The positive elements of Cobb’s life were indicative of a man entering a world of heightened celebrity, but due to his penchant for violence, he still had to step before a judge and answer for his alleged criminalities in the George Stanfield matter. That case advanced a great deal just before Game Seven of the 1909 World Series, when the Grand Jury in Cleveland indicted Cobb on a charge of “stabbing to wound.” Facing up to twenty years in the penitentiary, he was being sought by way of extradition, but Detroit team owner Frank Navin pulled his trump card to protect his star. He hired Robert E. McKisson, the former Mayor of Cleveland and a well-connected local defense attorney. McKisson was politically powerful, wise to the law, and used “every technicality” to keep Cobb out of jail.14
Cobb had little other choice but to appear in a Cleveland courtroom on October 20, 1909, and pleaded not guilty. After agreeing to stand trial on November 22 and posting a $500 bond, he was released, but a significant problem was apparent. His witness list included a handful of Detroit Tiger teammates, many of whom were in Cuba for an exhibition series led by Matty McIntyre. McKisson asked for a continuance, but was denied. Despite the bad news, Cobb was confident. “If there any attempt to compromise, I don’t think it will come from our side,” he told a reporter.15
A few days later, Cobb was in New York, and his legal worries were off his mind … at least temporarily. He was in town to join a fifty-car procession from that city to Atlanta, in a “Good Roads” endurance jaunt. Behind the wheel of “Old Reliable,” a Chalmers-Detroit “30,” he was accompanied by several sportswriters, and despite the good-natured sentiment of the event, he was as competitive as ever.16 At one juncture in Pennsylvania, he yelled at a driver in front of him because of his “blocking” techniques. “I figure you’re trying to show me up,” Cobb said to his adversary in an example of early twentieth century road rage, “and if you do it again, I’m going to run this car right through you.” The driver in front of Cobb, who reportedly caused the uproar, said his actions were unintentional. He invited Cobb to dinner to signify peace, but Cobb declined. The other driver said, “I’m glad there are no spikes on Cobb’s car, or it might go bad for me.”17 Once out from behind the slowpoke, he made a point to be the first automobile into the various stops on the route, including Roanoke, Virginia, and Greenville, South Carolina.
Charlotte, North Carolina, received Cobb on October 30, and people were mightily impressed by the athlete. “He wears a smile mostly,” the local paper reported. “He’s a happy citizen with a fine disposition.” Kids watched him from the sidewalk in admiration, while adults moved closer to shake his hand. Cobb was accommodating. He was sociable and friendly, demonstrative of his growth as a public figure.18 He understood that he had a certain responsibility to show his face and mingle amongst the crowd, seeing that most of the populace was there to see him. On November 2, 1909, Cobb raced into Royston, a few hours ahead of his “Good Roads” cohorts, and was celebrated like a conquering hero.19
Not long after arriving home, Cobb was summoned to visit with President William H. Taft, who was spending time in Augusta, and the two exchanged pleasantries at the local country club on the morning of November 8. Taft was in the midst of a major Southern tour, and the meeting was set up by Taft’s top military aide, Captain Archibald Butt, a native Augustan and friend of Cobb.20 President Taft, incidentally, had only days earlier expressed his support for Cobb in his pending legal strife at Cleveland, telling a Savannah, Georgia, crowd that Cobb was “being made the victim of a damnable conspiracy.” He continued: “I hope that the Georgia bar will rush to his defense and by a writ of habeas corpus, if no other means is available, restore him to the people whom he loves and who love him.”21 Admitting Cobb was more popular in Georgia than he was, President Taft wished him “all the success in the world,” and Cobb graciously appreciated the Commander-in-Chief’s kind words.
With the President’s vote of confidence bolstering his ego, Cobb returned to Cleveland for the Stanfield trial on November 22, but a protracted court drama was avoided. Prosecutors realized it had little evidence to find him guilty in a “stabbing to wound” case, and authorized the levy of a lesser charge, assault and battery. Cobb and his lawyers agreed to plead guilty and Judge Willis Vickery had the last word, saying: “Legally, Stanfield had no right to strike Cobb. Stanfield was the aggressor. The court is very willing to accept this plea.” Cobb was fined $100 and released, though he would have to pay it later.22 The ugliness of the entire situation was cleaned up rather quietly, and Cobb had Navin to thank for the latter’s exhaustive efforts in providing and paying for a top-flight legal defense.23
“It is over now,” Navin told Cobb in a letter, “and I hope it will prove a good lesson to you.”24 Whether that sentiment would bear out remained to be seen, but relations between the two were at an all-time high. In fact, shortly after the 1909 season, Cobb was given a three-year contract by Navin with the salary figure left blank, and he signed it without hesitation. Navin then revealed his annual salary, and Cobb was altogether pleased. The terms of the contract were not revealed, and in March 1910, the press began to circulate that Cobb was to receive $9,000 per year. Cobb denied it, likely to keep any animosity from building up with lesser-paid teammates. The $9,000 rate was accurate, however.25 It seemed that the previous lack of faith the two had for each other was gone, and the maneuverings of Navin in the Cleveland case literally preserved Cobb’s baseball playing future by keeping him out of jail. “[Navin] has shown me he is my friend and in such ways that I realize I can’t very well repay him except to always speak well of him and work my head off for him,” Cobb explained.26
The prompt end of the Cleveland trial gave Cobb time to catch a hunting expedition headed down the Savannah River, made up of his brother Paul, his father-in-law R. O. Lombard, major leaguer Tommy McMillan, and several others.27 Cobb also hunted with Bud Sharpe on George T. Stallings’ Haddock, Georgia, plantation and, based on their growing friendship stemming from the recent World Series, coordinated an outdoors venture with Honus Wagner. Wagner, however, was not impressed by the action in Georgia, and left after a few days, disappointed by Cobb’s emphatic boasting about local hunting prospects. “Cobb is one of the most genial gentlemen I ever met, but there are two things we will never agree on, game and baseball.”28
Nevertheless, Cobb’s major league leading batting average gave him an edge over Wagner, and on December 28, 1909, he was awarded the prized George “Honey Boy” Evans Trophy in recognition of his achievement. Evans appeared in his black-faced costume. The Opera House musicians performed “Dixie” for Cobb, much to the delight of the audience.29 Briefly speaking before the audience at the Augusta Opera House, he reiterated that any personal accomplishments were secondary to his task of helping the Detroit franchise win in the pennant race.30 A little over two weeks later, he was again called to the forefront to speak at a YMCA banquet in his honor, and Cobb was similarly bashful, cutting his comments short. He told the crowd that he didn’t want to appear self-centered, so he was going to refrain from talking about baseball and admitted that he garnered awards in the sport, not through pure athletic talent, but by luck. It was a significant comment because in years past, he discounted luck as a factor in his success.31
The biggest happening of the off-season was certainly the most personal to Cobb and his family. On January 30, 1910, Ty and Charlie welcomed their first child, Tyrus Raymond Cobb Jr., a bouncing nine-pounder, born at “The Oaks” south of Augusta.32 Cobb was relentlessly proud, talking about his son every chance he got. He told journalists that the first thing Ty Jr. ever held was a baseball and bragged of his strength when he was just two months old. “He’s so strong that he can stand up alone,” Cobb announced, full of pride. “Of course, someone has to balance him, but he can hold himself upright on his legs.”33 Reporters already had young Cobb headed for the baseball diamond like his dad.34
Cobb was known to overload his schedule during the winter months and, in early 1910
, he was solidly tied to his new auto business in Augusta. As the licensed agent for the Hupp Motor Company of Detroit, selling the Hupmobile and maintaining an active garage, he was incredibly busy.35 He was up to his neck in sales and repairs, and didn’t bat an eye as other members of the Detroit club ventured to San Antonio for spring training in March. His hunting exploits and supplemental work at Warren Park kept him in shape, Cobb believed, and the need to travel to Texas was minimized in effort to safeguard his investment. He never liked spring training anyway, but this time he had real justification to remain in Georgia. That was his point of view, at least.
Navin, Hugh Jennings, his teammates, and the press saw it differently. Navin, the capitalist, was antsy about the box office money he was losing all over the South because Cobb, the big draw, was absent.36 Jennings, the manager, was searching for synergy in the field and in his lineup, but the hole created by his outfielder was too troublesome to ignore. Jennings was irritated by Cobb’s absence, and kept getting false reports about when Cobb would arrive in San Antonio. Cobb didn’t blame his manager for being mad, but did not seem to rush his arrival.37 His teammates were taking daily practice and playing assorted exhibitions as called for by club officials. They were putting in the work day in and day out, while the mighty King Cobb was conveniently elsewhere, avoiding crummy hotels and backwater towns. He was a bit too big for his britches, some of his fellow players were coming to realize. The media was getting the same impression and the notion that Cobb was a “prima donna” was becoming more accepted as true.38
Cobb was laboring to get his affairs in order, and part of his mission was to sell off his business interests before leaving Augusta. “The auto selling game is nothing for a ball player because it gets good just when he should be reporting and making ready to earn his baseball salary,” he explained.39 Once a deal was made removing his automobile burden, Cobb headed for Evansville, Indiana, to meet up with one faction of the team on April 8. He was not oblivious to the fact that his actions were unfair to the team, but felt his timely hitting and rounded performance on the diamond would more than make up for his absence.
The loss of a third-straight World Series didn’t demoralize Detroit as one might imagine, but for whatever reason, the Tigers were in poor shape in early competition in 1910. They were beaten in exhibitions by teams in Mobile and Memphis and lacked offensive firepower. Cobb’s explosive hitting and base-running refreshed the lineup and, during the second week of the season, the Tigers advanced into first place and remained there until May 6. He was stealing bases regularly, hitting to all parts of the field, and led his team on an 11-game winning streak. However, one of the most important aspects of the season came by way of a defensive switch. Jennings, in mid-May, decided to return Cobb to centerfield, where he played in 1905 and ’06, placing Sam Crawford in his natural right-field slot, and alternating Davy Jones and Matty McIntyre in left.40
In late May, the Tigers were blazing hot, playing their best ball of the year so far, and were a couple of games out of first. But a strange thing happened in Washington, D.C. Cobb told a reporter there that Detroit was essentially out of the pennant race, and that the Philadelphia Athletics were headed for the championship. “Everything points that way,” he said, “but I still believe that we have the better ball team. Fate seems to have decreed that no team shall win four pennants in a row.”41 Logic was on Cobb’s side to a certain extent, but on the other hand, he was causing irreparable damage to the spirit of the club. And because of his words and actions through the rest of the season, another serious contention was made about Cobb, not only seriously harming his reputation, but once again cracking the foundation of team unity.
Notably, 1910 was a unique year for Organized Baseball, specifically because the Chalmers-Detroit Motor Company offered up a brand new Chalmers “30” to the best batter in the majors. Players and fans alike were delighted by the added touch to the already sensational annual competition and, needless to say, Cobb was caught up in the excitement. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say he took the batting fight to be a personal challenge, and was ready to test his deepest determination for the sake of the goal. As a result, his team cooperation was risked for the sake of individual honors, setting a reckless course for not only himself, but his teammates.
Fellow Tigers could sense Cobb’s ambition, and winning the car was first and foremost. Some were still mad about his spring training avoidance and there was a general feeling that Detroit management looked the other way when issues concerned the Georgian star. He was doing a few other things to invoke an essence of loftiness, including arriving to the clubhouse after scheduled games had begun.42 His actions continued to go unpunished, whereas if another player had committed the rule violations, there would have been the normal monetary fines imposed, at the very least. Jennings, more than anyone else, had yielded to Cobb’s temperament and allowed the player to govern himself. That had been his policy since taking over the club.43 But it was obvious Cobb was taking additional liberties and subtly throwing his weight around.
Cobb was aware of the statistical numbers for the batting championship on a day-to-day basis and, the tighter it became, the more he felt the squeeze on the field. The pressure turned his tightly woven personality into one that was nearly intolerable. Davy Jones and Donie Bush, the two men ahead of him in the lineup, received the worst of his wrath, and Sam Crawford, in the clean-up position, also had to deal with his rage. Cobb’s frustrations were generally spawned by the belief that Jones and Bush were not cooperating with him, working the hit-and-run, and following his lead. He wanted them helping him at all times, and then for Crawford to further his advancement around the bases. When Jones and Bush didn’t produce offensively or failed to watch him instead of Jennings for last-second sign changes, Cobb was known to go ballistic. Arguments ensued, but most of the time, it was better to let him vent.44
Things between Cobb and Bush and Crawford were already estranged from a previous quarrel. Sometime during the 1909 season, he laid into the 5’6” Bush with heightened ferocity, and verbally lashed out at him for whatever Cobb thought deserved the attack. Crawford heard enough from Cobb with regard to Bush, and stepped in to protect the shortstop. Crawford reportedly threatened to slap Cobb if he continued to harass Bush.45 Insulted by the intrusion into his private business, Cobb stopped talking to Crawford altogether, a reoccurring method Cobb used to demonstrate hostility in his life. The silence extended to Bush as well, and created an unhealthy dynamic for the Tigers franchise. To him, Crawford and Bush existed in the world around him, but he would offer zero personal acknowledgment to either one. In the outfield, Cobb and Crawford relied mostly on their own expectations of what the other would do in any given situation, and then reacted accordingly.
Cobb’s wicked stubbornness wasn’t anything new. Once he was crossed—or at least perceived that he was crossed—there was no getting around it. His feelings for Crawford and Bush only served to exacerbate his 1910 frustrations, especially when getting the vibe that he was again isolated from the team’s majority, akin to his first couple of years in the majors. Rather than sorting the situation out and shaking hands with his coworkers to put it all behind them for the sake of the team, he perpetuated the feud and tended to make things worse.
Fed up by what he felt was Bush’s ineptitude in front of him in the lineup, Cobb protested vehemently, and pundits have since assumed that Jennings, who was caught in the crossfire, decided to once again bend the needs of the team to conform to Cobb’s whims. It was no secret that Jennings wanted Bush batting second. The shortstop was proficient in getting on base, leading the league in walks in 1910 with 78, and was quick, amassing 49 stolen bases.46 But it wasn’t enough for Cobb, and Jennings finally caved, shifting Bush first to seventh, and then up to sixth in the lineup in July. The move might have pleased Cobb temporarily, but his moodiness was seemingly beyond repair. About ten days later, his irrational aggravations climaxed in a game against Boston, and Jones, the club’s f
aithful leadoff man, became his central target of criticism.47
On August 2, 1910, versus the Red Sox, Cobb had an unusually poor day in a 4–3 loss. Across the diamond from him was twenty-two-year-old Tris Speaker, a magnificent outfielder and a contender for batting honors, along with Cleveland’s Nap Lajoie. Boston newspapers had rightfully touted Speaker and many comparisons were made to Cobb. For that reason, Cobb was itching to perform well, but after left-hander Ray Collins left him hitless, he became “meaner than the devil himself,” Jones later recounted.48 Herman Nickerson of the Boston Journal also indicated that Cobb may have “loafed” on a key drive by Red Sox first baseman Jake Stahl, adding to the overall miserable showing by the Georgian.49 Mentally thwarted, Cobb raged at Jones for missing a hit-and-run sign and caused a huge uproar after the game. Jones spoke about this incident some years later, and recalled that Cobb was foiled by Collins’ pitching. After yelling at Jones about the missed signal, Cobb, who was at bat, refused to play any further and returned to the bench. Another player, Jones claimed, went in to bat for him. Jones added he was the “fall guy” in the situation, taking the blame for Cobb’s inability to hit Collins. However, there is no evidence that Cobb returned to the bench and that another player went to bat for him.50
Not one to let things go, Cobb harbored resentment for Jones through an off day, and then removed himself from the lineup in protest on August 4 versus Boston, refusing to play if Davy was in the game.51 Though initially passed off as a stomach ailment, Cobb’s tantrum left him utterly alone. Jennings held his ground in this matter and didn’t bow to Cobb by removing Jones.52 A Detroit Free Press correspondent wrote that it was “absurd” to remove a man from the lineup who was helping the club win (Jones) “merely to satisfy the whim of another.” There was clearly “room for both” on the team. Teammates, management, and sportswriters all knew Cobb was acting irrational, allowing his emotions to get the best of him.53 In response, President Navin said he “took the only possible position in the affair in allowing Cobb to convince himself that he was wrong,” he explained. “Cobb acted hastily. The same temperament that makes him a great ball player renders him liable to lose his temper quickly. If he were less impetuous, he would be less valuable to the club.”54
War on the Basepaths Page 16