Chapter TEN

1941 Philadelphia Phillies

Won 43

Lost 111

City of Broken Dreams

The Phillies can trace their heritage back to 1883, when they joined the National League (NL) under the guise of the Philadelphia Quakers. Their first season was highly forgettable, as they prevailed in just 17 contests, compiling one of the worst winning percentages in baseball history. Rookie pitcher John Coleman established all-time records for losses (48), earned runs (291), and hits (772) during that ill-fated campaign—his only claim to fame in a highly unremarkable career.

In 1886, the Quakers climbed into contention and finished no lower than fourth through the 1895 slate. They changed their name to the “Philadelphias” along the way, and the moniker was officially abbreviated to its current form in 1890. To date, the Phillies are the longest running one-name, one-city franchise in professional sports. They are also among the least successful, with just one world championship to their credit during the twentieth century. Their first appearance on the October stage would not occur until 1915, when they dropped 4 straight games to the Red Sox, each by a single run. Shortly afterward, the club fell on hard times, finishing last on sixteen occasions before finally earning another postseason berth in 1950 (and getting swept by the Yankees).

Despite their lack of success in the standings, the team went on to harbor a number of Cooperstown inductees during their first few decades of play. Outfielder Billy Hamilton won two batting titles and set multiple records for runs scored in a Phillies uniform. Another talented fly chaser, Ed Delahanty, topped the .400 mark at the plate in consecutive seasons with Philadelphia. Perhaps the greatest Philly of them all, right-hander Pete Alexander, spent seven seasons in the Quaker City, winning at least 27 games on five occasions while claiming back-to-back pitching Triple Crowns.

The Revolving Door

In the 1930s, the team passed into the hands of Gerry Nugent. A furniture salesman and Phillies enthusiast, Nugent married the secretary of owner William F. Baker. Impressed with his many ideas, the infamously frugal Baker hired Nugent to work in the front office. When Baker passed away, Nugent’s wife inherited a large share of the club’s stock. Nugent was appointed president and maintained control of the crumbling empire for more than a decade.

As the Phillies repeatedly failed to stage a convincing pennant run, attendance dropped off sharply. During the 1920s, the team had averaged more than 4,000 fans per game at their most successful point. By the mid-1930s, that figure had plummeted to nearly half. Among the least attractive venues in the majors, the Baker Bowl was an appropriate setting for perpetual failure. Opened in 1887, the wooden structure was rebuilt with steel and brick after a massive fire broke out in 1894. The stadium was architecturally unsound, and sections of the seats collapsed on two separate occasions, killing twelve while injuring close to 300. The outfield dimensions were a pitcher’s nightmare, with a 280-foot foul line in right field. A tin-plated wall with a twenty-foot screen was installed to discourage cheap home runs, but the park remained a hitter’s paradise until the Phillies moved out in 1939.

Incessantly strapped for cash, Nugent was compelled to sell his best players to keep the club in business. Catcher Spud Davis was dealt to the Cardinals after five consecutive .300 seasons at the plate. Slugger Dolph Camilli was sold to Brooklyn, where he went on to collect no fewer than 23 homers and 96 RBIs for five straight years. Among the best shortstops in the majors, Dick Bartell played in three World Series elsewhere after Nugent dumped him. No one was safe, not even future Hall of Famer Chuck Klein, who was let go three times during Nugent’s tenure.

The Phillies looked especially bad compared to their intra-city counterparts, the Athletics, who languished in the American League (AL) basement for seven straight years before winning three consecutive pennants beginning in 1929. With Connie Mack calling the shots and five eventual Hall of Famers on the roster, the club reached a pinnacle in 1931, with 107 regular-season victories. There was a feeling among some hometown fans that if the A’s could do it, so could the Phillies, but Nugent’s never-ending transactions rendered such aspirations futile. He made no apologies for his willingness to barter, complaining that the club was perennially forced to get by on the lowest attendance in the league.

After a last place showing in 1940, Nugent was once again looking to liquidate his assets. This time it was Kirby Higbe, the team’s most reliable pitcher, who was placed on the auction block. The Dodgers were willing to shell out $100,000 along with three players to obtain Higbe’s services. Confident in his own abilities, the sturdy right-hander boasted to sportswriter Grantland Rice that he would win 25 games in 1941. He came close, collecting a league-high 22 victories and leading the Dodgers to a World Series appearance. None of the three players obtained for Higbe proved useful in Philadelphia. Once again, Nugent had squandered one of his vital cogs.

A Doctor in the House

After just two years of cohabitation with the A’s at Shibe Park, the Phillies were already behind on the rent. As a result, little was done to improve the roster for the 1941 campaign, especially in the pitching department. Kirby Higbe and Hugh Mulcahy had combined for more than 50 percent of the club’s total victory share in 1940. With half of that one-two punch already gone, the club received some unsettling news shortly before spring training. Mulcahy was to become the first major leaguer drafted into military service. A durable right-hander, Mulcahy had won 13 games while working 280 innings (fifth in the NL). The loss was devastating to the club. Assigned to an infantry division of the army, he missed the entire 1941 campaign. His request for an honorable discharge was accepted on December 5, but Pearl Harbor was attacked just two days later, forcing him back into active service. He spent more than four years in the military altogether, returning for an unsuccessful comeback attempt in 1946.

The rest of the Philly pitching staff was a mess. Right-hander Si Johnson reported to camp with faulty mechanics and several extra pounds. Veteran Cy Blanton, who had led the NL twice in shutouts, was still nursing a sore arm from the previous season. Vito Tamulis, hailed by manager Doc Prothro as “one of the top relief men in baseball,” developed painful blisters on his foot and was traded shortly into the regular season. Among the pleasant surprises of the spring was Tommy Hughes, a twenty-one-year-old right-hander who had won 14 games with Baltimore of the International League in 1940. He proved valuable as both a starter and reliever in 1941.

The infield was vastly inexperienced. Utility man Heinie Mueller was the senior of the group, with three full seasons under his belt. When he failed to produce at second base, twenty-three-year-old Texas League prospect Danny Murtaugh took over. Slick-fielding third baseman Pinky May had just two years of experience at the hot corner. First sacker Nick Etten had appeared in two partial campaigns with the A’s. Shortstop Bobby Bragan was a sophomore. The outfield was equally green with Danny Litwhiler and Stan Benjamin having appeared in just 56 games between them.

In the previous decade, the Phillies had played under three different managers and finished no higher than fourth. They had begun the 1940s on a sour note with their third consecutive last place finish. Hired as skipper in 1939, Doc Prothro’s extensive minor league background failed to benefit the club. At one time, Prothro had been a practicing dentist (hence the nickname) playing for a semipro team in Dyersburg, Tennessee. He was spotted by a Senators’ scout and sent straight to Washington. In all, he spent portions of five seasons in the Big Show, mostly as a third baseman. Upon retiring as a player, he managed in the Southern Association for eleven years before accepting the job in Philadelphia.

After two seasons at the helm, Prothro was realistic about his team’s chances. He admitted that the Phillies were weaker than most opponents but added that he expected them to show some “hustle” and “fight” no matter how far out of the race they ended up. Under his guidance, the Phillies ranked second in stolen bases during the 1941 slate while losing more than 70 percent of their games.

Despite obvious shortfalls, the team showed a little promise in the spring. On March 16, they touched up Indians’ flamethrower Bob Feller (who had won a pitching Triple Crown the previous year) for 4 runs in a 5–1 win. In the Grapefruit League, five hitters topped the .300 mark, inspiring an Associated Press writer to flatteringly refer to the club as the “flogging Phillies.” But not everyone was hitting. In fact, Philadelphia fans were forced to watch the downfall of their most revered player.

Klein in Decline

Chuck Klein’s meteoric rise to fame began in 1928, when he hammered 57 extra-base hits in 88 Central League games. By August of that year, he was wearing a Phillies uniform and endearing himself to fans with a .360 batting average. Using a massive forty-two-ounce bat, the broad-shouldered right fielder quickly became one of the most prolific hitters in the majors over a five-year span. From 1929 through 1933, he led the NL four times in homers, three times in runs scored, and twice in RBIs. He captured at least 60 percent of the MVP vote in three consecutive seasons, claiming the honor in 1932.

Enhancing his reputation as a well-rounded player, Klein learned to deftly snare the unpredictable caroms of the towering right field wall at the Baker Bowl. In 1930, he set an all-time record for assists by an outfielder with 44. His totals declined rapidly after that, as runners were hesitant to test his arm. Surrounded by mediocrity, Klein’s on-field exploits took up more space in newspapers than the fate of the team itself. When comparisons to Babe Ruth arose, he dismissed them with characteristic humility.

After a Triple Crown season in 1933, Gerry Nugent decided he couldn’t afford to keep Klein on the roster. To the dismay of countless fans, the slugger was traded to Chicago for three players and an exorbitant sum of cash. Outside the Baker Bowl, Klein looked far less superhuman, but he remained among the better outfielders in the NL for several years. He finally reached the World Series with the Cubs in 1935, hitting .333 in a losing cause. As his numbers slowly crashed back to earth, he was reunited with his former team on more than one occasion. Added to the Philly coaching staff in 1941, he also logged a significant amount of playing time. Those who remembered the “Hoosier Hammer” in his prime were sorely disappointed.

On virtually any other club, Klein would have been benched indefinitely, but difficult times called for drastic measures. From April 20 to June 28, the fading superstar went hitless in fourteen consecutive appearances. He played in 50 games altogether, mostly as a pinch hitter, managing just 9 hits in 84 trips to the plate. He came to bat sporadically over the next three seasons, adding just 4 more safeties to his career totals. He once credited his success as a player to the fact that he considered the game to be “fun.” But the years after baseball were not so amusing, as he succumbed to chronic alcoholism, eventually losing the use of one leg. He died of a cerebral hemorrhage in 1958 and was posthumously elected to the Hall of Fame. He remains one of the more obscure baseball greats.

Going Down Swinging

Commenting on the Phillies’ ability to draw more than 241,000 fans to Shibe Park in 1941, Rich Wescott and Frank Bilovsky (authors of The Phillies Encyclopedia) alluded to P. T. Barnum’s famous statement that, “there’s a sucker born every minute.” It’s difficult to challenge the validity of those words considering that the club was already more than 17 games out of first place by the end of May and would go 28 innings without scoring a run at one point. But despite their adeptness at landing outside the “win” column, Doc Prothro’s Phillies played hard—hard enough to split numerous doubleheaders and send 16 games into extra innings. In fact, many who encountered them came away scraped and battered.

During his rookie season of 1940, Dodger center fielder Pete Reiser feasted upon Philly pitching with a .375 average and 7 extra-base hits in 11 games. Picking up right where he left off, he singled and scored in his first at bat against the Phillies in April 1941. When Reiser came to the plate again a couple of innings later, sidearmer Ike Pearson retaliated with a brushback pitch. Unfortunately, the offering struck Reiser on the cheek, sending him to the hospital. Reiser might have been seriously injured had he not been wearing an innovative new cap liner being distributed by the Spalding Company. He was out of action for nearly a week but returned to pummel Philly pitching at a .459 clip.

Staging a fifth-inning rally against the Cardinals in a May contest at Sportsman’s Park, Philadelphia infielder Hal Marnie plowed into rookie catcher Walker Cooper, knocking him senseless. Marnie scored on the play and was left uninjured as Cooper writhed in pain with a fractured scapula and dislocated collar bone. He was lost until mid-July. Cooper’s injury was avenged that day as the Cardinals scored in the bottom of the ninth, walking away with a dramatic 6–5 victory.

Even the bleachers were a dangerous place to be on September 20, as more than 17,000 fans turned out to see the first-place Dodgers play an important doubleheader against the humble Phillies. Southpaw Lefty Hoerst held Brooklyn to just 4 hits in the opener, but Whit Wyatt was equally impressive on the mound for the Flatbush crew, scratching out a 3–2 win. Trailing 3–0 in the nightcap, Philly catcher Bennie Warren victimized his former battery mate Kirby Higbe with a towering homer. There would be no celebrating as the ball struck a fan named Frank Sapczynski on the head, knocking him unconscious. He was rushed to the hospital by ambulance as the Phillies lost handily, 6–1.

It’s a Jungle out There

Doc Prothro tried everything once, from brushbacks to pickoffs to double steals. By the end of the All-Star break, the Phillies had already compiled three six-game losing streaks and were about to add a nine-game skid to their list of negative achievements. The deficit areas were numerous. Offensively, the club had trouble against left-handed pitching, grounded into far too many double plays, and consistently failed to get leadoff batters on base. Magnifying these problems, the pitching staff issued more hits, walks, and wild pitches than any staff in the league. By early August, Prothro realized that he needed help. He took a brief leave of absence to scout the minor leagues. The besieged skipper visited various clubs within the Southern Association and Cotton State League. He came back empty-handed and pessimistic.

As so often happens with last-place teams, rumors surfaced regarding a managerial change. In July, the Sporting News published an article stating that Prothro was considering resigning as manager to take over the Memphis minor league club he owned stock in. Furthering speculation, United Press writer Harry Ferguson penned a commentary on the subject of managers unjustly serving as scapegoats. Prothro was prominently featured in the piece, which was entitled, “Bang! Bang! Manager Shooting Season On.”

Another rumor swirling around Philadelphia was the suggestion that the team might be sold. In September, a syndicate headed by National Physical Education director John B. Kelly (a former world champion oarsman) offered Gerry Nugent $500,000 for the sickly franchise. The story appeared in various publications, but Nugent downplayed its significance, commenting that he wanted to see his “sprouts turn into blooms” before arriving at a decision. In the end, he passed on the low-ball offer.

A Bumpy Ride

Overall, the season had its highs and lows, with the lows occurring far more frequently. Right-hander Tommy Hughes gave fans reason to be optimistic when he turned in four quality starts and a relief win in his first nine assignments. This included a dazzling one-hit performance against the Cubs and a three-hitter versus the Reds. Looking for any excuse to fill the seats, the Phillies sponsored a “Tommy Hughes Day” on June 8. The rookie hurler took the mound before a relatively sparse crowd and pitched efficiently until the eighth inning, when the Pirates tagged him for 2 runs to take a 3–1 lead. Instead of letting Hughes off the hook with his dignity intact, Doc Prothro sent the tiring youngster back out to face the heart of the Pittsburgh order. The result was disappointing, as he completely fell apart. By the time reliever Roy Bruner got the last two outs, the Bucs had plated 9 runs in the inning, securing a 12–2 victory and spoiling Hughes’s coming out party.

It was the Phillies who had played the role of the spoiler two days earlier, when the Reds sent strikeout specialist Johnny Vander Meer to the hill at Shibe Park. Vander Meer had gained lasting fame when he pitched back-to-back no-hitters in 1938, but he struggled with his control over the next two seasons. By June 1941, he was returning to top form. In the second inning, Philly outfielder Danny Litwhiler tapped a routine grounder to shortstop Eddie Joost, who juggled it and threw late to first. It was ruled a hit by a highly generous official scorer, and the incident seemed insignificant until Vander Meer had retired the next twenty-three batters, narrowly missing his third career no-hitter.

It would not be the last time Protho’s crew dampened the hopes of a first division opponent. On August 1, the Cardinals were nursing a tenuous two-game lead over the Dodgers. With the lowly Phillies rolling into Sportsman’s Park, they anticipated a relatively easy day at the office. They were sorely mistaken, as former Cardinal Si Johnson battled Philly cast off Bill Crouch in a pitching duel that remained scoreless after 7 frames. The Phillies broke through for a run in the eighth, but St. Louis knotted the score in the last of the ninth on a 2-out single by Enos Slaughter. Cardinal manager Billy Southworth wanted this one badly, and, in the eleventh inning, he handed the ball to his ace Lon Warneke. In an unexpected turn of events, catcher Bennie Warren silenced the crowd of 20,000 with a clutch solo homer. Johnson finished out the bottom of the frame, earning a well-deserved 2–1 decision.

Even after a shining victory, the Phillies could not escape derision from the media. The following day, the Associated Press likened the club to a “new species” of mosquitoes. The Quaker City crew would also be referred to as “tail enders,” “doormats,” and “lackeys” by various writers at different points in the season. The campaign mercifully came to an end on September 28, with an anticlimactic loss to the Dodgers at Ebbets Field. By that point, the Phillies had drifted 57 games out of first place, while setting a franchise record for losses.

End of an Era

With three losing seasons behind him, Doc Prothro announced his intention of taking the job in Memphis. Gerry Nugent was in support of the decision, absolving Prothro of any blame for the club’s lackluster performance. Hans Lobert was installed as manager, and the club fared no better in 1942, losing 109 games. When Nugent announced plans to get rid of his top three players in the offseason, NL officials intervened. With a lien on his assets, the drowning executive was forced to sell the Phillies for $850,000.

NL president Ford Frick immediately put the team up for resale. John B. Kelly made another offer, but his bid was trumped by lumber baron William Cox. With veteran skipper Bucky Harris at the controls, the team jumped out to a sluggish 39–51 start in 1943. Intolerant and meddlesome, Cox fired Harris at a press conference without offering advance notice. Incensed by Cox’s actions, players threatened to strike. Harris talked them out of it and then called several writers to his hotel, where he openly accused Cox of betting on the Phillies. Commissioner Mountain Landis, who had presided over the White Sox scandal of 1919, launched a full investigation. Cox admitted to having made “sentimental” bets but maintained that he did not know it was a violation of existing rules. He was banned from baseball for life after less than a year of ownership.

With Cox out of the way, industrialist Robert Carpenter purchased the club, leaving day-to-day control of the team to his son. The new owners patiently developed and retained talented young prospects. Among the players to blossom into superstars were center fielder Richie Ashburn and pitcher Robin Roberts, both of whom eventually gained entry into baseball’s hallowed Hall. The youthful gang referred to in the Philadelphia press as “The Whiz Kids” unseated the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1950 as NL champions. It would be the club’s last World Series appearance until 1980.

Bright Spots of 1941

Nick Etten

The A’s gave up too early on the twenty-five-year-old Nick Etten in 1939, selling him to Baltimore of the International League after using him in just 65 games over a two-year span. Originally a product of Villanova University, he tore up the minors in 1940 with a .321 average and 68 extra-base hits. Over the next six seasons, he led the AL in homers, RBIs, and walks once apiece, while receiving MVP consideration on four occasions. In his Philly debut of 1941, he attained career-high marks in batting average (.311), on-base percentage (.405), and hits (168). One weak spot was his notoriously apathetic defense. Teammate Danny Murtaugh once criticized Etten for making little attempt to cover the gap between first and second base. Etten challenged Murtaugh’s hitting skills and offered to collect enough RBIs for the both of them. The lefty-swinging first sacker went 4-for-4 on opening day of the 1941 campaign and held the NL batting lead for an extended period during August. Traded to the Yankees in 1943, he earned a championship ring while hitting a paltry .105 in the World Series against the Cardinals. He remained productive in the minors after leaving the Big Show in 1947. He hit 43 homers and drove in 155 runs for the Oakland Oaks in 1948.

Danny Litwhiler

This solidly built outfielder was injured more than once in minor league play, delaying his big league arrival. He hit .369 at the Class D level prior to joining the Phillies. In 1940, Litwhiler showed he was ready for prime time, assembling a 21-game hitting streak from September 1 through September 16. He went 0-for-4 the following day and then rattled off another six-game skein. In his first full season of 1941, he was arguably the team’s most productive player, leading the squad in five major offensive categories, including doubles (29) and homers (18). He committed an ungainly total of 15 errors but topped the circuit in putouts. Honing his craft, he posted the highest fielding percentage among NL outfielders for two straight seasons, establishing a record in 1942 with no miscues while playing full-time. The destitute Phillies used him as trade bait in 1943, dishing him to the Cardinals for three players. Slowed by chronic knee problems, he never appeared in more than 119 games after 1944. Life after the major leagues was just as eventful for Litwhiler, as he devoted his time to improving the game of baseball. In all, he invented more than 100 items for practical use on the diamond, among them a glove with the fingers tied together—believed to be the first of its kind. In later years, he developed a prototype for the JUGS speed gun and introduced Diamond Grit, an absorbent material used by grounds crews. A long-time college coach, he was elected to the Pennsylvania Sports Hall of Fame. There is also a stadium named after him at Bloomsburg University in Pennsylvania.

Ike Pearson

Ike Pearson came directly to the majors from college ball at the University of Mississippi. He floundered in his first two seasons with the Phillies, going 5–27 with an ERA well above 5.00. He was off to another rough start in 1941, before being converted to a closer. As a starter, he was 0–10 with a 6.65 ERA, staking opponents to a .319 collective batting average. Out of the bull pen, he was a force to be reckoned with, earning 4 wins and 6 saves, while compiling a 2.07 ERA. Those numbers were impressive considering that the Phillies won just 43 games all year. Pearson joined the marines after a somewhat disappointing follow-up in 1942. He served until February 1946 and was out of the majors after the 1948 campaign. He pitched in the American Association through 1951.

Danny Murtaugh

Before his July call-up in 1941, Danny Murtaugh led the Texas League with 106 runs scored. He was hitting at a .317 clip when the Phillies promoted him to replace a platoon of Heinie Mueller and Bill Nagel at second base. He made an immediate impression with his headfirst slides and dazzling glove work. He posted the highest fielding percentage among NL keystone sackers and paced the loop with 18 stolen bases. In addition, his range factor (an average of putouts and assists per game) ranked second in the circuit. He needed work on his hitting, however, posting an anemic .219 average with just 9 extra-base hits in 85 games. Murtaugh spent nine seasons in the majors as a player, enjoying his best offensive year in 1948 with Pittsburgh, hitting .290 and collecting 71 RBIs. He is best remembered as a manager, leading the Pirates to world championships in 1960 and 1971.

Tommy Hughes

While playing semipro ball in Pennsylvania, Tommy Hughes was picked up by Baltimore of the International League. He gradually matured into a hot prospect, and the frugal Phillies out-bid the Red Sox for him before the 1941 campaign. He turned in his best start of the season against Chicago on June 3, flirting with a perfect game for 7 innings before yielding a walk and a hit. He settled for a complete game shutout. The right-hander had a variety of pitches in his arsenal, including a curveball, change-of-pace slider, and sinking fastball. In 1941, he tied for the club lead, with 9 wins. He was also impressive out of the bull pen, with a 1.10 ERA in 10 relief appearances. In 1942, he became the ace of the Philly staff, with 12 wins and a career-best 3.06 ERA. By that point, people were singing his praises. In an interview with wire service writer Sid Feder, several members of the Pirates and Dodgers ranked Hughes as the number one pitcher in the circuit. A major weakness, Hughes struggled with his control throughout his career, which was shortened by a four-year stint in the special services division of the army. He stayed with the Phillies through the 1947 slate and then was traded to Cincinnati for utility man Bert Haas. The 1948 campaign was his last in the majors.

Frightful Phillies

“Boom-Boom” Beck

Sturdily built at 6 feet, 2 inches and 200 pounds, this right-hander had just two winning seasons in the majors. Born Walter William Beck, he is known mainly for his alliterative nickname and the colorful story behind it. While pitching for the Dodgers on July 4 of the 1934 slate, Beck was clinging to a narrow lead and getting hit hard. When Brooklyn skipper Casey Stengel came out to make a pitching change, Beck angrily hurled a baseball against the right field wall of the Baker Bowl. The hard-drinking Hack Wilson was stationed there and, either nursing a hangover or exhausted from chasing so many flies, he was literally napping on his feet. The sound of the ball bouncing off the tin-plated wall startled him back into action. He quickly retrieved the carom and made an accurate throw to the infield. From that point onward, Beck was known to his teammates as “Boom-Boom.” In 1941, the hurler had one of the worst seasons of his career, with a 1–9 record. Opponents accrued a .311 average against him in 7 starting assignments. As a reliever, he gave up 2 or more runs ten times and collected no saves in 14 closing appearances. He bounced up and down from the majors to the minors in his next two seasons before making a comeback with Detroit in 1944. Beck was 6–1 for the Pirates the following year, but at forty years of age, his playing days had reached an end. He piloted three of Pittsburgh’s minor league affiliates and then finished his managerial career with the Tiger organization in 1949. In the late 1950s, he served as Senators’ pitching coach for three seasons.

Bennie Warren

It took this journeyman catcher seven minor league seasons to finally earn a September call-up with the Phillies in 1939. Although Warren possessed a strong arm and occasionally hit in the clutch, he struggled with other aspects of his game. During his brief big-league career, he led the league in errors, passed balls, and stolen bases allowed. In 1941, he fielded his position poorly and hit at a substandard .214 pace. After a .209 showing the following year, he spent three years in the navy. A comeback attempt was largely unsuccessful. Warren managed in the Sooner State League for five seasons after leaving the Big Show in 1947. Two of his minor league squads finished in first place.

Johnny Rizzo

At one point in his career, Johnny Rizzo had been heralded as the top outfield prospect in the Pirates organization, slamming a franchise-record 23 homers (since broken) and gathering 111 RBIs in his rookie season of 1938, but he proved to be little more than a flash in the pan. After a disappointing sophomore campaign, he was traded twice in 1940, finishing among the top thirty in MVP voting with a solid effort (.283/24 HR/72 RBIs). Expectations were high for the 1941 slate, but to the immense disappointment of fans and management, he suffered a 66-point drop in his batting average. He also lost his power stroke, gathering just 15 extra-base hits. As his average hovered below the .200 mark into June, he was platooned with the inexperienced Stan Benjamin in right field. Rizzo was used sparingly in 1942, and his numbers scarcely improved. In 1943, he was drafted into the navy and never returned to major league action.

Lefty Hoerst

A basketball star at LaSalle University before joining the Phillies, Lefty Hoerst may have chosen the wrong profession. He appeared briefly on the 1940 roster but was assigned to Pensacola of the Southeastern League after proving ineffective as a closer. He ran up a 16–7 record with a stingy 2.56 ERA in Class B ball and then returned to the majors in 1941. He served as a swingman, making 11 starts while relieving in 26 contests. Deficient in both roles, his 5.20 ERA and 3–10 record did nothing to enhance the club’s fortunes. His 4 errors were second most among NL pitchers, and he failed to help his own cause with a bat, managing just 4 singles in 26 plate appearances. One bright spot: He was inexplicably effective against Brooklyn, holding the club to a .185 batting average in six games. Two of his 3 victories in 1941 came against the New Yorkers, earning him the nickname of “Dodger Killer.” When his playing career ended, Hoerst coached baseball at LaSalle University and worked as a basketball referee at the high school, college, and NBA levels. He once joked that he was the worst pitcher he ever saw.

Si Johnson

Si Johnson was no stranger to losing, leading the league twice in that category while averaging 17 defeats per year with Cincinnati from 1931 through 1935. He had decent control but allowed more hits than innings pitched in all but one of his fifteen full seasons in the majors. The bases were quite busy for him in 1941, as he accrued a WHIP average of 1.59—far above the league norm. In starts, he was 5–10 with a 4.66 ERA. He was charged with 2 additional losses in relief. The right-hander stayed in Philadelphia until April 1946, losing more than two years to military service during World War II. Signed by the Braves, he compiled a 12–13 record, working mostly out of the bull pen. He made his final appearance in 1947.