Fresno Senior Softball League: Strange stories !!
THE BROOM . . . . . . . .
Up until 1904 a standard part of the scenery around home plate in a major-league ball game was a long-handled broom. It was used, of course, by the umpire to sweep the dirt off the plate. And, like any other appurtenance of the game, a large body of superstition grew up around the kitchen size brrom.
When the umpire finished dusting off the plate he usually tossed the broom to one side. This casual act was always watched closely by the superstitious batsman in the dugouts, for much depended on where that broom landed. If it was thrown to the right of the plate it foretold certain things about base hits or strike-outs, and if it landed to the left it meant something else again. The direction in which the handle might be pointing was sometimes sufficient reason for a manager to call for a change in strategy. On one occassion Hans Wagner wanted to change the position of the broom to help him get a hit; another Pittsburgh player protested on the grounds that if the broom were moved he would surely strike out. The two men got into a bitter quarrel over the matter.
Nobody thought of subsituting the handier whisk broom for the tall variety until 1904. In that year a Chicago Cub named McCarthy was racing from third to home when he stepped on the broom and injured his ankle seriously. That was enough to outlaw the big broom. President H.C. Pulliam of the National League issued an executive order requiring that umpires use whisk brooms and stow them in their hip pockets. A year or so later the American League adopted the same rule.
Saturday, October 7
STRANGE ONE . . . . . .
There was never any telling what those Baltimore Oriloes would do to win a game. Joe Kelly was playing the outfield for the Orioles on afternoon in the 1890's. A high wind had hit the city on the preceding night, and the fence at Kelly's back had been knocked over. By the time the game started, workmen had succeded in getting the fence partially back into position. At one point, however, it was still sloping outward at the forty-five degree angle.
Early in the game a hard=hit ball soared over Kelly's head. He turned and raced after it. Reaching the base of the sloping fence, Kelly twisted his head and swa that the ball would still be out of his reach. He didn't even slow down, but ran right up the slope. Just as he reaced the top the ball slapped into his glove, and the momentum of his rush carried him clear out of the park.
It was, possibly, the only time a fair ball was hit over the fence for an out instead of a home run.
Friday, September 29
SCHMIDT THAT WE KNOW ?
Countless legends surround the career of Crazy Schmidt, who was an eccentric's eccentric. Schmidt pitched for many clubs, both in the major and minor leagues, and the early 1890s found him working for the Macon, Georgia, team.
Schmidt got into an altercation with a local fan and wound up in court, charged with throwing a brick at the plaintiff. The judge asked him how he was pleading.
"Not guilty, of course, your honor," said Schmidt. "The fact that the plaintiff is alive today and appears in this court is evidence that I did not throw a brick at him. With the perfect control which I have long demonstrated in throwing baseball, and which I am sure your honor knows about, if I had thrown a brick at this fellow I would have killed him dead." Case dismissed.
Friday, September 8
POPCORN PROBLEMS . . . . . .
In 1902 Germany Schaefer, first-base coach with Washington, Devised a little trick through which he could show his contempt for the enemy. Whenever Schafer was contemptous of another team's capabilities, he would appear in the coaching box with a bag of popcorn. During the game he would eat popcorn and gaze at the skies and pretend, generally, that today's contest was a very boresome affair. One day when Schafer appeared with a huge bag of popcorn during a game against Chicago, Umpire Silk O'Loughlin banished him from the field on the grounds that he was detracting formt the dignity of the national pastime. Thus it would appear that Schafer belongs in the record books - the only big-league player ever expelled from the game for eating popcorn.
Friday, September 1
LAYING DOWN ON THE JOB . . . . .
BIG BILL LANCE, outfielder for Chicago in the 1890's, once won a ball game for his team by lying face downward on the ground. Chicago had a man on first when Bill came to bat. He hit a single to right field. Rounding first base, he went a bit too far, and the right fielder fired the ball in to the first base-man, making necessary for Big Bill to dive for the bag. As he came sliding back, the first baseman dropped the ball. Meanwhile the other Chicago runner was scampering around the bases. The first baseman couldn't find the ball and Big Bill just lay where he was, half across the bag. The first baseman finally decided that the ball was under Big Bill's immense body and began pulling and tugging, but by the time he did find it the run had scored.
Friday, August 25
WHAT IF UMPIRES CARRIED GUNS ?
Forty and Fifty year ago it was not an uncommon thing for a umpire to carry a loaded revolver on his job-his work was certainly as hazardous as, say, the job of bank guard in the Jessie James country.
In 1907, for example, Manager Ducky Holmes of the Lincoln team in the Western League made an official protest against the habits of an umpire named Grifford who always officiated with a pistol in his pocket.
There have been a variety of other cases in which gun-toting umpires figured. Newspapers dated 1896 tell of a ball game in New Jersey between the Clifton and Little Falls teams in which a pitcher named Connelly got angry at the way Umpire Mahoney was calling his serves. Pitcher Connelly got so mad, in fact, that he picked up a bat and started for the umpire. Whereupon Mahoney yanked out his revolver, which he carried in his inside coat pocket. He shoved it into the pithcers face, telling him at the same time that if he took one more step he'd blow his nose clean through his noggin. Pitcher Connelly, the press reported, returned at once to the mound.
Some people in our league need to take this to heart or Chuck might start carring a gun. LOL
Friday, August 18
STEALING FIRST BASE ?
When the hot-stove leaguers get to playing it fast and loose, there's always a good chance that some old-timer will project himself back to 1911 and tell the stroy which usually begins, "I remember the time when Germany Schaefer stole first base...."
Schaefer was playing with Washington against Chicago, and Washington ws batting, with the score tied in the ninth. Clyde Milan, a speedster on the base paths, had reached third and Schaefer was on first. Two men were out, the man at bat was a weak hitter, and there was a desperate need to get Milan across the plate.
On the first pitch Schaefer stole second without an attempt being made to get him. On the next pitch he astounded everybody in the park by dashing back to first and sliding into the bag. His idea had been to draw a throw from the catcher, thereby permitting Milan to score from third. It didn't work, and there was much argument and confusion for a while, Washington finally pulled the game out in the twelfth.
For days, weeks, months - even for years - people talked about that play - always praising Germany Schaefer for inventing a new gimmick in the science of base running. Now the Vice-President in Charge of Research for this book comes along with the information that Schaefer didn't invent the play, that Harry Davis of the Philadelphia Athletics executed the same maneuver nine years earlier and did a better job of it, for Davis succeeded. Whether Germany Schaefer remembered the Davis play or not is a consideration that you may speculate about, if you fell like it.
At any rate, with the situation almost exactly the same, Davis stole second. On the next pitch he went back and stole first. This maneuver confused the Detroit catcher, and the confusion became greater when Davis lit out for second again. This time a throw was made to the shortstop, but Davis arrived safely, and the Philadelphia runner on third crossed the plate.
