Baseball in the “Dead Ball Era,” a period beginning around 1900, was full of colorful performers, striking athletes, and spirited play. Strategy rather than slugging was the priority of teams across the majors, and games were more often won by a mixture of smart base-running and sacrifices than by homers. Interestingly, the ball itself was literally considered “dead” because umpires refused to swap out the orb until it was in absolutely no condition to be used any further. Balls were pummeled mercilessly and were sometimes losing stitches and misshapen while still in the field of play. Needless to say, those balls lacked the velocity of newer ones, and many drives that would normally have been hit out of the park were caught by fielders.
The reason for hanging onto the battered balls was purely monetary, as it saved cash for club owners to keep them in use for as long as possible. Cobb, when he felt a ball was damaged, was known to request a new one from the umpire during a game. He was sometimes refused. On July 21, 1911, in the ninth inning of a contest against New York, he displayed a flattened ball to umpire John Egan. Egan checked it over, but thought it was suitable to continue. Cobb raged in response, kicking up dust, and was subsequently thrown out of the game. He didn’t leave the field and dugout quietly. Instead, he tossed bats, and verbalized his anger for minutes before finally relenting.9
Balls during the “Dead Ball Era” were also affected by all sorts of legal tricks employed by cunning pitchers. Russell Ford of the New York Highlanders went 26–6 in 1910 utilizing the “emery ball,” a type of pitch created by scuffing or cutting the exterior of the ball. The “shine ball” materialized by generating a smooth spot on the ball’s surface, and Cobb’s former Augustan teammate Eddie Cicotte would gain great fame using that method. The “spitball” was yet another “freak delivery,” and Chicago White Sox hurler Ed Walsh brilliantly doctored the ball with saliva or tobacco juice to create, at times, a virtually unhittable pitch.10 In 1908, he won 40 games and was the last pitcher to do so. Cobb’s challenge as a hitter was to not only decipher the array of atypical pitches, but to handle the complete repertoire of regular “stuff” thrown by future Hall of Famers including Rube Waddell, Addie Joss, Cy Young, and others.
Playing for the Cleveland Bronchos-Naps from 1902 to 1910, Joss had great respect for Cobb as a hitter and comically told a journalist in 1908 that he didn’t mind if Cobb remained out of Detroit’s lineup. Cobb, at the time, was going through a holdout with Tigers management. Joss said, “I can get along just as well with him off the team.”11
Following the 1910 season, Cobb joined an All-Star team managed by Jimmy McAleer and selected to warm up Connie Mack’s Philadelphia Athletics for their World Series contest against the Chicago Cubs.12 In addition, he received a $1,400 payday by Publisher John B. Townsend of the Philadelphia Press to provide expert coverage of the Series itself. With the experience of writing for the Atlanta Journal under his belt, Cobb took an active role in the creation of the articles, and insisted that it was his voice represented, not the lone comments of a ghost writer. He would subsequently work with sportswriter George E. “Stoney” McLinn and translate his copious notes from each of the games into professional articles, syndicated to more than twenty newspapers. McLinn recalled that Cobb wasn’t a “prima donna,” and was “eager to cooperate.” Cobb also contributed at least one article for the Metropolitan News Syndicate.13
On October 18 in Philadelphia, he was presented with his new Chalmers automobile for winning the batting title. He drove his car around the field at Shibe Park as the audience cheered. Lajoie, however, was unable to be present to receive his car.14
Before heading southward with his wife and son in his new Chalmers “30,” Cobb took the opportunity to thank one of his most important mentors. Herman “Germany” Schaefer had been his teacher and friend for a number of years, and Cobb admitted, “If it were not for Schaefer’s interest in me, I would not have made myself the ballplayer I am.” Displaying his gratitude, he gave Schaefer his old automobile as a gift, and acknowledged the “many kindnesses” he exhibited through the years.15
Cobb agreed to participate in a best two-out-of-three heats auto race against his fellow Georgian, Nap Rucker, a pitcher for the Brooklyn National League franchise, at the Atlanta Speedway beginning on November 3, 1910.16 But following the death of driver Al Livingstone, at the same track, two days before, Tigers President Frank Navin wired an immediate termination of those plans. He was too concerned about Cobb’s well-being to let the race occur, but Bill Nye, manager of the Speedway, lashed out at Cobb, claiming the latter had a “yellow streak” for pulling out. Nye also believed Cobb refused to drive because the money wasn’t satisfactory. Cobb, of course, didn’t take Nye’s words sitting down, and the two loudly argued.17 The risk was unnecessary, Cobb concluded, and although he enjoyed the speed, there was no reason to jeopardize his life, especially with his wife pregnant with their second child. Incidentally, Cobb did do a few speed laps at the Indianapolis Raceway on April 4, 1911, in a National “40” roadster.18
A tour of Cuba’s baseball fields was planned for the off-season, led by pitcher George Mullin and this time Cobb agreed to join his teammates.19 Sam Crawford, George Moriarty, Tom Jones, Charlie O’Leary, catcher Oscar Stanage, and even ex-Tiger Herman Schaefer took part in the 12-game series against the Habana and Almendares clubs.20 Almost expectedly, Cobb was a late arrival to Havana, and his tardiness was blamed on business responsibilities.21 Seven games had been recorded when he appeared for the contest against Almendares on November 27, and his assistance was badly needed. Offering a homer and two base hits, he led Detroit to a 4–0 win.22 In fact, the Tigers prevailed in their last four of five games with Cobb in the lineup, and were victorious in the overall series, 7–4–1.23 Enormous crowds attended the games and Cobb’s presence attributed to the great turnout. Cobb said that the series was “great sport” and that the Cubans played “good ball.” He predicted that within two years, Cuba would be the “sporting center of the world.” Cobb also came to the defense of the Tigers when a local Georgia paper gave an unfavorable critique of their performance. He said: “Detroit played rings around [the] Cubans and would have circled more but for their lack of condition. The Cubans could not beat our fourth league teams in this country in midseason when they are in practice, and we didn’t have any trouble copping the series under adverse circumstances.”24
Cobb batted a towering .370, but his average was behind three of his competitors, John Henry Lloyd (.500), Grant Johnson (.412), and Bruce Petway (.390), each an African American playing in Cuba to enhance the local squad. The color barrier in major league baseball prevented the integration of talented black players into the everyday ranks, and the Cuban series allowed Lloyd, Johnson, Petway, and Pete Hill, all members of Negro clubs in the United States, to display their skills against their white counterparts.25 There was a measure of camaraderie during the games, even though, in Cobb’s desire to perform well, he undoubtedly flashed his famous temperament. Regardless, Lloyd told the New York Age that Cobb and his teammates were “jolly good fellows on and off the field.” It was believed that if ballots were circulated amongst white players, blacks would be admitted to the majors.26
Shortly after the holidays, the twenty-four-year-old Cobb was honored with his second “Honey Boy” Evans Trophy at Augusta’s Grand Theater.27 Spring training approached rapidly, and Jennings collected his players at the team’s new Monroe, Louisiana, camp in early March 1911. Club management was rightfully concerned about Cobb’s previous lack of interest in reporting anywhere on time, and Navin sent him several letters expressing his anxieties. The gist of his correspondence was twofold, and he wanted Cobb to know that his failure to arrive and participate in training had a demoralizing effect on the team, similar to what was caused in 1910. Secondly, gate receipts for exhibitions were going to decrease measurably if he was not in the lineup. Southern fans, he felt, wanted to see their Southern baseball superstar.28
Navin directed Cobb to be in New Or
leans for an exhibition on March 15, 1911, and Cobb respected his boss’s wishes. His emergence in a Detroit uniform was a boon for ticket sales, but the Tigers were outgunned by the New Orleans club, losing 12–3.29 The major feature of camp was the speculation and commentary of journalists as to the relations between Cobb and his teammates. The hubbub provided stirring content for excitable writers, and everyone claimed to have insider awareness of Cobb’s various feuds.30 But the environment was topsy-turvy and even those really on the inside, including manager Hugh Jennings and George Moriarty, captain of the team, were perplexed by the seemingly unforgiving attitude of several players.
Things were evolving, however, and by the end of March, the tension appeared to be lifted. Doing his part, Cobb was putting forth an extraordinary effort to smooth things over, and his bonds with Davy Jones were mended first.31 Next, the walls separating him and Donie Bush were torn down, and, soon afterward, Sporting Life noted they were “best of friends.”32 Last but not least was Cobb’s association with Sam Crawford, probably the most important player relationship on the team. The two superstars were locked into a mulish episode and neither wanted to be the first to give in. Despite their stubborn efforts to continue the rivalry, the two men began to exchange signals again on the field, and ultimately shook hands, demonstrative of the diminishing bad blood.33
The press also latched onto the gossip that Cobb was much slower than usual in his spring training performances, and, essentially, out of shape. Attributing comments to Detroit trainer Harry Tuthill, the New York Daily Tribune asserted that the outfielder had made “little progress” in three weeks of training, was feverish, and went forward to French Lick Springs in Indiana to receive medical help.34 A revelation was made a few days later at Indianapolis, and Cobb’s alleged “slowness” was said to have been caused by his wearing of the “heaviest pair of shoes” he could find.35 He was using the special footwear to build his leg muscles and improve his speed. He removed the weighted spikes and immediately began to display the old Cobb rapidity. In Cincinnati, witnesses responded to the statements that he was slowing down as being the “stuff … dreams are made of.”36 He hadn’t lost a step.
Opening the campaign with his preferred lineup, Jennings had Jones leading off followed by Bush, Cobb, and Crawford, and a fraternal spirit prevailed for the most part. Detroit took first place on the second day of the season and rampaged over its rivals, building up a nine-game advantage by mid-May.37 The entire squad was collaborating and the Tigers often capitalized on opponents’ mistakes to eke out wins. A prime example of the club’s renewed energy came on April 30 against Cleveland when, down three runs in the ninth, Detroit stormed back and won the game. E. A. Batchelor of the Detroit Free Press summed it up by writing, “There never has been a more exciting game at Bennett Park.” The 14,000 people in attendance agreed, and it was Cobb’s grounder at the finish that contributed to the result.38
Unburdened by the widespread presumption that he was only out for himself, Cobb was in tremendous form and his numbers skyrocketed. His actions on occasion were borderline unbelievable, and a Detroit sportswriter, in the aftermath of Cobb’s showing on May 12, said it was “the greatest individual exhibition ever given by a ball player.” He scored three runs and drove in two during a 6–5 win over the New York Highlanders. The game was a streaming highlight reel for Cobb, as he made play after play in remarkable fashion. In the first inning, he astonished both teams and the crowd by running from first to home on a simple base hit by Crawford. Then in the seventh, he pulled off another stunner by stealing home on catcher Jeff Sweeney.39 Batting better than .400, Cobb was headed toward the best season of his career, and became, to this day, the youngest player to achieve 1,000 hits.40
But a year in the life of Ty Cobb was not fulfilled without a notable off- the-field happening and a bit of baseball controversy. On the evening of May 22, 1911, he was relaxing just outside the Hotel Pontchartrain in Detroit when he observed a man, later identified as nineteen-year-old John Miles, exhibiting a little too much interest in his Chalmers automobile. Seconds later, Miles was in the driver’s seat and riding along Cadillac Square, making a hasty escape. Cobb, wearing his civilian attire, nimbly burst into a full stride, chasing down his car with fire in his eyes. Like something out of a modern-day action movie, he managed to hurdle himself into the auto while it was moving, turn off the engine, and proceeded to yank Miles out from behind the wheel. Police arrived within moments and arrested the thief. Cobb declined to press charges, but Miles was prosecuted anyway.41
A few weeks later, in Philadelphia, a particularly impassioned game rekindled the feud between Cobb and Frank Baker of the Athletics. The infamous incident of 1909 was thought to have been put well to rest, but in the sixth inning, after Cobb tried to steal third, members of the crowd cried foul. They vocalized their opinion that the Detroit player, once again, was out for blood in attempting to purposefully spike Baker. The Philadelphia Inquirer reported that Cobb’s spikes touched Baker’s hand in the slide, and the third baseman gave a “nice ladylike twist” to Cobb’s foot in response.42 The crowd was volcanic and a further eruption was possible. In the eighth, the exuberance of the Philadelphia audience elevated to its highest point with Cobb standing on third and looking to score. Real fireworks were about to begin.
Eddie Plank was on the mound at the time and he wanted to keep the demon of the paths hugged to the bag, so he tossed over to first. Cobb, in going back to the base, slid at Baker a second time, and the two apparently made unavoidable contact. Baker was enraged by the maneuver, and tried to kick his adversary in the leg.43 That aggression propelled Cobb into a state of fury, and the quarrel was seconds away from becoming a full-fledged duel when others stepped in to pull them apart. A segment of the crowd was incensed by the scuffle and threatened mob violence targeting Cobb. The danger was all too real, and once the game ended, Cobb was approached by a horde of angry individuals looking for some semblance of vengeance.
Appearing unruffled by the looming storm, he actually took steps toward his would-be assailants before being surrounded by teammates and police. Thousands of people were active in the chaotic display and, en route to waiting taxis, Detroit players carried bats as protection.44 In depictions of the 1909 Baker spiking, for which Baker was blamed, writers have often alluded to a riot scene in its aftermath, which didn’t occur in any shape or form.45 It wouldn’t be a stretch to believe that the 1909 incident and the ramifications of the 1911 event were somehow conjoined instead of remaining two, separate happenings. Cobb was indeed threatened by an unruly element of the Philadelphia baseball public, but it was still obvious he had many admirers in that city. It was apparent by the routine ovation he received each time he successfully made a hit.
July 4, 1911, saw the Tigers play Chicago in a doubleheader and by the end of the day, Cobb was emotionally drained. In the morning contest, he was silenced by Ed Walsh, and his 40-game hit streak—the sixth longest in major league history—had ended. Cobb’s achievement did establish a new American League record.46 Detroit lost the match as well, 7–3. The second game was a lengthy battle, going 11 innings before the Tigers won, 11–10. But since Philadelphia swept their holiday games, they knocked the Tigers out of first place for the first time since April. Cobb dealt with an exceptionally abusive crowd at Bennett Park, and throughout the late innings of the second game he was battered by loud critics who seemed to delight in running him down. Tigers’ players had a generally negative impression of Detroit fans. In this instance, fans were angry Cobb had not tried to snag a difficult drive by Chicago’s Rollie Zeider in the eighth inning, which ended up being a home run.47 His limit of punishment was exceeded and he withdrew himself from the game in the 10th inning, simply unable to deal with the hateful taunts any longer.
The Tigers quickly regained first place, but Cobb was feeling the physical effects of his continuous superhuman effort. Suffering from a throbbing headache and a terrible cough, he was losing both sleep and weight.48
He remained in the lineup to help his teammates in the pennant fight, and writers repeatedly made note of his outstanding play in spite of playing at less than a hundred percent. In fact, journalists joked about Cobb’s so-called illness while he amazingly maintained an over .400 average and performed epic feats on the bases and in the field.49 On top of that, he made three of what reporters called the “greatest catches” of his career during this time frame, two at Philadelphia on July 28, and the other against Chicago on August 12.50 But in the midst of his gutsy endeavors, Detroit dropped into second place, and would remain there for the rest of the season. Conversely, the Athletics locked up the division lead and never gave it back. Philadelphia would win the American League pennant in 1911 with a 101–50 record.
“I have already stolen nearly as many bases and scored as many runs this season as I did all year in 1910,” Cobb said in August. “I feel that the exertion has been too much for me. In only a few of the games in the east did I feel right.”51 Things were aggravated much worse at Boston after his prized bat was stolen in a mass rush of the field by spectators. He idiosyncratically believed the loss of his faithful weapon, a tool that had contributed greatly to his success all season, was going to propel him into a prolonged slump. Cobb offered a “liberal reward” for its return, and in the meantime, not only had to use an alternate bat, but had to mentally cope with the superstitious notions such an adjustment caused, however irrational they were.52
The batting championship was on Cobb’s mind, mostly because of his competitive sensibility, and he yearned to again finish first. His strongest challenger came in the form of twenty-four-year-old Joseph Jackson, nicknamed “Shoeless Joe,” a product of Pickens County, South Carolina. Three years earlier, the Detroit Free Press made references to Jackson following his major league debut for Philadelphia, going 1-for-4. It was mentioned that some Southern writers thought Jackson was “as good as Ty Cobb,” which was a startling opinion.53 Jackson’s first full season was 1911, and he was living up to the hype. Now playing for Cleveland, he was learning much as an understudy of Nap Lajoie, but he wanted to bond with his fellow Southerner, Cobb. The two talked and Jackson inquired about Cobb’s polished sliding abilities. The Georgian, without hesitation, agreed to teach Jackson what he knew, and conveyed the optimal tricks of the hook slide.54
War on the Basepaths Page 18