Winter Sunset at The Ranch
This past Wednesday, January 16, a sunset worthy of the best Bob Ross painting appeared over the frozen woodlands of The Ranch. Looking southward out a window, I snapped the photo below with my trusty Android at 5:55pm.
The southern sky was filled with the pinkest of pink-hued clouds. Concerned that my Android might not have captured the scene to its most colorful, vibrant extent (it didn't), I hunted for my Nikon Coolpix L12 and, having found it, rushed outside into the fleeting daylight. At 6:01:58 pm (the Nikon Coolpix L12 is very particular about noting such things), I shot the photo of the western sky you see below.
That photo taken, I was promptly greeted with the dreaded Low Battery Warning accompanied with a high-pitched, rapid-fire beeping and my Nikon - as it routinely does on these occasions - shut down. It should be identified as the Dead Battery Warning. Well familiar with such circumstances as this, I allowed my Nikon to quietly rest for a few moments before firing it up again for a second photograph of the pink-and-purple-and-blue sunset, taken at 6:02:22 pm with just a slight angle of tilt upward in order to capture more of the sky and less of the hallowed grounds of The Ranch. In doing so I was able to capture a better balance of blue and pink.
Warning message. Beeping. Dead battery. Again.
Momentarily I stood in the darkening chilly air, warming myself before the last pink embers of sunset that evening. I then decided that I would try to wring one final photograph out of my Nikon's depleted batteries. At 6:02:57 pm I took the photo below.
While seemingly identical to the preceding photograph, I believe that under close scrutiny you will discern deeper hued blues from above chasing a more blazingly pink sunset sinking below the distant horizon. Of course, the Nikon announced its intent to retire and, as I had raced outside sans coat, the evening's frosty winter temperature finally drove me inside.
Long-range Reconnaissance
The event taking place before the Capitol that March 4th, 1905 was the inaugural of the country's first progressive president, Republican Theodore "Teddy" Roosevelt.
But - really - aside from enjoying our heritage of superlative National Parks, who cares about progressives in the White House? What really matters in life, of course, is Major League Baseball.
This panoramic photo of the Washington (American League) ballpark was taken on May 6, 1905 just two months and two days after Teddy's inaugural.
On that Sixth day of May, the hometown Washington club beat the visiting Philadelphia Athletics, 4-2. Talk about by-gone days, among the roster of that season's Washington club were such long-forgotten luminaries of laugh-inducing names as; Rabbit Nill, Punch Knoll, Malachi Kittridge, Moxie Manuel and Happy Townsend. The 1905 Philadelphia A's would go on to win the American League pennant that season behind the pitching of Eddie Plank, Rube Waddell and Chief Bender (all three members of the Baseball Hall of Fame), even though their battery mate in 1905 was a catcher by the name of Ossee Schrecongost. You will not find a plaque with the name Ossee Schrecongost in the Hall of Fame.
Note the formal-looking attire, the heavy topcoats of the crowd on that chilly overcast Springtime afternoon. Fans of old-time baseball have to like the cozy old single-deck wooden grandstand. And how about the private residences overlooking the left field foul line? What school boy could concentrate on doing his homework when, rather, he could simply look out his bedroom window and watch enraptured of Our National Pastime as Moxie Manuel grounded into a double play?
Above you see the team photo for the 1913 Washington Senators (American League).
Second from left..... and also at far right..... is 36-year old pitcher Nick Altrock. Nick Altrock was a character. Born in Cincinnati, Ohio during the Centennial of 1876, Nick began his Major League career in 1898 pitching down river for the Louisville Colonels where he was a teammate of future Hall of Fame shortstop Honus Wagner and of Ohio-native Dummy Hoy who achieved his greatest fame playing outfield for the Cincinnati Reds from 1894-1897. Twice Nick Altrock was a 20-game winner, in 1905 and 1906, for the Chicago White Sox. Then, between, 1909 and 1924 he appeared in only 24 games, once (1919) as an infielder for Washington. The sporadic nature of his post-1908 playing career is in part attributable to the fact that in 1912 Nick Altrock became a coach for the Washington Senators, a position he held continuously through 1953. Nick Altrock's notoriety, today, has mostly to do with the clownish antics which he employed to entertain fans before games in an era long before the advent of official team mascots. The most famous proponent of these comic activities was a contemporary of Nick Altrock named Al Schacht aka "The Clown Prince of Baseball." Al Schacht was a pitcher for Washington from 1919-1921, and when his brief Major League career concluded he, too, became a coach for Washington from 1924-1934. During off-seasons, Schacht and Altrock perfomed a comedy act with which they toured the Vaudeville circuit.
The forgoing was a long way of verifying the comedic credentials of Nick Altrock.
In the early days of panoramic photography, some cameras would take the photo by means of a rotating lens which would slowly pan from left to right. Meanwhile, the subjects had to remain very still so as to not appear blurry once the negative had been developed (which, in and of itself, isn't necessarily an "old" idea). Subjects with this knowledge, and who also may have possessed inclinations towards pranksterism, would pose for their photograph at one end of the setting, then as the camera lens panned they would race to the opposite end of the setting to be photographed a second time. While this may not be a definitive source, here is another explanation/example of this:
double-exposure-a-clever-photo-prank-from-half-a-century-ago
Also in that 1913 Washington Senators team photo, third from left (and next to the "first" Nick Altrock) is a kid - and I do mean kid - by the name of Baldomero Pedro "Merito" Acosta. This native of Cuba was, in 1913, a 17-year old rookie outfielder for Washington. That 1913 season would prove to be the greatest of his brief 5-year Major League career when he hit .300/.417/.400 in only 24 plate appearances. Elected to the Cuban Baseball Hall of Fame in 1955, Acosta played winter ball in his native homeland from 1919-1925 where - allegedly - while playing center field one game he turned an unassisted triple play [I read that at Wikipedia so it
Sixth from the right, with the shock of dark hair and wide-flung ears, was first baseman Chick Gandil, eventual ringleader of the 1919 Black Sox scandal. 1913 would prove also to be his best Major League season, one of only two in which he hit better than .300 (.318 in 603 Plate Appearances).
Beyond question, the most significant figure in this 1913 team photo can be found third from right; Hall of Fame pitcher Walter "Big Train" Johnson. 6'1" and 200 pounds, nobody in the 19th or 20th century threw the baseball harder than this side-arm throwing righthander. Today, in the 21st century, seemingly every Tom, Dick, Aroldis and Verlander can throw 100+ mph heat consistently. Prior to this century, perhaps Nolan Ryan aka "The Ryan Express" could throw the ball as hard and for as long a period as "the Big Train." Perhaps. Over 21 seasons, from 1907-1927, and all with Washington, Walter Johnson tallied 417 Wins (second most all-time behind Cy Young's 511 Wins). Today, at first glance his 3509 career Strikeouts might seem a bit pedestrian among the all-time leaders. But consider that among the 16 pitchers with 3000 or more Strikeouts, none pitched prior to the 1950s and that only one - Hall of Famer Bob Gibson - started their Major League playing career as early as the decade of the 1950s (and even then, Gibby's rookie season was 1959).
Ten times Walter Johnson recorded 20-win seasons. Two additional seasons - in 1912 and 1913 - he won, respectively, 33 and 36 games. In 1913, during the season this panoramic team photo was taken, "The Big Train" would post a 36-7 record with a 1.14 ERA over 346 innings pitched. Twice, in 1910 and 1912, he recorded more than 300 strikeouts.
"The Big Train" would lead the American League in innings pitched 5 times, and in strikeouts 12 different times. 6 times he led in complete games (and 7 times in his career he tallied 30+ complete games for a season) and 7 times he was his League's leader in shutouts (recording a total of 110 for his career).
Hailed universally as a humble, genuinely nice human being, "The Big Train" was respected - and liked - by teammates and the opposition alike. Once during his playing days when an opposing pitcher suggested to Walter Johnson that he could be even greater if only he would pitch inside to batters, "The Big Train" rejected this strategy, telling the other pitcher he was too concerned for the batters' safety, fearing that since he threw so hard that an errant inside pitch would kill an opposing batter.
Walter Johnson would win two MVP Awards, in 1913 and again in 1924 and is, I think, the greatest pitcher of all-time. Walter Johnson played on some - in fact, many - notoriously awful Washington ball clubs. In 1907 and 1910, his team finished 8th out of 8 American League teams, losing more than 100 games in both instances. 5 times his club finished 7th out of 8. Twice more his club finished 6th of 8. You try winning 417 games for a franchise which noted baseball writer of the period Charles Dryden described thus; "Washington - first in war, first in peace, and last in the American League." Had Walter Johnson pitched on better teams, or for a franchise with a stronger commitment to winning, there's no telling how many more games "The Big Train" might have won. Consider also that Cy Young - he of the 511 career wins and an eponymous award for pitching excellence - began his Major League career in 1890, at a time when the "pitchers' box" was a mere 50 feet from home plate, catchers were not permitted to wear a padded mitt and batters were permitted to use a flat-sided bat. Much of Cy Young's career took place at a time and under rules that were markedly different from what we now describe in baseball as "The Modern Era," or after 1900. Walter Johnson's accomplishments were achieved playing a game of baseball that we would more readily recognize today and it is for this reason that I rate Johnson's career ahead of a pitcher (Cy Young) who had nearly 100 more lifetime wins.
In Walter Johnson's brilliant career, probably the brightest-shining moment came during the 1924 World Series. At the advanced age of 36, his Washington Senators had finally, for their first time in franchise history, made it to the Fall Classic. Of course, "The Big Train" got the ball to pitch Game 1 at home against the New York Giants (tie-in from last week). He went the distance in a 12-inning loss, 4-3. The Senators rebounded to win Game 2. Game 3, at the Polo Grounds, was won by the Giants, but the Senators then won Game 4 in New York. Game 5, again at the Polo Grounds, Walter Johnson made his second start of the World Series and went the distance in a 6-2 loss. At this stage, you can image how "The Big Train" must have been feeling. His rookie season had been in 1907. He'd had a phenomenal career. He was acknowledged as the best pitcher in the game. It had taken him all these years to finally get a chance to play in the World Series, and he'd taken the loss in the two games he'd pitched. He might not get another opportunity - ever - to pitch in this or any other World Series. With the Senators trailing 3 games to 2, the Series went back to Washington were the home town club beat the New York Giants in Game 6 to even the Series.
Game 7. The deciding game.
Washington went with starting pitcher Curly Ogden. OK, right away, you can see where this is heading. Curly WHO?! Curly Ogden faced two Giants' batters and got the hook from his manager, Bucky Harris. Curly was followed to the mound by George Mogridge and Firpo Marberry. You read that correctly; Firpo Marberry. Somehow, miraculously, after 8 innings of Curly, George and Firpo, Game 7 of the 1924 World Series was tied, 3-3. On just two days' rest in October, during a season in which he'd already started 40 games (including the World Series), and twice-beaten in this World Series, a tired and one can imagine sore-armed 36-year old Walter Johnson was summoned from the bullpen in the Top of the 9th Inning as the Senators' last hope for shutting down the New York Giants and winning the championship. Johnson got lead off batter and future Hall of Famer Freddie Lindstrom to pop out. Then, with one out, future Hall of Famer Frankie Frisch tripled to center field. Next up, future Hall of Famer Ross Youngs (look him up) drew an intentional walk. "The Big Train" next got future Hall of Famer (do you sense a pattern developing?) High Pockets Kelly on a strikeout. With Irish Bob Meusel at bat, Ross Youngs stole second, putting two runners in scoring position. Johnson induced a weak ground out from Meusel, the Giants' 9th Inning threat averted.
The Senators were held scoreless in the Bottom of the 9th.
Game 7 was Walter Johnson's to pitch, and so he returned to the mound for the Top of the 10th. Future Hall of Famer Hack Wilson walked to lead off the inning. With one runner on and no outs, Walter Johnson next got Hall of Famer Travis Jackson on a strikeout and Hank Gowdy ground into a double play to end the Giants' 10th.
The Senators were held scoreless in the Bottom of the 10th.
Top of the 11th, Walter Johnson gave up a lead-off single to former Cincinnati Red Heinie Groh who was immediately lifted by Hall of Fame manager John McGraw for a pinch runner. Freddie Lindstrom executed a bunt sacrifice, moving the pinch runner up to second base and, critically, into scoring position. Next up, Frankie Frisch who tripled off Walter Johnson in the 9th Inning. This time, Frisch struck out against Johnson. Ross Youngs (look him up) was given his second intentional walk in as many plate appearances against Johnson. With two on and two out, up to the plate stepped High Pockets Kelly who struck out to end the inning. Walter Johnson may have been 36-years old. He may have been pitching on short rest. He may have been twice-beaten in this Series. We might imagine his arm was sore. But in the 11th Inning of Game 7 of the 1924 World Series, "The Big Train" was rolling.
The Senators were held scoreless in the Bottom of the 11th.
Top of the 12 Inning, and at this late stage in the game, in October, playing before the advent of night baseball there was a very real concern that the game would be called on account of darkness, ending the game in a tie, thus necessitating a Game 8. Irish Bob Meusel lead off the Giants' 12th Inning with a single to right field. "The Big Train" rang up Hack Wilson on a strike out. Travis Jackson ground out and Hank Gowdy ended the Giants' 12th on a flyball out to left field.
Bottom of the 12th. The Senators' lead off hitter ground out. Muddy Ruel was granted a reprieve when he hit what appeared to be a routine pop foul, what would have been the second out of the Inning, to the Giant's catcher. But in tracking the pop foul, Giants catcher Hank Gowdy stumbled over his discarded catchers' mask and the pop foul fell harmlessly to the ground. Muddy then ripped a double to left field. Batting, Walter Johnson reached base on an E6. Senators center fielder Earl McNeely won the World Series on a ground ball double to left field, scoring Muddy Ruel and sending "The Big Train" to third base were he was mobbed by his joyous teammates and hailed as the crowning victor by the hometown Washington fans.
That kind of triumph in the face of defeat is about as good as it gets!
I first learned of this classic Game 7 by reading Bill Corum's first-person newspaper report as reprinted in Charles Einstein's fantastic The Fireside Book of Baseball. In fact, the first three Fireside Books are unparalleled. I've searched high and low on the internet and cannot find Corum's account anywhere in its entirety, only brief passages. I will not transcribe it here, save for these two excerpts:
When the Senators took the field it was behind the broad shoulders of Walter Johnson, and this time their hero did not fail them. In danger in every one of the four innings he worked, he rose superbly to every emergency. In each succeeding crisis he became a little more the master. Twice he struck out Kelly when the game hung by a thread so fine that thousands in the tense, silent throng turned their heads away with every pitch.
Somewhere, perhaps, in that little patch of sunlight that was filtering through the shadowy stands and down in front of the pitcher's mound the once mightiest arm of all was finding the strength to do the thing that twice before had balked it. In those four innings the grand old man struck out five batters, and when his need was direst he was best. Twice he turned McGraw's team back with two runners waiting to score and two other times with one.
Corum concluded his report this way:
When future generations are told about this game they will not hear about Barnes, or Frisch, or Kelly or even about Harris or McNeely. But the boy with his first glove and ball crowding up to his father's knee will beg:
"Tell me about Walter Johnson."
Below you will find a brief film collage, found at YouTube, of "The Big Train" in action. The first :23 seconds are just different shots of Walter Johnson getting loose. But at the :24-mark he really gets it cranked up and that's immediately followed by a clip of "the full wind-up," back when pitchers really did "wind-up."
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Putting a bow on our look back at Washington D.C., presidents and the 1924 World Series, below is a photo of pre-game festivities from Game 1 of the 1924 World Series in which the Senators' player-manager Bucky Harris greets then-president Calvin Coolidge. One of our all-time greatest presidents!
Uniform sufficionados should appreciate the dignified simplicity of the plain white home-team uniforms of the Washington ball club, the only identifier being a "W" on each of the upper sleeves.
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