John J. McGraw

John McGraw Monument, Truxton, NY

Traveling on New York State Route 13 in Truxton, the road makes a long, sweeping bend of nearly ninety degrees. At the apex of that bend there is a white stone monument with a baseball atop, easily missed to those not paying attention. The monument honors baseball great John McGraw, a player and manager elected to the Hall of Fame, who was born in the village in 1873.

McGraw played in the major leagues between 1891 and 1906, and went on to coach the New York Giants, first as a player-manager, from 1902 to 1932. His career was legendary; he was considered one of the best hitters of the dead ball era. Among a younger generation of baseball fans, I think that McGraw is largely forgotten. He did not hit a lot of homeruns, there are very few, if any, films of him playing. McGraw has been reduced to a baseball immortal that you read about.

The monument is a symbol of the importance of baseball in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries in the United States. It reflects the influence the game had on binding small communities across the country to a game, stories and narratives. It helped to create a sense of narratives, the statistics used to describe the game were easily transcribed into newspapers. Because many people played the game, as it was easily accessible, many could translate those newspaper articles into an imaginary highlight reel. The game also allowed for a narrative in which a small-town boy, in this case from Truxton, New York, could make good and succeed; his deeds and character would be rewarded.

McGraw Grandstand from the infield

On 8 August 1938, a game was played between the Giants and the local team from Truxton to raise money for the monument. The game was presumably played at the field now named in McGraw’s honor. I stopped by the field to find grass mowed, but the infield overtaken by weeds and grass. It obviously had not been used as a baseball field in quite some time, despite bases still be affixed in the ground. The small grandstand, which bears the native son’s name, is in good repair but not used. Indeed, Truxton itself, show signs of decline. It reflects the place of baseball in our society.  

The Cubs: A coda

Early April found me back in Chicago. I have embraced the World Series win, but have found it difficult to do my “baseball homework” for the upcoming season. Andrew assures me that the Cubs have gotten even better. I was discussing with Jeff, who grew up in North Carolina, how we became fans of out-of-town sports team. Cable television in the 1980s offered a different world, one that was more local and regional. On his package were WOR-TV and Madison Square Gardens Network, which carried New York Rangers games. I told him about having WGN-TV when I was in high school and being able to see Jack Brickhouse and Harry Caray every day after school. It was a good discussion of East Coast (New York) versus Midwest (Chicago) loyalties.

I made the pilgrimage to Wrigleyville. With all the signage, including the iconic red sign at the entrance to Wrigley Field, pronouncing the Cubs as World Series Champions, I sought a different visual affirmation. My first stop after getting off the L was 3633 North Sheffield, home of a simply blue sign with white letters. There is no explanation, simply EAMUS CATULI on the left side of the building; and AC followed by a series of numbers on the right. For more than two decades, obvious to television cameras along the right field wall, it has kept a running track of the futility of the Cubs in the playoffs. Latin for Let’s Go Cubs and then Anno Catuli (Year of the Cubs) followed by the number of years since a division win, a league pennant win, and a World Series win. The number had grown to great proportion AC 00 71 108. I left the Addison stop walking toward Wrigley and made the right turn down Sheffield, just beyond the recently reconstructed and enlarged right field bleacher, where Andre Dawson and Sammy Sosa, played was the building in question. I looked for the familiar sign and regarded the new numbers. There was a sense of closure and satisfaction as I absorbed the words: Eamus Catuli 00 00 00. Indeed, the Cubs had won the World Series, and the Sisyphean task of a new baseball season was about to begin. 

Dying pastime of baseball

Baseball as a pastime is dying; however, the business of baseball is, of course, thriving. When I was a kid growing up in Louisville, there were many and afternoon that several of us would gather the field of Jacob Elementary School. Situated between two giant sycamore trees, which served as a makeshift dugout, home plate faced the back of the school. A monumental blast would hit the school; however, we did not consider this a home run. On rare occasions, when somebody pulled the ball slightly to the left, one could hit a window on the second or third floor and still be a fair ball.  That would be considered a home run. The problem would be that we would lose a valuable ball with which to play the game. In the aftermath of such an event there would always be recriminations; usually, a warning filtered through the neighborhood that the school longer wanted us to play baseball in the schoolyard. Yet, within a week or two, we always wandered back and the games continued. It was on this field, more than any other, that what skills I did have as a baseball player, were developed (this and the backyard games of catch with my father). Sure I played little league baseball; however, the once a week practice and once a week game only provided instruction. It took these pick-up games to further my skills.

It is my observation the kids today don't often play pickup games of baseball. All games (and practices) are organized events. Spontaneous pick-up games are a thing of the past. The places were kids could have a game, consequently, are beginning to disappear as well. I have watched over the past few years as Schan Field in Shippensburg has been gradually dismantled. Slowly, but surely, different components of the field have disappeared: the scoreboard and the benches have vanished; the base paths have grown weeds. I had a warm spot in my heart for this field because, although it was mediocre ball diamond, it reminded me of one of the places I played little league baseball as a kid. That field was on Wathen Lane, which is what we called the ball field. Like the field in Louisville, Schan field has brick warehouses as its backdrop; however, Wathen did not have an outfield fence. In Shippensburg, the warehouses appear to be underutilized, in Louisville they are filled with aging whiskey, which produced a strong, sweet aroma on hot summer evenings. The infield was more cinder than grass. Playing third base one game, a hard routine grounder was hit directly at me. The ball took an odd hop on the uneven field and caught me right in the throat. It is the most memorable injury that I received on the baseball field as I recall. (Unless you count the time I broke my thumb catching a softball barehanded at an end-of-the-year picnic in seventh grade.)

Don’t get me wrong, baseball is still a thriving enterprise – it makes more money today, than at any point in its history. Yet, the game seems to be more about money than as a hobby or pastime. Of course, I do not begrudge people from making money, but if something is a national treasure, an indicator of what it means to be American, then baseball has to be more. It must be protected from the impulses that rob it of its soul. 

The Ghost of the Cubs

Marker noting the location of West Side
Grounds (1893-1915)

Early October 2016 found me in the Chicago area. With my commitments finished at a conference, I put on my 1914 Cubs logo t-shirt and went in search of the location of West Side Grounds, the last (and, thus far, only) stadium to host a World Series championship for the Cubs. In the process I toured the city from the perspective of a Cubs fan and relived many of my own nostalgic memories.

Only a small sign indicates where a stadium once stood over a century ago. I sat down for a few minutes in the beautiful courtyard of the UIC medical campus. It was a peaceful place; there were very few people around that late-morning Saturday. It was a perfect blue sky, untouched by clouds, and there was a cool breeze with the temperature in the upper fifties. I imagined a time, almost 108 years to the day, when the Cubs last won the World Series. The 1908 Series between the Cubs and the Detroit Tigers featured five future hall of famers. With an absence of motion pictures, and a Cubs team that is favored to make it deep into the 2016 playoffs, it is tempting to think about what that championship would have looked like. I spent some time trying to recreate in my mind and imagining those October days at West Side Grounds. While sitting there, I jotted a few notes and had a quiet reflection. Three people walked by during the twenty minutes or so that I was there. Each moved from one building to another, and smiled an acknowledgment. Did they know the real reason for my visit, or were they simply engaging in what they thought was a professional courtesy?

Where center field once was...

The Cubs won the series four games to one, splitting the two games played at West Side Grounds on October 11 and 12. During the October 11 game (game 2 of the series), the Cubs broke a scoreless tie on the bottom of the eighth when Joe Tinker hit a two-run homer. The Cubs would go one to score four more runs in the inning and won the game in an hour and a half. The next day, Detroit beat the Cubs by a score 8-3. During the game, future Detroit hall of famer, Ty Cobb hit three singles and a double. He had two stolen bases, and was thrown out trying to steal home in the ninth inning.

I sat on a bench, which I estimated to be somewhere in left-center field based on where the sign indicating the centerfield entrance was located. If my guess was correct, it would have been near where Jimmy Sheckard would have played. Across the field, at first base, player/manager and future Hall of Famer, Frank Chance would play for several seasons. He would go on to coach and play for the Chicago Whales of the Federal League, the first occupants of Weeghman Field, later known as Wrigley Field. But Chance is more famous for anchoring the double play combination with Evers and Tinker. The combination of Tinkers, Ever and Chance was the bedevilment of early twentieth century National League teams. Famously, in 1910 as the Cubs approached yet another World Series appearance, New York columnist Franklin Pierce Adams penned the poem, “Baseball’s Sad Lexicon.” The poem would be published in the New York Evening Mail, 12 July 1910.

“Three Finger” Mordecai Brown did not appear at West Side Grounds during the 1908 World Series. Brown, who had been injured in a farm accident as an adolescent, was the star pitcher of the team. He would go on to play for the Chicago Whales, with Frank Chance during the 1915 season at Weeghman Field.  

We often forget how much baseball has shaped our language. “Hitting a home run,” or to do really well, is not an idiom known outside of North America. It is also used as a euphemism for sexual intercourse as well. The idiom, “out in left field,” a term which means “crazy” or completely unexpected and one that was often used by my father, originated at West Side Grounds. By today’s standards, the West Side was oddly shaped with an exaggerated outfield wall. Beyond the left field wall, a home for the mentally ill patients once stood. One account noted that the patients would often yell at the fans causing much consternation.

Ron Santo outside Wrigley

I am increasingly ambivalent about my feelings toward major league baseball. Much of the joy of the game has given way to marketing and hype. The changes in the Cubs, the organization and even beloved Wrigley have contributed to my ambivalence. Some of these changes are and were unavoidable. The death of Ron Santo, famous third baseman and later beloved radio announcer, was difficult. His life-long battle with diabetes was an inspiration to many and hits close to my family. It is difficult to replace him for loyal listeners like myself. His enthusiasm, optimism and exasperation are sorely missed. As the Cubs continue to do well, I think how he would have been in the booth and on the field with the guys. There is my own sense of nostalgia as well. When I see a game these days I note that Kris Bryant is wearing Mark Grace’s number; Jon Lester is wearing Kerry Wood’s. As the Cubs creep inevitably closer to ending the long drought of World Series Championships, after all “anyone can have a bad century,” I remember many of the players I wish had had an opportunity to play for the team in the World Series.

Harry outside the bleacher entrance at
Sheffield and Waveland

I think back to the death of Harry Caray and his closing words on his final broadcast on WGN: “Next year maybe will be the year we all have been waiting for forever.” Caray was a primary reason for becoming a Cubs fan. I would often tune into Cubs broadcast in the afternoon after coming home from school, just to hear what he had to say. Harry was famous for leading the Wrigley Field faithful in his rendition of “Take Me Out to the Ballpark,” seemingly inevitably, followed up with him shouting: “Let’s get some runs!” Even today, every once in a while, I find a clip of Harry singing just to give myself a lift. One of the most memorable renditions did not occur at Wrigley, but across town when Harry was announcing for the White Sox in 1979. He tried to calm a rowdy crowd who had stormed the field in the aftermath of the Disco Demolition Night promotion. In vain, Harry sang while the crowd started fires and began to tear the stadium apart. Watching replays of the event, Harry’s effort never fails to make me laugh, albeit with a little embarrassment for him.

After all these years, it is still a thrill to see Wrigley from the Addison L station, even as the area becomes increasingly gentrified. One of the great things about Wrigley was that it was in the midst of a neighborhood. I remember watching Cubs games in high school and college wishing I could stand out on Waveland Avenue to shag home run balls as they left the park. Yes, I too would have thrown balls from opposing players back. Many of the buildings on Addison, across the street from the stadium, have been demolished to make way for luxury apartments. The changes seem too much. I wanted the Cubs to win the World Series based on the city that prided itself on hard work. Increasingly baseball seems more willing to sell anything to make a buck. History and identity is lost. Yet, my love of the game’s history and the social impact of the game remains. While there is a temptation to look away, I just can’t.

Two weeks to the day after my visit to West Side Grounds (and Wrigley), the Cubs met the Los Angeles Dodgers in the decisive game 6 of the National League Championship Series. The game was never in doubt, but watching there was a worry that the Cubs could implode at any minute. They did not. As the game moved to the ninth inning, it became increasingly clear that North Siders would appear in the first World Series in seventy-one years.

As the game ended, I received texts and phone calls from friends. I pictured myself with a rueful smile on my face as I watched the celebration, thankful that no one was pointlessly talking over the traditional playing of Steve Goodwin’s, “Go, Cubs, Go.” I held my composure, thinking about Goodwin who died in 1984, sitting alone surveying the stadium and its fans. Then, Joe Buck noted that there were probably a lot of Cubs fans who were thinking about their parents, grandparents, and loved ones who were no longer here to witness this. I broke down and cried.

For me there is a great irony to this season: 2016 was the first summer in thirty years that I did not attend a major league game. As I was contemplating this, what little superstition I do have surfaced: If that was all it took for the Cubs to make it to the World Series…  

Baseball 2015

It is the start of the baseball season – and hope springs eternal. There are many questions that loom for the baseball fan and traveler this year:

·         Since it is the year of the goat, will the Cubs finally break the seventy-year drought and return to the World Series? Even more intriguing is that some pundits believe that the Cubs will win the World Series in the first time in 107 years. There are signs, but it remains difficult to fathom.

·         Will this be the penultimate year professional baseball will be played at Municipal Stadium in Hagerstown, Maryland? Although there have been promising signs before, there appears to be some movement to retain the team for the future.

·         Will we soon be able to see baseball in Cuba? The prospect that the United States and Cuba will restore diplomatic relations has generated several stories when professional baseball was last played in Cuba. 

·         Wither the Pawtucket Red Sox? 

·         Will professional baseball return to Montreal?

Another season to explore, travel, have fun, and learned. 

A Texas Lunch in Lock Haven

Even though I had multiple ringed coffee-stains on my khaki shorts from a leaky cup I rested on my leg while driving, the employees and management of the Texas Lunch Restaurant in Lock Haven, Pennsylvania welcomed me to their fine establishment. After much consideration I chose the Texas Lunch after hearing an interview with Shawn Micallef about his new book about how we dismiss some eating options because of class concerns. This establishment, I decided, is where you have breakfast, not brunch. Open since 1918, the restaurant bills itself as the “home of the Growler,” which appears to be a hot dog of sorts. Large hot dogs and hamburgers seem to be a theme of “Texas lunch” establishments that dot Pennsylvania.

As you walk into the Texas Lunch, there are ten small booths that line the right hand wall. To the left is an open kitchen with a grill top and a deep fryer. Stainless steel is the predominant material throughout the restaurant. Beyond the cooking area, there is a double-U shaped counter with traditional diner stools, which is where I had my lunch. Prominently adorning the walls in the back of the restaurant are four replica New York Yankee uniforms (Ruth #3, Gehrig #4, DiMaggio #5, and Mantle #7). Across the way is a large shadow box with several autographed baseballs. There are a few items from Lock Haven University as well.

As I was having my grilled ham and cheese sandwich, two fellows wearing sleeveless shirts sat a few seats away at the counter. They each had two chili dogs and shared a plate of fries. Meanwhile, in a booth behind me, two late-middle age men talked about the experience of serving in the military while finishing the remainders of their soft drinks. This restaurant, located in the heart of downtown Lock Haven, is a place where all kinds of people gather for food and conversation, apparently for nearly 100 years.

Baseball: July 2014

Bowman Field in Williamsport, PA

This month I attended a game in my 48th minor league stadium, Susquehanna Bank Park at Historical Bowman Field in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. The stadium was built in 1926 and is currently the home of the Williamsport Crosscutters. Originally the field was named Memorial Field but was renamed in 1929 to honor J. Warren Bowman.

The outfield wall of Forbes Field

Bowman Field hosted its first game on 27 April 1926, which was the first of a two game series between the Williamsport Grays and the Harrisburg Giants of the Negro National League. The Grays played as a member of the New York-Pennsylvania League in 1926, but opened against the Giants as a warm-up exhibition. The Giants, a much more experienced team, won both games easily.

Homeplate from the final game at Forbes Field, 28 June 1970

On my way to see two games at PNC Park in Pittsburgh, I stopped by to recce the remains of old Forbes Field. The former home of the Pittsburgh Pirates, from 1909 to 1971, was the site of some historic players and games, including Roberto Clements and Honus Wagner. The stadium saw Bill Mazeroski’s World Series winning homerun as well as the final three homeruns of the Babe Ruth’s career. Today, all that remains of the great stadium are the outfield wall and home plate, which is situated inside Posvar Hall (University of Pittsburgh).

PNC Park (July 2014)

Statue of Satchel Paige at PNC Park 

PNC Statues

As George Harrison wrote, “It’s been a long, cold, lonely winter.” But late March means that our attention turns to warmer weather and baseball. Staying close to PNC meant that morning walks could be in and around the park and riverfront area. Although it is one of the newer major league venues (opened in 2001), the baseball history of Pittsburgh is woven into the surround area. The four statues that line the outside of the stadium represent the great legacy of the team.

Roberto Clemente

Honus Wagner

On the corner of General Robinson and Bill Mazeroski Way, stands the statue of Honus Wagner onetime member of the Louisville Colonels (1897-1899) and later, when the team moved, the Pittsburgh Pirates (1900-1917).  The “Flying Dutchman” had a career batting average of .327 and was selected as a member of the first class of the Baseball Hall of Fame. The statue was originally erected in Schenley Park, but moved to Three Rivers Stadium in 1972 when that stadium was opened. In turn, it was moved to its current location when PNC was opened.

On the opposite end of the park, down the left field line at the foot of the bridge that now bears his name, stands the statue of Roberto Clemente.  Clemente hit his 3,000, and final, hit on the last day of the season in 1972. During a relief mission to Nicaragua, in the aftermath of an earthquake, Clemente died in an airplane crash on 31 December 1972. Among his posthumous honors was election to the Hall of Fame. The former Sixth Street Bridge, built in 1927-28, was renamed the Roberto Clemente Bridge.