Once again we return to that strange, bizzaro land known as the 19th century. The time periods will probably continue to get shorter because as we move forward in time, more and more strange news is documented. To keep this post from reaching Moby Dick-ian proportions, I need to cut down on the years covered.

1845-1875 is here, and 1876-1884 can be found here.

Onwards!

January 15, 1885:

“At a Union Association meeting held in Milwaukee, only 2 clubs show up, Milwaukee and Kansas City. It is decided to disband the league.”

Hey, it’s like my most recent birthday party!

February 22, 1885:

“Boston P Charlie Buffington invents a baseball ‘roller skate’ that gives pitchers greater impetus and swing in their delivery while still allowing them to keep both feet on the ground.”

That’s a PED. Ban 'em all.

May 2, 1885:

“2B Joe Gerhardt goes 1-for-3 in the Giants-Reds game. He will set the record for lowest BA ever for a 2B with over 350 at bats by hitting .155.”

Gerhardt must have been some kind of amazingly gritty clubhouse presence because he got to play three more years while batting .208/.264/.264. That makes David Eckstein look like the '97 version of Mark McGwire.

June 17, 1885:

“Brooklyn (AA) P 'Phenomenal’ Smith loses his debut to St. Louis by a score of 18-5. All 18 runs against the brash lefthander are unearned, due to 14 Brooklyn 'errors.’ When he first joined the team, Smith, who gave himself the nickname, said he was so good that he didn’t need his teammates to win. The intentional misplays of his teammates cause club president Lynch to fine the guilty players $500 each, but he reluctantly agrees to release Smith to ensure team harmony.”

He is also credited with discovering Christy Mathewson which is phenomenal in and of itself.

September 11, 1885:

“Providence suspends ace P Hoss Radbourn and 3B Jerry Denny; Radbourn, the NL’s highest-paid player ($6,000), is suspended due to NY beating him 9-1.”

You know, it might be things like suspending your ace pitcher for losing which lead to Providence not having a Major League club.

December 4, 1885:

“The NL Metropolitans franchise is sold to millionaire Erastus Wiman. The Metropolitan Exhibition Company receives $25,000 for the transaction.”

Is there any other name that just screams old money quite like Erastus Wiman?

April 17, 1886:

“Capitol Park is opened in Washington with an exhibition game. The team will be called the Senators or Statesmen. The new park will carry the nickname 'Swampdoodle Grounds.’

Among all the stadiums in the history of the world, the one I want to attend the least is the Swampdoodle Grounds.

May 29, 1886:

"The Athletics try to slow the Browns down by loading the base paths with sand. St. Louis captain Comiskey refuses to play and helps the grounds crew remove the sand. The Browns win the two games with a total of 14 stolen bases.”

If only the Dodgers did this on their Bleacher Beach days.

July 22, 1886:

“The news leaks out that Chicago owner Spalding has hired detectives to shadow the White Stocking players and report on their drinking habits.”

George Steinbrenner had good company.

August 22, 1886:

“Just as he reaches the ball on a long hit by Chicken Wolf, Reds CF Abner Powell’s pants are grabbed by a stray dog. Wolf circles the bases with the HR that wins the game for Louisville 5-3 in 11 innings.

I had to read this twice just to make sure I hadn’t hallucinated it. To recap: a player named Chicken Wolf hit a home run after a stray dog wouldn’t let Abner Powell complete the throw. You read that too, right?

September 23, 1886:

"Pittsburgh’s Pud Galvin walks the first 3 batters and then picks them all off.”

Here’s an idea–find a pitcher who just doesn’t have the stuff to succeed in the Majors and have him focus only training on his pick off move. Then just intentionally walk everyone and pick them off.

April 19, 1887:

“Chicago mascot Willie Hahn, aged 11, is signed to a regular league contract. 'You should have seen the little fellow open his eyes,’ when a club official read him the abstinence clause.”

Joke’s already been written for me.

June 13, 1887:

“Sportswriter O.P. Caylor takes over as manager of the Mets. Caylor had managed Cincinnati in 1885 and 1886 while writing for the Cincinnati Enquirer, now he is with the New York Tribune and managing again.”

I wonder how Omar Minaya would have treated this…I’m guessing not well.

June 16, 1887:

“Before a riotous Baltimore club, Curt Welch of the Browns topples Orioles 2B Bill Greenwood to prevent a DP and is promptly arrested for assault by a policeman on duty at the park. He will be fined $4.50 by a local judge.”

And you thought the NFL’s helmet to helmet hit penalties were severe.

June 21, 1887:

“Tom 'Toad’ Ramsey of Louisville strikes out 17 Cleveland Babies, a singular achievement under this year’s 4-strike rule. The Colonels win in a rout 21-1.”

Two points: 1) From now on, I will be calling the Cleveland Indians the Cleveland Babies. At least until they start winning. 2) Toad Ramsey is credited with creating the knuckleball after severing his finger with a trowel. He is now my hero and I will begin celebrating Toad Ramsey Day every August 8th, the date of his birth, to honor the man who created baseball’s weirdest pitch.

(Photo via Wikipedia)

June 23, 1887:

“Tip O'Neill goes just 1-4 (the 'hit’ a 'phantom,’ as sportswriters are calling base balls)…”

Again I will be aping the 19th century as all walks will now be referred to as phantoms. The 19th century really knew how to spice up their sportswriting.

July 6, 1887:

“Alex McKinnon leaves the Alleghenies suffering from symptoms of Typhoid fever. He has been having his best season, batting .36 (.340 not counting walks), but will die of the disease within 2 weeks.”

If I ever complain about modern medicine, just remind me of this story.

July 22, 1887:

“Master Chapman, age 14, pitches for Philadelphia against Cleveland in a 9-0 forfeited game. This is his only ML appearance.”

With a name like that, he was probably much better off being an oil or railroad magnate than a baseball player anyways.

August 12, 1887:

“At the Mets’ grounds on Staten Island, Athletic batter Gus Weyhing hits an apparent triple that Indian RF Bob Hogan kicks into the stage of the play 'The Fall of Babylon.’ Since the ground rules at the park call for a double on hits into the theatrical set, the umpire orders Weyhing back to 2B. After a futile argument, the Athletics leave the field and forfeit the game.”

The only thing missing between this and a 1960s madcap comedy is that the ball didn’t hit a tuba player on the head, trip a famous actress and finally come to a stop on a treasure map.

August 17, 1887:

“Managing from the press table costs Ollie Caylor and the Mets a game. With a Baltimore runner on 3B in the bottom of the 10th inning, manager Caylor ells last-second instructions to C Bill Holbert. Just as Holbert turns around to look at the press stand, P Al Mays begins his deliery. When Mays sees Holdbert turned away, however, he stops, committing a balk that sends the winning run across the plate for the Orioles.”

Sometimes when I make a mistake, I’ll remind myself that in the big scheme of things it was no big deal and no one will remember it a week later. Thanks to this book, we can remember Al Mays’ error 123 years later.

October 27, 1887:

“The Brotherhood of Professional Base Ball Players holds a meeting and club representatives pledge not to sign standard contracts until negotiations are held concerning the wording of those documents.”

How much cooler would the MLBPA be if they stilled called themselves The Brotherhood? Also, they should all wear cloaks and hold their meetings in the dead of night and chant in Latin.

November 14, 1887:

“Cleveland announces a new uniform design featuring dark blue stripes and piping. The new suit will inspire the nickname 'Spider’ because of the web-like pattern.”

Here is a photo of that 1888 Cleveland team, still known as the Blues:

(Via)

February 2, 1888:

“Indianapolis announces that the roof of its new grandstand will hold 42 private boxes, to be sold to its season subscribers only.”

Sigh. And here we have the birth of the private box.

June 14, 1888:

“Reds pitching star Tony Mullane suffers a broken nose when hit by a line drive in Kansas City. The injury will keep him out of action for 10 days, but his famous good looks will not be permanently damaged.”

May I present to you, kind ladies and gentleman, handsome Tony Mullane, the Bert Reynolds of his day:

(Via B-Ref)

July 25, 1888:

“Toad Ramsey misses the Colonels’ getaway train in order to avoid a warrant for his arrest at the railroad station. He is arrested later on the complaint of Louisville saloon owners who charge that Ramsey is overdue paying considerable bar tabs.”

More from legendary Toad Ramsey. How much money do you want to bet that he missed the train because he was drunk?

August 2, 1888:

“Claiming illness, Brooklyn captain Dave Orr misses the practice session. But later in the day he is spotted Coney Island, and owner Charles Byrne removes him as captain.”

We’re not talking about a game, we’re talking about practice. What are we talking about? Practice!

October 1, 1888:

“When Indianapolis scores 3 runs in the top of the 8th inning to take a 4-2 lead at Washington, Senator C Connie Mack suddenly complains of a sore finger. The ensuing delay lasts until darkness and forces the game’s end, the score reverting to a 7-inning 2-1 Senator victory.”

No word on whether Connie Mack got his teeth knocked in after the game.

March 22, 1889:

“The All America team beats Chicago 7-6 in Englands’ Old Trafford Cricket Stadium. The Manchester Guardian said the 'general verdict of the more than 1,000 spectators was that the American game was 'slow’ and 'wanting in variety.’”

Yes, because cricket is known for his breakneck pace. I always knew there was something cagey about those Brits.

April 29, 1889:

“The New York Giants play and win their first game 4-2 at St. George Grounds on Staten Island. This picturesque park, home of the AA Mets in 1886 and 1887, houses the Giants and a production of the play Nero. The RF is obliged to play out on top of the stage platform, necessitating the use of rubber-soled shoes in wet weather.”

Unfortunately I couldn’t find any photographic proof of this, so I remain unfulfilled. But to get a sense of the park, here’s an advert:





(Via Wikipedia)

June 22, 1889:

“Only 6 Louisville players show up for the game in Baltimore, the others out in protest against owner Davidson, who owes back pay and is now threatening them with fines. Using 3 local recruits, the Colonels lose their 20th in a row 4-2.”

The Colonels would go on to lose 26 in a row and Mordecai Davidson would have to step down as the owner. As bad as things have been in Pittsburgh and Kansas City, they have never been this bad.

July 25, 1889:

A fatigued Horace Phillips is given a vacation from managing the Pittsburgh club, captain Fred Dunlap taking over. On August 1, Phillips would suffer a mental breakdown and eventually be placed in an asylum.“

As depressing as the information already is, get ready for some Shutter Island-type terror. Wikipedia provides the information that Phillips, after moving to a private institution in New Jersey, was divorced by his wife in 1894. There is no further information about him, including when he died.

September 10, 1889:

"New York Giants pitcher Mickey Welch strikes out as the first pinch hitter in ML history.”

John Vander Wal owes his career to Mickey Welch.

September 13, 1889:

“Hoss Radbourn pitches a complete game double-header for Boston, but fails to win either game. After losing the opener to the Spiders 3-0, he has to hit a HR himself in the 9th inning of the nightcap to salvage a tie.”

And you were wondering if he was really as tough as his Twitter account makes him out.

To sum up: Baseball players had to compete with theater productions, owners who couldn’t pay them, and baseball witnessed its first knuckleball and pinch hitter. Next week we’ll get to see if the 1890s can possibly compete.