10

BUTCHERING PENNANT CHANCES

The Detroit Tigers were more than two weeks into a grueling road trip on May 18, 1914, and were capably withstanding each of their challengers to retain first place in the American League. That afternoon, however, they were confronted by twenty-six-year-old George “Rube” Foster, a skilled right-hander from Oklahoma. On the mound for Boston, Foster would later gain fame as a two-game winner in the 1915 World Series, helping the Red Sox overcome the Philadelphia Phillies. But that day in 1914 at Fenway Park, he hurled a scorching fastball into the right side of Ty Cobb, causing a “green-tree fracture” of his sixth rib, meaning that the bone had split.1 Despite difficulties breathing, Cobb resisted the pain enough to engage in a game the next day, going 1-for-2 with an RBI before yielding to his injury. Once a diagnosis was made, it was revealed that he’d be out of the game for at least a week, but really, his recovery required about fifteen days.

In Cobb’s absence, Hugh Jennings utilized Harry Heilmann and Hugh High in center, but the Tigers were cast from their leadership position and endured a five-game losing streak before the Georgian superstar was able to return on June 5. Still not fully healed, Cobb missed added time closer to the middle of the month, and then went 8-for-16 over a four-game period, reasserting himself in the club’s championship drive. During the afternoon of Saturday, June 20, Cobb readied himself in his customary outfield spot and reacted to a sharp liner into right-center off the bat of Washington Senators third baseman Eddie Foster. He lost his footing en route, and the ball managed to eke past him. He then momentarily fumbled it, allowing Foster to round second and head to third on the error.2

Unnerved by his mistakes, Cobb was boiling with intensity and in a poor mood. Things deteriorated even further when a pair of jokesters in the right-field bleachers started riding him, calling him off-color names. Quickly pushed to his limits, he shouted back at his tormentors and let it be known that he was willing to step away from the game to settle their differences. The challenge to his manhood was too much to forgive, and between innings, he ran off the field, caught the two young men under the stands, and dished out a quick pounding.3 While he might have satisfied his immediate craving to square things up with his antagonists, he was still bent far out of shape, and highly volatile. It wasn’t going to take much for him to explode again.

The Cobbs were having a small dinner party at their Longfellow Avenue rental home that evening with Washington manager Clark Griffith as one of their guests.4 Following the game, Cobb arrived home to find Charlie upset about a phone conversation she’d had with a local meat market regarding a batch of spoiled fish. Unhesitatingly, Cobb rushed out the door, his mind clouded by anger, and there was absolutely nothing that could stop his quest for vengeance toward the man who, he felt, had insulted his wife. At least, that was his point of view. William L. Carpenter, proprietor of the Progressive Meat Market, saw the situation differently. He didn’t think he had insulted Mrs. Cobb, but clearly insisted that the fish were fresh when they left his business. He was upset enough to cancel the Cobb account and refuse any future dealings.5

Carpenter, however, never expected Cobb, the famous baseball player he admired, to burst through the doors of his establishment, brandishing a loaded Belgian-made .32 caliber revolver.

“Where’s the man who insulted my wife?” Cobb yelled. According to Carpenter’s version of events, Cobb freely pointed the weapon at him, “glaring like one insane.” Later, Cobb admitted to withdrawing his revolver only after Carpenter grabbed a meat cleaver. No bullets were fired and no blood was shed in the ensuing minutes, as Cobb demanded the butcher call his wife to apologize. In possession of the superior weapon, Cobb’s menacing persuaded Carpenter to make the call, and the ballplayer was sufficiently pleased, ready to pay his bill and leave.6 But Carpenter’s brother-in-law, Howard G. Harding, a tall twenty-year-old assistant in the shop, was not agreeable with anything that was taking place. He openly interfered in the conversation, sharply criticizing Cobb, and the latter responded likewise.7

“I believe you’re a coward,” Harding told Cobb. “Put down your revolver and come out into the street.” Cobb shifted gears again, focusing completely on his new foe, and proceeded to yank Harding out onto the sidewalk. He handed his weapon to a nearby citizen, and then used his size and strength to manhandle his rival.8 Knocking Harding down at least twice and blackening his eye, Cobb was unmatched, and there were likely few people in the area capable of dealing with his ferocity. In contrast, when police arrived and placed Cobb into a wagon headed to the station, he was docile, seemingly awakening to the seriousness of what had occurred.

Each time Cobb experienced a moment of dubiousness, he had been forced to cope with the ramifications, going back to the beginning of his career. In the aftermath of the Fred Collins incident in 1908, the Frank Baker spiking, and, of course, the Lucker situation in New York, he was branded all sorts of ways. He was rowdy, a lunatic, a violent thug out to purposefully maim fellow players, and so on. Cobb immediately knew that his latest scrap was going to hurt him publicly, and told three newspapermen waiting for him at the Bethune Avenue police station, “I’m not going to give you a thing. This isn’t going to appear in the papers. If it does, I’m ruined—ruined—my reputation’s gone. They’ll hoot me off the diamond. I’ll have to forget the American League and go over to the Federals.”9

When advised that he would be better served to tell his side of the story, he thought for a moment, and the Detroit Tribune noted that “with almost childlike simplicity, Cobb’s complete attitude changed.” He consented and gave a full statement.10 But incriminating statements were provided by Carpenter and other witnesses, and there was no way to sugarcoat his behavior. “Cobb acted like a maniac,” Carpenter explained. “He certainly should be restrained until he learns to control himself.” Police commissioner John Gillespie said, “I am surprised, with his temperament, that he has not gotten himself into more trouble.”11

Much like the George Stanfield affair of 1909, the Detroit Tigers and other key friends in high places protected Cobb as the news unfolded. Even though Commissioner Gillespie marveled at Cobb’s rage, he was responsible for clearing the air in terms of his status. The player wasn’t arrested, but detained, and it was surmised that any sort of punishment “would be bad for the city of Detroit.” Gillespie took it a step further by saying that Cobb should never have been brought in to the station at all.12 Tigers’ club secretary Charles Navin dropped everything to race to Cobb’s side and his lawyer James O. Murfin toiled to turn a potential assault case into a simple disturbing the peace charge. Cobb pled guilty and was fined $50.13

“I am sorry that this incident happened,” Cobb told a reporter. “Sorry for myself and anyone of my friends whom it affected. But if the same insult was offered again, I think I should take the same course.”14

Even though Cobb was making every possible effort to move on from the embarrassment, it wasn’t going to be that easy. He suffered a broken thumb in the fight with Harding and the initial assessment was that he was to miss ten days of playing time. The injury proved to be more serious and Cobb was out for over three weeks. He returned to the field at Washington on July 14, but it was obvious he wasn’t yet ready, and his hand went back into a plaster cast. The Tigers fought to remain in second, but the continued absence of Cobb was believed to be the central factor why Detroit was not putting up a better fight for first against the Athletics. The club experienced a painful seven-game losing streak between July 20 and July 27, and fell to fourth in the standings. By that point, they were 11 games out of first.

Finally, Cobb reemerged on the playing roster on August 7, and hit a triple in a 3–1 victory against Boston at Navin Field. A writer for the Detroit Free Press heard no “unkind remarks” toward Cobb in light of his ordeal and said that he was “roundly cheered” by fans.15 Nevertheless, the butcher incident figured heavily into the team’s lack of pennant hopes, and the season was technically over before it really had concluded. But Cobb was always good for some excitement. On August 24 at Washington, he engaged in a “friendly” wrestling match in the clubhouse with Joe Engel of the Senators. The jovial session took a negative turn when Engel suffered a deep cut after being thrust into a locker, and required five stitches.16 Cobb also accidentally wounded the thumb of Jack Bentley during a play at the plate, and was essentially connected to the injuries of two Washington pitchers in a single afternoon.17

At Detroit on September 7, the Tigers participated in a contest against their heated rivals, the White Sox, a game that went 12 innings before being decided in Chicago’s favor. The game was far more remembered for Cobb’s entanglement with Sox third baseman Jimmy Breton in the 10th inning at a point in which Ty was looking to score the winning run. Breton smartly got in Ty’s way and prevented him from reaching home. The next day, fans anticipated a reprisal and, during the first inning, Cobb rushed to third in a play in which he was easily out. He slid hard to the bag anyway, spiking Breton below his knee. A Chicago reporter claimed that “Cobb bounded up and stood over him as if gloating,” but Breton didn’t complain, and asserted that the spiking was wholly unintentional.18

Although he played in only 98 games, Cobb was designated the batting champion with a .368 average, while outlaw Benny Kauff of the Indianapolis Hoosiers in the Federal League topped him by two points, and is today generally considered the major league titleholder for 1914. Cobb produced 127 hits, 69 runs, 57 RBIs, and 35 stolen bases in his abbreviated season. The Tigers missed third place by a half game, finishing with an 80–73 record, and landing behind Philadelphia, Boston, and Washington. Based on the ongoing war, sportswriters predicted a tumultuous baseball economy, and a number of teams faced dire financial losses. Detroit, surprisingly, drew over 400,000 people at home, the third most in the league, and took in about $30,000 in profits.19

Frank Navin was pleased, not only with the performance of his club, but especially with the devotion Cobb was displaying week in and week out. “Cobb showed me another side of himself when the Federal League backers were after him. They offered him every inducement under the sun and he turned his back on them. He stood by me and said he wanted to show the people of Detroit that he was loyal to the Tigers and eager to help win a pennant. Manager Jennings will tell you that in all the years he has been here he has never seen Ty so eager to win games for Detroit nor so anxious to get along with everybody on the team. He has been the most cheerful and happiest of ball players. All this junk about the Federal League grabbing him is piffle. Cobb will not desert the Tigers.”20

As a result of the heightened camaraderie between Navin and Cobb, and to further bind them in the midst of war, a new three-year contract agreement was established in August 1914. In fact, it not only encompassed the three seasons of 1916, 1917, and 1918, but also included renegotiated terms for 1915, which had been part of the two-year deal he signed in March 1914. The new agreement called for Cobb to receive $20,000 annually for the next four years and the contentious ten-day clause was stricken from the document.21 Soon, he would be, without question, the highest paid man in baseball history.

Following the 1914 season, Cobb adjourned to his old haunts in Georgia and was able to help commemorate the World Series title of his friend George Stallings at a special dinner in Macon, Georgia. Stallings, as manager of the Boston Braves, won four-straight from Philadelphia in the championship series, and Cobb called him “the greatest instiller of the fighting spirit in ball players I have ever known.” Master of ceremonies John T. Boifeuillet told a story about Cobb, saying he overheard a conversation at a recent game with a girl asking her friend, “Why are so many policemen standing around here?” A short time later, realizing the Detroit Tigers’ star was standing on first, she answered her own question, “Oh, I know what they are for. They are trying to keep Ty Cobb from stealing bases!”22

Cobb, as usual, was always on the move, and spent a good amount of time golfing and hunting during the off-season.23 His wife Charlie was enormously understanding of his “on the go” frame of mind and was a lot less adventurous than he was. She ducked press attention and was comfortable in her role as homemaker. A baseball fan at heart, she took great pleasure in seeing games when she was afforded the opportunity, and was a staunch supporter of the Tigers. Of all her husband’s tricks on the diamond, she particularly enjoyed watching him pilfer home plate, but the awesome display he put on almost daily was tremendously satisfying for the entire Cobb family.24 Charlie, early on in their marriage, adjusted to his celebrity status and the fact that he was gone for multiple weeks throughout a given year.

Her adjustment to the demands of being a ballplayer’s wife didn’t necessarily mean it wasn’t difficult, and she was undoubtedly distressed by stories of death threats, riotous masses, and fisticuffs involving her husband. Arguably no player in sports history had been involved in as many controversial moments as Cobb over the course of his career. Each day, perhaps hundreds of newspapers across the globe ran stories about his deft defying heroics on the ball field, in addition to tales of his off-the-field scandals, contract negotiations, and copious gossip. His name sold newspapers, and sportswriters loved to bank off his marketability. Spiking incidents and chaotic brawls were music to the ears of sports editors—and the wilder, the better.

As one might imagine, this was not glorious subject matter to the loving family of Ty Cobb, and the overhyped stories published in papers were downright frightening. Charlie was well aware of his temperamental behavior and viciousness. He could be just as angry in private as he was in public, but she was patient with him. She allowed him to rule according to his own sensibilities and, understandably, took charge of the household once he was gone. For the sake of the children, she did her best to control the environment in a structured manner, and with the responsibilities of running the domestic side of things in both Detroit and Augusta, there was rarely a dull moment.

The Cobbs had established a permanent home at 2425 Williams Street in Augusta, in what was known as the “The Hill,” and F. C. Lane of Baseball Magazine called it a “typical southern mansion.”25 The two-story residence featured eight rooms, two baths, and included a “hospitable” atmosphere, which Charlie cultivated and guests always enjoyed. Ty’s office sanctuary rested on the first floor, and was a room Lane described as being under lock and key. Inside, Cobb kept his assortment of hunting rifles, weapons he wanted safeguarded from his young children, especially when he was out of town. Amongst the other notable items in Cobb’s personal stash were a collection of historical books, his favorite cigars, and a bottle of moonshine whiskey. Other miscellaneous items picked up in his travels lined the shelves and countertops.

Winters often went by in a blur, and before anyone really had a chance to realize it, Cobb was headed back northward. On March 20, 1915, he reported to the Tigers at Mobile, Alabama, in good physical condition, but, once again, appeared a tad heavy.26 His golf game was still an essential part of his preseason focus, and whenever he could sneak away from the diamond to play, he would. At Gulfport, Mississippi, spring training was a revelation, and Hugh Jennings found himself surrounded by a cast of enthusiastic athletes. Outside Cobb, Sam Crawford and George Moriarty—guys with more than ten years major league experience—the roster mainly consisted of talented youngsters with a number of them being pitching hopefuls. Ralph “Pep” Young gave added life to the infield, and from the onset of the season, the team seemed infused with high energy.

To start their 1915 campaign, the Tigers snapped off an eight-game winning streak in April and rested safely in first place. Cobb was at his best, batting in the neighborhood of .400, and tackling every aspect of the game with an intense grit. Twice within a week in early May, he raised the dead with earth-shaking responses to called strikeouts by umpires Dick Nallin and George Hildebrand, and his fiery disposition was not lessened in any way by his advancing age.27 One of the most interesting happenings of the early season didn’t involve a divisional game, but an exhibition at Syracuse against the Pittsburgh Pirates of the National League. The largely forgotten contest, occurring on June 3, 1915, saw Cobb and Honus Wagner adjourn to the same ball field for the first time since the 1909 World Series.28

An audience of 10,000 recognized the significance of having the two legends appear before them and cheered both with great fervor. Wagner, at forty-one years of age, was in his nineteenth season as a big leaguer, and had no intentions of being overshadowed. In the fourth inning, with two men on, he blasted the ball over the left-field fence for an apparent home run, but the umpire called it foul, much to the chagrin of those who clearly saw it veer to the right of the pole. It wasn’t until the ninth that Wagner got what he wanted, and homered without any controversy. But by then, the Tigers were well ahead and won the exhibition, 8–2. Cobb, incidentally, appeared in the third with the bases loaded and grounded to Wagner, triggering a double-play. As part of the field day exercises, Cobb participated in a relay race along with teammate Donie Bush and Max Carey and Bob Schang of the Pirates, and won over a local team.29

Running the bases harder than he had in years, Cobb was back to logging multiple stolen bases a game and, because of that fact, the chances for spiking accidents increased tenfold. At Boston on June 9, Red Sox shortstop Everett Scott was wounded when Cobb slid into second base during the first inning. His condition worsened when, as he favored his injury, he twisted his other ankle and missed a month of playing time.30 The situation served to amplify the tensions between Detroit and Boston, and their feud would continue to develop as the season progressed. Cobb also gashed the hand of Senators catcher John Henry stealing home on June 18,31 but no one held any grudges. In fact, Cobb amusingly caught for Henry during Washington’s fielding practice the next day.32

The never-say-die attitude of the Tigers in 1915 reminded Cobb of their 1907 campaign, and if things adhered on that path, Detroit was in line for another chance at a World Series title.33 It wasn’t guaranteed, but after the club slipped from the top spot, they remained within reach for most of the summer. A major key to the team’s success was the ability of Cobb and Bush to get on base, followed by the proficient hitting of Sam Crawford and Bobby Veach in batting them home.34 The speed and surefire offensive power of team regulars was unusually robust, and pundits referred to Cobb, Crawford, and Veach as the “Wrecking Crew.” In the AL pennant race, the competition was boiling down to Chicago, Boston, and Detroit, and there was no love lost between the three teams.

Cobb was also quick to incite things too. On August 24 at Detroit, he grounded out in the eighth inning and, rather than returning to the Tigers bench as one would expect, he trotted over to the Boston dugout and relaxed. Naturally, Red Sox players were incensed, and umpire “Silk” O’Loughlin yelled for Cobb to remove himself at once.35 Additionally, Cobb engaged in a loud argument with Boston manager Bill Carrigan, and his actions were the opposite of endearing to the latter’s men. Red Sox fans were equally aroused, and Boston Journal columnist Francis Eaton took notice of a certain negative encouragement by a local group of “discredited baseball writers” hoping for pandemonium when Detroit arrived in “Bean Town” in what was the biggest series of the pennant race.36 Troublemakers were spitefully prepared well in advance.

Over 21,000 people at Fenway Park loudly reacted to Cobb’s first appearance at the plate on September 16, 1915. Cobb was somewhat good-natured about the booing and hissing, murmuring, “It sounds like the stockyards,” and telling the crowd, “Come on, yell, we like it!”

Eaton believed he was having “a little fun” on the field, doffing his cap to the fans and offering “derisive glances.”37 He explained that Cobb was “so much more clever, brainy, and resourceful than the men who are trying to nibble on his heels,” and instead of the crowd and sportswriters working to get under his skin, he was turning things around to use it to his advantage. But the combative atmosphere morphed from one of simple hooting to one bordering on violence. Fans threw glass bottles at Cobb and it was apparent that both teams were fuming and out for blood.

Hostilities openly erupted in the eighth inning when twenty-three-year-old Carl Mays, a pitcher with a “submarine” style of throwing, threw two balls high and inside on Cobb. Blisteringly angry at what he thought were purposeful attempts to hit him, Cobb didn’t offer a full swing at the next pitch, and released the grip of his bat just as he brought it forward, sending it in the direction of the rookie right-hander. Although the bat missed its target, Cobb approached Mays and they quarreled verbally as spectators went wild. Moments later, with Cobb back in the batter’s box, Mays fired yet another pitch at him, and successfully nailed the Georgian on the wrist.38 Cobb was pumping with adrenaline and, once on base, quickly stole second. Irate rooters perceived his maneuver to be an attempt to spike Everett Scott and, two batters later, he bowled into catcher “Pinch” Thomas to score, sending the audience into a deafening uproar.

The game was called with Detroit leading, 6–1, but hooligans bombarded the field and Cobb was their main object of fury. He was “jostled about and roughed up quite a bit,” according to the Boston Herald, but he made his way to the clubhouse “leisurely” as police and teammates protected him from injury. Cobb surprisingly smiled at the near riot scene, which was probably the opposite of those looking to cause him harm anticipated.39 The next day, he was received by applause and hisses, and the two-run homer he hit in the ninth was met with a nice ovation. However, the Tigers were defeated, 7–2. Losses also came in the next two meetings, pushing Boston ahead in the standings by four games. The pennant was soon out of reach for Detroit and the Red Sox not only clinched, but won the World Series over Philadelphia.40

Cobb led the majors in batting average (.369), hits (208), runs scored (144), and stolen bases (96, which stood as a major league record until 1962), and despite a single stretch of 23-straight plate appearances without a hit in August, he played his usual remarkable game.41 He returned to Augusta for the winter and settled into a familiar routine of hunting birds, squirrels, and rabbits in Richmond and Screven Counties. Along with several partners, including John Phillip Sousa Jr. and Edward S. Rogers, Cobb purchased a sizable property of about 6,000 acres along the Savannah River to use as a hunting ground.42

In many ways, Ty Cobb was a much different man than he was a few years earlier. He was more mature, composed, and sociable, although when he was in a certain frame of mind, it didn’t take much to set him off. As a veteran member of the Tigers, he had accepted a leadership role, calling for certain plays with Crawford and his teammates rather than ignoring them. For instance, he commonly worked a bunt play when Donie Bush was on second base, drawing the fielders in with a bluff, and allowing Donie to steal third. During a September 1915 game at New York, Cobb ran in from centerfield to give pitcher George Dauss mid-inning advice, and helped the latter stave off a Yankees rally, maintaining a 4–3 lead for the win.43 He was talkative to fresh recruits and gave Jennings his opinion on the future potential of certain rookies.

Jennings enjoyed Cobb’s increased mentorship of the younger players and expected him to offer guidance to teammates in the field during games. Spring training for the Tigers returned to Texas in 1916, and the people of Waxahachie were keyed up by the opportunity to see the multi-time batting champion. But as Cobb was making last minute preparations to join the team, a devastating fire consumed downtown Augusta, spreading across thirty-two blocks and destroying over seven hundred buildings. Millions of dollars in property damages were suffered and Cobb, a big proponent of real estate, was amongst those to endure losses.44 Fortunately, his home was outside of the burn radius, but scores of his friends were directly impacted by the overwhelming ruin. Cobb was delayed by the tragedy and caught up with the club at Houston on March 31.

Houston, incidentally, was going to be the site of a highly awaited confrontation. For months and months, sportswriters had hyped Benny Kauff as the “Ty Cobb of the Federal League,” and crowed about his outstanding hitting and speed. Kauff, undoubtedly, was the sensation of the outlaw organization, batting .370 as a twenty-four-year-old rookie in 1914 for the league champion Indianapolis Hoosiers and .342 in his sophomore effort for the Brooklyn Tip-Tops. His batting average, combined with a stolen base tally of 130 over those two seasons put him in an exceptional class of ballplayers, and writers loved to compare him to Cobb.

The Federal League folded in December 1915, after a settlement was reached with Organized Baseball and the ongoing war concluded.45 As a result, Kauff transitioned over to the New York Giants, presenting an opportunity for him and Cobb to meet on the field for the first time. Giants manager John McGraw and Hugh Jennings arranged a five-game series for spring training, but four of the games were already played by the time Cobb reported. That made the Houston contest on April 2 all the more intriguing. In spite of the so-called rivalry touted by the press, Cobb and Kauff didn’t enter the exhibition as enemies, and the game went off without any fireworks. Both went 1-for-4 with a double, but Cobb was said to have gotten the better of the ex-Federal Leaguer by stealing a base and scoring two runs. The Tigers also prevailed, 9–2.46

It was customary for preseason journalists to call Cobb overweight by 1916, but as he aged, like most people, he put on extra pounds that were harder to take off, and what was considered “heavy” for the Georgian athlete was now becoming his standard “healthy” weight. Being without winter or spring practice left him a little behind in finding his batting groove, but he hovered around .300 after the first eight games of the season. He’d miss the ninth contest at Navin Field against Chicago on April 21 because of illness, and remain on the sidelines until returning to centerfield at St. Louis on April 28. Notably, Sam Crawford was another player on the sick-list in April, and for the first two months of the 1916 campaign, Detroit mostly hovered between the third and seventh positions in the American League standings.

Detroit was struggling at the plate, and it wasn’t just one or two players, but nearly all the team’s regulars were batting far below expectations, Cobb included. By mid-May, Cobb had a .273 average with Crawford, Donie Bush, Oscar Vitt, and Oscar Stanage each hitting for a lower percentage. Tris Speaker, who had been traded from Boston to Cleveland in April, was batting a hundred points better than Cobb, setting a tremendous pace for American League honors.47 Baseball critics were quick to publicly speculate whether Cobb’s best days were behind him, but Cobb worked to quiet his doubters with a strong surge, pushing his average over .300 by the end of the month. Nonetheless, his detractors were coming on hard, both in the press and from the stands, and his frustrations were occasionally exposed on the diamond.

On May 15, at Washington, D.C., he was caught in a third-inning rundown by Joe Boehling and fans were appalled when Cobb proceeded to toss a handful of dust into the pitcher’s face. To witnesses from the crowd, it was completely unwarranted, and they let him have it with a thorough onslaught of booing. The Detroit Free Press, perhaps in defense of their local hero, explained that Boehling directed a “vile” epithet at Cobb when making the tag, instigating him to respond the way he did. However, the language used was inaudible to spectators, and, since Cobb’s animalistic behavior was on full display, he obviously was the bad guy in the situation. E. A. Batchelor wrote that it was the “first time” that Cobb had been treated in such a manner at Washington, where he was typically very popular. The “verbal abuse” continued for the remainder of the game.48

Additional frustrations were apparent in Chicago on July 2, in what was the climax of a four-game sweep by the White Sox. In the seventh inning, umpire Dick Nallin called Cobb out on strikes and the latter exploded in a fit of rage. He threw his bat wildly into a section of empty seats at Comiskey Park and his “eccentric and dangerous antics” caused his ejection from the game.49 American League President Ban Johnson suspended Cobb for three days for the tantrum, and Detroit was playing its worst ball of the season. Hugh Jennings admitted Cobb was going through some hard times, but defended him from naysayers: “Every time he falls down in a pinch now or fails in an attempt to make a brilliant play, he is hooted and abused just as though he had committed some frightful crime. Cobb is as much of a gentleman as anybody in the game [and is] the last man that anybody ought to pick on. He is trying his best.”50

Another boost of support came from Cobb’s roommate, Jean Dubuc. “Let me go down as saying that a fairer, cleaner, or better ballplayer never lived than Ty. Its Cobb did this, Cobb did that, Cobb did something else all day and everywhere you go. I would be frayed out if it were me. Ty’s human, remember that, and that’s why he is so well liked. When he has a great day with the stick he’s happy, and when a slump spreads its fist over his hitting, he bucks and riles, and that’s why he does not stay in a slump. This thing of licking all the rest of the league in the batting averages every year is no pipe job. It’s the hardest thing in the world. Pitchers work their ears off against Ty, fielders are on their toes the minute he comes up to the bat and the fans all want to see him fooled, too. Cobb loves baseball, that’s why he is so good. If he played for the home team in every town we visit he would have more friends.”51

The chase for the batting championship was considered, at times, to be a three-man race between Tris Speaker, Ty Cobb, and Joe Jackson, but it was evident from the beginning of the season that Speaker was having a career year. Cobb came on hard near the finish line, but his efforts resulted in a .371 average, 15 points behind Speaker, and placed him second. For the first time in nine seasons, Cobb was a runner-up in the American League batting competition, and his dethronement as king wasn’t met with a series of alibis.52 He acknowledged and accepted the victory of Speaker without fuss. In the pennant race, the Tigers put up a gallant fight well into September, running neck and neck until losing several crucial games at home and dropping back to third. Detroit concluded the season with an 87–67 record, behind Boston and Chicago.

Cobb went east to offer his expert opinion about the Boston-Brooklyn World Series as a journalist, and moonlighted as a barnstormer with the New Haven Colonials, an independent club managed by twenty-one-year-old George M. Weiss.53 The Red Sox, following their 4–1 championship victory in the Series, played an exhibition against Cobb and the Colonials at New Haven on October 15. Cobb, holding down first base, collected eight assists and scored two hits off Babe Ruth, Boston’s shining pitching star, in a 3–3 tie. In response to the unsanctioned game, the National Commission fined Cobb, Ruth, and other major leaguers for violating the rules of Organized Baseball by participating in the exhibition.54

Before rejoining his family in Augusta, Cobb had yet another endeavor to undertake. This time around, he was stepping before a camera to film a silent movie entitled Somewhere in Georgia. The proposition, although unusual, came together through the hard work of two friends, Vaughan Glaser, part owner in a new Cleveland-based movie picture company, and Grantland Rice, the author of the script. Glaser had been the man who successfully coaxed him to step onto the vaudeville stage and it was only fitting that he had a hand in Cobb’s transition to film.55 Work began in October 1916 in the area of Tottenville, Staten Island, New York, and director George Ridgwell said, “As a movie actor, Ty is lots more than a .380 hitter.”56

A “story of baseball and romance,” the movie centered on Cobb as a bank employee in his native Georgia, and, of course, he was the star ballplayer for his local, small-town squad. He fell in love with the beautiful banker’s daughter, played by veteran actress Elsie MacLeod, but, as luck would have it, he was scouted by the Detroit Tigers at the same time and called up to the majors. But as soon as trouble arose back home, Cobb returned to save the day, fighting with a crew of outlaws before emerging at the ball field to hit the winning homer. He also scored the girl of his dreams and the movie concluded “in a manner appealing to ball fans and picture fans alike.”57 With the film complete, Cobb (who was soon to turn thirty)was ready to embrace the calming environment of the South and mentally and physically prepare to regain his lost batting title in 1917.