BATTER UP!

[2jakes]

Behold the remarkable Herman "Germany" Schaefer --one of baseball's great screwballs, and the only man ever to steal first base in a major league game.

It happened on August 4, 1911 at National Park in Washington. Schaefer, playing for the Senators in a game against Chicago, had just stolen second base, with teammate Clyde "Deerfoot" Milan on third. On the next pitch, Schaefer, seemingly inexplicably, raced back to first. Confusion reigned on the field over the legality of the move, and White Sox manager Hugh Duffy ran out onto the field to discuss just what the hell was going on with umpire Tommy Connolly. In the heat of the moment, Connolly forgot to call time -- and that was all the incentive Schaefer needed to go steaming back to second, drawing a throw to second base. This time, Milan figured out what was going on, and took his cue and headed for home, but the White Sox were one step ahead of him and he was thrown out at the plate to end the game. Connolly finally had to acknowledge that there was, at that time, nothing in the rule book to prevent a runner from going back to a base he'd previously occupied -- but now there is, thanks to the actions that day of Herman "Germany" Schaefer.

Great stories.
Lizzie, where are you tapping to get such wonderful moments from way back?
I’m loving them.
Thank you!

 

[LizzieMaine]

Every baseball fan should have read Lawrence Ritter's "The Glory Of Their Times," a collection of interviews done in the 1960s with baseball players of the early 20th Century. One of baseball's great works of history, and pretty fine literature to boot.

One of the players he interviews is Smoky Joe Wood, who won 34 games with the 1912 Red Sox. I saw Smoky Joe throw his last pitch at Fenway Park in 1984, when he inaugurated the festivities for the team's Old Timers Game, and was mind-boggled at the thought that this spindly old man was the same person who had outpitched Walter Johnson and Christy Mathewson.

 

[2jakes]

I had forgotten about that book and how much I enjoyed it.

This is the cover on the one I bought at a used book store way back in
the ‘70s.

I have it somewhere in the “weight-room”.
That’s the room where I was going to set up the weights and
do my physical work-outs.
At least that was the idea. Right now I can hardly open the door
with so much stuff in there!

But like Fibber McGee...”one of these days ...."

 

[HudsonHawk]

In addition, there seems to have been a pro-active effort to move kids from baseball to soccer. Clearly, there is a cost advantage - but the country, overall, became richer not poorer over this period - so something else had to be driving it.

Growing up (I'm the same age as you are), from playing pick up games - as you note - to school and community efforts (Little League was almost a community religion), most were centered on baseball with soccer an afterthought. Now, there are almost no pick-up games as all activities are structured, but for those, soccer seems to dominate.

How did this happen? Who made this decision? Why did "they" decide to switch?

I don't know...I've been hearing this for over 40 years..."baseball is dead...in 10 years, soccer will be king". Let's fact it though, the soccer "boom" begins about the age of four and ends about the age of 9.

 

[HudsonHawk]

Jimmie Foxx might have been the physically strongest man ever to play baseball. He wasn't any kind of a bodybuilder, but he worked on his family's farm in the off season tossing hay bales into a loft -- by hand.

Koufax was a hard thrower, but Walter Johnson may have thrown even harder. He had a whip-like semi-sidearm delivery that lashed the ball forward with such force that it whistled as it passed the hitter. Consider stepping into the batters' box against Walter Johnson in 1912, with no protective gear of any kind, and you'll get a sense of how courageous old-time ballplayers had to be.

Another very hard thrower you don't hear much about anymore was Ryne Duren, who came up as a pitcher with the Yankees in the late fifties, was palmed off on the Kansas City Athletics, and ended up with the Los Angeles Angels. No matter what uniform he wore, he wore it with a pair of very dark, very thick glasses -- he had very poor vision, and very poor control, and his favorite way of intimidating batters was to throw his first warmup pitch at extremely high speed over the catcher's head into the seats behind home plate.

But the consensus for the hardest-throwing pitcher ever to compete professionally is a minor-leaguer named Steve Dalkowski, who had Johnson's speed coupled with Duren's control. He terrorized several Class D, C, B, and A leagues while moving thru the Baltimore Orioles farm system in the early sixties. He was also a prodigious drinker and, to be charitable, was said to be Not Very Intelligent. This combination would have been too much in most cases, but Dalkowski was so fast -- generally believed to have been in the range of 110mph -- that the Orioles stuck with him, trying to teach him to pitch. He finally seemed to be getting it all lined up, and made the Orioles at Spring Training in 1963, only to pop his elbow in an exhibition game, and was never the same. He fell back into the minors, was released, and began drinking so heavily that he suffered permanent brain damage. He never played a regular-season game in a major league uniform.

And on top of all that, he couldn't see, either.

There was a documentary put out in the last year or so called Fastball, which chronicles such things. They discussed Johnson, Feller, Koufax, Ryan and yes, even Dalkowski. They showed how pitch speeds were measured over the years, from military ballistics machines to Feller "racing" the motorcycle to the modern standardized radar. At the end of the day, they had some eggheads do some ciphering and determined that Nolan Ryan still threw the hardest of any Major Leaguer. But it was pretty close.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Doug Griffin would agree with that. He was a Red Sox second baseman of the early '70s who was nearly killed by a Ryan pitch to the head in 1974 -- knocked him out cold, gave him a severe concussion, and put him on the disabled list for the next month and a half. The next time he faced Ryan he got two hits against him. One of my favorite players -- he was made of wire.

 

[HudsonHawk]

Behold the remarkable Herman "Germany" Schaefer --one of baseball's great screwballs, and the only man ever to steal first base in a major league game.

It happened on August 4, 1911 at National Park in Washington. Schaefer, playing for the Senators in a game against Chicago, had just stolen second base, with teammate Clyde "Deerfoot" Milan on third. On the next pitch, Schaefer, seemingly inexplicably, raced back to first. Confusion reigned on the field over the legality of the move, and White Sox manager Hugh Duffy ran out onto the field to discuss just what the hell was going on with umpire Tommy Connolly. In the heat of the moment, Connolly forgot to call time -- and that was all the incentive Schaefer needed to go steaming back to second, drawing a throw to second base. This time, Milan figured out what was going on, and took his cue and headed for home, but the White Sox were one step ahead of him and he was thrown out at the plate to end the game. Connolly finally had to acknowledge that there was, at that time, nothing in the rule book to prevent a runner from going back to a base he'd previously occupied -- but now there is, thanks to the actions that day of Herman "Germany" Schaefer.

From the "just when you thought you'd seen it all" department involving stealing 1B...there was a play a few years ago involving Jean Segura of the Milwaukee Brewers. Segura was on 1B and stole 2B. Ryan Braun then walked to put two runners on. Segura was picked off of 2B, and got in a rundown between 2B and 3B, while Braun advanced to 2B. Segura was chased back to 2B and there stood both Segura and Braun. The Cubs fielder tagged them both, and Segura thought he was out and started jogging back to the 1B dugout. But the rules say that when two runners occupy a base, the runner who occupied the base on the pitch is entitled to it, so it was Braun who was out at 2B, not Segura. Segura then landed safely back at 1B, where he started two batters prior. Segura was then thrown out trying to steal 2B for the second time in the inning.

 

[HudsonHawk]

Doug Griffin would agree with that. He was a Red Sox second baseman of the early '70s who was nearly killed by a Ryan pitch to the head in 1974 -- knocked him out cold, gave him a severe concussion, and put him on the disabled list for the next month and a half. The next time he faced Ryan he got two hits against him. One of my favorite players -- he was made of wire.

Speaking of baseball cards...one of my favorite aspects of those over the years is that the photographs were typically taken during Spring Training. Hence you get all sorts of goofy things happening, like the equipment on the ground behind Griffin, or right handed hitters posing lefthanded. One of the more infamous ones involves Billy Ripken of the Orioles. It's not fit for print in a family publication, but one can Google it, if desired.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Oh yes. And then there's this one.

We love you too, Billy.

 

[2jakes]

"It’s a bird...it’s a plane...no, it’s...

'Old Hoss’ Radbourne (1887)

 

[belfastboy]

There was a documentary put out in the last year or so called Fastball, which chronicles such things. They discussed Johnson, Feller, Koufax, Ryan and yes, even Dalkowski. They showed how pitch speeds were measured over the years, from military ballistics machines to Feller "racing" the motorcycle to the modern standardized radar. At the end of the day, they had some eggheads do some ciphering and determined that Nolan Ryan still threw the hardest of any Major Leaguer. But it was pretty close.

That was a very entertaining doc.

 

[belfastboy]

From the "just when you thought you'd seen it all" department involving stealing 1B...there was a play a few years ago involving Jean Segura of the Milwaukee Brewers. Segura was on 1B and stole 2B. Ryan Braun then walked to put two runners on. Segura was picked off of 2B, and got in a rundown between 2B and 3B, while Braun advanced to 2B. Segura was chased back to 2B and there stood both Segura and Braun. The Cubs fielder tagged them both, and Segura thought he was out and started jogging back to the 1B dugout. But the rules say that when two runners occupy a base, the runner who occupied the base on the pitch is entitled to it, so it was Braun who was out at 2B, not Segura. Segura then landed safely back at 1B, where he started two batters prior. Segura was then thrown out trying to steal 2B for the second time in the inning.

I umpired baseball for many many years and it was usually in the young kids game's that weird shit would happen to challenge my knowledge of the rules. On the upside when such things happened, it I was unsure, I just needed to make the ruling in as authoriatative manner as I could muster. At that level, with Dads as the coaches, no one else knew the rules either and I could get away with making shit up as I went along.

 

[Harp]

There was a documentary put out in the last year or so called Fastball, which chronicles such things. They discussed Johnson, Feller, Koufax, Ryan and yes, even Dalkowski. They showed how pitch speeds were measured over the years, from military ballistics machines to Feller "racing" the motorcycle to the modern standardized radar...

Bob Feller penned a fine baseball memoir, Diamond Wisdom from the Mound. Feller was unfairly tagged a bigot by Jackie Robinson
for offering a pitcher's frank batting evaluation but he helped integrate the game by bringing in Satchel Paige, and led the player's union securing televised revenue sharing.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Feller was very much a militant when it came to the Players Association. Here he is being interviewed by Mike Wallace in 1957, just after his retirement, and he has some pretty fiery things to say about how the game was governed.

Feller and Robinson disliked each other on a personal level -- Robinson never forgave or forgot the "football shoulders" remark, and the two got into a very loud argument at an Old Timers' gathering in 1969 over the question of the lack of African-American coaches, managers, and exectives then in the game. They never really made peace with each other, and as Feller got older he became baseball's definitive Cranky Old Man.

 

[HudsonHawk]

Feller was very much a militant when it came to the Players Association. Here he is being interviewed by Mike Wallace in 1957, just after his retirement, and he has some pretty fiery things to say about how the game was governed.

Feller and Robinson disliked each other on a personal level -- Robinson never forgave or forgot the "football shoulders" remark, and the two got into a very loud argument at an Old Timers' gathering in 1969 over the question of the lack of African-American coaches, managers, and exectives then in the game. They never really made peace with each other, and as Feller got older he became baseball's definitive Cranky Old Man.

Feller viewed Robinson as a grandstander and troublemaker on racial matters while not seeming to care about what Feller felt were more important issues, namely the reserve clause and the way players were treated. He felt Robinson was a bit of a sellout, and was just bitter because he didn't get a job in baseball after his playing career. Robinson viewed Feller as someone who was sheltered and privileged and ultimately blind to the reality going on all around him. They both had harsh words to say about each others playing ability, and both claimed the other was overrated in bouts of gamesmanship. However, they both went into the Hall of Fame on the same day.

 

[Harp]

... they both went into the Hall of Fame on the same day.

The Feller/Robinson tiff was indeed most unfortunate.
I recall hearing a Papa Joe Chevalier radio telephone interview with Feller and he was a cranky gent but to each his due.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Robinson was a very complex man at a time when baseball fans and the baseball media expected ballplayers to be lovable, simple-minded characters with no thoughts of anything beyond the playing field. He was not well liked during his career -- Roy Campanella and he were barely on speaking terms for most of the years they played together, and aside from Roger Kahn of the Herald-Tribune and broadcaster Red Barber, he had no friends in the New York sports media. Robinson was also renowned for having the dirtiest, foulest mouth in the National League, which he directed most often toward Leo Durocher, who he despised and would ridicule in every obscene way possible whenever the opportunity presented itself.

All that said, if any player in the history of the game had a right to carry a chip on his shoulder, it was Robinson -- by the end of his life he realized that he'd been abused repeatedly by the game, even by Branch Rickey himself, without regard for his own dignity, and he was very bitter about this. He wrote several books, but his last one, "I Never Had It Made," written just before his death in 1972, is a truly blistering look at what his life was really like.

 

[HudsonHawk]

Robinson was a very complex man at a time when baseball fans and the baseball media expected ballplayers to be lovable, simple-minded characters with no thoughts of anything beyond the playing field...

We are still like this today in many way. Fans expect players to focus on playing and have little to say outside of "I'm just happy to be here...hope I can help the ball club...gotta play 'em one game at a time...good Lord willing, things will work out." Much of that is derived from the amount of money players earn today, as if somehow getting well paid should restrict a players ability to have opinions on the same things the rest of us have. And that's not entirely unjustified. Many athletes today are pretty out of touch with reality, as they've been "special" from an early age. But fans and media still place unreasonable expectations on players sometimes too.

 

[LizzieMaine]

There was a huge outcry in the mid-fifties when Duke Snider published an as-told-to article in Collier's called "I Play Baseball For Money!" In this piece, Snider declared unapologetically that he did not, in fact, perform out of some pure and sublime love of wholesome athletic competition and the American flag, but for whatever spondulicks he could wring out of Walter F. O'Malley. Brooklyn fans, who were supposed to be a cynical and wide-awake lot, roasted him for this because he'd let slip the unspoken truth of the game. Which is kind of dumb, really. You'd never roast an actor for accepting a salary for a role, and baseball players in the end are as much entertainers as actors are.

 

[Fading Fast]

There was a huge outcry in the mid-fifties when Duke Snider published an as-told-to article in Collier's called "I Play Baseball For Money!" In this piece, Snider declared unapologetically that he did not, in fact, perform out of some pure and sublime love of wholesome athletic competition and the American flag, but for whatever spondulicks he could wring out of Walter F. O'Malley. Brooklyn fans, who were supposed to be a cynical and wide-awake lot, roasted him for this because he'd let slip the unspoken truth of the game. Which is kind of dumb, really. You'd never roast an actor for accepting a salary for a role, and baseball players in the end are as much entertainers as actors are.

Agreed and true, but even to this day, how many times do we hear of an actor who took a role for its artistic merit even thought they will make much less money than staring in the next blockbuster. Either the actor him/herself or the media around them will laud this behavior.

IMHO, either/any version is fine as long as you are honest with yourself and others. I've taken jobs because they pay more even though I'd rather have done something else, but I wanted the money and, at other times, I've turned down jobs for more money because I knew I'd dislike it and felt the money wasn't worth it. I've also stayed in a role for the experience and exposure as I thought it would be both enjoyable and, maybe, more valuable in the long run.

It's wrapping those decisions in some moral sanctity that makes it hard to take. What's wrong with taking a job to make more money? What's so great about passing up on more money to do something you enjoy more or think will expand your skills / experience or whatever?