The Tigers won four of their first eight exhibition games and were daily tearing the cover off the ball. “They believe in themselves,” wrote W. W. Edgar of the Detroit Free Press. “They’re actually boasting of what they’ll do. And that’s a great change from the condition that existed only a year ago.”11 Against the Boston Braves at Lakeland on March 21, Tigers pitching held Babe Ruth hitless for his new team, as Detroit scored two runs in the bottom of the ninth to win, 5–4. Nevertheless, Cochrane sensed that the team was not putting forth its best effort. The evening of the Boston game, he called a meeting at the hotel and lit into his men. Accusing them of loafing, he warned that if they thought they could roll to the American League pennant by playing the type of lackadaisical baseball they had shown so far, they had another thing coming. The show of disapproval achieved its desired effect, as the Tigers pounded the reigning world-champion Cardinals the next day, 12–5.
Goose Goslin was the biggest recipient of Cochrane’s tongue-lashing. After the old war-horse had mailed it in during a few games, Cochrane felt it was time to call him on the carpet. The manager benched him for a few games, which bewildered Goslin, who took pride in his reputation as a hustling player. Cochrane understood that Goslin was simply trying to avoid overexerting himself before the season began. He pulled Goslin aside in private and explained to him that it was important to maintain discipline. The younger players on the team needed to see that loafing would have consequences, even for established stars. Goslin was satisfied with that explanation.
After the victory over St. Louis, however, Detroit was trounced on successive days by Casey Stengel’s Brooklyn Dodgers. With an open date in the schedule, Cochrane made his charges run through exhausting drills in the sweltering Florida heat. To add to their penance, the regulars were forced to sit in the stands the next game as the reserves beat Rochester, 11–1.
The Cardinals proved to be a good tonic for the Tigers. On March 27, Detroit gained sweet revenge on the Brothers Dean, 13–8. Goslin hustled in the field and drove in three runs, while Greenberg tripled with the bases loaded and later singled in a pair. Jo-Jo White, homerless in 1934, hit one against Paul Dean. Detroit took special pleasure in routing the loud-mouthed Dizzy. One Tiger reportedly crowed, “That guy’ll find out he can’t talk his way through baseball. Paul’s all right—he’s a swell kid, but that Dizzy doesn’t go with us.”12
The beauty of spring training is its boundless hope. Every year, it seems, a young, unheralded player comes out of nowhere, banging out hit after hit and looking like a potential all-star. The 1935 Tigers had that player in Chet Morgan. It was not as if nobody had heard of Morgan. In 1934, the outfielder had won the batting title at Beaumont, hitting .342 with 216 hits, 120 runs scored, 42 doubles, ten triples, and six home runs. Most agreed, however, that he was a long shot to make the Tigers in 1935. He got off to a blistering start in the spring exhibition games, with 12 hits in his first 25 at-bats. Unfortunately, Morgan was an even worse outfielder than Dixie Howell, and an atrocious baserunner to boot. Still, there were whispers that Cochrane would have no choice but to bring him north.
Clyde Hatter, a 26-year-old lefty who had a 37–61 record in five minor league seasons, was looking like a world-beater. With a good fastball and curve, Hatter was cool under pressure and fielded his position with grace and agility. Cochrane banked that he was the left-handed starter he had been looking for. If not, there was Joe Sullivan, a highly touted prospect who won 25 games for the Hollywood Stars of the Pacific Coast League in 1934.
A mini-controversy flamed up in New Orleans, where the Cleveland Indians trained. The Tribe was expected to be a serious contender in 1935, but Cochrane apparently was not of that opinion. During an interview, Black Mike was asked what he thought of the Indians’ chances in the American League. He supposedly replied, “The Indians? Who are they?” This flippant remark did not sit well with Cleveland manager Walter Johnson or his team. Cochrane had no desire to give the Tribe any motivation, a la Bill Terry the year before (“Is Brooklyn Still in the League?”). The Tigers’ skipper rapidly penned a letter to Johnson, claiming that his words were misrepresented and he meant no disrespect. He asked Johnson to post the letter in the Cleveland clubhouse for all to see. The former pitching legend, however, did no such thing. Johnson tore up the letter, throwing peace and pieces to the wind. Let the Indians read about Cochrane’s repudiation in the papers, he proclaimed. Johnson, for one, was not about to quench any spark that might light a fire under his team. When Cochrane got word of Johnson’s reaction, he was visibly miffed. “All right, if they want to be that way, we can take care of ourselves.”13 Ed Bang, sports editor of the Cleveland News, huffed: “Of such mole hills are baseball’s mountains made.”14
The Florida weather had been cold and damp, which made it hard on the pitchers who were trying to loosen up their arms. The rain resulted in muddy, slippery playing conditions. When the Tigers finally broke camp and headed north on April 3, Cochrane was happy to have all his charges ready, able, and vertical. Detroit journeyed with the Reds to play a dozen exhibition games in Florida, Georgia, the Carolinas, and the Virginias. The bad weather followed them everywhere they went.
Cochrane was less impressed with Dixie Howell the more he saw of him. The ballyhooed Alabaman with the leading-man looks was awkward at the plate; whether he would make the big club appeared very much in doubt. On April 11, the Tigers and Reds were practicing one morning in Lynchburg when Howell was struck in the face by a batted ball. He suffered a broken right cheekbone, with the fracture extending into the eye socket. Howell was fortunate not to have suffered greater injury; he would be out for at least three weeks, according to doctors. The unlucky ball had been struck by Johnny Mize, a 22-year-old Reds minor leaguer, who later went on to a Hall of Fame career with the Cardinals, Giants, and Yankees.
The Tigers and Reds concluded their northerly jaunt in Cincinnati, where they unlocked the gates to Crosley Field on April 14 in a final warm-up before the regular season. Detroit bagged Cincinnati, 3–2, with Auker giving up only four hits in eight innings. Over 10,500 fans showed up at the ballpark at Findlay and Western that afternoon, capping an exhibition season in which the Tigers had continually played to packed houses. Cochrane’s men looked primed for the defense of their American League title.
Perhaps the biggest surprise of the team was the re-emergence of Gee Walker. In the final week in Florida, he had hit and fielded well, and looked like a new man on the basepaths. Cochrane unhesitatingly chose him as his starter in right field over the incumbent, Pete Fox. Chet Morgan, the springtime hitting phenom, was slated for reserve outfield duty. But Cochrane was concerned about Marv Owen, who still had not rounded into the proper playing shape.
The Tigers expected big things from Greenberg, who went on record as saying his personal goal in 1935 was to swing for the fences more. “That’s the thing that makes stars,” he noted.15 He approached Cochrane at the end of spring training with his desire to be the everyday cleanup hitter. It was an indication of Greenberg’s growing confidence. He batted mostly sixth in 1934, although by September Cochrane was penciling him into the fourth slot nearly every day. In the Series against St. Louis, Greenberg had batted cleanup the first three games and sixth thereafter. Now, heading into 1935, Cochrane agreed that his slugging first baseman was a candidate for full-time cleanup duty.
Many prognosticators believed the Tigers had been a very good team in 1934, but that they were only a key injury or two from falling back to the pack. The Yankees, Red Sox and Indians were expected to give Detroit a good battle. Would the Bronx Bombers still have the same swagger without Babe Ruth? They possessed possibly the best starting staff in the American League, with Lefty Gomez, Red Ruffing, Johnny Broaca, and Johnny Allen. They had also purchased some pitching insurance in Pat Malone, winner of 115 games in seven years with the Cubs. A big question mark was 35-year-old Earle Combs. Could he come back from a skull fracture sustained in a collision with the center field wall late
in the season? Moreover, what of the young, unproven George Selkirk, counted on to take over for Ruth in right field? Lou Gehrig might have to shoulder most of the offensive load for the Yanks if either Combs or Selkirk faltered.
Offense was something the Cleveland Indians did not have to worry about. Rookie Hal Trosky (35 homers, 142 RBI, .330 BA in 1934) and Earl Averill (.313/.414/.569 slash line) were left-handed sluggers who took advantage of the ridiculously short right-field fence at League Park. Odell Hale (101 RBI) and Joe Vosmik (.341 BA), who swung from the right side, were also big threats. But after 20-game winner Mel Harder and Monte Pearson’s 18 wins, there was a big drop-off in pitching. In addition, there were rumblings that manager Walter Johnson was not popular with some of his players.
At the plate, the Red Sox had young third baseman Billy Werber, who hit .321 with 40 stolen bases in 1934, and left fielder Roy Johnson, who’d fashioned a lifetime .297 mark in six seasons with Detroit and Boston. First and second base had been major weaknesses in 1934, but the Sox were anticipating some punch from 24-year-old rookie first sacker Babe Dahlgren, a Pacific Coast League star from San Francisco. Boston had scored the third-most runs in the American League in 1934, but the pitching staff seemed like a house of cards ready to collapse. A return to form by Lefty Grove, coming off a terrible season in which he won only eight games with a 6.50 earned run average, would solve a lot of problems. It shaped up to be a four-team race, with the Tigers given a slight edge. Cochrane knew it would not come easy. His personality would not allow him to forget the sting of the Game Seven humiliation in the World Series. To have come so close, and to be devastated in the end, was a bitter pill to swallow. He would have to kick it into a higher gear as manager. He would have to out-work, out-prepare, and outthink the managers on the other side of the diamond. Anything else was unacceptable.
With John Dillinger out of the way, George “Baby Face” Nelson assumed the mantle of Public Enemy No. 1, albeit briefly. It did not take long for the 25-year-old gangster and bank robber to meet the same fate as Dillinger. A little over a month after Cochrane’s G-Men had won the American League pennant, the nation’s other G-Men, led by FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover, scored their biggest victory. In a wild shootout known as the “Battle of Barrington,” the FBI killed the notorious Nelson. Hoover’s G-Men suffered the loss of two fine agents, including Ed Hollis, the former Detroit bureau chief who had shot Dillinger.
In December, the first telephone line linking Japan and the United States was inaugurated. Secretary of State Cordell Hull exchanged pleasantries with Foreign Minister Koki Hirota over a crackly connection. Telephone calls notwithstanding, relations between the two nations were unsettled. By year’s end, Japan announced that it would no longer be a party to the Washington Naval Treaty. Ratified at the end of World War I, the agreement set a limit on naval construction between the U.S., Britain, Japan, France, and Italy. Hull accepted Japan’s abrogation of the treaty with what he called genuine regret.
Nineteen-thirty-four had been a good year for the Chevrolet Motor Car Company, with 876,000 automobiles rolling out of its U.S. and Canadian factories. That marked its sixth time in the last eight years as the world’s biggest producer. New models would feature the powerful “Blue Flame” engine, providing improved performance at any speed. Henry Ford, meanwhile, was predicting a decided upturn in business. While he admitted that car dealers would not be jumping summersaults the way they had in 1929, there was reason for everyone to be hopeful. In 1935, he boasted, Ford vehicles would be longer, wider, roomier, and heavier. Engines would be more powerful. The company’s lowest-price model was the five-window coupe, at $495. The station wagon, on the other hand, would set an American family back $670. It would be a tough sell for many households. The economy was showing signs of life, but unemployment remained high. In January 1935, Roosevelt sent an unbalanced budget to Congress that included nearly $5,000,000,000 for relief and recovery. One sign of a rebounding Motor City was the improved real estate market: Federal and city officials, as well as real estate and banking professionals, agreed that the area was on the cusp of a construction boom, which would alleviate Detroit’s housing shortage. Even though Americans lacked the deep pockets to invest in real estate, they could always pretend that they did. A new board game called Monopoly debuted in February 1935. As players munched on their newfangled Ritz crackers, they could buy and sell imaginary prime properties like Boardwalk and Park Place, all with the goal of driving the competition into bankruptcy.
America thrilled to the daring exploits of a 37-year-old aviator from Kansas named Amelia Earhart. Braving clouds, fog, and capricious winds, Earhart became the first ever to fly solo from Hawaii to California. After covering 2,408 miles of Pacific Ocean, over a span of 18 hours and 16 minutes, her red plane touched down in Oakland at 4:31 pm on January 12, 1935, to the ovations of a welcoming crowd. Across the continent, the eyes of the world were riveted on a small courtroom in Flemington, New Jersey, where Bruno Richard Hauptmann stood trial for the suspected kidnapping and murder of the infant son of another famous flyer, Charles Lindbergh. “The Trial of the Century” lasted nearly six weeks and captivated the nation. On February 13, the jury finally reached a verdict on the fifth ballot: Guilty of murder in the first degree. Reports out of Berlin, meanwhile, threw all of Europe into a state of alarm. Scrapping the Treaty of Versailles, Nazi Germany decreed compulsory military service in the Reich, with an aim of quadrupling the size of its regular army to nearly 500,000. Great Britain and France issued a joint protest to Germany and the League of Nations, claiming that the new dictate threatened peace in the region.
Tigers fans were eager to welcome back the American League champions. The team’s train arrived at Michigan Central Station at 7:30 on the morning of April 15, greeted by a throng of jubilant rooters. Cochrane ordered his men to report to Navin Field in four hours for a practice session. Baseball was back in Detroit, but the long, cold winter was not over yet. While snow swirled through the streets and arctic blasts blew between the downtown buildings, the first game at Navin Field had to be postponed one day. Wintry weather affected other openers as well, setting off a fresh round of the annual appeals to start the season a week later. Opined The Sporting News: “Loyal fans, it is true, continue to brave pneumonia in order to follow tradition and attend games on Opening Day, but their number is dwindling and will diminish to an even greater extent if common sense is not employed and the openings moved back to permit the early games to be staged under more favorable settings.”16 It is a refrain familiar to baseball fans of today.
A frigid Navin Field crowd of 24,000 was on hand to watch the Tigers begin the defense of their American League championship against the Chicago White Sox on Wednesday, April 17. Schoolboy Rowe was not sharp. Down 4–1 in the sixth, Goslin brought the fans to their feet with a three-run homer off 42-year-old starter Sad Sam Jones. But the Sox scored three runs in the eighth, highlighted by player-manager Jimmie Dykes’s two-run triple. Former Bengal Whitlow Wyatt pitched two perfect innings of relief to close it out. The new electronic scoreboard in right field, 110 feet long and 30 feet high, showed a 7–6 Chicago victory on its red, green, and amber lights. Wrote H. G. Salsinger of the Detroit News, “No one has, as far as we know, ever compiled a list showing the total number of ways in which a ball game can be lost, but Detroit did fairly well yesterday in using a number of different methods and all of them with certain effectiveness.”17 Rowe confessed to having the Opening Day jitters; Goslin maintained that was perfectly natural. “Well, when the time comes when you don’t feel that way,” said Goose, “you’re no longer a big leaguer.”18
Any hopes of an undefeated season for the Sox were quickly dashed the next day, when the Tigers recaptured a little of that 1934 late-inning magic. The weather was slightly better, but Detroiters renewed that great baseball tradition of shunning the second home game of the year, as only about 5,000 attended. Tommy Bridges pitched tough despite not having good command; heading into the home ha
lf of the sixth, the score was tied at two. Detroit looked ready to blow the game open, however, when they loaded the bases with nobody out. That marked the end of the afternoon for Sox starter Les Tietje. In came Joe Vance, making his big league debut. The 29-year-old got Cochrane to pop to the catcher, and Gehringer bounced into a double play to end the inning.
In the seventh it was Gee Walker, recently emerged from Black Mike’s doghouse, singling with two out to put Detroit on top. It was the team’s first lead of the season, but it did not last long, as the Sox countered with a two-out RBI single of their own, this one by Jackie Hayes, to tie it in the eighth. The South Siders re-took the lead in the ninth thanks to Luke Appling’s run-scoring single.
With his team down 4–3 in the bottom of the ninth, Goslin opened with a base knock and dashed home one out later on Walker’s double off the left-field fence. The hustling Walker twisted his ankle sliding into second, and Pete Fox came in to run for him. At that point, the rookie Vance had trouble finding home plate. Two walks, sandwiched around a strikeout, loaded the bases, bringing up Cochrane with a chance to win it. Vance walked him as well, forcing in Fox to end the affair. It had not been pretty, but the Tigers’ faithful whooped and hollered, knowing a victory was a victory. Still, the final score could not hide the fact that the home team left 16 men on base, while the Sox stranded 13.
After the game, Cochrane decided that Greenberg was not yet the answer at cleanup. The first basemen had only two singles in nine plate appearances, with no RBI. Goslin, on the other hand, had gone 6-for-9 with two doubles, a home run, and five RBI in the number five slot. Cochrane figured he would try Goslin at cleanup and move Greenberg down to sixth. With Walker out indefinitely from his ankle injury, Pete Fox became the new right fielder.
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