War on the Basepaths Page 37
Upon hearing the news, Cobb responded by saying, “I feel very much flattered and honored to have so many fine things relative to me appear in The Sporting News, also to know of the vote from those who are so highly qualified. It is very highly satisfying. I have been amply rewarded for all that I worked for, and deprived myself of, in order that I might be fit for the game. This honor from those who voted, and coming from The Sporting News, the baseball publication, is the capstone, in my estimation. I wish I could say more.”16
The war raging overseas was on the mind of all Americans and Cobb was ever the patriot, doing whatever was asked of him in the way of serving the cause. Mostly, he donated his time and used his notoriety to sell war bonds, and autographed balls to be auctioned off. Away from the public’s eye, he was equally vigilant. Around March 1942, he contacted the San Francisco office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation and “reported several items of interest and of value … in connection with Internal Security and Espionage.” He expressed his thorough support of Director J. Edgar Hoover and the FBI organization as a whole, leading N. J. L. Pieper, the Special Agent in Charge of the local office, to notify Hoover, and suggest a personal letter to Cobb in response.17
Director Hoover replied to Pieper and proposed that he contact Cobb “with the view to developing him as a Special Service Contract.” The position would allow Ty to cooperate with the Bureau on a regular basis and, according to Hoover’s letter, might prove invaluable “in furnishing information concerning individuals associated with organized baseball.”18 Hoover wrote Cobb as well, thanking him for his “commendatory remarks concerning the work being done by this Bureau and me.” He added, “I want you to know that I sincerely appreciate your assistance … and your willingness to continue cooperating” with the San Francisco office.19
Acting on the guidance offered by Hoover, Special Agent John A. Cost interviewed Cobb at length on June 5, 1942, and Ty again said he would “give his wholehearted cooperation to the Bureau in any way.” According to a summation of the discussion prepared by Agent Pieper for Hoover, “Cobb advised that he did not believe that there was any subversive element at work among the organized baseball players, and he stated that from his long study and observation that the baseball players and managers as a whole are a loyal and patriotic American group.” He would, however, “be vigilant for any type of subversive activity and would immediately advise the San Francisco Field Division should he detect such.”20 Thus, Cobb was acknowledged as a “Special Service Contact” for a period during the war. Around the same time, an alleged distant family member of Cobb’s was investigated for pro-Nazi beliefs, but an FBI investigation failed to substantiate any claims or locate “any active connection or association” to Cobb himself.21
Cobb’s ties to the war became more personal after his youngest son, James Howell, joined the U.S. Army at twenty-one years of age in 1943. He was inducted into service at the Fort Bliss Reception Center in El Paso after graduating from the New Mexico Military Institution, and was stationed at Fort Riley, Kansas, where his father visited him at least twice in 1943 and ’44.22 James was shipped overseas to fight in the Pacific campaign in May 1945. Of Ty’s other children, his daughter Shirley was the only other volunteer for overseas service. She enlisted in the Red Cross and helped support the Fifth Army in Italy in 1944. Incidentally, she ran into her father’s old rival, Leo Durocher, as the latter toured through as part of the USO, and the two talked baseball for a spell.23 Both of Cobb’s children returned home safely.
Similar to 1917 and ’18, during the First World War, pundits questioned whether baseball should continue in spite of the destabilized conditions. On his soap box, Cobb was adamant about the sport carrying on unmolested. “Baseball deserves the right to operate,” he declared. “It’s a great American institution.”24 In another interview, he asserted that he wanted baseball to have “some official recognition that is essential to morale,” and announced that “If worst came to worst, I’d get back into harness myself to help preserve it.”25 Cobb was fifty-seven years old at the time. Additionally, he was defensive of players in the military, especially against those condemning athletes in noncombat positions, saying that it was “unfair.” The same kind of accusations cropped up when he was in the service. “Not one player could, if he wanted to, ask for some soft assignment or one where he plays baseball,” he said. “It’s not done.”26
Cobb’s compassion for the military extended even further. He united with fellow baseball alumni from the Northern California region and visited wounded veterans at area hospitals from the naval facility at Mare Island to Letterman General at San Francisco. His crew of traveling companions included Tony Lazzeri, Lefty O’Doul, Oscar Vitt, and Bill Lange.27 During a trip to Denver in April 1945, Cobb and Vitt specifically planned to visit two health care centers to spend time with wounded warriors.28 A special part of their routine was to visit bedridden soldiers recently returned from overseas, and their presence undoubtedly did much to raise their spirits.
The sizable San Francisco sporting community, plus the vast surrounding area, was never at a loss for social events, and Cobb was busy attending dinners, on the golf course, and hosting friends at his Atherton home. Away from California, he often returned to Detroit and circulated with friends old and new. He loved to talk baseball, and although watching the on-field action made him nervous, he had a gold lifetime pass to enter any major league ballpark, and attended games when he had a chance.29 On July 14, 1943, he saw a game in Detroit featuring military and essential work personnel as the Great Lakes Bluejackets, managed by U.S. Naval officer Mickey Cochrane, beat the Ford League All-Stars, 6–2. Cobb was joined in the stands by Tris Speaker and Wally Pipp.30 During the summer of 1944, he attended a benefit in Seattle and planned to make the Connie Mack 50th anniversary celebration in Philadelphia, but caught poison oak and was forced to miss the affair.31
In May 1945, Cobb graciously accepted the managerial position of a western squad of high school all-stars headed to New York for an August 28 battle against their eastern counterparts. Babe Ruth signed on to lead the eastern team, and their rivalry was rekindled to a degree in the press. The entire affair, organized by Esquire magazine, was masterfully promoted, and Cobb talked up the contest with Harry Wismer on ABC radio beforehand.32 The game itself was witnessed by 20,000 people, and Cobb’s team held a solid lead going into the ninth inning. But in a similar fashion to his days in Detroit, his pitchers crumbled, giving up three runs, and his youngsters were defeated.33 Cobb, Ruth, and Speaker were reunited again at Cleveland for an Indians game versus the White Sox on August 18, 1946, and fans respectfully honored the trio with a prolonged applause.
One aspect that Cobb never really had to contend with earlier in life was his health. He was always in tip-top shape, and his body remained strong regardless of the strain he put it through. After his retirement, Cobb settled into a new lifestyle, and was a lot less active than he used to be. Golf was no substitute for baseball, and he gained weight steadily. Following exposure to rain during a hunting trip in 1946, he developed a severe case of bursitis in his limbs, and he became more inactive than usual. His weight jumped to 230 pounds and he began experiencing a loss of appetite, weakness, and bouts of itching. After an examination by a doctor in Reno in 1947, it was found that Cobb was suffering from gall bladder trouble, an enlarged liver, and the early stages of jaundice. Likely caused by a virus, his ailment required immediate attention, and he was placed on a very strict low calorie diet.34
It wasn’t coincidental that his health began to fail during a time of extreme stress. His wife, Charlie, who moved into her own residence at 84 Princeton Road in nearby Menlo Park in 1939, wanted a divorce, and reaching a compromise in light of the family’s widespread financial holdings was proving difficult.35 The suit, initiated by Charlie in March 1947, unleashed a stream of bad publicity his way, including the charge that he was responsible for a “continued course of extreme cruelty from the date of the marriage [in 1
908] to the present time.” She asked for half of the Cobb fortune, a total amount she believed to be greater than $7 million, and other monetary stipulations. Ty denied their estimated wealth, asking, “Would you reporters like to place a little wager on it? I’ll give you everything over $7 million.” Strangely, he said he didn’t know his wife’s Christian name, saying, “Why don’t you ask her?”36
Known to be exceptionally persuasive, Ty convinced Charlie to drop her suit in San Mateo County, and she did on March 15. He told his investment banker Joe Hauck that he had proposed settlement terms three times, but she turned him down.37 Finally, the Cobbs severed legal ties after thirty-eight years of marriage on June 17, 1947, agreeing to conditions that were much different than those originally asked by Charlie. The arrangement allowed her to keep all stock in her name and joint custody of their Atherton home, amongst other things, but the majority of Ty’s money remained his and his alone.38
Ever since his separation from Charlie in 1939, Cobb reveled in his private sanctuary at Cave Rock, Nevada, a home he purchased that year on the eastern shore of Lake Tahoe. The residence, over 230 miles from Atherton on U.S. Highway 50, provided a needed getaway during the summer months, and he enjoyed the scenic outdoor recreation.39 While visiting the nearby Glenbrook Inn, an upscale hotel for vacationers, in June 1949, Cobb met Frances Fairbairn Fusca, a twice-married thirty-nine-year-old from Buffalo, New York, in town with her teenage daughter, Geraldine. Over the next few weeks and months, Ty and Frances endured a whirlwind courtship, and Cobb was infatuated by her. “She is the most unusual woman I have ever met,” he told Joe Hauck by letter. “She knows more about more subjects, so diplomatic and delicate and more form and etiquette, etc. She waits on me hand and foot, thinks for me. She is a wonder.”40
Bonded by similar interests—particularly golf and traveling—the couple was married on September 24, 1949, at a private ceremony in Buffalo. They attended the World Series in New York City as part of their honeymoon, and watched the Yankees dismantle the Brooklyn Dodgers in five games.41 Hobnobbing at the Stork Club in Manhattan and the Brown Derby in Hollywood, the Cobbs were highly visible on the social scene and seemingly couldn’t be happier. In terms of making public appearances, few were larger than the celebration oilman Dick Burnett was planning for the Texas League opener of his Dallas Eagles on April 11, 1950. Burnett extended invitations to Cobb and eight other baseball legends to attend as special attractions, and offered to pay all their expenses. Cobb was so enthusiastic about the affair that he told Burnett that he’d pay his own way to Dallas.42
The superstars participated in a luncheon promotional gig the day of the game and offered commentary on the radio. They each were asked about their favorite moments in baseball and many had the crowd in stitches. Cobb stepped up when it was his turn and was setting up a potentially off-color punch line involving his old Tigers teammate, Davy Jones. As he was proceeding, someone close to him leaned in and informed him about the radio broadcast. “Oh,” Cobb said, “I’ve just been told that we’re on the air and I’d better not tell that story. Guess I’d better retreat from that one.” The audience got a big chuckle out of it. That evening, over 53,000 individuals packed the Cotton Bowl for the event, and a few of the legends on hand, including Tris Speaker, performed a batting exhibition before the contest. In old form, Cobb dropped down a few bunts, and even slashed one over second base.43
Cobb remained busy, and journeyed to innumerable dinners, dedications, and reunion events across the country. He mingled with fellow Hall of Famers and swapped stories with friends he hadn’t seen in years. The financial security he’d built up over the decades gave him and his wife the freedom to travel when they wanted, and all Cobb needed was a heads-up about the next essential get-together. He was comfortable knowing that his business investments were on autopilot and needed only slight attention. For instance, his Coca-Cola Bottling Company at Twin Falls, Idaho, had been run by his son, Herschel, since it was initially purchased in 1940, and Ty left the management up to him.44 When he trekked to Idaho, he was usually more interested in visiting with his grandchildren and hunting than he was in overseeing the day-to-day business operations.
Physically imposing, Herschel Cobb had lived a turbulent life going back to his teenage years. In 1935, he faced assault charges on a nineteen-year-old girl in San Mateo County, California, but was later acquitted.45 He was up against an even more serious charge in Idaho in 1949, after the drowning death of a man who had been riding on a boat Herschel was driving. The boat actually capsized after a sharp turn, and Glenn Linzy succumbed while in the water. Hauled into court on an involuntary manslaughter charge, Herschel claimed the accident was caused by a power failure, and a jury found him not guilty.46 In early 1950, a damage suit by the man’s family was settled out of court. Around that same time, Herschel returned to California and became the Coca-Cola distributor for San Luis Obispo County and Northern Santa Barbara County, doing business from Santa Maria.47
The relationship between father and son was always special to Ty Cobb, and recollections of his own dad were heartwarming. He was a regular at the organized annual Father and Sons gatherings, staged by the Elks in Northern California, and made a conscious effort to be a better father in his old age than he was as a younger man. But he was everlastingly stubborn, and arguments came quickly in the Cobb household. In a lot of ways, Herschel was a darker and more exaggerated version of his father, especially in the way he related to his wife and kids. His venomous personality was highlighted in the 2013 book Heart of a Tiger, written by his son of the same name.48 On April 13, 1951, at the age of thirty-three, Herschel passed away unexpectedly of a heart attack, leaving his wife and three small children. Ty was crushed by the loss of his son.
Further sadness was ahead. The rift that alienated Cobb from his son, Ty Jr., was longstanding and compounded by other quarrels. They remained estranged for years with Junior on one coast and his father on the other. In 1915, Ty told a journalist that he didn’t want his namesake entering the athletic world, instead, he hoped he’d become a lawyer or a “good doctor.”49 Junior followed through and graduated with his medical degree in obstetrics and gynecology in the early 1940s. He formed a practice at Dublin, Georgia, and with a wife and three children, was proving to be a laudable father and provider. Things took a shocking turn when, in 1952, it was found that he had a malignant tumor in his brain. Ty Jr. underwent surgery at Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center in New York, but his condition never improved. He passed away on September 9 at the age of forty-two.50
Over the previous years, and considering the progression of the elder Cobb’s own health problems, it was presumed that his condition deteriorated in part by the stresses in his life. Joe Hauck wrote a letter to Ty Jr. in 1948, suggesting the same thing. He wrote, “I personally think [Ty Sr.] has been brooding over his troubles and his nervous system has borne the brunt of this. I feel that his unhappy mental condition is to a large extent due to the lack of understanding which exists between you.”51 The anxiety caused by being estranged was agonizing, but the loss of two sons in two years created an intolerable suffering for Cobb. The internal guilt and pain was manifesting into an unmanageable struggle that would continue to sap his health. His reliance on alcohol was also contributing to his growing number of personal tribulations.52
Still greatly respected by the mainstream, Cobb was called before the U.S. House of Representatives Judiciary Subcommittee investigating baseball in Washington, D.C. on July 30, 1951. He discussed his long history in baseball starting at age seventeen in Augusta and, in defense of baseball against antitrust charges, supported the reserve clause. He said that the national pastime was a “sport,” not an “industry,” and clearly expressed his opinions. “Baseball has made it possible for hundreds of young men from small towns, like myself, to improve their lot in life and become useful members of their communities,” he explained. “I revere baseball. I’m loyal to it for what it has done for me.”53
But Cobb’s loyalty wasn’t always clear-cut. In two separate articles featured in Life magazine in March 1952, he took a number of heavy-handed swings at modern baseball, asserting that contemporary players didn’t learn the fundamentals of the game, run the bases well, or matchup with the athletes from his generation. The title of the series, “They Don’t Play Baseball Any More,” summed up his sentiment, and he didn’t hold a thing back, hitting upon the weaknesses of Rogers Hornsby, Ted Williams, and Joe DiMaggio with authority. His controversial remarks, spread out over eighteen total pages, were eye-opening to say the least, and generated a wealth of conversation.54 Needless to say, most of the comments were critical toward Cobb and in defense of the current status of the game. Bucky Harris called him “nuts,” and Dizzy Dean declared that Cobb was “making himself mighty unpopular.”55
And that was certainly true. The articles did significant damage to Cobb’s reputation, and years of goodwill to fellow players, both in the press and on tour to stadiums across the majors, crumbled around him. Hornsby, who idolized Cobb and always recognized him as one of his all-time heroes, renounced that distinction as a result of the Life article, replacing him with Joe Jackson. He also offered a full rebuttal in Look magazine.56 Fiery Billy Martin of the New York Yankees took a more direct tact. During a speech in California, he specifically turned to Cobb and said, “No matter what some people tell you, this game of baseball is still being played for keeps.” At that same event, Cobb announced that he was done writing articles, stating that it “caused too much of a turmoil and got too many people mad at me. From now on I’m taking life easy out here in California and leaving that sort of thing to other people.”57