War on the Basepaths

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War on the Basepaths Page 17

by Tim Hornbaker


  Cobb missed two games, both victories for the Tigers, and he apparently did some soul searching in his free time. Pondering deeply, he concluded that he was the one off base in the matter, just like Navin hoped, and freely admitted his mistakes. The Detroit Free Press indicated that he was “sorry” for an angry remark he made, likely toward Jones, and was ready to put everything behind him. Navin added: “He is a youngster, hardly more than a boy, and comes from a section of the country where pride is strong. I am sorry that the affair ever came up, and glad that Cobb has been courageous enough to recede from a position that made him ridiculous. The management harbors no resentment toward him, and hopes that the fans will be equally willing to overlook a mistaken action, the result of a momentary loss of temper.”55

  A section of Detroit’s left-field bleachers were anything but forgiving and criticized Cobb relentlessly in the latter’s first game back on August 6. He did his best to ignore the abusive taunts, going 2-for-3 with two stolen bases against New York.56 But the insults continued nearly unabated from the first inning until the end of the game, pushing the already distraught Cobb until he literally snapped. He rushed toward the bleachers in a haze of madness and focused his energy on an African American man, who was one of his most vocal critics. Police quickly broke up the melee, and the Detroit Free Press stated Cobb was “a Southerner, born and bred, and naturally [held] ideas of his own regarding the right of a colored man to abuse him in public.” Cobb searched for his bullies following the game, yearning to inflict a little punishment of his own, but the loudmouths had wisely departed in a hurry.57

  Putting aside the clubhouse turmoil, there were a number of exciting moments in 1910 for Cobb. On June 18, he snagged a liner and touched off a triple play versus Boston.58 At Washington, he homered in the 11th inning on August 25, which ultimately won the game and, toward the end of the season, garnered four hits against St. Louis on October 2. His speed and base-running feats were commonly a thrill for fans in all league parks, and he was headed for the highest batting average of his career. Plus, despite the presumptions about his solitary motivation, Cobb often got into the coaching box to encourage teammates on the bases.59 But, nevertheless, Detroit fell more than ten games out of the pennant chase in July and were never in serious contention again.

  “Even if we admit that a fourth pennant is now beyond us,” a journalist for the Detroit Free Press wrote, “we can still live in hope that Ty Cobb will bring home the automobile.”60 And so went the focus of a majority of Detroit’s supporters to the batting title and the battle between Cobb and Lajoie tightened. The physical health of Cobb was questioned when, during the first part of September, he was afflicted by an eye ailment and nearly two weeks of duties were affected. Newspapers ran wild theories and prognoses for his future in baseball, and none were even close to being accurate. It was determined that Cobb was a bit nearsighted in his right eye, though he considered it more of an inflammation problem.61 He made his return, and by October 8, was leading by a little less than ten points with a .383 average. Only two games remained, and he was confident enough to break away from Detroit’s final series with Chicago to end his season prematurely. Cobb missed the weekend games at Chicago on October 8–9, 1910. Detroit lost the first contest, but won the second. Hugh E. Keough of the Chicago Daily Tribune called Cobb a “quitter” for abandoning his team and Cobb received similar condemnation from fans in Detroit. The Tigers would finish in third place with an 86–68 record, 18 games behind the Philadelphia Athletics.62

  Cobb’s gamesmanship was obvious as he sought to protect his average, and the burden was on Lajoie to put forth a superhuman effort in Cleveland’s final two games, a doubleheader at St. Louis on October 9. Amazingly enough, that’s exactly what he did, going 4-for-4 in each of the two games, and finishing with a triumphant .385 average. Initial press reports proclaimed Lajoie the American League batting champion, and because his numbers surpassed the National League titleholder, he was to be awarded the Chalmers “30” auto.63 In the meantime, however, details of the games in St. Louis were expounded upon by sportswriters, and a number of controversial allegations were made. The most colorful was the theory that members of the Browns laid down to Lajoie’s batting, allowing him to get on base each time he was up.64

  Part-time third baseman John “Red” Corriden, a twenty-three-year-old rookie for St. Louis, played along the edge of the outfield grass each time the right-handed Lajoie came to bat.65 His defensive stance was in preparation for quick-moving liners in his direction. But Lajoie smartly took advantage of Corriden’s positioning, successfully bunting seven times to the left side of the pitcher during the two games. Even though Corriden and St. Louis manager Jack O’Connor watched Lajoie bunt time after time, neither reevaluated the strategy to combat him because they were still worrying about hot shots down the line. Their inaction caused many sportswriters to cast doubt on the legitimacy of Lajoie’s success. Corriden explained that he didn’t want to get killed by a Lajoie drive by playing in too close. “I didn’t give [Lajoie] anything,” he told a reporter in response to the question of whether he laid down to the Clevelander. “I don’t favor him a bit over Cobb.”66

  “I was surprised when I read of the result of the [St. Louis] games in the papers,” Cobb told the media, “and am sorry that either Lajoie or myself did not win the prize for the highest average without anything occurring which could cause unfavorable comment. I am not prepared to make any charges against either Lajoie or members of the St. Louis team.”67

  The overall appearance of crookedness sparked an inquiry by American League President Ban Johnson, but he rather quickly absolved Corriden and O’Connor of any wrongdoing.68 However, O’Connor was released as manager of the Browns in the aftermath of the controversy. Scout Harry Howell, who was said to have tried to influence the official scorer in St. Louis during the doubleheader versus Cleveland, in an effort to aid Lajoie, was let go as well. Years later, Lajoie said: “The [St. Louis] players were in my corner. At any rate, they didn’t try any too hard to get me out.”69 Contemporary versions of this story have often included statements explaining a certain sentiment amongst ballplayers, generally favoring Lajoie over Cobb in sort of a popularity contest. While it is difficult to prove either way, it is not unlikely.70 In the main interest of lessening the embarrassment to Organized Baseball, Johnson ordered a complete review of all statistics relating to Lajoie and Cobb, and a few days later, the official ruling of the American League was released. Cobb, by mere points, was announced as the winner of the championship, and, in turn, the Chalmers automobile. His average was .384944 (rounded to .385) compared to Lajoie’s .384084. Johnson also, in his diligence to give the story a happy ending, approved the offer by the Chalmers Motor Company to give Lajoie an auto as well, effectively wrapping things up without a volcano of public resentment.

  “I am quite satisfied,” Lajoie was quoted as saying. “I am glad that the controversy is over. I have the greatest respect for Cobb as a batter and am glad of his success.”71

  “I am simply delighted, delighted, delighted!” Cobb said after being told of Johnson’s decision. “Is it really true? I can scarcely believe it. I am glad that I won because I worked hard to be the champion batsman of the two leagues, but it is equally pleasing to know that Larry will get a machine, too. The rivalry between us was very keen, but it was of a most friendly character so far as I am concerned.”72 Cobb sent Lajoie a letter, saying: “Of all the congratulatory telegrams I received over winning the championship, yours was the most appreciated. I was very much elated when I heard I had won the batting honor, but more so when I learned that you would also receive an auto. You justly deserve it.”73

  Seventy years and six months after Johnson confirmed Cobb the 1910 batting champion, The Sporting News published a series of new research findings, and altered the way the entire championship competition was viewed historically. In essence, the publication declared Lajoie the rightful winner of the 1910 title based on several n
oteworthy discrepancies, including the elimination of an extra 2-for-3 hitting performance credited to Cobb that was found to be false. The new data gave Lajoie a .383 average, bettering Cobb’s .382, and named him the indisputable batting king. The 13-member Baseball Records Committee reviewed the documentation and put forth the information to Commissioner Bowie Kuhn, but he, along with American League President Lee MacPhail, rejected any update to the official records.74

  In a 1981 statement, Kuhn affirmed Ban Johnson’s investigation and mentioned the “passage of seventy years” as constituting a “certain statute of limitation as to recognizing any changes in the records with confidence of the accuracy of such changes.” Although the official records have not been changed, most modern publications either recognize Lajoie outright as the 1910 batting champion or include an asterisk, highlighting the differences between the sanctioned data and the independent research on the matter.75

  Sportswriters looking for avenues to scrutinize the Tigers following the disappointing 1910 season began to harp on the play of Sam Crawford. At thirty years old, Crawford was still one of the great sluggers in baseball. He led the majors in triples (19) and ranked first in the American League in RBIs (120), in addition to being third in extra base hits. His .289 average was less than desirable, according to critics, and Crawford felt the need to respond in defense of his reputation. “I have played my level best for Detroit all season,” he explained, “and I know of no reason why I should be censured. If the truth be known, Detroit’s showing this year is not the direct result of poor playing, but because there is not the harmony on the team there should be.

  “I have noticed repeatedly that the club caters to Cobb more than to any other player; if he reports late or misses an inning or two, little is said. I vouch that if I did the same thing I would be reprimanded right. This is the club’s business, however, but I wish to show that others are to be criticized instead of me being singled out as responsible for the club’s poor showing this year.”76 Crawford stated that Cobb’s concentration in the fight for the batting title made him “forget team play and look only for base hits. This spoiled teamwork as a result.” Simply, there was “too much Cobb.”77

  Who could disagree? But of all the gripes about Cobb’s motives and temper, he took issue with one accusation more to heart than the rest. And that was the claim of him being self-centered. “The reason they thought I was swell-headed,” Cobb said, “was because I didn’t understand human nature and my success came too quickly. I was afraid that people would say I was swelled up and I tried to be a good fellow with the other players so as to change their opinion. Instead of that having the desired effect, the players thought I was fresh. If I had kept to myself at first and had not tried to be a mixer I would have done better. I guess I got familiar too soon. Many a time have I walked out to the outfield stoop-shouldered so as to keep the fans from thinking I was cocky or swelled up. I dread being called swell-headed worse than any other one thing. Really, it hurts me.”78

  Regardless of his statements to the press to the contrary, or the image he wanted to convey, sportswriters and fans continued to depict Cobb as a raging, conceited baseball fiend; a man who was so outlandish that he’d willingly hurt rivals with his spikes. The idea that Cobb and his colorful Cobb persona were being exploited by newspapermen to sell papers apparently never crossed anyone’s mind. When he spoke in interviews or gave speeches, he was the opposite of arrogant. In fact, he was meek and bashful. No one wanted sound reason from Cobb, as they preferred a snarling crazy man. During one spring training appearance in Texas, fans were actually shocked that he was just a humble young man and not a “fire-breathing monster,” which, based on the image concocted by writers, they expected to see.79

  Unquestionably, Cobb was doing much to earn a certain level of criticism from teammates, especially by missing most spring training and arriving late to games. There was no way to explain his behavior. If Detroit was ever to come together again as a unit and challenge for a pennant, he needed to make a number of serious adjustments. Otherwise, the “Cobb Show” was going to persist, and his coworkers were going to stand by as he performed his customary magic at the plate and on the bases. In that case, it was no longer a team game, but a day-to-day demonstration of his otherworldly skill. Some games he’d be good enough to win by himself, but most of the time, as baseball is known, nine men were needed for victory. And the lack of cooperation would prevent any significant improvement in morale.

  Cobb had to get back to a place where his love of the game was more evident than anything else, both in the clubhouse and on the field. His determination for the Chalmers automobile in 1910 clouded his judgment as far as team play was concerned, and fractured the confidence of fellow Tigers in his ability to fight for one solitary goal: to win for the fans of Detroit. Mending that perception was his challenge going into 1911, and rehabilitating his standing with Crawford, Bush, Jones, and the rest was not only on his mind, but on the minds of enthusiasts across Tigerland. The future prospects of the team depended on it. Cobb’s stubbornness, unfortunately, would prove it a difficult road to travel.

  8

  THE PSYCHOLOGICAL ADVANTAGE

  A player of superstitions and routines, Ty Cobb was heavily invested in the psychological aspects of baseball. His concentration extended to all facets of his game, from the way he approached the plate to his scrutiny of opposing pitchers. His belief in jinxes and omens ran parallel to many of his contemporaries, which meant it was pretty important to his day-to-day outlook. At times he sought mythic remedies for poor play, placing a horseshoe on his bats before a game or whipping the umpire’s broom from one side to the other.1 Not surprising, the maneuver didn’t always work. For instance, after chucking the ump’s broom from the left side of the plate to right prior to an at-bat in 1910, he was hit by a pitch.2 During another game, he joined manager Hugh Jennings in dumping out a barrel full of drinking water from the dugout so they could refill it with bottled spring water, apparently believing in its special revitalizing effects.

  Heading onto the field for a plate appearance, Cobb was highly ritualistic. He wielded three bats at first, and then dropped one as he approached the batter’s box. The remaining two were his customized J. F. Hillerich Company model and a weathered black variety, a consequential weapon in his arsenal. Cobb called his black bat his “hit-getter and voodoo bat,” and was considered the “pride of the great Cobb’s life.”3 However, after wearing thin from overuse, the black bat was never officially used again. He instead held it as part of his mental and physical preparation. Cobb would initially swing both bats, but gently released the black a second before steadying himself in the box and awaiting the first pitch. To complete his routine, he always yanked down his ball cap a bit and tugged up his pants.4 Additionally, journalist Frank P. Sibley wrote that Cobb whacked the base of his cleats with his bat to clear any dirt, and also tapped the plate before readying himself for a pitch.5 At that point—and only at that point—was he ready to glare outward at the pitcher.

  There were many varieties of baseball superstitions. Some batters enjoying a healthy streak of hitting refused to launder their uniform, regardless of how dirty it became. Others felt if bats were accidentally crossed for whatever reason, a bad omen was created; also if a player stood at the plate with the barrel of his bat facing downward, he was sure to expect a poor result.6 Cobb’s theories and superstitions played a significant role in his baseball career, and if understood at the time, would have explained much about his perceived erratic behavior.

  Getting a full night’s sleep was a priority for Cobb and seeing that he was less likely to perform up to his standards without it, he was all too ready to miss any morning practice to achieve maximum rest. In fact, he avoided any pre-game workouts to preserve his strength. It wasn’t that he was shunning the ordeal because he was full of himself, but that he played better if all his energy was conserved for the game itself. And since he wasn’t going to practice prior to the gam
e anyway, he didn’t see the importance in showing up until his thoroughly rested frame absolutely needed to be there. Cobb’s longtime friend Kenneth Stambaugh revealed that for a time, Cobb’s pre-game ritual included stretching out on his hotel bed and playing records on a portable phonograph machine. The works of violinist Fritz Kreisler were amongst his favorites, and helped settle his nerves.7 In some cases, it was minutes before “play ball” was called, and other occasions it was after the contest already started. Cobb had his own way of looking at the game, and it wasn’t so much that he was purely arrogant, just ritualistic in his preparations.

  Once locked into the mindset of competition, Cobb was a machine in the way he focused and worked to achieve his goals. Bill Coughlin, who played with him early in his Detroit tenure, said: “Cobb was smart. Instead of kidding when he came in from the field, he would sit in a corner of the dugout and watch the pitcher every minute. Then, when he got on base, he knew exactly how to proceed. That helped him immensely in stealing so many bases.”8 His quiet and concentrated nature was amongst his early secrets to success, and his ample studying garnered plenty of inside knowledge of players throughout the league. It wasn’t until he got a little older that he mustered the courage to verbally joust with rivals and even members of the audience.

 

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