War on the Basepaths Page 32
Spending his birthday and the holidays with family, Cobb had to cope with the sudden illness of his youngest child, four-year-old Jimmy, who wrangled with a bout of pleurisy before recovering.34 More disheartening news emerged in February 1926, after it was alleged that Iola Williams, a housekeeper at the Cobb residence for five years, had been stealing from the family. Cobb and an Augusta police officer located a number of items taken from his home in the custody of Williams, and both Iola and her husband Robert were subsequently arrested. Reporter J. Raiford Watkins of the Augusta Chronicle noted that Cobb “expressed much regret” at the situation, particularly because Williams had been such a “trusted” employee.35
To sporting press syndicates, the idea of running an in-depth biography of Cobb as a series in newspapers from coast-to-coast during the off-season was nothing more than brilliant. His life story was a fascinating one, and editors believed readers would be enthralled by the accomplishments, conflicts, and personal details of his rise to superstardom. Christy Walsh, later acknowledged as the first baseball agent, saw the interest in the concept and wanted to run an authorized account of Cobb’s history under his syndicate byline. He guaranteed Cobb $10,000 for the narrative and planned to roll the articles out for a period of months between late 1924 and into early 1925. Things were forcibly changed when Harry G. Salsinger of the Detroit News, one of the closest sportswriters to Cobb, came out with his own multipart biography on the Georgian. Walsh patiently waited until December 1925 and finally released Twenty-Years in the Line-Up, Ty Cobb’s Own Story.36
As the members of the Tigers began to report for the commencement of spring training at Augusta on March 1, 1926, Cobb was not in his customary position to receive them. Instead, Coach George McBride welcomed the squad and initiated the formalities of camp. On that same day, Ty underwent an operation by William H. Wilmer, an acclaimed specialist at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland, to remove a growth from his left eye.37 Cobb had been bothered by this problem for some time, and the mass was said to be a build-up of dirt and dust particles. The procedure was a success and, although he experienced a considerable amount of pain during a two-week recuperation period and had to wear dark glasses to shield his eyes, the sacrifices were advantageous in continuing his career. He even displayed his revitalized vision by lifting a ball into the centerfield stands in his first appearances at the plate upon returning to Augusta.38
The personnel of the Tigers changed noticeably heading into opening day. Twenty-two-year-old third baseman Jack Warner and pitcher Clyde Barfoot were picked up in a high-priced deal with the Vernon Tigers of the Pacific Coast League, Fred Haney and Topper Rigney were sent to Boston, and Cobb embraced second baseman Charlie Gehringer as a regular. Right-hander Sam Gibson was also brought in from the Toronto Maple Leafs of the International League, while Jess Doyle, Owen Carroll, and Carl Hubbell were farmed back in the other direction to the Maple Leafs. A famous story circulated years later about how Cobb tried to convince Hubbell to drop the screwball from his repertoire, telling him, “You will never get anybody out with it.”39 Hubbell went on to have great success with the pitch for the New York Giants and was elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1947.
Cobb planned to step further away from an active, day-to-day role with the team, telling a reporter: “There is one thing that I have found out as manager, and that is that the most successful method is managing from the bench. I used to think that I could direct better while playing in the field, but I know now that psychologically the bench method is best.”40 His eyes remained bothersome, but he stepped in to play a spring exhibition between Detroit and Augusta, donning the uniform of the latter against his own club at Warren Park on April 3, 1926. He went 2-for-4 with a run, but the local franchise was toppled, 12–3.41 In Atlanta two days later, the Tigers helped the Disabled American Veterans organization by raising awareness for a fund-raising campaign, and Cobb, in a stunt, dropped baseballs from the eighteen-story Hurt Building, with players on the ground trying to catch them.42
Bearing in mind the team’s additions, the Tigers were still fundamentally weak. Cobb liked the offensive power and the depth at various positions, but wanted “two or three steady, dependable pitchers” to eliminate many of the questions that still lingered.43 On paper, the infield appeared stronger with Jack Warner and Charlie Gehringer, but after years of disappointments, he wasn’t ready to guarantee a thing. The season kicked off at home on April 13, 1926, with a 2–1 loss to Cleveland, and Cobb entered the game briefly as a pinch hitter. He’d sporadically play off the bench, along with Gehringer and Manush, each of them future Hall of Famers, until breaking into the starting lineup on April 27, after the Tigers had dropped five-straight. Cobb went 3-for-4 with a double and triple, driving in four runs, and snaring an incredible catch in an 8–7 victory over Chicago.44 Both Gehringer and Manush became essential regulars as the year progressed.
At St. Louis on April 30, Cobb got into a verbal spat with Browns catcher Wally Schang, and Ty made one of his old-time promises: if he got on, he’d promptly steal second. In the seventh inning, Cobb walked and tried to make good on his boastful declaration. However, the thirty-nine-year-old Cobb wasn’t the indomitable force he was in the early 1910s, and Schang threw him out. Cobb hadn’t missed a step in terms of talking trash, and could easily get under the skin of rivals, no matter how peace loving the individual was. Lou Gehrig was a perfect example. The New York Yankees first baseman, in his fourth season, was already known as a class act. He was a gentleman, good-natured, and a true asset to the game of baseball. But Cobb knew how to turn his pleasant attitude into anger, using simple badgering, and in doing so, Ty hoped to frustrate the youngster into making mental blunders during a game.
Before sportswriters, Cobb rejected any claim that the two detested each other, and Gehrig did similarly. “Last year Ty gave me tips on batting,” Gehrig explained. “We’ve always been good friends, and the first thing he did when he saw me this season was to come up and shake hands with me on winning the first base job.”45 In the heat of the battle, however, admiration and familiarity disappeared, and that was definitely the case on May 8, 1926, at Yankee Stadium. New York was sitting pretty in first place at the time and didn’t want to lose a big Saturday afternoon game to the sixth place Tigers before 30,000 spectators. Gehrig struck out twice and Cobb was probably antagonizing him a bit, adding to the growing volatility. With two outs in the ninth and the Yankees down two runs, Earl Whitehill hit Gehrig on the hand with a pitch.46
Deeming the act deliberate, Gehrig exploded into rage—a completely uncharacteristic behavior—and wanted to fight the pitcher. Umpires separated the two, but that didn’t end the hostilities. “I’ll meet you right after the game and give you a good beating,” Gehrig shouted. Whitehill agreed, and the next batter, Babe Ruth, grounded to second to conclude the contest. New York baseball writer Joe Vila described the scenario in his column in The Sporting News. He indicated that just minutes after the game, Whitehill and Gehrig were set to duel in the tunnel leading to the clubhouse. Cobb then turned up, and instead of looking to square things with Whitehill, Gehrig changed his focus to him, telling Ty, “You’ve been riding me for a long time, and now I’m going to fix you.” Vila said that Cobb and Gehrig brawled “rough and tumble” on the ground until Gehrig accidentally hit his head on a wall and was knocked unconscious.47
The story continued, as Vila added that Cobb and Ruth “swung harmless blows” at each other as well, prior to the calamity being broken up. Interestingly, another version of this tale was reported in The Sporting News, but didn’t mention anything about Cobb and Gehrig battling in a “rough and tumble.” It confirmed that Gehrig and Whitehill were the primary battlers, and claimed that Ruth dragged his teammate away from the scene. En route to the Yankees locker room, Gehrig was indeed knocked out, and the unnamed journalist who wrote the article seemed to think it came from a “punch.” Ruth was also irate because he had been kicked during the skirmish, an
d teammates told him that Cobb was the culprit. Fred Merkle, Yankees backup first baseman disagreed, and told Babe that it hadn’t been Ty. Ruth chose not to believe him.
Blinded by his anger, he raced to the Detroit clubhouse and surprisingly found that Cobb was uninterested in fighting. Ty said he didn’t do it, but noted, “If you make me very angry, I may take a kick at you.”48 There are several other versions of the Gehrig-Whitehill-Cobb-Ruth saga, including one told by Cobb in his autobiography. In that edition, he said he pulled who he thought was Whitehill from underneath Gehrig, but it turned out to be Ruth instead, and that started their conflict.49 Yet another explanation stated that Gehrig went after Cobb in the dugout of the Tigers, and was knocked out when he swung wildly, lost his footing, and bashed his head against the wall.50 As with many things in baseball history, the truth and sensationalized legends often become entangled, and this story was no different.
The day after the brouhaha, Cobb went 4-for-4 and Al Munro Elias, the noted statistician, revealed that he had upped his lifetime batting average to .370.51 He wasn’t playing every day, but when he did, he was as hardnosed as ever. During one June game, he turned his ankle and was obviously in a lot of pain. Rather than put in a substitute, he had it bandaged and was right back in the action the next inning.52 Back problems also bothered Cobb for a stretch. With the issues to Cobb’s back and other bumps and bruises, the team faced another crisis when catcher Johnny Bassler went out with a broken ankle in late May. There was no question that Detroit had talent, but the constant good work of a handful of players was being constantly reversed by costly errors and overall bad luck.
On June 19, 1926, the Tigers presented “Ty Cobb Day” at Navin Field, and Cobb was celebrated for being league MVP in 1911, an honor that didn’t receive specific acknowledgment at the time. The players of Detroit and Philadelphia formed a circle around home plate and Cobb was showered with adoration from Ban Johnson, Frank Navin, and Detroit Mayor John Smith.53 The following month at Washington, Cobb was treated with anything but adulation. He was hassled constantly by Senators fans, had items thrown at him, and was openly challenged to fights by members of the audience. Despite informing stadium authorities to remove certain individuals, he was ignored even though that was the way league officials had instructed him to handle such occasions.54 The Senators complained that the ever-animated Cobb was holding up the game by invoking delay tactics and fans around the Detroit dugout protested Ty’s alleged foul language.
When a segment of the Washington press jumped on the anti-Cobb bandwagon, Baltimore News sportswriter Rodger H. Pippen came to his defense, declaring, “What baseball needs is more managers and more players [like Cobb] who rave and rant and at least give the impression they are doing more for their money than going through the motions. Give us more Cobbs!”55 Going into the stretch, there was an outside chance Detroit could compete for as high as second place, but with Cleveland, Philadelphia, Washington, and Chicago coming on strong, their chances quickly faded. Outside a few hopeful runs, the team experienced nearly every bad break possible, and slowly fell from the first division, landing in sixth place in September. Behind the scenes, plans for 1927 were taking shape in the form of player recalls and purchases. Frank Navin was also working to reestablish spring training camp at San Antonio, Texas.
Finishing the season with a 79–75 record and in sixth place was depressing for team management and fans back home. Heinie Manush gave the club a tremendous lift by achieving the highest batting average in the majors, .378, and Bob Fothergill and Harry Heilmann (both at .367) were in the top five. For Cobb, he played only 79 games and batted a respectable .339. In six seasons as manager, he’d put up a record of 479–444 (.519) and finished no worse than sixth place. His second place ranking in 1923 was commendable, and under the right circumstances, a legitimate pennant contender was probable somewhere in his managerial future. Headed for a hunting trip in Wyoming with Tris Speaker, he informed the press that he was going to return in 1927 and try his hand again.56 But secretly, there were major happenings in the baseball world, and not only was Cobb’s good name threatened, but his career as well. The same went for Speaker, and the next few months were going to present serious adversity and test the fortitude of both men.
16
OLD MAN COBB
As the baseball community was busily preparing for the commencement of the World Series in late September 1926, Ty Cobb quietly escaped to the fresh air and mountains of the West. Having initially departed Chicago with several friends, Cobb set off for Omaha, where the group met Tris Speaker, now the manager of the Cleveland Indians, on September 28. They planned to continue their jaunt on the Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy Railroad for a big game hunt near Cody, Wyoming.1 During his brief stay in Omaha, Cobb was interviewed by a local reporter, Frederick Ware, and spoke favorably about Heinie Manush, the celebrated young outfielder for Detroit. Manush played for the Omaha Buffaloes of the Western League in 1922 just prior to jumping to the majors, and Cobb’s comments were of great interest. “I am pretty certain,” Cobb explained, “that a career of stardom is ahead of him.”2
Cobb added that he planned to play in 1927. “I’m going to get in the lineup off and on for next season, at least,” Cobb told the reporter. “The lure of the game is still strong, but fully as strong is the delight I get in helping a youngster to develop. You can see that I’ve frequently been delighted during the past seven months, for I’ve had a team of rookies—able rookies, too, lacking chiefly only experience. Bringing them along is greater compensation to me now than money. We didn’t finish any higher because we had a kid infield and our pitchers weren’t dependable enough. But next year …”3 Rumors were circulating that Cobb’s days at the helm of Detroit were numbered, but to Ware, and the newspaper readers in Omaha, there was no evidence in the interview that he was through in any form or fashion. It seemed pretty much guaranteed that he was returning to lead the Tigers in their next campaign.
But things weren’t so cut and dry. Cobb was well aware of the brewing firestorm festering behind closed doors that endangered his future in baseball. His difficulties with club owner Frank Navin were more complicated than ever, a segment of Detroit fans had lost confidence in his ability as a manager, and attendance was dropping. Truth be told, he was under the impression that he likely would’ve been fired at the end of the 1925 season, but was only saved by the fact that the City of Detroit honored him with a special banquet, celebrating his tremendous baseball achievements and contributions to the local community. Navin apparently realized that it would’ve been in incredibly bad taste to pay such tribute to Cobb one month, and then hand him his walking papers the next.4 The sorrowful recent pennant run added to Navin’s desire for change, and the budding storm on the horizon seemed to seal Cobb’s fate.
The controversy itself was initiated with malice in June 1926 by Dutch Leonard, a veteran of eleven years of big league ball, including five with Detroit from 1919 to ’21 and from 1924 to ’25. Leonard posted a career record of 139 wins and 114 losses and was Cobb’s most reliable pitcher in 1925, winning five-straight in June and July, before losing the strength in his arm. It wasn’t until after the ball was rolling on the scandal in 1926 that he divulged a highly venomous version of events from the year prior. He claimed that Cobb reneged on a promise to work him every fifth game, allowing him four days to rest, and that overwork was the central reason for his downfall. “I beat Cleveland,” Leonard said. “Two days later, [Cobb] made me pitch against St. Louis. I beat them. Then I beat Chicago. Still I knew I was killing myself in winning these games for him. I complained to him. I reminded him of his promises.”
According to Leonard’s charges, it was a game against Philadelphia on July 14, 1925, that really displayed the weakened condition of his arm. He never even expected to pitch that afternoon. He explained to Cobb how he physically couldn’t, and Ty responded by saying, “Yes, you are going to pitch, whom do you think you are, manager of this team? Get out there on t
he field. Don’t you dare turn Bolshevik on me, I am the boss here.” Leonard did what he was told and went out to the mound. “Philadelphia made 23 hits against me,” he said, offering his memory of the event. “Still Cobb kept me in the box. Connie Mack himself, I learned later, said during the game that it was not right to let me stay in the box. ‘You are killing that boy,’ Mack said. Cobb only laughed and made me stay in. Then the fans themselves took it up. They could see I was being punished. They booed Cobb. They could see he was trying to break me.”5
Against the Yankees on July 19, Leonard was called upon again, and he went five innings, giving up four runs on seven hits. A little over a week later, he joined the Tigers on a road trip to Philadelphia, and visited a local physician. He was informed of the seriousness of his injury and it was estimated that he’d need three weeks to recover. However, it soon became apparent that his arm wasn’t bouncing back despite the ample rest, and with the intention of beefing up the team’s infield, Detroit packaged Leonard into a deal with Vernon of the Pacific Coast League for Jack Warner, a promising third baseman.6 Leonard was “astounded” to learn of the transaction, and his devaluation from being one of the most talked about pitchers in the league in July to clearing waivers in September, was simply remarkable.
Closer scrutiny of exactly how Cobb utilized Leonard in June and July 1925 offers a starkly different impression than the one Leonard provided in 1926. Between June 14 and July 19, Leonard worked eight games, and Cobb provided him with at least four full days of rest in-between appearances in all but one. The latter was on three days’ rest on June 29, and never did Cobb ask him to pitch one day and then again two days later like he claimed. Leonard did throw six-straight complete games and went 65 innings over the course of his eight showings. During that run, he provided Cobb with the kind of dependability the Tigers longed for and was a great asset to the club before the demise of his potency. But at the time, notably, Leonard didn’t cite any so-called pressure by Cobb to work on little rest as the cause of his sudden ineffectiveness.