The scenes down-town and around the pool rooms, yesterday, have not been equaled for a long time. There was a very general idea and fear of a hippodrome, but it did not prevent crowds from assembling to get the bulletined result of the game as it progressed, and it seemed at the same time to increase instead of diminish the interest. The biggest jam and of the wildest enthusiasts of the season was seen around the Globe-Democrat office, even for distances from where the bulletin boards could not be seen. The pool-rooms were the same way, hundreds standing patiently all afternoon, though able only to hear the cheers and shouts of those near the boards, and form an idea of the game from those demonstrations. The Chicagos certainly had the call in the betting, with odds of $10 to $8. The Browns' friends wanted to sail in and take the money offering, but in the general idea of a hippodrome it was Chicago day, and the betting was limited, and became worse and worse as the Chicagos made one run, then a second and then a third. John Donovan at that time offered $100 to $10 on the Chicagos, having a large amount already on the Browns, but though it was estimated there were 1,000 men in his rooms the bet went begging until Bob Golsau took it. Then he made another of $50 to $10 and $25 to $5, but the crowd was all of one way of thinking, and there were not many takers of such bets. When the Browns piled up three runs in the eighth and tied the score the faith of their friends in the honesty of the game returned, and a number of bets were made at $10 to $7 in favor of the home club. Then the bulletins favored Chicago's probability of making runs, and the betting moved up to even money, and a number of bets were made at Donovan's, Wiseman's and other places. At that time the scene around the Globe-Democrat was one that will not soon be forgotten. Men and boys, silk hats and common ones, mingled together, yelled together, and, in fact, went crazy together, and during the playing of the ninth and tenth innings it was impossible to get through the crowd. The shouts when the winning run was scored in the tenth was deafening.
-St. Louis Globe-Democrat, October 24, 1886