Chapter FIVE

1916 Philadelphia Athletics

Won 36

Lost 117

Prelude to Disaster

When Ban Johnson announced plans to assemble a second major league at the turn of the twentieth century, the Shibe family, producers of sporting goods, teamed with former Pirates’ catcher Connie Mack and a handful of sportswriters to create the Philadelphia Athletics. The club’s logo was conceived after rival manager John McGraw commented derisively that a team in Philly would be a “white elephant” (meaning an unprofitable venture). Those words rang false as Mack guided the young franchise to a pair of pennants in his first five years as owner/manager.

Following a disappointing World Series loss to New York in 1905, the savvy Mack rebuilt his roster around veteran slugger Harry Davis and southpaw Eddie Plank, who went on to accumulate 284 victories in an A’s uniform. By 1910, the lineup was among the most formidable of the Deadball Era, housing four eventual Hall of Famers. With Eddie Plank, Chief Bender, and Jack Coombs anchoring the pitching corps, the A’s breezed to World Series wins in 1910, 1911, and 1913. They were well on their way to a fourth world championship when something highly improbable occurred.

Perennial losers, the Boston Braves got off to a typical last-place start in 1914. Owing much to an innovative platoon system employed by manager George Stallings, they won 25 of 30 games from mid-July to late August. By season’s end, they had left their closest rivals more than 10 games behind. Entering the World Series as heavy underdogs, the over-achieving Bostonians maintained an air of confidence. Outspoken second baseman Johnny Evers boldly proclaimed that the Athletics were “destined to receive the one biggest surprise of their lives.” Few could have predicted the accuracy of that statement.

Boston’s Punch and Judy hitters (who had fashioned an uninspiring .251 collective average during the regular season) battered Bender for a 7–1 victory in the opener. The rest of the affair was hotly contested, including an epic Game 2 pitching duel and a 12-inning nail-biter in the third contest at Boston. When the dust settled, Stallings’s crew had accomplished one of the most astonishing sweeps in World Series history, securing their historic distinction as “The Miracle Braves.” For Connie Mack, the humiliating loss marked the end of an era.

White Elephants for Sale

Believing that his players had “quit” on him, Mack began to dismantle the squad that had been methodically vanquishing American League (AL) opponents for five straight seasons. He started with the pitchers, allowing Eddie Plank and Chief Bender to jump to the new Federal League, where ambitious owners were offering big money to veterans in the interest of draining the other circuits of talent. Right-hander Jack Coombs, who had won 80 games from 1910 through 1912, was the next to depart, joining the Brooklyn Robins. Asked why he had released players of that caliber, Mack remarked brashly that, “I am through with them, and that’s all there is to it. I don’t mind saying that there are more surprises for the fans. I know that I may be criticized, but I am going to shake up the team.”

Standing by those words, Mack targeted his coveted “$100,000 Infield,” a gifted unit featuring third baseman Frank “Home Run” Baker and keystone sacker Eddie Collins. Baker was chased into voluntary retirement following a bitter salary dispute. Collins, a lifetime .333 hitter, was sold to the White Sox. Creating another gaping hole in the lineup, sure-handed shortstop Jack Barry was shipped to Boston, where he would make his fifth and final postseason appearance. Other catastrophic transactions would follow. Right fielder Eddie Murphy, a veteran of two Fall Classics, signed a lucrative contract in Chicago. Pitchers Bob Shawkey and Herb Pennock, who had yet to prove themselves, joined the parade out of Philadelphia. Both went on to attain marquee status with the Yankees.

The effects of Mack’s fire sale were immediate, as the A’s languished in the basement through the entire 1915 campaign. Fans stayed away in droves, openly complaining that the team was charging big-league prices for second-rate baseball. With an average of less than 2,000 patrons per game, the once-proud franchise now boasted the lowest attendance in both leagues.

The Worst of Times

Entering the 1916 campaign, the prognosis was grim for the Athletics. Having notched 109 losses the previous year, opinions varied widely as to just how bad the team would be. W. A. Phelon, writing for Baseball Magazine, was slightly optimistic, referring to Mack’s gang as a “pleasing mystery well worth Philadelphia patronage.” He went on to estimate that the club would improve “not under 20 percent and, if the young catchers and pitchers hold out, at least 30 percent.” Jack Coombs, despite having been unceremoniously released a season earlier, spoke highly of his former manager. “Give Connie a season or more of experimenting, and he’ll have the greatest machine in the country. Mack knows what he’s about. I was with him too long not to realize that,” he told reporters.

Of course there were those who begged to differ. Philadelphia beat writer Chandler D. Richter remarked glumly, “Baseball players, managers, scribes, and fans are of the opinion that Mack has overestimated his own ability and will never be able to fight his way back to the top of the heap. For the 1916 season, one cannot without a large stretch of the imagination see anything better than last place for the Athletics.” Mack, himself, was of a similar mindset. In a widely published article, he candidly admitted that, “There are six better ball teams than the Athletics in the American League. Therefore I cannot see any chance for our team to be in the running for the pennant.”

With expectations at an all-time low, Mack released one of the few remaining members of his old guard—Jack Lapp, a reliable platoon catcher who had led AL backstops with a .353 average in 1911. The move failed to hurt the club, as Lapp hit just .208 for the White Sox and retired the following year. The same could not be said of castoff Frank Baker, who accepted an alluring $37,000 offer to play for the Yankees after sitting out the entire 1915 slate. Wielding a bulky 52-ounce bat, the lefty slugger finished atop AL leader boards for many years and hit particularly well against the Athletics.

Spring training began on a sour note, with relentless rain causing the cancellation of many games. Most of the pitching staff developed sore arms in the damp conditions. Comprised largely of inexperienced collegians, the team was described by one source as “dispirited” at the end of camp. Setting the tone for a dismal regular-season run, bungling third baseman Charlie Pick committed a costly throwing error that resulted in a 2–1 opening day loss.

Philly’s ragtag crew started the season with 6 straight defeats. In the first 13 games, 31 errors were committed, and 53 opposing batters were either walked or hit by pitches. After a lopsided home loss to the Red Sox one afternoon, first baseman Stuffy McInnis spotted Babe Ruth lounging in the lobby of the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel. Ruth had pitched that day and held the A’s to just five hits—one by McInnis. When the congenial infielder complimented the Babe on his performance, Ruth (who evidently had no idea who McInnis was) added insult to injury. “Yeah kid, it was a pretty good game,” he said in a patronizing tone. “Glad you could get out to the ballpark to see it.”

Hobbling into the season’s first full month with a 3–10 record, the A’s began to show fleeting signs of life. On May 8, they pounded Walter Johnson for 4 runs on 13 hits, prompting Senators’ manager Clark Griffith to comment that the Mack Men were underrated and stood a chance at climbing into the first division. A week later, they got the best of Eddie Plank in a dramatic showdown at home. The former Philly ace had signed with St. Louis after the demise of the Federal League. Staked to a 4–1 lead in the seventh at his old stomping grounds, he began antagonizing every hitter who came to the plate. Ignoring the future Hall of Famer’s taunts, the A’s scratched out a run on 2 singles and a hit batsman. Giving the listless crowd something to cheer about, pinch hitter Wally Schang tied the game with a bases-clearing triple. Plank was furious, and, after strenuously arguing a call made by umpire Ollie Chill, he threw a wild pitch that allowed Schang to score what would hold up as the winning run. The 5–4 victory marked a two-game winning streak, the Athletics’ longest of the season.

But not every afternoon at the park was quite as inspiring. On May 9, pitchers Jack Nabors, Harry Weaver, and Carl Ray walked 18 Detroit hitters. George Cunningham and Bernie Boland of Detroit walked 6 apiece for a record total of 30 combined free passes. The Tigers sent 13 men to the plate in the second inning that day, scoring 8 runs in a sloppy 16–2 rout. Less than a week later, the punchless A’s left 17 runners on base in the first nine frames against the same opponents. They ended up stranding 3 more in extra innings, blowing the game, 7–6. Entering June with an 11–14 record, the worst was yet to come in Philadelphia.

Desperate Measures

The A’s played their worst stretch of baseball from July 21 through August 8. In that span, they dropped 20 straight games and were outscored by a margin of 121–37. With only eight teams in the league, the schedule could be quite grueling, and nearly half of those losses were dealt consecutively by the second-place White Sox at Comiskey Park. Near the end of the agonizing streak, a cartoon by satirist Ed Wheelan appeared in the New York American depicting a sickly white elephant beneath the ocean surface with its proboscis poking above the water line. A dinghy labeled “American League” and filled with smiling fans was shown drifting toward the lethargic pachyderm. “Hey, look out for that periscope,” cried one passenger. “Periscope, me eye,” a lookout man contradicted him, “that’s only Mack’s pet goin’ down for the nineteenth straight time!”

After staff ace “Bullet Joe” Bush defeated the Tigers on August 9, snapping the longest skid in franchise history, the following poem appeared in the New York Journal:

Stranger than tales of piratical bands cruising the Spanish Main

Stranger than stories of bad Western Lands where good men die young

or are slain

Stranger than word from explorers heard or soldiers of fortune and fame

Is this little story—say, Bo it’s a bird—The Macks have collected a game!

The Macks have collected a game!

Tell it in Woppinger Falls and Hoboken: The Macks have collected a game!

It isn’t the heat that is making me crazed: The Macks have collected a game!

Call me an ambulance, I’m feeling dazed.

Although the A’s had officially become a laughingstock, Connie Mack continued to wheel and deal in the hope of effecting some positive change. Particularly fond of college players, he brought a slew of them up June and July, dumping most of them in time for a fresh round of unsuccessful September call-ups. Leaving no stone unturned, he auditioned a seventeen-year-old infielder whose only prior major league experience had been peddling concessions at Sportsman’s Park in St. Louis. The kid’s name was Charlie Grimm, and, although he was sent packing after a brief trial, he went on to become a fan favorite in Chicago, compiling a handsome .290 batting average over twenty major league seasons. A long and successful managerial career followed. Mack was not always a reliable judge of young talent, despite his reputation to that end. In 1910, he traded a green “Shoeless Joe” Jackson to Cleveland for two players who proved to be highly inferior.

The tenacious Philly skipper tried out more than 200 prospects between 1915 and 1916. Simply put, no one was above the call of duty. During the dismal 1916 run, the “Tall Tactician” even used aging coach and scout Harry Davis as a pinch hitter. By that time, Davis was approaching his forty-third birthday and had not played a full major league season in six years. Looking nothing like the fearsome slugger who had led the AL in homers for four straight seasons, he drew a walk. Long past his prime but occasionally reliable, Davis came to the plate six times for Mack between 1915 and 1917, driving in 4 runs, while reaching base twice.

An interesting fact, the A’s actually won a game in the midst of their 20-game losing streak. Unfortunately, it didn’t count in the standings. Following a July 21 loss to Cleveland at home, the club was left with several open dates. Looking to boost morale and prime his inexperienced recruits for big-league action, Mack scheduled an in-season exhibition game against the nonaffiliated Newark Indians. The match took place at Newark, Ohio, and ended in a convincing 12–0 Philadelphia win. Believing the practice to be useful, Mack arranged another exhibition against the Wheeling Stogies of the Central League in September. He should have quit while he was ahead, as the A’s were dealt an embarrassing 4–3 loss in extra innings.

Limping to the Finish Line

Approaching the season’s homestretch, highlights were few and far between. “Bullet Joe” Bush’s no-hitter on August 26 grabbed a few headlines, as did Wally Schang’s offensive display on September 8. A switch hitter, Schang homered from both sides of the plate in the same game—a feat that would not be duplicated for many years. Neither of these extraordinary events sent fans racing through the turnstiles at Philadelphia’s Shibe Park. In fact, during one game of a September series against the Yankees, there were only fifty people in the stands. Still, the A’s managed to outdraw the Senators, who suffered the worst attendance in both leagues despite finishing just one game below .500.

By the time the last pitch of the 1916 campaign had been thrown, the A’s had left behind a legacy of dubious achievements. Not only did they finish 54 1/2 games out of first place, but they ended up 40 games behind the nearest AL opponent. According to Spalding’s Official Baseball Guide, 1917, “erratic fielding by his youngsters was one of Manager Mack’s chief handicaps.” This was certainly true, as more than 300 errors led to a total of 191 unearned runs. But it wasn’t the only problem. The bases were far too busy to begin with, as A’s hurlers averaged more hits and walks per inning than any AL staff. Confounding the situation, the offense failed to generate much run support, stranding legions of base runners while compiling the lowest batting average in the loop. Philly batsmen also ranked last in hits, doubles, and on-base percentage.

Fans across town had far more to cheer for, as the Phillies fell just short of capturing their second consecutive National League (NL) pennant. Behind the masterful pitching of Pete Alexander (33–12/1.55 ERA) and a breakthrough performance from future Hall of Famer Eppa Rixey (22–10/1.85 ERA), the defending NL champs finished just 2 1/2 games behind the Brooklyn Robins in 1916. They went on to have one more decent season before fading into obscurity for several decades.

Off the field, French painter Claude Monet gained lasting acclaim for his water lily series. Albert Einstein raised some eyebrows in academic circles when his theory of general relativity was presented. And 12,000 U.S. troops crossed the Mexican border in pursuit of Mexican revolutionary Pancho Villa, who had led an assault on Columbus, New Mexico. U.S. troops would soon be embroiled in a much larger conflict, as the Germans torpedoed a French passenger ship, causing eighty casualties—two of them Americans.

Fighting a war of a completely different kind, Connie Mack remained sanguine in the wake of his club’s abysmal 1916 effort. “The fans can rest assured that they will see a good ball team and good ball games at Shibe Park in 1917,” he wrote. “We may fall a trifle shy of the mark I expected to attain, but the loyal fans who have stuck by us will be well satisfied.” His vision of building a winner would come to fruition, but not for another thirteen seasons. It took the club five years to climb out of the basement and three more after that to place higher than third.

Bright Spots of 1916

Shibe Park

Opened in 1909, this concrete and steel marvel was among the gems of the AL. From the street, it looked more like a palace than a park, with its regal French Renaissance style facade and ornate tower. Constructed in a relatively undeveloped area of the city, the spacious interior could accommodate more than 30,000 spectators in standing room conditions. Deep alleys and monstrous center field dimensions kept outfielders on their toes. In an effort to draw more fans, the stadium featured special sections of seats (4,000 in all) that sold for a quarter. Unfortunately, blue laws delayed the arrival of Sunday baseball until 1926.

“Bullet Joe” Bush

Aptly nicknamed for the speed of his fastball, “Bullet Joe” Bush gave the A’s a fighting chance almost every time he took the hill. The twenty-three-year-old right-hander accounted for 42 percent of his team’s total victories, with 15. Although he also led the league in losses, Spalding’s Official Baseball Guide, 1917 explains that Bush was “one of the hardest men in the league to beat, and several times he lost only by the failure of the Athletics to score even one run for him.” His crowning achievement came on August 26, when he spun a no-hitter against Cleveland. He walked the leadoff man and then retired the next 27 Indians in order—no small feat with AL batting champ Tris Speaker in the lineup. Leaving Philadelphia after the 1917 slate, he had several productive years elsewhere, winning Fall Classics in Boston and New York. In 1921, he had trouble getting his curveball to break and developed a forkball. He won 76 games over the next four seasons. Adept with a bat, he was sometimes used as a pinch hitter. In 1930, he managed Allentown of the Eastern League to a championship.

Napoleon Lajoie

Slowed by injuries and age, Napoleon Lajoie had the worst offensive season of his career with the A’s in 1916, hitting just .246. But even as a shadow of his former self, the forty-one-year-old infielder was well worth the price of admission. Lajoie was among the greatest players of his era, with 5 batting crowns and a slew of fielding titles to his credit. At the plate, he was aided by a specially designed bat that had two knobs on the end to accommodate his split-hands grip. He was so well-respected that the Cleveland club became known as the “Naps” during his tenure, which ended after the 1914 slate. Opting for minor league duty rather than retirement in 1917, he played with Toronto of the International League, where he finally captured what had eluded him for twenty-one seasons—a championship. He was the first second baseman elected to the Hall of Fame in 1937.

Stuffy McInnis

After six straight .300 seasons, Stuffy McInnis dipped to a highly respectable .295 in 1916. He was an excellent bunter, successfully executing 26 sacrifices that year. His career total of 383 bunts ranks third on the all-time list. A veteran of three World Series with the A’s, he ended up on two more world champion squads in Boston (1918) and Pittsburgh (1925). The slender first baseman was a wizard with a glove, capturing two fielding titles in Philadelphia and four more elsewhere. In 1921, he set an all-time record for total chances without an error, a feat made especially impressive by the inferior mitts of the day. He allegedly got his nickname while playing amateur ball in Massachusetts, where his stellar defensive play evoked shouts of, “That’s the stuff, kid!” He made three pitching appearances in the North Carolina State League more than a decade after his retirement from the big league. McInnis coached for six seasons at Harvard University.

Amos Strunk

Amos Strunk was nicknamed “Lightning” for his amazing range in center field. He posted the highest fielding percentage in either league on four occasions. Capitalizing on his excellent speed, Connie Mack sometimes used him for “double squeeze plays,” a situation in which Strunk would follow a runner home from second base on a bunt. Above average offensively, the Philadelphia native posted his highest career totals in hits and doubles during the ill-fated 1916 campaign. After quarreling with Mack the following year, he was traded to the Red Sox. The transaction was a timely one, as Boston went on to win the 1918 World Series, Strunk’s fourth taste of October success. He was once ranked among the top 100 center fielders of all-time by historian Bill James.

Wally Schang

As a rookie on the championship A’s team of 1913, Wally Schang was a World Series star, batting .357 with a triple, a homer, and 7 RBIs. Proving that the performance was no fluke, he hung around the majors for nineteen years, frequently leading AL backstops in multiple offensive categories. Enamored with Schang’s hitting skills, Connie Mack usually played him at other positions when there were rookies on the mound. This left a more expendable catcher behind the plate to deal with the day’s wild pitches. Schang had a strong arm, foiling 44 percent of all stolen base attempts during his career—a number that rivals many of his contemporaries. In 1915, he tied a record by throwing out 6 runners in one game. In 1921, he set an AL record for assists in a game by a catcher (8). Despite playing in only 110 games during the 1916 slate, only two of Schang’s teammates surpassed him in extra-base hits and RBIs. His slugging and on-base percentages ranked second among A’s regulars that year. The stocky backstop called pitches for the greatest hurlers of his time, among them Lefty Grove, Eddie Plank, and Babe Ruth. He had a knack for making good clubs even better. By the time he retired, he had participated in six World Series with three different teams. Despite these accomplishments, he never earned more than 4 percent of the vote on Hall of Fame ballots.

The Bad and the Ugly

Whitey Witt

A slap hitter who typically collected around 40 infield safeties a year, Whitey Witt used his considerable speed to leg out 15 triples during his big-league debut in 1916. That was about the extent of his value to the A’s, as he compiled a pedestrian .245 average and committed an astounding total of 78 errors at shortstop—among the most horrific performances of all-time. Witt lasted four more years in Philadelphia, polishing his offensive skills considerably before his transfer to the Yankees. By then, he had been moved to the outfield, where he could do far less damage with his glove. He was a valuable leadoff man for the Bombers from 1921 through 1924, scoring no fewer than 88 runs in that span. He played in two Fall Classics, collecting 10 hits and 4 RBIs. In a famous anecdote, he was hit in the forehead by a soda bottle thrown by a St. Louis fan during a game with pennant implications in 1922. He was knocked unconscious but returned to deliver the game-winning hit for New York in the ninth.

Val Picinich

This New York City native attended Princeton for one year and played at the semipro level before joining the A’s in 1916. He was not yet ready for prime time, hitting just .195 in 40 games. Employed as a platoon catcher, he committed 8 errors and allowed 7 passed balls in limited duty. Sixty-nine percent of all runners who attempted to steal on him were successful. Still, he worked particularly well with “Bullet Joe” Bush, catching the right-hander’s August no-hitter. After two stints in the minors, Picinich honed his craft enough to remain in the big show for nearly two decades as a back-up receiver. He had the unique distinction of catching two more no-hitters during his career—one for Walter Johnson in 1920 and another for Howard Ehmke in 1923. In an era of contact hitters, Picinich was somewhat of a free-swinger, averaging 1 strikeout for every 7 at bats.

Weldon Wyckoff and Rube Bressler

A product of Bucknell University, Weldon Wyckoff led the AL in earned runs, walks, and wild pitches during the 1915 slate. In the absence of experienced starters, he was offered a roster spot the following year. Without a regular left-hander in the rotation, Connie Mack may have felt equally obligated to invite southpaw Rube Bressler back for an encore, despite his appalling 4–17 record and bloated 5.20 ERA in 1915. When both pitchers got off to a dreadful start and failed to measure up to Mack’s work ethic, the Philly skipper made an example of them. Wyckoff was sold to the Red Sox, and Bressler was demoted to New Haven of the Eastern League. Commenting on their dismissal, the Philadelphia Evening Ledger posted the following lines: “Rube Bressler and Weldon Wyckoff were among the most accomplished work-shirkers that ever adorned a manager’s bench. Mack, of course, knew this, but he believed they would eventually overcome this fault when they began to think like men instead of little boys. However, he ultimately realized that, despite their natural ability, neither would ever become a great pitcher because of that innate unwillingness to work.” Wyckoff appeared in just 10 more games during his major league career. Bressler polished his hitting skills and became a serviceable outfielder, exceeding the .300 mark five times between 1920 through 1932.

Rube Oldring

A popular figure in Philadelphia, Rube Oldring was selected by fans as the top player of 1913, receiving a brand new Cadillac. By 1916, his eleventh season with the A’s, his skills were deteriorating. No longer a base stealing threat, he slumped to .247 at the plate and began to misplay balls in the outfield with alarming regularity. He was sold to the Yankees in June and then released by manager Bill Donovan before the season’s end. Breaking in as a third baseman in 1906, Oldring had a tendency to overthrow first base. When his 1907 contract arrived, it included a letter from Connie Mack naming him the Athletics’ new starting center fielder. “You will have all the room you want and will not have to throw the ball over anybody’s head,” Mack wrote. It was a good move, as Oldring led the league in fielding percentage three times between 1910 and 1915. Finished as a major leaguer after 1918, he played and managed for four more seasons in the minors.

Charlie Pick

Hailed as the best hot corner guardian in the International League, Charlie Pick was a “can’t miss” prospect in 1916. The scouting reports proved to be highly exaggerated, as he compiled one of the worst fielding percentages in modern history for a regular third baseman (.899). In addition to Pick’s erratic defensive play, there were other areas of concern—mainly his subpar .241 batting average and tendency to get caught stealing. Demoted to the minors in 1917, he went on to spend portions of three seasons with the Cubs and Braves. He continued to perform unreliably at third and was eventually shifted to second base. He set a dubious record for most at bats without a hit (11) in a marathon 26-inning game against Brooklyn during the 1920 slate. He was far more successful in the minors, compiling a .308 batting average over 13 campaigns.

Jack Nabors

This rail-thin Alabama native may have been the unluckiest pitcher who ever lived. Called up from Class D ball in August of 1915, Nabors dropped his first 5 decisions. After finally collecting a victory in his tenth big-league start, he went on to post the lowest single-season winning percentage of all-time among pitchers with at least 20 decisions. Nabors had decent speed, a good curveball, and fair control. What he didn’t have was the support of his teammates. From May to mid-September of 1916, the right-hander made 26 starts and won none of them. In that span, the A’s were shut out on 5 occasions. Several additional games were lost by a single run. Nabors made his final appearance in April 1917, leaving the majors with a dreadful 1–25 record.

Tom Sheehan

Plucked from the Three-I League in July 1915, Tom Sheehan secured himself a job as a swingman. Showing his versatility, he made 17 starts and 21 relief appearances during the 1916 slate. Opponents hit him at a relatively healthy clip, however, prompting the Philadelphia Evening Ledger to report that he lacked stamina and “seemed to be holding back, fearing that he would not get the ball over the plate.” The result was an ugly 1–16 record and a demotion to the South Atlantic League. A superstar in the minors, he won at least 26 games four times. He scouted, coached, and managed in the majors after his retirement as a player.

Mack’s Collegians

For the second straight season, Connie Mack maintained the delusion that he could rebuild a dynasty by raiding college campuses. June was a particularly fruitless month with a host of ill-advised signings. Representing Wesleyan University, left-hander Les Lanning was cut loose in August with an 8.14 ERA. Hailing from the College of the Holy Cross, catcher Doc Carroll received his walking papers in July after hitting at a sluggish .091 pace. A University of Maine alumnus, infielder Harland Rowe, was shipped out in September with a substandard fielding percentage and a .139 batting average. Utility infielder Lee King, who had graduated from the University of Amherst, rounded out a procession of June flops with a slew of errors at short and a hapless .188 mark at the plate. Mack waited until the season was over before dishing King to Springfield of the Eastern League.