Chapter SEVEN
1932 Boston Red Sox
Won 43
Lost 111
Curse of the Other Guys
The Boston club was included in the foundational American League (AL) lineup in 1901. For several years, players wore blue socks and were referred to by various titles, the most popular being “Americans” in respect to their junior circuit affiliation. After the 1907 slate, owner John I. Taylor issued an official team logo depicting a bright red stocking emblazoned with the name “Red Sox.” And so the team was formally labeled.
With a host of capable players, the club was in contention from the beginning, finishing no lower than third place in the first four seasons. Led by 500-game winner Cy Young and slick-fielding Jimmy Collins, who standardized defensive play at third base, the Sox won baseball’s first World Series in 1903. They had a good shot at a repeat performance the following year, but tensions between rival league magnates prompted New York Giants’ owner John T. Brush to boycott the affair.
As the original roster slowly dissolved, various owners filled the voids with such budding superstars as Tris Speaker, Babe Ruth, and Smoky Joe Wood, a short-lived pitching phenom who won 57 games in a two-year span before an arm injury affected his durability. The club entered a new era of dominance with four world championships between 1912 and 1919. When theatrical producer Harry Frazee bought the team, all the components for success were in place. If only he had left well enough alone.
It became a folk legend, how Frazee sold baseball’s brightest star to the Yankees, allegedly dooming the franchise to an eighty-six-year championship drought. But there is far more to the story than Babe Ruth. In fact, Ruth wasn’t particularly unhappy about leaving, and Frazee wasn’t terribly sorry to see him go. The trouble began long before the Babe moved to New York. When Frazee bought the club in 1916, the transaction took place without the intercession of AL president Ban Johnson. Johnson was the domineering type and resented Frazee’s independent spirit. The two locked horns in 1919, when pitcher Carl Mays walked off the mound in the middle of a game against the White Sox. Johnson clamored for his suspension, but Frazee had other ideas, selling the insubordinate hurler to the Yankees. From that point onward, Johnson restricted Frazee’s ability to engineer deals with most AL clubs.
As Boston began to slide in the standings, Frazee resorted to auctioning off his best players to New York. After the 1920 slate, he got rid of Hall of Fame right-hander Waite Hoyt and veteran catcher Wally Schang. The following December, he added two more talented hurlers to the Yankee staff: “Bullet Joe” Bush and “Sad Sam” Jones. Further enabling the Bombers’ rise to supremacy, he traded away the AL’s premier defensive shortstop, Everett Scott, who would set the record for consecutive games played while in pinstripes (later broken by Lou Gehrig). In 1922 and 1923, Frazee completed a string of generous transactions by donating infielder Joe Dugan and southpaw Herb Pennock (another Hall of Famer) to the Yankee cast. The results were highly predictable, as New York won 6 pennants during the 1920s, while the Red Sox went in a completely different direction.
The Bean Town Faithful
When Bob Quinn assumed partial ownership in 1923, he inherited a stripped-down franchise with little hope for immediate improvement. Quinn knew something about turning things around, having led the Browns out of the second division to within a hair’s breadth of the AL pennant while serving as general manager from 1917 through 1922. Although the forecast in Boston was far less promising, the Sox had solid financial backing, with glass tycoon Palmer Winslow holding a minority share in the club. Unfortunately, Winslow passed away, and the money dried up before Quinn could enact any meaningful change. The team finished in last place for six straight seasons.
Things could have been a lot worse. Even when they weren’t competing, Boston maintained a modest fan base, ranking eleventh in attendance from 1928 through 1930. This was due, in part, to the club’s winning tradition. Entering the Depression Era, the Red Sox had still won more championships than any of their AL peers. They also played in one of the most unique stadiums in the majors. Opened in 1912, Fenway Park sported cozy foul lines and a quirky outfield with numerous facets. The most unusual feature was the left field wall, which stood twenty-five feet high and was fortified with a ten-foot embankment known as “Duffy’s Cliff.” The treacherous hill was named for Duffy Lewis, Boston’s regular left fielder from 1910 to 1917, who demonstrated his mastery of the obstacle by posting no fewer than 20 assists for five consecutive seasons.
Perhaps the most amusing story associated with “Duffy’s Cliff” can be credited to an outfielder by the name of Smead Jolley. Big for the era, at 6 feet, 3 inches and 210 pounds, Jolley was touted as the new Babe Ruth in the Pacific Coast League, where he smashed 113 homers between 1927 and 1929. In his prodigious major league debut, he collected 66 extra-base hits and 114 RBIs for the White Sox, but his range was so limited that he was referred to by one writer as the “greatest stationary outfielder in history.” Tiring quickly of his defensive ineptitude, Chicago executives dished him to the Red Sox in April 1932. Upon his arrival, Boston coaches spent more than a week training Jolley to climb “Duffy’s Cliff.” It would prove to be futile, as Jolley misjudged a fly ball and literally fell flat on his face in a game against Washington. Stomping angrily into the dugout between innings, he berated his mentors for lacking the foresight to teach him how to come down the hill.
Determined to improve his glove work, the Red Sox staff attempted to make a catcher out of Jolley. The experiment lasted just 5 games. During one of those contests, Joe Judge of the Senators hit a pop fly directly above home plate and ended up at second base as Jolley fumbled with his mask and then failed to take charge of the play. When Judge came to bat again, Jolley explained that since he’d been more than generous the last time, Judge should return the favor and hit the ball somewhere else. A larger than life character, Jolley went on to become one of the most popular players on the worst Red Sox squad of all-time. At one point during his brief major league career, he had a fan club with thousands of followers calling themselves “The Jolley Boosters.” In all, he would spend just four seasons in the Big Show.
Two Steps Forward, Three Steps Back
In 1931, Boston ended a long string of last-place finishes with a surprising late-season surge that landed them in sixth. Unfortunately, the Great Depression held the nation in a stranglehold, and the Sox posted their worst gate receipts in six years. Fans missed a marvelous show as outfielder Earl Webb set the all-time record for doubles in a season (which has survived into the twenty-first century). It was a feel good story—Webb being a shy, modest man who had toiled in the coal mines of Bon Air, Tennessee, before being persuaded by his father to sign a big-league contract. Logging extensive time in the minors, the unassuming right fielder had a breakout season in 1930 and then etched his name in the record books with 67 doubles the following year. The Boston Globe remained unmoved, calling the accomplishment a “stunt” and claiming that Webb had been “shooting for the record all season” by deliberately holding up at second base. Manager Shano Collins jumped to Webb’s defense (sort of), explaining that the reason Webb ended up with so many doubles is because he was “too darned slow” to make it to third base on hard-hit liners. Webb credited Collins for encouraging him to play beyond his potential.
A popular figure in Boston, Collins was a seasoned professional by the time he assumed managerial duties in 1931. He began his career with the White Sox in 1910 and held a starting outfield position for the better part of eleven seasons. He played in two Fall Classics, including the scandalous 1919 affair, in which eight members of the team conspired to throw the World Series. When indictments were handed down, Collins was not only absolved of any misconduct, he was actually named as a wronged party, having allegedly been defrauded of nearly $2,000. In 1921, he was dealt to Boston, where he spent four full campaigns before being handed his release. He honed his managerial skills in the Western League and New England League.
Collins was described by one writer as a “philosophical sort of fellow.” Careful not to miscalculate his team’s aptitude, the soft-spoken manager couldn’t help being a bit enthusiastic about the impending 1932 slate. The pitching staff had really shined in the second half of the 1931 campaign. With the “right combination around second base” and “more consistent hitting,” Collins believed that the Red Sox could compete with any team in the league. But it was not to be, as things began to fall apart at the beginning of spring training.
On February 29, the Red Sox received some devastating news that pitcher Ed Morris was stabbed to death at his own going-away party in Flomaton, Alabama. Gasoline attendant Joe White was sentenced to three years in prison for first-degree manslaughter in the knifing death of Morris, who was slated to depart for the club’s spring facility in Savannah. According to witnesses, a verbal altercation between the two men led to a scuffle. Morris knocked White down, but tripped in the process, leaving himself vulnerable to White’s blade. Transported to a nearby hospital with two deep wounds to the chest, Morris was initially listed as critical but expected to survive. His condition worsened, however, and he died several hours later. In his rookie year of 1928, the right-hander had won 19 games. He maintained his status as Boston’s staff ace the following season with 14 more victories. A sore arm reduced his effectiveness in 1930 and 1931, but the Sox were hopeful for a return to form in 1932. When news of his death reached camp, Bob Quinn expressed sorrow and told the Associated Press that he would not pursue another pitcher.
Things got even drearier for the Hub Men when veteran hurler Pete Donohue (a three-time 20-game winner) sustained a bruise to his right leg that became badly infected, requiring hospitalization. By the time the season began, team morale was fairly low. The Bosox opened at Griffith Stadium with President Herbert Hoover on hand. Hoover had attended several previous games in Washington, and the Senators had lost them all. At the 1931 World Series, he had thrown a ceremonial pitch high over the head of A’s catcher Mickey Cochrane. On a cold and blustery day in the nation’s capitol, America’s commander in chief was wild again, launching a stray throw wide of umpire George A. Hildebrand. Several Red Sox players lined up in front of the Presidential Box gave chase, and, according to newspaper reports, one of them made a circus catch. A crowd of 18,000 saw Boston’s number one starter, Danny MacFayden, battle Alvin Crowder to a scoreless tie after 9 innings. President Hoover didn’t stick around for Heinie Manush’s dramatic game-winning double in the bottom of the tenth. The Red Sox began the season precisely where they would end up—in last place.
No One at the Helm
April and May were tough months, as the Sox lost more than 80 percent of their games. Some of the defeats were particularly appalling, including an 11–0 fiasco against the Tigers and a 13–3 drubbing in New York. Before June had even arrived, various news services were already reporting on a possible sale of the franchise. Owner Bob Quinn vented his frustration to writers, stating that he had done all he could during his nine-year tenure in Boston only to watch things unravel for his club time and again. He confirmed that he might be willing to make a deal if he received the right offer. When Quinn estimated the value of the team to be around 1.75 million, the Associated Press sardonically referred to his words as “poetry.”
Making this story even more provocative, Babe Ruth suddenly entered the picture, informing a group of journalists that he had been approached by unnamed parties asking if he was interested in becoming co-owner/ manager of the Bosox. Baseball’s preeminent slugger revealed that he intended to remain with the Yankees through the 1934 slate if owner Jacob Ruppert would have him, but he did not rule out a return to his former club. Ruth was having another fine year offensively, and the prospect of his homecoming (in any capacity) was music to the ears of many.
Having guided the team to a pitiful 11–46 start, manager Shano Collins dropped a bombshell in mid-June when he unexpectedly resigned from his post. A staunch competitor, Collins explained in an apologetic manner that he just couldn’t handle losing anymore. Beleaguered executive Bob Quinn had received no advance notice and was left scrambling for a replacement. Collins recommended infielder Marty McManus as a replacement, and, in a tough spot, Quinn had little choice but to concur.
McManus was a more than competent player, having split time almost equally at second and third base during his career. He had hit .280 or better eight times. Highly skilled with a glove, he went on to be posthumously ranked among the top sixty second baseman of all-time by baseball historian Bill James. He was also enthusiastic about taking the job, confiding to the press that he had always hoped to manage a team someday, even if it was the lowly Red Sox. In his first game at the helm, he showed some spirit when he was ejected for arguing a call. But good intentions could not make up for an inferior squad. Although the Sox played much better under McManus, winning 33 percent of their remaining games, they continued to fall behind the competition.
Wheeling and Dealing
Bob Quinn remained proactive all season long, despite his team’s continuing dysfunction on the field. April and June were the busiest months for transactions, with the arrivals of Smead Jolley, Dale Alexander, and Roy Johnson. The trio went on to form the core of Boston’s offense. But not all of Quinn’s acquisitions proved helpful to the club. Obtained from the White Sox, catcher Bennie Tate allowed 53 stolen bases in 76 games. Right-hander Gordon Rhodes, a Yankee castoff, went 1–8 with a 5.11 ERA. A few of the players shipped out of Boston improved drastically with a change of scenery. Veteran backstop Charlie Berry hit .305 in Chicago. Pitcher Danny MacFayden experienced a career revival with the Braves, collecting 45 wins in a three-year span, while maintaining an ERA below 3.00. After a stint in the minors, discarded outfielder Jack Rothrock became an integral member of the 1934 Cardinals (a.k.a. “The Gashouse Gang”), generally considered to be among the greatest teams of all-time.
With a roster in constant flux, the Red Sox failed to play consistently in the second half. July proved to be their most successful month, as they posted a record just 4 games below .500. The rest of the season was a washout, with demoralizing defeats occurring regularly. The most odious loss of the season came on September 2 in Philadelphia, when future Hall of Famer Al Simmons raked Boston pitching for 2 homers and 7 RBIs. Cooperstown-bound first baseman Jimmie Foxx launched his home run number 49 of the season, while shortstop Eric McNair (saddled with the humiliating nickname “Boob”) added another pair of round-trippers in a 15–0 massacre.
Acquired in a June trade from the Tigers, first baseman Dale Alexander gave Boston fans a ray of sunshine when he battled Jimmie Foxx for the AL batting crown throughout August and September. Alexander was one of many all-bat, no-glove players who appeared briefly on the major league stage during the Lively Ball Era. After making a big splash in the International League, he paced the AL with 215 hits in his 1929 debut (a record for rookies). But his defense was so shoddy that he eventually ended up on the Detroit bench. Returning to daily service in Boston, he hammered opposing pitchers at a .367 pace—good enough to rob slugger Jimmie Foxx of a Triple Crown. At season’s end, the Associated Press applauded his accomplishment, but others were less congratulatory. A sizable body of conscientious objectors complained that Alexander had only logged 392 official at bats to Foxx’s 585 and should be stripped of the title. The appeal fell on deaf ears.
Similar controversies had arisen in the past, particularly in 1926, when catcher Bubbles Hargrave claimed the batting crown with just 365 plate appearances. At the time, existing rules required that a player appear in 100 games to qualify. Hargrave had reached the quota with a slew of pinch hitting assignments. The parameters were later reset to 100 games in the field, but this did not stop utility man Debs Garms of the Pirates from stealing the 1940 title with a .355 average in just 385 at bats. More than one alteration would follow as loopholes continued to be exploited. Players must now log 502 plate appearances to qualify for a batting crown.
The New Regime
Had the Red Sox played all of their games against Chicago in 1932, things would have turned out differently. Boston won 12 of 22 meetings and hit at a respectable .285 clip in Comiskey Park (more than 30 points above the cumulative team average). But life could be cruel for second division clubs during the early 1930s, with the Yankees, Athletics, and Senators vying for supremacy. In 1932, the Sox ran up a dismal 14–52 record against that triumvirate. Overall, Boston hitters were impatient at the plate, ran the bases poorly, and hit for very little power. Pitchers had trouble finding the strike zone and gave up far too many safeties. Defensively, only one AL club botched more plays. On the whole, it was a time to forget.
The season unfolded in a climate of extreme hardship, as the national unemployment rate soared to record levels. Many Americans were living on the streets or in cars. In a highly publicized personal tragedy, the son of renowned aviator Charles Lindberg was kidnapped and held for ransom. Two months later, the toddler’s body was recovered a short distance from the family home with a severely fractured skull. It would be more than a year before a viable suspect was arrested. Overseas, trouble was brewing, as members of the Nazi party captured 230 parliamentary seats. Change of a more positive nature was on the way for the Red Sox.
In February 1933, Bob Quinn sold the struggling franchise to Tom Yawkey. Having inherited a fortune from mining, logging, and oil interests, the affable executive gave Fenway a facelift, leveling “Duffy’s Cliff” and adding a state of the art scoreboard (which is still in use today). Generous with his cash, Yawkey was able to sign such high-profile players as Jimmie Foxx, Joe Cronin, and the Ferrell brothers (Wes and Rick). He also funneled money into a farm system that went on to produce a multitude of stars, among them Ted Williams and Bobby Doerr. Although the club never captured a championship during his term as owner, Yawkey left behind a legion of friends and admirers when he passed away in 1976.
Bright Spots of 1932
Dale Alexander
Dale Alexander battered International League pitching for a .380 average with 31 homers in 1928. Had there been a Rookie of the Year award in 1929, he would have been a prime candidate. Unfortunately, the big slugger (6 feet, 3 inches and 210 pounds) was a liability in the field, leading the AL in errors for two straight seasons. Off to a .250 start in 1932 and reduced to the role of a pinch hitter, he was traded, along with Roy Johnson, for outfielder Earl Webb. Webb faded into obscurity, while Alexander claimed a batting championship, hitting .372 in a Boston uniform. Making an instant impact, he logged 6 multihit games in his first 10 appearances with the Red Sox. His average dropped nearly 100 points in 1933, and he was released. Interestingly, statistics indicate that he had actually improved his defense. He played in the farm system through the 1942 slate and managed at various minor league levels. He was a longtime scout for the Giants and was posthumously elected to the International League Hall of Fame.
Smead Jolley
Smead Jolley arrived in Boston in April 1932, having gotten off to a roaring .357 start in 12 games with the White Sox. His fielding was so bad that it became the stuff of baseball folklore, with one mythical account alleging that he made 3 errors on one play. In limited action during the 1931 slate, he botched 5 of 35 chances—which would have put him on pace for an all-time record had he played full-time. His worst season in the field came in 1932, with 16 miscues. His value to the club was strictly offensive, as he led the squad in homers, hits, and RBIs. His most productive afternoon of the 1932 campaign came on July 27 against the White Sox, when he scored 4 runs and drove in 4 more with a homer and 2 doubles. He had a pair of multihomer games that year. When his average fell to .282 in 1933, he was traded to the Browns, who instantly optioned him to the Pacific Coast League, along with two players, for top infield prospect Alan Strange. Strange scarcely made an impact, while Jolley remained productive in the minors for several years, claiming 4 batting titles and a 2 RBI crowns. By the time his professional career ended in 1941, he had accumulated 751 doubles, 382 homers, and close to 3,600 hits in combined major/minor league experience. He was elected to the Pacific Coast League Hall of Fame in 2003.
Roy Johnson
This stocky outfielder of Cherokee descent lived in the shadow of his younger brother Bob, who collected no fewer than 20 homers and 92 RBIs for the Athletics every year from 1933 through 1941. Roy had considerably less power, but he drew a fair amount of walks and was capable of stealing bases. In 1929, he led the league with 45 doubles while playing for the Tigers. In 1931, he legged out 19 triples—tops in the junior circuit. With a strong arm, Roy twice led all outfielders in assists, but he was error-prone, finishing among the top three in that category on seven occasions. In 1929, he set a modern-era record that still stands, with 31 miscues. During the 1932 slate, he gave Smead Jolley a run for his money, with 13 errors in 85 outfield appearances. On a positive note, he put forth a solid offensive effort that year, scoring 70 runs and hitting .298 in 94 games with Boston. He added 44 walks and 13 steals, reaching base nearly 38 percent of the time. In an extra-inning affair against the Indians on August 4, he had 5 hits in 7 at bats. An aggressive player, he ran over Bill Dickey at home plate one afternoon, knocking the Yankee catcher unconscious and chipping one of his teeth. Considered a detriment on defense, Johnson was demoted to the minors in 1938. He remained at the AA level through the 1945 slate.
Ivy Andrews
A top Yankee prospect, this right-hander won 18 games in two minor league seasons before earning a promotion in 1931. But there wasn’t much room for a green recruit with three Hall of Famers on the New York staff. In June 1932, Andrews was traded to the Red Sox with $50,000 for Danny MacFayden. Before the trade, he had missed part of the season with the flu and lumbago. A big right-hander, at 6 feet, 1 inch and 200 pounds, he posted unfavorable strikeout-to-walk ratios throughout his career. His control was good overall, as he averaged only 2 free passes per 9 innings. In 1932, he got into 25 games with Boston and was the only staff member to post a winning percentage over .500. He was also among the team ERA leaders, at 3.81. Showing some versatility, he won 2 of 3 decisions as a reliever and posted a 1.50 ERA in 9 appearances out of the bull pen. He was traded to the Browns in December 1933 and eventually ended up back in the Bronx as a part-time closer. He won two World Series with the Yankees and then played in the minors through 1944.
Tom Oliver
Tom Oliver had absolutely no homerun power. He never hit a round-tripper in his major league career and reportedly holds the record for most hits (534) and RBIs (176) by a player without one. There were several other things he excelled at, however. For starters, he was an exceptional outfielder, hailed by the Associated Press as “one of the greatest ball hawks” of the AL. Oliver paced the circuit in putouts twice, while also claiming a fielding title. On the offensive side, he hit for a steady .277 average during his short career and knew how to punch the ball into the alleys, collecting more than 30 doubles in two of his three seasons as a full-timer. In 1932, he swung the stick at a .264 clip, while appearing all over the Boston batting order. He was used most often as a sixth-slot hitter, compiling a .278 average with 14 extra-base hits and 25 RBIs in that capacity. Unable to generate the long ball even at hitter-friendly Fenway, he failed to fit into the Red Sox scheme. In October 1933, he was sold to Baltimore of the International League. He played until 1942 and managed in the minors into the 1950s. He coached for the A’s and Orioles.
Fenway Flops
Rabbit Warstler
Born Harold Burton Warstler, this infielder was nicknamed for his diminutive stature at 5 feet, 7 inches and 150 pounds. There were four other players who shared the moniker, the most prominent being Hall of Famer Rabbit Maranville, who was nearing the end of his career as Warstler was getting started. In the minors, Warstler accrued a .285 lifetime batting average, but he was far less proficient against major league pitching, hitting just .185 in his 1930 Boston debut. He raised his average in subsequent years but would never qualify as a viable offensive presence on any of the four clubs he played for. Warstler had a habit of positioning himself near the outfield grass and utilizing his strong arm to rob opposing players of hits. In 1932, the strategy wasn’t working, as he flubbed 41 plays—third most among AL shortstops. In 115 games, he hit just .211, with a meager .259 on-base percentage. Since the base paths were often empty for Boston, he was scarcely given a chance to prove his adeptness at executing sacrifices. Of little use to the Red Sox, he was traded to Philadelphia, where he went on to improve his defense dramatically. A manager from the old school, Connie Mack often employed a “little ball” strategy with Warstler. The light-hitting utility man finished second in sacrifices every year from 1934 through 1937. Warstler played eleven seasons in the majors, hitting a lowly .229, while earning praise from the well-respected Mack for his defensive prowess. He continued in the minors through the 1942 slate and retired to his home town of North Canton, Ohio.
Bennie Tate
Bennie Tate began the 1932 campaign with the White Sox but managed just 1 hit in 11 at bats. He had definitely seen better days, having topped the .300 mark four times as a part-timer with Washington and Chicago. In late April, he was packaged in a five-player deal and shipped off to Boston. His hitting improved markedly, but he still posted the lowest batting average of any regular catcher in the majors, at .240. He was also deficient behind the plate, finishing fifth in errors and second in stolen bases allowed. In all, he erased just 35 percent of runners attempting to advance on him. After the 1932 slate, he was sold to Montreal of the International League. He made one more brief appearance with the Cubs before finishing his career as a player/manager in the Southeastern League. Something to be proud of in his retirement, Tate was a member of the only championship Senators squad in 1924. He debuted in April of that year and hit .302 in limited duty. During the 1924 Fall Classic, he appeared in 3 contests versus the Giants. In Game 3, he earned an RBI with a bases-loaded walk off of reliever Rosy Ryan.
Jack Russell
Jack Russell led the AL with 20 losses for the Red Sox in 1930. The Sox were bad that year, but his 5.45 ERA wouldn’t have helped him in any city. Fielders needed to be on their toes whenever Russell took the hill, as the right-hander gave up more hits than innings pitched in nearly all of his fifteen seasons and averaged just 1.8 strikeouts per 9 frames. The slender hurler won 10 or more games twice between 1928 and 1931, but his mechanics were way off in 1932. In 11 appearances for Boston, he accrued a 1–7 record, yielding 4 or more runs on 6 occasions. After a particularly rough relief outing against the Browns on June 8, he was traded to Cleveland for Pete Appleton. Appleton failed to win a game in Boston, while Russell went 5–7 with the Indians. Traded to the Senators, he rekindled his career as a relief specialist, leading the league in saves for two consecutive seasons. He was the first reliever selected for the All-Star team. Upon his retirement in 1940, Russell helped raise funds to build a stadium in Clearwater, Florida, for the Phillies. The spring facility was named after him.
Hod Lisenbee
Hod Lisenbee had a phenomenal rookie year with Washington, going 18–9 while leading the league with 4 shutouts. After a dismal follow-up season that landed him in the minors, he was traded with four players to the Red Sox for star infielder Buddy Myer. He won 10 games in 1930, but slipped to 5–12 the following season. The 1932 campaign started on positive note when he scattered 6 hits and 1 run in a tough complete game loss to the Senators. By May, however, he found himself working almost exclusively out of the bull pen. In 13 relief assignments, he amassed an ERA of 5.77. By the end of June, Boston management had seen enough, shipping him to Buffalo of the International League. Lisenbee employed a peculiar windup in which he would windmill both of his arms, sometimes in opposite directions, before stepping and throwing to the plate. The motion was considered deceptive and eventually declared a balk. Lisenbee had an extensive professional career, attempting two major league comebacks. During World War II, when many good players had been lost to military service, he appeared in 31 games for the Reds. He was forty-six years old at the time. He ended his career with a hometown team in Clarksville, Tennessee, after the 1949 slate. An interesting claim to fame, in his rookie season of 1927, he beat the “Murderer’s Row” Yankees five times.
Danny MacFayden
The Red Sox were expecting great things from this bespectacled right-hander after he won 16 games for a mediocre squad in 1931. His follow-up was an unmitigated disaster, as he accrued a 1–10 record despite being backed by 3 or more runs in 7 of his 12 appearances. Of little use to the club, he was dealt to the Yankees on June 5. He spent portions of three seasons in the Big Apple before returning to Boston to play for the Braves. He was far more successful in the National League, going 45–36 in a three-year span with a career-high 17 wins in 1936. Born on Cape Cod, MacFayden turned down an opportunity to attend Dartmouth College. Known for his above-average curveball, he never registered more than 76 strikeouts in any season. After his retirement in 1943, he coached baseball at Bowdoin College for more than two decades.