War on the Basepaths Page 6
Ty Cobb was the next major acquisition, and it was the single most important move Detroit made to date—and arguably in history. The visual reports of Cobb’s worthiness came that spring at Augusta, and word of his impressive batting during the 1905 South Athletic League season circulated freely throughout the nation. Bill Coughlin and Bill Donovan, active Detroit players, both would later take responsibility for “discovering” Cobb, and they weren’t the only ones. But regardless of who put the thought in the minds of Armour and Navin or that Detroit representatives initially thought he was a “nut” during the 1905 spring training games, the trigger was pulled, and arrangements were made to sign Cobb.31 A total of $500 was paid to Augusta for his release, with an additional $200 sent to ensure that he joined the club as soon as humanly possible. Cobb would reportedly agree to a standard rookie salary of $1,800, which amounted to about $300 a month.32
The purchase of Cobb was arranged to supplement Detroit’s weakened outfield. Although Cooley was batting well and popular with fans, he was not the blazing centerfield leadoff man that Barrett was. Cooley was also either ill or reportedly injured at the time of Cobb’s importation. Cobb was uniquely speedy, a report in The Sporting News stating that veterans of the South Athletic League believed Cobb was “the fastest youngster that ever broke into professional ball,” and Armour wanted to test his quality against major-league competition.33 It was a rare opportunity for an eighteen-year-old to step into the limelight of a big-time stadium and display his wares outside the harsh regular spring audition period. For Cobb, he was joining the team in late August and facing no real job competition. Nowhere was his future position with the Tigers guaranteed, but it was a chance of a lifetime. Unfortunately, the stroke of good fortune had emerged only weeks after the death of his father.
Cobb’s emotions, unquestionably, were mixed. The excitement of becoming a ballplayer on the grandest stage was balanced against the loss of the most influential person in his life. He was excited and enthusiastic, but anxious and angry at the same time. The reasoning behind his father’s killing remained murky and, logically, he knew that it was something that didn’t necessarily have to happen. A certain amount of confusion still remained, and there was no way to know whether the answers rested on the baseball diamond or in a courtroom. But his destiny was already decided for him, as his services were purchased by Detroit.
Announcement of Cobb’s procurement was made by club officials on August 22, 1905, and, exactly seven days later, he arrived in Detroit for the first time.34 The city, which was three times more populated than Atlanta—the largest metropolis Cobb had seen in his young life—was dark, but still intimidating. The fact that the team didn’t send anyone to meet him at the train depot didn’t help his apprehensive nature, but he plugged on, found a hotel, and rested his head.35 He held on to the words members of his family had given him before he left Royston, reminding him to heed the directives of his leaders and conduct himself in a responsible manner.36
In a way, he hoped that the same kind of mentorship and encouragement his Augusta manager George Leidy offered was prevalent on the Tigers. It seemed reasonable enough that even though his first instinct was to distrust, if he was met by a generally welcoming atmosphere, there was little doubt he’d react positively both on and off the field.
The bottom line was that Cobb wasn’t a well-adjusted young man. Being asked to report to the majors so soon after his father’s murder was almost asking too much of anyone, let alone a born fighter with a Rock of Gibraltar-sized monkey on his back. His body was almost moving too fast for his mind, completing physical tasks, but not altering his mindset to deal with the enormity of what had occurred back home. But he was certainly following his dreams. Cobb was acting, for the most part, on complete intuition and pushed by an inner fire to succeed at all costs. Failure was not an option.
Even before his first appearance at Bennett Field, Cobb was hyped in local newspapers. The Detroit Free Press stated he was a “natural born hitter,” reflecting on his .326 average in the South Atlantic League, and acknowledged that he was a “tricky” batter, able to disorientate fielders by utilizing a skillful bunt and impressive speed.37 Other reports labeled him “Cyrus Cobb,” but the written content remained positive. He was a leading prospect and his midweek debut on August 30 was highly anticipated by those who’d read the exciting headlines. To Cobb himself, donning Tigers garb for the first time was a proud moment.38 He was wearing the uniform of a big leaguer and ready to challenge his own capabilities on the field of play against the best that baseball had to offer.
The leadership of Armour, with an assist from Captain Coughlin, inspired Detroit at times to demonstrate an unusual degree of heart, and optimism renewed itself on occasion.39 Armour was getting solid work from many of his hired guns, especially right-fielder Sam Crawford. Crawford, nicknamed “Wahoo” after his hometown of Wahoo, Nebraska, a hamlet 40-odd miles west of Omaha, was the heaviest hitter on the Tigers and one of the best sluggers in the majors.40 At 6’ tall and upwards of 190 pounds, he was powerfully built (for that time) and, routinely through the years, sportswriters have commented that had Crawford played in the live-ball era, he surely would be amongst the all-time home run leaders. He was known for his long swing, his shockingly potent right-field drives, and was popular around the clubhouse.41
Coming off his worst year in 1904, having batted just .254, Crawford was determined to return to his former self. His move to first base also showed his versatility and value to the team as an all-round athlete. Over in left field, Matty McIntyre, a twenty-five-year-old in his third major-league season, was a top-notch fielder and a promising hitter. Originally from Connecticut, he grew up on Staten Island, New York, of Irish descent, and was a genuinely intelligent ballplayer. He was also a practical joker, and oftentimes went out of his way to razz teammates. A good example of McIntyre’s light-hearted nature came later in his career, when he first joined the Chicago White Sox for the 1911 spring training camp in Texas. He went to great lengths to stage a fake break-in at the clubhouse by moving all of the team’s equipment and personal items out prior to the arrival of players one morning. Needless to say, after a few scary moments for the team, McIntyre had a good laugh.42 Of Cobb’s two future outfield partners, it was hard not to admire Crawford, and difficult not to occasionally smirk at the shenanigans of McIntyre.
Upon his first meeting with Armour, Cobb was impressed by the leadership and methodology of his new manager.43 There wasn’t much time for a lengthy orientation process, as he was going straight into the lineup on August 30. Cobb absorbed what little information and advice he received, but was obviously travel weary and nearly overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the happenings around him. That afternoon, he tried to shed his nervousness and allow his instincts to kick in because, essentially, the game of baseball was the only thing he could relate to the others around him. The different style of mannerisms, conversation, and attitudes were foreign, and although he wasn’t from a distant planet, being from a smallish corner of the South limited his worldly experience. Overall, Cobb stood out like a sore thumb.
Despite Cobb’s efforts to maintain his coolness, observers still sensed his anxiety. H.G. Salsinger, viewing the 5’10”, 155 pound Cobb, described him as “gawky-looking” in his first appearance.44 As he stood at the plate for the initial time in the bottom of the first inning, looking across from future Hall of Fame pitcher Jack Chesbro of the New York Highlanders, one could only imagine what was coursing through his mind. With two outs and Chris Lindsay on second, Cobb swung and missed the first pitch, and then watched another go by for a strike. The tension rose, but Cobb didn’t back down. He reached out for another Chesbro offering and made contact, launching the ball to centerfield and over the head of Ed Hahn. Lindsay scored and Cobb raced to second, where he’d remain until the end of the inning.45 Cobb also walked and made two putouts in the field. It was an impressive start to say the least.
For a rookie feeling the weig
ht of the world, Cobb didn’t lose his composure, and while not immediately recognized as an All-Star-caliber player, he was given his due in the press. The Detroit Free Press called his debut “satisfactory,” and mentioned how he was “well-received.”46 Another report in the Free Press explained that if Cobb hit .275, it would be satisfactory to all, and that no one expected him to lead the American League in batting like he did in the S.A.L.47 Before the end of the series against New York, he had a run-in with Highlander shortstop Kid Elberfeld, which was recounted in Cobb’s 1961 biography, Ty Cobb: My Life in Baseball. Cobb remembered sliding headfirst into second and Elberfeld dropping his knee onto his neck in what would ultimately become a significant early base-running lesson. Not only was he out on the play, but he realized that many of the tricks he made successful at Augusta were not going to work against big leaguers.
The next time the two teams met, Cobb demonstrated a smarter, more potent feet-first slide, and was actually safe against Elberfeld. The latter paid him a small compliment for his efforts, and Cobb noted that nothing gave him “a greater lift than Elberfeld’s spontaneous gesture of sportsmanship” in either 1905 or ’06.48 Such a statement was somewhat shocking, considering he played 139 games in that period and was around innumerable teammates, coaches, managers, and other officials. But it was indicative of the cold environment Cobb found himself in and the lack of real, personal tutelage and encouragement he had while a rookie member of the Tigers.
Barrett made several unsuccessful attempts to return from injury and Cooley, who was said to have had a poor arm from the outfield, was ultimately released in favor of Cobb.49 With firm hold of the centerfield position, the youngster expectedly performed as a raw recruit would, making outstanding plays and absurd mistakes. Sometimes his own enthusiasm got the best of him, causing him to overstep, over-slide, or overreach his recommended bounds. B. F. Wright believed that Cobb was “too fast” for the health of the Tigers, demonstrated by his willingness to run into right and left field, intruding on the regions covered by Crawford and McIntyre to snare flies.50 Maybe it was just Cobb trying too hard. One example occurred in the second game of a doubleheader against the White Sox on September 5, 1905, when he went after a ball clearly in McIntyre’s grasp, knocking it loose and causing an error credited to McIntyre. The game was close and in the ninth inning, so the blunder could have cost Detroit the game. It didn’t, fortunately, and the Tigers won, 3–2.51
Such a maneuver fed the early perception that Cobb was trying to “hot dog” and steal the limelight out from under his teammates. Even if the error was chalked up to general anxiousness that couldn’t really be controlled, Cobb was still figured as a scene stealer, and McIntyre was the first to develop bad feelings. Incidentally, the day before the gaffe, Cobb reacted perfectly to a drive by White Sox first baseman Jiggs Donahue in the fourth inning and made what the Detroit Free Press called a “sensational catch.” The Detroit crowd of 7,500 gave him a standing ovation and Cobb lifted his cap several times in response to the ruckus en route to the dugout.52
Cobb’s daring was also already on display. Versus Addie Joss of Cleveland on September 12, he reached first in the ninth inning on a slow grounder by speed and speed alone. After getting to second on a sacrifice, he waited for the right moment to advance, and it came when McIntyre attained an infield hit. Cobb rushed to third and although any further running was inadvisable, he kept going and compelled Cleveland’s George Stovall to make a rushed throw to the plate. It was off target and Cobb scored. Detroit took the game, 4–3.53
Going through the circuit and facing each team, Cobb started to pick up various tidbits of information; which runners were faster than others, and particularly the dynamics of certain pitchers. He made assists from the outfield, completed at least one double-play, and aided his pitchers when they were in a jam. On offense, he sacrificed, stole a few bases, and offered occasional timely hitting. He had much to learn, but Armour was impressed by his abilities, as were baseball fans around the league.
Over the final stretch of the 1905 season, the Tigers battled back to .500, then soon returned to the top four and captured victories in 24 of 37 games played.54 Some people believed it was Cobb’s spark that kickstarted the successful run of the Tigers.55 Detroit would finish third when the final bell tolled with a 79–74 record, their first winning record since their inaugural season of 1901. The remarkable turnaround was the talk of baseball in many quarters and, without any delay, predictions for 1906 had the Tigers amongst the top clubs in the American League. But there was a dark undercurrent to all the hype, statistics, and fanaticism. Detroit had the worst home attendance in the league and when Boston sportswriter Fred P. O’Connell called it a “dead baseball town” in August, he was seemingly right. He intimated that, if any consolidation of teams was to occur in the majors, Detroit would be a surefire candidate for elimination.56 Another rumor circulated that Detroit management was going to transfer the Tigers to Toledo.57 These topics, however, were more gossip than anything else.
Cobb finished 1905 with a .240 batting average.58 He was honest in his 1961 biography, stating that he wasn’t a “born ballplayer,” and that it was “highly dubious” that he’d be brought back the following season based on his ghastly performance.59 He was, in his own head, revealing his self-doubt, but Cobb was not going to be left off the 1906 spring training roster regardless of how he felt at the conclusion of 1905. That was the opinion of manager Bill Armour, the man pulling the strings. Armour knew there would be more competition for outfield slots in the coming year, but if Cobb still yearned to prove himself, he’d have many more opportunities to do so.
Two exhibition games followed the regular season, one in Jackson, Michigan, and the other a benefit sendoff at Bennett Park. The Tigers won both, garnering about $80 extra per player.60 The funds came in handy for road expenses going home, and Sporting Life revealed that Cobb was headed back to Royston with a particularly grueling job ahead. He was responsible for the finalization of his late father’s estate and, because of the length of time required to do so, he needed an assist from an uncle to ensure he could return to baseball on time the following year.61 On November 30, he attended the Georgia Tech–Clemson football game at Atlanta and spoke with a local newspaper. He apparently repressed any of his concerns and boldly gave his opinion that he’d be in centerfield for the Tigers in 1906.62
The only problem with acquiring any semblance of overconfidence was that Armour and Navin had made previous arrangements to bolster the club’s outfield. The August before, Davy Jones, a Wisconsin athlete with several years of pro experience (including spells with the Chicago Cubs and St. Louis Browns), was obtained from the Minneapolis Millers of the American Association.63 Jones was an incredible speedster and claimed to have race victories over Archie Hahn prior to the latter’s Olympic track conquests in the early 1900s.64 He was touted as the fastest man in the American Association, and his .346 batting average was nothing to sneeze at. A graduate of law school, Jones never originally figured on becoming a ballplayer, but his athletic skills were too advanced to ignore.
The expected arrival of Jones should have reduced Cobb’s confidence in any automatic return to the outfield. It was now a matter of competition and which player wanted the position most. Nevertheless, Cobb had reason to be content. A few months earlier, he spoke with Armour about a proposed contract for ’06, and the manager offered him $1,200 for the upcoming season. Seeming reasonable enough, Cobb verbally accepted the terms. When the document arrived in January 1906, he saw that the amount had been bumped up to $1,500 for the season of work. Armour, in a letter sent around the same time, informed Cobb that he had a “bright future,” and management wanted to ensure he was pleased by their offering.65 He was, and his contract was signed and promptly returned.66
With the contract offered, Armour did have a singular request for Cobb. The Tigers were returning to Augusta for spring training in 1906, and since Cobb was already spending time in the region, Armour
wanted him to venture over to Warren Park, the central ball field in town, and get a look at the playing ground to assess its condition. Cobb did what he was asked and sent a missive back to Armour, explaining that the field was in awful shape.67 A carnival had recently used the land and destroyed what was considered a superior field, and Armour didn’t take the news lightly. In fact, word of the terrible conditions at Augusta circulated far and wide. Locals, according to the Detroit Free Press, took offense to Cobb’s assertions about Warren Park, demonstrating the pride they had in their community.68 This report was contradicted by later stories that Augusta was firmly behind Cobb during spring training.69 But the truth of the matter remained the same, and the field needed intensive care to be ready for the Tigers to train.
Cobb had a request for Armour too. He asked for permission to accept a fine proposal to coach a college prep baseball squad at the University School for Boys in Stone Mountain, Georgia. The gig would eat into the first few days of spring workouts and, for that reason, Armour refused.70 He wanted Cobb to get the most from their training sessions, and, in turn, the press claimed that Cobb had come to the same conclusion, rejecting the opportunity.71
But that isn’t what happened. Cobb ended up going to Stone Mountain anyway, and spent about two weeks as an instructor there. He met with the Tigers as they passed through Atlanta en route to Augusta on March 4,72 but he personally didn’t report until four days later.73 It is unclear whether Cobb directly defied Armour by taking the coaching position or whether there was a mutual agreement. However, it didn’t appear to affect their relationship.