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IT’S THE GREATEST MYSTERY IN THE HISTORY OF SPORTS.
It’s one of the greatest mysteries of the twentieth century.
And I was the only person in the world who could
solve it.
These are the facts:
The date: October 1, 1932
The place: Wrigley Field, Chicago, Illinois
The situation: The Chicago Cubs and New York
Yankees played Game Three of the World Series on this
day. In the fifth inning, Babe Ruth belted a long home
run to straightaway centerfield.
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No moment in baseball history is more important than the April day
in 1947 when Jackie Robinson stepped onto Ebbets Field, ending a ban
that had extended back to 1882 prohibiting African Americans from fully
participating in the National Pastime. “Cap” Anson’s dictum, in 1882, of
“Get that nigger off the field,” referring to the presence of black player
Moses Fleetwood Walker on a Major League ground, merely reflected
the overwhelming social attitude of the day. But in 1947 baseball no
longer followed custom, but changed it. Branch Rickey and Jackie Robinson’s
integration plans went beyond challengingMajor League baseball’s
apartheid policies, their actions set in motion and preceded, by...
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THE FIRST TIME I TOUCHED A BASEBALL CARD, I FELT
A strange tingling sensation all over my body.
It was sort of like the feeling you get when you
touch your fingers lightly against a television screen
when the set is on. Static electricity jumps off the glass
and onto your skin, or something like that. I’ll never
forget it.
I must have been four or five the first time this
happened, but ever since then I’ve felt that feeling
whenever I touched certain baseball cards. It’s kind
of creepy.
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“SEE THE BALL. HIT THE BALL,” OUR COACH, FLIP
Valentini, was telling the guys when I skidded my
bike up to the dugout at Dunn Field. “Catch it.
Throw it. And show up on time or you don’t play. It’s
a simple game, boys.”
Flip ought to know. He pitched for the Brooklyn
Dodgers in their glory years. He was with
Cincinnati and Pittsburgh too for a while. Flip won
287 games and struck out almost 3,000 batters
during his career. He’s in the Baseball Hall of Fame.
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“The Wilderness.” That is how author and Cubs fan David Claerbaut
described Chicago Cub history between 1946 and 1966 in his book, Durocher’s
Cubs: The Greatest Team That Didn’t Win.1 Claerbaut’s imagery of a team wandering
in an expansive, unknown land is perfect. In that forgettable two-decade
period, the Cubs had only three seasons with a .500 or better record. Their
best year followed the 1945 World Series when they registered an 82–71 mark.
In 1952, the Cubs finished even at 77–77, and in 1963 the team crept over the
.500 mark at 82–80. Those numbers only partially tell the story of Cub futility
in the immediate post–World...
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Andruw Jones, all of 19 years old, nonchalantly waved his
bat toward Andy Pettitte, the New York Yankees’ starting
pitcher in Game 1 of the 1996 World Series. It was the second
inning, and the game was scoreless. Neither the young Braves
phenom nor the crafty Yankee left-hander knew it, but baseball
history was about to be made. That was all right, because
nobody else expected anything special, either.
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The front page of the Sunday New York Times is a forum reserved for
the most important news of our nation and culture. So it seems fitting
that the edition of July 8, 2001, carried a story on the discovery of evidence
showing that young men were playing an organized brand of
baseball in Manhattan as early as 1823. This, of course, was twentythree
years before the New York Knickerbockers played the first match
under a written set of rules at Hoboken, New Jersey, long considered
a watershed moment for the organization of formal baseball teams.
It was also sixteen years before the mythic date of 1839, when...
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I’ve been a diehard baseball fan since I was old enough to turn on
the TV—which was a little harder back then since there were no
remotes. There was also no fantasy baseball, which meant I grew
up watching games and reading box scores just for the fun of it. That’s
probably why, truth be told, I never had much use for the fantasy
game. I had always regarded myself as something of a purist, and
I fi gured fantasy baseball served mainly to muddle the traditional
concept of simply being a fan of your team and its players....
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The authoritative compendium of facts, statistics, photographs, and analysis that defines baseball in its formative first decades.
This comprehensive reference work covers the early years of major league baseball from the first game—May 4, 1871, a 2-0 victory for the Fort Wayne Kekiongas over the visiting Cleveland Forest City team—through the 1900 season. Baseball historian David Nemec presents complete team rosters and detailed player, manager, and umpire information, with a wealth of statistics to warm a fan’s heart.
Sidebars cover a variety of topics, from oddities—the team that had the best record but finished second—to analyses of why Cleveland didn’t...
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Your team is a loser.
They’re not irredeemably awful—they have a handful of elite performers,
and there are worse clubs. But your team isn’t within hailing
distance of the truly great teams of the day. They’re graced with
the odd All-Star and what seems to be a spare menagerie of haphazardly
identified prospects, but your team’s high command does a poor
job of filling out the roster and navigating the club through the treacherous
shoals of the late season. They either mindlessly adhere to the
tactical approaches of the past or, on occasion, fecklessly ape the strategy
du jour. They misread the markets, judge hitters with flawed metrics,
and fail...
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Let’s begin with the sound of a bat hitting a baseball. Nothing
is as distinctive as the sound of a well-hit ball coming
off the sweet spot of a wooden bat. It is a sound that rouses
baseball fans everywhere to stand up in excited anticipation of
runs about to be scored. It can send fielders scurrying in one
direction or another, trying to get a jump on the ball. It also
tells the catcher, still in his squat, that the last pitch he called
was probably a huge mistake. Today in Major League Baseball,
nobody produces that distinctive “thwack” as consistently as
Albert Pujols, the first baseman for...
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It had taken him nearly six weeks to make the call.
After contemplating the pain in his knee and the
aftereffects of a severe case of the flu (brought on by
a half-dozen cross-country trips at the end of the season),
he decided he would come back for his 53rd
year in baseball. On this day, Don Zimmer found
himself strolling among the images of the game's
immortals in the Hall of Fame. Outside, the grounds
were covered with a fresh coating of snow, temperatures
hovering in the 20s, and all those summers in
Brooklyn, Los Angeles, Cincinnati, Washington,
Tokyo, San Diego, Boston, Texas, Chicago, Denver,
and the Bronx never seemed so...
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FOR HOWIE, IT WAS, at last, neither resignation
on the one hand, nor anger on the other.
No, it was simply awful, horrible disappointment
that tore him apart. That it all must end this way.
No, not this way. Any way it ended would be a calamity,
for despair would follow, and Howie understood himself
well enough to know that he did not possess the creative
resources ever to really overcome that despair.
“I’m a dead man. I know I won’t get outta Baltimore
alive.”
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Hello, my name is Gabe Costa. My co-authors, Michael R. Huber and
John T. Saccoman, and I are grateful that you are looking at this book. Practicing
Sabermetrics is a follow-up to Understanding Sabermetrics, which was
published in early 2008 by McFarland.
Mike, John and I are professors of mathematics and life-long fans of the
national pastime. We have been fortunate to combine our interests in a singular
way: by teaching courses on sabermetrics for over twenty years. The
term “sabermetrics” was coined by the noted baseball author and researcher
Bill James, who defined it as the search for objective knowledge about baseball
(the “saber” part comes from the...
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A STRANGE help-wanted ad appeared in a New York newspaper
in 1903. It asked for a boy who had never seen a baseball game
and did not know the difference between first and third base. Struck
by this unlikely request, the Washington Post commented that if such
a youngster could be found, he would be fit only to crawl off somewhere
and die and become a subject for some bugologist's experiment.
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T his book of baseball history is unique. It is the first one devoted entirely
to those players and teams who played baseball outside so-called Organized
Baseball—that is, the professional major and minor leagues—up to World
War II. For baseball may be likened to a large house containing many rooms
occupied by a wide variety of baseball tenants—college players, members
of the armed forces, industrial players, semipros, blacks, women, Indians,
town team players, and softballers. Five chapters are devoted to blacks before
segregation compelled them to form their own professional leagues. The
story of women has also required an equal number of chapters. Organized
Baseball is mentioned only incidentally,...
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If there’s one thing Jews like to do, it’s argue. Many of you
reading this book are nodding sagely in agreement. Some
of you, however, rose to your feet indignantly to dispute my
blatant generalization. Either way, my point is proven.
Our passions are often brought to bear on the great issues
of the day facing our people. What will be done to bring
about peace for Israel? How do we resolve the fundamental
questions of what Judaism will be in the 21st century?
Is intermarriage something to embrace, or will it tear our
community apart forever?...
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There is no greater feeling in sports than the one a player gets
when his teammates are genuinely excited over one of his own
personal accomplishments—excited just to be his teammate.
What I remember is that everybody was right there celebrating
with me, as if my record was their record, too. A player can’t
ask for any more than that.
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Management consultant by day, major–league-baseball writer by
night, I didn’t see the connection between my two jobs. Then came
the day I witnessed a remarkably self-destructive client insist on a foolish
decision—and in the evening watched the worst manager of post–World
War II baseball destroy his team’s slender chances for the season with a
boneheaded move hauntingly identical to my client’s.
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It’s the last inning of an important
game. A powerful hitter comes up
to the plate. Will the pitcher be able
to get the batter out? Another man
walks out of the home team’s dugout.
He walks to the pitcher’s mound.
He tells the pitcher what to do. The
other man is the manager.
A manager is the head coach of
a baseball team.
He decides which
players play in
games. He decides
when to take a
player out of a
game. He studies
information
about the team
his players are
facing and uses
that information
to give his players
instructions....
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This is a reference book. The reader has the right to expect a clearly defined scope, specific
criteria for inclusion, and 100 percent inclusion of everything that meets those criteria.
Those were the objectives of A Biographical Dictionary of the Baseball Hall of Fame when the
first edition was published in 2000. They remain the same with this second edition—which
has been updated to include more than 50 new biographies of players, managers, umpires,
baseball executives, broadcasters and writers who have earned their place among the greats of
the game in the past eight years.
Those objectives are easily met in this work, as they were in...
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These past few years, all you had to do was turn on a radio or flip to a sports cable channel, and you could count on hearing some blowhard give you his opinion about steroids and baseball and what it says about our society and blah blah blah. Well, enough already. I'm tired of hearing such short-sighted crap from people who have no idea what they're talking about. Steroids are here to stay. That's a fact. I guarantee it. Steroids are the future. By the time my eight-year-old daughter, Josie, has graduated from high school, a majority of all professional...
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To conclude my doctoral studies as a graduate student in economics at
Georgia State University in 1977, I completed a dissertation titled “An Economic
Analysis of Franchise Relocation and League Expansion in Professional
Team Sports, 1950–1975.” Then 22 years later, I co-authored with John J.
Guthrie, Jr., a book named Relocating Teams and Expanding Leagues in Professional
Sports: How the Major Leagues Respond to Market Conditions. That
volume, in turn, analyzed the expansions of various leagues and movements
of their teams from 1950 to 1995. The book highlighted the strategies of such
American-based professional sports organizations as Major League Baseball,
the National Basketball Association, and the National Football League....
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Ever since Taiwan captured its fi rst Little League Baseball world series
title in 1969, baseball has been a sport in which the Taiwanese people
have taken deep pride. Over the next twenty-seven years Taiwan appeared
in the annual tournament twenty-one times and captured seventeen
titles.
I have followed Taiwanese national teams since I was small. Like
many fellow islanders, I watched live Little League tournament games
on television late into the night as I sipped instant noodles, a favorite
snack in Taiwan. Thankfully, tournaments were held during summer
vacations so that I didn’t have to worry about school. I was fi lled with
excitement and joy at that time,...
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I am most grateful to the following people who generously agreed
to personal interviews: Commissioner of Baseball Bud Selig and
former commissioners Bowie Kuhn, Peter Ueberroth, and Fay
Vincent; as well as Tal Smith, Roland Hemond, Cal McLish, Cliff
Kachline, Bob Smith, Sal Artiaga, Bob Lurie, David Osinsky, Milt
Bolling, Dan Wilson, Mike Moore, Stan Brand, the late Mickey
Owen, Marty Marion, William Marshall, and Senator Mike Dewine.
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On 15 April 1997, at Shea Stadium in New York, Major League Baseball
honored the great Jackie Robinson by celebrating the fiftieth anniversary
of his historic entry into the big leagues. At that time, I said, The day
Jackie Robinson stepped on a major league field will forever be remembered
as baseball's proudest moment.
Jackie's achievement, so ably assisted by Branch Rickey, was a seminal
event not only for baseball but also for the entire country. For the first
time, baseball, long hailed as our national pastime, truly became the
game that represented all of America....
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A confession: for almost two decades I hated baseball (well, not exactly
hated, more like couldn’t care less). The game—in the Bigs, at least—was
virtually unrecognizable to me, what with the “errors” that are astronomical
salaries, cookie-cutter stadiums, and free agency. Take, for example,
the designated hitter rule: it is, frankly, a sin, venial at a minimum. If
you’re a ballplayer, friends, then pick up the lumber and go to work with
the rest of the fellows in sanitaries. And while you’re at it, take George
Steinbrenner, the Daddy Warbucks of the sport. How the devil are my
Cleveland Indians going to compete against a swashbuckler who’s got...
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“Do you think you can run me out of my job?” schoolteacher Branch
Rickey bellowed at a scowling student, squeezing hard on the defi ant
youngster’s shoulder blades. “Well, you just can’t do it. I need the money,
I need the job, so sit down!” It was early in the fall of 1899, and the notoriously
tough students in Turkey Creek in Scioto County were living
up to their reputation as incorrigible and uneducable. The post offi ce
address of Turkey Creek might be Friendship, Ohio, but the name was
quite ironic. The sons of Turkey Creek’s loggers, farmers, and moonshiners
had spat upon, physically attacked, and run...
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On March 2, 2005, President George W. Bush greeted Rachel Robinson in the Capitol
rotunda in Washington, D.C., and gently placed into her hand the Congressional Gold
Medal in the name of her deceased husband, Jack Roosevelt Robinson.
The ceremony of awarding the gold medal—the highest civilian honor that can be
presented by Congress—took place nearly fi fty-eight years after Robinson played his
fi rst Major League baseball game for the Brooklyn Dodgers. On that day in April 1947,
Robinson’s presence in the lineup represented a giant step for integration. Merely by
setting foot on the fi eld of play, Robinson broke the sport’s color barrier and...
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The most gratifying aspect of finishing a book is the opportunity for the author—or
authors in our case—to express thanks to those individuals and institutions that assisted
in the endeavor. If writing a book can be compared to indentured servitude, then all
authors are perpetual debtors. Our bills are long overdue and our list of collectors long.
Both authors are grateful to the management, administrators, and staff of the James V.
Brown Library, Lycoming County Historical Society, Grit Publishing Company, and
the Williamsport Sun-Gazette for allowing us unfettered access to their valuable archival
and photograph collections, and providing efficient reference assistance. Without their
collective generosity and expertise this...
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