Cobb could plainly see that Jackson was somewhat star struck by him. Essentially a rookie, the Clevelander was a mighty ballplayer, but easily intimidated. A lack of education cut down dramatically on his reading and writing skills, and Cobb knew he could be manipulated without too much effort. As the competition for the batting title tightened, Cobb invoked a little mental warfare against Jackson, intending to get inside the head of his rival. He became condescending, sarcastic, and eventually started talking straight trash, all in the hopes that Jackson would collapse under the pressure.55 Cobb’s psychological advantage worked in the long run, and he ended up winning the title with a .420 average compared to Jackson’s .408.
By posting additional major league leading numbers in hits (248), runs (147), RBIs (127), and stolen bases (83), he was the natural selection to win a second Chalmers auto. Unlike 1910, the award was not based strictly on batting figures, but all-round play on behalf of his team, making it essentially the first ever Most Valuable Player (MVP) designation for the major leagues. The newspaper writers making up the Chalmers Trophy Commission were united in naming Cobb the victor.56 American League President Ban Johnson questioned the unanimous decision, reminding the public that Cobb was fined and scolded by the National Baseball Commission for playing an unsanctioned game in New York in September. “Ty Cobb is a grand player,” Johnson told the press, but then proceeded to mention how he “caused dissension” in the Tigers’ ranks. His potent comments were accompanied by the partial headline “Ty is Overrated.”57
The president of the league was entitled to his opinion, and Cobb undoubtedly withheld a vitriolic response. Short on time, the Georgian returned to his post as an expert pundit for the Philadelphia Press and a variety of syndicated newspapers covering the World Series. He watched as the Philadelphia Athletics won their second-straight championship, beating the New York Giants, four games to two. From there, he was off to rehearsals for his theatrical debut in the stage hit The College Widow, a comedy written years earlier by George Ade. Ever since 1907, producers had tried to coax Cobb to spend his winter on vaudeville, convinced his name and popularity would garner impressive money at the box office. He turned the prospects down, but relented to Cleveland’s Vaughan Glaser after his longtime friend offered a nice guarantee.58
Surrounding Cobb with the attractive nineteen-year-old lead actress Sue MacManamy, who was relatively new to the stage, and a horde of unique characters, Glaser, as manager and producer, launched the play on October 30, 1911, at the Taylor Opera House in Trenton, New Jersey. “Shoeless” Joe Jackson was initially supposed to join Cobb, but backed out at the last minute.59 Sports editor Marvin A. Riley of the Trenton Evening Times was in attendance, and said Cobb made a “credible performance” as an actor. He commented on the loud and positive reactions of the audience to his actions, and it was evident that Cobb overcame the normal jitters to remember his lines.60 Many people were surprised by his composure throughout his performance as Billy Bolton, the star football halfback at the fictitious Atwater College. As the story went, “Bolton” was planning to transfer to rival Bingham, but the “College Widow” intervened to keep his allegiance firm.61
The play featured a bit of intimacy between Cobb and his leading lady, and climaxed in a major football scene. Theaters as spelled below were lined up down the East Coast and across the South before heading to Detroit, Chicago, and Cleveland. “I don’t know much about it yet,” he told the press early in the run, “but I’m learning fast. So far I am about as enthusiastic as anybody could be. Things have gone pretty good for us. The people seem to like our show, and they don’t seem to dislike me as an actor.”62 Cobb did have his critics along the way and the highbrow sect of the theater probably looked down their nose at his amateur thespian abilities. But others simply appreciated his efforts. “Ty is a good actor, because he acts naturally,” a writer for the Cleveland Press stated, and in many towns, the crowd demanded a curtain speech.63
Detroit spectators bided their time before celebrating the arrival of Cobb and his troupe in mid-December. He was excited about it as well, sending out invitations to local buddies for his December 23 performance at the Lyceum Theater. After the second act, he was beckoned to say a few words, but was interrupted from the crowd by teammate Bill Donovan. Donovan met Cobb on stage, and the two embraced in a handshake, then “Wild Bill” proceeded to give Cobb a special gift on behalf of his friends. It was a traveling bag, “full of base hits,” Donovan explained, and the contributors to the present included Frank Navin, Bill Yawkey, Harry Tuthill, Eddie Cicotte, H. G. Salsinger. E. A. Batchelor, and teammates Davy Jones and Sam Crawford.64
“The reception given me by my Detroit friends [was] one of the most satisfying things of my whole career,” Cobb told a reporter. “This actor’s life isn’t exactly the round of pleasure that some people’s fancy may paint it. The hardest thing about it, to my mind, is the fact that a man can’t get his regular sleep. When I go home after the evening performance, it is impossible to go right to sleep like I would do in the summer months, for I am all keyed up and under a nervous strain. The stage is very well in its way, but there is nothing about it so pleasant to me as the satisfaction of slamming out a nice, clean hit.”65
His eyes strained by theater lights, Cobb cut short the breadth of the tour in January 1912, and admitted, “I am more fatigued right now than I ever was at the end of the baseball season.”66 The tour was expected to continue until March 1912. Cobb told one reporter, “I think that a man needs a vacation.”67 The curtain closed on The College Widow in Cleveland and Cobb pined for a speedy return to his family in Detroit, where they were spending the winter. The June before, Charlie had given birth to their second child, Shirley Marion Cobb, and Ty enjoyed a much needed rest in the comfort of his loved ones.68 He was a perpetual mover by heart, though, and his time recuperating from his arduous schedule was brief. Soon, he was seeking out new hobbies like bowling and iceboating, and in January 1912, he joined the Michigan Sovereign Consistory, a branch of Freemasonry, in Detroit. Having already joined the Order at Royston several years before, he was welcomed as a thirty-second degree mason in a ceremony at the Moslem Temple.69
The off-season gave Cobb time to contemplate the comings and goings of the American League, particularly roster changes around the circuit. He read varied baseball publications to get the scoop on promising recruits and immersed himself in the statistics of rivaling teams, essentially giving him the intelligence he needed as to which players were heating up or slowing down in their careers. It wasn’t that he was just randomly inquisitive, but plotting a legitimate psychological blueprint for the upcoming season. In fact, ever since becoming a major leaguer, he’d kept a mental database of opposing players and became highly adept at knowing their weaknesses and routines. He found that such information played perfectly into his line of attack, consisting of skill, a set of theories, and working the percentages.
The combination was lethal. Cobb’s intrinsic understanding of “enemy” limitations was astoundingly beneficial. He knew which players were poor throwers, which were high-strung and easily flustered, and those who were caught in a wicked slump. Beyond that, he went out of his way to garner certain inside information about rivals who were battling illnesses or mentally exhausted by engaging in small talk with players on other teams, intending to use a mixture of all the “dope” to gain an advantage.70 He’d often pass off incorrect data about one of his teammates to fool the opposition, as well. Meaning, he’d customize his offensive approach specifically because of the players in the field before him. If a rookie was at third base, for example, Cobb was more likely to bunt in that direction because he felt the percentages were better for him to get to first safely. The recruit was more apt to boot, bobble, or toss the ball wildly than a hardened veteran.
Cobb analyzed baseball religiously in his free time and studied the habits of his peers. He took real notice of the way they responded to his movements, working to improve his chances for suc
cess. As one might expect, Cobb’s rivals regularly established a reactionary plan to his off-beat style, planning out layered resistance to combat his techniques. But when the defense felt they had Cobb solved, he switched up his attack plan and did something a little different. His desire was to always keep opponents guessing to what his next move was going to be, and the concept worked solidly for years.
Depending on the circumstances, Cobb wasn’t above using tricks to triumph in a ball game. He was occasionally known to fake an injury to his leg, limping to sell the handicap, only to erupt into a full stride and score a pivotal run in the same contest. He’d kick up clouds of dust to obscure the vision of umpires, run in the line of thrown balls, and if given the chance, he’d punt the ball out of infielders’ glove. Cobb pulled one of his infamous stunts during a game against Chicago on April 30 when he slid into a ball laying on the base path, kicking it off the diamond, and then ran home to score a winning run in the 10th inning. White Sox players claimed it was a deliberate interference, while Tigers supporters said it was an accident. The umpire agreed with the latter and the score counted.71 The legendary hidden ball trick wasn’t out of the realm of possibility either. Later in the decade, while playing first base against the Chicago White Sox, he performed the deception following a meeting at the mound with his pitcher. Cobb casually returned to his position with the ball under his arm, and then tagged out runner Joe Benz when he eased off the bag.72 These stunts were textbook Cobb and took many shapes and forms throughout his tenure in baseball.
The psychological game was a huge asset to Cobb and he went to great lengths to get into the heads of opposing players. Rivals were frequently demoralized by his clever base-running and left to wonder how in the world they were going to stop him. Notably, one of his principal concepts was based on the notion that certain aggressive maneuvers not only worked to serve a purpose in the current game he was playing, but that it would have a lasting mental effect on opponents in subsequent games as well. It applied greatly to running the bases, he felt, and the threat of stealing was remembered by adversaries regardless if he intended to follow up with a second attempt or not. Thus, it caused a disturbance and played right into his hands. The propaganda surrounding his so-called sharpened spikes created another level of intimidation entirely, and infielders psyched out by the allegations were left rattled.
Going into the 1912 season, there were rumors of a nearly complete team aversion to Hugh Jennings continuing as manager of the Tigers. Cobb publicly denied this, claiming the internal dissension was limited to a few individuals.73 He was unenthusiastic about attending spring training camp in Monroe, Louisiana, and agreed to meet the team a few weeks later in New Orleans. In the meantime, he visited relatives in Georgia and participated in a game Royston had against nearby Elberton. With Cobb in the box, Royston was victorious, 7–0.74 Before the end of March, he was alongside his Detroit teammates battling through an exhibition schedule, but the team appeared sluggish. Cobb was on his way to regaining his batting eye when he developed a cold in Toledo, Ohio. Suffering from a fever, sore throat, and relentless cough, he was severely weakened, but still determined to start the season in the lineup.
At Cleveland on Opening Day, he was held hitless in four at-bats in the opener, and the Tigers lost a heartbreaker in eleven innings, 3–2.75 From there, he had a few painful mishaps in the first couple of games, including a foul tip off his leg, a hit-by-pitch, and a rib injury. These added to his persistent illness and only served to frustrate him all the more. By the time Detroit reached Chicago early on April 15, he needed a thorough rest before that afternoon’s game. All he wanted was peace and quiet, but unfortunately, his room at the Chicago Beach Hotel gave him a constant barrage of excruciating train sounds from the nearby tracks of the Illinois Central Railroad. Cobb protested to hotel management for another room, but after feeling dismissed by a hotel clerk, he began to flash signs of his famous temper, and the Chicago Beach Hotel banned Cobb after the incident.76
The clerk worked to pacify Cobb, telling him that he could give him another room later in the day, but only if he kept it secret from his teammates as new rooms couldn’t be offered to everyone. Additionally, the Tigers agreed to send him to another hotel, but Cobb stubbornly declined to move unless the entire team left. He didn’t want to appear a prima donna, but after Cobb departed Chicago that night to return to Detroit for medical attention from his private physician, press reports spun the story to do just that. Sensationalistic headlines claimed he “quit” the Tigers because he didn’t like his room, and any mention of his prolonged illness was minimized.77
The grand opening of the brand new Navin Field, a modern steel and concrete structure, captivated Detroit baseball fans and Cobb did his best to recuperate in time to participate in the April 20 game. Seeing how important it was to the franchise, he not only appeared, but pulled his superstar magic against Cleveland. In the first inning, he combined with Sam Crawford to pull the double steal twice, and the second time he safely went home in a mad dash for the plate. He went 2-for-4 and had a pair of terrific defensive plays, giving the energetic audience of 26,000 a thrill in a 6–5 victory.78 The next day, pitcher George Kahler nearly came to blows with Cobb after a mix-up around first base. As the Detroit Free Press noted, Cobb was perfectly willing to oblige the twenty-two-year-old, but the umpire prevented any fisticuffs.79
Already with signs of controversy and his inglorious fighting spirit in full view, Cobb was in rare form. Detroit was clearly not a championship caliber squad in 1912, but they had the ability to impact the pennant race by knocking around those at the top of the first division. Headed into its first eastern swing, the Tigers were much more unified than sportswriters believed, and the alleged internal dissension was not going to prove a hindrance to the team’s success. In fact, going into New York, club unity was going to be tested more than any team in baseball history, and the players were going to come together for the sake of one man, backing him to the fullest. That man was Ty Cobb, and he’d once again be at the center of a hailstorm of contention.
9
BRAWLS AND STRIKES
The rapport between audiences and baseball players was unique during the early twentieth century and much more personal than it is today. It wasn’t uncommon for members of the bleacher section or grandstand to engage in a running dialogue with athletes on the field, and the mood of the discussion ranged from comedic to vicious. Players bantered back and forth with crowds throughout a game and everyone had a hearty laugh. But there were instances when the conversation turned highly sarcastic and then crossed the line to vulgarity, leaving innocent patrons of stadiums—many with families—shocked and bewildered. Big league ballplayers were without question supposed to maintain a professional stance and ignore the profane spectators, but occasionally, things spiraled out of control.
Ty Cobb was long a target of crowd focus. Since becoming one of the most heralded athletes in the game, he was keenly watched by spectators regardless if he was standing idly in the outfield, at the plate, or even walking down the street. Many die-hard fans were fascinated by the aura of Cobb and treated him like royalty. Sportswriters were equally enthralled, often calling him the “greatest ball player” of the age, and lauding his great feats on the diamond through their written word. There was a special mystique about Cobb that separated him from other players in baseball, and the years of success and controversies only served to feed into the legend that surrounded him.
By 1912, the majority of the public had accepted Cobb as the sport’s premier athlete, but with that there were certain expectations. For one, he was counted on to pull his superman act during every game he played, which was, realistically, impossible. When fans in circuit towns bought tickets to see their home team play Detroit, they figured Cobb was a lock for some type of dramatic display. He was always good for a bit of offensive splendor combined with a shade of base-running that was majestically achieved despite all odds. He was undoubtedly a boon to ticket sa
les all around the American League and fans, in recognizing his standout performances, routinely applauded his efforts. But when Cobb was having an average day or worse yet, in a funk, fans rapidly turned against him. There were boos, jeers, and hissing from all corners of the audience, and Cobb was forced to withstand a bombardment of negativity.
The Frank Baker incident in Philadelphia years earlier spurred on waves of backlash and Cobb was at the center of a massive rise in public abhorrence. But the venom dissipated in short time and the respect paid Cobb by grandstand spectators eventually overruled any disorder emitting from the bleachers. Other episodes were similarly handled by baseball fans, meaning that there was usually an initial uproar to an action by Cobb and a certain amount of criticism, but it would generally fade fast and he was again given the respect his superlative play deserved. In essence, Cobb was loved and hated by the masses for different reasons at different times. Fans enjoyed their freedom in goading him, realizing that he was temperamental, but for the price of admission, it was well worth it to give him a little ribbing. After all, it was interaction with a true baseball superstar.
War on the Basepaths Page 19