.0 -5.2 -3.6 35.3
Jim Slaton 2683.2 -5.2 -5.8 36.9
Jerome Williams 1012.1 -5.2 -3.4 34.0
Kyle Kendrick 1281.0 -5.4 -2.1 33.8
Glendon Rusch 1477.1 -5.4 -5.5 34.1
Paul Wilson 941.2 -5.4 -5.8 36.3
Jerry Augustine 944.0 -5.5 -5.1 35.3
Jackie Brown 892.2 -5.5 -4.8 35.0
Luke Hochevar 892.0 -5.5 -6.8 32.9
Lou Kretlow 785.1 -5.5 -4.9 34.9
Steve McCatty 1188.1 -5.5 -4.2 35.5
Brett Tomko 1816.0 -5.5 -1.6 33.7
Mike Maroth 918.0 -5.6 -6.7 35.0
Scott Bailes 679.2 -5.7 -8.1 35.2
Russ Kemmerer 1066.2 -5.7 -2.4 33.1
Herm Wehmeier 1798.0 -5.7 -4.0 37.9
Ricky Bones 1278.1 -5.8 -1.7 32.3
Pat Mahomes 709.0 -5.8 -6.8 33.3
Randy Lerch 1099.1 -5.9 -6.7 36.2
Rodrigo Lopez 1350.2 -5.9 -5.2 34.2
Charlie Morton 875.2 -5.9 -6.7 36.3
Daniel Cabrera 892.1 -6.0 -5.0 37.9
Matt Keough 1190.0 -6.0 -5.4 36.8
Steve Sparks 1319.2 -6.0 -5.9 33.4
Sean Bergman 750.1 -6.1 -7.5 33.7
Jeremy Bonderman 1231.0 -6.1 -5.9 33.2
John D’Acquisto 779.2 -6.1 -5.7 35.8
Dale Murray 902.1 -6.1 -2.7 41.6
Dick Bosman 1591.0 -6.2 -2.3 34.4
Bill Champion 804.1 -6.3 -6.2 34.2
Nick Blackburn 818.2 -6.4 -7.0 35.4
Scott Erickson 2360.2 -6.4 -1.8 35.6
Bill Greif 715.2 -6.4 -7.6 40.1
Jimmy Haynes 1200.2 -6.4 -8.4 35.4
Sid Hudson 1440.0 -6.4 -2.8 40.8
Carl Scheib 1007.0 -6.4 -2.7 33.9
Rob Bell 686.0 -6.5 -7.7 32.9
Edwin Jackson 1640.1 -6.5 -4.3 34.8
Bud Norris 988.2 -6.5 -4.1 36.3
Jeff Ballard 773.1 -6.6 -7.6 33.7
John Wasdin 793.1 -6.7 -3.9 29.4
Steve Arlin 788.2 -6.8 -6.4 37.4
Kevin Jarvis 780.2 -6.8 -9.7 30.8
Shawn Boskie 870.1 -7.0 -6.0 34.7
Wade Blasingame 863.2 -7.1 -6.3 34.7
Sidney Ponson 1760.1 -7.2 -6.4 35.3
Dick Drott 687.2 -7.3 -6.7 32.4
Andy Hassler 1123.1 -7.3 -3.6 36.3
Russ Springer 856.1 -7.5 0.0 31.1
Jerry Johnson 770.2 -7.6 -5.7 41.9
Brian Meadows 960.2 -7.7 -6.1 33.4
Andy Hawkins 1558.1 -7.9 -6.0 37.4
Mike Moore 2831.2 -7.9 -5.6 36.3
Fred Talbot 853.2 -7.9 -3.7 33.3
Rich Gale 970.0 -8.0 -5.4 35.3
Gary Ross 713.2 -8.0 -5.1 33.2
Bill Krueger 1194.1 -8.2 -10.1 34.4
Balor Moore 718.1 -8.2 -4.9 32.7
Blue Moon Odom 1509.0 -8.3 -5.9 36.1
Ramon Ortiz 1448.1 -8.3 -7.0 32.0
Todd VanPoppel 907.0 -8.3 -9.5 31.9
Esteban Yan 695.1 -8.3 -4.6 40.9
Mike Kekich 860.2 -8.4 -11.3 33.1
Willie Blair 1274.0 -8.5 -6.3 31.6
Mark Hendrickson 1169.0 -8.7 -7.1 33.0
Kevin Correia 1428.2 -8.9 -7.4 34.1
Dan Spillner 1492.2 -8.9 -6.7 36.9
Jay Hook 752.2 -9.0 -7.5 33.3
Glenn Abbott 1286.0 -9.1 -7.2 35.1
Rick Langford 1491.0 -9.3 -5.1 35.5
Matt Young 1189.2 -9.3 -5.8 39.0
Kyle Davies 770.1 -9.6 -9.4 36.4
Tom Griffin 1494.2 -9.7 -5.6 36.1
Casey Fossum 786.0 -9.8 -9.2 33.0
Jesse Jefferson 1085.2 -10.0 -9.5 34.2
Jaime Navarro 2055.1 -10.1 -10.8 35.0
Roberto Hernandez 1349.1 -10.4 -7.7 35.8
Bobby Witt 2465.0 -11.1 -11.9 36.5
Jack Fisher 1975.2 -11.2 -6.8 36.4
Pete Broberg 963.0 -11.7 -10.5 34.8
Jason Johnson 1357.0 -11.7 -10.9 35.2
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1919 American League salaries https://sabr.org/journal/article/1919-american-league-salaries/ Fri, 28 Sep 2018 04:47:09 +0000

In Eight Men Out, author Eliot Asinof wrote about the 1919 Chicago White Sox: “Many players of less status got almost twice as much on other teams. … (Charles Comiskey’s) ballplayers were the best and were paid as poorly as the worst.” This passage sums up the entire foundation of Asinof’s thesis: Low salaries and poor treatment by management are now widely considered to be the driving forces behind the White Sox players’ decision to fix the 1919 World Series. But the actual salary numbers tell a very different story. The White Sox were not among the worst-paid teams in baseball; in fact, they were one of the highest paid.

The National Baseball Hall of Fame Library in Cooperstown, New York, holds a collection of thousands of organizational contract cards that were provided to the Hall by Major League Baseball in 2002. As researcher Bob Hoie notes, these cards, which go back to the 1912 season, “contain salary, bonus payments, and any modifications to the standard contract covering each season (of a player’s career).” Although many other numbers have been tossed around by historians in the past, we can now say with certainty how much the Black Sox players were paid – and how much their teammates and peers were paid, too. The comparison helps shed light on whether any of the Chicago players had a legitimate reason to grumble about their salaries, at least any more than other teams around the league.

Hoie, with the help of fellow researcher Mike Haupert, analyzed the contract cards for a landmark 2012 article in Base Ball: A Journal of the Early Game on major-league salaries in 1919. Hoie discovered that the 1919 White Sox had one of the highest team payrolls in the major leagues; at $88,461, it was more than $10,000 higher than that of the National League champion Reds’ $76,870, which would have ranked sixth in the American League.



As has been well documented, the White Sox team payroll was extremely top-heavy and the player with the biggest bankroll was future Hall of Fame second baseman Eddie Collins. Collins’s $15,000 salary placed him number 2 among American League players behind only Ty Cobb at $20,000. The college-educated Collins, nicknamed “Cocky” and for good reason, wasn’t well liked by some of his teammates. Perhaps this included a sense of jealousy at his high salary. Indeed, Collins’s salary was nearly double that of anyone else on the team. But that wasn’t unusual in 1919: In Detroit, Cobb was making three times as much as any other Tiger and Cleveland’s Tris Speaker ($13,125) was also making twice as much as the next-highest-paid Indian.

But even if Collins’s salary was out of line with those of the rest of the team, the other White Sox stars were paid comparatively well, according to the Hall of Fame contract cards. Four other Chicago players ranked among the top 20 highest-paid players in the American League, including World Series fixers Eddie Cicotte ($8,000, number 8 in the AL), Buck Weaver ($7,250, number 11), and Shoeless Joe Jackson ($6,000, number 15). Another future Hall of Famer, catcher Ray Schalk, was the 13th-highest-paid player in the league at $7,083.

Eddie Cicotte’s salary deserves a closer look. The White Sox ace earned $8,000 in 1919 – which included a $5,000 base salary and a $3,000 performance bonus that Hoie says was a carryover from his 1918 contract (but unrelated to the mythical bonus “promised” to Cicotte if he won 30 games; that story is discussed elsewhere in this book). That also doesn’t include an additional $2,000 signing bonus paid to Cicotte before the start of the 1918 season, for a total compensation of $15,000 in 1918 and ’19. When he signed his contract, Cicotte had only one truly outstanding season (1917) to his credit. But he was the second-highest-paid pitcher in baseball behind the Washington Senators’ Walter Johnson, who had a much stronger track record. To put this in comparison, Eliot Asinof reported in Eight Men Out that Cincinnati Reds pitcher Dutch Ruether was “getting almost double (Cicotte’s) figure.” Ruether, whose sterling 1.82 ERA in 1919 matched Cicotte’s regular-season figure, was actually making $2,340. Talk about underpaid! 

The rest of the players who would later be banned in the Black Sox Scandal had little reason to squawk about salaries, either, at least compared with other players at their positions and experience level — and especially coming off a 1918 season in which the White Sox finished in sixth place. For instance, Chick Gandil’s $3,500 salary was fifth-highest among AL first baseman, and the four players ahead of him were far superior in talent: George Sisler (Browns), Stuffy McInnis (Red Sox), Wally Pipp (Yankees), and Joe Judge (Senators). Happy Felsch, an emerging star center fielder, might have felt disgruntled that Cobb and Speaker were making so much more than his $3,750, but he had only four seasons under his belt entering 1919. The only other center fielders with higher salaries, Clyde Milan (Senators) and Amos Strunk (Red Sox), had been in the league since 1907 and ’08, respectively.

Now that we have accurate salary information for all players in 1919, it’s hard to make the case that the Chicago White Sox were underpaid. There were many reasons that the eight Black Sox might have agreed to fix the World Series, but it wasn’t because they were being paid so much less than other major leaguers of equal or lesser talent.

Eliot Asinof, along with many writers before and after him, long insisted that the White Sox had the best talent and the worst payroll. But that claim just doesn’t stand up to modern scrutiny. With few exceptions, owner Charles Comiskey — long portrayed as a greedy miser and a villain in the Black Sox story — paid salaries that were comparable, and in many cases even favorable, to the rest of the league. The numbers bear that out.

 

American League Opening Day team payrolls, 1919

  1. Boston Red Sox, $93,475
  2. New York Yankees, $91,330
  3. Chicago White Sox, $88,461
  4. Detroit Tigers, $81,433
  5. Cleveland Indians, $78,913
  6. St. Louis Browns, $63,000
  7. Washington Senators, $63,000
  8. Philadelphia A’s, $42,000

(Note: These figures are Opening Day payrolls and do not include any performance bonuses paid later in the season. According to Hoie, if you include total salary payouts plus earned bonuses at the end of the season, the White Sox ended up with the top payroll in the major leagues for 1919, $10,000 more than the Red Sox, who began dumping salaries as soon as it became apparent they weren’t going to repeat as AL champions.)

 

Top American League player salaries in 1919

  1. Ty Cobb, DET, $20,000
  2. Eddie Collins, CHW, $15,000
  3. Tris Speaker, CLE, $13,125
  4. Frank Baker*, NYY, $11,583
  5. Babe Ruth, BOS, $10,000
  6. Walter Johnson, WSH, $9,500
  7. Harry Hooper, BOS, $9,000
  8. Eddie Cicotte**, CHW, $8,000
  9. Carl Mays, BOS/NYY, $8,000
  10. Roger Peckinpaugh, NYY, $7,500
  11. Buck Weaver, CHW, $7,250
  12. George Sisler, SLB, $7,200
  13. Ray Schalk, CHW, $7,083
  14. Dutch Leonard, DET, $6,500
  15. Del Pratt, NYY, $6,185
  16. Joe Jackson***, CHW, $6,000
  17. Bob Shawkey, NYY, $6,000
  18. Ernie Shore, NYY, $6,000
  19. Ray Chapman, CLE, $6,000
  20. Donie Bush, DET, $5,500

 

American League player salaries in 1919, by position

First base

  1. George Sisler, SLB, $7,200
  2. Stuffy McInnis, BOS, $5,000
  3. Wally Pipp, NYY, $5,000
  4. Joe Judge, WSH, $3,675
  5. Chick Gandil, CHW, $3,500
  6. Harry Heilmann, DET, $3,500
  7. George Burns, PHA, $2,625
  8. Doc Johnston, CLE, $2,500

Second base

  1. Eddie Collins, CHW, $15,000
  2. Del Pratt, NYY, $6,185
  3. Jack Barry, BOS, $4,500
  4. Dave Shean, BOS, $4,000
  5. Joe Gedeon, SLB, $3,675
  6. Bill Wambsganss, CLE, $3,500
  7. Ralph Young, DET, $3,500
  8. Hal Janvrin, WSH, $2,625
  9. Whitey Witt, PHA, $2,362

Shortstop

  1. Roger Peckinpaugh, NYY, $7,500
  2. Ray Chapman, CLE, $6,000
  3. Donie Bush, DET, $5,500
  4. Everett Scott, BOS, $5,000
  5. Howie Shanks, WSH, $3,400
  6. Swede Risberg, CHW, $3,250
  7. Wally Gerber, SLB, $2,365
  8. Joe Dugan, PHA, $2,100

Third base

  1. Frank Baker, NYY, $11,583
  2. Buck Weaver, CHW, $7,250
  3. Larry Gardner, CLE, $5,000
  4. Ossie Vitt, BOS, $4,500
  5. Jimmy Austin, SLB, $3,675
  6. Eddie Foster, WSH, $3,675
  7. Fred McMullin, CHW, $2,750
  8. Bob Jones, DET, $2,500
  9. Fred Thomas, PHA, $2,100

Left field

  1. Babe Ruth, BOS, $10,000
  2. Joe Jackson, CHW, $6,000
  3. Duffy Lewis, NYY, $5,500
  4. Bobby Veach, DET, $5,000
  5. Jack Graney, CLE, $4,000
  6. Mike Menosky, WSH, $2,650
  7. Jack Tobin, SLB, $2,500
  8. Merlin Kopp, PHA, $2,400

Center field

  1. Ty Cobb, DET, $20,000
  2. Tris Speaker, CLE, $13,125
  3. Clyde Milan, WSH, $5,000
  4. Amos Strunk, BOS $4,800
  5. Happy Felsch, CHW, $3,750
  6. Tillie Walker, PHA, $3,750
  7. Ping Bodie, NYY, $3,600
  8. Baby Doll Jacobson, SLB, $1,969

Right field

  1. Harry Hooper, BOS, $9,000
  2. Joe Wood, CLE, $4,400
  3. Braggo Roth, PHA/BOS, $4,200
  4. Chick Shorten, DET, $3,200
  5. Sam Rice, WSH, $3,150
  6. Nemo Leibold, CHW, $2,650
  7. Shano Collins, CHW, $2,625
  8. Elmer Smith, CLE, $2,625
  9. Ira Flagstead, DET, $2,500
  10. Sammy Vick, NYY, $2,000
  11. Earl Smith, SLB, $1,594

Catcher

  1. Ray Schalk, CHW, $7,083
  2. Steve O’Neill, CLE, $5,000
  3. Oscar Stanage, DET, $4,500
  4. Wally Schang, BOS, $4,500
  5. Hank Severeid, SLB, $3,750
  6. Sam Agnew, WSH, $3,675
  7. Eddie Ainsmith, DET, $3,500
  8. Truck Hannah, NYY, $3,000
  9. Val Picinich, WSH, $2,750
  10. Muddy Ruel, NYY, $2,700
  11. Patsy Gharrity, WSH, $2,100
  12. Cy Perkins, PHA, $1,890

Pitcher

  1. Walter Johnson, WSH, $9,500
  2. Eddie Cicotte, CHW, $8,000
  3. Carl Mays, BOS/NYY, $8,000
  4. Dutch Leonard, DET, $6,500
  5. Bob Shawkey, NYY, $6,000
  6. Ernie Shore, NYY, $6,000
  7. Bullet Joe Bush, BOS, $5,700
  8. Sam Jones, NYY, $5,000
  9. Jim Shaw, WSH, $5,000
  10. Jack Quinn, NYY, $4,850
  11. Red Faber, CHW, $4,000
  12. Stan Coveleski, CLE, $4,000
  13. Ray Caldwell, BOS/CLE, $4,000
  14. Pete Schneider, NYY, $4,000
  15. Guy Morton, CLE, $4,000
  16. George Mogridge, NYY, $3,800
  17. Allan Sothoron, SLB, $3,625
  18. Carl Weilman, SLB, $3,625
  19. Hooks Dauss, DET, $3,600
  20. Johnny Enzmann, CLE, $3,600
  21. Jim Bagby, CLE, $3,600
  22. Hooks Dauss, DET, $3,600
  23. Lefty Williams****, CHW, $3,500

 

Notes

* Frank Baker’s salary includes a $1,000 performance bonus paid to him after the season.

** Eddie Cicotte’s salary includes a $3,000 performance bonus paid to him after the season, a carryover agreement from his 1918 contract. According to Bob Hoie, “this was apparently a verbal agreement, but it shows up in the White Sox ledgers presented during the criminal trial in 1921.”

*** Joe Jackson’s salary includes a $750 bonus paid to him for being “a member in good standing” of the White Sox at the end of the season, undoubtedly due in part to his abrupt departure in 1918. His $1,000-per-month contract normally earned him $6,000, but because of the shortened season in 1919, he was only due to make $5,250 instead. Comiskey made it up to him with an extra $750 after the season.

**** Lefty Williams’s salary includes a $375 performance bonus for winning 15 games and an additional $500 bonus for winning 20 games, both of which he earned in 1919.

 

JACOB POMRENKE is SABR’s Director of Editorial Content, chair of the Black Sox Scandal Research Committee, and editor of “Scandal on the South Side: The 1919 Chicago White Sox” (2015).

 

Sources

Hoie, Bob, “1919 Baseball Salaries and the Mythically Underpaid Chicago White Sox,” Base Ball: A Journal of the Early Game, Volume 6, No. 1 (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Co., Spring 2012), 17-34.

Michael Haupert Player Salary Database

 


 

Addendum: 1920 salaries

Following the 1919 World Series, White Sox owner Charles Comiskey began investigating rumors into what would become known as the Black Sox Scandal. However, as the 1920 season approached, neither the team nor the American League took any action against the players involved. When it came time to offer his players new contracts for the upcoming year, the White Sox owner was “exceedingly generous,” in the words of historian Gene Carney.

Here are the Black Sox salaries for the 1920 season:

Eddie Cicotte: $10,000, a raise of $5,000 from his 1919 base salary, which also included a $3,000 performance bonus. See above for details. Click here to view a copy of Cicotte’s signed 1920 contract, which is available at the Chicago History Museum.

Happy Felsch: $7,000, a raise of $3,250 from his 1919 salary. He had signed a three-year deal for $3,750 per year in 1917. The expiration of that contract and Felsch’s burgeoning stardom on the field meant he was overdue for a raise.

Chick Gandil: He was offered a contract by the White Sox, but did not report to the team in 1920. He was suspended indefinitely by Comiskey in mid-April for failing to sign a contract.

Joe Jackson: $8,000, a raise of $2,000 from his 1919 salary. After originally demanding $10,000 per season, Jackson signed a new three-year deal in the offseason. The details on when and how Jackson signed the contract were later disputed in the player’s civil lawsuit against the White Sox for back pay. The illiterate Jackson claimed he was pressured into signing the deal by GM Harry Grabiner without his wife Katie looking at the contract first.

Fred McMullin: $3,600, a raise of $975 from his 1919 salary. McMullin had signed for $500 a month (equivalent to $3,000 a year) as a rookie in 1916 and continued making that salary through 1919. The shortened 140-game season meant he only earned $2,625 in 1919.

Swede Risberg: $3,250, the same as his 1919 salary. Risberg had signed a two-year deal before the 1919 season.

Buck Weaver: $7,250, the same as his 1919 salary. Weaver had signed a three-year deal before the 1919 season.

Lefty Williams: $6,000, a raise of $3,375 from his 1919 base salary. According to salary records analyzed by historian Bob Hoie, there was also an off-contract agreement that Williams would receive a $500 bonus if he won 15 games in 1920 and an additional $1,000 if he won 20 games. But he was suspended in September 1920 before he could be paid the full $7,500. He did, however, receive a career-best $6,933.33.

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1992 Winter Meetings: The Circus Comes To Town https://sabr.org/journal/article/the-1992-winter-meetings-the-circus-comes-to-town/ Tue, 06 Sep 2016 19:35:57 +0000 Baseball's Business: The Winter Meetings: 1958-2016The baseball community met at the Galt House hotel in downtown Louisville, Kentucky, December 3-9, 1992. Reportedly, 1,800 to 1,900 people registered for the annual meeting, with vendors increasing the size of the meeting to about 2,500. By most accounts, the 1992 Winter Meeting was especially eventful, highlighted by a number of prominent free-agent signings involving past and future Cy Young and MVP Award winners, an ongoing racial controversy about the owner of the Cincinnati Reds, and the tragic sudden death of a team executive during a business meeting. Time magazine observed that the “break and circuses” meeting reflected the “greed, rancor, farce and tragedy” of real life.1

Business Issues

The Louisville meeting did not involve a great deal of new league business. The biggest business story leading up to and carrying over into the meeting — racist statements attributed to Cincinnati Reds owner Marge Schott — reminded many observers of baseball’s racially segregated past. In November, former Reds marketing director Charles Levy, in a deposition in support of fired controller Tom Sabo’s suit against the Reds, said Schott referred to former Reds players Eric Davis and Dave Parker as “million dollar niggers.”2

On November 14, Schott issued a statement declaring simply, “I am not a racist.” Less than a week later, on the 20th, she released another statement saying her use of the word “nigger” and ownership of a Nazi armband (she called it “memorabilia”) were not meant to offend.3 The story kept gaining traction as the Winter Meeting approached. On November 29, the New York Times quoted Schott as saying that “Hitler was good in the beginning, but he went too far.” She also claimed that her reference to “niggers” was a joke term, but denied applying it to Davis and Parker. Former Negro League player Hank Aaron, widely beloved as the game’s all-time home-run leader at the time, called for Schott to be suspended from baseball.4

Because of the Schott controversy, civil-rights leader and former Democratic presidential candidate Reverend Jesse Jackson visited Louisville during the meetings and challenged baseball to regain a leadership role in fair hiring practices and to end its “institutional racism.”5 Jackson met with the small ownership group investigating Schott, but the session ended inconclusively. If baseball did not get its “house in order,” Jackson warned, he would call for boycotts of the game and would mount a challenge against its antitrust exemption.6 While Jackson was calling for structural changes in baseball, he was surrounded at the podium by former players, including Parker and ex-Reds star Frank Robinson, a Baltimore Orioles executive. The following January, Jackson made good on his threat by calling for a boycott of games played by teams that did not have affirmative-action plans in place by Opening Day.7

Somewhat unexpectedly, but timed after Jackson’s visit, Schott on Wednesday, December 9, issued a tepid apology for her remarks. Reportedly she literally stumbled over the word “apologize”:

“I am not a racist or bigot. I have always believed in equal opportunity for everyone and that individuals should be judged by their merit, not by their skin color, religion or gender. … I acknowledge that in the past I have, on occasion, made insensitive remarks which I now realize hurt others. On those few occasions, it was my mouth but not my heart speaking. For any such remarks which were insensitive, I am profoundly sorry and I apologize to anyone I hurt. I can only say that I did not mean them. I love baseball, and if anything I have said caused embarrassment to the game, the Reds, the wonderful fans and city of Cincinnati, I am sorry.”8

Before ending her statement, like Jackson, Schott pushed some of the blame on baseball itself: “I wish to add that while I am not without blame in this matter, I am also not the cause of the problem. Minority issues have been present in baseball long before I came to the game. They must be resolved. … I pledge to you that I will work with others to accomplish meaningful reform.”9 Throughout the controversy, reporters noted that Schott frequently pointed out that she too was a minority in baseball, a woman in a man’s world. However, this fact did not stop baseball from punishing her. On February 3, 1993, Schott was fined $25,000 and banned from day-to-day operations of the Cincinnati Reds during the 1993 season.10

The meeting did include some other new business. Owners considered a few fairly small initiatives that served as omens for future changes in baseball. For example, owners reviewed data compiled by market researchers to consider league realignment (which would occur in 1994) and interleague play (which would begin in 1997). Perhaps most importantly for baseball in the 1990s, owners voted 15 to 13 to reopen the Collective Bargaining Agreement with the players union. While some feared this decision was a precursor to a 1993 spring-training lockout of the players, owners also voted to amend their bylaws to require a three-fourths majority vote to authorize such a lockout. Traditionally, owners have more leverage over players in the spring and any lockout would have been intended to force players to accept a salary cap. While owners did not repeat the lockout strategy they had used in 1973, 1976, and 1990, the lack of a settlement about the Basic Agreement did contribute to a midseason 1994 players strike. Players have far more leverage in the middle of the season since owners have every incentive to finish the season and collect revenues from attendance and media contracts. The strike led to the cancellation of the 1994 World Series.

The owners meeting was adjourned early and postponed because of the unexpected death of Carl Barger, the Florida Marlins president and chief operating officer. Barger, a former corporate lawyer, suffered from a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm on Wednesday during a joint ownership session in the ballroom of the Galt House East Hotel, and succumbed to the internal bleeding. The New York Times reported that he excused himself about 11 A.M. and collapsed just outside the meeting room: “Within seconds, Bobby Brown, the cardiologist who is president of the American League, was at his side administering cardiopulmonary resuscitation, and an ambulance arrived 10 minutes later to take him to the hospital.” His doctor at Humana Hospital, however, told the Times that Barger never regained consciousness and died before surgery could be performed.11 Barger had been associated with the Marlins since July 8, 1991, but his new team was yet to play its first game. The team had participated in the expansion draft a few weeks prior to the meeting in Louisville. Before joining the Florida expansion franchise, Barger was widely credited with saving the Pirates franchise in Pittsburgh. The owners adjourned their meeting after Barger’s collapse and rescheduled it for January.

Player Movement: Free-Agent Frenzy

Teams reportedly obligated $250 million in free-agent spending at the 1992 meetings. In one of the most prominent moves, the reigning National League Cy Young Award winner, right-hander Greg Maddux, departed the Chicago Cubs for the league champion Atlanta Braves for five years and $28 million.12 Contemporary news reports suggested that Maddux turned down a New York Yankees offer worth at least $6 million more. Braves general manager John Schuerholz later said that the Maddux signing “was the biggest acquisition I was ever involved with at the meetings.”13

While the Maddux transaction helped the Braves build a baseball dynasty, it was not the largest free-agent signing at the 1992 Winter Meetings.14 Peter Magowan’s new ownership group in San Francisco completed a nearly $44 million deal with former Pittsburgh Pirates outfielder and reigning National League MVP Barry Bonds, who had also won the award in 1990. Reportedly, the six-year deal for $43.75 million would be guaranteed even if the proposed sale of the Giants fell through, though departing owner Bob Lurie was quite worried about this aspect of the transaction. Indeed, a hotel-room news conference abruptly ended when a major-league baseball official reportedly whispered Lurie’s concerns into the ear of Dennis Gilbert, Bonds’ agent. As recounted by then-San Francisco Examiner beat reporter Larry Stone, “All of a sudden, the whole group got up and hastily left the ballroom through the kitchen door — Gilbert and his staff of snappily dressed associates; Willie Mays; Bobby Bonds; and a flustered looking Barry — all of whom were seated on the podium, waiting for the triumphant announcement.”15 The highly anticipated news conference occurred three days later.

The Chicago Cubs also said goodbye that winter to outfielder Andre Dawson, a 38-year-old former MVP (1987) with 399 career home runs. The 2010 Baseball Hall of Fame inductee signed with the Boston Red Sox for two years at $9.3 million.

Free-agent designated hitter and former infielder Paul Molitor left Milwaukee after 15 seasons and was an immediate success with his new team. After signing a $13 million, three-year contract with the Toronto Blue Jays, Molitor enjoyed two All-Star seasons with the team before slipping somewhat in the final year of his contract.

A number of teams re-signed their own free-agent stars to lucrative deals. For example, the Minnesota Twins re-signed 31-year-old free-agent center fielder Kirby Puckett to a five-year deal worth $30 million. Reportedly this cost the Twins $2.5 million more than a deal struck months before that was vetoed by Twins owner Carl Pohlad. At the time of the signing, Puckett was briefly the third highest paid player in baseball.

Similarly, 12-time All-Star shortstop Ozzie Smith, age 37, returned to his team, the St. Louis Cardinals for $3 million per year, renewable for each remaining year of his career so long as he remained healthy and achieved 400 plate appearances in the prior year. Smith also signed a six-year personal-services contract worth $1.2 million upon his retirement from baseball. The Detroit Tigers re-signed their five-time All-Star second baseman Lou Whitaker to a three-year contract worth $10 million. They also re-signed their free agent pitcher, righty Bill Gullickson, to a two-year contract for $4.6 million. And All-Star outfielder Joe Carter re-signed with the Toronto Blue Jays for three years and $19.5 million.

By comparison, numerous other signings at the 1992 Winter Meetings involved players who were never major stars of the game. Some impressive sums of cash nonetheless changed hands in these deals. For instance, left-handed pitcher Greg Swindell signed a four-year contract worth $17 million to play for the Houston Astros. On December 8, the Blue Jays signed former Oakland A’s right-handed pitcher Dave Stewart, a four-time 20-game winner, to a two-year contract worth $8.5 million. Former St. Louis Cardinals right-handed relief ace Todd Worrell signed with the Los Angeles Dodgers (three years, $9.5 million). In a similar transaction, 30-year-old left-handed reliever Randy Myers signed with the Chicago Cubs for three years and $11 million.

Somewhat less noteworthy, the expansion Florida Marlins signed their first free agents on December 8 — infielder Dave Magadan and 44-year-old knuckleball pitcher Charlie Hough. Magadan played only a few months as the Marlins primary third baseman before being traded in late June of 1993 to the Seattle Mariners for right-handed pitcher Jeff Darwin and outfielder Henry Cotto. The right-handed Hough served as the Opening Day starter for the new franchise in both 1993 and 1994, finishing a combined 14-25 in his final two years as a player. After failing to land Greg Maddux and other big-name free agents, the New York Yankees acquired shortstop Spike Owen for a three-year, $7 million contract.

Trades

The 1992 Winter Meetings did not feature a significant number of important trades, but teams were able to agree on a few deals. The first trade of the meetings featured Minnesota trading left-handed pitcher David West, who posted a 6.99 ERA in a limited role during the 1992 season, to the Philadelphia Phillies in exchange for right-handed pitcher Mike Hartley, who had pitched 53 games in relief during the season with an ERA of 3.44. While Hartley performed slightly worse in 1993, West played a significant role in the bullpen of the 1993 National League champion Phillies, finishing with a 2.92 ERA in just over 86 relief innings.

The California Angels traded starting pitcher Jim Abbott, who had finished third in the 1991 Cy Young Award race, to the New York Yankees for a package of players, including first baseman J.T. Snow. The left-handed Abbott’s ERA increased significantly in New York as he became a slightly below average starter, though he did pitch a no-hitter in September. Pitcher Charlie Leibrandt, a 15-game winner in each of the prior two seasons, was traded from Atlanta to Texas for his final big-league season. The southpaw finished with a 4.55 ERA in 150 innings and a 9-10 won-loss record.

At 1 A.M. after the busy Wednesday, San Diego Padres general manager Joe McIlvaine announced the final deal of the day, a trade sending right-handed pitcher Jose Melendez to Boston for promising young slugger Phil Plantier. Writer-analyst Bill James predicted that Plantier was the player most likely to slug more home runs in the decade of the 1990s than any other player.16

Conclusion

The 1992 meetings are mostly remembered for the large personalities who dominated the headlines — outspoken owner Marge Schott, Jesse Jackson, and Barry Bonds and his entourage. Columnist Hal Bodley later called the 1992 meetings a circus, though this was largely because of the great number of signings involving star players. Indeed, after the 1992 meetings, major-league owners voted 28 to 0 to forbid GMs from attending future Winter Meetings. Executive Council chair Bud Selig pushed for this largely because of frustration with the free-agent marketplace. Baseball management felt that agents and players were using the meetings to create bidding wars for players. Baseball would not reconvene in the same manner until it gathered in Nashville in December 1998.

While most publicity and news coverage about the Winter Meetings focuses on the activities and interactions of a relatively small group of major-league owners and general managers, it is important to keep in mind that the meetings are also a trade show and a job market.

Indeed, among those in attendance in 1992 was Dominic Latkovski, a graduate of local Bellarmine University, who had been working since 1990 as the Billy Bird mascot for the Triple-A Louisville Redbirds for a modest $35 per game. In hopes of emulating the famous (San Diego) Chicken and taking the act to audiences nationwide, Dominic and his brother Brennan created a video of their past performances, designed marketing materials, and manned a booth at the meetings hoping to at least break even on their investment by securing four $1,500 bookings for the 1993 season. The Latkovski brothers ended up performing 48 shows in their first year of independent operation and launched a successful business that as of 2017 continued to entertain thousands of people every summer at minor-league ballparks.17

 

Sources

In addition to the sources cited in the Notes, the author also consulted:

Associated Press. “Baseball Meetings Open Today; Clemens, Brown Are Top Names in Marketplace,” December 11, 1998. amarillo.com/stories/1998/12/11/spo_166-7052.shtml#.VqvUuvkrL2Q.

Chass, Murray. “Puckett Stays Put With Twins; Swindell Goes Home to Houston,” New York Times, December 5, 1992. nytimes.com/1992/12/05/sports/baseball-puckett-stays-put-with-twins-swindell-goes-home-to-houston.html.

Chass, Murray. “Jays Re-Sign Carter and Swipe Molitor,” New York Times, December 8, 1992. nytimes.com/1992/12/08/sports/baseball-jays-re-sign-carter-and-swipe-molitor.html.

Hill, Benjamin. “Latkovski’s passion fuels traveling act,” MLB.com, May 3, 2013. milb.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20130503&content_id=46451862&fext=.jsp&vkey=news_milb.

Newhan, Ross. “Baseball Winter Meetings: Marlins’ Boss Collapses, Dies,” Los Angeles Times, December 10, 1992. articles.latimes.com/1992-12-10/sports/sp-2461_1_baseball-winter-meetings.

Schmuck, Peter. “Free-Agent Thaw Floods Baseball Winter Meetings,” Baltimore Sun, December 11, 1992. articles.baltimoresun.com/1992-12-11/sports/1992346114_1_schott-reopen-executive-council.

Walker, Ben (Associated Press). “Tragedy Marks End of Winter Meetings,” Deseret News (Salt Lake City), December 10, 1992. deseretnews.com/article/263618/TRAGEDY-MARKS-END-OF-WINTER-MEETINGS.html.

 

Notes

1 “The Baseball Barons’ Bread and Circuses” Time, December 21, 1992. content.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,977306,00.html.

2 John Erardi, “‘Bookkeeper’ Started It All,” Cincinnati Enquirer, October 25, 1998. reds.enquirer.com/1998/10/102598sabo.html.

3 Schott’s Statement: ‘I Am Not a Racist,’” New York Times, December 10, 1992, nytimes.com/1992/12/10/sports/baseball-schott-s-statement-i-am-not-a-racist.html; Ira Berkow, “Marge Schott: Baseball’s Big Red Headache,” New York Times, November 29, 1992, nytimes.com/1992/11/29/sports/baseball-marge-schott-baseball-s-big-red-headache.html?pagewanted=all.

4 Berkow. The quotations attributed to Schott are also from this article.

5 Jerome Holtzman, “Jackson Makes Pitch for Minority Hiring,” Chicago Tribune, December 8, 1992. articles.chicagotribune.com/1992-12-08/sports/9204210874_1_minority-hiring-black-journalists-rev-jesse-jackson.

6 Maryann Hudson, “Jesse Jackson, Looking Beyond Schott, Reprimands Baseball,” Los Angeles Times, December 8, 1992. articles.latimes.com/1992-12-08/sports/sp-1797_1_jesse-jackson.

7 Danny Robbins, “Jesse Jackson Outlines Boycott: Schott Case Provides Him a Platform to Call for Improvement in Minority Hiring,” Los Angeles Times, January 13, 1993. articles.latimes.com/1993-01-13/sports/sp-1250_1_jesse-jackson.

8 “Schott’s Statement.”

9 Ibid.

10 Glen Macnow, “Reds Owner Is Suspended 1 Year, Fined/The Penalty: $25,000. Marge Schott Will Still Pay the Bills. But She Won’t Be Able to Run the Team,” Philadelphia Inquirer, February 4, 1993. articles.philly.com/1993-02-04/sports/25955938_1_cincinnati-reds-owner-marge-schott-inappropriate-language.

11 Robert McG. Thomas, “Carl Barger, 62, Team President With Pirates and Florida Marlins,” New York Times, December 10, 1992. nytimes.com/1992/12/10/us/carl-barger-62-team-president-with-pirates-and-florida-marlins.html.

12 All signings and trades referenced here are documented at “1993 Major League Baseball Transactions,” www.baseball-reference.com/leagues/MLB/1993-transactions.shtml. The player links reveal the terms of contracts.

13 Hal Bodley, “Winter Meetings are no honeymoon,” MLB News, December 5, 2008. mlb.mlb.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20081205&content_id=3703507&vkey=perspectives&fext=.jsp&c_id=mlb.

14 For a summary of how these free agents performed through their contracts see, Rodger A. Payne, “Evaluating Free Agent Signings at the 1992 Baseball Winter Meetings,” Rodger A. Payne’s Blog, May 16, 2016. rpayne.blogspot.com/2016/05/evaluating-free-agent-signings-at-1992.html.

15 Larry Stone, “Memories of Winter Meetings Past,” Seattle Times, December 7, 2009. seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/thehotstoneleague/2010445446_memories_of_winter_meetings_pa.html?syndication=rss.

16 Chad Finn, “Top 50 Red Sox Prospects of Past 50 Years: 30-21,” Boston.com, April 2014. archive.boston.com/sports/touching_all_the_bases/2014/04/30-21.html. While Plantier hit 34 home runs for the 1993 Padres, he managed only 53 more over the remainder of his career, including 18 for the 1994 Padres. He never again achieved even 400 plate appearances and was out of major-league baseball by age 29.

17 Press Release, “The ZOOperstars to Perform at Bandits Game Friday,” Quad-Cities Online, July 21, 2009. qconline.com/archives/qco/print_display.php?id=449772.

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An examination of Black Sox salary histories https://sabr.org/journal/article/an-examination-of-black-sox-salary-histories/ Fri, 01 Feb 2013 17:21:44 +0000 Editor’s note: In the Spring 2012 issue of “Base Ball: A Journal of the Early Game,” noted Black Sox expert Bob Hoie used player salary data to put to rout the long-held notion that the 1919 Chicago White Sox were underpaid. As it turns out, the Sox had the second-highest player payroll in the major leagues that season. Click here to download his article, “1919 Baseball Salaries and the Mythically Underpaid Chicago White Sox” (use password “McFarland” to open PDF). The February 2013 and May 2013 issues of the SABR Deadball Era Committee’s “The Inside Game” newsletter featured Hoie’s informative analysis and commentary upon the salary history of Shoeless Joe Jackson and the other seven Black Sox players. His analysis is presented below.  

SHOELESS JOE JACKSON

Joe Jackson started his major-league career inauspiciously, playing a mere five games for the Philadelphia Athletics in both the 1908 and 1909 season, batting a combined .150 (6-for-40.) In 1910, the A’s optioned him to New Orleans of the Class A Southern Association and then made Jackson pat of a late-July trade that sent him and Morrie Rath to Cleveland in exchange for Bris Lord. Jackson remained in New Orleans until the close of the SA season before making his Naps debut on September 16, 1910.

Jackson began his Cleveland tenure in sterling fashion. He batted .387 in 20 late-1910 season games and then joined American League batting leaders, hitting .408 in 1911 and .395 in 1912. On the morning of August 17, 1913, Jackson’s batting average for the season was .396, giving him a .400 average (rounded up from .3995006) for his first 430 games with Cleveland. No player – before or since – has ever gotten off to such a prolific start. From there, Joe tailed off slightly, batting .324 for the remainder of the season, which left him with a 1913 BA of .373. For the third straight year, Joe Jackson was named as an outfielder on the “All America” team selected by Baseball Magazine.

During Jackson’s first three seasons, it could be said that he was the equal of the best players in the game: Ty Cobb, Eddie Collins, Tris Speaker, Home Run Baker, et al. But he lagged behind them in the salary department. In 1913, Cobb’s salary was $12,000. Speaker made $7,500, Collins $6,000, and Baker $4,500. Jackson was low man at $4,000. In 1914, the others took advantage of the looming conflict with the upstart Federal League to boost their incomes. Cobb and Speaker signed two-year contracts for a handsome $15,000/season, while Collins and Baker inked three-year deals with Philadelphia that called for $8,333 and $6,667 per season, respectively. The illiterate Jackson did not fare as well. He “signed” a three-year pact with Cleveland that paid only $5,333/season. But in retrospect, the salary numbers are not that inequitable. For although he was only 26-years old, Joe Jackson’s best years were already behind him.



In 1911, the introduction of the cork-centered baseball had inflated American League batting averages. From 1910, AL scoring increased a run per game, from 3.64 to 4.60 in 1911, while the collective league batting average jumped from .243 to .275. By 1914, however, pitchers had adapted, and AL batting and scoring norms reverted to 1910 levels: 3.65 runs/.248 BA. During the 1914 season, Joe Jackson was sidelined for nearly a month by an ankle injury, but he still finished fourth in league batting standings with a .338 BA and was once again named to Baseball Magazine’s All America team. This put him in fairly exclusive company, as only Cobb, Collins, and Walter Johnson shared the distinction of being named to the team for each of the 1911-1912-1913-1914 seasons.

Despite the honor, the 1914 season signaled the arrival of a decline in Jackson’s performance. Offensive stats were down across the board in the American League for 1914, with batting averages dropping eight points and OPS down 19 points from the previous season. The drop-off in the Jackson numbers was more dramatic. His 1914 BA was 35 percentage points under his 1913 figure, while his OPS was down a whopping 149 points. By comparison, the decline of his peers was less eye-catching. Cobb dropped 22 (BA) and 23 (OPS), while Speaker was down 25 and 48, and Baker down 18 and 84.

But it was not just Jackson’s hitting that deteriorated. His fielding was also past its prime. After averaging 30 assists per year during the 1911-1912-1913 seasons, Jackson’s assist totals dropped into the mid-teens for the rest of his career. And while his throwing arm remained strong, it was increasingly described as erratic. The metrics which consider fielding reveal an even steeper decline. From 1913 to 1914 and adjusting for differences in the amount of games played, Pete Palmer’s BFW for Jackson drops 40 percent, Bill James’ Win Shares goes down 34 percent, and the Baseball-Reference version of WAR for Jackson declines 38 percent.

It appears plain, therefore, that Joe Jackson no longer belonged in the game’s highest echelon after the 1913 season. From 1914 through 1919, he essentially became another Bobby Veach. That is hardly an aspersion, as Veach was a fine player. But he was not a great one.

Jackson started the 1915 season about the same way he finished 1914. On July 7, he was injured when a wagon swiped his automobile. No bones were broken but Jackson suffered an elbow injury that kept him out of the lineup for three weeks. For reasons that are not clear, Joe signed a two-year contract extension covering the 1917-1918 seasons on August 7, 1915. The new deal provided for a $6,000/season salary for those two years.

Four days later, Cleveland dealt Jackson to the Chicago White Sox for $31,500 and three players. There, he joined Eddie Collins, an erstwhile A’s teammate who had followed a far more lucrative path to Chicago. In the midst of the 1914 season, the hardnosed, Ivy League-educated Collins had played the Federal League card, inducing Philadelphia to replace the three-year $8,333/season deal that he had signed before the season with a five-year pact calling for $11,500 per season. Importantly, the new Collins contract also contained a provision that specified that Collins “shall not be transferred to any other club without his consent.”

At the end of the 1914 season, AL President Ban Johnson brokered a deal that sent Collins to the White Sox in exchange for $50,000. The parties were then informed that the requisite Collins consent came with a price tag. For agreeing to the transfer, Collins was given a $10,000 bonus for signing yet another contract for his baseball services, his third of the year. This latest pact boosted the Collins salary to $15,000/season for the next five years.

In the meantime, Jackson hit only .271 in 45 games for the 1915 White Sox. His performance was such a disappointment that just prior to the American League winter meeting, rumors swirled that the Sox wanted to trade Jackson to the Yankees for Fritz Maisel. Nothing came of such talk, and it may have been no more than a ploy designed to get Joe’s attention. If so, it succeeded.

In 1916, Joe Jackson returned to earlier form, batting .341 and collecting 200 base-hits for the first time in four seasons. In recognition of his fine campaign, Jackson was again selected to the Baseball Magazine All America team — the fifth and final time that he would be accorded that honor. The 1917 season, however, was a struggle. Going into September, Jackson was batting just .276. A .444 surge the rest of the way elevated his final 1917 batting average to .301, the lowest of his career.

Joe again rebounded in the early 1918 season. He was batting .364 when he left the club on May 13 to work and play baseball for the Harlan and Hollingsworth Shipbuilding Company of Wilmington, Delaware. He was registered by the company as a “necessary employee,” the designation required to exempt him from the World War I draft. A month later, pitcher Lefty Williams and backup catcher Byrd Lynn, Jackson’s best friends on the White Sox, joined him at the Harlan shipyard.

After the November 1918 Armistice, Jackson returned to his home in Savannah. The contract extension that he had signed in August 1915 had finally expired and now, for the first time in 3 1/2 years, Jackson had to negotiate a new contract. He could not have picked a worse time. In 1918, the Chicago White Sox had pulled in only $128,396.74 in revenues, leaving a sizable $51,672.12 deficit for the year. Jackson’s last full season in 1917, moreover, had yielded the poorest stats of his career. Nor had Jackson’s abandonment of the club early in 1918 endeared him to club owner Comiskey, a vocal backer of the war effort who, like many others, deemed men who had avoided military service by taking a defense plant job to be “slackers.” Comiskey also held Jackson responsible for the defection of his pals Williams and Lynn.

Thus, the best wage that Jackson could get from the White Sox for the 140-game 1919 season was a $1,000/month stipend (or $5,250 for the likely 5 1/4-month long season). But a five-line contract addendum provided that if Jackson were a Chicago team member in good standing at the close of the season, he would receive an additional $750. Thus, the Jackson contract offered the prospect of a $6,000 salary for 1919.

While his 1919 salary ended up being the same as that his August 1915 contract extension had provided for the 1917 and 1918 seasons, Jackson would now be getting the highest pay rate of his career: $1,143 per month (given the shortened 1919 playing schedule). The Sox also apparently agreed to a longstanding Jackson contract sweetener. The club would foot the bill for wife Katie Jackson’s attendance at spring training and cover her travel expenses on those occasions when she joined Joe on the road during the regular season. All in all, given the circumstances and the uncertainties of the oncoming season, Jackson had not made that bad of a deal for himself.

In 1919, Joe Jackson hit .351, with 52 extra base hits and 96 RBIs for a pennant-winning White Sox club. In February 1920, he signed a new three-year contract that called for an annual $8,000 salary. In comparison, Bobby Veach had batted .355, with 65 extra base hits and 103 RBIs in 1919. Jackson (7) had hit more homers than Veach (3) that season, but Veach had led the entire AL in hits, and posted offensive numbers superior to those of Jackson in virtually every other category except OPS and slugging, where Jackson’s stats were slightly higher. For his reward, Veach received a $1,000 raise, boosting his 1920 salary to $6,000 (or $2,000/season under Jackson).

Over a broader period, the Jackson and Veach offensive numbers also appear comparable. During the 1914 to 1919 time span, for example, Veach had posted seven “black type” numbers in total, leading the American League in hits once, doubles twice, triples once, and RBIs three times. During the same period, Jackson had been a league leader only twice, in triples and total bases for 1916. For his entire career, Jackson posted black type numbers ten times: hits (1912, 1913), doubles (1913), triples (1912, 1916, 1920), OBP (1911), slugging (1913), OPS (1913), and total bases (1916).

In 1920, Jackson had a superb season, batting .382, with a league leading 20 doubles, while posting personal bests in home runs (12) and RBIs (121). But 1920 was the only occasion in which Jackson topped the century mark in runs batted in. Veach did it six times. On the other side of the action, the two men were not equals. By any objective measurement, Veach was a better defensive player than Joe Jackson.

Over time, perceptions often change. Nowadays, Bobby Veach is a mostly-forgotten figure from the Deadball era while Shoeless Joe Jackson has become immortal – the tragic central character of Black Sox melodrama. But analysis of their respective salaries and those of contemporaries like Ty Cobb and Eddie Collins is instructive. It is, of course, easy to say that Joe Jackson should have made more money during his major-league playing career. But the notion that he was cruelly underpaid cannot withstand scrutiny of historical evidence and circumstance.

BUCK WEAVER

Buck Weaver was the third baseman on all-time All Star teams selected by Billy Evans in 1930 and Ty Cobb in 1946. But Weaver only played 427 games at third and the metrics (BFW, Win Shares, WAR) rate him not much better than an average player, and a less-than-average defensive third baseman. The metrics place him well below such contemporaries as Larry Gardner, Heinie Zimmerman, and even the New York Yankees version of Home Run Baker. And Heinie Groh is light years ahead of Weaver. Buck was never named to Baseball Magazine’s transcendent “All America” team, as that honor was always bestowed on others during Weaver’s playing career: Groh four times, Zimmerman and Baker twice each, and Gardner once. Weaver did, however, make the magazine’s American League team in 1917 and 1919. Otherwise, Baseball Magazine selected Gardner (1912-1916-1920), Baker (1913-1914-1918), or Fritz Maisel (1915) as the American League’s premier third sacker.

During Weaver’s years as a third baseman, only Baker received a higher salary than Buck – and Baker should not count. Home Run Baker may have been the greatest salary negotiator of all time, an accomplishment achieved largely through the use of mirrors. After signing a three-year contract with the Philadelphia A’s for $6,667 per year in 1914, Baker held out the entire 1915 season, demanding more money. At the end of the season, the A’s sold Baker to the Yankees for a reported $25,000. The Yankees then gave Baker a new three-year contract that paid $9,167 per season.

In his final four seasons with Philadelphia, Baker had been a Deadball Era force, averaging over 100 runs scored, over 110 RBIs, and batting in the mid-.330s. But in his first three seasons as a Yankee, Bakers offensive numbers shrank dramatically. He averaged less than 60 runs scored, a little over 60 RBIs, and hit about .280. Still, the Yankees expressed their intention to re-sign him for the 1919 season.

Magnanimously, Baker responded: “My probable return is prompted by my deep desire of duty to the owners of the New York American League Club who have expended a great deal of money for my release from the Athletics, who have not yet received due return for the investment because of tough luck in the matter of injuries to myself and other players and the bad conditions surrounding baseball in the seasons of 1917 and 1918. The consideration of money has never entered into my calculations. I feel I owe the game of baseball a great deal, for it has done me a great deal of good physically, morally and financially. It is because of my sense of duty and devotion to the game that I felt it almost obligatory on my part to return.”

As the New York Yankees had lost $46,651 in 1918 alone, and $136,994 over the 1915-1918 seasons, one might have expected Baker to announce that he was going to play for New York pro bono. Instead, Baker allowed himself to accept a $1,000 signing bonus for inking a $2,000/month contract that worked out to $11,583 over a 140-game season. Notwithstanding being on the back side of his career, Home Run Baker had managed to become the fourth highest paid player in major leagues baseball, his salary trailing only that of Ty Cobb, Eddie Collins, and Tris Speaker.

While not in Baker’s peerless class as a salary negotiator, Buck Weaver had done well for himself. He had been drafted by the White Sox from York of the Class B Tri-State League after the 1910 season, and optioned to San Francisco of the Pacific Coast League for 1911. Recalled by the Sox for the 1912 season, Weaver signed a contract for $1,800. He hit only .224, but played brilliantly at shortstop, earning a raise to $2,400. In 1913, Buck raised his batting average to .272 and continued to excel defensively.

In 1914, Weaver signed for $4,000 but his BA dropped to .246 and his defense began to decline. The following year, he signed a three-year deal at the same $4,000 per season and improved his average to .268. His defensive play, however, remained average, at best. In 1916, the Sox moved Weaver to third base and began searching for a new shortstop (first candidate Zeb Terry did not pan out). While Weaver’s BA fell to .227, the metrics suggest that he was better than average defensively during his first year as a third baseman. In 1918, Buck signed for $6,000 and hit .300, a deceptive figure as he drew few walks and had no power, generating an OPS of just .675.

In 1919, he signed a three-year contract that paid $7,250 per season. In the first year of that pact, Buck batted .296 and his power picked up. His defense, while brilliant in the eyes of many contemporary observers, was no better than average based on the numbers. In 1920, Weaver tried to renegotiate his contract, but when that failed, he went on to post career-best numbers in runs scored (102), BA (.331), slugging (.420), and OPS (.785) in his final major league season.

EDDIE CICOTTE

Eddie CicotteEddie Cicotte was an anomaly. Has any other pitcher had a win sequence of 15-28-12-29 or ERA progressions of 2.04-3.02-1.75, followed by 1.53-2.77-1.82-3.26? On July 12, 1912, Cicotte came to White Sox on waivers after he had started the season 1-3, with a 5.67 ERA, for the Boston Red Sox. In his fifth full season in the majors, Cicotte had signed a $3,600 contract that year and had been a reliable middle of the rotation starter for the Red Sox.

Once he started pitching for Chicago, Cicotte continued his losing ways, dropping his first four decisions as his combined record fell to 1-7. From there, Eddie turned it around, going 9-3 for the rest of the season to finish 10-10. For 1913, he signed another $3,600 contract and had his best season to date, going 18-11, with a 1.58 ERA. The following season, Cicotte signed for $4,250. (This amount may actually be $4,750. There is a discrepancy on the Cicotte transaction card, and given his record and the salary inflation provided by the arrival of the Federal League, I suspect that he signed for the higher figure.) After going 11-14 in 1914, Eddie signed a three-year deal that paid $5,000 per season.

In 1915, Cicotte posted a 13-12 record. He was clearly outperformed by fellow Sox hurlers Jim Scott (24-11), Red Faber (24-12), and Joe Benz (15-11). Like Cicotte, Scott was at the start of a three-year contract, but one that paid only $4,000 per season, the salary level at which he would remain for the rest of his White Sox (and major league) career. Benz had signed a three-year contract that paid $6,500 annually, while Faber had signed a one-year $6,000 pact for the 1916 season. This made Cicotte the third highest-paid pitcher on the 1916 Sox staff (with Scott fourth) regardless of win/loss record. But Cicotte earned his keep that season, going 15-7, with a sparkling 1.78 ERA, and pitching better than Benz or Faber. Faber dropped back to $4,000 in 1917 and then enlisted in the Navy. Cicotte, meanwhile, had a breakout season as a 33-year old in 1917. He went an unexpectedly great 28-12, with a 1.53 ERA, leading the AL in both wins and earned run average.

For 1918, Cicotte’s base salary remained at $5,000, but he also received a $2,000 signing bonus (which the Cicotte transaction card inaccurately labels an advance). In addition, Cicotte and the Sox had an off-contract performance-based bonus agreement. The amount of the potential bonus is not disclosed on the transaction card, but is a moot point. Cicotte did not have to worry about collecting any bonus checks as he went 12-19 and lead the AL in losses.

In 1919, Eddie’s base salary continued at $5,000. He went a superb 29-7, for which he belatedly received a $3,000 bonus (which I believe was a carryover from his 1918 off-contract agreement). He then signed for $10,000 in 1920 and posted a 21-10 mark.

In sum, the 1918-1919 Cicotte contracts and bonus payments gave him a two-year income of $15,000. The only major-league pitcher to make more money during this period was Walter Johnson at $19,000. (Grover Alexander spent most of 1918 in the US Army). Including 1920, Cicotte salaries and bonuses aggregated to $25,000, again second only to Johnson’s $31,000.

HAPPY FELSCH

Happy Felsch was acquired by the White Sox in early August 1914. His 1915 contract called for a $2,100 salary but Felsch was something of a disappointment, playing regularly in center field but batting only .248. In 1916, he got a raise to $2,700 and had a very good season, batting .307 (ninth in the AL), with seven home runs (tied for third). This performance earned Happy a three-year $3,700 per season contract with the Sox. He repaid the club with a great season, hitting .308 (fifth in the league), with 102 RBIs (tied for second) and six homers (tied for fourth). In addition, he was brilliant in the outfield. As a result, Felsch joined Ty Cobb and Tris Speaker as an outfielder on the Baseball Magazine “All America” team.

The 1918 season was a disaster for Happy Felsch. On May 9, his BA stood at .262 after 15 games, with only three extra-base hits and five RBIs. He then left the club to visit a brother who had been seriously injured in an Army training exercise in Texas. Felsch returned to the Sox ten days later and promptly went on a batting tear, hitting .348 over his next 15 games and raising his season BA to .311. Then, the bottom began to fall out. In his final ten June games, Felsch managed only four singles in 38 at-bats, with one RBI, shrinking his BA to .252. After picking up his pay check on July 1, 1918, he left the club for his home in Milwaukee, taking a job with a local gas company and playing ball for the Milwaukee Koscioskos of the Lake Shore League. Playing Sundays and holidays, Happy hit .488 in 11 games.

Felsch never publicly explained why he left the Sox, but a December 31, 1918 column by Sam P. Hall, sports editor for the Chicago Herald Examiner, intimated that Felsch had been miffed by club failure to pay him a promised $1,100 bonus in 1917. Hall also mentioned rumors that Felsch had been angry about having his pay docked for the time that he had spent visiting his brother. The following day, Sox owner Charles A. Comiskey informed a Milwaukee Journal reporter that Felsch had been paid by the Sox for the ten days that he had been away in May 1918.

As for the bonus claim, Comiskey stated that Felsch had been “promised an additional amount if he would refrain from drinking, and although he violated this agreement, and so admitted himself, nevertheless he received the additional amount.” Comiskey then added that when Felsch left the club on July 1, “the only reason, as he is supposed to have said, was due to some trouble he had with Eddie Collins. After he left, he [Felsch] conferred with a club official and gave no reason for leaving, but promised to return and gave his word to that effect, but his word did not hold.”

On January 23, 1919, Felsch declared that he would not attempt to break his three-year contract with the White Sox. Then, for some reason perhaps having to do with his jumping the club and being placed on the suspended list, Felsch signed a new a new one-year pact on January 29, for $714.50 per month. As aggregate payment under this pact totaled $3,751.12, Happy thereby got himself a $1.12 raise. For the season, Felsch hit just .275, suggesting, at first glance, that his career was in decline from 1917. His BA was 33 points lower than his 1917 mark, but in 17 fewer games, he had hit twice as many doubles, more triples and home runs, and his OPS was nine points higher. In late February 1920, Felsch signed a $7,000 contract for the upcoming season and enjoyed his most productive year. He posted career-highs in virtually every offensive category, including homers (14, fourth in the AL), RBIs (115, sixth), and batting average (.338, ninth) in his final major league season.

CHICK GANDIL

Chick Gandil broke into the majors with the White Sox in 1910, but hit only .193. Sent back to the minors, he hit over .300 in a little more than one season with Montreal of the International League before he was acquired by the Washington Senators on May 26, 1912. Gandil signed a $500 per month contract with the club and hit .305, with 81 RBIs in 117 games, exceptional for the Deadball Era. In 1913, he got a raise to $3,600 ($600 per month) and responded by batting .318. This earned Chick a three-year contract at $4,000 per season for 1914-1915-1916. In the first year of the pact, Gandil’s average dropped to .259. But he was back up to .291 the following year.

The Senators, however, wanted to make first base available for Joe Judge, who had hit .415 in 12 late-season games for the club. So in 1916, Gandil was sold to Cleveland for $7,500. Gandil batted .259 for the Indians and then, again supplanted by another prospect (Louie Guisto, a 22-year old first baseman acquired from Portland who proved a bust), sold to the White Sox for $3,500.

By then, Gandil’s three-year contract had expired. For the 1917 season, Gandil and Chicago agreed to a new $4,000 pact. Chick hit .273, but with only 16 extra-base hits in 149 games, soft numbers for a rugged 6-foot-1 1/2-inch first baseman who doubled as a boiler man in the off-season. Yet at a banquet held in Boston to honor the pennant-winning Sox, Buck Weaver cited Gandil and Eddie Cicotte as the reasons why the Sox had prevailed.

In 1918, Gandil signed another $4,000 contract (his fifth in a row at that figure) and hit . 271. Over the ensuing winter, there were rumors that Gandil wanted to remain on the West Coast and hopefully manage a PCL team. But that seems doubtful, as Chick quickly re-signed with the Sox at $666.67 per month which, given the reduced 140-game schedule set for the 1919 season, effectively dropped his stipend to $3,500, his lowest wage since 1912.

After the 1919 season, Gandil told a reporter that he wanted to play on the West Coast if he could get his release from Sox owner Comiskey. Gandil claimed that he had been a candidate to manage Seattle but felt that rumors of a World Series fix killed his chances. As he informed vacationing Chicago sportswriter Harry Niely in January 1921, Gandil had been sent a $4,000 contract for the 1920 season by Comiskey. Gandil demanded $6,000. Comiskey countered at $5,000. But Gandil held his ground. Thereafter, Sox club secretary Harry Grabiner wrote that contract negotiations were off.

On April 24, 1920, Comiskey sent Chick a letter notifying him that he had been placed on the club’s suspended list. As it turned out, Chick Gandil’s career in Organized Baseball was now over. Two months later in an interview with sportswriter Harry Grayson, Gandil said, “I have always been an underpaid ballplayer, never got the big money but always gave my all.” In 1919, the only first basemen in the American League making more money than Chick Gandil were George Sisler, Stuffy McInnis, and Wally Pipp, and it would be difficult, if not impossible, to make the case that Chick was their superior.

LEFTY WILLIAMS

Lefty Williams had pitched briefly for the Detroit Tigers in 1913-1914, going a combined 1-4 before being sent to the Pacific Coast League. In 1915, Williams went 33-12 with Salt Lake City, leading the league in wins and strikeouts. Acquired by the Chicago White Sox, Williams signed a $3,000 contract and then went 13-7. Given a raise to $3,300 for 1917, he posted a 17-8 mark for the pennant-winning Sox, but took a cut to $3,000 for the 1918 campaign. At first appearance, this appears to make no sense. But Williams’ 1917 log was misleading. His ERA was the worst on the staff, and when possible Chicago starters for the World Series were discussed, Lefty’s name was scarcely mentioned. His 30-15 combined record for his first two seasons was likewise deceptive. His cumulative ERA was 3.28, or about 30% above the Sox staff average, and he had been the beneficiary of exceptional run support – nearly a half-run more than the Sox hurlers as a whole had received. In 1918, Williams was 6-4 when he and backup catcher Byrd Lynn jumped the club, taking a job and playing for the Harlan & Hollingsworth, the Delaware shipyard that would become his off-season place of employment for the next two years.

While Comiskey had made noises about never letting a defense plant jumper play for his team, Williams made a threat of his own, informing Chicago manager Kid Gleason that he would not rejoin the Sox until the club paid him the $183.16 that Williams claimed to be owed for the first 11 days of June 1918. (Williams’ claim was later considered and rejected by the National Commission.)

Eventually, Lefty re-signed with the Sox for $500 per month on January 29, 1919. This was the same pay rate as 1918, but covered only a 140-game schedule, reducing Williams’ actual 1919 pay to $2,625. The pact, however, contained a $375 bonus clause that would raise Lefty’s total salary back to the $3,000 level if he won 15 games. The parties also entered an off-contract agreement whereby Lefty would receive an additional $500 bonus if he became a 20-game winner. Thus, Williams’ 23-11 mark yielded a career-high $3,500 in 1919. Williams had pitched well that season, with his 2.64 ERA being nearly a half-run under the staff norm, but his run support remained the highest on the club.

On March 1, 1920, the soon-to-be 27-year-old Williams signed for $6,000, with an off-contract agreement calling for a $500 bonus if he won 15 games and an additional $1,000 for winning 20. Lefty earned both, going 22-14. He was suspended by Comiskey in late September before he could collect the full $7,500, but the $6,933.33 that Williams was paid was near double his previous earnings best.

SWEDE RISBERG

Swede Risberg was only 22 years old when the White Sox acquired him from Vernon of the Pacific Coast League in 1917. But by that time, Risberg had already played five seasons in the minors. Swede immediately became the Sox starting shortstop, but hit only .203 and was benched for the 1917 World Series, with Buck Weaver assuming the position and Fred McMullin assigned to third. Risberg had a great arm but was considered a somewhat erratic fielder, and the metrics suggest that his defense was terrible in 1917. In 1918, he signed for $2,500, raised his batting average to .256, and improved his defense – although it was still below average.

In 1919, Swede signed a two-year contract for $3,250 per season. He again hit .256 but his great defense in the latter part of the season impressed Chicago sports reporters. (From a review of 1919 box scores, there was a 33-game stretch late in the season where Risberg’s range factor went up a play a game, and his errors dropped significantly. But the Risberg range factor during that time was not off the charts.)

Like Weaver, Risberg tried to hold out in the middle of a multi-year contract but he eventually reported to spring camp in 1920. For the regular season, Swede hit .266 and drove in 65 runs, which placed him third in RBIs on the Sox behind Joe Jackson and Happy Felsch, all while batting in the seventh spot for the entire season.

Longtime Yankees executive Ed Barrow selected personal all-time all star squads in 1929, 1939, and 1950. Barrow also selected an all-time best team. In 1939, Barrow selected the 1938 New York Yankees as his all-time best team. In 1929 and 1950, however, he opted for the 1919 Chicago White Sox. But here is the ultimate head scratcher, courtesy of an article entitled “Ed Barrow, Yankee President, Picks All Time Baseball Team.” In a February 19, 1939 interview with sportswriter Jimmy Powers of the Chicago Tribune-New York Daily News syndicate, Barrow declared that, “I hold no grudges. That’s why Risberg is my second choice at short [behind Honus Wagner], Black Sox scandal or not.”

FRED McMULLIN

Fred McMullin was purchased from Los Angeles of the PCL by the White Sox in 1916. He signed for $500 per month, or $3,000 per season — which was unusually high for a rookie. McMullin hit .256 as a utility man, a post that he would fill his entire Sox career, as he never played more than 70 games in a season. In 1917, he took a cut to $2,750 and hit .237. Fred signed for the same in 1918 and hit .277. In 1919, he agreed to $500/month, which was facially a raise but, with the scheduled reduced to 140 games, actually lower pay. He hit a career-high .294 and then signed for $3,600 in 1920, and proceeded to bat a career-low .197.

McMullin was a very capable defensive third baseman, and handled that position for the Sox throughout the 1917 World Series. Because there was little drop off when Fred McMullin was in the lineup, he was one of baseball’s higher paid utility men.

BOB HOIE, a retired urban planner for Los Angeles County, is a long-recognized expert on West Coast baseball and the Black Sox Scandal. He was the Bob Davids Award winner for meritorious service to SABR and the game in 1987.

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The Black Sox Scandal https://sabr.org/journal/article/the-black-sox-scandal/ Mon, 28 Sep 2015 22:55:14 +0000 This article was selected for inclusion in SABR 50 at 50: The Society for American Baseball Research’s Fifty Most Essential Contributions to the Game.


Over the decades, major-league baseball has produced a host of memorable teams, but only one infamous one — the 1919 Chicago White Sox. Almost a century after the fact, the exact details of the affair known in sports lore as the Black Sox Scandal remain murky and subject to debate. But one central and indisputable truth endures: Talented members of that White Sox club conspired with professional gamblers to rig the outcome of the 1919 World Series.

Another certainty attends the punishment imposed in the matter. The permanent banishment from the game of those players implicated in the conspiracy, while perhaps an excessive sanction in certain cases, achieved an overarching objective. Game-fixing virtually disappeared from the major-league landscape after that penalty was imposed on the Black Sox.

Something else is equally indisputable. The finality of the expulsion edict rendered by Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis has not quelled the controversy surrounding the corruption of the 1919 Series. Nor has public fascination abated. To the contrary, interest in the scandal has only grown over the years, in time even spawning a publishing subgenre known as Black Sox literature. No essay-length narrative can hope to capture the entirety of events explored in the present Black Sox canon, or to address all the beliefs of individual Black Sox aficionados. The following, therefore, is no more than one man’s rendition of the scandal.

*****

The plot to transform the 1919 World Series into a gambling insiders’ windfall did not occur in a vacuum. The long-standing, often toxic relationship between baseball and gambling dates from the sport’s infancy, with game-fixing having been exposed as early as 1865. Postseason championship play was not immune to such corruption. The first modern World Series of 1903 was jeopardized by gambler attempts to bribe Boston Americans catcher Lou Criger into throwing games. Never-substantiated rumors about the integrity of play dogged a number of ensuing fall classics.

The architects of the Black Sox Scandal have never been conclusively identified. Many subscribe to the notion that the plot was originally concocted by White Sox first baseman Chick Gandil and Boston bookmaker Joseph “Sport” Sullivan. Surviving grand-jury testimony portrays Gandil and White Sox pitching staff ace Eddie Cicotte as the primary instigators of the fix. In any event, the fix plot soon embraced many other actors, both in uniform and out. Indeed, dissection of the scandal has long been complicated by its scope, for there was not a lone plot to rig the Series, but actually two or more, each with its own peculiar cast of characters.

Since it was first deployed as a trial stratagem by Black Sox defense lawyers in June 1921, motivation for the Series fix has been ascribed to the miserliness of Chicago club owner Charles A. Comiskey. The assertion is specious. Comiskey paid his charges the going rate and then some. In fact, salary data recently made available establish that the 1919 Chicago White Sox had the second highest player payroll in the major leagues, with stalwarts like second baseman Eddie Collins, catcher Ray Schalk, third baseman Buck Weaver, and pitcher Cicotte being at or near the top of the pay scale for their positions.

But the White Sox clubhouse was an unhealthy place, with the team long riven by faction. One clique was headed by team captain Eddie Collins, Ivy League-educated and self-assured to the point of arrogance. Aligned with Cocky Collins were Schalk, spitballer Red Faber, and outfielders Shano Collins and Nemo Leibold. The other, a more hardscrabble group united in envy, if not outright hatred, of the socially superior Collins, was headed by tough guy Gandil and the more amiable Cicotte. Also in their corner were Weaver, shortstop/fix enforcer Swede Risberg, outfielder Happy Felsch, and utilityman Fred McMullin.

According to the grand-jury testimony of Eddie Cicotte, his faction first began to discuss the feasibility of throwing the upcoming World Series during a train trip late in the regular season. Even before the White Sox clinched the 1919 pennant, Cicotte started to feel out Bill Burns, a former American League pitcher turned gambler, about financing a Series fix. Again according to Cicotte, the Sox were envious of the $10,000 payoffs rumored to have been paid certain members of the Chicago Cubs for dumping the 1918 Series against the Boston Red Sox. The lure of a similar score was enhanced by the low prospect of discovery or punishment.

Although they surfaced periodically, reports of player malfeasance were not taken seriously, routinely dismissed by the game’s establishment and denigrated in the sporting press. And the imposition of sanctions arising from gambling-related activity seemed to have been all but abandoned. Even charges of player corruption lodged by as revered a figure as Christy Mathewson and corroborated by affidavit were deemed insufficient grounds for disciplinary action, as attested by the National League’s recent exoneration of long-suspected game-fixer Hal Chase. By the fall of 1919, therefore, the fix of the World Series could reasonably be viewed from a player standpoint as a low risk/high reward proposition.

In mid-September the Gandil-Cicotte crew committed to the Series fix during a meeting at the Ansonia Hotel in New York. Likelihood of the scheme’s success was bolstered by the recruitment of the White Sox’ No. 2 starter, Lefty Williams, and the club’s batting star, outfielder Joe Jackson. In follow-up conversation with Burns, the parties agreed that the World Series would be lost to the National League champion Cincinnati Reds in exchange for a $100,000 payoff.

Financing a payoff of that magnitude was beyond Burns’s means, and efforts to secure backing from gambling elements in Philadelphia came up empty. Thereafter, Burns and sidekick Billy Maharg approached a potential fix underwriter of vast resource, New York City underworld financier Arnold Rothstein, known as the “Big Bankroll.” In all probability, word of the Series plot had reached Rothstein well before Burns and Maharg made their play. According to all concerned (Burns, Maharg, and Rothstein), Rothstein flatly turned down the proposal that he finance the Series fix. And from there, the plot to corrupt the 1919 World Series thickened.

The prospect of fix financing was revived by Hal Chase who, by means unknown, had also gotten wind of the scheme. Chase put Burns in touch with one of sportdom’s shadiest characters, former world featherweight boxing champ Abe Attell. A part-time Rothstein bodyguard and a full-time hustler, the Little Champ was constantly on the lookout for a score. Accompanied by an associate named “Bennett” (later identified as Des Moines gambler David Zelcer), Attell met with Burns and informed him that Rothstein had reconsidered the fix proposition and was now willing to finance it. The credulous Burns thereupon hastened to Cincinnati to rendezvous with the players on the eve of Game One.

In the meantime, the campaign to fix the Series had opened a second front. Shortly before the White Sox were scheduled to leave for Cincinnati, Gandil, Cicotte, Weaver, and other fix enlistees met privately at the Warner Hotel in Chicago. A mistrustful Cicotte demanded that his $10,000 fix share be paid in full before the team departed for Cincinnati. He then left the gathering to socialize elsewhere. The others remained to hear two men identified as “Sullivan” and “Brown” from New York. A confused Lefty Williams later testified that he was unsure if these men were the gamblers financing the fix or their representatives.

The first Warner Hotel fixer has always been identified as Gandil’s Boston pal, Sport Sullivan, but the true identity of “Brown” would remain a mystery to fix investigators. Decades later, first Rothstein biographer Leo Katcher and thereafter Abe Attell asserted that “Brown” was actually Nat Evans, a capable Rothstein subordinate and Rothstein’s junior partner in several gambling casino ventures. Whoever “Brown” was, $10,000 in cash had been placed under the bed pillow in Cicotte’s hotel room before the evening was over. The Series fix was now on, in earnest.

The Warner Hotel conclave was unknown to Burns, then trying to finalize his own fix arrangement with the players. He, Attell, and Bennett/Zelcer met with all the corrupted players, save Joe Jackson, at the Sinton Hotel in Cincinnati sometime prior to the Series opener. After considerable wrangling, it was agreed that the players would be paid off in $20,000 installments following each White Sox loss in the best-five-of-nine Series.

Later that evening, Burns encountered an old acquaintance, Chicago sportswriter Hugh Fullerton. Like most experts, Fullerton had confidently predicted a White Sox triumph. But something in the tone of Burns’s assurance that the Reds were a “sure thing” unsettled Fullerton. Burns made it sound as though the Series had already been decided. Almost simultaneously, betting odds on the Series shifted dramatically, with a last-minute surge of money transforming the once-underdog Reds into a slight Series favorite. To Fullerton and other baseball insiders, something ominous seemed to be afoot.

*****

To those unaware of these developments, the Game One matchup typified the inequity between the two sides. On the mound for the White Sox was 29-game-winner Eddie Cicotte, a veteran member of Chicago’s 1917 World Series champions and one of the game’s finest pitchers. Starting for Cincinnati was left-hander Dutch Ruether, who, prior to his 1919 season’s 19-win breakout, had won exactly three major-league games.

Aside from control master Cicotte plunking Reds leadoff batter Morrie Rath with his second pitch, the match proceeded unremarkably in the early going. Then Cicotte suddenly fell apart in the fourth. By the time stunned Chicago manager Kid Gleason had taken him out, the White Sox were behind 6-1. The final score was a lopsided Cincinnati 9, Chicago 1. Following their delivery of the promised loss, the players were stiffed, fix paymaster Attell reneging on the $20,000 payment due.

The White Sox fulfilled their side of the fix agreement in Game Two, in which Lefty Williams’s sudden bout of wildness in the fourth inning spelled the difference in a 4-2 Cincinnati victory. With the corrupted players now owed $40,000, Burns was hard-pressed to get even a fraction of that from Attell. Accusations of a double-cross greeted Burns’s delivery of only $10,000 to the players after the Game Two defeat. Still, he and Maharg accepted Gandil’s assurance that the Sox would lose Game Three. The two fix middlemen were then wiped out, losing their entire wagering stake when the White Sox posted a 3-0 victory behind the pitching of Dickey Kerr.

Whether the Series fix continued after Game Two is a matter of dispute. Joe Jackson would later inform the press that the Black Sox had tried to throw Game Three, only to be thwarted by Kerr’s superb pitching performance. Those maintaining that the White Sox were now playing to win often cite the decisive two-RBI single of erstwhile fix ringleader Chick Gandil.

With the Series now standing two games to one in Cincinnati’s favor, Cicotte retook the mound for Game Four, the most controversial of the Series. Locked in a pitching duel with Reds fireballer Jimmy Ring, Cicotte exhibited the pitching artistry that had been expected from him at the outset. His fielding, however, was another matter, with the game turning on two egregious defensive misplays by Cicotte in the Cincinnati fifth. Those miscues provided the margin in a 2-0 Cincinnati victory.

Cicotte later maintained that he had tried his utmost to win Game Four, but whether true or not, Eddie had received little offensive help from his teammates. The White Sox, both Clean and Black variety, were mired in a horrendous batting slump that would see the American League’s most potent lineup go an astonishing 26 consecutive innings without scoring. Chicago bats were silent again in Game Five, managing but three hits in a 5-0 setback that pushed the Sox to the brink of Series elimination.

Meanwhile, uncertainty reigned in gambling quarters. After the unscripted White Sox victory in Game Three, Burns, reportedly acting at the behest of Abe Attell, approached Gandil about resuming the fix. Gandil spurned him. But whether that brought the curtain down on the debasement of the 1919 World Series is far from clear. The Burns/Attell/Zelcer combine was not the only gambler group that the White Sox had taken money from. Admissions later made by the corrupted players make it clear that far more than the $10,000 post-Game Two payoff was disbursed during the Series. But who made these payoffs; when/where/how they were made; how much fix money in total was paid out by gambler interests, and how much of that money Gandil kept for himself, remain matters of conjecture.

More well-settled is the fact that awareness of the corruption of the World Series was fairly widespread in professional gambling circles. After the post-Game Two player/gambler falling-out, a group of Midwestern gamblers convened in a Chicago hotel to discuss a fix revival. Spearheading this effort were St. Louis clothing manufacturer/gambler Carl Zork and an Omaha bookmaker improbably named Benjamin Franklin, both of whom were heavily invested in a Reds Series triumph. The action, if any, taken by these Midwesterners is another uncertain element in the fix saga.

Back on the diamond, the White Sox teetered on the brink of elimination, having won only one of the first five World Series games. Their outlook turned bleaker in Game Six when the Reds rushed to an early 4-0 lead behind Dutch Ruether. At that late moment, slumbering White Sox bats finally awoke. Capitalizing on timely base hits from the previously dormant middle of the batting order (Buck Weaver, Joe Jackson, and Happy Felsch), the White Sox rallied for a 5-4 triumph in 10 innings. The ensuing Game Seven was the type of affair that sporting pundits had anticipated at the Series outset: a comfortable 4-1 Chicago victory behind masterly pitching by Eddie Cicotte and RBI-base hits by Jackson and Felsch.

Now only one win away from evening up the Series, the hopes of the White Sox faithful were pinned on regular-season stalwart Lefty Williams. Williams had pitched decently in his two previous Series outings, only to see his starts come undone by a lone big inning in each game. In Game Eight, disaster struck early. Lefty did not make it out of the first inning, leaving the White Sox an insurmountable 4-0 deficit. The Reds continued to pour it on against second-line Chicago relievers. Only a forlorn White Sox rally late in the contest made the final score somewhat respectable: Cincinnati 10, Chicago 5.

*****

The next morning, the sporting world’s approbation of the Reds’ World Series triumph was widespread, tempered only by a discordant note sounded by Hugh Fullerton. In a widely circulated column, Fullerton questioned the integrity of the White Sox’ Series performance. He also made the startling assertion that at least seven White Sox players would not be wearing a Chicago uniform the next season. More explicit but little-noticed charges of player corruption quickly followed in Collyer’s Eye, a horse-racing trade paper.

Although a few other intrepid baseball writers would later voice their own reservations about the Series bona fides, Fullerton’s commentary was not well-received by most in the profession. A number of fellow sportswriters characterized the Fullerton assertions as no more than the sour grapes of an “expert” embarrassed by the misfire of his World Series prediction. In a prominent New York Times article, special World Series correspondent Christy Mathewson also dismissed the Fullerton suspicions, informing readers that a fix of the Series was virtually impossible.

For its part, Organized Baseball mostly ignored Fullerton’s charges, leaving denigration of Fullerton and his allies to friendly organs like Baseball Magazine and The Sporting News. In the short run, the strategy worked. Despite reiteration in follow-up columns, Fullerton’s concerns gained little traction with baseball fans. By the start of the new season, the notion that the 1919 World Series had not been on the level was mostly forgotten — except at White Sox headquarters.

Unbeknownst to the sporting press or public, White Sox owner Charles Comiskey had not dismissed the allegations made against his team. While the 1919 Series was in progress, Comiskey had been disturbed by privately received reports that his team was going to throw the championship series. Shortly after the Series was over, club officials were dispatched to St. Louis to make discreet inquiry into fix rumors. Much to Comiskey’s chagrin, disgruntled local gambling informants endorsed the charge that members of his team had thrown the Series in exchange for a promised $100,000 payoff. Lingering doubt on that score was subsequently erased when in-the-know gamblers Harry Redmon and Joe Pesch repeated the fix details to Comiskey and other club brass during a late December meeting in Chicago.

Of the courses available to him, Comiskey opted to pursue the one of self-interest. Rather than expose the perfidy of his players and precipitate the breakup of a championship team, Comiskey kept his fix information quiet. Early in the new year, the corrupted players were re-signed for the 1920 season, with Joe Jackson, Happy Felsch, Swede Risberg, and Lefty Williams receiving substantial pay raises, to boot. Only fix ringleader Chick Gandil experienced any degree of Comiskey wrath; Gandil was tendered a contract for no more than his previous season’s salary. When, as expected, Gandil rejected the pact, Comiskey took pleasure in placing him on the club’s ineligible list. That suspension continued in force all season and effectively ended Chick Gandil’s playing career. He never appeared in a major-league game after the 1919 World Series.

From a financial standpoint, Comiskey’s silence paid off. Fueled by a return to pre-World War I “normalcy” and the unprecedented slugging exploits of a pitcher-turned-outfielder named Babe Ruth, major-league baseball underwent an explosion in popularity. With its defending AL champion team intact except for Gandil, the White Sox spent the 1920 season in the midst of an exciting three-way pennant battle with New York and Cleveland. With attendance at Comiskey Park soaring to new heights, club coffers overflowed with revenue. Then late in the 1920 season, it all began to unravel. The immediate cause was an unlikely one: the suspected fix of a meaningless late August game between the Chicago Cubs and Philadelphia Phillies.

At first the matter seemed no more than a distraction, the latest of the minor annoyances that bedeviled the game that season. That spring, baseball had been mildly discomforted by exposure of the game-fixing proclivities of Hal Chase, revealed during the trial of a breach-of-contract lawsuit instituted by black-sheep teammate Lee Magee. Then in early August, West Coast baseball followers were shaken by allegations that cast serious doubt upon the legitimacy of the 1919 Pacific Coast League crown won by the Vernon Tigers. In time, the PCL scandal would have momentous consequences, providing Commissioner Landis with instructive precedent for dealing with courtroom-acquitted Black Sox defendants. In the near term, however, the significance of these matters resided mainly in their effect upon Cubs president William L. Veeck Sr. Unhappy connection to both the Magee affair and the PCL scandal — Veeck’s boss, Cubs owner William Wrigley, was livid over the prospect that his Los Angeles Angels might have been cheated out of the PCL pennant — prompted Veeck to make public disclosure of the Cubs-Phillies fix reports and to pledge club cooperation with any investigative body wishing to delve into the matter.

Revelation that the outcome of the Cubs-Phillies game might have been rigged engaged the attention of two of the Black Sox Scandal’s most formidable actors: Cook County Judge Charles A. McDonald and American League President Ban Johnson. Only recently installed as chief justice of Chicago’s criminal courts and an avid baseball fan, McDonald promptly empaneled a grand jury to investigate the game fix reports.

But within days, influential sportswriter Joe Vila of the New York Sun, prominent Chicago businessman-baseball fan Fred Loomis, and others were pressing a more substantial target upon the grand jury: the 1919 World Series. Privately, Johnson, a longtime acquaintance of Judge McDonald, urged a similar course upon the jurist. Like Comiskey, Johnson had conducted his own confidential investigation into the outcome of the 1919 Series. And he too had uncovered evidence that the Series had been corrupted. McDonald was amenable to expansion of the grand jury’s probe, and by the time the grand jury conducted its first substantive session on September 22, 1920, inquiry into the Cubs-Phillies game had been relegated to secondary status. The panel’s attention would be focused on the 1919 World Series.

The ensuing proceedings were remarkable for many reasons, not the least of which was the wholesale disregard of the mandate of grand-jury secrecy. Violation of this black-letter precept of law was justified on the dubious premise that baseball would benefit from the airing of its dirty laundry, and soon newspapers nationwide were reporting the details, often verbatim, of grand-jury testimony.

This breach of law was accompanied by another extra-legal phenomenon: almost daily public commentary on the proceedings by the grand-jury foreman, the prosecuting attorney, and, on occasion, Judge McDonald himself. In a matter of days, the transparency of the proceedings permitted the Chicago Tribune to announce the impending indictment of eight White Sox players: Eddie Cicotte, Chick Gandil, Joe Jackson, Buck Weaver, Lefty Williams, Happy Felsch, Swede Risberg, and Fred McMullin — the men soon branded the Black Sox. For the time being, the charge against them was the generic conspiracy to commit an illegal act. The scandal spotlight then shifted briefly to Philadelphia, where a fix insider was giving the interview that would blow the scandal wide open.

In the September 27, 1920, edition of the Philadelphia North American, Billy Maharg declared that Games One, Two, and Eight of the 1919 World Series had been rigged. According to Maharg, the outcome of the first two games had been procured by the bribery of the White Sox players by the Burns/Attell/Bennett combine. The abysmal pitching performance that cost Chicago any chance of winning Game Eight was the product of intimidation of Lefty Williams by the Zork-Franklin forces, Maharg implied.

Wire service republication of the Maharg expose produced swift and stunning reaction. A day later, first Eddie Cicotte and then Joe Jackson admitted agreeing to accept a payoff to lose the Series when interviewed in the office of White Sox legal counsel Alfred Austrian. The two then repeated this admission under oath before the grand jury. Interestingly, neither Cicotte nor Jackson confessed to making a deliberate misplay during the Series. Press accounts that had Cicotte describing how he lobbed hittable pitches to the plate and/or had Jackson admitting to deliberate failure in the field or at bat were entirely bogus. According to the transcriptions of their testimony, the two had told the grand jury no such thing. While each had taken the gamblers’ money, Cicotte and Jackson both insisted that they had played to win at all times against the Reds. The other player participants in the Series fix were identified by Cicotte and Jackson, but apart from laying blame on Gandil, neither man disclosed much knowledge of how the fix had been instigated or who had financed it.

This exercise repeated itself when Lefty Williams spoke the following day. Like Cicotte and Jackson, Lefty admitted joining the fix conspiracy and accepting gamblers’ money, first confessing in the Austrian law office, and thereafter in testimony before the grand jury. But Williams also denied that he had done anything corrupt on the field to earn his payment. He said he had tried his best at all times, even during his dismal Game Eight start. For the grand-jury record, Lefty officially identified the fix participants as “Cicotte, Gandil, Weaver, Felsch, Risberg, McMullin, Jackson, and myself.” Williams also put names on some of the gambler co-conspirators. At the Warner Hotel in Chicago, they had been named “Sullivan” and “Brown.” At the Sinton Hotel in Cincinnati, the fix proponents had been Bill Burns, Abe Attell, and a third man named “Bennett.”

A similar tack was taken by Happy Felsch when interviewed by a reporter for the Chicago Evening American. Like the others, Felsch admitted his complicity in the fix plot and his acceptance of gamblers’ money. But his subpar Series performance, particularly in center field, had not been deliberate, he said. Lest the underworld get the wrong idea, Felsch hastened to add that he had been prepared to make a game-decisive misplay, but the opportunity to do so had not presented itself during the Series. Unlike the others, Happy confined admission of wrongdoing to himself, although he had come to admire the way that Cicotte had demanded his payoff money up-front. Felsch did not know who had financed the fix, but he was willing to subscribe to press reports that it had been Abe Attell.

A far different public stance was adopted by the other Black Sox. Chick Gandil, Swede Risberg, Fred McMullin, and Buck Weaver all protested their innocence, with Weaver in particular adamant about his intention to obtain legal counsel and fight any charges preferred against him in court. Those charges would not be long in coming. On October 29, 1920, five counts of conspiracy to obtain money by false pretenses and/or via a confidence game were returned against the Black Sox by the grand jury. Gamblers Bill Burns, Hal Chase, Abe Attell, Sport Sullivan, and Rachael Brown were also charged in the indictments.

*****

The stage thereupon shifted to the criminal courts for a whirl of legal events, few of which are accurately described or well understood in latter-day Black Sox literature.

The return of criminal charges in the Black Sox case coincided with the Republican Party’s political landslide in the November 1920 elections. An entirely different administration soon took charge of the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office, the prosecuting agency in the baseball scandal. When the regime of new State’s Attorney Robert E. Crowe assumed office, it found the high-profile Black Sox case in disarray. The investigation underlying the indictments was incomplete. Evidence was missing from the prosecutors’ vault, including transcriptions of the Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams grand-jury testimony.

Worse yet, it appeared that their predecessors in office had premised prosecution of the Black Sox case on cooperation anticipated from Cicotte, Jackson, and/or Williams, each of whom had admitted fix complicity before the grand jury. But now, the trio was standing firm with the other accused players, and seeking to have their grand-jury confessions suppressed by the court on legal grounds. This placed the new prosecuting attorneys in desperate need of time to rethink and then rebuild their case.

In March 1921, prosecutors’ hopes for an adjournment were dashed by Judge William E. Dever, who set a quick peremptory trial date. This prompted a drastic response from prosecutor Crowe. Rather than try to pull the Black Sox case together on short notice, he administratively dismissed the charges. Crowe coupled public announcement of this stunning development with the promise that the Black Sox case would be presented to the grand jury again for new indictments.

Before the month was out, that promise was fulfilled. Expedited grand-jury proceedings yielded new indictments that essentially replicated the dismissed ones. All those previously charged were re-indicted, while the roster of gambler defendants was enlarged to include Carl Zork, Benjamin Franklin, David (Bennett) Zelcer, and brothers Ben and Lou Levi, reputedly related to Zelcer by marriage and long targeted for prosecution by AL President Ban Johnson.

With the legal proceedings now reverting to courtroom stage one, prosecutors had acquired the time necessary to get their case in better shape. That extra time was needed, as the prosecution remained besieged on many fronts. The State was deluged by defense motions to dismiss the charges, suppress evidence, limit testimony, and the like. Prosecutors were also having trouble getting the gambler defendants into court. Sport Sullivan and Rachael Brown remained somewhere at large. Hal Chase and Abe Attell successfully resisted extradition to Chicago, and Ben Franklin was excused from the proceedings on grounds of illness.

 

Bill Burns

Former major-league pitcher Bill Burns was the prosecution’s star witness in the Black Sox criminal trial in 1921. It took quite an adventure — and a lot of money from the American League treasury — to get him on the stand. (BaseballHall.org)

 

In the run-up to trial, however, prosecution prospects received one major boost. Retrieved from the Mexican border by his pal Billy Maharg (via a trip financed by Ban Johnson), Bill Burns had agreed to turn State’s evidence in return for immunity. Now, prosecutors had the crucial fix insider that their case had been lacking.

Jury selection began on June 16, 1921, and dragged on for several weeks. Appearing as counsel on behalf of the accused were some of the Midwest’s finest criminal defense lawyers: Thomas Nash and Michael Ahern (representing Weaver, Felsch, Risberg, and McMullin; McMullin did not arrive in Chicago until after jury selection had begun, and for this reason, the trial went on without him and the charges against him were later dismissed); Benedict Short and George Guenther (Jackson and Williams); James O’Brien and John Prystalski (Gandil); A. Morgan Frumberg and Henry Berger (Zork), and Max Luster and J.J. Cooke (Zelcer and the Levi brothers). Cicotte, meanwhile, was represented by his friend and personal attorney Daniel Cassidy, a civil lawyer from Detroit.

Although outnumbered, the prosecution was hardly outgunned, with its chairs filled by experienced trial lawyers: Assistant State’s Attorneys George Gorman and John Tyrrell, and Special Prosecutor Edward Prindiville, with assistance from former Judge George Barrett representing the interests of the American League in court, and a cadre of attorneys in the employ of AL President Johnson working behind the scenes.

About the only unproven commodity in the courtroom was the newly assigned trial judge, Hugo Friend. Judge Friend would later go on to a distinguished 46-year career on Illinois trial and appellate benches. But at the time of the Black Sox trial, he was a judicial novice, presiding over his first significant case. Although his mettle would often be tested by a battalion of fractious barristers, Friend’s intelligence and sense of fairness would stand him in good stead. The Black Sox case would be generally well tried, if not error-free.

In a sweltering midsummer courtroom, the prosecution commenced its case with the witnesses needed to establish factual minutiae — the scores of 1919 World Series games, the employment of the accused players by the Chicago White Sox, the winning and losing Series shares, etc. — that the defense, for tactical reasons, declined to stipulate. Then, chief prosecution witness Bill Burns assumed the stand. For the better part of three days, Burns recounted the events that had precipitated the corruption of the 1919 World Series. Those who had equated Burns with his “Sleepy Bill” nickname were in for a shock. Quick-witted and unflappable, Burns was more than a match for sneering defense lawyers, much to the astonishment, then delight, of the jaded Black Sox trial press corps. Newspaper reviews of Burns’s testimony glowed and, by the time their star witness stepped down, prosecutors were near-jubilant. Thereafter, prosecution focus temporarily shifted to incriminating Zork and the other Midwestern gambler defendants.

Halfway through the State’s case, the jury was excused while the court conducted an evidentiary hearing into the admissibility of the Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams grand-jury testimony. Modern accounts of the Black Sox saga often relate that the prosecution was grievously injured by the loss of grand-jury documents. That was hardly the case. When prosecutors discovered that the original grand-jury transcripts were missing, they merely had the grand-jury stenographers create new ones from their shorthand notes. These second-generation transcripts were available throughout the proceedings, and Black Sox defense lawyers did not contest their accuracy.

What was contested was whether, and to what extent, the trial jury should be made privy to what Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams had told the grand jurors. According to the defense, the Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams grand-jury testimony had been induced by broken off-the-record promises of immunity from prosecution. If this were true, the testimony would be deemed involuntary in the legal sense and inadmissible against the accused.

With testimony restricted exclusively to what had happened in and around the grand-jury room, the proceedings devolved into a swearing contest. Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams testified that they had been promised immunity. Lead grand-jury prosecutor Hartley Replogle and Judge McDonald denied it. During the hearing, grand-jury excerpts were read into the record at length. After hearing both sides, Judge Friend determined that the defendants had confessed freely, without any promise of leniency. Their grand-jury testimony would be admissible in evidence — but not before each grand-jury transcript had been edited to delete all reference to Chick Gandil, Buck Weaver, or anyone else mentioned in it, other than the speaker himself. Once this tedious task was accomplished, the redacted grand-jury testimony of Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, and Lefty Williams was read to the jury, a prolonged and dry exercise that seemed to anesthetize most panel members.

The numbing effect that the transcript readings had on the jury was not lost on prosecutors. Wishing to close their case while it still enjoyed the momentum of the Burns testimony, prosecutors made a fateful strategic decision. They jettisoned the remainder of their scheduled witnesses (Ban Johnson, Joe Pesch, St. Louis Browns second baseman Joe Gedeon, et al.) and wrapped up the State’s case with another fix insider: unindicted co-conspirator Billy Maharg. The affable Maharg provided an account of the fix developments that he was witness to, providing firm and consistent corroboration of many fix details supplied by Bill Burns earlier.

Pleased with Maharg’s performance, prosecutors rested their case. Now they would be obliged to accept the cost of short-circuiting their proofs. In response to defense motions, Judge Friend dismissed the charges against the Levi brothers for lack of evidence. He also signaled that he would be disposed to overturn any guilty verdict returned by the jury against Carl Zork, Buck Weaver, or Happy Felsch, given the thinness of the incriminating evidence presented against them. These rulings, however, did not visibly trouble the prosecutors, for they had plainly decided to concentrate their efforts on convicting defendants Gandil, Cicotte, Jackson, Williams, and the gambler David Zelcer.

The defense had long advertised that the Black Sox would be testifying in their own defense. But that would have to wait, as the gambler defendants would be going first. Once the Zelcer and Zork defenses had presented their cases, the Gandil defense took the floor, calling a series of witnesses mainly intended to make a liar out of Bill Burns.

Also presented was White Sox club secretary Harry Grabiner, whose testimony about soaring 1920 club revenues undermined the contention that team owner Comiskey or the White Sox corporation had been injured by the fix of the 1919 World Series. (Years later, jury foreman William Barry would tell Judge Friend that the Grabiner testimony had had more influence on the jury than that of any other witness.)

Then, with the stage finally set for Chick to take the stand, the Gandil defense abruptly rested. So did the other Black Sox. Little explanation for this change in defense plan was offered, apart from the comment that there was no need for the accused players to testify because the State had made no case against them. Caught off-guard by defense maneuvers, the prosecution scrambled to present rebuttal witnesses, most of whom were excluded from the testifying by Judge Friend. As little in the way of a defense had been mounted by the player defendants, there was no legal justification for admitting rebuttal.

The remainder of the trial was devoted to closing stemwinders by opposing counsel and the court’s instructions on the law. Then the jury retired to deliberate. Less than three hours later, it reached a verdict. With the parties reassembled in a courtroom packed with defense partisans, the court clerk announced the outcome: Not Guilty, as to all defendants on all charges. A smiling Judge Friend concurred, pronouncing the jury’s verdict a fair one.

 

Minutes after the Black Sox were acquitted on August 2, 1921, the players, their attorneys, and members of the jury (in shirt sleeves) celebrated the verdict by posing for a photo on the courthouse steps. (Chicago Tribune)

 

With that, pandemonium erupted. Jurors shook hands and congratulated the men whom they had just acquitted. Some in the crowd even hoisted defendants onto their shoulders and paraded them around. Thereafter, defendants, defense lawyers, jurors, and defense followers gathered on the courthouse steps, where their mutual joy was captured in a photo published by the Chicago Tribune. Later, a post-verdict celebration brought the defendants and the jurors together once again at a nearby Italian restaurant. There, the revelry continued into the wee hours of the morning, closing with jurors and Black Sox singing “Hail, Hail, The Gang’s All Here.”

This extraordinary exhibition of camaraderie suggests that the verdict may have been a product of that courthouse phenomenon that all prosecutors dread: jury nullification. In a criminal case, jurors are carefully instructed to abjure passion, prejudice, sympathy, and other emotion in rendering judgment. They are to base their verdict entirely on the evidence presented and the law. But during deliberations in highly charged cases, this instruction is susceptible to being overridden by the jury’s identification with the accused. Or by dislike of the victim. Or by the urge to send some sort of message to the community at large.

In the Black Sox case, defense counsel, notably Benedict Short and Henry Berger, worked assiduously to cultivate a bond between the working-class men on the jury and the blue-collar defendants. The defense’s closing arguments to the jury, particularly those of Short, Thomas Nash, A. Morgan Frumberg, and James O’Brien, stridently denounced the wealthy victim Comiskey and his corporation. The defense lawyers also raised the specter of another menace: AL President Ban Johnson, portrayed as a malevolent force working outside of jury view to ensure the unfair condemnation of the accused.

In the end, of course, the underlying basis for the jury’s acquittal of the Black Sox is unknowable all these years later. Significantly, the fair-minded Judge Friend concurred in the outcome. Still, jury nullification remains a plausible explanation for the verdict, particularly when it came to jurors’ resolution of the charges against defendants Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams, against whom the State had presented a facially strong case.

Few others shared the jurors’ satisfaction in their verdict, with many baseball officials vowing never to grant employment to the acquitted players. That sentiment was quickly rendered academic. Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis had taken note of the minor leagues’ prompt expulsion of the Pacific Coast League players who had had their indictments dismissed by the judge in that game-fixing case. Landis, who had been hired as commissioner in November 1920, now utilized that action as precedent.

With a famous edict that began “Regardless of the verdict of juries …,” Landis permanently barred the eight Black Sox players from participation in Organized Baseball. And with that, Joe Jackson, Eddie Cicotte, Buck Weaver, and the rest were consigned to the sporting wilderness. None would ever appear in another major-league game. The Black Sox saga, however, was not quite over.

 

Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis banned the eight Black Sox players for life from Organized Baseball in 1921. (Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division)

 

*****

In the aftermath of their official banishment from the game, Buck Weaver, Happy Felsch, Swede Risberg, and Joe Jackson instituted civil litigation against the White Sox, pursuing grievances grounded in breach of contract, defamation, and restraint on their professional livelihoods.

Outside of Milwaukee, where the Felsch/Risberg/Jackson suits were filed, little attention was paid to their complaints. Jackson’s breach-of-contract suit was the only one that ever went to trial. It was founded on the three-year contract that Jackson had signed with the White Sox in late February 1920, months after the World Series. The club had unilaterally voided the pact when it released Jackson in March 1921, and he had gone unpaid for the 1921 and 1922 baseball seasons.

In a pretrial deposition, plaintiff Jackson disputed that his termination by the White Sox had been justified by his involvement in the Series fix. On that point, Jackson swore to a set of fix-related events dramatically at odds with his earlier grand-jury testimony. Jackson now maintained that he had had no connection to the conspiracy to rig the 1919 Series. He had not even known about it until after the Series was over, when a drunken Lefty Williams foisted a $5,000 fix share on Jackson, telling him that the Black Sox had used Jackson’s name while trying to persuade gamblers to finance the fix scheme.

When the suit was tried in early 1924, its highlight was Jackson’s cross-examination by White Sox attorney George Hudnall. Confronted with his grand-jury testimony of September 28, 1920, Jackson did not attempt to explain away the contradiction between his civil deposition assertions and his grand-jury testimony. Nor did he attempt to harmonize the two. Rather, Jackson maintained — more than 100 times — that he had never made the statements contained in the transcript of his grand-jury testimony.

An outraged Judge John J. Gregory subsequently cited Jackson for perjury and had him jailed overnight. The court vacated the jury’s $16,711.04 award in Jackson favor, ruling that it was grounded in false testimony and jury nonfeasance. After the proceedings were over, civil jury foreman John E. Sanderson shed light on the jury’s thinking. Sanderson informed the press that the jury had entirely disregarded Jackson’s testimony about disputed events. The foreman also rejected the notion that the panel had exonerated Jackson of participation in the 1919 World Series fix.

Rather, the jury had premised its judgment for Jackson on the legal principle of condonation. As far as the jury was concerned, White Sox team brass had known of Jackson’s World Series fix involvement well before the new three-year contract was tendered to him in February 1920. Having thus effectively condoned (or forgiven) Jackson’s Series misconduct by re-signing him, the club was in no position to void that contract once the public found out what club management had known about Jackson all along. Jackson was, according to the Milwaukee jury, therefore entitled to his 1921 and 1922 pay.

In time, the four civil lawsuits, including that of Jackson, were settled out of court for modest sums. Little notice was taken, as the baseball press and public had long since moved on. In the ensuing years, the Black Sox Scandal receded in memory, recalled only in the random sports column, magazine article, or, starting with the death of Joe Jackson in December 1951, the obituary of a Black Sox player.

Revival of interest in the scandal commenced in the late 1950s, but did not attract widespread attention until the publication of Eliot Asinof’s classic Eight Men Out in 1963. Regrettably, this spellbinding account of the scandal was marred by historically inaccurate detail, attributable presumably to the fact that much of the criminal case record had been unavailable to Asinof, having disappeared from court archives over the years. This had compelled Asinof to rely upon scandal survivors, particularly Abe Attell, an engaging but unreliable informant.

Asinof also exercised artistic license in his work, creating, apparently for copyright protection purposes, a fictitious villain named “Harry F.” to intimidate Lefty Williams into his dreadful Game Eight pitching performance. Asinof likewise embellished his tale of the Jackson civil case, inserting melodramatic events, such as White Sox lawyer Hudnall pulling a supposedly lost Jackson grand-jury transcript out of his briefcase in midtrial, into Eight Men Out that are nowhere memorialized in the fully extant record of the civil proceedings.

Over the years, the embrace of such Asinof inventions, as well as the repetition of more ancient canards — the miserly wage that Comiskey supposedly paid the corrupted players, the notion that disappearing grand-jury testimony hamstrung the prosecution, and other fictions – has become a recurring feature of much Black Sox literature.

In 2002 scandal enthusiast Gene Carney commenced a near-obsessive re-examination of the Black Sox affair. First in weekly blog posts and later in his important book Burying the Black Sox: How Baseball’s Cover-Up of the 1919 World Series Fix Almost Succeeded (Potomac Books, 2006), Carney circulated his findings, which were often at variance with long-accepted scandal wisdom. Sadly, this work was cut short by Carney’s untimely passing in July 2009. But the mission endures, carried on by others, including the membership of the SABR committee inspired by Carney’s zeal.

That scandal revelations are still to be made is clear, manifested by events like the surfacing of a treasure trove of lost Black Sox documents acquired by the Chicago History Museum several years ago. As the playing of the 1919 World Series approaches its 100th anniversary, the investigation continues. And the final word on the Black Sox Scandal remains to be written.

WILLIAM F. LAMB is the author of “Black Sox in the Courtroom: The Grand Jury, Criminal Trial and Civil Litigation” (McFarland & Co., 2013). He spent more than 30 years as a state/county prosecutor in New Jersey. In retirement, he lives in Meredith, New Hampshire, and serves as the editor of “The Inside Game,” the quarterly newsletter of SABR’s Deadball Era Research Committee. He has contributed more than 50 bios to the SABR BioProject.

 

Sources

This essay is drawn from a more comprehensive account of the Black Sox legal proceedings provided in the writer’s Black Sox in the Courtroom: The Grand Jury, Criminal Trial, and Civil Litigation (McFarland & Co., 2013). Underlying sources include surviving fragments of the judicial record; the Black Sox Scandal collections maintained at the Chicago History Museum and the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum’s Giamatti Research Center; the transcript of Joe Jackson’s 1924 lawsuit against the Chicago White Sox held by the Chicago Baseball Museum; newspaper archives in Chicago and elsewhere; and contemporary Black Sox scholarship, particularly the work of Gene Carney, Bob Hoie, and Bruce Allardice.

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1919 World Series: A Recap https://sabr.org/journal/article/1919-world-series-a-recap/ Fri, 28 Sep 2018 03:10:17 +0000 A great deal has been written about the faceoff between the Chicago White Sox and the Cincinnati Reds in the best-of-nine 1919 World Series. Probably no other baseball World Series has drawn more attention from commentators and historians. However, the vast majority of words written about the Series relate to what has become commonly known as the Black Sox Scandal. In that regard, discussion has centered on a few plays regarded as proving or, in some cases, disproving that certain players on the White Sox team conspired to throw the World Series at the behest of a group or groups of professional gamblers and for their own monetary gain.

Nonetheless, an eight-game series was played in which suspicion is cast on only a few key plays. There is even general agreement among knowledgeable observers that several of the games were played entirely on the up-and-up. What follows is a game-by-game description of this Series with minimal attention to the controversial plays. While some of the more obvious ones will be pointed out, the whys and wherefores will be left for others to study and write about here and elsewhere.

 

The Teams

The 1919 edition of Charles Comiskey’s Chicago White Sox entered their second World Series in three seasons with an American League record of 88-52. They led the Cleveland Indians by 3½ games at season’s end. Chicago hit .287 as a team and scored 668 runs, ranking the team number one in each category among AL teams. They had a team ERA of 3.04 (fourth in the AL) and allowed 534 runs (second). Their manager, William J. “Kid” Gleason, was in his first year in that position.

The Cincinnati Reds were owned by August “Garry” Herrmann and managed by Pat Moran, a veteran of four previous campaigns at the helm of the Philadelphia Phillies. The Reds’ record of 96-44 was nine games better than the New York Giants in the National League pennant race. The Reds hit .263 as a team and scored 578 runs, both second-best figures among NL teams (to the Giants). They had a team ERA of 2.23 (second-best) and allowed an NL-low 401 runs. This was Cincinnati’s first World Series appearance.

 

Game One

Wednesday, October 1
Redland Field, Cincinnati
“White Sox Lose in Opener, 9 to 1”
Chicago Tribune
“Chicago, Outclassed, Loses First Game 9 to 1; Reds Quickly Hammer Eddie Cicotte From Box” Cincinnati Enquirer

White Sox        010      000      000 — 1 6 1
Reds                100      500      21x — 9 14 1
WP: Dutch Ruether (1-0). LP: Eddie Cicotte (0-1).
Dutch Ruether: 9 IP, 6 H, 1 R, 0 ER, 1 BB, 1 K.
Eddie Cicotte: 3⅔ IP, 7 H, 6 R, 6 ER, 2 BB, 1 K.
Dutch Ruether: 3-3, 2 3B, BB, R, 3 RBI. Greasy Neale: 3-4, 2 R. Jake Daubert: 3-4, 3B, R, RBI.
Chick Gandil: 2-4, RBI. Joe Jackson: 0-4, R. Buck Weaver: 1-4. Eddie Collins: 1-4, CS.
Attendance: 30,511. Time: 1:42.

 

The starting pitchers for Game One were lefty Dutch Ruether (19-6 W-L, 1.82 ERA regular season) for the Reds and right-hander Eddie Cicotte (29-7, 1.82) for the White Sox. The Reds initiated the scoring with a run in the bottom of the first inning. Their leadoff batter was second baseman Morrie Rath. Cicotte’s second pitch struck him in the back. The pitch is one of the most analyzed in World Series history; many believing the pitch was a signal from Cicotte to bettors that the fix was in. The next batter up, first baseman Jake Daubert, singled Rath to third. Third baseman Heinie Groh’s sacrifice fly to deep left field sent Rath home with the first run of the Series.

In the top of the second, the White Sox struck back. Left fielder Joe Jackson led off the inning by reaching second base on a bad throw by shortstop Larry Kopf. Jackson reached third on a sacrifice bunt by center fielder Happy Felsch, then scored when first baseman Chick Gandil’s short fly to left dropped in for a hit. The inning ended with the score tied at 1 apiece.

The score remained tied until the Reds’ half of the fourth inning. Joe Jackson’s counterpart in left, Pat Duncan, started the ball rolling with a one-out single to right. Duncan was forced at second by Kopf for out number two. Eyebrows were raised by some who thought Cicotte hesitated before tossing the ball to shortstop Swede Risberg covering second. Others noted that Risberg seemed to stumble over the bag as he attempted unsuccessfully to double Kopf to end the inning. This proved costly as Reds right fielder Greasy Neale scratched out an infield single. That brought up catcher Ivey Wingo, who sent Kopf home with a single for what proved to be the winning run. The score jumped to 4-1 when pitcher Ruether tripled to deep left-center to drive Neale and Wingo across. The offensive show continued with Rath’s double scoring Ruether. The scoring for the inning ended with the Reds up 6-1 when Daubert’s single drove home Rath. At that point Kid Gleason removed Cicotte and replaced him with Roy Wilkinson. The right-hander ended the inning by retiring Groh on a fly ball to center.

Staked to a 6-1 lead, Ruether limited the White Sox to four hits, all singles, and no runs the rest of the way. In the meantime the Reds increased their lead with a pair of runs in the seventh as Groh followed a Daubert triple with a single and later scored on a force play. The Reds’ final run scored in their half of the eighth when Ruether stroked his second triple of the afternoon to score Neale, who had begun the inning with a single. Ruether then proceeded to complete his day’s work and secure the first-ever World Series win for the Reds by retiring Jackson, Felsch, and Gandil in order to end the game. The final score was 9-1.

 

Game Two

Thursday, October 2
Redland Field, Cincinnati
“White Sox Crushed Again, 4 to 2”
Chicago Tribune
“White Sox Sluggers Helpless With Men on Bases; Reds Defeat Kid Gleason’s Second Ace 4 to 2” Cincinnati Enquirer

White Sox        000      000      200 — 2 10 1
Reds                000      301      00x — 4 4 3
WP: Slim Sallee (1-0). LP: Lefty Williams (0-1).
Slim Sallee: 9 IP, 10 H, 2 R, 0 ER, 1 BB, 2 K.
Lefty Williams: 8 IP, 4 H, 4 R, 4 ER, 6 BB, 1 K.
Larry Kopf: 1-3, 3B, 2 RBI. Edd Roush: 1-2, R, 2 BB, RBI. Greasy Neale: 1-3, RBI.
Joe Jackson: 3-4, 2B, K. Ray Schalk: 2-4, R. Buck Weaver: 2-4, 2B.
Attendance: 29,698. Time: 1:42.

 

The White Sox sent Claude “Lefty” Williams (23-11, 2.64) to the mound for Game Two. The Reds countered with another lefty, Slim Sallee (21-7, 2.06). Both pitchers started off strong. It was the bottom of the fourth inning when the Reds broke the ice in a big way. It all started when Williams walked leadoff batter Rath, who reached second via a sacrifice and then watched as Groh was walked. A single by center fielder Edd Roush, the Reds’ best hitter, drove home Rath with the first run for the National Leaguers. After Roush was thrown out at second on an attempted steal, Williams issued yet another walk, to Duncan. This was Lefty’s third walk of the inning and fourth of a game that would see him pass six Reds in eight innings pitched. Skeptics of Williams’s efforts that day, and in the Series as a whole, could point to the left-hander’s reputation as one of the game’s premier control pitchers. In 1919, for example, he had issued 58 walks in 297 innings pitched. His career totals were 347 walks in 1,186 innings. Kopf made sure the last two fourth-inning walks were costly by tripling to left to score Groh and Duncan. The inning ended with the Reds ahead by three.

The White Sox did not score until the top of the seventh inning, breaking a string of 13 scoreless frames. By then the Reds had increased their lead to 4-0 when Williams began the bottom of the sixth inning by walking Roush. It was the third inning of six in which Williams had issued a free pass to the Reds’ leadoff batter. Twice the leadoff walk yielded a run, this time when Roush reached second on a sacrifice bunt by Duncan and scored on a single by Neale. When the White Sox finally scored, it was a pair of unearned runs. Their only runs of the afternoon came in the seventh when Risberg singled with one out. Catcher Ray Schalk followed with a single. Risberg scored on the play as a result of an errant throw to second by Reds right fielder Neale. Schalk scored as well when third baseman Groh threw wildly to home plate. That was the end of the scoring as a White Sox rally in the ninth fell short. The 4-2 victory, secured despite the fact that the White Sox had 10 hits – three by Jackson, two each by Schalk and Buck Weaver – to the winner’s four, put the Reds ahead in the Series by two games.

 

Game Three

Friday, October 3
Comiskey Park, Chicago
“Kerr Hurls Sox to Victory, 3 to 0”
Chicago Tribune
“Kerr Stops Reds, Registering Shut-Out; Fisher’s Wild Throw Gives Sox Two Runs” Cincinnati Enquirer

Reds                000      000      000 — 0 3 1
White Sox        020      100      00x — 3 7 0
WP: Dickey Kerr (1-0). LP: Ray Fisher (0-1).
Dickey Kerr: 9 IP, 3 H, 0 R, 0 ER, 1 BB, 4 K.
Ray Fisher: 7 IP, 7 H, 3 R, 2 ER, 2 BB, 1 K.
Joe Jackson: 2-3, R. Chick Gandil: 1-3, K, 2 RBI. Swede Risberg: 1-2, 3B, BB, R. Ray Schalk: 1-3, RBI.
Attendance: 29,126. Time: 1:30.

 

Manager Kid Gleason’s choice to pitch his club back into the Series was Dickey Kerr (13-7, 2.88). The rookie left-hander was pressed into front-line duty due to the absence of Red Faber. The future Hall of Fame pitcher was battling illness and injury. The choice of Pat Moran to secure yet another Reds win was expected to be Hod Eller. Instead, right-handed veteran Ray Fisher (14-5, 2.17) received the starting nod.

In the bottom of the second inning the White Sox, playing for the first time at home, scored twice. Jackson led off with a single and reached third base when Fisher fielded Felsch’s attempt at a sacrifice and threw wildly to second attempting a force out. Felsch continued on to second on the miscue. The next batter, Gandil, drove in both baserunners with a single to right, Gandil ending up at second. Although Risberg walked, no further damage was done as the next three White Sox batters made outs. The first of those batters, Schalk, attempted to move Gandil and Risberg up with a sacrifice bunt, but Fisher’s throw to third forced Gandil. Some have argued that Gandil could have beaten the throw with a better effort.

The two-run lead held for the White Sox until the bottom of the fourth, when they scored their third and final run. A one-out triple by Risberg followed by a Schalk single did the trick. White Sox hitters had produced three runs in four innings. Kerr did the rest, twirling a three-hit shutout while retiring the last 15 Reds batters. Kerr’s magnificent performance – he struck out four and walked only one – was in stark contrast to the performances of his more heralded pitching colleagues, Cicotte and Williams.

 

Game Four

Saturday, October 4
Comiskey Park, Chicago
“Sox Humbled in Fourth Game, 2-0”
Chicago Tribune
“Ring Whitewashes Sox, Giving Reds 3-to-1 Lead; Cicotte Suffers His Second Defeat of Series” Cincinnati Enquirer

Reds                000      020      000 — 2 5 2
White Sox        000      000      000 — 0 3 2
WP: Jimmy Ring (1-0). LP: Eddie Cicotte (0-2).
Jimmy Ring: 9 IP, 3 H, 0 R, 0 ER, 3 BB, 2 K.
Eddie Cicotte: 9 IP, 5 H, 2 R, 0 ER, 0 BB, 2 K.
Ivey Wingo: 2-3. Greasy Neale: 1-3, 2B, RBI. Larry Kopf: 1-3, R, RBI.
Joe Jackson: 1-4, 2B, K. Happy Felsch: 1-3, SH. Chick Gandil: 1-4, K.
Attendance: 34,363. Time: 1:37.

 

The largest crowd to date in the Series saw Cicotte take his second turn on the mound for the White Sox. Yet another top-flight hurler, righty Jimmy Ring (10-9, 2.26), was the Reds’ choice to oppose him. The game was scoreless into the top of the fifth inning, when the Reds scored the game’s only runs. It all started out quite harmlessly as Roush was thrown out at first by catcher Schalk. The second out seemed assured when the next Reds batter, left fielder Duncan, hit the ball right back to Cicotte. However, the Sox pitcher bobbled the ball, then threw wildly to first, allowing Duncan to reach second. Kopf promptly singled to left. The ball was fielded by Joe Jackson. He threw toward home plate to hold Duncan at third. While the ball was in flight, Cicotte reached up and deflected it. The ball rolled toward the stands as Duncan headed home with the game’s first run and Kopf took second base. Cicotte’s error, his second of the inning, ignited another wave of speculation that some of the White Sox were not in the Series to win. This was only emphasized further when the next man up, Neale, doubled to left to drive in Kopf. When the inning ended the score was 2-0, and there it stayed as the Reds took a three-games-to-one lead in the Series. Until that “fateful fifth,” Cicotte had given up only two harmless singles. In all he gave up five hits – only one single after the fifth – and walked none. In shutting down the White Sox, Ring gave up a mere three hits while issuing three walks.

 

Game Five

Monday, October 6
Comiskey Park, Chicago
“Sox Crumble Before Eller, 5 to 0”
Chicago Tribune
“Eller Humbles White Sox, Pitching Shut-Out, Practically Clinching Big Series For Cincinnati” Cincinnati Enquirer

Reds                000      004      001 — 5 4 0
White Sox        000      000      000 — 0 3 3
WP: Hod Eller (1-0). LP: Lefty Williams (0-2).
Hod Eller: 9 IP, 3 H, 0 R, 0 ER, 1 BB, 9 K.
Lefty Williams: 8 IP, 4 H, 4 R, 4 ER, 2 BB, 3 K.
Edd Roush: 1-4, 3B, SB, 2 R, 2 RBI. Hod Eller: 1-3, 2B, R. Morrie Rath: 1-3, R, BB, RBI.
Buck Weaver: 2-4, 3B. Ray Schalk: 1-2, K. Nemo Leibold: 0-3, BB, K.
Attendance: 34,379. Time: 1:45.

 

Delayed one day by rain, the fifth game of the Series saw the Reds trot out their fifth different starter and third straight right-hander in Hod Eller (19-9, 2.39). Kid Gleason showed his continued faith in Williams, giving him the ball for the second time. The two starters gave evidence early on that this would be a classic pitchers’ duel. In the second and third innings Eller struck out six White Sox batters in a row, four on called third strikes. Williams was seemingly equal to the task, hurling hitless ball through four innings. The game was scoreless when the Reds came to bat in the top of the sixth. Then they hit pay dirt. Pitcher Eller led off the inning with a double to center, only the second Reds hit. He took third on the play when center fielder Felsch uncorked a bad throw. It was the second of three White Sox fielding errors in the game. Rath wasted no time in singling Eller home with the game’s first run. After Daubert was out sacrificing Rath to second, Williams walked Groh. Then Roush struck the game’s big blow, a triple to center, scoring both Rath and Groh. Some questioned Felsch’s positioning on the play as Roush’s drive went over his head. Schalk, who had protested vehemently when Groh was called safe at home, was ejected from the game for bumping and shoving home-plate umpire Cy Rigler. Duncan then drove Roush home with a sacrifice fly. The inning ended with the Reds in command at 4-0.

They scored an additional unearned run in the ninth off reliever Erskine Mayer. The final score was 5-0. Reds pitchers, fresh off a second straight three-hit gem, had now held the White Sox scoreless for 22 consecutive innings. Heading to Cincinnati, the AL champions were on the brink of elimination.

 

Game Six

Tuesday, October 7
Redland Field, Cincinnati
“Sox Fight to Victory in Tenth, 5-4”
Chicago Tribune
“Carelessness by Reds Gives Sox Game, Cincinnati ‘Blowing’ Four-Run Lead” Cincinnati Enquirer

White Sox        000      013      000      1 — 5 10 3
Reds                002      200      000      0 — 4 11 0
WP: Dickey Kerr (2-0). LP: Jimmy Ring (1-1).
Dickey Kerr: 10 IP, 11 H, 4 R, 3 ER, 2 BB, 2 K.
Jimmy Ring: 5 IP, 4 H, 1 R, 1 ER, 3 BB, 2 K.
Buck Weaver: 3-5, 2 2B, 2 R. Joe Jackson: 2-4, BB, R, RBI. Happy Felsch: 2-5, 2B, R, RBI.
Greasy Neale: 3-4, 3B, R. Pat Duncan: 1-5, 2B, 2 RBI. Jake Daubert: 2-4, SB, R. Dutch Ruether: 1-2, 2B, R, RBI.
Attendance: 32,006. Time: 2:06.

 

For what they hoped would be the final game of the Series, the Reds sent a well-rested Ruether, the winning pitcher in Game One, to the mound. Kid Gleason countered by calling on Game Three winner Kerr for more heroics. Initially it did not appear to be such a good move. The Reds ended Kerr’s scoreless inning string at 11 by scoring a pair of runs in both the third and fourth innings to take a 4-0 lead. The Reds’ runs in the third came after one was out. Daubert singled and stole second as Groh struck out. Kerr then filled the vacancy at first base by hitting Roush, and Duncan followed with a double to drive home both Daubert and Roush. The Reds built upon their lead in the fourth. Neale led off the inning with a triple to deep right field. Neale remained at third as the next batter, catcher Bill Rariden, grounded out. Ruether, one of the hitting stars of Game One, then helped out his cause again; this time he doubled to left to score Neale. Rath was up next. He was safe at first when White Sox shortstop Risberg fielded his grounder cleanly but committed his second error of the game – fourth of the Series – trying to cut down Ruether at third. An unearned run scored as a result of the bad throw. The score jumped to 4-0 and could have been worse as Rath, who had taken second on Risberg’s miscue, promptly stole third. There was still only one out when Daubert lifted a fly ball to Jackson in left. After Jackson made the catch, Rath attempted to score. Jackson’s throw doubled him at home to end the inning. There were some who credited Jackson with a strong, accurate throw, while others claimed the throw was wide and the run saved when catcher Schalk lunged across to block the plate.

Now the White Sox trailed the Reds by four runs, a seemingly insurmountable lead to overcome for a team held scoreless for the previous 26 innings. In the top of the fifth, the Sox finally broke through, albeit for only a single run. Ruether, dominating to that point, suddenly lost his control, issuing leadoff walks to Risberg and Schalk. Kerr scratched out a single to load the bases. No one was able to move up as Shano Collins flied out to short center. Eddie Collins then lifted a fly ball to center field. It was deep enough to score Risberg with the first White Sox run, but Schalk remained at second. Kerr did not notice. He advanced to second and was tagged out. An error by Felsch in the bottom of the fifth did no damage. The score at the end of five was 4-1 in favor of the Reds.

The White Sox half of the sixth proved to be their best to date. Weaver started with a double to shallow left. He scored as Jackson singled and in turn scored on a double to left-center by Felsch. The Sox now trailed by only one. Pat Moran had seen enough. He replaced Ruether with Game Four winner Ring. He retired Gandil and Risberg, but Schalk tied the game with a single that scored Felsch, who had advanced to third.

The game remained tied through regulation. In the top of the 10th, the White Sox broke through against Ring. Again, Weaver led off the inning with a double. A successful Jackson bunt single placed runners at the corners with no one out. Felsch struck out, but then Gandil broke the deadlock with a groundball single to center that scored Weaver. Risberg ended the inning by lining into a double play. Nonetheless, Kerr secured his second win of the Series with a one-two-three 10th. There was talk of sloppy fielding and sloppy baserunning – in addition to Kerr’s gaffe, Jackson was also thrown out on the bases twice – but the bottom line was the White Sox win had extended the Series to a seventh game.  

 

Game Seven

Wednesday, October 8
Redland Field, Cincinnati
“Sox Battle to Third Victory, 4-1”
Chicago Tribune
“Cicotte Keeps Sox in Series, Trimming Cincinnati 4 to 1” Cincinnati Enquirer

White Sox        101      020      000 — 4 10 1
Reds                000      001      000 — 1 7 4
WP: Eddie Cicotte (1-2). LP: Slim Sallee (1-1).
Eddie Cicotte: 9 IP, 7 H, 1 R, 1 ER, 3 BB, 4 K.
Slim Sallee: 4⅓ IP, 9 H, 4 R, 2 ER, 0 BB, 0 K.
Shano Collins: 3-5, 2B, 2 R. Eddie Collins: 2-4, R. Joe Jackson: 2-4, 2 RBI. Happy Felsch: 2-4, 2 RBI.
Heinie Groh: 1-4, 2B, R. Pat Duncan: 1-4, RBI. Ivey Wingo: 1-1, 3 BB.
Attendance: 13,923. Time: 1:47.

 

Pat Moran selected Sallee, the winning pitcher in Game Two, as the Reds took their second shot at wrapping up the Series. Kid Gleason, hoping the third time was a charm, gave the ball to Cicotte. By far the smallest crowd to date was on hand at Redland Field, in part because the Reds front office mishandled the availability of tickets. Shano Collins, playing center field, started the game with a single. He was sacrificed to second by Eddie Collins. Then, after another out, Jackson singled to left. Shano Collins scored to put the Chicagoans on top. The White Sox added a second run in the top of the third when Jackson again singled to drive in Shano Collins, this time from third base. They struck again in the top half of the fifth. After Shano Collins flied out, Eddie Collins singled to center. Weaver batted next, reaching first when Reds third baseman Groh misplayed his groundball. Yet another error on a grounder, this time by second baseman Rath, loaded the bases. Happy Felsch then singled, driving across both Eddie Collins and Weaver. Both runs were unearned.

The White Sox, behind much stronger pitching from Cicotte, held their 4-0 lead into the bottom of the sixth inning when a one-out ground-rule double to deep left by Groh and a two-out single by Duncan gave the Reds their only run of the afternoon. The final score was 4-1. Cicotte finally had a win. Sallee, who deserved better, took the loss. The Reds defense sprang a leak as they made four errors. The White Sox victory brought them to within a game of forcing the Series to its full nine games.

 

Game Eight

Thursday, October 9
Comiskey Park, Chicago
“Reds Are New World’s Champions”
Chicago Tribune
“Reds End Series With Slaughter of Sox Pitchers, Winning Baseball Classic, Five Games to Three” Cincinnati Enquirer

Reds                410      013      010 — 10 16 2
White Sox        001      000      040 — 5 10 1
WP: Hod Eller (2-0). LP: Lefty Williams (0-3).
Hod Eller: 9 IP, 10 H, 5 R, 4 ER, 1 BB, 6 K.
Lefty Williams: ⅓ IP, 4 H, 4 R, 4 ER, 0 BB, 0 K.
Edd Roush: 3-5, 2 2B, 2 R, 4 RBI. Pat Duncan: 2-4, 2B, R, 3 RBI. Bill Rariden: 2-5, SB, 2 RBI. Morrie Rath: 2-4, SB, 2 BB, R.
Joe Jackson: 2-5, 2B, HR, 2 R, 3 RBI. Eddie Collins: 3-5, 2B, SB, R. Buck Weaver: 2-5, 2B, R.
Attendance: 32,930. Time: 2:27.

 

The eighth game of the Series presented each manager with an intriguing decision for his choice of a starting pitcher. Lefty Williams seemed a logical choice for Kid Gleason, but he had not performed well in two previous starts. The third time around had worked for Cicotte; Gleason decided to give Williams a third chance, too. Pat Moran had a number of seasoned starters to choose from to try to close out the Series. He went with Hod Eller, a shutout winner in Game Five. Williams quickly made Gleason regret his decision. After retiring the first batter on an infield pop fly, he gave up four straight hits. Jake Daubert opened the parade with a single to center and Heinie Groh followed suit with a single to right. A double by Edd Roush sent Daubert home and Groh to third. Pat Duncan’s double knocked in Groh and Roush to give the Reds a 3-0 lead. Gleason pulled his left-hander and replaced him with Bill James. Williams’s effort or lack thereof became the subject of endless discussion, including speculation that he pitched to lose due to threats of violence. James walked the first batter he faced, but limited the Reds to just one more run, a two-out single by Bill Rariden that drove in Duncan.

In their half of the first, the White Sox started strong. Nemo Leibold, playing center field, opened with a single and went to third on a double by Eddie Collins. However, Eller proceeded to shut down the threat by retiring the side on a pair of strikeouts and an infield pop fly. The Reds then added another run in the second. After two were out Groh singled and scored on a double by Roush. When Roush tried to take third on the throw to the plate, he was thrown out. In the bottom of the third the White Sox broke the ice when Jackson homered to right. Any thoughts of a quick comeback were dashed, however, as the Reds scored a run in the fifth and three more in the sixth. The score in the fifth was produced by a two-out triple by Kopf and a single to left by Neale. James was still on the mound for the White Sox in the sixth, but after giving up an opening single to pitcher Eller and issuing a walk to Morrie Rath, he was replaced by Roy Wilkinson. The first batter he faced, Daubert, bunted and was safe on an errant throw to third by Ray Schalk. This loaded the bases. After Groh struck out, Roush singled home both Eller and Rath. When Duncan followed with a single to center scoring Daubert, the Reds had what would prove to be an insurmountable 9-1 lead.

The Reds scored their 10th and final run of the Series in the top of the eighth. Wilkinson hit Roush with a pitch. A sacrifice bunt by Duncan moved Roush to second, where he watched as Larry Kopf popped up and Greasy Neale walked. Roush then scored on a single by Rariden. The White Sox started out the bottom half of the eighth with a flyout. Then suddenly their bats came alive. An Eddie Collins single was followed by a pair of doubles. The first one, by Weaver, sent Collins to third. The second, by Jackson, drove home both Collins and Weaver. After Felsch popped up to the first baseman, Gandil tripled to right to score Jackson. When Risberg reached first on an error by Roush in center, Gandil scored the fourth run of the inning. The rally ended one batter later, however, when Schalk grounded to second. Entering the bottom of the ninth the White Sox trailed 10-5. Although Eller hit one batter, pinch-hitter Eddie Murphy, and gave up a single to Eddie Collins, the game and the Series were over when Jackson’s groundout to second gave Eller his second complete-game victory. The Cincinnati Reds were World Series champions for the first time in team history.

 

Series Summary

Normally once the final out of a World Series is made, the shouting quickly dies. But in the aftermath of the 1919 World Series, the shouting had just begun. Perhaps more would be written about this World Series than any other because of what would become known as the Black Sox Scandal. But just like any World Series, the on-the-field play would produce a cold, hard set of numbers. No recap would be complete without a recitation of some of the key figures.

In winning the World Series five games to three, the Reds outscored the White Sox 35-20. The Reds batted .255, while the Sox team average was .224. The Reds accumulated 17 extra-base hits, including seven triples. The White Sox followed closely with 14, equaling the Reds with their 10 doubles.

Individually for the Reds’ regulars, Greasy Neale had the highest batting average at .357. Pat Duncan and Edd Roush knocked in eight and seven runners respectively. Pitcher Hod Eller won twice, while Dutch Ruether, Slim Sallee, and Jimmy Ring were credited with one win apiece. Joe Jackson topped White Sox batters with a .375 average and six RBIs. Chick Gandil had five RBIs. Other hitters topping .300 were Buck Weaver (.324) and Ray Schalk (.304). Future Hall of Famer Eddie Collins had only one extra-base hit and batted .226. Swede Risberg garnered but two hits in 25 at-bats and hit a woeful .080. Pitcher Dickey Kerr won twice for the White Sox and Eddie Cicotte once. Perhaps fittingly, the home run hit by Joe Jackson in the third inning of Game Eight was the only home run hit in the final World Series of the Deadball Era.

RICK HUHN is the author of full-length biographies of Hall of Famers Eddie Collins and George Sisler. His most recent book, “The Chalmers Race” (University of Nebraska Press, 2014), analyzes the controversial 1910 batting race. He is a founding member and co-coordinator of the Hank Gowdy Columbus (Ohio) Chapter of SABR.

 

Sources

Information for this article was obtained from Retrosheet.org and Baseball-Reference.com.

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Jury Nullification and the Not Guilty Verdicts in the Black Sox Case https://sabr.org/journal/article/jury-nullification-and-the-not-guilty-verdicts-in-the-black-sox-case/ Tue, 03 Nov 2015 21:18:49 +0000 This article was selected as a winner of the 2016 McFarland-SABR Baseball Research Award.

 

This well-known Chicago Tribune photo of Black Sox defendants, attorneys, jurors, and supporters shows them celebrating the not guilty verdicts on the steps of the Cook County Courthouse on August 2, 1921. A number of the celebrants have numbers inscribed on their images. These are as follows: (1) Chick Gandil; (2) Weaver/Risberg/Felsch co-counsel Michael Ahern; (3) Zelcer attorney Max Luster; (4) Gandil attorney James O’Brien; (5) Swede Risberg; (6) Lefty Williams; (7) Joe Jackson; (8) Zork co-counsel Henry Berger; (9) gambler defendant Carl Zork; (10) Zelcer co-counsel J.J. Cooke; (11) Weaver/ Risberg/Felsch lead counsel Thomas Nash, and (12) Jackson/Williams attorney Benedict Short. The men in white shirtsleeves are members of the Black Sox jury. (CHICAGO TRIBUNE)

 

With a near-century now having elapsed, it is difficult to determine which event post-World War I baseball fans found more improbable: the Cincinnati Reds’ defeat of the highly touted Chicago White Sox in the 1919 World Series, or the acquittal of the Sox players accused of dumping the Series at the ensuing criminal trial. The pretrial confessions of guilt made by four of the accused—Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, Lefty Williams, and Happy Felsch—had rendered conviction a foregone conclusion to many. Thus, the not guilty verdicts rendered by the jury were unexpected, and in some quarters unfathomable.

Although much has been written about the Black Sox Scandal, until quite recently comparatively little attention has been paid to its legal proceedings. For the most part, those commenting on courtroom events have been handicapped by misapprehension of what actually went on in and about the Cook County Courthouse, and by a lack of understanding of Illinois criminal law. Often, the trial has been summed up with the assertion that the prosecution’s case foundered on the disappearance of the player confessions in the run-up to trial—an erroneous but enduring notion in Black Sox lore. In truth, the confessions of Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams were available at trial, and read at length to the jury. But to no avail. The defendants, even those who had confessed their guilt, were all acquitted.

Because the deliberations of a criminal case jury are conducted in private, and because jurors are not thereafter obliged to explain the reasoning behind their verdict, the grounds for the Black Sox acquittals are unknowable. It is, of course, possible that the prosecution failed because its proofs did not satisfy the jury of the defendants’ guilt. But that seems unlikely in the case of Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, and Lefty Williams, and arguably that of Chick Gandil, Swede Risberg, and the gambler defendant David Zelcer, as well. Against these defendants, if not the others, the government presented ample proof of guilt. It is also conceivable that the jury verdict may have been corrupted by defense-friendly outside forces. But this, too, seems unlikely, as no evidence of jury tampering has ever surfaced. This article will assay another possible basis for the not guilty verdicts, one heretofore little discussed in the Black Sox canon: jury nullification.

Jury nullification is an unpredictable but mercifully rare courthouse phenomenon. It involves the jurors’ knowing and deliberate rejection of evidence and/or their refusal to apply the law against a criminal defendant, in violation of the oath taken by all jury members at the outset of trial. This dereliction of duty may be precipitated by an overriding desire to send some kind of message to the community at large. Or because the result commanded by the evidence and the law runs contrary to the jurors’ personal sense of justice, morality, or fairness.1 Whatever its cause, prosecutors dread jury nullification and court decisions have condemned it.2 But the power of nullification exists nonetheless, and by virtue of the Double Jeopardy Clause of the Fifth Amendment, no recourse against those wrongfully acquitted is available to the government. In the writer’s view, jury nullification presents an eminently plausible explanation for the acquittal of the six most seemingly guilty defendants in the Black Sox criminal case. Argument of the point is premised on the following matters of fact and law.

A. THE UNRAVELING OF THE 1919 WORLD SERIES FIX

An exhaustive account of the Black Sox scandal is beyond the scope of this article. Suffice to say that a reasonable reading of the historical record supports the proposition that eight members of the 1919 American League pennant-winning Chicago White Sox agreed to lose the World Series against the Cincinnati Reds. In return, the players expected $100,000 payoffs from at least two separate gambler contingents. The existence of a player-gambler conspiracy is established beyond peradventure by the in- and out-of-court admissions of Sox stars Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, Lefty Williams, and Happy Felsch, as well as those of gamblers Bill Burns and Billy Maharg. Other matters—such as the duration of the conspiracy; the extent of player effort to lose Series games; the identity of some of the gambler conspirators; who exactly received payoffs, when, and for how much—remain indistinct and controversial. Whatever these particular circumstances, when the conspiracy unraveled in September 1920, at least three Series fix-related meetings were exposed: a players-only discussion at the Ansonia Hotel in New York; a subsequent parley at the Warner Hotel in Chicago between up to five corruptible players and gamblers identified as Sport Sullivan and Rachael Brown, and finally, an eve-of-Game One meeting at the Sinton Hotel in Cincinnati involving all the fix-agreeable players, save Jackson, and the gambler quartet of Bill Burns, Billy Maharg, Abe Attell, and someone called “Bennett,” later identified as Des Moines gambler David Zelcer. The record also pretty well documents that payments were later made to all of the White Sox players who agreed to the Series fix, except perhaps Buck Weaver.3

Despite rumblings about the bona fides of the Series outcome, no action was taken to investigate the matter until mid-September 1920. Then, a Cook County (Chicago) grand jury inquiry into allegations that a meaningless late-August 1920 game between the Cubs and Phillies had been fixed unexpectedly morphed into a probe of the previous fall’s World Series. Within days, complete disregard of the mandate that grand jury proceedings remain secret resulted in often-verbatim newspaper accounts of the proceedings. In short order, baseball fans nationwide were apprised that the 1919 Series had been corrupted and that eight White Sox players—Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, Lefty Williams, Chick Gandil, Swede Risberg, Happy Felsch, Fred McMullin, and Buck Weaver—were targeted for indictment on fraud-related charges.4 The lid was then completely blown off the Series scandal by fix insider Billy Maharg. In an article first published in Philadelphia and quickly reprinted in newspapers across the country, Maharg alleged that Game One, Game Two, and Game Eight had been deliberately lost by Sox players acting at gamblers’ behest.5

From there, events unfolded rapidly. On September 28, 1920, an uneasy Eddie Cicotte was summoned to the office of attorney Alfred Austrian, legal counsel for the White Sox. Confronted by Austrian and Assistant State’s Attorney Hartley Replogle, Cicotte broke down and admitted complicity in the fix of the 1919 Series. Whisked before the grand jury, Cicotte repeated his confession. But unlike the stories printed in the newspapers, the Cicotte testimony contained no admission that he had lobbed hittable pitches to Reds batsmen or committed deliberate misplays in the field. To the contrary, Cicotte admitted only accepting $10,000 to join the fix, and maintained that once he had hit Game One leadoff man Morrie Rath with a pitch, he had undergone a change of heart and tried his best thereafter to beat the Reds.6

Later in the day, this exercise repeated itself with Joe Jackson. In the Austrian office, Jackson denied attending any of the pre-Series fix meetings. Rather, he had been propositioned privately by Chick Gandil, and had agreed to join the conspiracy in return for $20,000 to be paid in installments as the Series progressed. Jackson then repeated this confession of fix complicity to the grand jury.7 As was the case with Cicotte, newspaper accounts of the Jackson testimony were grossly distorted. Before the grand jury, Joe made no admissions of deliberate poor play. Despite accepting a $5,000 fix payment after Game Four, Jackson insisted that he had done nothing to earn his money. He had played to win at all times.8

The third fix conspirator to appear before the grand jury was Lefty Williams. After interrogation and breakdown at the Austrian office on the morning of September 29, Williams recounted his own involvement in the Series fix to the grand jury. Like Cicotte and Jackson, Williams maintained that he had actually played honest ball, damning appearances like his first-inning nightmare in Game Eight notwithstanding. But unlike the other two, Lefty went further. He identified the gamblers present at the Warner Hotel (Sullivan and Brown) and Sinton Hotel (Burns, et al.) by name. He also stated for the record that the White Sox players agreeing to the Series fix were “Cicotte, Gandil, Weaver, Felsch, Risberg, McMullin, Jackson, and myself.”9 Meanwhile, Happy Felsch was unburdening himself to reporter Harry Reutlinger of the Chicago Evening American, stating that widely-published newspaper accounts of the Cicotte grand jury testimony were “true in every detail”10 Felsch added, sadly, “I’m as guilty as the rest of them. We are all in it alike.”11

The other implicated Sox players reacted indignantly to the news leaking from the grand jury. Chick Gandil, Swede Risberg, Fred McMullin, and particularly Buck Weaver publicly protested their innocence, with Weaver vowing to retain the best lawyer he could find to fight any charges.12 Those charges would not be long in coming. On October 29, 1920, the Cook County Grand Jury returned indictments charging the eight targeted White Sox players, fix intermediary Hal Chase, and gamblers Joseph (Sport) Sullivan, Rachael Brown, Bill Burns, and Abe Attell with multiple counts of conspiracy to obtain money by false pretenses and/or by means of a confidence game.

 

The Black Sox jury consisted of 12 working-class Chicago men. (CHICAGO HISTORY MUSEUM)

 

B. THE GRAND JURY DO-OVER

In November 1920, a Republican Party electoral landslide swept an entirely new administration into the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office. Upon taking office in December, these new prosecutors found the heralded Black Sox case in disarray. The investigation was incomplete, evidence was missing from the SAO vault, and the staff attorneys most familiar with the case had moved on to private law practice. Worse yet, the former prosecutors had anticipated that the defendants who had confessed before the grand jury (Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, and Lefty Williams) would turn state’s evidence and testify against their cohorts at trial. But with top-notch legal counsel now at their side, the three were standing firm with the other defendants. They were also seeking to have their confessions suppressed as evidence. Aside from unindicted co-conspirator Billy Maharg, this left the prosecution bereft of a fix insider whom it could build its case around. And employment of its crucial confession evidence was in jeopardy.

Then catastrophe struck. In February 1921, Judge William E. Dever unexpectedly denied a prosecution motion for an indefinite postponement of further proceedings and gave the Black Sox case a short trial date. With the case in no condition to move forward, State’s Attorney Robert E. Crowe unilaterally dismissed the charges. Crowe, however, coupled this stunning development with a vow to re-present the charges to a newly impaneled grand jury. True to his word, Crowe had the matter back on the grand jury docket within a week, and in late March new indictments were returned in the Black Sox case. Now, the charges included substantive fraud counts, as well as the previous conspiracy ones. In addition to the original defendants, all of whom were re-indicted, the roster of those accused was expanded to include five new gamblers: Carl Zork and Benjamin Franklin of St. Louis, and a trio of Des Moines gamblers, David “Bennett” Zelcer and the Levi brothers, Ben and Lou. By representing the matter, prosecutors had gained the breathing space needed to put their case in better order for trial. But the addition of these new defendants would come back to haunt the prosecution.

C. 1919 ILLINOIS CRIMINAL LAW

The criminal law of Illinois worked greatly to the prosecution’s advantage in the Black Sox case. The indictment’s core offense was conspiracy, an offense usually defined as an agreement between two or more persons to commit an unlawful act.13 In most jurisdictions, conspiracy charges also require an overt act, namely, action by at least one of the conspirators that takes the conspiracy past the talking stage. But not in 1919 Illinois. Under both its statutory and common law definitions of the offense, a conspiracy in that state was complete upon the mere agreement to commit the unlawful act.14 As elsewhere, moreover, conspiracy was an offense separate and distinct from the crime that was the conspiracy’s object. For example, conspiracy (agreement) to rob a bank is one crime, while the bank robbery itself is another—although conviction on the two offenses might later be combined for sentencing purposes.

In the trial of the Black Sox, this relieved the prosecution of proving that the players had actually dumped the World Series, or any particular game. Illinois law only required proof positive that the accused players and gamblers had agreed to do so. In his self-serving 1956 account of the scandal, Chick Gandil maintained that the Black Sox players had gotten cold feet and never went through with their agreement to throw Game 1 or any other Series game.15 Under Illinois law, however, this purported abandonment of the fix would have provided no defense to the conspiracy charge in the indictment. That offense was committed the moment that the players and gamblers agreed to rig the Series outcome.

A trickier task for the state was establishing that the object of the conspiracy—the fix of the 1919 World Series—was itself an unlawful act. Here, the prosecution was hamstrung by the fact that Illinois did not have a statute that criminalized the corruption of sporting events. Like other states, Illinois adopted a specific sports corruption statute in the wake of the World Series scandal, but this new law could not be applied retroactively to the Black Sox.16 This necessitated shoehorning the World Series fix charges into a conspiracy to commit some form of criminal fraud, such as obtaining money by false pretenses or via a confidence game. Ominously for the prosecution, a California court had recently rejected this gambit, dismissing an indictment returned against players and gamblers accused of fixing the 1919 pennant race in the Pacific Coast League.17 The Black Sox defense would expend considerable effort on having this ruling applied to the instant charges, but in the end trial judge Hugo M. Friend denied indictment dismissal motions, determining that application of Illinois fraud statutes to the Series fix was legally permissible.

While matters of statutory construction went the prosecution way, application of the law was not all one-sided in the Black Sox case. Of particular benefit to the accused was the prohibition of hearsay evidence at a criminal trial. Generally speaking, hearsay is testimony about out-of-court statements made by someone other than the witness on the stand.18 During grand jury proceedings, any form of evidence, including hearsay, can be utilized by prosecutors. But at a criminal trial, the rules are different. In particular, the Confrontation Clause of the Sixth Amendment guarantees the accused the right to confront and cross-examine the evidence offered against him. And obviously, inanimate objects like a grand jury transcript or a newspaper article cannot be cross-examined. To use such evidence, the prosecution must put the statement’s author on the witness stand.

In the Black Sox case, the indictments returned against the non-confessing defendants had been grounded largely on the grand jury testimony of Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, and Lefty Williams. At trial, those statements would be admissible against the individuals who had made them. But unless Cicotte, Jackson, or Williams took the stand as a prosecution witness, their grand jury testimony was hearsay and could not be used as evidence against Gandil, Weaver, or anyone else on trial. This left the prosecution in urgent need of cooperation from a fix insider who would be willing to take the witness stand and subject himself to defense cross-examination. On the eve of trial and in return for immunity, codefendant Bill Burns came to the prosecution’s rescue.

D. THE CRIMINAL TRIAL OF THE BLACK SOX CASE.

Among the problems facing the prosecution was an elementary one: getting the defendants, almost all of whom lived outside of Illinois, into court. In the end, the problem was only partially overcome. The Sox players, hoping for vindication and a return to the game, appeared voluntarily. But Fred McMullin did not arrive from California until after jury selection had begun. This necessitated a severance and deferral of McMullin’s trial to some future date. The gambler defendants were another matter entirely. Sport Sullivan and Rachael Brown could not be found by authorities; Hal Chase and Abe Attell defeated attempts to extradite them to Illinois, and Ben Franklin was excused from the proceedings on grounds of illness. Thus, the only gamblers to stand trial were Carl Zork, David Zelcer, and the Levi brothers.

The jury selection process was arduous, its length protracted by defense counsel efforts to indoctrinate prospective panel members with bias favoring the defense point of view, and prosecution attempts to gauge juror receptivity to testimony by a cooperating former defendant. Finally, a jury of 12 white men, all reportedly non-baseball fans, was chosen. The Black Sox trial then began with an extended opening address by the lead prosecutor, Second Assistant State’s Attorney George E. Gorman. In sometimes dramatic tones, Gorman delineated the Series fix roles played by both the defendants in court and absent confederates like the non-indicted Arnold Rothstein and the unavailable Abe Attell. When their turn came, defense lawyers waived opening speeches, preferring to maintain silence for the time being.

After the prosecution entered facts about the 1919 Series into the record, their star witness, Bill Burns, took the stand. Over the next three days, Burns provided a detailed account of the Series fix from his perspective, identifying defendant David Zelcer as the fix operative called “Bennett,” and deeply implicating the accused Sox players, particularly player spokesman Chick Gandil and fix henchman Swede Risberg. The only player defendant left unscathed was Joe Jackson, with whom Burns had had no direct contact. Those who had assumed that Burns would personify his Sleepy Bill nickname were in for a shock. Quick-witted and unflappable, Burns proved more than a match for sneering defense lawyers, first to the amazement and then to the delight of the Black Sox press corps. Except for some hedging on dates, his testimony was unshakeable. By the time Burns stepped down, his press reviews were glowing and prosecutors jubilant.19

Unfortunately for the prosecution, it was now obliged to pay the price of over-indicting the case. Court time and attention would now have to be devoted to Zork and the Levi brothers, the Midwestern gamblers added to the case in the superseding indictment. Here, prosecution testimony did little except make obvious the weak and amorphous nature of the proofs against these defendants. The appearance of White Sox club secretary Harry Grabiner also played into the defense’s hands. Summoned by the prosecution to clarify player contract technicalities, Grabiner later testified to the soaring fan attendance and handsome profits that the franchise had enjoyed during the 1920 season—greatly undermining the claim that the White Sox had been injured by the corruption of the 1919 World Series.20

Seeking to regain momentum, the prosecution proffered the Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams grand jury testimony.21 But before it could be read to the jury, Judge Friend had to rule on the defense’s challenge to its admissibility. With the jury excused from the courtroom, Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, and Lefty Williams testified that their grand jury confessions had been induced by off-the-record promises of leniency made by White Sox counsel Alfred Austrian and grand jury prosecutor Hartley Replogle.22 Replogle and other prosecution witnesses denied it. Finding the prosecution account of disputed events the believable one, Judge Friend determined that the grand jury confessions had been voluntarily given and could therefore be presented to the jury—but only after the confessions had been edited to eliminate reference to non-confessing codefendants. While this process, called redaction, was being undertaken back at SAO offices, Judge Charles McDonald, the presiding justice of the Cook County criminal courts, testified before the jury. According to the judge, Cicotte, Jackson, and, to a lesser extent, Williams had each admitted his fix guilt in chambers prior to their grand jury appearances.

At the conclusion of the McDonald testimony, the State returned to the player confessions. But the redaction process had deleted the explicit mention of defendants Gandil, Risberg, Felsch, and Weaver that the grand jurors had heard. Each place where one of their names appeared in the grand jury transcripts, it was replaced with the anonym Mr. Blank. When presented to the jury by means of a dialogue between Special Prosecutor Edward A. Prindiville and grand jury stenographer Walter Smith, the repeated references to Mr. Blank rendered substantial parts of the narrative unintelligible. Compounding this problem was the stifling heat in the non-air conditioned courtroom. Between the droning of the Prindiville/Smith duet and the oppressive courtroom heat, the jury may well have been anesthetized.

With its case again in need of reviving, the prosecution then summoned Billy Maharg. Like Bill Burns, Maharg provided a firsthand account of various aspects of the fix, identifying defendant Zelcer as “Bennett” and putting all the accused players, save Jackson, deeply into the plot. Like Burns, the affable and guileless Maharg cruised through cross-examination, with defense lawyers hardly laying a glove on the one-time Philadelphia club fighter.

Their case refreshed by the Maharg testimony, prosecutors then made a tactical decision to abbreviate their case. Jettisoning prospective witnesses like Browns second baseman Joe Gedeon and St. Louis gambler Joe Pesch who might have bolstered the flagging case against the Midwestern gambler defendants, the prosecution rested. In doing so, the state effectively abandoned the charges against Carl Zork and the Levi brothers. Viewed in retrospect, narrowing its focus to the case against the Sox players and David Zelcer was an unremarkable move, the kind of decision that prosecutors routinely have to make on the fly during a trial. And wrapping up the government’s case on a seeming high note was a sound stratagem, given the circumstances. But what does not make any sense is the prosecution’s failure to tighten the noose around Happy Felsch before it rested. This could have been accomplished by having Chicago Evening American reporter Harry Reutlinger inform the jury of the abject admissions of guilt that Felsch had made back in September 1920. Given that testimony by an objective, non-partisan witness like Reutlinger would have been brief, effective, and virtually unimpeachable, the prosecution’s failure to call him as a witness is a mystery.

Predictably, Judge Friend dismissed the charges against the Levi brothers for lack of proof as soon as the state’s case closed.23 With reluctance, the judge allowed the charges against Carl Zork, Happy Felsch, and Buck Weaver to survive, but warned prosecutors that any convictions returned against them were in peril of post-verdict vacation by the court. In hindsight, prosecutors may have been better off with the charges dismissed against those defendants, as well. Evidentially, the prosecution’s case against them was tenuous and likely to become a distraction during the final push to convict Cicotte, Jackson, Williams, Gandil, Risberg, and Zelcer. Moreover, the court’s ruling meant that Zork defense counsel A. Morgan Frumberg and Henry Berger, perhaps the two most effective lawyers in the Black Sox camp, would remain on the job, bedeviling prosecutors to the end.24

When it came time for the defense to take the floor, the gamblers went first. Testifying on his own behalf, David Zelcer unequivocally denied acquaintance with Bill Burns and Billy Maharg, and denied any involvement whatsoever in the plot to fix the 1919 World Series. The Zelcer claims of innocence and his semi-alibi defense, however, were both undermined by effective cross-examination by Special Prosecutor Prindiville and by prosecution rebuttal evidence. The Zork defense wisely kept its client off the stand, confining its presentation to good character evidence, and four respectable fact witnesses who eviscerated the testimony of the government’s lone witness against Zork, embittered East St. Louis theater owner/gambler Harry Redmon, a heavy betting loser on the 1919 Series.

Then it was the players’ turn. The Gandil defense preceded promised testimony from Chick with a parade of witnesses intended to make a liar of Bill Burns, but with little apparent effect. Then, with the courtroom gallery poised for Chick to take the stand, the Gandil defense rested. The other player defendants promptly rested their cases, as well. Caught off-guard by defense maneuvers, prosecutors scrambled to collect rebuttal witnesses, including Harry Reutlinger. But given that little by way of a defense case had been offered, Judge Friend barred most of the proffered rebuttal, rightly scoring prosecutors for not using Reutlinger earlier. Shortly thereafter, the proof-taking portion of the Black Sox case closed.

E. THE TRIAL ENDGAME, VERDICT, AND AFTERMATH

Speaking first to the jury, Special Prosecutor Prindiville ignored the charges against defendants Zork, Felsch, and Weaver, and took only a passing swipe at Swede Risberg. Rather, he concentrated his fire on defendants Cicotte, Jackson, Williams, Gandil, and Zelcer, harping upon how the testimony of Bill Burns and Billy Maharg, and the confessions of Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams, corroborated each other. With rhetorical flourish, Prindiville ended by calling the accused “killers. They conspired to kill baseball, our greatest sport,” and demanding that the jury return convictions with the maximum sentence: five years imprisonment and a $2,000 fine.25

Given ten hours to make their closing arguments, defense counsel went on the offensive. Berger led off with a denunciation of defense turncoat Bill Burns, while co-counsel Frumberg decried the prosecution’s failure to pursue reputed fix financier Arnold Rothstein and his agents. Thomas Nash, lead attorney for defendants Risberg, Felsch, and Weaver, portrayed the proceedings as a legal sham, no more than a vehicle for the destruction of Charles Comiskey and his Chicago franchise by American League President Ban Johnson, once a Comiskey friend but now his bitter enemy. Nash then turned the podium over to co-counsel Michael Ahern to discredit the Billy Maharg testimony. Ban Johnson resumed the role of off-stage villain in the closing remarks of Benedict Short, chief counsel for Joe Jackson and Lefty Williams. According to Short, the government had indicted White Sox players solely to placate a wrathful Johnson. Over vehement prosecution objection, he concluded with the declaration that Judge Friend, defense counsel, and the jurors were the only persons in the courtroom “not under Ban Johnson’s thumb.”26

After instruction on the law by Judge Friend, the case was given to the jury early in the evening of August 2, 1921. After deliberations of only two hours and 47 minutes and the casting of a single ballot, the panel informed court bailiffs that it had reached a decision. At 11:22PM, the first verdict was announced by the court clerk: “We, the jury, find the defendant Claude Williams—Not Guilty.” The several hundred defense supporters packing the courtroom erupted in joy. After order was restored, the verdict poll continued to the drumbeat of Not Guilty—as to all defendants on all charges. After the final acquittal was recorded, Judge Friend congratulated the jury, terming their verdict a just one. With that, all restraint in the courtroom dissolved. Eddie Cicotte ran over to shake the hand of jury foreman William Barry, while the other defendants warmly congratulated one another. Hats and papers soared through the air, with court attendants abandoning efforts to restore decorum upon noticing the smile on Judge Friend’s face. They, too, then joined in the celebrations. For the next five minutes, “the courtroom was a love feast, as the jurors, lawyers and defendants clapped each other on the back and exchanged congratulations.”27 Jurors thereupon hoisted Jackson, Williams, and several other defendants onto their shoulders and paraded them around the courtroom, before the celebrants finally gathered on the courthouse steps for a smiling group photo.28

When queried by reporters, jurors declined to comment on their verdict. They then repaired to a nearby Italian restaurant to wind down. There, by some coincidence, the Sox players whom they had just acquitted had gathered for a party. Upon discovering each other, the two groups promptly united. Juror resolve to remain silent evaporated soon after. Opening up regarding the trial, one unidentified juror related, “We thought the State presented a weak case. It was dependent on Bill Burns and Burns did not make a favorable impression on us.”29 The panel was also displeased that the trial had been allowed to take so long. “We felt from the time that the State finished that we could not return any verdict but not guilty,” the anonymous juror added.30

Juror bonding with the accused was reflected in the post-verdict sentiments of another unnamed panel member, who was quoted as telling Eddie Cicotte that “I know that every man on this jury hopes that the next time he sees you it will be at the center of the diamond putting over strikes.”31 “And we’ll be there in a box cheering for you and the rest of these boys, Eddie,” chimed in another juror.32 Continued into the early morning hours, juror/defendant revelry reportedly ended with a chorus of “Hail, Hail, The Gang’s All Here.”33

The Black Sox joy was short-lived. Even before the verdict was fully digested, Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis issued his famous edict permanently banning the acquitted players from Organized Baseball. And with that, Joe Jackson, Eddie Cicotte, Buck Weaver, and the others were consigned to the wilderness, playing out their careers in outlaw baseball.

F. JURY NULLIFICATION

As in most multi-defendant criminal matters, the proofs arrayed against the accused in the Black Sox case were uneven, strong against some defendants, weaker against others. Regarding the latter, Constitutional constraints and evidence rules had had significant effect, precluding the use at trial of incriminating evidence earlier presented to the grand jury. Critically, the bar on hearsay drained content from the grand jury confessions, and the trial jurors never got to hear Chick Gandil, Happy Felsch, Swede Risburg, Buck Weaver, and the absent Fred McMullin named as fix participants by Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, and Lefty Williams. And inexplicably, the prosecution did not move to present Happy Felsch’s self-incriminating newspaper interview until it was too late. Nevertheless, this does not satisfactorily explain the not guilty verdicts, at least those rendered upon some of the defendants. For the reasons which follow, it seems more than likely that the acquittals of Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, and Lefty Williams, and perhaps those of Chick Gandil, Swede Risberg, and David Zelcer, as well, were the product of jury nullification.

The legal dictionary definition of jury nullification has already been provided. But in essence, jury nullification substitutes emotion for reason. To disregard their solemn promise to base their verdict on the evidence presented at trial and the law as explained by the court—and nothing else—jurors must be overcome by some powerful impulse. In certain instances, jurors may form an attachment to the accused. Or become consumed by dislike of prosecution witnesses. Or lack sympathy for the crime’s victim. Whatever the basis, jury nullification is more likely to occur in highlycharged cases, like the Black Sox matter.

No arcane legal theory is needed to explain the outcome on Happy Felsch. As previously noted, he was the beneficiary of prosecution mishandling of his confession. The acquittals of Buck Weaver and Carl Zork were based on the thinness of the evidence presented against them. In Zork’s case, his very indictment [and that of the excused Ben Franklin] had been a prosecutorial misjudgment. The placement of these two Midwestern tinhorns, and the Levi brothers, too, amidst a high-priced fix purportedly underwritten by New York City underworld kingpin Arnold Rothstein made little sense and only served to complicate the scenario proposed by prosecutors to the jury.34

The prosecution proofs against reputed fix enforcer Swede Risberg were respectable enough, provided that the testimony of Bill Burns and Billy Maharg was believed, a problematic matter for prosecutors. This was because in 1921, as today, criminal case jurors tend to disdain testimony by cooperating codefendants. Indeed, juror dislike of “rats” is almost reflexive, even though such witnesses may be as sharp on the stand as Burns or as affable as Maharg.35 In a postverdict disclosure, one anonymous Black Sox juror stated that Burns had not made a “favorable impression” on the panel. That, however, does not mean that the Burns [or Maharg] testimony was not worthy of belief, particularly given that its recitation of fix events seemed to coincide with the details of the Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams confessions.

The same holds true for David Zelcer, except in his case, he was not a popular hometown ballplayer like Swede Risberg, but an admitted Sinton Hotel roommate of the sinister, if missing, Abe Attell. Zelcer, moreover, had interposed a partial alibi defense—he claimed to have been in Chicago on the date that Burns and Maharg had him in attendance at a fix meeting in New York—that seemed to backfire. Hauled back to the stand as a government rebuttal witness, hotel clerk Harold Schwind recanted his earlier pro-Zelcer testimony, rendering the alibi a nullity, at best. The consequences here were dangerous for Zelcer, as criminal case juries usually convict defendants seemingly caught in a lie.

Stronger still was the prosecution case against Chick Gandil. Manifestly, the evidence against Gandil rested largely on the testimony of Burns and Maharg. But even without them, Gandil seemed, ineffably, to be involved in the fix. And the admonition of the court against speculation notwithstanding, it would have been difficult for jurors not to conclude that Gandil was one of the Mr. Blanks mentioned in the Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams confessions. Indeed, of all the Black Sox, Gandil was the most likely Mr. Blank to have been the fix ringleader.

But the argument for jury nullification becomes most persuasive when the not guilty verdicts returned in favor of Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, and Lefty Williams are considered. Here, the evidence of guilt was so overwhelming that jury nullification appears to be the only rational explanation for their acquittal. The first and foremost indicator of jury nullification is the irreconcilability of these verdicts with Illinois conspiracy law. Remember, to convict the accused, the jury was not obliged to conclude that the Black Sox had thrown the 1919 World Series, or any particular game of it. Indeed, the law of conspiracy did not even require them to try—although there was considerable evidence introduced at trial showing that the players had tried and succeeded in dumping at least the first two Series games. As a matter of Illinois law that the jurors were duty-bound to accept and apply, conviction on the conspiracy charges required no more than proof positive that the players had agreed to the plot to fix the Series. And given the completion of the conspiracy at the moment of such agreement, the crime could not thereafter be undone by a player’s subsequent change of heart and abandonment of the plot, even if such a thing had happened.36

Regarding the question of whether the accused had entered such an agreement, the jury did not have to accept the testimony of a Bill Burns or a Billy Maharg. Or even that of the respected Judge McDonald. Conviction only required the jury to accept the word of Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, and Lefty Williams himself, as each had confessed to agreeing to the fix of the 1919 World Series in his grand jury testimony.37 And all three had admitted taking payment for the deed, besides. Once those confessions were admitted in evidence at trial, the guilt of Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams on the conspiracy charges was facially incontestable.

In attempting to explain an inexplicable verdict, one commentator has suggested that the acquittals may have been prompted by an aspect of Judge Friend’s final instructions to the jury.38 To convict on the charges, the court directed, the proofs had to show not only that the accused had agreed to fix the World Series, but that in doing so, their conscious intent had been to defraud the public and/or the other victims specified in the indictment (i.e., club owner Charles Comiskey, the White Sox corporation, fellow White Sox teammates, and Chisox bettors). But conscious intent to defraud was self-evident, as in-the-know gamblers like Sport Sullivan, Abe Attell, and Arnold Rothstein would have found it impossible to place their high-stakes bets without it—for who would have bet on the White Sox if the corruption of the Series outcome was public knowledge? Besides, post-verdict juror comments indicate that the panel had resolved to acquit the defendants as soon as the state rested its case, and well before it even heard the legal instructions of Judge Friend. In sum, the instructions-to-the-jury hypothesis is a non-starter.

In addition to providing the only comprehensible basis for the not guilty verdicts returned against at least some of the Black Sox defendants, jury nullification is betrayed in both the record and historical circumstance. Beginning with the jury selection process, defense counsel strove to have the mostly working class jury pool identify with the blue collar ballplayers. Even if their dubious disclaimers of much interest in baseball were credible, the jurors’ post-verdict comments demonstrate that they had grown fond of the player defendants as the trial progressed, and wished them well. Not likely so with the victims, particularly White Sox owner Charles Comiskey. Old and ailing, Comiskey had been baited into a blustery self-righteous outburst by defense counsel Short in the early trial going, an incident that served defense purposes nicely. From the outset, the defense had attacked Comiskey’s character, portraying him as an uncaring, skinflint owner and as a putative victim unworthy of juror sympathy. In fact, Comiskey was a decent man and a relatively generous employer. The 1919 Chicago White Sox had the second highest payroll in major league baseball, and a number of Sox players (with third baseman Weaver and pitcher Cicotte among them) were at or near the top of the pay scale for their respective positions.39 But the jury did not know this, and the imbalance between the life stations of the well-heeled Charles Comiskey and his working class ballplayers (and the Black Sox jurors) was doubtless accentuated by testimony about the handsome profits made by the Chicago club during the 1920 season. The fix of the 1919 World Series had not grievously injured its leading victim. He was doing great. Throw in defense counsels’ bristling summation argument that the accused players were also the innocent victims of some vague but malevolent scheme of American League President Ban Johnson, and all the ingredients for jury nullification were in place.

Those who acquitted the Black Sox went to their graves long ago, taking any explanation of their verdict with them. All that can be said for it is that Judge Friend, a fair-minded and able jurist, found their judgment a “just” one. And perhaps it was as to some of the defendants. But not when it came to Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, and Lefty Williams, at a minimum. Regarding those three, the verdicts were inconsistent with the mandate of Illinois law on conspiracy and the overwhelming weight of the evidence presented at trial. In the final analysis, those particular verdicts may have been nothing more than the product of an indiscriminate acquittal stampede in the jury deliberation room. Or their verdicts may have been simply irrational, and thus inexplicable. But if the question why Eddie Cicotte, Joe Jackson, and Lefty Williams beat the charges in the Black Sox case must have an answer, jury nullification is the best one that examination of the record affords.

Prior to his retirement in 2007, BILL LAMB spent more than 30 years as a state/county prosecutor in New Jersey. He is the editor of “The Inside Game,” the newsletter of SABR’s Deadball Era Committee and the author of “Black Sox in the Courtroom: The Grand Jury, Criminal Trial and Civil Litigation” (McFarland, 2013). He can be contacted via e-mail at wflamb12@yahoo.com.

 

Notes

1 See Black’s Law Dictionary, Bryan A. Garner, ed. (St. Paul: West Publishing Co., 9th ed., 2009), 936.

2 See e.g., State v. Ragland, 519 A.2d 1361, 105 N.J. 189, 208–9 (NJ Sup. Ct. 1986): “Jury nullification is the power to act against the law. … In its immediate application, it transforms the jury, the body thought to provide the ultimate assurance of fairness, into the only element of the [criminal justice] system that is permissibly arbitrary. … [Jury nullification] is a power that is absolutely inconsistent with the most important value of Western democracy, that we should live under a government of laws and not of men.”

3 Although Weaver was in attendance at each of the three pre-Series fix meetings, he denied accepting any payoff money and resolutely maintained his innocence of fix complicity. But in civil litigation later instituted by various White Sox players, fix gamblers Bill Burns and Billy Maharg placed Weaver inside Room 702 of the Sinton Hotel when a fix installment was paid after the Sox lost Game 2. For more detail, see William F. Lamb, Black Sox in the Courtroom: The Grand Jury, Criminal Trial and Civil Litigation (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland, 2013), 156–57.

4 The anticipated indictment of the eight players was first revealed in the Chicago Tribune, September 25, 1920

5 See the Philadelphia North American, September 26, 1920.

6 The transcript of Cicotte’s grand jury testimony has not survived, but portions of it are preserved in a June 1923 Cicotte deposition, read into the record of Joe Jackson’s subsequent civil suit against the White Sox. The Jackson civil suit transcript is preserved at the Chicago Baseball Museum. Compare Jackson Trial Transcript, 1274–75, 1294–95, to the Associated Press dispatch published in the Los Angeles Times, September 29, 1920, and elsewhere.

7 The transcript of Jackson’s grand jury testimony is one of the few surviving artifacts of the Black Sox criminal case. The transcript can be accessed online at http://www.1919blacksox.com/transcripts1.htm.

8 Compare Jackson Grand Jury Testimony, 14, to the bogus account published in the Los Angeles Times, September 29, 1920: “Jackson said that throughout the Series he either struck out or hit easy balls when hits would have meant runs.” In fact, Jackson posted a Series-high .375 BA and paced the Sox attack with six RBIs

9 Williams Grand Jury Testimony, 30.

10 Chicago Evening American, September 30, 1920.

11 Ibid.

12 See the Boston Globe, Chicago Evening Post, and The New York Times, September 29, 1920.

13 See Black’s Law Dictionary, 351

14 As subsequently affirmed by Illinois highest court in People v. Lloyd, 304 Ill. 23, 136 N.E. 505 (Ill. Sup Ct. 1922).

15 Chick Gandil as told to Mel Durslag, “This Is My Story of the Black Sox Series,” Sports Illustrated, September 17, 1956.

16 The Illinois sports corruption statute would not take effect until July 1, 1922

17 For a comprehensive account of PCL scandal, see Larry Gerlach, “The Bad News Bees: Salt Lake City and the 1919 Pacific Coast League Scandal,” Base Ball, A Journal of the Early Game, Vol. 6, No. 1, (Spring 2012)

18 See Black’s Law Dictionary, 7th ed., 585.

19 Typical was the review of the Los Angeles Times, July 22, 1921: “The State’s chief witness … hurled excellent ball, permitting the defense few hits in the grilling cross-examination.” For other press raves about the Burns witness stand performance, see the Chicago Tribune, July 22, 1921, and The New York Times, July 23, 1921.

20 Some years after the trial, jury foreman William Barry would tell Judge Friend that the Grabiner testimony had more effect on the jury than that of any other witness. See the Eliot Asinof papers, circa 1963 FriendAsinof interview, in the white penny notebook, Chicago History Museum.

21 Decades after the fact, ill-informed Black Sox commentators would assert that the Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams grand jury confessions had been lost and were thus unavailable when the case came to trial. But the only things lost (stolen from the SAO evidence vault) were the original transcriptions of the testimony. The theft was discovered well in advance of trial and immediately remedied by having grand jury reporters Walter Smith and Elbert Allen create new transcripts from their shorthand notes of the Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams testimony. The authenticity and accuracy of the second generation transcripts were not disputed by Black Sox defense counsel at trial.

22 Important from an historical perspective, neither Cicotte nor Jackson nor Williams maintained that what they had told the grand jury was untrue. Rather, the defense wanted the confessions thrown out on legal grounds, asserting that reneged prosecution promises of leniency rendered the confessions involuntary in the Fifth Amendment-sense, and thus inadmissible as evidence. Joe Jackson’s later claim of complete non-involvement in the Series fix was not unveiled until his April 1923 deposition for the back pay law suit that he instituted against the White Sox.

23 The Levi brothers had been targeted for prosecution by American League President Ban Johnson, the silent underwriter of much of the State’s case. But little incriminating evidence was presented at trial against Lou, and none at all against Ben. Indeed, prosecutors interposed no objection to dismissal of the charges against the Levis once the State’s case rested.

24 Later in the case, things got so hot between Frumberg and lead prosecutor George E. Gorman that the two almost came to blows. Gorman subsequently apologized and asked that his remarks about Fromberg be stricken from the record, as reported in the Chicago Herald Examiner, July 29, 1921.

25 As reported in the Boston Globe and Washington Post, July 30, 1921, and elsewhere

26 As reported in newspapers nationwide. Selected excerpts of the summations of defense counsel have been posted at http://www.law.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/blacksox.trial.summations.html.

27 Chicago Tribune, August 3, 1921.

28 Published in the Chicago Tribune, August 3, 1921.

29 As reported in the Los Angeles Times, August 3, 1921.

30 Ibid.

31 As quoted in the Los Angeles Herald Examiner, August 3, 1921.

32 Per the Des Moines Evening Tribune, August 3, 1921.

33 As reported in the Des Moines Evening Tribune and Los Angeles Herald Examiner, August 3, 1921.

34 Originally, Zork and Franklin were alleged to have instigated a fix revival attempt after the corrupted Sox players went rogue and unexpectedly won Game 3 of the Series. Discarded prosecution witnesses like Joe Gedeon and Joe Pesch would have filled in the details had prosecutors not decided to short-circuit their case during trial. Apart from the likely malice of AL President Ban Johnson, the impetus for the indictment of the Levi brothers is unknown. At trial, the prosecution proofs were embarrassingly meager, consisting of the fact that Lou Levi had been seen in the company of fix villain Abe Attell while the Series was ongoing, and that the brothers had won heavily betting on the Reds.

35 Except in organized crime cases tried in federal court [where jurors seem to give a dispensation to government use of the low-life witnesses], prosecutors will avoid using testimony by codefendants, if at all possible. The writer, a retired state/county prosecutor in New Jersey, went 24 years [from 1982 to 2006] between putting a cooperating codefendant in front of a jury.

36 In most jurisdictions, conspiracy law recognizes a principle called renunciation. Renunciation is the complete and voluntary abandonment of criminal purpose before the crime is committed, coupled with requirements that need not be specified here. Suffice it to say that renunciation has no application to the Black Sox case, as the object of the conspiracy was achieved before the 1919 Series started, and the moment that a co-conspirator like Abe Attell or Sport Sullivan placed a bet with some unsuspecting White Sox backer

37 While on the witness stand testifying in support of the back pay lawsuit that he had initiated against the White Sox, Jackson denied—more than 100 times—that he had made the statements reposed in black-andwhite in the transcript of his grand jury testimony. First astonished, then outraged, Wisconsin Circuit Court Judge John J. Gregory cited Jackson for perjury and had him incarcerated over night. Thereafter, Judge Gregory vacated the judgment awarded Jackson by the civil jury and dismissed the case. For more detail, see Lamb, 170–88.

38 See James Kirby, “The Year They Fixed the World Series,” American Bar Association Journal, February 1, 1988.

39 The longstanding notion that the Black Sox were underpaid is demolished by Bob Hoie in “1919 Baseball Salaries and the Mythically Underpaid Chicago White Sox,” Base Ball, A Journal of the Early Game, Vol. 6, No. 1 (Spring 2012); “Black Sox Salary Histories,” The Inside Game, Vol. XIII, No. 1 (February 2013), and “Black Sox Salary Histories: Part II,” The Inside Game, Vol. XIII, No. 2 (May 2013).

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Smoky Joe Wood’s Last Interview https://sabr.org/journal/article/smoky-joe-woods-last-interview/ Thu, 26 Apr 2007 03:31:44 +0000 Author’s note: I met Joe Wood in the early 1980s after I called and said I’d like to interview him. His daughter invited me over. Joe and I spent a lot of time together, often watching Red Sox games on television and comparing players from different eras. All this was before a taped interview, which took place on May 11, 1984. When he was up to it, I saw Joe a few times after that. He died in July 1985.

 

Smoky Joe Wood (LIBRARY OF CONGRESS)

FD: How did you first break into Organized Baseball?

SJW: It was an all-girls team. The National Bloomer Girls were out of Kansas City run by Logan Galbraith. We had moved to Kansas, where my brother was born, in 1887, two years before me. My father was an attorney, and I was playing on the town team when the National Bloomer Girls came through. They had three more weeks of their season and they needed a shortstop. I wasn’t the only male on their team. They offered me 20 dollars to play with them, and I thought, “My God, that’s a lot of bucks.” I told my folks and they said I could go. The sea­son ended in Wichita, and they gave me my fare home. That was my first baseball experience. Soon after my brother ran into Ducky Holmes, a former major leaguer. He told Ducky that he had a kid brother who’s a pretty good ballplayer. How about getting him a job in profes­sional ball? Ducky contacted the owner of the Cedar Rapids Club, of the Three I League, owned by Belden Hill. I signed as an infielder, for 90 dollars a month. But I never reported to Cedar Rapids, because Belden Hill wrote me and said he had too many infielders. He used to visit me during 1912, the year I won 34 games, and he used to curse his bad luck for not letting me report to him in the first place, but transferring my contract to Jay Andrews, who was managing the Hutchinson club in the Western Association. Hutchinson, Kansas, was only 116 miles from where I lived, by way of the Santa Fe railroad, so I was tickled to death. My dad took me down and in troduced me to Jay Andrews and some of the players like Skinny Horton, Flea Hardy, Turk Dunnum, and they all had sore arms. Jay Andrews came up to me and asked, “Joe, can you go in and pitch a little.” I said I’d go in, and then they never let me out. Then I was sold to Kansas City. We played against several major league clubs as they were coming up from the South from spring train­ing. In August 1907, I was sold to the Boston Red Sox. Fred Lake came down to look at me, and John R. Taylor, who was the president of the Red Sox at that time, sent me a contract for $2,400. That was 400 dollars a month for six months. Instead of going to Boston, I went back home and told Mr. Taylor he’d have to come up with more money before I’d report to Boston. When I got to Boston, I was single, and you know how women chase after ballplayers. I used to tear around quite a little, but I still pitched good ball for them. I asked for more money. Taylor, the president of the club, said, “Whenever you decide to get your feet on the ground and pitch good baseball, we’ ll give you the money.” So I went right along, from 1908 on. In 1911, I had a pretty good year. 23-17.

FD: In 1908, when you came up from Kansas City at age 18 to pitch for the Red Sox, did you room with Tris Speaker right from the start?

SJW: That was a coincidence that happened, and run into a friendship that lasted forever. When I went to the Red Sox, that was August 1908. Speaker had joined the Red Sox in 1907. They sent him to the Southern League and he led the league in hitting. He came back to the Red Sox about a week or two after I did, and it just so happened our secretary, Eddie Reilly, put Speaker and me as roommates. And we were roommates for 15 years. Even in Cleveland, where he was instrumental in bringing me there. 

FD: You had a remarkable year in 1912. Thirty-four wins, five losses. Three wins in the World Series. You were 21, at the start of a spectacular career. Then in the spring of 1913, you slipped fielding a groundball and broke your thumb.

SJW: That was the last time I ever pitched a good ball game. At the same time something happened to my shoulder. Was it because I changed my motion? I’ll never know. The same thing happened to Dizzy Dean. You do some damn thing to protect what the trouble is and that way something else develops, and that’s it. We never know.

FD: You did come back to a degree. You were 10-3 one year, then 15-5.

SJW: Well, Christ, I only pitched half a season. I couldn’t throw a ball. Couldn’t raise my arm for three weeks. We had to keep playing ball to keep our contracts. I only pitched two full seasons in the big leagues, 1911 and 1912. The rest are all half seasons. One year I had appendicitis. The next year I had a busted artery in my leg, my ankle. Had it cut out, then I had a broken toe. And that’s how it went. The last year I pitched, in 1915, I led the league in earned run average, but it was only a partial year. And that’s why it’s a problem for the Hall of Fame. I’m not interested in the Hall of Fame. I tried to get my son to not bring it up, but he wanted to do it. I told him I had no interest in it.

FD: You may not want it. But when I speak with players from your era, and with baseball historians, your name does come up.

SJW: I know that, but I just didn’t have enough consecutive full-year time. I don’t give a damn about it. I have no interest whatsoever in being in the Hall of Fame. It’s all political. There are players in there that weren’t even considered good ball players in my day. If there were any players who played in my heyday on the committee, I’d be in there. I know that. They talk about fastball pitchers. Walter Johnson said there was nobody faster than me, and that’s true. If anybody could throw faster than me, it was Walter Johnson, so he’d know. In those days we didn’t have any ways of measuring. I talked to Larry Lajoie and Honus Wagner. I pitched against them in exhibition games, because they trained in Hot Springs, same as the Red Sox. They stayed at the Easton Hotel; we stayed at the Majestic. I pitched against Lajoie, Wagner, and Cobb, and they’d give you their honest opinion. Nobody was faster than me. I keep appearing in books like The Glory of Their Times, The Ultimate Baseball Book, and The Greatest One Hundred Players of All Time. I appreciate it, but I pitched with a bad arm. Come the 1915 World Series against the Phillies, Bill Carrigan came to me and asked, “How’s your arm, Joe?” “Terrible,” I told him, “but if these fellows can’t carry you through, I’ll go in there.” That’s why I was in the cor­ner, in the bullpen, every day. It was Foster, Leonard, Shore, and Mays who pitched us through. My arm was terrible. That’s why I laid out the 1916 season, I couldn’t even raise my damned arm. Just like today, you get my left hand when we shake hands. The X-rays show there’s nothing in my right shoulder joint whatsoever. It’s bone against bone. I haven’t slept on my right side since back then, 1913. Almost 70 years ago. But that’s what happened. Nowadays, they’d probably give a shot of cortisone in there or take a rest. Whitey Ford said when he’d get a little kink in his arm, he’d take a little rest for two or three weeks. Not only that, they pitch you once every five days now. When I played, it was every fourth day. All those things go into the thoughts of what happened. l’ll never know except I pitched hard when my arm was sore. I even pitched when I was in so much pain, I had to use my left arm to get my right arm into the sleeve of my coat.

FD: You once rigged a trapeze in an attempt to rehabil­itate your arm.

SJW: That’s right. I hung one in my attic, in Pennsylvania, in the home I built in 1913, the year I got married. I couldn’t throw a ball 10 feet. I thought it might stretch my arm out. I hung from it all winter long, but it didn’t do any good. Even now, when I threw out the first ball at Fenway this spring, I threw it left-handed. Why did I hang from a trapeze all winter? The whole reason is that people who played baseball when I played baseball loved the game. They would have played for nothing. The boys who play now are just there for what they can get out of it. You take Fred Lynn. A whale of a ballplayer. Get a sore throat and he’d want to come out of the ball game. I’ve thought about him a lot. He could have been another Ty Cobb, but he didn’t have the temperament. Every damn little thing and he’d want to get out of a ball game. Not giving to his capabilities. I’ve often thought about that. Players seemed to get results from a chiropractor, in New York, named Crusius, so I went to him. I went to him all during the winter of 1915 and the spring of 1916. I worked out in the Columbia University gym all winter, and I got to the spot where I thought it was all right. I got a call from (Tris) Speaker. He had moved from Boston to Cleveland. He asked how my arm was and I told him it was all right. I thought it was. I never lied to anyone in my life. I joined the Cleveland club and it was the same damn thing. The only way I knew how to play outfield was that this was the start of the war, and all the eligible men were going into the Army. Well, a lot of for­mer major leaguers were in the minors and they were calling them back up in order to fill out the team. One day, Eddie Miller, was playing left field, and he got hit in the chest with the ball. (Laughs.) So, they put me out there and I started hitting. I knew damn well if I was going to play the outfield I’d have to hit more than I did when I pitched. I choked up on the bat and got a lot of hits and hit pretty well. Hit about .380. But I was always a family man. I’d go on a trip for three weeks, and when I’d get home, my boys didn’t know who I was. For thatreason I left baseball and eventually got to be the base­ ball coach at Yale, in 1922. I grabbed that job in a minute because I wanted to be with my family more than I wanted to be just playing baseball. I coached baseball at Yale for 20 years. And I bought this house right here, and my wife was always crazy about this house. She passed away three years ago this month. My daughter and her husband were nice enough to move in with me so I wouldn’t be alone.

FD: How has the game changed over the years?

SJW: They think winning 20 games is a hell of a stunt. When I came up in Boston and you only won 20 games, it was a bad year. Absolutely. In my day a pitcher could no more catch a ball in one hand, with the glove on, than he could fly. You very seldom saw a backhand play. You see them every day now. Gloves are huge. The ball gets lost in them. You can’t miss. They have a hard time get­ ting the ball out of the glove. I can remember when I first broke into the league, when Stuffy Mclm1is came in with the Athletics with his big glove, the first baseman’s trapper mitt. He led the league in fielding five years in a row [Ed. note: six times but only three in a row, 1920-22]. That was the first big glove I ever saw. Stuffy McInnis was one of the fellows who came up to you at the tail end of a season, when it didn’t matter, and say, “Look, it doesn’t matter to you, let me get a hit or two and I’ll get picked off or caught stealing, or some damn thing.” It wasn’t wrong; it meant a little bit more to him to have a hit or two on his batting average. He’d get picked off or slow down on his way to second base. But he never used it to his advantage, betting or anything like that. The gloves are bigger and the ball is much livelier because they want to get the crowds in, and so on. The catcher catches the ball with one hand. If they caught the ball with one hand and dropped it years ago, they would’ve been fined. Now they all catch one-handed. We never caught the ball above our heads like the fielders do now. We caught it down low, what we called the basket catch, because you caught it near your bread basket, your stomach, and that way you were ready to throw. Another way the game has changed is they have a coach for the catcher, a coach for the pitcher, a coach for hitters, and bullpen coach, a running coach, seven or eight coaches. In my day we learned from each other. We talked about the various things that happened in the games we played in. If you didn’t learn, you didn’t stay around for very long. But now, my God, the pitching coach goes out first, then if they’re going to take the pitcher out, the manager goes to the mound. The age of specialization. Sometimes I hardly recognize it as baseball.

FD: Often, one ball lasted the entire game, and it wasn’t necessarily round at the end of nine innings. Pitchers oc­casionally doctored the ball. Did you ever throw a shine ball, mud ball, or coffee ball?

SJW: Didn’t need to. A coffee ball was the same as a mud ball, getting the mud to stick on. Some of the fellows used paraffin and hid it in their trousers. Eddie Cicotte used it. We called him “Knuckles.” We called it a shine ball. Rub the ball on the paraffin on his pants. He was on the Red Sox when I come up. He got caught up in the Black Sox thing, which ended his career. I don’t know too much about that. Of course some used slippery elm to throw a spitball, Stanley Coveleski used it, which was perfectly legit. You were allowed to have one or two pitchers on the club who threw it. Al Sothoron was not supposed to throw it on Cleveland, but he did use it. Every once in a while an umpire would ask to see the ball. Instead of throwing the ball, Al Sothoron would roll the ball on the ground so it would pick up dirt. Ed Reulbach had the mud ball. Buck O’Brien on our club, he had a razor blade inside of his glove.

FD: Lets talk about players who should be in the Hall of Fame but aren’t. For example, Carl Mays had an out­standing career, but then there was the Ray Chapman incident, the only player to be killed playing major league baseball.

SJW: Carl Mays should never be in anyone’s book. I don’t know how true it was, but we heard that Mays threw at Ray Chapman intentionally. I was one of the ones that carried him off the field. Chapman was a grand person. Mays went and got the ball and threw to first base, claiming Chapman was out. We heard right after the game that Mays said he was going to get Chapman. A grand person.

FD: Which players have been overlooked by the Hall of Fame?

SJW: We had a third baseman on the Red Sox. A clutch hitter all through his career, and you never hear his name mentioned. I wouldn’t trade him for ten Frank “Home Run” Bakers. His name was Larry Gardner. A hell of a ballplayer. Loved the game. Graduated from University of Vermont with Ray Collins. He was more valuable to the team than Harry Hooper, but you won’t see that anywhere. Pepper Martin was the same way. He’d tell the catcher he was going to steal, but they seldom got him out. And Pete Reiser was a great ball player. Ran into too many walls, but he loved to play.

I can name you a lot that should’ve been forgotten and weren’t. I’ll give you one and he’ll admit to himself: Eppa Rixey. Do you know that name? He said that when they picked him [for the Hall of Fame], they must’ve gone to the bottom of the barrel. That’s right. He was never a top-notch pitcher. Tom Seaton and George Chalmers and Grover Cleveland Alexander were on his team, and they were better pitch­ers. Eppa was a hell of a fine guy, but nowhere close to Seaton and Chalmers, both forgotten. Rabbit Maranville has no business in the Hall of Fame. Neither does Ray Schalk or Frank Baker. Nine or ten home runs a year and they call him “Home Run” Baker. I know Frank Baker very well. The only time I went through the Hall of Fame, I went with Frank Baker. Had my picture taken with him. My God, so many players in there that weren’t even considered good when they played. You never know how good a player is until you’re on the same club together. You take Sam Rice. A fine fellow and a good player with Washington. When he got into the Hall of Fame, he said, “If you want to know who should be in the Hall of Fame, I can name them for you. Honus Wagner, Larry Lajoie, Tris Speaker, and Ty Cobb.” He said there are six or eight of those and that’s it. The rest of us, it’s a different thing. That’s the way he described it. Sam Rice said, “Other fellows got in there that shouldn’t be in there. And I ques­tion whether I should be in.” And Sam Rice was right.

FD: Do you think Shoeless Joe Jackson should be in the Hall of Fame?

SJW: Well, I don’t think he’ll get in unless they exoner­ate him of all liability in that scandal. He had the reputation and all, and. this is only hearsay, that he could not read or write. I know this. Another thing that was told to me that Joe and his roommate would go out for meals. Whatever his roommate ordered, Joe would say, “Bring me the same,” because he couldn’t read the menu. But I don’t think Joe Jackson would honestly throw anything. No, no. The ringleader was Chick Gandil. Abe Attell, the prize fighter, was the middleman, so they say. Joe Jackson hit .375 in that series, and he hit the only home run. And he didn’t make any errors, so I don’t know. You know, we ballplayers used to talk together, and I remember those who played with him considered him the greatest natural hitter there ever was. And that was amongst the players who knew him! About him teaching Babe Ruth how to hold a bat and swing, I don’t think there’s a bit of truth to that. And remember, I played against both of them, and Ruth was a teammate of mine with the Boston Red Sox when he came up. Babe Ruth was an absolute natural, like Joe Jackson. Eddie Cicotte, Charlie Hall, Ruth, Eddie Carter, and I used to go out at noon to pitch batting practice to each other, because, in those days we had to hit. And we had some damn good-hitting pitchers. I think Walter Johnson hit better than .250 for his career, and could hit home runs, even with that dead ball. And you know about Babe Ruth.

FD: Who was the toughest hitter you faced?

SJW: Oh, hell, most all of them. One fellow from St. Louis was as good as I ever pitched to. Some days I can remember his name, some days I can’t. Pete somebody, I think it was. Sam Crawford of the Detroit club hit me a hell of a lot harder …. Eddie Collins used to hit me hard. What the hell was his name. Pete somebody. St. Louis Browns. I know you never heard of him [Pete Compton]. He could hit me. Jesus. I couldn’t get a ball by him.

FD: What about your own career?

SJW: I was 115 [now credited with 117 wins], wins and 57 losses, better than two out of three games. And my lifetime ERA was 2.03, just behind Ed Walsh and Addie Joss, third on the all-time list. And one year I hit .366 with Cleveland, a lifetime batting average of .298 [Ed. note: .283]. Not too bad for a man who couldn’t lift his arm. And they list me as the Red Sox’s greatest pitcher, and that includes Cy Young, who had some great years in Boston. And that’s the gospel truth. Just like I used to tell my kids when they were growing up. “Always tell the truth and you don’t have to remember what you said.” I can go over my career till my dying day and come up with the same figures. All I know is that there was no one faster than me. But I don’t care about it. I had my day and it’s over, and that’s it.

FRANZ DOUSKEY has published in The New Yorker, The Nation, Rolling Stone, Yankee, Down East, SCD, Baseball Diamonds (Doubleday & Company), and dozens of other publications. He has taught at Yale University, lectured at the Harvard Graduate School and is President Emeritus of IMPAC University.

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From Kralick to Lopez and Carew to Polanco: Interesting Aspects of the Pitcher’s Cycles and Batter’s Cycles Achieved by Minnesota Twins Players https://sabr.org/journal/article/from-kralick-to-lopez-and-carew-to-polanco-interesting-aspects-of-the-pitchers-cycles-and-batters-cycles-achieved-by-minnesota-twins-players/ Thu, 22 Aug 2024 05:14:23 +0000 Jack Kralick

Few single-game achievements are as highly-regarded as the cycle: “A single, double, triple, and home run (not necessarily in that order) hit by a player in the same game.”1 Since 1876, there have been 344 documented regular-season cycles in the history of major league baseball (excluding the Negro Leagues).2 Table 1 breaks down the players who achieved a cycle by the positions they played to start that particular game. What stands out is that not even one pitcher has ever hit for the cycle.3

Table 1. Distribution of Cycles by Starting Field Position

It is important to point out that since 1973 in the American League and 2022 in the National League, pitchers have rarely batted thanks to the designated hitter rule (with the notable exception of the exceptional Shohei Ohtani). Thus, achieving a cycle is a feat limited to batters, and the baseball cycle has become a de facto “Batter’s Cycle” (BC). What about pitchers? What is (or what would/could/should be) a “Pitcher’s Cycle” (PC)?

The three primary objectives of the research described in this article are:

  1. Devise a viable definition for a Pitcher’s Cycle.
  2. Compile a list of all the Twins players who achieved a Pitcher’s Cycle.
  3. Highlight the interesting aspects of the PCs and BCs accomplished by Twins players.

After checking the definition of the word ‘cycle’ in the dictionary, I devised the following definition for a Pitcher’s Cycle: At least one batter in each of the nine spots in the batting order struck out by the same player in the same game (not necessarily in order).4 Considering the primary objectives for batters and pitchers, this definition is equivalent to the Batter’s Cycle.

The primary objective of the batter is to reach base, an individual accomplishment that can be achieved by getting a safe hit, of which there are four types. The primary objective of the pitcher is to prevent the batter from getting on base—that is, to retire the batter—which can be accomplished individually by striking out the batter, who occupies one of the nine positions in the batting order.5

With a viable definition of a Pitcher’s Cycle in place, the next order of business was to ascertain the Minnesota Twins players who accomplished the feat, since the AL’s original Washington (DC) Senators franchise relocated to Minnesota after the end of the 1960 campaign.

RESEARCH PROCEDURE

Since a player needs a minimum of nine strikeouts to accomplish the Pitcher’s Cycle, the starting point was to generate a list of pitchers who amassed at least nine strikeouts in a game. This task is perfect for Baseball Reference’s Stathead search engine. I queried for Minnesota Twins pitchers with nine or more strikeouts in a game from 1961 through 2023, and learned that Twins pitchers fanned at least nine batters 482 times. I then examined the box scores and play-by-play accounts to ascertain which of these players accomplished the PC.

To find the Twins who achieved the Batter’s Cycle, I used the team-by-team list of cycles provided on MLB.com.6 For each Twin with a PC or a BC, I examined the game accounts in the relevant newspapers.

RESULTS

According to my research, there have been 17 Pitcher’s Cycles achieved by nine different Minnesota Twins players. Table 2 provides the basic information for each of the Twins PCs. Eleven Twins have hit for the cycle once each. Table 3 provides the fundamental information for each of them. For the remainder of this article the interesting aspects for selected PCs and BCs are highlighted.

Tables 2 and 3

1962: On August 3 at Tiger Stadium, Jack Kralick became the first Twins player to achieve a PC. With a 7–4 lead going into the bottom of the ninth, Kralick had given up just three hits, although two of them were homers—a three-run blast by Steve Boros in the second and a solo shot by Bubba Morton in the sixth. While Kralick had struck out nine Tigers, he still needed K’s in the fourth lineup slot (Rocky Colavito) and sixth (Boros) to achieve the feat of striking out every batter in the starting lineup (the simplest type of the PC). Colavito was the leadoff batter in the ninth, and Kralick struck him out looking. Then, after Norm Cash grounded out, Kralick atoned for Boros’s homer by striking him out—simultaneously ending the game and walking off with the PC. However, Kralick’s feat received no attention in the press, which instead expounded on the prodigious home run that Harmon Killebrew hit off Jim Bunning in the fourth inning, an alleged 530-foot drive over the left field roof.7 The only Washington Nationals player to have accomplished a PC was Walter Johnson, who performed the feat twice (1910, 1913).

Rod Carew

1970: In the team’s 10th season, Rod Carew became the first Twin to achieve the BC. On May 20 in Kansas City, the Minnesota second sacker singled in his first at-bat and homered in his second, tying the score, 1–1. In his third at-bat he doubled. His first opportunity to complete the cycle came in the sixth, but he grounded out to the second baseman. He was successful in his next chance, belting an RBI-triple to center field in the eighth and increasing the Twins lead over the Royals to 7–4. Asked how he felt about hitting for the cycle after the game, Carew responded, “Lots of luck. That’s it, lots of luck.” He also added, “Maybe I’ll get a bonus. Do you think?”8 Prior to becoming the Twins, the Washington Nationals had four players who hit for the cycle—Otis Clymer (1908), Goose Goslin (1924), Joe Cronin (1929) and Mickey Vernon (1946).

1972: The second Twins player to accomplish a BC was Cesar Tovar. It was dramatic. Facing the visiting Texas Rangers on September 19, Tovar led off the first inning by legging out a triple to center field. He then scored on a single by Steve Braun, staking the Twins to a 1–0 lead. He grounded out (1–3) to lead off the third, then singled in the fifth and doubled in the seventh. Each of his three hits was off KC’s starting pitcher, Dick Bosman. Facing Paul Lindblad in the bottom of the ninth, with the score knotted, 3–3, Tovar stepped into the batter’s box with a runner on and two down. He drove the ball into the left field seats for a walk-off homer that simultaneously earned him the Batter’s Cycle and the Twins the victory. When asked about his performance after the game, Tovar responded with a question, “What is this cycle thing? Single, double, triple, home run—the cycle?” He then added, “No, I no think I ever hit for the cycle, not even in Venezuelan winter baseball.”9 Interviewed before the game, Tovar had said, “He’s gonna trade me. I know it. But I show Mr. Griffith I can still play. I show him. I show him everything.”10 With his Batter’s Cycle and walk-off homer, Tovar certainly did.

Bert Blyleven

1974: Bert Blyleven collected his fourth and final Pitcher’s Cycle on September 21 in a game at Metropolitan Stadium against the visiting California Angels. He K’d Joe Lahoud looking, in the ninth to complete the PC. With temperatures in the low 40s for the 10:30AM game (played at that time as a courtesy to the University of Minnesota Gophers, who had a football game that afternoon at nearby Memorial Stadium), Blyleven used a heating pad between innings to keep his pitching arm from stiffening up. The right hander commented, “I’d prefer to be awake before I start pitching. But the cold air does clear your head pretty fast.”11 With his fourth PC, Blyleven equaled the AL record for PCs established by Sam McDowell in 1967. His time at the pinnacle was relatively brief, as Nolan Ryan picked up his fourth and fifth junior circuit PCs in 1976.

2007: Johan Santana equaled Blyleven’s record for most PCs by a Twins player on August 19 in a game against the Texas Rangers. In achieving his fourth PC, Santana struck out 17 batters, establishing a new Twins single-game record, eclipsing the previous mark of 15 shared by Camilo Pascual (1961), Joe Decker (1973), Jerry Koosman (1980), and Blyleven (1986). Santana struck out the side in the eighth inning, his final frame after 112 pitches. “I felt good, but at the same time we felt that [Joe] Nathan would be the right guy to go back out there and shut everything out,” said Santana. “He’s one of the best closers in the game and I trust him.” Santana’s previous high was 14 strikeouts, and as the scoreboard noted each of the new marks he was setting, the crowd’s cheering increased. After the game Santana said, “That was really good, especially the way everything ended up. We won by one run [1–0], and 17 strikeouts is always good. But to see all the fans getting into it, that’s pretty special.” Santana also added, “It’s a great accomplishment. It’s always good to do something like that, but I’m going to keep doing what I do and hopefully somebody in the future will break it too.”12

2008: Carlos Gomez began his Batter’s Cycle with a leadoff home run on a 1–1 pitch from Mark Buehrle on May 7 against the White Sox. The Chicago hurler atoned for the homer by whiffing Gomez in their follow-up encounter in the third. Gomez came out on top in their next matchup, belting an RBI-triple in the fifth to push Minnesota’s lead to 2–0. Then, in the very next inning, Gomez knocked Buehrle out of the box with an RBI double, boosting the lead to 7–0. His next trip to the plate came in the ninth. Swinging at the first pitch, Gomez bounced a single off pitcher Ehren Wassermann’s glove to complete the first Batter’s Cycle by a Twins player in 22 years After the game Gomez said, “You know, it’s amazing. Kirby Puckett— I’ve seen the video. He’s a good player. He’s an All-Star, and I can’t explain to you to be the first since Puckett to hit for the cycle. That’s unbelievable.”13

2009: Jason Kubel hit the jackpot with his Batter’s Cycle on April 17 in a game against the visiting Los Angeles Angels. Batting clean-up, Kobel performed reasonably well in his first three trips to the plate. His first-inning double knocked in a run, giving Minnesota a 1–0 lead. He singled in the third, but was cut down at the plate when he tried to score from first on Michael Cuddyer’s two-out two-bagger. In the sixth, he tripled and tied the game, 3–3, when he came around to score. In his fourth at-bat, in the seventh, he struck out swinging. The Angels, after having scored five runs in the seventh, tacked on an insurance run in the top of the eighth for a 9–5 advantage. The Twins staged a rally in the bottom of the frame; three runs were in, runners were on second and third, with one out. The Angels brought in a new pitcher, Jason Bulger, who fanned Brendan Harris, bringing up Justin Morneau. What transpired next is succinctly reported by the Associated Press—“Jason Bulger intentionally walked Justin Morneau to load the bases, a move that will fire any batter up. But Kubel stayed calm and let a curve ball go by for strike one. The next one was right where he wanted it, and it landed in the upper deck.”14 Kubel’s grand slam not only gave him the Batter’s Cycle, it propelled the Twins into an 11–9 lead, which Minnesota closer Joe Nathan converted to a victory with a one-two-three top of the ninth. After the game, Kubel commented about the choice to walk another batter in order to get to him: “It used to really fire me up, and I used to get myself out. So, I just stayed calm and just knew what the circumstances were and just went from there.”15

2019: Jorge Polanco swung from both sides of the plate and went 5-for-5 to collect the most recent Batter’s Cycle by a Twins player. Facing the Phillies on April 5, Polanco tripled in the first, singled in the third, and homered in the fifth batting left-handed. Then, batting right-handed, he doubled in the seventh, and singled in the ninth batting left-handed. Asked about his cycle after the game, Polanco said through an interpreter, “That’s cool, man. I feel very grateful…for that opportunity they’re giving me. They want my cleats in Cooperstown. That’s a pretty cool thing.”16

2023: Pablo López achieved the most-recent Pitcher’s Cycle for the Twins: a gem against the visiting Mets on September 10. Through eight innings, the Minnesota righty had struck out 14 batters, walked none, and allowed just two hits, but neither team had been able to cross the plate. So, as López had thrown 106 pitches (73 strikes), Twins manager Rocco Baldelli decided to turn the game over to the bullpen. New York put across a couple runs in the top of the ninth while the Twins were blanked in their half. Nonetheless, López earned the PC, and since he’d entered the game with 199 strikeouts on the season, he reached another milestone. After the game he said, “It feels really good. I think for starters, when you think 200 innings, 200 strikeouts, that’s one of the main goals every starter has going into the season.”17

CONCLUDING REMARKS

This research unearthed even more interesting items. Like Kralick, Dave Boswell achieved a PC with a game-ending walk-off strikeout. Dave Goltz holds the team record for most innings to complete his PC, with 9⅓, while Joe Ryan completed his 2023 PC in a record 3⅓. Like Tovar and Kubel, Larry Hisle homered to complete his BC. Finally, Table 4 shows the rankings of the 20 franchises that have been operating since 1961/1962. The Twins are tied for seventh in Pitcher’s Cycles and tied for first in Batter’s Cycles.

Table 4. Franchise Ranks in Pitcher’s Cycles

HERM KRABBENHOFT, a retired organic chemist, has been a SABR member since 1981. Among the various baseball research topics he has pioneered are: Ultimate Grand Slam Homers, Consecutive Games On Base Safely (CGOBS) Streaks, Quasi-Cycles, Imperfect Perfectos, Minor League Day-In/Day-Out Double-Duty Diamondeers, and Downtown Golden Sombreros. Herm is the author of Leadoff Batters of Major League Baseball (McFarland, 2001). He has received three SABR Baseball Research Awards (1992,1996, 2013). He is a lifetime Detroit Tigers fan—Zeb Eaton hit a pinch-hit grand slam on the day Herm was born.

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

With grateful appreciation, I heartily thank all those who have contributed to Retrosheet and Baseball Reference, thereby making their websites indispensable baseball-research enablers. I especially thank John Rickert for graciously writing a computer program using the Retrosheet database to generate a comprehensive list of all players who achieved a Pitcher’s Cycle during the 1901–2023 seasons, thereby ensuring that all possible PCs were identified. I also gratefully thank Jonathan Frankel for providing me with some of his superb strikeout research. And thanks to Pete Palmer, Jeff Robbins, Gary Stone, and Patrick Todgham for very helpful discussions.

 

NOTES

1 Paul Dickson, The Dickson Baseball Dictionary, (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2009), 237.

2 “Hit for the Cycle: Every MLB Player Who Hit for the Cycle,” baseball-almanac.com, https://www.baseball-almanac.com/hitting/Major_League_Baseball_Players_to_hit_for_the_cycle.shtml, accessed October 3, 2023; “Cycles Chronologically,” retrosheet.org, https://www.retrosheet.org/cycles_chron.htm, accessed October 3, 2023.

3 Jimmy Ryan of the White Stockings completed his July 28, 1888, cycle as a pitcher after having started the game as Chicago’s center fielder; see: “Home Runs All Around,” Chicago Tribune, July 29, 1888, 14; “They Hit the Ball Hard,” The (Chicago) Inter Ocean, July 29, 1888, 2; “Sluggers Outslugged,” Detroit Free Press, July 29, 1888, 4; “Was Waterloo Thus?,” Detroit News, July 29, 1888, 8.

4 “Dictionary Definitions from Oxford Languages,” https://www.google.com/search?q=cycle+meaning&rlz=1C5CHFA_enUS971US972&oq=cycle&aqs=chrome.1.69i59j35i39i650j69i59l2j0i131i433i457i512j0i402i650j46i175i199i512j0i433i512j46i175i199i512l2.2605691715j0j15&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8&bshm=rime/1, accessed “October 3, 2023.

5 It is appreciated that the pitcher’s battery mate, his catcher, must hold on to the third strike to actually retire the batter. But, even if the catcher drops the third strike and the batter reaches first base, the pitcher is still officially credited with a strikeout. It is emphasized that the Pitcher’s Cycle requires that nine different batters be struck out—at least one from each of the nine batting slots. It is pointed out that while the Pitcher’s Cycle does require a player to pitch at least 3 innings, it does not require the player to be a starting pitcher. Moreover, just like there is no limit to the number of at bats (plate appearances) it takes a player to achieve the Batter’s Cycle, there is no limit to the number of innings it takes a player to achieve the Pitcher’s Cycle.

6 Ed Eagle, “Players who have hit for the cycle,” MLB.com, August 28, 2023, https://www.mlb.com/news/players-who-hit-for-the-cycle-c265552018, accessed November 4, 2023.

7 “Killebrew’s Record Homer Aids Soaring Twins,” Minneapolis Star, August 4, 1962, 1; Joe Falls, “‘Killer’ 1st to Hit One All Way Out in Left,” Detroit Free Press, August 4, 1962, B1; “Killer Clears Detroit’s Roof With Mighty 530-Foot Shot,” The Sporting News, August 18, 1962, 10.

8 “Royals’ Metro in Awe as Carew Keeps Hitting,” Saint Cloud (Minnesota) Daily Times, May 21, 1970, 29; Tom Briere, “Twins Win 7th Straight,” (Minneapolis) Star-Tribune, May 21, 1970, 31.

9 Tom Briere, “Tovar Homer Wins for Twins,” (Minneapolis) Tribune, September 20, 1972, 1C.

10 Dan Stoneking, “Tovar’s cycle ‘shows Mr. Griffith,’” Minneapolis Star, September 20, 1972, 1.

11 Larry Batson, “Blyleven and hot Twins cool California 8-1,” (Minneapolis) Star-Tribune, September 22, 1974, C1.

12 Joe Christensen, “One Very Special ‘K’ Day,” (Minneapolis) Star-Tribune, August 20, 2007, C1; Richard Durrett, “Santana wows Texas with 17 Strikeouts,” Times Record News (Wichita Falls, Texas), August 20, 2007, D1.

13 Joe Christensen, “Twins’ Gomez goes for cycle” (Minneapolis) Star-Tribune, May 8, 2008, C1; “Gomez Singes Sox for Cycle,” Saint Cloud (Minnesota) Times, May 9, 2008, 1D.

14 Dave Campbell, “Kubel’s cycle powers Twins,” Saint Cloud (Minnesota) Times, April 18, 2009, 1D.

15 Dave Campbell, 2009.

16 La Velle E. Neall III, “One rose among the thorns,” (Minneapolis) Star-Tribune, April 6, 2019, C3.

17 Tyler Mason, “Stewart hits 2-run double in 9th, Mets beat Twins 2–0 despite 14 Ks by Lopez,” Associated Press, September 10, 2023, https://apnews.com/article/mets-twins-lopez-stewart-ecad4d5f98f50d8a3af66f1f05f1b495, accessed November 03, 2023.

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