The Soft Ball Trick

"Frank" Bancroft recently told a story explanatory of the occasional successes in the pitcher's box of George Washington Bradley. According to an exchange it was "Mike" McGeary who taught Bradley the soft ball trick.

The balls were always taken out of the paper boxes by McGeary and pounded until they became quite soft. Mac would have his men play a short field from the start and one or two runs were generally enough to win the games at St. Louis.

Bradley could make a soft ball talk, and with Clapp to coach him it was 3 to 1 they could win any game they played at home.

Bradley got a big reputation out his work that season and was secured by the Chicago Club for 1877 to take Al Spalding's place.

The ball was made livelier the next year, as the public demanded more batting, and without the help of McGeary and Clapp, Bradley made a bad failure and was released that fall.

The next season, while Bradley was with New Bedford, the Chicagos went there for a game, and Bradley proceeded to work his celebrated trick. He took the box containing the ball into the kitchen of the hotel and steamed it so that the label would come off.

Then he carried it to a carpenter's shop wrapped in the heel of a stocking, put it in a vise and pressed it until it was as mellow as a ripe pear. Then he put it back in the box, sealed it up and took it out to the game.

The ball was thrown to the umpire, who broke open the box and tossed the ball to Bradley. The latter grinned in his own original, fiendish style, and took his place in the box. "Brad" could make the soft ball do everything but talk. He sent it in with all kinds of shoots and curves.

In consequence New Bedford knocked the Windy City team out by a score of 5 to 1. Bradley was the hero of the hour. He could have had anything in New Bedford from the City Hall to a crank's best girl. These tactics were kept up and they won the championship of the New England League.

Bradley was again in consequence and signed with Troy next season at a good salary.

-The North American, December 27, 1895

John Clapp's Obituary

Ithaca, N.Y., Dec. 18.-John Clapp, formerly a National League baseball player, dropped dead at midnight last night while in the discharge of his duty as night sergeant of the city police department. He had just assisted a patrolman in making an arrest when he was stricken with apoplexy.

-Washington Post, December 19, 1904

Lip Pike Is Dead

Lip Pike, once famous as a ball player, is dying at Brooklyn of heart disease.

-Chicago Daily Tribune, October 12, 1893

"Lip" Pike, the old centerfielder, is dead. He was famous in the day of the old Atlantics and St. Louis Browns.

-Chicago Daily Tribune, October 13, 1893

Pike died on October 10th. His widow died in 1909 and her obituary in the New York Times (August 29, 1909) is rather interesting:

Mrs. Lipman E. Pike, widow of the famous baseball player of thirty years ago, died on Friday...She was a well-known figure at the Polo Grounds and all other baseball fields throughout the country during her husband's life. She kept an elaborate set of scores of all the baseball games she ever attended and was at one time supposed to know more about the game than any other woman in the United States.

George Bradley's Obituary

Bradley, First No Hit, No Run Pitcher, Dies at 79

George Washington Bradley, the first man to pitch an official no hit no run game in major league baseball, died at his home (in Philadelphia) last night (October 1) of a heart ailment. He was 79. While playing with St. Louis Bradley, on July 15, 1876, pitched his team to victory over Hartford in a contest in which he held the oppossing club without a hit or run.

-Chicago Daily Tribune, October 4, 1931

Update: One of my brilliant readers reminded me last night that Joe Borden gets the credit for throwing the first professional no-hitter. If you consider the NA to be a major league, which I do, then Borden should also be credited with throwing the first no-hitter in major league history. Bradley should rightly be credited with throwing the first no-hitter in NL history.

The 1876 Brown Stockings: Bradley Throws A Two-Hit Shutout

At Grand Avenue Park yesterday afternoon, Chapman's Crew, as the Louisville base ball players are alliteratively designated, made their first appearance before a St. Louis crowd, and created a very creditable impression by their gentlemanly behavior and skill on the field. They were out in full force and found foemen worthy of their sharpest tricks in the famous Brown Stocking team. About 3,000 spectators availed themselves of the beautiful weather and were well repaid for their visit to the Park. the Louisville lads presented a very handsome appearance in their neat, white uniform with blue facings, and their showy, striped blue and white stockings.

Lucky McGeary, as usual, won the toss, and promptly at 4 o'clock Hastings stepped up to the plate and play was called by Mr. Wm. Osborne, a noted Louisville amateur, who had been chosen as umpire. That gentleman evinced a little nervousness, but on the whole gave satisfaction to the contesting nines, his slight errors resulting from an evident earnestness to do what was right. The game eventually ended in favor of St. Louis by a score of 5 to 0, although not a run was scored on either side, and not a base hit credited to the Browns until the seventh inning. The fielding of the home team throughout was simply perfect, and it was undoubtedly the finest fielding display ever witnessed in the history of the game. But one error was committed, and that a very excusable one by Clapp, who fell down in a desperate attempt to capture a foul bound just in front of the plate. Not another chance was missed, the infield stopping hard hit bounders with the utmost ease and throwing with the accuracy of Dollymount marksmen. The only ball sent to the outfield gave Cuthbert a chance to earn a prolonged round of applause by one of the running catches which has made him famous. Clapp and Bradley worked together better than ever. The most effective work for Louisville was done by Somerville, Fulmer and Snyder; the former attending to second base without an error, and making one very difficult fly catch in right field. Fulmer maintained his reputation as one of the very best short fielders in the country, being credited with assisting in two double plays, which were the features of the game. In the second inning he, Gerhardt and Snyder, disposed of Bradley and Blong in style, and in the seventh he froze to Blong's red hot liner and caught Pike off second. In the first six innings not a base hit was secured off Devlin, but in the last three five clear hits were made, Clapp and Pike each getting in two, one of the latter's being a drive for three bags, which brought in two earned runs, and would have brought home three had not Mack preceded the others. Louisville was unusually weak at the bat, only two clean hits having been made off Bradley; one each by Hague and Devlin. The game, taken as a whole, was unusually interesting, and the return contest which takes place on Thursday, will undoubtedly draw out a large crowd.

A difference of opinion exists as to whether Blong's fly to center in the second inning should be credited as a base hit or not. Pike, Eggler, Hines, or any first-class center fielder could easily have secured it, but as the ball was badly misjudged by Hastings, that player is here charged with an error. He acknowledged after the game that he had badly misjudged the ball.

-St. Louis Globe-Democrat, May 10, 1876

St. Louis Badly Beaten: An Early Von Der Ahe Story

President Von der Ahe was almost heart-broken over the defeat of the St. Louis base-ball nine by the Athletic Club to-day. As he walked from the grounds a vision of the champion flag slowly fading away came before him and he wept. Dashing the tears away with a great effort he pulled his broad sombrero down over his face, jumped into a bobtail car, and went down town. Arrived at his hotel, he shot off a dozen electric bells and ordered the whole St. Louis nine to his room. The boys soon came up. There was not a smile. They arranged themselves around the room, some on te bed, others on chairs, and still others lounged on the velvet carpet of the wealthy President's room. Von der Ahe gazed upon the crowd and the crowd, with their still unwashed faces, glared back at him. By a great effort Von der Ahe spoke. "Boys, Von der Ahe is de President of de Cent Lewis Club. Von der Ahe is de manager of de Cent Lewis Club. Von der Ahe is de boss manager of the Cent Lewis Club. Vhy did you loose dot game to-day?"

Silence reigned all around. If the State House clock had been nearer it would have been heard to tick. Arlie Latham, from his downy perch on Von der Ahe's bolster, was the first to recover, and he answered: "Why, you see, boss, we had devilish hard luck."

"Yes," chorused the nine, "we had devilish hard luck." Von der Ahe gazed upon his nine. His nine stared back. He knew they had often won games for him. He also remembered how many fines he had paid and how many bad bonds he was on. He turned his eyes upon the stolid countenance of Lewis and then a smile ruffled across his Teutonic face as he said: "Vell, boys, if it was hard luck, dot settles it. You can't win a game ven you have hard luck. Dots so. Dat vas ail right." The nine felt relieved. They arose to a man, shook Von der Ahe's hand, and then filed down to the dinning-room, where they terrified the colored waiters with their orders for supper. The score of to-day's game was 11 to 1 in favor of the Athletics.

-The New York Times, September 5, 1883

Without doing any kind of search through my notes, I'd say that this is one of the earliest Von der Ahe stories that I've come across. For those who don't know what a Von der Ahe story is, I'd define it as any story that attempts to mine humor by portraying Chris Von der Ahe as a buffoon. The common elements in a Von der Ahe story include his German accent, his general ignorance (especially of baseball), and his emotional nature. Usually there is a foil, often Arlie Latham or Ted Sullivan (who specialized in telling Von der Ahe stories), who outwits an angry or confused Von der Ahe by some witty retort or action.

While this kind of humor, portraying immigrants as ignorant and finding humor in their "otherness," was common during the era, the result of all these stories over time has been to create an inaccurate picture of Von der Ahe. Von der Ahe was a self-made man, a successful businessman, and an innovative baseball magnate. But, thanks largely to these stories, he is remembered today as a clown and buffoon. Even if there is some truth in the stories (and many of them just seem to be yarns made up out of whole cloth), the way they are told, focusing on the accent and always presenting Von der Ahe as the butt of the joke, has had the effect of creating an inaccurate and on-sided portrayal of Von der Ahe.

Von der Ahe, like most people, was complicated and can't be captured by a one-dimensional portrayal. Could he be a buffoon? Of course. Did he have moments of genius? I think so. He was a womanizer and a spendthrift but he was also extraordinarily kind-hearted and innovative. There were many people that hated him and probably just as many that loved him. Many mocked him and many admired him. He was certainly more than the stupid clown who appears in the stories.

Comiskey On The 1886 World Series: Kelly's $10,000 Error

During the year before we had won the American Association pennant, and played out the post season series with Anson's White Sox of the National League for the world honors. Although the deciding game was called a tie. I have always maintained that the honors should justly have gone to the Browns. As a result of the discussion, when we were arrayed against the White Sox the next season for a similar series, we agreed that the winning team should take the entire gate receipts, half of which was to go to the players. In some ways I think it was the most exciting duel in the history of Baseball. There was a cool twenty thousand dollars hinging on the result.

Of the first three games, played in Chicago, the White Sox won two, and came down to St. Louis, confident of an easy victory, only to run into two straight defeats, which left the odds one game in our favor when the sixth contest of the series was called. Realizing that it was their last chance of evening the score and forcing an extra game, Anson's men opened the battle with such a display of ginger that for seven innings they led us 3 to 0. In the eighth inning with three of our men on bases Dalrymple misjudged a fly, and we tied the count.

With a small fortune hinging on the result, the game went into extra innings, while a special train waited on a siding to carry both teams to Cincinnati for the deciding contest if the White Sox forced over another run. It was one of the few times of my life that I realized I had nerves.

In the tenth inning Curt Welch got around to third. When Bushong went to the bat, we knew that if he made a safe hit twenty thousand dollars and the world's championship were ours. Curt did not have his superior as a base stealer, either in those days or these. With the first ball thrown he was well off third. I saw that he didn't intend to wait for Bushong, but that he was going to risk a dash for home at the first chance offered him. "King" Kelly, behind the bat, saw it also, and motioned to Clarkson in the box for a high one inside, with the intention of snipping Welch with a snap throw.

It was then that the costliest blunder of the diamond occurred, Kelly's famous ten thousand dollar passed ball. Clarkson followed his instructions and Kelly extended his hands for an easy catch. I saw the ball settle between his fingers, saw Kelly's arm go back, and knew that if he made connections with third Welch was doomed. It was as though the breath of every person in the bleachers had suddenly been shut off. And then we saw the ball roll from Kelly's fingers behind him and the "King" scrambling wildly after it. Just how it happened I have never been quite able to understand. Probably Kelly was suffering from over-strained nerves like the rest of us, and at the critical moment they broke.

In the same instant, Welch, grasping the situation, sprinted like an escaping convict for the home plate. When a dozen feet away, he threw himself flat on his face in a desperate head foremost slide. A cloud of yellow dust settled over him, and when it cleared we saw him still on his face with the tips of his right fingers touching the plate, and Kelly thumping his shoulders. But the decision was ours.

I still have that ball, with the score on it in gilt letters, among my trophies. Perhaps I am unduly sentimental. but you must pardon a veteran!

-Charles Comiskey, Thirty-Seven Years of Baseball (Pearson's Magazine, Volume 31)

This is as good and concise an account of what Bill James called the most famous play in 19th century baseball I've ever read. Of course, according to Comiskey, twenty-eight years after the fact, the $15,000 slide was actually worth $10,000 (or $20,000, depending on how you look at it). He also seems rather certain of the fact that the play was a passed ball rather than a straight steal. Maybe we should start calling it Kelly's $10,000 error rather than Welch's $15,000 slide.

Comiskey's Thirty-Seven Years of Baseball is a nice little article and worth a read. There's some good stories about Cap Anson and King Kelly in it that you might find interesting.