by Chris Willis
The pro football scene was now full of a few passionate owners and more talented stars than every before, and Carr got excited about the prospects of the gridiron game in 1919. While addressing a group of local sportsmen in Akron, Carr spoke about the birth of pro football: "It started in 1901 when West Point Cadets were stationed in the Columbus barracks and they tossed a challenge into Columbus for a football match. The boys came to me and asked me to manage a team, so I did, and went over and played them. That was in September and every Sunday from then to Christmas, we played back and forth. As the season grew older we started hiring players and next year organized a professional team. That's how professional football started in this country. 1127
Maybe Carr was thinking how pro football started in Columbus for his Panhandles' team (which played the Columbus Barracks in their first game in 1901 under William Butler), but it was not how pro football started in this country. But anything for a headline, as the Akron BeaconJournal ran the quote in its sports section to promote the sport. Despite the lack of an organized league, Carr was now excited about the prospects of professional football; the only thing worrying him was how his sandlot squad would compete in this new environment of college star-filled teams.
After playing just one game the previous season, Carr brought back most of the old stars to play in 1919. Back were the five Nesser brothers (everyone except Al), Hi Brigham, Hal Gaulke, Joe Mulbarger, Homer Ruh, and Oscar Kuehner. Walt Rogers, Oscar Wolford, and Will Waite added some new blood to the Panhandles' lineup. Emmett Ruh and Lee Snoots returned to the team after serving in the army. But the Nessers were getting old, four of them were over the age of thirty-John was forty-three, Phil was thirty-six, Ted was thirty-five, and Fred was thirtyone-and Frank turned thirty that summer. Plus, Emmett Ruh and Lee Snoots had lost two years due to the war, and Carr was at the mercy of hiring his players from the Panhandle shops, which wasn't going to help him compete with the other fully loaded pro squads.
The schedule was tough as always, with most professional teams in Ohio and around the Midwest still wanting to schedule the famous Panhandles. The Nessers still had the ability to attract fans. All ten games would be played away from Columbus as Carr took his team on the road again. Columbus was becoming more and more "gaga" over the Ohio State Buckeyes football exploits, and Carr could see his hometown building a special relationship with the campus, which later would contribute to the demise of pro football in Columbus.
The season started on a positive note with a 53-0 victory over the Newark (Ohio) Stars, but the Panhandles offense would stall and score only twenty-four points in the next nine games. After the Newark game Carr received another marquee writing assignment from the Ohio State journal, as he was asked to cover the 1919 World Series between the Cincinnati Reds of the National League and the Chicago White Sox of the American League. Carr had no idea he was about to cover one of the darkest moments in sports history; the 1919 World Series would be known as the "Black Sox" Series, as eight members of the White Sox were eventually accused of throwing the series.
Joe Carr invited his brother Michael to attend Game 1 in Cincinnati, as well as his older brother John Karr, who wanted to watch his adopted hometown team, the White Sox. Carr covered almost every game, and his writing didn't reveal suspicion of any wrongdoings by the White Sox players. He wrote about the atmosphere and action with just a few sprinkles of questionable play.
Game 1 (October 1, 1919-at Cincinnati)
Crowds jammed every available place within a block to witness the game. Seats are built to witness the game. Seats are built extending over the park wall over two streets that are closed. People covered the tops of large factories close by. While on a hilltop, that looks to be at least a half a mile from the park, a big crowd stood all afternoon watching the game. A demonstration worth going miles to see was pulled shortly before the teams took the field for play when John Philip Sousa entered the grounds. The band immediately struck up "The Star Spangled Banner." Every one of the many thousands immediately stood up and the spectacle was one long to be remembered.
With the pitching "ace" of the American League [Ed Cicotte] chucked temporarily into the discard, stock of the Reds has taken a rapid advance. Before the game the most ardent followers of the Moran tribe were anything but confident of the outcome. But, after seeing the Reds outplay the hirelings of Comiskey at every turn of the game, both friend and foe are agreed that the White Sox will have to use everything at their command and then some to come through on the long end of the series.
Game 2 (October 2, 1919-at Cincinnati)
The day was like one in July, and the sun shone brightly. The crowd, while not quite as large as yesterday, filled all of the stands, but fewer were standing along the outfield fences. Many women were among the spectators, even in the bleachers, and when the immense throng would stand from time to time to stretch, it looked as though a great white wave was rising, as all had coats off on account of the extreme heat.
The thought that many had that the Reds would falter when they faced a left hander [Lefty Williams] was dispelled after today's game, for in addition to taking advantage of Williams' wildness, they seemed able to solve his delivery when hits meant runs. However, it is a matter of record during the championship season that the Reds lost few games in which the flinging was done by a portsider.
Game 3 (October 3, 1919-at Chicago)
It was left for the smallest battery in the American League to halt, at least temporarily, the fast-going Reds in their rush for the world's premier honors in baseball. Dick Kerr, the miniature lefthander of the Sox, and his little battery mate, Ray Schalk, today turned the trick. The Reds did not have the slightest chance to score in the entire game. They, as losers, did not look as bad as the White Sox did when they were on the short end of the score.
Game 5 (October 6, 1919-at Chicago)
Even the most ardent White Sox fans are willing to quit after the performance today. With the coming of the blues to the followers of the Chicago club the enthusiasm of the Red followers increased, as they made an awful din in the stands, and the Red players on the bench were making plenty of noise kidding the White Sox players. In that eventful sixth inning you would have thought that the game was being played in Cincinnati rather than on the grounds of the enemy, so great was the cheering and noise that followed each play that added to the [Reds] scoring.
The general cry on all sides tonight is "On to Redland and finish it up tomorrow." Even the Sox players want to get it over as the gate receipts, in which they share, have stopped. They consider themselves out of the running.
Game 6 (October 7, 1919-at Cincinnati)
The crowd today was the largest of the series in Cincinnati. Every available space was packed and the housetops all around the park were packed to the guard rails. Three women, far outside the left field on a building were waving small American flags during most of the play.
In the first extra-inning of the present series and in the most weird game of the entire six played to date, the White Sox came from behind and won over the Reds, 5 to 4. It was a game full of errors of both commission and omission, with the latter style of misplay far in the majority. For were it possible to record the errors of the brain that were made by players of both teams and especially, the Reds, it would take a longer column than has ever been seen recording a baseball game 28
The Reds would end up winning the series in eight games (as the World Series was the best of nine in 1919) and upsetting the heavily favored White Sox. The following year eight members of the White Sox would be accused of fixing the series, but on August 2, 1921, the defendants were acquitted of all charges. Despite this verdict, baseball commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis banned all eight players for life, showing once again gambling among players had no business in professional sports, something Carr took note of, again.
When Carr returned to his football team, he saw his squad lose a tough one to the Akron Indians, 13-0, before heading into their annual battle wi
th the Canton Bulldogs. The Panhandles brought only one Nesser (thirty-five-year-old Ted) to face Ralph Hay's powerful Bulldog aggregation, which didn't make the car dealer too happy. A disappointing crowd of 2,000 fans saw the Bulldogs win 22-3 over the railroaders. It would be one of the smallest crowds to see the Bulldogs play all season-compared to the games against Akron (9,000), Massillon (10,000 for first game; 7,000 for second), and the two Hammond games in Chicago attracting 20,000 fans combined-and Hay was fuming at the Panhandles' crowd.
In order to pay his talented and very pricy squad, Hay needed more than 2,000 fans per game, and he took out his frustration on Joe Carr. Their relationship would become very "icy" over the next few years when the sport was going to organize itself. One thing was for sure-Hay didn't think highly of the Panhandles, as the Bulldogs never played Carr's team ever again, ending a great rivalry that had played every season since 1912 (excluding the war year of 1918).
A couple of weeks after the Bulldogs-Panhandles game, Hay once again brought up the potential of a pro football league. Speaking at a luncheon in Cleveland, he was quoted as saying the Bulldogs "will be on the ground floor when a meeting for the formation of a league is called."29 Hay's "hustler" personality and flamboyant way of doing business didn't sit well with the more thoughtful and humble Carr, whose nearly twenty years of experience backed him up. Hay had only been an owner for one season so the idea of this "novice" talking about a new pro football league disturbed Carr.
Carr now had a lot of things to think about, but the most important thing occupying his mind was how to salvage his team's season. After back-to-back wins against the Dayton Triangles and Detroit Heralds, everything went south for the Panhandles. As the aging Nessers and the rest of the railroaders played late into the 1919 season, they lost their last three games to finish the season with a 3-6-1 record. The only highlight was the trip west to play in Illinois against the Rock Island Independents in front of a big crowd of 6,000 fans. The Nessers were still an attraction to pro football fans, but their play on the field was a different story, as the Panhandles were steamrolled 40-0.
Some of the fire was still there, but the skills had diminished for most of the players on Carr's roster. Also, the team was getting less publicity, as most of the teams in Ohio and in the Midwest were either equal to or better than the once mighty Panhandles. So Carr had a lot to think about going into next season. But the one thing he didn't have to think about was the future of the sport he loved. On the whole pro football was improving as a viable sporting venture, as teams in Canton, Akron, Chicago, Dayton, Buffalo, Rock Island, Hammond, and Detroit were running teams that were very successful.
On November 15 the Columbus Citizen wrote an article on the potential of professional football.
Pro Football Can Be Made Success
There is something besides the "nine rahs" missing in professional football. The pros lack condition, team work, speed and spirit. Outside of that it closely resembles the good old gridiron game indulged in by husky collegians for many decades.
But professional football is growing in popularity and if the men backing the teams will insist on rigid training and plenty of practice sessions the game may be made worth while.
There is a demand for such a good healthy sport as football. The sport fans have baseball in the summer and up until the first autumn crispness is in the air. The baseball is adjourned until the next spring. There remains two months of generally good weather. Football fills it nicely. The fans are willing to pay for it.
Should Pep Up
But the footballers should make it snappier. There is plenty of talent. Men out of college only two or three season should be capable of playing good football if they'd only practice with their teammates and perfect offensive work. They're fairly good on the defense as is evidenced by the fact that in Ohio, where pro football is strongest, most games have been won by field goal kicking. That shows the defense work of the teams is much better than their offensives for failing to gain distance in line plunging, end runs and forward passes, they win their games with field goals.30
But despite these encouraging signs, the sport of professional football had several major problems that needed to be addressed by the passionate team managers. "Moguls, " as newspapers called them, had to face the escalating prices of players. In 1915 Jack Cusack had lured Jim Thorpe to Canton for the unheard of sum of $250 dollars per game. He was worth the price, but it inflated prices for the rest of the players, and teams now had to shell out over $2,000 for an entire team, which would be tough to cover when most ticket prices didn't go for more than one dollar each. Moreover, most of the parks in these small towns of Ohio didn't seat more than a few thousand and were usually only filled for the bigger games. More cities such as Detroit or Chicago were needed to see the game grow.31
Because of the escalating salaries, players could play one team manager against another better than they actually played their positions. Players still played for multiple teams during a season, and this bothered fans and the press. Fan loyalty was hard to maintain when this week's star halfback who ran ragged last week for one team would sometimes be scoring touchdowns against you the next. Most team managers readily admitted they were their own worst enemies in these bidding wars and insisted they were forced to do it in order to be competitive. They would say, "If we didn't do it, someone else would," and fans wouldn't support a loser. Most of this was true for team managers, but the sport couldn't grow without settling these issues.32
Probably the worst offense was using college coaches and players under assumed names. Over the past several years pro teams lined up with more "Smiths" than could be read in the phone book. One advantage of using college players was that they came cheaper than a more established star. This practice gave pro football a bad reputation within the sports world and earned it the unyielding opposition of the more popular college game. College football was the "king" on the gridiron block, and it commanded big headlines on the sports pages, filled large stadiums, and pressured graduates to avoid the pro game. For example, in December of 1919 the Western Conference (forerunner of the Big Ten Conference) passed a rule that banned any former player, coach, or official who participated in professional football from ever working in the conference.
Several columnists suggested that the only solution to these problems would be the organization of an official league just like Major League Baseball had done some fifty years earlier. Joe Carr couldn't have agreed more. He knew pro football was going to be big, maybe even bigger than baseball, and he wanted to make his mark in the sport he had helped grow over the past thirteen years as team manager of the Columbus Panhandles.
After a year where he made a name for himself by covering two of the biggest sports events in 1919 (Willard-Dempsey fight and the World Series) and continuing to run the popular Panhandles, Carr was about to start the job he was destined for. Although he didn't know what the future held for his "aging" team, what he did know was that he wanted to be at the forefront of developing a new professional football league. The year 1920 would see a landmark meeting in sports history, changing the course of the sport, and the life of Joe Carr forever.
fter spending the holidays with his family, Carr quickly turned his thoughts toward organizing a new professional football league. He knew it was time. In early January, Carr traveled south by train to the small city of Martins Ferry, Ohio, to visit an old friend. J. Francis Mul- laney, a foreman at the local tin plant, was also a sports promoter from the city who was known for booking exhibitions with Major League Baseball teams for his hometown. Carr spent a full day speaking about putting together a professional football league and came away with a good feeling that it could be done. Several newspapers in Ohio wrote about this meeting, but it was the Massillon (Ohio) Evening Independent on January 8 that gave Carr the headline he was looking for.
Joe Carr Plans Pro Grid League; Tigers on List
Massillon will draw a berth in a new professional football league which J
oe Carr, for years manager of the Columbus Panhandles, is now trying to swing, according to reports emulating from Martins Ferry where Carr is now in conference with J. F. Mullaney, football promoter in the southern Ohio city, in an effort to draw up plans for the proposed league.
According to the report cities to be included in the league would be Columbus, Cleveland, Canton, Akron, Dayton, Toledo, Massillon, Cincinnati and Fort Wayne, Ind. It is proposed to put the Panhandles and Pitcarin (PA) Quakers on the circuit as road teams.'
Carr looked to use the core franchises of the Ohio League to help build his football league, and he envisioned his Panhandles as a traveling team in this new setup. But after hearing the news of a potential pro football league, the National Collegiate Athletic Association, at its annual winter meeting, made its own headlines by telling its former players to stay away from the pro game. The Western Conference adopted a rule that stated any football letter winner who participates in professional football would have his letter rescinded. Speaking at the conference, famous college coach Glenn "Pop" Warner, who coached Jim Thorpe at Carlisle and was currently the head coach at Stanford University, put down the pro game even more: "Football should not be encouraged as a professional sport, because it is not adapted to it. Football requires strict supervision to keep down abuses, needs skilled, well-trained players and pure spirit. Professional football would have a harder time embodying all those essentials than a college team. Soccer is an ideal sport for professional players and I would not be surprised to see it more generally approved when it is introduced to the strong holds of the professional Rugby game."2