Motor City Champs

by Scott Ferkovich

  At League Park in Cleveland on April 20, Carl Fischer shut out the Tribe on five hits. In the eighth inning, with Gehringer on first, Cochrane hit a low line drive to shortstop Bill Knickerbocker. Thinking the ball had been caught, the Tigers’ manager halted on his way to first, while Gehringer sprinted toward second. It finally dawned on Cochrane that Knickerbocker had only trapped the ball, and he was thrown out easily. After the 4–0 win, the players held a kangaroo court, presided over by pitcher Firpo Marberry, who informed Cochrane that he was guilty of laxness on the basepaths. Admitting his culpability, Cochrane thus became the first player to fork over the $10 fine that he himself had instituted for players who failed to run out hits. Following a rainout, Detroit headed north for its home opener. Even after only four games, it was obvious this was a different sort of Tigers team. Bud Shaver wrote in the Detroit Times, “Two things are responsible for the brilliant type of baseball the Tigers have presented since the bell rang—condition and hustle. The hustling spirit, manifest the day Manager Cochrane led his squad out of the tiny clubhouse at Lakeland, Fla., for its first practice, has continued unabated. If anything, it has gained impetus. The Tigers are the hustlingest club in baseball.”24

  Navin Field, the Tigers’ home ballpark, was nestled in the Corktown neighborhood just west of downtown, a short cab ride from the Michigan Central Station. Beginning in the 1840s, an influx of Irish immigrants from County Cork, eager to escape the Great Potato Famine, settled the area and gave it its name. What they built was a working-class district of charming, tightly packed row houses blending Federal, Late Victorian, and Colonial Revival architecture.

  A hay market originally sat at the corner of Michigan and Trumbull Avenues; in 1896, the Tigers built Bennett Park at the site. Detroit in those days played in the Western League, a minor circuit led by the imperious Ban Johnson. He eventually re-named it the American League, anticipating his bold vertical move in 1901 to gain major league status. No longer would the stodgy old National League have a monopoly in the world of big league baseball.

  Bennett Park was a small, wooden firetrap typical of the era, yet it served the Tigers well through the century’s first decade, the years of Cobb, Crawford, and World Series heartbreaks. In 1909, however, with the construction of Shibe Park in Philadelphia and Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, the national pastime inaugurated a golden era of ballpark construction. In this brave new world, hardy athletes gamboled on lush greenswards in awe-inspiring concrete-and-steel stadia that were impervious to fire, termites, and rot. Bennett Park, the intimate playground in Corktown, was suddenly outmoded. If the Tigers were going to face the future, they would need a new baseball plant.

  No sooner had the last out of the 1911 season been recorded at Bennett Park than the place was quickly dismantled. Gleaming new Navin Field rose in its place. A “magnificent new stadium,” according to Baseball Magazine, it was built at a cost of $300,000 and could squeeze 23,000 patrons into its yellow, wooden slat-backed seats.25 Detroit’s modern baseball palace opened for business on April 20, 1912, six days after the RMS Titanic struck an iceberg and sank in the frigid waters of the North Atlantic. Fittingly, Ty Cobb scored the ballpark’s first run. Wrote Ralph J. Yonker in the next day’s Detroit Times, “The crowd was a wonderful tribute to the popularity of the Tigers. The immense stands were packed to the limit like a world’s series.”26 On a picture-perfect day for baseball, the Tigers beat Cleveland, 6–5. “Detroit and its Tigers,” wrote a correspondent for Sporting Life, “have just celebrated the most momentous occasion in the history of Michigan base ball. The opening of the new Navin Field can be adequately described in no other way. For the first time in history, Detroit has a ball yard worthy of its rank among the cities—a worthy setting for the wonderfully successful club.”27

  Now, nearly a quarter-century later, over 20,000 fans made their way down to Navin Field to see the Tigers pull out a 7–3 win over the Chicago White Sox. Goslin and Gee Walker both had two hits and were hitting .409. Marberry went the distance for his second victory of the young campaign. “The park was not packed for the opening in freezing weather but those that shivered through two hours and 12 minutes of play saw the Detroit attack at its best.”28

  Indeed, Tigers fans who had braved the weather (temperatures were in the low 40s, and even started “spitting snow” in the second inning) were generally pleased with what they saw out of their cats.29 It was a discriminating crowd, from the bleacher patrons to those in the exclusive box seats who had shelled out $1.65 a head. One of them, on seeing a speedy Gee Walker, noted, “He’s another Cobb.”30 Another fan, after watching Goslin smash out the Tigers’ first single and hustle for an extra base, asserted: “I never saw [John] Stone do anything like that. Guess I’ll take another drink on that.”31 Indeed, for the first time in many years, Tigers fans could enjoy a cold beer at Navin Field. Recently, the State Liquor Control Commission had approved a license for a beer garden to Michigan Sports Service Company, which operated concessions at the park. While patrons seated at the garden’s tables could purchase bottled beer, the Commission insisted that roving concessionaires dispense brew in paper cups. Joked the Free Press: “So the umpires do have a lobby at work!”32

  Detroit took two of three from the Sox, and Tommy Bridges welcomed the Indians into town by hurling a five-hit complete game against them. At 6–2, everything looked rosy for the Tigers so far in 1934. Strong pitching and timely hitting were carrying the team, and Cochrane had his men playing with a bravura that Detroiters had not seen in a long while.

  Just as quickly, the Tigers went into a collective slump. The downward spiral started with a 7–1 shellacking at the hands of the Indians on April 29. Twenty-four hours later, against the St. Louis Browns, Schoolboy Rowe got his second start of the season; he was hit hard again and struggled with his control. In only three innings of work, he allowed four runs on four hits and two walks in a game the Tigers lost, 7–2. “Cochrane’s decision to let Schoolboy Rowe, his tall and temperamental young right-hander, make his second start of the season, was the direct cause of the Bengals’ defeat,” wrote Charles P. Ward of the Detroit Free Press. “Rowe looked good in practice Sunday and fooled Mickey into believing he was ready to go the route. But when the Schoolboy went to the hill Monday, he did not look so good. The Brownies greeted him like a long lost brother. He didn’t have control and he didn’t have much stuff.”33

  With his earned run average at 15.19, Rowe was pulled from the rotation. Cochrane prepared to option him down to Beaumont, but gave him one last shot two days later, albeit in mop-up duty. With the Tigers trailing St. Louis, 5–2, Rowe came on in relief in the ninth inning. As Sam Greene put it, “When Rowe came to the box, he must have felt that he was on trial. Mickey Cochrane had made no secret of his displeasure over the Schoolboy’s lack of earnestness. He was told, in effect, to pitch or else.”34 Rowe got three easy outs, gaining a temporary absolution.

  Cochrane’s biggest quandary was not Rowe, however. It was the Tigers’ weak-hitting outfield. Frank Doljack had opened the season as the regular center fielder, with Gee Walker in right and Goslin in left. Doljack never got untracked as a hitter, and Walker cooled down after a sizzling start. With none of his outfielders hitting with any authority, Cochrane felt a shakeup was in order. First, he sat Goslin, his slumping cleanup hitter, for a couple of games at the end of April. He then switched Walker to left. Jo-Jo White, who had only one pinch-hitting appearance in the season’s first month, was given a shot in right field. Meanwhile, first baseman Hank Greenberg took over at cleanup.

  Goslin’s miseries had begun back on April 28, when he hit into four consecutive double plays against the Indians. Tigers fans were beginning to wonder why the team had ever traded away John Stone. All the so-called experts weighed in as to why Goslin suddenly looked like a cream puff at the plate. Among the more common refrains was that his nose injury had not properly healed. “Cochrane decided that the broken nose which the Red Goose suffered before the American Leag
ue season opened took more out of him than he cared to admit. Therefore Mickey suggested that he take a seat.”35 Others felt that Goslin had put too much pressure on himself to carry the team and justify the trade. Goslin never lost focus, however. He knew he could hit and that he would eventually work his way out of it. “I’ll get going,” he insisted to reporters.36

  Cochrane was not finished with his maneuverings. By May 4, Goslin was back in the lineup in right field, and Cochrane announced that he would platoon Pete Fox and White in center against left- and right-handed pitching. These were just the first of many player personnel shifts that would come that season, as Cochrane constantly tried to hit on a batting order and outfield squad that would be most productive.

  The Tigers’ first big test came on the coast in early May. “How the Tigers will fare on their Eastern jaunt will depend largely on their pitchers,” wrote M. F. Drukenbrod of the Free Press. “In fact they must get better pitching pretty soon or they are due to drop.”37 Against the Yankees on May 4, Tommy Bridges was highly effective despite surrendering a home run to Babe Ruth. Detroit’s bats, however, just could not muster anything against Lefty Gomez. Following the 3–0 defeat, Cochrane juggled his lineup, which helped the offense a bit, but Detroit still lost the following afternoon, 10–6, courtesy of two more homers by the “fat and forty” Babe Ruth.38 Wrote H. G. Salsinger, “Babe Ruth again demonstrated that Tigers pitchers are his favorite base ball meat. He also demonstrated that the specialists are correct when they pronounce his eye sight perfect.”39 With the two losses in the Bronx, Detroit slipped to fourth place, two and a half games behind the Yankees.

  Even Cochrane, at .261, was caught in the hitting malaise; before the game was through, he yanked himself in favor of backup backstop Ray Hayworth. The Tigers’ skipper played no favorites in his constant lineup juggling. Cochrane began the season as the number three hitter, a batting position he had enjoyed for years in Philadelphia. When he could not buy a hit, however, he dropped himself down to seventh in the order.

  Detroit then headed to Fenway Park for a four-game set with the Red Sox. In the opener on May 6, Goslin tripled off Rube Walberg in his first at-bat of the game. It broke a string of 23 consecutive at-bats without a hit, which saw his average drop to .196. The Tigers lost, 14–4, as the team’s defense fell apart, surrendering eight unearned runs.

  The following afternoon, with the Tigers trailing, 6–3, with two on and two out in the top of the ninth, Goslin sent a low liner to right field. Moose Solters played the ball hesitantly, and it skipped past him into the corner. Both runners scored, with Goslin chugging around the bases right behind them for a game-tying, inside-the-park home run. In the top of the 11th, Schoolboy Rowe, who had pitched five sterling innings of relief to that point in the game, came to the plate with one out and one on. Right-hander Johnny Welch “gave the Schoolboy one to his liking; he bent his bat on the ball and sent it sailing over the wall in left field for a home run.”40 Charles P. Ward called it a “lazy circuit clout” that Rowe “golfed.”41 This was the first year the 37-foot-high wall had been painted “Fenway Green,” although it was mostly covered in advertising signage.42 Rowe set the Sox down one-two-three in the home 11th for his first victory of the season. Since being demoted to the bullpen, he had pitched ten innings, allowing only five hits and two earned runs, while fanning ten and walking none. “Schoolboy Rowe is quite a ball player. He looks like a regular pitcher, but does not hit like one, unless it might be like ‘Babe’ Ruth.”43

  The next day, Goslin doubled and batted in two runs as the Tigers won again. Bridges, the team’s most consistent starter, turned in a masterful performance for his second win, while lowering his earned run average to 1.24. Detroit dropped the last game of the series despite Billy Rogell’s 4-for-4 performance. Goslin, meanwhile, got another hit and seemed to have regained his form.

  May 10 marked Cochrane’s return to Shibe Park in Philadelphia, the site of his greatest success as a member of the Athletics. He went hitless, lowering his average to .237. Goslin accounted for all the Tigers’ runs with a three-run homer, his first of the season, but Schoolboy Rowe was again mostly ineffective and suffered his second defeat. The loss temporarily dropped the Tigers to sixth place in the American League.

  On the 11th, the Tigers pounded the Athletics’ Sugar Cain for five runs and went on to win, 10–5. Cochrane broke out with three hits, including a solo home run. Detroit took the rubber game, 4–3, behind the fine pitching of Marberry.

  After a loss in Washington on May 13, the Tigers’ record stood at 11–11. They were tied for fourth place, five and a half games off the pace. The only regular player topping .300 was Charlie Gehringer at .345. The hitters were not hitting, the pitchers were not pitching, and flaws had cropped up in the defense. Cynics were howling that these were the same old Tigers.

  The road trip finally ended on a rainy day at Griffith Stadium. Vic Sorrell was pitching a two-hitter through six frames when a drenching downpour forced the umpires to declare it official. With the 5–0 win, the Tigers packed their bags and boarded a train back to Detroit, where they were set to play the next 12 contests, beginning with the Yankees.

  Chapter Four

  One Hot Goose

  At 30 years old, Charlie Gehringer had already been the Tigers’ regular second baseman for eight years. A perennial .300-hitter, he had acquired the nickname “The Mechanical Man” because of his reliability at the plate and with the glove. Lefty Gomez, the Hall of Fame Yankees pitcher, once said of Gehringer, “You wind him up in the spring and he goes all summer. He hits .330 or .340 or whatever, and then you shut him off in the fall.”1

  Gehringer could do just about whatever he wanted on a baseball field. While he did not hit many home runs (his career high was 19 in 1932), he banged out a ton of extra-base hits. He once led the American League in stolen bases, and he boasted a high walks-to-strikeouts ratio. He was durable as well, having topped the junior circuit three times in games played. He was the finest second sacker of his generation and started for the American League in the first All-Star Game in 1933.

  Raised in rural Fowlerville, about 60 miles northwest of Detroit, Gehringer spent hours as a boy doing the drudgery on his family’s farm. He hated it all, the weeding, the hoeing, and the digging, but especially the cow milking in the frosty, early morning hours. He knew that the baseball field suited him more than the cornfield. As was the case with many kids his age at that time in America, his parents did not approve of such nonsense as bats, balls, and bases. Gehringer, however, was not destined for the farm. He was fortunate enough to attend the University of Michigan, where he studied physical education. When not working a few hours a day at a local ice cream plant, he found time to play baseball for the Wolverines, earning a letter as a freshman.

  By a fortuitous chance, young Gehringer happened to know a man who happened to know Bobby Veach, who happened to have played baseball for the Tigers years ago with Ty Cobb. The friend talked to Veach, who talked to Cobb, who arranged for a tryout for the college boy at Navin Field. Cobb liked what he saw. The youngster had potential, he thought. The Georgia Peach headed off the field, and, without bothering to change out of his Tigers uniform, made a beeline for Navin’s office, where he proceeded to tell the owner that he needed to sign this kid to a contract, and fast.

  “I can’t remember if I got a bonus,” Gehringer was quoted as saying years later. “Maybe five hundred dollars. But I would’ve signed for nothing.”2 The former farmhand, who used to keep a scrapbook of Tigers greats like Cobb, Veach, and Harry Heilmann, now had hopes of flashing his skills at Michigan and Trumbull.

  Charlie Gehringer, dubbed “The Mechanical Man,” made it look effortless on the field (courtesy Ernie Harwell Sports Collection, Detroit Public Library).

  First, however, the Tigers sent him to the London Tecumsehs of the Michigan-Ontario League, where the 21-year-old hit .292. He raised some eyebrows in a brief September call-up, with six hits in 13 at-bats. Following a .32
5 season with the International League’s Toronto Maple Leafs in 1925, he stuck with the Tigers for good the next season, quickly establishing himself as a bona fide major leaguer.

  Fielding a baseball was always something that had come naturally to him. Writer John Kieran dryly wrote, “He [Gehringer] couldn’t explain it himself. He just bent over and picked up the grounders that came his way. It seemed the thing to do. It was pleasant and, after a while, it began to pay him well, and he had no regrets.”3

  Having Ty Cobb for a manager was not always easy, however. In the beginning, Cobb treated Gehringer like a surrogate son, giving him invaluable batting instruction. “Then all of a sudden he got upset with me about something,” Gehringer remembered. “To this day I don’t know what it was. He would hardly speak to me. He wouldn’t even tell me what signs I was going to get from the coaches. Weird. But he kept playing me, so it didn’t really matter whether he talked to me or not.”4

  The Mechanical Man reached the mantle of superstar in 1929, topping the American League in games played (155), runs (131), hits (215), doubles (45), triples (19), and stolen bases (27), while also driving in 106 runs. A selective hitter, he rarely, if ever, swung at the first pitch. He was one of the smartest players in the game, on the field or off. Kieran also observed, “He is the catch-as-catch-can crossword puzzle champion of the American League, and furthermore, he actually reads the books that certain other professional athletes carry around with them as scenic effects.”5 Charles P. Ward was surprised to discover that Gehringer had a musical bent. “He loves to sit in his apartment of nights and coax soft liquid notes from a saxophone until the neighbors protest.”6 Not the talkative sort, Gehringer was perhaps the worst interview subject in the league.