4

A HUMBLED BATTING CHAMPION

Following a season of misfortune from top to bottom, business manager Frank J. Navin was in a precarious position. He represented shareholders in the day-to-day operations of the club, and, in need of results, immersed himself in retooling the Detroit Tigers. Born in Adrian, Michigan, southwest of Detroit, Navin was a clerk in the insurance office of S. F. Angus before the latter bought a stake in the Tigers.1 He took a predominant leadership role in the team and basically learned the baseball business from the ground up. In his current situation, the thirty-five-year-old was grasping for whatever positives he could muster from the misery he’d just experienced. He knew there were many capable players in the fold, and if led by the right manager, they could be a first-rate franchise.

Hugh Jennings was a known comedian in baseball circles. He wasn’t the practical disciplinarian some might have felt the Tigers needed, but Jennings, a manager of the old-school, was also not a pushover. H. G. Merrill of The Sporting News wrote that, in comparison to the lackadaisical days of Bill Armour, the “laddybucks” of the Tigers would “find things different when Jennings” assumed control. He concluded by adding, “Jennings will have no dissention in the ranks.”2 But no one really expected all personalities to be streamlined and magically happy once Jennings arrived at the clubhouse. There were rocky days ahead, and this would have been the case regardless of who Navin brought in as manager.

At the tail end of the 1906 season, Jennings spied a couple Detroit games so he could formulate a direct impression of the team. His overall opinion agreed with Navin: the Tigers had winning stock, but direly needed to repair a weakness at first base. Jennings initially wanted Michigan product John Ganzel to play first for Detroit in 1907. However, Ganzel signed with the Cincinnati Reds.3 There was also a feeding frenzy for first baseman Jake Stahl, the playing-manager for the Washington Senators, who was on the market. Detroit, at different points, was one of the top contenders to land him.4 Stahl, incidentally, sat out of Organized Baseball in 1907 because he wanted to play for Boston, but Washington owners dealt him to Chicago instead. Trade considerations were made—particularly with Matty McIntyre—but in none of the proposals did Jennings find a deal giving the Tigers comparable talent.5 Reportedly, a team from the eastern circuit wanted to give Detroit $10,000 for McIntyre, but Jennings and Navin preferred a trade for players.6 A swap between Detroit and Cleveland was also heavily discussed by sportswriters and the names McIntyre, Fred Payne, and Ty Cobb were, in one way or another, rumored to be involved in a transaction for hard-hitting outfielder Elmer Flick.7 Flick was at odds with his manager in Cleveland, Nap Lajoie, but was coming off one of the best seasons of his career, batting .311 with 194 hits and 98 runs.8 It was clear that neither team wanted to trade unless they were significantly compensated.

While the Flick deal went nowhere, Navin and Jennings continued to haggle with Cleveland owners and managed to score an entirely different player during the annual American League meetings from Chicago in December 1906. The duo purchased Cleveland’s first baseman, Claude Rossman, which added a key element to the club.9 Rossman was said to be the best first baseman available, but, as noted, was not Detroit’s original choice.10 Rossman, albeit slower than many of his contemporaries, was a competent offensive weapon and, time and again, he came through at the plate with runners on the bases. The acquisition of a first baseman, combined with the signing of nearly all members of the Tigers roster for the upcoming season, gave Navin and Jennings great optimism, that is, at least temporarily.

Cobb was mobile during the off season. He spent time at the famous Georgia-Carolina Fair in Augusta in early November and shared stories about his time in big league baseball with old friends.11 The following month he was in Atlanta proudly playing in a special ballgame between a squad of “All-Professionals” against local firemen. His two triples were a feature of the contest, which led the pros to a 6–1 victory.12 Intermixed with his appearances in public, he spent a fair amount of time on the hunt for wild turkeys, and living off the land always seemed to be a surefire boost to his health.13 But he was also taken aback by the bombardment of strange news reports, saying that he was about to be traded to Washington or Chicago. Although he had been guaranteed a berth with Detroit in 1907, he could not help wonder what the truth actually was. The erroneous reports, originating from New York, also claimed that Detroit was going to get rid of Crawford and McIntyre as well, leaving Jennings to start with a fresh squad of Tigers.14

With a $900 raise over the previous season, Cobb was content, but broke.15 His strong keenness for financial security was years away, mostly because he hadn’t yet earned enough to save a dime. The plight of young ballplayers in being able to survive a full year on a half year’s worth of pay was always troublesome, and Cobb was still trying to figure it out. In a letter to Navin in Detroit, he inquired about a possible loan to help him get by, but Navin tread lightly on the subject and instead offered to advance him $300 on his future salary, sans interest.16 Cobb accepted the gesture of kindness and, certainly, walked away from the situation with further admiration of Navin as a boss.

Sportswriters were itching for newsworthy items and soon they learned that, of all members of the Detroit Tigers, Matty McIntyre was the only one not signed for 1907. According to the scuttlebutt, he was peeved about one thing and one thing only: Ty Cobb.17 Of course, what else could it be? The mere existence of Cobb to those bemoaning unsportsmanlike grudges was enough to set off an avalanche of hate, and McIntyre apparently wasn’t ready to give up his petty resentment. Cobb, on the other hand, wanted to start anew. He was ready to mend fences with McIntyre, but he had to be met, at least, halfway.18

That being said, Cobb remembered how the last season ended. The fight with Ed Siever was fresh in his mind, and he knew his actions didn’t earn him any new friends on the team. If anything, it might have garnered him respect as a fighter, but as a cooperative colleague and bosom buddy, the scrap worked against the image he might have wanted to convey. He was acutely aware of potential blowback heading into spring training and was more hypersensitive than ever before.

The role of peacemaker fell to Jennings. Bridging the gaps between strained relations, altering the perceptions, and getting guys to dismiss their already formed judgments seemed to be a nearly impossible feat. Cobb, on the other hand, wasn’t instinctively going to trust Jennings either. With the track record Armour put up, essentially failing to expunge team dissidents when not only Cobb’s well-being was on the line, but for the sake of the entire club, it didn’t bode well for anyone else. All things considered, Cobb had seen only small glimpses of niceties in his brief pro experience, and he remembered each and every one of them.19 For instance, he was humbled by the invitation tendered by forty-year-old veteran Bobby Lowe to go to dinner with him and his wife, and took to heart the words of encouragement by right-hander Bill Donovan.20 In his autobiography, Cobb mentioned befriending twenty-two-year-old pitching newcomer Ed Willett of Norfolk, Virginia, who was soon convinced by the McIntyre clique to turn his back on Cobb.21

Second baseman William Herman “Germany” Schaefer was also willing to tutor Cobb on occasion. Part of a middle infield combination with shortstop and fellow Chicagoan Charley O’Leary, Schaefer was one of baseball’s top personalities.22 He was a fun-loving entertainer at his core, yet was not amused by the miserable way in which the Georgian was treated. Some years later, he revealed that he specifically taught Cobb the “old Chicago slide” during this time frame, encompassing a maneuver that saw the runner’s body “twisting away” from the fielder, and reaching the base by hooking his foot. Schaefer was the closest Cobb had to a George Leidy on the Tigers.23 Schaefer’s lessons were of great value, and he would undoubtedly play a considerable role in Detroit’s 1907 campaign, both as an amusing stress distraction and as a leader.24

Having heard enough stories about the rampant chaos in the clubhouse, Jennings knew he needed a different approach than Armour, and his efforts to revamp the Tigers’ den began upon arriving in Augusta for spring training. He established a distinct training regimen with an emphasis on running and long walks, scrutinized rookies, and made personal time to talk one-on-one with his personnel. After Cobb arrived, Jennings spent an hour with him, discussing past happenings and future expectations, and bestowing what the Detroit Free Press called “fatherly advice.”25 The meeting was constructive and Jennings must have been convinced that he successfully “reached” Cobb, touching the young man’s sensibilities and setting a course for a widespread boost of team chemistry.

Cobb was valuable; Jennings was well aware of that fact, and he hoped to suppress whatever negativity he was emitting. But unfortunately, within a matter of days, a horrendously unpleasant situation erupted at Warren Park in Augusta and cast serious doubt as to whether such a thing was even possible. On the afternoon of March 16, 1907, Cobb completed his mile walk from the hotel and was prepared to plunge into the normal training activities of the day. However, he was encountered by a somewhat familiar face, Henry Cummings, a twenty-seven-year-old African American groundskeeper, known to the populace as “Bungey,” and a strange altercation ensued.26 The latter seemed to anticipate a reunion with the former Augustan player and reached out his hand in friendliness. Needless to say, Cobb didn’t have the same response.27

Almost exactly a year before, during Tigers’ spring training at Augusta, sportswriter Joe S. Jackson of the Detroit Free Press wrote about the local African American population and made a peculiar comment about Cobb. Several times, Jackson noted, Cobb remarked about the efficiency of “colored” people when prompted by white Southerners in comparison to their Northern counterparts. Cobb reportedly supported the theory that blacks “more readily” heeded the “requests or demands” of Southern white folk, a group which Jackson added, “maintain the old relation of master and man between the races.” Jackson finished by stating that Northerners acknowledged the principles of the Fourteenth Amendment.28

The firsthand account by the scribe shed illuminating light on the mindset of Cobb and his perspective of African Americans. With that understanding, it probably didn’t come as a surprise to those teammates who were cognizant of his racial outlook when Cobb recoiled and punched Cummings in the face in reaction to his hospitality. The unnamed reporter for the Detroit Free Press on the scene suggested that Cobb was infuriated by Cummings’ attempt to be on “equal footing” with a Caucasian, and prompted the player’s reaction. The violence didn’t end there, as Cobb speedily pursued the park worker into the clubhouse, behind the stands beyond third base. There, Cummings’ wife, who also worked at the park, intervened, only to be confronted by Cobb’s reckless aggression. According to accounts, she was assailed and choked. The press report also claimed that Cummings was “partially” inebriated and spoke to Cobb as he went for a handshake, saying, “Hello, Ty, old boy.”29

“I have my opinion of anybody who would strike a woman,” said Charley “Boss” Schmidt, the 5’11”, 200-pound catcher for the Tigers, a witness to the affair.30

Cobb was in no mood for the commentary of any of his teammates, friend or foe. Schmidt hadn’t necessarily been involved in the McIntyre shenanigans of the previous year, but his words struck a chord in the maddening sphere of the young outfielder. His conscious mind didn’t compute the gravity of butting heads with the toughest man on the team, and perhaps in all of major league baseball.31 Physically brawny from years of pushing cars full of coal in Arkansas mines, Schmidt was a ready fighter, and demonstrated his fortitude by playing 68 games in 1906 with a broken bone in his ankle. Bizarrely, sportswriter Fred Lieb chronicled accounts of Cobb “tormenting” Schmidt in his 1946 book, The Detroit Tigers.32 The purposeful provocation of the powerful catcher was unimaginable, basically akin to a death wish, but if Lieb was correct, Cobb was clearly searching for turbulence leading up to the event in question.

That afternoon in Augusta, he certainly found it when he tried to tackle Schmidt for offering his unsolicited remarks. His newfound enemy was all too prepared for fisticuffs and Schmidt successfully landed a blow before their scuffle was called to a halt by onlookers.33 The entire situation couldn’t have been any worse for Jennings and the Tigers, especially when harmony was the cornerstone of their rebuilding process. In the aftermath, Cobb denied choking the woman, telling the press, “I am in the right, and so long as I know that fact, I don’t care what is done or said.”34

Following the altercation, the focus shifted to Cobb’s status with the Tigers and remarks about his fight with Schmidt, but little was said about Cummings or his wife. Cummings remained an employee of Warren Park and an Augusta newspaper declared him the top groundskeeper in the entire south, “known to every player in the Sally circuit.”35 “Bungey” found himself in a bit of trouble only a few months after his run-in with Cobb when he appeared drunk at the home of an Augusta citizen, and uttered foul language in front of the homeowner’s wife. The man claimed Cummings “deserved to be shot,” according to the paper, and the latter was arrested.36

Jennings was justifiably livid and within hours of the calamity was working to rekindle talks with Cleveland to trade Cobb for Elmer Flick. He was no longer hesitant to lose a man of great promise if, and it was a big if, he was able to secure a talent of equal ability. Flick, to Jennings, fit that mark, even though he was already thirty-one years of age and of his four seasons left in the majors, only one of them would be played full-time. Ultimately, the deal was nixed by Cleveland co-owner Charley Somers, who didn’t want the destabilizing influence of Cobb infecting his roster as it had in Detroit. Incidentally, both the Tigers and the Cleveland Naps were in Macon, Georgia, at the same time, seemingly opening the door for trade talks. But Somers put his foot down and there was no room to negotiate.37 New York Highlander manager Clark Griffith also proposed a Cobb-Frank Delahanty deal, but Jennings laughed it off as a “humorous effort.”38 In regard to the possible trade to New York in 1907, Cobb talked about two benefits, stronger press and being away from owner Frank Navin.39

Back in the Tigers clubhouse, a state of uncertainty reigned. Cobb and Schmidt were said to be at peace, but the way Cobb eluded teammates exhibited anything but tranquility for the Detroit franchise. He walked alone, purposefully scheduled meals so he’d be segregated from the others, and was quieter than normal. Sportswriters didn’t help matters by saying that Cobb was essentially friendless on the team. But Cobb relied on his personal allies in Augusta, people he trusted, and he withdrew further to be with them when not on the field.40

Cobb was feeling the pinch, and sincerely mulled jumping his contract.41 Despite his impulsive anger problems and a developing propensity for violence, he was conscientious and remained with the team. He was, however, determined to get answers from Jennings about what exactly was being done to ship him elsewhere. Jennings told him that he believed Cobb’s fate rested in New York, but again, a trade was not finalized because Detroit felt the offerings were uneven.42

Indicative of his mind-state and perhaps doing a little trade encouragement of his own, Cobb neglected orders during an exhibition versus Augusta, refusing to bunt when told, and received a “severe reprimand” from Jennings as a result. The reporter acknowledged that Cobb “played well,” having a triple, a sacrifice, and a stolen base, but was rather indifferent. Cobb’s “insubordination” was big news.43 Things remained status quo as the Tigers departed camp and ventured to Meridian, Mississippi, for a game versus the local White Ribbons squad of the Cotton States League. The departure from Georgia worked in Jennings’ favor, as he wanted to break Cobb free from his friends and get him back circulating with teammates. But one of Cobb’s pals in Atlanta erred when he told a writer how Cobb could win a fight against any member of the Tigers, including Schmidt.44 The brawling catcher, as expected, heard the story.

That little yarn helped instigate the second Cobb-Schmidt battle, and the clay field of Meridian was the location of the clash. Jennings explained it another way. He said Schmidt harbored bitterness toward Cobb stemming from the first fight and wanted to continue the struggle once the team left Georgia.45 Through the decades since the fight, there have been about a dozen or more accounts of what occurred, and the most common characteristic of all versions was that Schmidt won easily. The specific details of how it started and who did what varied from story to story. Cobb personally claimed he was sucker-punched, caught completely off guard, and suffered a broken nose by the opening blow.46 Third baseman Bill Coughlin disagreed. He said that Cobb and Schmidt consented to go out to the park and fight one morning to clear the air.47 Either way, the result was the same.

That winter, The Sporting News gave space for player quotes and Cobb made the paper on April 6, 1907, delivering some interesting insights. “The fact that I am a southern man has never made any difference in the way I have been treated by the public in the north. The fans all over the American League have always been kind to me. In Detroit, I feel that I have many friends among the fans, and they have treated me with the greatest consideration. I like them and I want them to like me. I always do my best when it comes to playing ball and just as long as I am in the game, intend to continue to do so. The Detroit club [pays] me to play ball, the very best I know how, and I am not going to disappoint the management.”48

Jennings had been impressive as a manager all spring, encouraging his men to the utmost degree and earning high praise from the lowliest recruit up to the grayest veteran. But nothing he did compared to the magic he pulled the evening of the second Cobb-Schmidt battle in Meridian. It was there, at a team meeting shortly after dinner, that he established himself as the rarest of baseball reconcilers. The night of the famous Meridian meeting, Jennings asked four of his veterans, Coughlin, Donovan, Schaefer, and O’Leary to take Cobb out on the town to illustrate to the young outfielder the new team unity and kinship of the Tigers.49 Instead of giving the men a hard time, lashing out with threats of suspensions, he motivated them with a range of captivating stories, fueling notions of teamwork and camaraderie. “From that day on, there was a change in the ranks of the Tigers,” one player explained. “The fellows woke up to what harmony meant.” In unison, the athletes agreed to watch out for each other in a unified fight for one goal: the American League pennant.50

For Cobb, he too experienced a metamorphosis. By standing tall against the mighty oak, Charley “Boss” Schmidt, he added to his growing reputation and gained a striking amount of confidence. His relations amongst teammates improved steadily, and although the Tigers would never be completely stable behind the scenes, Cobb demonstrated a willingness to conform as much as he could. “Perhaps [the second encounter versus Schmidt] was the best thing that could have happened to Ty,” Coughlin explained. “He was getting a bit cocky and I have always thought the scrap with Schmidt helped to make a great ball player out of him.”51

Bidding farewell to spring training with an exhibition record of 14–0–1, the Tigers were remarkably healthy. Cobb had developed a “severe cold” and was hampered by a back problem, but he kept playing despite being told to sit it out.52 Matty McIntyre was back in the fold in time for opening day versus Cleveland on April 11, 1907, and Jennings wisely arranged his outfield and lineup to keep him separated from Cobb. McIntyre would lead off and play left field, Sam Crawford was in the third slot and in center, and Cobb batted fourth and manned the right side. In the position following Cobb was new first baseman Claude Rossman and his role, as it affected Cobb, was far more important than anyone else on the team. Rossman was a sure hitter and a man of excellent bunting skills. Cobb would rely greatly upon his ability to sacrifice him over, and the cunning tactic was displayed in that first game against Cleveland in a 2–0 victory. Cobb scored both Detroit runs and would have had a third, but was thrown out at the plate in the sixth inning.53

The stories of continued infighting and disorder caused many baseball observers to write Detroit off from the start, but pundits were in for a major shock. The vibrant cohesion of the Tigers was palpable, and Jennings had successfully turned a rag-tag mess of malcontents into a competitive force of nature. Players were aggressive, hustling for every ball and digging for base hits, and showing an energetic willingness to exert themselves unlike in previous years.54 On the sidelines, Jennings provoked increased intensity by his constant running, flailing, and commentary. He’d whistle and shout catchphrases in support of his men, while at the same time unnerving rivals. Fans were often thoroughly entertained by his riotous skit in the coach’s box, and it didn’t matter if he was standing on one leg or using noise makers to garner a reaction.

A marked improvement in teamwork was noticeable as well. Communication in the field was fluid and persistently helpful in snagging flies and routing throws. The cooperation was beneficial to Cobb and his adequate defense brightened sharply. Against New York on May 14, he made a diving snag of Frank LaPorte’s liner in what a reporter dubbed, the “greatest catch of the season” to date.55 Weeks later, at New York, Cobb was unable to repeat the performance against LaPorte, and committed an error when he dropped the latter’s fly in a 9–3 loss on June 10.56 Sporadic errors were an expected part of baseball, and some were more costly than others. Cobb was specifically troubled by roped off sections necessitated because of overflow crowds, and every now and then, he crossed signals with Crawford.57 During the first road trip east, Cobb put his best foot forward and appeared to be a master fielder. He robbed extra bases with regularity and made a number of bullet throws to double up runners. Cobb would end the season with 30 assists, which led all outfielders.

McIntyre was playing his usual high level of ball but, twenty games into the season, went out with a broken ankle and wouldn’t return. B. F. Wright, after McIntyre went down, wrote that there wasn’t a player on the Detroit roster who could “come within a mile of filling Matty’s place.”58 Davy Jones went to left and overall, the adjustment didn’t significantly weaken the club on offense or defense. Batting .316 by the middle of June, Crawford was at his best and Cobb complemented his work by adding the only other .300-plus average to the roster, earning a percentage of .305 with over 50 hits. As a team, the Tigers set an impressive American League record by scoring nine runs in the fifth inning against the Highlanders on June 11, and then doing the same thing in the second inning the follow day. Detroit won the first game, 10–2, and then the second 16–4. It was an awesome expression of power and Detroit’s third place standing was due to the work of the entire team, not just a couple notable stars.

Cobb’s growth as a daring base-runner was more defined in 1907. He perfected the trick of dashing from first to third on sacrifice bunts and took it a step further by going from first to home on the base hits of teammates placed in front of outfielders. Human nature was human nature, he understood, and was a great believer in the mathematical probabilities of errant actions during a heated situation on the paths. So he worked to instigate them by giving the defense added pressure by teasing steals and constantly causing a distraction. Cobb was eagle-eyed about what was happening around him, and in response to the success he was having, many oppositional players were becoming incensed by his so-called unorthodox tactics.

A manifestation of frustrations emerged in the second inning against Cleveland on June 29, when Cobb refused to halt at third to accept a triple and stampeded home against catcher Harry Bemis. Bemis, who had the ball in advance of Cobb’s arrival, obstructed the plate and waited for what he anticipated to be an easy out.59 Cobb had other ideas. He never stopped running and propelled himself, headfirst, slamming his right shoulder into the backstop, forcing Bemis to drop the ball. The run scored and Bemis immediately became irate, punching the immobilized Cobb several times in his head. Cobb was never able to hit his rival back. Al Stump, in his 1994 biography Cobb, wrote that no members of the Detroit team went out to help Cobb when he was being pummeled by Bemis. This statement portrays Cobb as being completely exiled from his teammates, practically hated. But players from both benches rushed to the scene, and Davy Jones was the first man from the Tigers to help Cobb. The press specifically mentioned how quickly he managed to grab Bemis. Crawford and Jennings were also on the scene within seconds.60 Aside from an exchange of words and Bemis being dismissed from the game, nothing more in the way of violence occurred.

Cobb instead let his play do the talking. In the sixth inning, he capped a 4-for-5 showing with a dramatic steal of home, the first time he’d ever accomplished the deed in the majors.61 Nonetheless, the Bemis event was the major story. Cleveland sportswriter Ed Bang said Bemis “could scarcely be blamed” for reacting the way he did because Cobb endangered him physically, and that he was “not even reprimanded,” while Bemis earned a $25 fine. He called it “unnecessary roughness,” and the notion that Cobb was reckless to the point of being willing to injure opponents was essentially born.62 But however the Bemis situation was viewed, Cobb did not play illegally. He was well within his right to charge the catcher in such a manner.

July was a month of achievement and quick deterioration for Cobb. On one end, he became the first American Leaguer to score 100 hits and, as a reward for the latter accomplishment, admirers gave him a special diamond watch fob.63 Within the next week, he slumped at bat, and reporters were compelled to comment on his lack of production.64 As Detroit ventured back east, Cobb rebounded, and was the star of the series at Boston and New York. He was so thoroughly determined against the Highlanders on July 30, that the reporter felt he was “trying to beat another team single-handed.” Cobb went 4-for-5 and impressed fans as a hitter, runner, and fielder in a 6–1 victory over New York.65 A few days later, he was confronted by a nineteen-year-old right-hander for Washington named Walter Johnson, making his major league debut.

Johnson would undoubtedly be Cobb’s nemesis for years and develop arguably into baseball’s greatest pitcher. In 1907, he was a fresh-faced rookie from the ball diamonds of Idaho. Little did many people know that the Tigers were given an early opportunity to sign the 6’1” pitching prodigy, but Frank Navin overlooked the hype and an inside tip and blew it.66 On August 2, 1907, Johnson trotted out for the Senators and was mighty impressive against the Tigers, flashing exceptional speed. Cobb and his mates relied on bunts and speed until Crawford could stand no more, powering out a homer in the eighth. Detroit won the game, 3–2.67 Cobb admitted that Johnson, in that game, was the “most threatening sight” he ever witnessed on the playing field.68 Johnson would end the season 5–9, but would win 412 more before his career was through. Cobb and Johnson had a contentious rivalry, but had mutual respect. That didn’t stop Cobb from trying to intimidate the passive pitcher. Early in their combat, he told Johnson that if he ever got in his way while he was trying to beat out a bunt, there would be serious trouble. Johnson smartly replied, “I feel it is only fair to warn you my control is a little off today.”69

As the pennant race entered the final two months, all the excitement mainly surrounded the two front-runners, Detroit and Philadelphia. The heat was turned up after the Tigers slid into first place during the first week of August and continued when Jennings and his men arrived at the doorstep of Connie Mack’s Athletics on August 7. The following afternoon, the two teams battled in a scrappy contest, and Cobb figured into a collision with catcher “Doc” Powers. Words were exchanged, enticing the already raucous audience. The next time at bat, Cobb doubled and was involved in more physicality with shortstop Simon Nicholls, although no violence broke out. Nicholls toppled onto him at the base and his spikes tore Cobb’s garb, which needed safety pins to mend. The crowd was riled beyond belief, and Cobb was the perceived rowdy causing their fury.70

Philadelphia, it is important to observe, had a principal provocateur in Horace S. Fogel, sports editor of the Evening Telegraph. Fogel was also a columnist for The Sporting News and his loaded commentary was read high and low in the baseball community. His contribution to the sportsmanship of the Tigers-Athletics rivalry was to refer to the work of Jennings as “hoodlum coaching” and cited Cobb as a “dirty” player who purposefully tried to maim Powers. He further agitated things by claiming to have heard a report stating that Detroit players wanted to get their hands on him personally, as in to harm him.71 Responding to the outrageous remarks, Detroit sportswriters tended to believe the words were being used as a way to inflame tempers amongst the public in Philadelphia against the Tigers. It was psychological warfare, and Fogel was doing his part in effort to sidetrack Detroit.

B. F. Wright hammered back, giving Cobb and his mates a prominent voice in the feud. He declared Fogel’s charges to be “partisan hearsay,” and clearly defended Cobb against accusations of immoral behavior on the field, specifically in the Bemis case. He explained that Cobb went in head first, not spikes first, and reiterated the right of way of a base-runner.72 In the meantime, Cobb was relentless against Philadelphia. On August 8, he sprinted from first to third on a Rossman bunt, and then proceeded home on a wild throw.73 In another game on August 14, he batted a hit off each of four Athletics pitchers, Rube Waddell, Jimmy Dygert, Bill Bartley, and Jack Coombs, in a 9–2 victory.74 His high octane efforts were exceedingly distinguishable and the press corps across the American League circuit marveled at his abilities.

As could be expected, Cobb’s body suffered from the frequency of his slides, which often occurred numerous times a game. Bruises were plentiful along his sides and legs and open wounds were not an uncommon occurrence. Cobb occasionally wore sliding pads, but felt they slowed him down. He played through the pain, and his awe-inspiring quickness didn’t seem to miss much of a step. On September 3, 1907, in Chicago, he blazed a path around the bases for an inside the park home run, the first ever at South Side Park, and a feat some baseball authorities deemed impossible because of the “dead” qualities of the South Side Field.75 The agony of a sliced right hand, cut by shards of broken bottles when he accidentally fell in the overflow section of a crowd, also tested his resolve.76 It got so bad that at one juncture he was unable to grip a bat.

Detroit and Philadelphia flipped the first and second positions in the hunt for the league championship, and Fogel unflinchingly declared the Tigers out of contention.77 Jennings and his players did stumble, but managed to keep pace headed into the most important road trip of the year. The Tigers were revved up, and after finishing a three-game sweep of Boston, the Tigers returned to Philadelphia on September 27 and beat their foes 5–4 before 18,000 fans. A contest the next day, Saturday, was washed out, leaving both teams to stew for the remainder of the weekend since Sunday games were outlawed in the state. Anticipation was great and, prior to the 2 p.m. game time for the first of a doubleheader on Monday, September 30, more than 25,000 spectators were fixated on the Columbia Park field.78

Cobb and the Tigers lined up against pitcher Jimmy Dygert, and later both Rube Waddell and Eddie Plank, in what would ultimately be a singular, 17-inning battle. The lone game was an instant classic, featuring a heroic comeback by the Tigers after being down 7–1, a homer by Cobb in the ninth to tie the score, and a masterful pitching exhibition by “Wild” Bill Donovan. Additionally, there were fisticuffs as Rossman battled both Monte Cross and Waddell, and was subsequently arrested, and a called interference on a play Crawford was trying to make that could have given the Athletics the game. Connie Mack wildly protested the decision of umpires Silk O’Loughlin and Tommy Connolly, but there was little he could do other than complain. As darkness came over the stadium, the battle was called and the result was a 9–9 tie.79

The game was classified by Cobb as his “greatest diamond thrill” and he described the conflict in detail in The Sporting News.80 Cobb named Donovan, who went the distance for the Tigers, the star of the fracas. Bill Coughlin offered comments about the battle and noted that Detroit players didn’t dress at the stadium after the game, but went straight to the hotel. En route through rowdy fans, he was punched in the face by a spectator.81 When Cobb returned to the hotel, he fell fast asleep, still wearing his uniform.

The pennant was within reach, but a few games yet remained. Eighth place Washington was next for the Tigers, and on October 3, Cobb performed dramatically in the nation’s capital, but at the conclusion of the event, his status was again in question. Between the soreness of his legs and his hand injury, he was already less than a hundred percent. Moreover, his vast conditioning was being pushed to its limits. In the sixth inning at Washington, his body physically broke down following a steal of second and third, and then a rundown on the third baseline. His Herculean effort was valorous, but unsuccessful. He crumpled to the dirt feet from home plate and was tagged out. Cobb needed to be aided off the field, and in the eighth, he went to the hotel to recuperate.82 He was in the lineup at St. Louis on October 5 and homered.

Hell-bent on winning the pennant, Detroit won five of its last seven games, including a four-game sweep at Washington, and annexed the American League championship. Around the same time, when the American League gave out its final numbers on the 1907 season, the twenty-year-old Cobb was awarded a .352 batting average. This was roundly disputed, as most pundits had him batting .350 instead, in a statistical tie for “world” title honors against National League batting champion Honus Wagner. Ernest J. Lanigan, a well-respected baseball writer, declared Cobb’s record “a mite the better of Wagner.”83 The dueling honors flooded Detroit with contentment, and it was a fitting culmination to a hectic struggle. Fans at the beginning of the year weren’t exactly convinced they were watching a championship-caliber squad, but they stuck it out, and the numbers increased measurably as the pennant race tightened. By season’s end, people were crowding wire machines all across the city waiting for game results. The Tigers didn’t disappoint, and the enthusiasts were convinced that the National League titleholders, the Chicago Cubs, didn’t stand a chance.

Unfortunately, though, the Cubs had Frank Chance, the renowned first baseman and manager leading its club. Chance led Chicago to an utterly dominant 107–45 record, finishing a full 17 games ahead of second place Pittsburgh. They were imposing adversaries and Detroit was going to need its very best to pull out a winner. But the realities of the exhausting pennant chase were coming to the forefront, and it was impossible to say they were in the greatest of fighting shape. That important, but maybe overlooked, fact was going to prove paramount as the Tigers faced what Cobb called “one of the most amazing teams of all-time.”84

The World Series of 1907 began on October 8 at the West Side ballpark in Chicago. Donovan, the winner of 25 games during the regular season, held the Cubs to three runs in twelve innings of competitive baseball, but the result was a 3–3 stalemate called because of darkness. Cobb was less remarkable, going 0-for-5, but was singled out before the game for his extraordinary performance in the batting championship race. The Chicago audience showered him with appreciation as he was given a special diamond medal, specifically fashioned by Mermod, Jaccard & King, a St. Louis jeweler, and worth about $500, for the occasion. The subsequent afternoon, the Cubs handcuffed the Tigers’ offense and were well guarded against the hit and run, a bread-and-butter play for Detroit. Cobb logged his first hit of the series, but the Cubs were victorious, 3–1.85

The pitching of Orval Overall, Jack Pfiester, and Ed Reulbach, who went to the box for Chicago in the third game, were successful in restraining the powerful Cobb-Crawford combination, and that, to Joe S. Jackson of the Detroit Free Press, was a significant factor in whether the Tigers won or lost all season.86 The duo was not complementing each other, and that was symbolic of the catastrophic failure Detroit was facing. Game three was another lopsided confrontation and the Cubs were winners, 5–1.87 The situation didn’t improve in the fourth and Jackson explained that only three members of the Tigers were playing at their customary speed. Cobb was not one of them. He did manage to triple to center in the fourth inning and later scored, but Chicago held a 6–1 advantage to win.88

The lack of synergy between Cobb and Crawford was never more apparent than in the fourth inning of the fifth game on October 12 at Detroit, when the latter doubled and in dire need of assistance from the league batting kingpin. Cobb’s input in what could have been a major rally was to strike out. Two innings later he hit a two-bagger himself (which was ruled a single and an error) but, in an attempt to pilfer third, was thrown out. Jackson complimented the competitive nature of the game and felt there had been a glimpse of the genuine Tigers, but it still wasn’t enough. The Cubs won 2–0 behind Mordecai Brown and captured the World Series championship in a clean sweep.89 Cobb ended up with four hits in 20 at-bats and a .200 average and no stolen bases. No one was harder on themselves in the defeat than him.

But fans saw it another way. They were overjoyed by the accomplishments of the Tigers in such a tight race, and particularly of their champion batsman. “Who’s the best man in this town?” A coordinated chant asked following the game, “Tyrus Cobb! Tyrus Cobb!” Upwards of six thousand adoring enthusiasts marched through the streets of Detroit following the loss, demonstrating full and hearty support of their league titleholders.90 A special banquet for the Tigers was held at the Cadillac Hotel on October 16 in honor of their splendid work, and a poem by Professor Edward J. Eaton of the Michigan Military Academy, entitled “Ty Cobb at Bat” was read to the audience.91 Cobb made a few humble remarks at the event, declaring the pennant victory a united, team effort.92 The outburst of admiration had to be meaningful to the downcast players, and upon receiving the loser’s share of the purse, an amount of $1,945 and some change, attitudes all around likely brightened. A majority of the squad returned to Chicago to cash in on some additional exhibition games for a little extra money, including Cobb.

The brief barnstorming tour garnered a little positive press for Cobb because of his terrific play, but baseball fans in Chicago were already well aware of his skill.93 His lack of production in the Series was a rare and unique anomaly, and was only going to serve to push Cobb harder. Upon returning to Georgia, he was snagged by a reporter at the State Fair and offered the following comment: “I had a good year in baseball, perhaps the best one that I will ever have.”94 No one could have known at the time, but Cobb’s extraordinary season was not the limit of his abilities. There were plenty of better years ahead.