HOT PIE AND OTHER LAST DESSERTS

October 10, 1924

The top of the Washington Monument turned out to be a great place to hide from Butterworth. I knew the last thing he wanted to do was waste time on the long elevator ride or climb even twenty of the steps. When we got back to Washington Rachel and me stayed with Benny in a rooming house in the colored section of town, also a great place to avoid Butterworth, and we spent most of yesterday's day off playing cards and reading my Game 5 story in the New York Sun over and over.

But today was Game 6, and it might be the end, so we couldn't hide forever. Rachel wanted me to go face him already and put this baby business behind us but I chose to just find a space to stand out in back of the left field stands so I could watch the game and not have to think about it. Rachel wanted a real chair, though, so she broke away and went who knows where as soon as we got into the ball park.

Benny was off getting us food when Cal suddenly appeared out of nowhere, his face all red like he was going to spout lava out of his ears.

"Thought you could get away with that, didn't you?"

"You mean my game story? You're right, I did!"

"You cost me twenty-five dollars yesterday, son. And now Mr. Munsey won't use either of us!"

"Gee, Cal. I'm sorry about that. I just—"

"You're just an insufferable little snipe, is what you are. If you were my son I'd give you a thrashing right here you would never forget!"

"Good thing I'm not then, huh?"

His cheeks puffed out and he raised a hand and then Benny was there, dropping his sausage rolls and separating us with all the muscle he had.

"C'mon, you two, cut that out! Can't we all just get along better?"

Cal and me looked at him, then at each other. Benny's line did have a nice sound to it. He forced us to shake hands with all these ball fans standing around watching, and then the Senators taking the field and all of them cheering, and then he had another question for us.

"So who's going to write today's game story?"


ONE MORE SHOCK FOR THE ROAD

By Rachel Stone Spanelli
Female Ballscriber

WASHINGTON, D.C.—Before a tumultuous, terminally mad throng bursting every crack in Griffith's ball yard, an unforgettably enthralling spectacle was performed for Game Six of the 1924 World Series this afternoon. When it was complete, nary a fan was without a thumping heart or sliding tear.

The contest matched the same Game Two moundmasters Meadows and Mogridge, but this had no resemblance to that one-sided sleep-inducer. The Senators were fresh off their exciting final triumph in western Pennsylvania, and eager to get an early advantage to calm down their recently unsteady ball-thrower.

And so they did. Here was Goslin leading the 2nd with a free pass, and Rice singling him along, and Harris singling him back into the home dugout, a golden run clutched in their hands. In the 3rd it was Pirate right roamer Barnhart helping them out, dropping an easy Tate fly for a two-base gaffe. A single by Judge, double by Goslin and two successive wild heaves by Meadows brought home three runs, and sent the gathering into seizures of joy. Another hideous Pittsburgh misplay by Wright with two outs in the 4th brought Harris in with another run, it was 5-0 for Washington, and Walter Johnson was already sitting comfortably in the shadows, planning his opening pitches for Game Seven.

But this reporter hails from the fair city of Brooklyn, a place of base ball disappointment I am very accustomed to, and something never felt correct or sure about this five-run lead. These Pirates are just too professional and utterly dashing to belly up and die on us, and when seldom-used Jeff Pfeffer took over for Meadows and squirreled out of two straight runner-jams, it seemed very likely a shift in the fates was coming.

And so it did. Heinie Mueller batted for Pfeffer with one out in the Pirate 6th and blistered a double. Barnhart singled him home. Local hopes surfaced again as Grimm bounced an easy double play roller out to Bluege at third. But the Lord saw fit to drop a stray pebble in his path. Ossie reached as the ball abruptly changed course, then kicked it will-nilly, and it was suddenly second and third.

It was here that Harris made a fateful decision, one that may resonate in the sport's history for time evermore. With the lefty-butchering Traynor due at the dish and Mogridge on the verge of collapse, judging from the sweat I could make out glistening on his thick neck, right-hander Marberry was summoned to take his place.

But Pie baked him instantly, clanging a monstrous triple off the left-center wall, bringing home both runners and thrusting the Swashbucklers back into the fray. The Nats got one back on a Judge single in the last of the 6th, but with Mogridge now vacationing, the Washington bullpen was forced to save the game, a not-very-frequent occurrence in these parts of late.

What's more, the Pirates would have been happier getting their teeth extracted than having to face The Big Train in a climactic game.

And they suddenly played that way. Grimm and hot Traynor singled to begin the 8th, bringing in Alan Russell. Carey walked. A single by Wright and walk to pinch-sticker Smith brought home two and made it 6-5. Fans were turning their backs to the field, women were clutching their men or if none were with them, the nearest ones. After Leibold was left on second by the Senators in their 8th, it grew quieter than the Vatican for the top of the 9th. Barnhart led with a walk. Grimm singled him to second. Traynor finally made an out with an easy fly, and when Carey grounded into a force there was just one out left.

How could it not be Kiki Cuyler striding to the plate now? Seriously, how could it not? Russell stared in, the grandstand shadow tickling his big shoulders, likely shut his eyes and whipped in a fastball. Cuyler cracked it into left to tie the game! Cursing and wailing erupted around me. Glenn Wright was next, and took a gentler approach, looping a ball into center that dropped in front of the onrushing Leibold. Wright scampered in and before he could even look up the Pirates had the shocking lead!

And then we were left with Babe Adams, sweeping the debris off Griffith's soiled floor. Rice popped to third. Bluege singled, to at least save him from arsenic after his earlier stooge-moment, but not even manager Harris could muster a hit this time, grounding into an easy force for out number two. Peckinpaugh was lifted for young Lance Richbourg, triple-hitting star of Game One, for it is the young and fiery that always produce hope.

But Richbourg bounced right back to Adams, who floated the ball over to Grimm, who threw the ball and his mitt and his hat so high it still hasn't come down and the Pirates charged onto the field and lifted Adams on their shoulders and no one could believe what had just happened.

And yet it did. And we are all richer for having experienced it. For it is the fate of many a tragic ball hero to die on his home battlefield, his brother-in-bats lying about him, staring at the cold autumn sky and already dreaming of spring.

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Well, Rachel let me read a copy of her story as we got back on the train, and I was pretty knocked out by it. I told her it was a good thing she was giving up novel-writing because it seemed she had a better future with this kind of thing, but that sort of insulted her so I apologized right away.

Cal and me and Benny ended up watching the second half of the game from a pretty good spot near the left field pole, and Benny even met a girl ball fan from Philadelphia who he got onto the return train with him. Butterworth was my friend again, because the game was so gripping that by the end we'd even forgot we'd had an argument. All in all, it was an incredible Series, with three of the games decided by one run and not even one homer being hit. He was taking a different train back to Detroit so we gave each other hearty handshakes and wished him the best for next season, even though he wasn't clear what he was going to be doing yet.

I didn't either, but then I thought maybe me and Rachel picking up different baseball writing gigs wasn't the worst idea. "Uh-uh," she said, as the express back to New York started pulling out, "I don't think all the train travel and late nights would be the best thing for me."

"How come?"

She squeezed my hand and looked in my eyes. "Because I'm with child, Vinny."

I stared at her a long second, then looked around the train car. "A child? Where?"

"No, dummy. " She put my hand on her belly. "In here."

I couldn't breathe. I know this sounds real weird, people, but suddenly, at that moment, I just wanted to be back in Mrs. Crackerbee's class, reciting my multiplication.

AFTERWORDS


As the Rolling Stones have sung, time waits for no one, but for over a year now it's been a daily pleasure to lose myself in 1924 and report the daily adventures of Vinny Spanelli, Calvin Butterworth, and the major league ballplayers of that memorable era.

At some point a few months ago I began copying all my posts into a Word file, and now have two of them totaling around 800 pages. Neither of the two novels I wrote before this were more than 320, so I guess I had a lot to say here, and I hope you all enjoyed your visits to my reinvented Jazz Age world. I hope to make a trimmed-own version of the full saga available online or elsewhere in the near future, but that will happen when it happens.

Thanks go out to Tom Baker and Lou Siegel, Tom for his early belief in the concept and coming up with the name Tuggerheinz, Lou for his constant tweaking tips and heartfelt devotion to the site. Web scribes Mike Lynch and Craig Calcaterra provided early encouragement by linking their readers to the site before anyone else, and Scott Simkus deserves a special mention for creating the magical Negro Leagues card set that helped get me through a season largely devoid of a pennant race, and for enduring an online interview with me. Google and their endless archive of fabulous images also deserve thanks.

Last but not least, 1924 would not have been possible without the love, support, and tolerance of my incredible wife Carmen, who actually designed a desk extension just for my Strat-O-Matic games when we built our new office.

That said, I'm afraid I must journey back through the time portal now, but not quite to the modern age. Beginning later today, I will be launching my next unique "blog novel," Play That Funky Baseball, featuring the almost-best teams of 1977. (What can I say? I've been two-timing you.) An array of noteworthy baseball writers and bloggers are on board to "manage" the teams, and it should be mighty mighty righteous indeed.

And so, to Vinny, Cal, Rachel, Benny, Mama, the Over-the Rhine Boys and kids outside Navin Field, to Cy, Rube, the Babe, Kiki, Goose, Walter, and I suppose even Ty...it's not been real.

—J.P., Culver City, CA

DIDN'T SEE THIS OR THAT ONE COMING

By Vicenzo Spanelli
Baseball Fan Scribe-at-Large

October 8, 1924

PITTSBURGH—Can you believe that Butterworth yesterday? What a snot-face! Sticking me in the corner with journalism papers to read like I just peed myself in the fourth grade or something. Mrs. Crackerbee wouldn't even have done that.

So nuts to him, I thought, as I followed him out of our hotel this morning. I'm sitting with the crazed Pirate fans this time and I'm going to write about the game the way I want and I'll get it to his New York Sun guy before he turns HIS in and he can just plain live with it. And if the Bucs win it today I'll probably end up drinking more than I've ever drunk because after all, it is a Pennsylvania team we're talking about, right?

Two lefties, Zachary for the Nats, and Yde for the Pirates, were pitching today, and both have had their crap-parties lately. Yde's actually famous for pitching seven or eight great innings and then melting into a puddle in the 9th.

This time his teammates were doing the melting, and pretty early. With Senators on first and third and two outs, a ball got past Gooch and in came the first run of the game. Then in the 2nd, Ruel hit a ball out to Cuyler who I'm sick of hearing about already and Kiki flubbed it for a two-base error to put men on second and third. Zachary then doubled home two and it was 3-0 Washington and there seemed about as much chance for a big Pittsburgh party as I did of becoming Governor.

Lucky for them, Ossie Bluege was playing third base for the other team. After a Grimm single and Traynor walk, Carey bounced an easy double play ball down to Bluege and he did everything but touch it as the ball ended bouncing off a seat rail behind him for a two-base error. Cuyler hit a sacrifice fly and just like that it was 3-2 and people around me were going ape and banging on their seats.

Around the top of the 4th after Carey dropped a ball I made a note on my pad about how the Bucs seemed to have butter in their gloves, and suddenly a pair of real gloves covered my eyes from behind. A scratchy voice said "Guess who?" in my ears.

"You got me," I said. "I know it ain't you Cal, that's for sure."

Then I smelled perfume. I spun around and looked up at Rachel Stone Spanelli, wearing a sweet light blue dress and matching hat and none other than my best buddy Benny standing behind her. I was so shocked I couldn't even talk.

"Think we were gonna stay home while you had all the fun?" Benny asked.

"I can't believe you're here! How did you ever—"

"Your old principal, that's how," said Rachel.

"You mean Tuggerheinz?"

"He knows the Phillies owner, remember?" said Benny, "Anyway he got left World Series tickets but got sick and couldn't go and left them with your mama—"

"—who sent them to me—"

"—who came down to Philly and scooped me up first—"

"—and now we're here!"

I jumped out of my seat, gave Rachel a hug and kiss and shook Benny's hand and then he took my seat while I went to the other side of home plate and sat with Rachel in theirs.

Meanwhile two more innings went by with no one scoring and the place getting real tense, because the last thing Bucs fans wanted was for their boys to have to go back to Washington.

The Senators begged to differ. Yde got all kinds of shaky all of a sudden, as Bluege singled, and Peckinpaugh and Ruel walked to load the bases. Up came Zachary, like most of the Senator pitchers also a great hitter. Sure enough, he painted the ball down the line an inch from the foul stripe, good for a double and two more runs batted in. Leibold grounded out but then Yde flubbed an easy grounder and a third run ran across.

Gooch tripled one in for the Bucs to keep their fans alive, and after Judge hit a scoring fly in the 8th, Yde knocked in another Pirate run with a two-out single. This finished off Zachary, brought on Firpo Marberry and got the Pittsburghers cuckoo again, but the Firp was up to the task this time. Smith hit for Barnhart and grounded out to leave two on the bases, and after Grimm singled to begin the Buc 9th, Traynor rapped into a killer double play, Carey bounced out, and we were all headed back to Washington!

Were we ever. Rachel and Benny and me were squeezed into the press people's parlor car along with assorted players, wives, writers and operators. Nobody slept because you couldn't. I wouldn't put the train ride in the same fun league as the incredible one we took with Oscar Charleston and Smokey Joe Williams and those Black Phillies back in August, and that's just something else the colored players were better at than us.

It was so packed on the World Series express I don't think I got a word in with Butterworth all night. Which was probably a good thing, because when he sees my name instead of his in the paper tomorrow morning he's gonna blow a valve.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Game 6 of the World Series will not be available on Twitter this evening, due to Ye Olde Fox Tweeter Network Ltd.'s exclusive rights to all Saturday action. Readers must follow the concluding game(s) on this trusty page, but to quote an old popular sage, a splendid time is guaranteed for all.

SHELL-SHOCKED AND AWED

LATE CANNONBALLS OFF JOHNSON SINK SENATOR HOPES

October 7, 1924


By C. Jedediah Butterworth
Base Ball Freesciber

While I did appreciate my young understudy's attempt at sports writing yesterday, he is currently reading up on his journalism techniques with an armful of newspapers at the back of this room. Walter Johnson is going in Game Four with a chance to tie the Series back up, and I need the occasion to be professionally recounted.

PITTSBURGH—Virtually suffocated yesterday by the spectacled wizardry of one Lee Meadows, the Senators are determined to polish their clubs this afternoon against Ray Kremer. Oftentimes just a run or two are enough when the Big Train is chugging on the hill, and manager Harris seems certain they can muster that amount.

Rice launches the attack with a shattering triple to begin the 2nd, but an infield hit that Tate beats out fails to bring the runner in. Bluege is struck to fill the sacks, a Peckinpaugh force keeps everyone at bay, and it is left to the regal Johnson to single into left for two quick runs. Harris knocks in another one out later, and Walter has a 3-0 cushion!

Pittsburgh puts a small handful of men aboard, but two double plays erase them pronto. The 4th frame tells a different tale, though. Traynor and Wright open with singles, Kremer moves them ahead with an expert bunt, and the poisonous Max Carey singles them both in to make it 3-2 and awake the teeming crowd. A Judge single and long Goslin double to start the Washington 5th failed to bring in a run, and in the 6th they manage to leave another pair aboard.

It stings them like a hornet right away. Cuyler doubles with one out in the Pirate 6th, Traynor triples him in, and the game is knotted 3-3. And then the 7th happens, a grisly example of Washington's swatting woes. Carey drops Goslin's fly in center to begin the inning with a 2-base error. Rice singles but Goslin holds up at third. Bluege walks with one out but Peckinpaugh and Johnson both ground out to leave three adrift this time!

It stays tied until the 8th, when Judge's single, Goslin's single and third hit (see photograph above), and Rice's single make it 4-3 for the Nats. Mathews and Ruel replace Goslin and Tate for defense, and Johnson strands two Bucs in the last of the 8th by getting the brutal Traynor on a force-out.

Three more Senator hits sandwiched around a sickening pop double play on a bunt attempt by Peckinpaugh send the suspenseful thriller to the last of the 9th. Sixteen runners all told are abandoned by Washington for the afternoon, a number that may soon be haunting their dreams.

For Wright draws a walk to begin the 9th matters. Johnson bears down to fan Maranville and pinch-batter Gooch, though, and we can almost see him hiding a grin from the press row. One more out and the Series is tied.

Except the one more out is Max Carey, punishing the ball all Series with an 8-for-17 performance, or .471. And he does it again, rifling a ball high off the right wall for a double and tie game! Johnson cannot believe it, nor can this reporter. But we barely have time to contemplate the miracle when Grimm strikes the next pitch into the right gap for another scoring double and the ball game for the Pirates!

The Day They De-Railed the Train is what Pittsburghers will call this incredible game, and with a 3-1 advantage now in the Autumn Classic, it may also be known as Walterloo.

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EDITOR'S NOTE: Game Five from Pittsburgh's Forbes Field will be Tweet-casted right here TONIGHT at 10 p.m. Eastern time, 7 Pacific. This will be the final Tweetcast for the World Series, but do not think for a moment that it foreshadows the actual end.

THRILLING ATMOSPHERE, ICKY GAME

By Vincenzo Spanelli
Baseball Fan Scribe-at-Large

October 6, 1924

PITTSBURGH—After two real close sizzler-games in Washington, everyone hauled west on the train yesterday and made their way out to a city this scribe-at-large feels like he's been to twenty times already this season.

But it never looked anything like this. Pirate flags hung everywhere, along with a couple of straw-filled dummies of guys in suits I figured were supposed to be senators hanging from lamp posts by their necks. Anyway, it's the first World Series here in Steelville since 1909 when Wagner was playing, so the whole town's pretty sauced about it.

Ogden was going for the Nats, and he was 19-6 for the year and was probably going to be tough. Morrison for the Pirates was "only" 14-5 but had three shutouts and was even tougher than the other guy at times.

Leibold managed to work a walk in the 1st but a nifty double play started by Grimm wiped that thing right out. A Carey double and Moore single later, the Bucs were up 1-0 and the Forbes crowd was giving me a headache already.

I guess Ogden didn't get a good night's sleep because he had just about no petrol in his tank. A walk and singles from Traynor and Maranville and Grimm got three more runs across in the 2nd and the Pittsburghians were singing and dancing little jigs in the aisles. I kind of wished I was down there singing and jigging instead of trapped up in a stuffy writer box, but oh well, that's what being a paid professional is about.

After that early excitement came five innings of absolute nothing—except for the three more double plays the Pirates turned on the stinky Senators, every one of them started by the Rabbit. Ogden was kept in because he calmed down awful good, but when the 8th rolled around he lost his mind again. Moore walked and Cuyler singled. Smith got one in with a long fly, Traynor walked, Wright singled and Harris finally brought on Russell to put Curly out of his misery.

I was left to drown in mine, though. Pitching was the name of this snoozer, and you know me, I'm used to 11-10 games at the Baker Bowl day every day, so when Morrison gloved a grounder by Peckinpaugh for the final out after Washington scratched out a measly run, I jumped out of that press row like my drawers were burning.

At least Walter Johnson goes again tomorrow for Game Four. Me and my mentor who you're probably used to reading here Cal Butterworth saw him a few times on the train to Pittsburgh, and he was as polite as a ball player can be. You'd never know he could change the shape of your face with just one of his buggywhip heaters.

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EDITOR'S NOTE: Game Four from Pittsburgh's Forbes Field will be Tweet-casted right here TONIGHT at 10 p.m. Eastern time, 7 Pacific, with the other games continuing at that same time through the week, and full accounts appearing on this site the following morning.

BABE OUT OF THE WOODS

BUCCANEER RELIEF ACE ADAMS SAVES GAME TWO, KNOTS SERIES

By C. Jedediah Butterworth
Base Ball Freescriber

October 4, 1924

WASHINGTON, D.C.—The reporters swarming around batting practice today are like honey-fattened bees, buzzing about every detail of yesterday's scintillating extra-frame victory for the Senators. How could these clubs come close to topping that scenario?

For the Pirates, their goal is to expunge the horror from their minds as soon as possible. And Clyde Barnhart's rope of a single leading off Game Two against Mogridge seems like a fine first step. Grimm bunts Clyde to second, but Traynor whiffs badly and after Carey hustles out an infield hit and steals second, the extraordinary Cuyler lines to Peckinpaugh to end the threat.

Lee Meadows seems on his game for Pittsburgh, though, and gets the Nats with no effort in the 1st. Mogridge retires the first two Bucaneers in the 2nd, then reverts to the foul pitching ways that have plagued him since Labor Day. Gooch singles, as does Meadows, and Barnhart's second shot brings home the first Pirate score.

Goslin and Rice strike singles to begin the Senator 2nd, but go nowhere as Tate, Bluege, and Peckinpaugh all roll out. It is not a comforting omen. With one out in the 3rd, Carey blisters a two-sack hit and Cuyler walks. Wright and Maranville follow with sharp singles, Gooch lifts a scoring fly out to the Goose and it is instantly 4-0 for the visitors!

The bloodletting continues in the 4th. Barnhart collects his third safety, a double, to begin matters, and after a ground out, Traynor singles him to third. Barnhart is forced at home on a Carey grounder to Bluege, but a predictable Cuyler single brings in a run and finishes not-very-gorgeous George for the afternoon. Peckinapugh caps off the inning by kicking away Wright's grounder, it is 6-0, and the aura of doom we felt much of yesterday returns to the Griffith yard.

Meadows finally flinches in the 5th, as Tate singles, Bluege walks, and with two outs Lance Richbourg, rewarded by manager Harris with the leadoff position for his heroic triple in the first game, singles in Tate to get the home nine on the board.

In the 6th it gets even more interesting. Goslin bombs a double with one out, Rice and Tate single and Bluege hits a scoring fly to make it 6-3! As they always seem to do, though, the swaggering Bucs come right back, scoring a run in the 7th on a walk to the Rabbit, stolen base and double by pitcher Meadows himself off Marberry.

My young assistant fetches me a cold pop halfway through the 8th, and I have my head turned to open the bottle when Goslin starts the Senator inning with a line single. Rice doubles and the ball park is alive once more. Tate singles home two and Meadows is sent packing! The crowd cheers his departure, but it's less of a blessing than they think.

Because in strolls Charles Benjamin "Babe" Adams, the toughest relief man in either league. He walks Bluege, sees the score inch to 7-6 when Wright boots another two-out grounder, but then induces Harris to line out with two men aboard.

Russell hurls a scoreless Pittsburgh 9th, and then Babe returns to the hill. Fresh from the 9th inning dramatics yesterday, the thousands of loyalists on hand rise as one to cheer a new rally to life. Judge singles, and it's begun!

Then Goslin raps into an easy double-play, and it is done! The Goose did manage two singles and a key double, but he has been excelling at times like this all season, and his recent failures have not endeared him to Washington base ball society. Rice flies harmlessly out to Moore in right, and this tension-stuffed championship spectacle moves on to the Steel City in a perfectly even state.

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EDITOR'S NOTE: Game Three from Pittsburgh's Forbes Field will be Tweet-casted right here TONIGHT at 10 p.m. Eastern time, 7 Pacific, with the other games continuing at that same time through the week, and full accounts appearing on this site the following morning.

GRIPPING FROM START TO FINISH

PIRATES AND SENATORS STAGE UNFORGETTABLE OPENING ACT

By C. Jedediah Butterworth
Base Ball Freescriber

October 3, 1924

WASHINGTON, D.C.—Did we really just witness that? It began with President Coolidge wishing Walter Johnson luck, and thirteen innings and nearly three hours of utter tension later, the 27,000 at Griffith Stadium and countless more following Game One on electric boards around the nation were rendered speechless.

The parade of bands and dignitaries seemed endless before game time, and all it did was swell the suspenseful knot in everyone's throat, for this was a matchup that seemed nearly even when jotted down on paper. It was a cool, sunny afternoon in northwest Washington, perfect for sharp play, and the press rows around me were a-clatter with banging typewriter keys.

The Big Train began his twirling day as if he had his namesake to catch at the station, dispatching the first nine Pirates with rapid ease. Kremer was a bit looser with his dexterity, but was able to escape a pair of minor pickles in the first three frames.

The 4th told a different tale, though. Carey opened with a line single and stole second on Ruel. Grimm singled him plateward, but a ferocious arm-bullet from Nemo Leibold finished Carey at the plate to ignite the crowd. The Pirates were just sharpening their cutlasses, though. After Moore walked, Cuyler sizzled a ball to deep left-center, scoring the first two runs. When Smith singled on the next pitch it was 3-0 Pittsburgh, and the park fell into a funereal silence.

Judge ended that mood quickly, though, with a booming double to lead off the last of the 4th. A walk to Goslin, Bluege single and pair of well-timed force-outs gave the Nats two tallies right back, and the teeming horde was engaged in the contest again.

Three quiet innings followed, Kremer and Johnson matching outs, until Maranville led the 8th with a double. A Kremer bunt moved him along, and after a Carey walk, Grimm plated the run with a force grounder, due to Harris putting the middle infielders back. The 4-2 score seemed to depress the locals yet again, and it wasn't until Rice singled with one gone in the last of the 9th that they stirred back to life. Bluege grounded out, and then Harris had a strange hunch and removed himself for left-swinging Richbourg. Lance waited for a fastball that agreed with him, then mashed it deep to center. The ball sailed over the head of Carey as Richbourg slid into third with a triple! It was suddenly 4-3!

Here was Peckinpaugh now, bouncing a ball out to Wright to end the game—except Wright booted it and Richbourg scored the tieing run! Johnson then stayed in the game and doubled, but little Peck had to stop at third. The moment Babe Adams was summoned from the Pirate bullpen, Tate batted for Ruel, popped out, and the game was going into extra chapters.

With daylight on the wane and all nerves on the edge of a blade, Adams and Johnson then did their finest work of the year, each holding the other scoreless for three innings. For the Train it was actually four, and even though he was straining to finish each frame out there, Harris was clearly reluctant to go to his wobbly relief corps of Russell, Marberry and Speece.

He didn't need to. For in the last of the fateful 13th, Goslin led with a single, his first safety of the Series. Rice and Bluege both skied out, and up came backup second sacker Tommy Taylor, forced to enter the contest when Bucky shockingly pulled himself from the lineup and produced Richbourg's incredible triple.

Taylor miraculously did the same! Clubbing a ball high and deep to center field! Carey was off with the crack but couldn't get to the wall in time, the sphere skipping merrily off the top of the barrier and bounding away from Carey! Here came Goslin, running around third and into the arms of waiting mates for the game-winning run!

What a spectacle! What a World Series opener! It was hard to see Taylor being swarmed on the field through the cloud of flying straw hats, and by the time I reached the Senator club house with my assistant, it was stuffed to capacity and we were forced to wait for quotes in the outside tunnel.

But there was nothing really that needed to be said. Only remembered.

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EDITOR'S NOTE: Last night's live "Tweet-cast" of this Game One was a rousing success. Game Two will be Tweet-casted right here TONIGHT night at 10 p.m. Eastern time, 7 Pacific, with the other games continuing at that same time through the week, and full accounts appearing on this site the following morning.

ALL KINDS OF CAPITOL FUN

October 2, 1924

WASHINGTON, D.C.—Ain't that jazzy? I gave myself a location so I can start sounding more like a big time baseball writer, seeing I'm going to be friending around with a bunch of them here the next few days and who knows, maybe Butterworth will let me write about one of the games.

Actually, I've already been here a few days, waiting for Game One of the Series tomorrow, and it's been nothing but dinners and parties. The first bash was the one on the train Tuesday night as the players and us rolled in from Boston. Thousands of Washington fans were waiting at the station, and bands were playing and ladies were so randy they were trying to grab Ossie Bluege. Cal and me the other reporters had to get off at the opposite end of the platform and race up to see all this action, and I almost got my teeth knocked in by the tweed elbow of someone's sport coat for my troubles. I heard later that Charles Dawes the Vice-President showed up, Coolidge saving himself up for Griffith Stadium no doubt, but I never saw the guy.

The next day was sunny and cool and the city looked beautiful and I couldn't believe I lived in Philadelphia and never even got down here. After going to a bunch of different Senators parades with Cal I broke off and visited the Smithsonian Institution Museum, and the brand new Lincoln Memorial, and then walked up every one of the 897 steps and fifty floors of the Washington Monument. They had an elevator but it took almost fifteen minutes to get to the top and I figured I needed the exercise, even though it nearly killed me.

They had all the press people booked at the fancy Hamilton Crowne Plaza Hotel, and there were parties in every ballroom every night. I didn't have the best clothes for them, but Cal rented me a sharp waistcoat and bow tie and passed me off as his "understudy" whatever that means. Stuck in a room with a bunch of men smoking cigars and blabbering about baseball wasn't exactly my glass of fizzer so I broke off again and snuck into a bigger room that had a jazz combo playing and some local dressed-up ladies dancing with eager men. Bucky Harris and Roger Peckinpaugh were there with their wives and it was then that I started to miss Rachel and wished I'd talked Cal into bringing her along somehow. I'm sure she had the perfect flapper outfit somewhere and could dance these women right out the glass window.

Cal had all kinds of statistical reports to look at, and when I was sitting up in my bed later, across from where Cal was snoring in his, I found the final list of run differences for all the teams this year. Earned runs instead of total ones were used for the runs allowed, so that's why the totals are higher than you'd think. Everyone made their usual ton of errors.

Washington +225
New York +123
Chicago +114
Detroit +109
Cleveland +108
Boston +63
St. Louis +41
Philadelphia –13

Pittsburgh +293
New York +266
Cincinnati +236
Brooklyn +233
Chicago +157
St. Louis +87
Philadelphia –121
Boston –301

Nice year for the Braves, huh? The Indians were much better than I expected, which I figure was due to their awful 11-34 record in 1-run games.

Finally, before I pass out for the night, here's the lineups for the first game. I can't wait!

PITTSBURGH
Carey CF
Grimm 1B
Moore RF
Cuyler LF
Smith C
Traynor 3B
Wright SS
Maranville 2B
Kremer P

WASHINGTON
Ruel C
Leibold CF
Judge 1B
Goslin LF
Rice RF
Bluege 3B
Harris 2B
Peckinpaugh SS
Johnson P

—Vinny

EDITOR'S NOTE: The 1924 World Series between Pittsburgh and Washington will be "tweet-casted" live right here beginning TONIGHT at 10 p.m. Eastern time, 7 Pacific and continuing at that time through the week, with full accounts to appear on this site the following morning.

THE END OF THINGS

September 29-30, 1924

There I was on Monday, meaning yesterday, all excited about joining Cal and seeing my first World Series, and we still had no clue where the thing was going to start. The Pirates had decided to mess up everyone's Pittsburgh reservations by starting to lose, and if they could just beat the Cubs in the last game or have Boston pounce on the Nats again, the event would open in their park.

Rachel was sad and a little angry she wasn't coming along of course, but still packed me a bag and promised to put a few sandwiches in. I told her it was Butterworth's special invitation and besides women weren't allowed in most press rows, and certainly not at the World Series. This caused her to go on a ten-minute speech about how females still weren't allowed to do anything except vote, and how that was all going to change someday soon if she had anything to do with it. I was sure she would.

To make her feel better I talked her into going out to Ebbets for the final game of the year against the Braves, a pretty good bet that Brooklyn would make 90 wins. Well, that wasn't the smartest idea. The Braves were out for revenge for some dumb reason and after Doak hit Ray Powell with the very first pitch they racked up eight hits and four runs on him in the first three and a half innings.

"I can't watch this," Rachel cried, "Take me home. I'd rather peel potatoes!" Her father was the brilliant one, giving up the game to actually work for a living. She was obviously still upset about losing the pennant, and even more upset that the Pirates now looked like garbage (They were down 4-0 in Chicago on the score board.) I took her hand, turned her face to mine, and lowered my voice.

"Don't you know why they call this a pastime? Because that's what you do. You pass the time. My lousy Phillies have lost 96 games this year, and that's with colored all-stars taking over for a whole week. How do you think me and Benny got through the whole season?"

"Because you're nuts?"

"No, because we know how to sit and enjoy the sunny afternoons and all the little things that go into watching a baseball game. Look out there now. Fournier's leading off, and he's a great hitter so every Boston infielder gets more tense right before the pitch is thrown. See that? You can use your perifery vision and just catch it. It's also the only game where the defense has the ball. And almost every game I go to, something happens I've never seen before."

For the moment, Rachel wasn't thinking of killing herself. She even smiled. And then Fournier cracked a single off Larry Benton into right. And so did Brown. And Mitchell walked. And Taylor singled. Milt Stock did, too. Bill Doak singled. Bernie Neis tripled. Andy High doubled. Rachel was standing on her seat screaming with deliriousness, eight Brooklyn runs were home, and our world was all healed up again.

And guess what else? The Cubs blanked the Bucs, Zachary and the Senators eeked out a 3-2 win at Fenway Park, and everything would come down to tomorrow's Washington game in Boston. Pittsburgh had the higher difference between runs scored and given up, meaning that if they lost and finished with the same record as the Bucs, Pittsburgh would get the advantage.

And good old Cal Butterworth was starting our big party early. He wired me to join him up in Boston for the final game, with Walter Johnson pitching, and Rachel was in such a good mood after the Ebbets game she didn't even mind seeing me off a day early.

* * *

Fenway Park was stuffed like a Thanksgiving goose for the last game, and there were even a few pockets of cranks in the stands that had come up from Washington. Cal was in great spirits and had a stool for me set up in the press row, right behind his typewriter spot.

Alex Ferguson and his 18 losses was going for Boston, and he had no chance. After Ruel walked to start the game, Clark flubbed a grounder at third and Judge singled to load the bases. Slumpy Goslin whiffed again, but Sam Rice did the almost-impossible, singling in two to put the Nats ahead and give himself 102 runs batted in with NO homers for the year. Bluege and the Train added run-scoring singles and it was 5-0 just like that.

One run for Johnson sometimes is enough, but just to make sure, the Senators added five more in the third, with Rice, Bluege, Harris, Peckinpaugh, Johnson and Ruel all reaching base before an out was made. It was a rout, folks, and Harris felt so good about things that he put Marberry in for relief after the 5th to make sure Walter had his 24th win and could start getting rested for the World Series. The Red Sox made a little bit of noise but not enough, and even their home fans were on their feet applauding in the 9th when Williams and Clark bounced out to lock up Griffith Stadium for Games One and Two.

After a rough week, Washington finished strong, and as I boarded their train car with Cal and a flock of reporters at South Station, we were starting to wonder how the Pirates would really do against these guys. Tomorrow we will begin to find out.
—Vinny

All games played in last two days:

at ROBINS 8-14-0, BRAVES 5-14-0
Doak recovers great after getting beat up early, and Fournier is on base all five times to finish off Rachel's wonderful day.

at GIANTS 8-12-3, PHILLIES 7-10-2
And my dear departed Phillies go out in typical style. Down 4-0 after one inning, they score seven times off Barnes, then lose when Hubbell and Steineder give up three in the bottom of the 8th. Stinkin' bums.

at CUBS 6-9-0, PIRATES 0-4-1
Keen mows down the pennant winners this time, as the Bucs don't score a blessed run in their last 23 innings. Hartnett homers again to end up leading the league with 31, along with 143 runs knocked in. Wanna see something strange? Look at these NL standings for September:

Cubs 20-6
Giants 21-7
Robins 17-9
Reds 15-10
Cards 13-13
Pirates 11-17
Braves 5-22
Phillies 3-22

Even stranger are the final NL standings below. What looks like a great pennant race was actually an awful one for 90 percent of the year.

REDS 9-16-1, at CARDINALS 3-9-2
Carl Mays finishes with 21 wins and Hornsby goes 1-for-4 to end up at .402. Also three Cincy triples give them 127 on the year, two more than the Bucs got.

SENATORS 3-8-0, at RED SOX 2-7-0
SENATORS 13-13-1, at RED SOX 4-6-2

at ATHLETICS 8-14-3, YANKEES 6-11-0
Pennock stinks up his bed one more time, giving up 11 hits and 8 runs to the last-place A's in just four and two-third innings and ruining the 6-game New York win streak. For extra frustration, Ruth misses a grand slam for the second straight day by about five inches.

YANKEES 7-14-1, at ATHLETICS 3-13-1
Joe Bush survives another crummy performance, Combs gets four hits, Ruth singles in his 143rd run, and the Yanks finish in a tie for third place with surprising Chicago.

EDITOR'S NOTE: The 1924 World Series between Pittsburgh and Washington will be "tweet-casted" live right here beginning Monday night at 10 p.m. Eastern time, 7 Pacific and continuing at that time through the week, with full accounts to appear on this site the following morning.

NATIONAL LEAGUE FINAL
x-Pittsburgh Pirates	92	62	.597	—
Brooklyn Robins	90	64	.584	2
New York Giants	90	64	.584	2
Cincinnati Reds	88	66	.571	4
Chicago Cubs	83	71	.539	9
St. Louis Cardinals	75	79	.487	17
Philadelphia Phillies	57	97	.370	35
Boston Braves	41	113	.267	51
AMERICAN LEAGUE FINAL
x-Washington Senators	93	61	.604	—
Detroit Tigers	83	71	.539	10
New York Yankees	81	73	.526	12
Chicago White Sox	81	73	.526	12
Boston Red Sox	72	82	.468	21
St. Louis Browns	71	83	.461	22
Cleveland Indians	69	85	.448	24
Philadelphia Athletics	66	88	.429	27

DR. BUTTERWORTH'S SERIES PROGNOSIS

By C. Jedediah Butterworth
Base Ball Freescriber

September 28, 1924

Because it will be another day before we learn which ball park I will be meeting Master Spanelli in for the World Series, I decided this would be an ample opportunity to briefly discuss the warring attributes of the two participants. In short, my fearful predictions.

FIRST BASE: Joe Judge (Wash) vs. Charlie Grimm (Pitts)

(Wait. I must rephrase that.)

Charlie Grimm (Pgh.) vs. Joe Judge (Was.)
These are the two best fielding first-sackers in the sport. Judge is a far superlative hitter, but Grimm has had his lion's share of important strikes. Still...Washington advantage.

SECOND BASE: Rabbit Maranville (Pgh.) vs. Bucky Harris (Was.)
The Senator skipper has been a sterling leader, and has driven in the second-most winning RBIs on the team after Goslin, but Maranville is his hitting and fielding match, and not averse to swatting the occasional back-breaking triple from his eighth slot in the lineup. Draw.

SHORT-STOP: Glenn Wright (Pgh.) vs. Roger Peckinpaugh (Was.)
Both men can muff balls, but both have extraordinary range and start numerous twin-killings. Both are also stronger against left-hand pitching, so with Pittsburgh starting two left-handers and Mogridge the only one for the Senators...Slight Washington advantage.

THIRD BASE: Pie Traynor (Pgh) vs. Ossie Bluege (Was.)
No contest in this corner. Fielding is even and excellent between them, but Pie is by far the better batsman...Pittsburgh advantage.

LEFT FIELD: Kiki Cuyler (Pgh.) vs. Goose Goslin (Was.)
The most valuable man in each league, and patrolling the same outfield meadow! Goslin (.328, 14, 143, 21 GWRBIs) owned the first half of the season, Cuyler (.364, 15, 140, 17 GWRBIs) the second, but Kiki is a much better flycatcher and has 31 stolen bases in 37 tries to boot...Pittsburgh advantage.

CENTER FIELD: Max Carey (Pgh.) vs. Nemo Leibold (Was.)
Carey takes this competition for his superlative speed (50-6 stealing bases) and better hitting-punch, though Leibold makes fewer errors and can get on base nearly as well...Pittsburgh advantage.

RIGHT FIELD: Eddie Moore/Clyde Barnhart (Pgh.) vs. Sam Rice (Was.)
Moore has a sizzling bat but Barnhart is weaker against portsiders. Rice does more things well, though, and if he notches one more run batted in his last two games in Boston he will finish with 100, against zero home runs...Washington advantage.

CATCHER: Earl Smith/Johnnie Gooch (Pgh.) vs. Muddy Ruel/Bennie Tate (Was.)
Smith is the most powerful and dangerous at the backstop position, but Ruel is always on base and will be instrumental in keeping Cuyler and Carey from robbing the basepath store...Washington advantage.

STARTING PITCHING: Ray Kremer, Lee Meadows, Johnny Morrison, Emil Yde (Pgh.) vs. Walter Johnson, George Mogridge, Curly Ogden, Tom Zachary.
All of these twirlers are capable of pitching suffocating games. All are also capable of being shelled, though the Big Train certainly the least likely, and he may start three of the contests. For that reason alone...Washington advantage.

RELIEF PITCHING: Babe Adams, Arnie Stone, Wilbur Cooper (Pgh.) vs. Alan Russell, Firpo Marberry, By Speece (Was.)
Adams is the cream of the crop, and Cooper joins the pack from the rotation. Russell has a rash of saves but has been plain horrible in September, and Marberry is a human heart palpitator....Pittsburgh advantage.

BENCH: The Senators are far wider and deeper, with Doc Prothro, Lance Richbourg and Earl McNeely adept with the stick. Jewel Ens and Gooch, if he isn't starting, lead a much paltrier Pirate brigade...Washington advantage.

MANAGERS: Bill McKechnie (Pgh.) vs. Bucky Harris (Wash.) One of the better battles on hand. Harris is quicker to make substitutions because he has more to draw from, but the Pirates have been getting timely hits all season no matter what order they're put in...Draw.

BALL PARKS: Forbes Field and Griffith Stadium are home run cemeteries, perfectly suited for both teams' gap-shooting attacks. Each club leads its league in triples and is near the bottom in clouts. Pittsburgh must drop its final game in Chicago and Washington must win both of theirs at Fenway to bring the home advantage to the Senators, so at this writing, the Steel City should likely prepare for the first festivities.

By my count, that is 6-4 in advantages for Washington. But nothing has gone the way it has supposed to in 1924, and I am usually a poor soothsayer, so I will lean toward the club with the probable extra home game. Pirates win in six games.

All Ball Games played today:

at CUBS 3-9-1, PIRATES 0-5-1
One of the sorriest hitting shows by the pennant winners all year, as Vic Aldridge spins his second shutout in front of the home folks. Cuyler is 0-for-4 and slumping as badly as Goslin.

BRAVES 12-16-1, at ROBINS 2-6-1
I imagine Boston became aggravated by losing 15-0 the day previous. Tiny Osborne surrenders seven hits, four walks and seven runs in his less than four innings of sickening work.

at GIANTS 9-18-0, PHILLIES 6-12-0
New York ties Brooklyn for second place as McQuillan beats Couch.

REDS 12-20-0, at CARDINALS 1-9-1
Sheehan over Haines in front of a dozen diehard denizens.

BROWNS 7-9-0, at INDIANS 3-10-1
In a final attempt to tie the Browns for sixth place, the Tribe ties the game 2-2 in the 6th, takes the lead 3-2 in the 7th, only to have St. Louis score five times in the 8th, begun with a bases-clearing triple by Herschel Bennett.

at WHITE SOX 13-18-1, TIGERS 4-7-4
All four western clubs complete their season with this game, and Detroit goes out in expected disappointing fashion. Earl Whitehill, hideous for most of the second part of the year, loses his 19th game by giving Chicago three runs in the 3rd and seven in the 4th, aided by the putrid play of Topper Rigney and others in the field. The Tigers are laid to rest in second place, but Cobb can't feel too comfortable about it.

EDITOR'S NOTE: The 1924 World Series between Pittsburgh and Washington will be "tweet-casted" live right here beginning Monday night at 10 p.m. Eastern time, 7 Pacific and continuing at that time through the week, with full accounts to appear on this site the following morning.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Sunday, September 28
x-Pittsburgh Pirates	92	61	.601	—
Brooklyn Robins	89	64	.582	3
New York Giants	89	64	.582	3
Cincinnati Reds	87	66	.569	5
Chicago Cubs	82	71	.535	10
St. Louis Cardinals	75	78	.490	17
Philadelphia Phillies	57	96	.373	35
Boston Braves	41	112	.268	51
AMERICAN LEAGUE through Sunday, September 28
x-Washington Senators	91	61	.599	—
Detroit Tigers	83	71	.539	9
New York Yankees	80	72	.526	11
Chicago White Sox	81	73	.526	11
Boston Red Sox	72	80	.474	19
St. Louis Browns	71	83	.461	21
Cleveland Indians	69	85	.448	23
Philadelphia Athletics	65	87	.428	26

CAL OF DUTY

September 27, 1924

Well, like I warned everybody, I had my job interview at Schneeberger & Sons Printers this morning over in a smelly part of New York called Queens. And either I did really good with my question-answering or they needed people awful bad because I was working in their big press room in about half an hour.

One of the Schneeberger sons did the interviewing, and I hated him in about three seconds because his hair was pasted to his head like black paint and he had these evil schoolteacher eyes that made you wonder when his paddle was coming out. His father owned the printer and knew Rachel's dad, which was why I was sitting there in the first place. When he asked me what I knew about printing I said I was a big book reader, and that didn't exactly make him happy. Nor did me telling him I was a batboy for the Phillies this past summer.

"I see," he snapped, and scratched a dark spot on his nose, "My condolences in that regard. I and most of my cohorts follow McGraw's men, you know."

Wonderful. A snotty Giants fan might be my new boss. I asked how his father came to be friends with Rachel's then. He almost smiled but thought better of it, I guess.

"Brooklyn won the season series by 13-9," he sighed, "And my father is paying off their wager by bringing you on board." He stood and held out a pasty hand. "Congratulations, boy. Follow the signs to the lower press room." It's pretty weird how baseball seems to involve itself in everything in my life, but I guess there's a lot worse things that can do that.

Anyway, about an hour later I was wishing that the Giants had won the year's series. The giant offset printer was incredibly loud, and all the press guys worked with cotton stuffed in their ears and had to talk to each other by yelling everything.

"TAKE YOUR BALLS!!" yelled the first guy who saw me, holding out a handful of cotton balls. I followed him over to what they call a plating area, which was where I'd be helping them lift the plates and get them onto the giant rollers that printed on the giant paper rolls. It was funny that all these people were working on a Saturday, but news never sleeps, and Schneeberger printed about six different local papers. I had no idea the newspaper business was thriving so much.

"NO IDIOT! THIS WAY!" That was from Scottie, the foreman of the room, who was sort of a walking tree trunk with ears and a moustache. And he was the nicest of the bunch. Most of them stared at me like I was a rat that crawled in their lunch and snickered to each other about every mistake I made. They shouldn't have been the ones to talk, though, because I swear not one of them still had five fingers on a hand.

There was a squat guy who kept ducking outside to smoke cigarettes, but sometimes he'd come back in after a long break and he'd have cigarettes to pass out to the other guys. He would also flash number signals every time with his fingers, which got me curious.

"PUDGIE'S A YANKEE FAN!" Scottie yell-told me, "POOR GUY! THEY'RE 3-3 WITH THE ATHLETICS AFTER FIVE! YOU A BALL FAN?" This time I just shook my head. It was rough enough in that room.

So I was sweating after another hour because there was hardly any air, and there was ink on my fingers and my feet hurt and my back hurt more and then Pudgie popped back in screaming at the top of his lungs. "GRAND SLAMMER FOR THE BABE!! IT'S 8-3 NOW!!" His buddies didn't seem to care and I cared even less, but at least it got everyone thinking about baseball instead of how to torture the new kid.

"JOHNSON'S TOO OLD AND ALL THE SENATORS DO IS HIT SINGLES!" yelled Scottie, "BUCS ARE GONNA STRANGLE 'EM!"

"YOU'RE WRONG!" Pudgie shouted back, "NATS HAVE GREAT PITCHING AND THE BEST FIELDING!"

"NOT LATELY" yelled somebody else, and before you knew it the bets were flying around the room. Some guy I didn't recognize came in right then and handed me a sealed envelope.

"WHAT'S THIS??"

"WESTERN UNION!"

Oh geez, not Benny again. I tore the thing open and read it:

MASTER SPANELLI:

COULD USE PROTEGE FOR WORLD SERIES. INTRIGUED? SUN TO PAY EXPENSES.

—C. J. BUTTERWORTH

I stared at the telegram in shock, then glee. Scottie tried to peek at it. "WHAZZIT SAY?"

"IT SAYS THIS—" Then I put my lips together, gave each and every one of my former Schneeberger workmates the loudest raspberry ever heard, and walked out the exit.
—Vinny

American League games played today:

YANKEES 12-15-0, at ATHLETICS 4-13-3
Schneeberger may have lost a man today but at least Pudgie won his game. Actually, it's six in a row for the Bronxers, as they finally take third place from Chicago. After the Bambino's slam in the 6th they score four more in the 9th off Rollie Naylor.

at RED SOX 16-13-2, SENATORS 7-14-2
Somehow I don't got a good feeling about Washington winning the Series. Not after this. Curly Ogden gets his last chance for a 20th win and pitches horrible, giving up eight walks, but still going out with a 7-3 lead in the 8th. Guess what "reliever" Alan Russell does? Walk-double-single-walk-walk. Guess what By Speece then does? Bases-clearing triple-single-balk-single. Guess what Slim McGrew then does? Walk-two-base Rice error-two straight doubles. Yup, Boston scores THIRTEEN times in the 8th to take the game and keep the Nats a full game behind Pittsburgh for the best record. Wow.

TIGERS 13-12-1, at WHITE SOX 3-4-4
Collins makes up for his big loss vs. the Yanks by shutting the White Sox down after giving Hooper a 3-run homer in the 1st. Rip finishes the year at 26-5. Without him, Detroit is a second division team.

at INDIANS 8-11-1, BROWNS 4-10-1
Shaute beats Van Gilder, clinching last place for Philadelphia and 5th for the Red Sox. With both Williams and Jacobson out for the year, St. Louis never has a chance here.

EDITOR'S NOTE: The 1924 World Series between Pittsburgh and Washington will be "tweet-casted" live right here beginning Monday night at 10 p.m. Eastern time, 7 Pacific and continuing at that time through the week, with full accounts to appear on this site the following morning. That is all.

AMERICAN LEAGUE through Saturday, September 27
x-Washington Senators	91	61	.599	—
Detroit Tigers	83	70	.542	8.5
New York Yankees	80	72	.526	11
Chicago White Sox	80	73	.523	11.5
Boston Red Sox	72	80	.474	19
St. Louis Browns	70	83	.458	21.5
Cleveland Indians	69	84	.451	22.5
Philadelphia Athletics	65	87	.428	26

A GRAND PIRATE PARADE

CITY CELEBRATES FIRST BUCCANEER FLAG SINCE 1909

September 27, 1924

By C. Jedediah Butterworth
Base Ball Freescriber

PITTSBURGH—Returning to the city where I was fiendishly apprehended just three weeks ago is not an easy task, but I have good reason, and the reason is enough to assuage all nerves.

It is a parade for the hometown Pirates, Champions of the National League, valiant liquidators of the Robins, Giants and Reds. Mixing a lethal combination of punctual hitting, tough pitching, on-base speed and impeccable fielding (their 210 double plays turned are 33 more than their nearest competitor) they are more than deserving of the cheers and gifts bestowed upon them here as they roll through leafy Schenley Park in open autos on this gloriously crisp day.

Ahead in the distance is Forbes Field, afflutter with flags, where they will host Chicago in their final home game before accompanying the Cubs to Illinois for the last two skirmishes. They will then either return here or move on to the Nation's Capitol for the start of the World Series, and that choice will be determined in these final days, as Washington is nipping at the Pirate heels for the best record.

Goodness! Manager McKechnie just received a flower bouquet from the Mayor. Kiki Cuyler, despite his poor bat-showing in New York, still garners a few kisses from young female fans, and a brass band plays on a raised scaffold for the passing, conquering heroes.

The game that follows at Forbes is an out-and-out thriller, matching Tony Kauffman against Emil Yde, and the Bucs prove throughout why they're being called the "Draperies of Steel." Chicago plates a pair in the 1st on four straight two-out singles, but the Pirates swing right back onto the ship with two of their own. helped by a butchered ball at second by Grantham. Yde walks the first three batters in the Cub 4th, and a deep fly and Friberg single make it 4-2 for them, but here come the Pirates again! Smith doubles to open matters, Traynor singles him in, Maranville singles with one retired and the home horde rises as one to cheer on the inevitable explosion.

But this time Kauffman gets Yde on strikes, Carey on a ground ball, and the 4-3 Chicago lead is safely intact.

For the Pittsburgh bench, it must be a relief to look up on the outfield score board, see both Brooklyn and New York winning easily, and not even care. They make brave efforts to take the game the rest of the way, but Cuyler, the power source in the heart of their offensive machine all season, is still in one of his almost non-existent slumps. He now is without a hit in his last three games, his average has "tumbled" to .366, and he offers little today with an 0-for-3 showing after a scoring fly in the 1st.

Yet the Buccaneers are never dull, even in defeat. When Yde loads the bases with Cubs in the top of the 9th, Babe Adams takes over to face Hack Miller. Hack rips one to Wright at short, who fires home to begin a giddily sweet double play. The brutal Hartnett is then walked to re-fill the sacks, and Butch Weis whiffs. A Rabbit double with one out in the Pirate 9th rekindles the crowd, but Kauffman is allowed to bail himself out, and gets Jewel Ens on a fly and Carey on a pop.

The Forbes gathering is disappointed, but only for ten seconds. Then they stand, toss their hats, and cheer their pennant winners as loudly as they can to keep their ears ringing all the way to Chicago.

For my own part, I am still undecided about whether to accompany them and collect thoughts from the Pirate players in the days prior to the championship series. I could also got to Boston and speak to Bucky Harris and his Senators. I stare at the New York Sun press ticket in my hand that will gain me access for the entire World Series, and realize I've been given an extra one. Bonnie could leave the wee ones with her sister, and be my companion.

Or I could bring a friend...

CHC 200 200 000 - 4 9 2
PGH 200 100 000 - 3 8 0

Other National League games today:

at ROBINS 15-21-1, BRAVES 0-5-0
Coming immediately after their close, pennant-vanquishing loss to Chicago with Vance on the hill, you could have wagered your house on this result.

at GIANTS 8-14-0, PHILLIES 3-7-1
That goes for this one, as well. Jimmy Ring has no rival when it comes to ineptitude, dropping his record to 6-22 with a godawful showing that begins with an opening triple to Frankie Frisch.

CARDINALS 11-17-1, at REDS 2-8-0
Belive it or not, this is a 2-1 lead for Luque and Cincinnati going into the 8th. Bottomley ties it with a double, Pedro Dibut relieves his Cuban countryman, and NINE Cardinal runs cross the plate off him in the 9th to ruin the Redleg dream of reaching second place.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Saturday, September 27
x-Pittsburgh Pirates	92	60	.605	—
Brooklyn Robins	89	63	.586	3
New York Giants	88	64	.579	4
Cincinnati Reds	86	66	.566	6
Chicago Cubs	81	71	.533	11
St. Louis Cardinals	75	77	.493	17
Philadelphia Phillies	57	95	.375	35
Boston Braves	40	112	.263	52

IS THEIR LIFE AFTER DRAMA?

September 25 & 26, 1924

We may as well have been standing over a grave. That's how quiet lunches and dinners at Rachel's house have been the last two days. Even her little brother and sister knew not to make too much noise while their dad was staring into his bowl of beef barley soup.

"That 8th inning the other day?" he mumbled to anyone who was listening, but probably more to himself, "Dazzy had maybe two innings like that all season. And that's the time he picks for the third one?" I carefully reminded him that the Robins still had to win most of the rest of their games, but Saul wouldn't listen.

"That is the entire point. We could have. All we have left is three at home with the Braves while Pittsburgh gets the Cubs. If we win that last game it is definitely and figuratively possible!"

Rachel was still too sad to even mumble, and she coped with the depressing feelings after dinner by starting to write another novel. I didn't ask what this one was going to be about, but I'm sure there's a character from Pittsburgh who will get murdered pretty early.

Her father has been working on finding me a job at a printer through friends of his, and tomorrow I'm supposed to go and get interviewed, so most of tonight I spent looking through my clothes for something presenting to wear while Rachel scribbled on notepads across the room.

I suppose I'd be as sad as her if the Phillies just missed out on a league pennant, but from watching her and her dad I'm not sure I'm looking forward to actually being in a race. At least Saul had more of an excuse. He had to see Brooklyn lose the World Series only four years ago and four years before that.

"Vinny? I could really go for a cup of tea."

I told Rachel that's nice, why don't you go down and get one, but I knew in two seconds that was the wrong thing to say. She ripped a page out of her writing notebook, crumpled and threw it in my direction.

"If you'd rather stand in front of the mirror then look at me, you can forget taking me to that play tonight."

I said I thought she didn't want to go in the first place but then she said she changed her mind, so I said you're not allowed to just change your mind all the time, and she said she had every right to.

"Is this why we got married? To have stupid fights??" I yelled, and it suddenly got real quiet downstairs.

"i cannot talk to you when you scream at me."

"Fine." And then I was grabbing my coat and tramping out of the house for a nice relaxing walk in the early Autumn air.

Geez, we'd been married for how long now? Two weeks? Her father was more than right before at the dinner table, and it was the same thing I told Butterworth at the egg cream place: Another day of pennant drama can make everything feel better.

So how are we going to make it through the winters?
—Vinny

Thrilling and Meaningless Ball Games played in the last two days:

at PHILLIES 13-19-1, CARDINALS 5-12-0
Hey, look at this! The Phils win their third game in September by scoring eight runs in the first two innings off Bill Sherdel and hanging on the rest of the way.

REDS 7-20-1, at BRAVES 2-9-1
Somehow when you knock out twenty hits you'd think you'd score more than seven runs, but the Reds will take them any way they can, as they even have a shot at second place now.

at RED SOX 13-14-2, SENATORS 8-15-1
I sure don't see the Bucs having nightmares over their upcoming series with Washington. The Nats fall behind 5-1 to Quinn, score six unearned runs after a 2-out botch by Flagstead, only to see Mogridge get creamed for eight more runs. George has now lost seven of his last eight starts, and after Johnson and Ogden, the Senators suddenly have some real pitcher problems.

YANKEES 4-14-0, at ATHLETICS 2-10-1 (10 innings)
Nice for the Yanks to go on a winning streak right after being eliminated. Scott and Hoyt get run-scoring singles in the 10th after a key error by Dykes. Again, they would have taken over third place if not for...

at WHITE SOX 15-20-1, TIGERS 14-20-2
Yup. Chicago goes on another late hitting rampage and wins a game they have no business winning. Leave it to crappy-pitching Detroit. Bert Cole, who I seem to remember retiring all 20 Yankees he faced in relief on the day the Tigers got knocked out of the race, gets rewarded by Cobb with his own start, then thanks his manager by giving the Sox seven runs in the 1st despite going out there with a 3-0 lead. And then it gets worse. Detroit roars back with eleven straight runs, takes a 14-9 lead to the 8th and loses the game anyway when Hooks Dauss soils his breeches.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Friday, September 26
x-Pittsburgh Pirates	92	59	.609	—
Brooklyn Robins	88	63	.583	4
New York Giants	87	64	.576	5
Cincinnati Reds	86	65	.570	6
Chicago Cubs	80	71	.530	12
St. Louis Cardinals	74	77	.490	18
Philadelphia Phillies	57	94	.377	35
Boston Braves	40	111	.265	52
AMERICAN LEAGUE through Friday, September 26
x-Washington Senators	91	60	.603	—
Detroit Tigers	82	70	.539	9.5
Chicago White Sox	80	72	.526	11.5
New York Yankees	79	72	.523	12
Boston Red Sox	71	80	.470	20
St. Louis Browns	70	82	.461	21.5
Cleveland Indians	68	84	.447	23.5
Philadelphia Athletics	65	86	.430	26

DAZZY DUZZN'T

CATASTROPHE AT EBBETS AND POLO GROUNDS NIGHTMARE FINISH OFF THE NATIONAL LEAGUE

September 24, 1924

By C. Jedediah Butterworth and Vincenzo Spanelli
Base Ball Freescribers

All tension has been severed. The races in both leagues are over, and the Pirates of Pittsburgh will face the Senators of Washington in the 1924 World Series. The two climactic National games, like most of them this past week, were maddening spectacles, and our unlikely pair of documentarians met over egg creams at one of Louis Auster's soda fountains in Brooklyn this evening to discuss what they had just seen...

Spanelli: I should've gone to the Polo Grounds, damn it all. At least I could've watched McGraw lose. Instead I had to deal with Rachel blubbering into my shirt the last two innings.

Butterworth: Trust me when I tell you she will recover from her depression, my son. All true ball fans do when the budding trees come back around.

Spanelli: Yeah, well...it stunk like a dung pile anyway. And I'm not your son.

Butterworth: Shall I begin or should you?

Spanelli: You start. I can't even talk about it.

Butterworth: Fair enough. Honestly, it did seem as if another miracle day might occur early on. The Giants notched a 2nd inning run on Cuyler's dropped fly, while over at Ebbets Brooklyn had that early 1-0 lead—

Spanelli: I know! And Dazzy was pitching! And like I've said before, Dazzy always knows what to do, and eight of them Cubs screwed themselves into the ground whiffing on that curve of his in the first seven—

Butterworth: Would you care to let me finish?

Spanelli: Oh. Right. Sorry Cal...

Butterworth: So then the 4th inning began. And two of the three chief disappointments all season for New York went to work on the home crowd's spirits. I'm talking about shortstop Travis Jackson, who flubbed yet another grounder to keep a two-out Pirate rally going, and pitcher Jack Bentley—

Spanelli: I've seen him before. He's an ingrate.

Butterworth: Um, yes...Who proceeded to give up a 2-run double to Wright and single to Maranville and the Giants trailed just like that.

Spanelli: The Bucs have done that all year, y'know. Smash your whole china collection if you drop one teacup on the floor. Hey, that was kind of metaphorish, wasn't it?

Butterworth: Why yes. And then with Wilbur Cooper inexplicably mystifying enemy hitters again, it was time to bring the 1924 curtain down with the final George Kelly hitting tragedy of the year.

Spanelli: Really? Seems like his damn pants have been on fire.

Butterworth: His bat, perhaps. His bat. But never against Pittsburgh. With one out in the last of the 6th and his team trailing 4-1 after a Max Carey home run, Kelly rapped into a double play with the bases loaded and ended the inning. With two outs and two aboard in the 8th, he grounded into a force.

Spanelli: In the meantime Vance has a 2-0 lead going to the 8th after another Zack Wheat homer, and if anyone can hold a skinny lead it's Dazzy. But no, damn it. Not today. Gabby Hartnett rips a triple to start the 8th, Weis doubles, Hollocher singles and Rachel and her dad are screaming and ready to slice their own necks open and the crowd around us is even more insane, and then Grigsby works a walk with one out, Friberg beats out this cheap single and then the worst thing of all happens. Grantham grounds a double play chance to Wes Stock at third but the ball bounces off his groin or something and the go-ahead Cubs run scores! It was horrible!

Butterworth: Hmm. Eerily similar to some of Rip Collins' recent tragedies—

Spanelli: No, you're wrong. Dazzy just duzzn't!

Butterworth: Master Spanelli! You are beginning to sound like a Brooklyn fan.

Spanelli: No, I'm just a baseball fan. A pennant race fan. Just like you. And I wanted one more day of one.

Butterworth: Yes, but we still have a scintillating race for the best record in the game, haven't we? And a World Series that is bound to excite! And I can guarantee they are dancing in the streets in the western half of your home state this very moment.

Spanelli: Tell that to Rachel and her father. Which reminds me, I need to go over there now and peel them off the floor.

Butterworth: And pass up a second egg cream?

Spanelli: Well...

CHC 000 000 030 - 3 6 1
BRK 001 001 000 - 2 5 1

PGH 000 301 000 - 4 10 1
NYG 010 000 000 - 1 6 1

Other Ball Games today:

REDS 6-16-1, at BRAVES 1-5-1
Hardly worth mentioning, except for the fact it is Mays' 20th win and the Braves 110th loss.

CARDINALS 4-8-1, at BRAVES 3-10-2
Even more not worth mentioning.

at WHITE SOX 2-8-0, SENATORS 1-3-1
It's Firpo and Sloppy, sounding like a burlesque team, but Thurston notches his 22nd win with a beautiful effort. Falk's 8th inning triple decides it.

YANKEES 4-14-1, at INDIANS (12 innings)
The Yanks stay a mere half game out of third place with a tough elongated affair at League Park. Ruth goes 0-for-5 but the rest of his mates pick him up with a hit barrage, including four doubles from Earle Combs.

ATHLETICS 10-14-1, at BROWNS 6-11-2
The Mackmen make it a clean sweep of St. Louis, and still have a chance to catch the Indians for seventh place. Sam Gray struggles here yet Danforth pitches far worse.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Wednesday, Sept. 24
x-Pittsburgh Pirates	92	59	.609	—
Brooklyn Robins	88	63	.583	4
New York Giants	87	64	.576	5
Cincinnati Reds	85	65	.567	6.5
Chicago Cubs	80	71	.530	12
St. Louis Cardinals	74	76	.493	17.5
Philadelphia Phillies	56	94	.373	35.5
Boston Braves	40	110	.267	51.5
AMERICAN LEAGUE through Wednesday, Sept. 24
x-Washington Senators	91	59	.607	—
Detroit Tigers	82	69	.543	9.5
Chicago White Sox	79	72	.523	12.5
New York Yankees	78	72	.520	13
Boston Red Sox	70	80	.467	21
St. Louis Browns	70	82	.461	22
Cleveland Indians	68	84	.447	24
Philadelphia Athletics	65	85	.433	26

A FORMER HERO DISGRACED, A NEW ONE BORN

YOUNGSTER TERRY'S TITANIC BLAST SPELLS DOOM FOR PLUMMETING BUCCANEERS

September 23, 1924

By C. Jedediah Butterworth
Base Ball Freescriber

A full day of dashing around Gotham was too much for this reporter to bear, so it was a pleasure to drop into my comfortable, non-rolling chair in the Polo Grounds press row today.

Pittsburgh had lost three straight games, a marvel in itself, and Lee Meadows was tabbed to finish McGraw's Giants off once and for all. Across town at Ebbets Field, my young protege Spanelli was taking in the second Cubs-Robins game, and hopefully enjoying himself. His father offered to send me scoring missives by carrier pigeon, a daft notion to be sure, and I needed to remind them that the facility here would be keeping us fully abreast of the adjoining action.

Virgil Barnes toed the slab for New York, and while he's been as inconsistent as most of the Giant twirlers, he is capable of a good effort. This was surely one of those. Six Pirates struck singles in the first six innings, yet only one tally was across the dish on a scoring fly by Maranville.

For the Giants, a Travis Jackson single in the 4th knotted the game, and an ill-timed boot by Traynor with the bases loaded and two outs in the the 5th put the home nine ahead 2-1. This came only minutes after Giant right field roamer Youngs snared an Earl Smith home run attempt at the lip of the fence.

It was then that the crowd, forced to root for their arch rivals whether they enjoyed it or not, cheered loudly when it was discovered that Brown had socked a 3-run wallop to erase a 3-0 Chicago lead and put Brooklyn ahead 4-3 after three innings. Was another miracle in the offing?

It didn't appear to be, for Carey, Grimm, and Moore all struck hits off Barnes with one out in the 6th and we were knotted 2-2. Up stepped Cuyler, the King of the National League for certain, yet owner of just one hit in his last 15 times up since his huge opening performance in Brooklyn.

Typewriters and voices muted around me, over twenty thousand fans leaned closer to the field. Barnes wound, threw, and Kiki lifted a harmless truffle of a fly into the waiting glove of Hack Wilson in center. Earl Smith dribbled out and it remained tied.

Then came one of the grander moments of 1924. After O'Connell and Kelly made out to begin the Giant 6th, Youngs reached on a Lee Meadows walk. Wilson doubled him to third, and rookie Bill Terry strode up. The reports on this slugging imp have been promising, but McGraw has been slow to utilize him, and chose this day only because of Meadows' problems with left-side stickers.

Terry proved that on the very first pitch, propelling the ball on a monstrous arc into the throbbing right field bleachers for a 5-2 lead!! Spanelli's account of yesterday's hat-flying with Wheat's winning blow may have been surpassed here. The entire Polo Grounds shook with glee. The heroics by Terry were critical, for George Kelly has reverted to the punchless effort he turned in for the majority of the season. Four out of the five times he batted with men aboard, yet supplied nothing but two whiffs and three groundballs, one a twin-killing.

Barnes ran into difficulty in the 8th, but Jonnard and then Dean entered to save his hide. By the time the game climaxed, a 5-3 Brooklyn win in the nearby borough confirmed the seemingly impossible. A team had actually closed to within three games of first place, the Giants still breathing one behind them, with four games remaining for all. If this scenario repeats itself in tomorrow's finales, not one smidgen of work will be done in this city for days.

PGH 000 100 110 - 3 11 2
NYG 000 110 31x - 6 11 1

Other ball games today:

at ROBINS 5-9-0, CUBS 3-7-0
An unlikely hero also emerged on Flatbush Avenue. Dutch Ruether, banished to the bullpen months ago, takes Decatur's slot and throws a complete game victory, with Vance on the horizon for tomorrow.

REDS 1-7-1, at BRAVES 0-6-0
Rube Benton is now an astonishing 10-0 for the Redlegs, who are saving face themselves with a recent spurt of winning against the league's offal.

CARDINALS 11-16-1, at PHILLIES 1-8-0
A fine day of mound-work turned in by Bill Hubbell: four triples, two doubles and a homer allowed. Not even Boston has been playing as badly as the Quakers of late.

YANKEES 8-9-1, at INDIANS 4-11-2
After a long drought of power, Ruth smacks home run number 47 off Luther Roy and the Yanks avenge their earlier shutout against the same hurler in a win that would be far easier if not for Herb Pennock's fetish for issuing two-out safeties.

at TIGERS 13-15-1, RED SOX 7-10-3
On "Appreciate the Fans Day" at Navin Field, the Tigers close out their home agenda by storming back from a 6-0 disadvantage in the 3rd with consecutive five-run outbursts against 19-game loser Ferguson.

SENATORS 3-10-0, at WHITE SOX 1-4-1
Walter Johnson's 24th win is a 4-hit gem. Goslin is still not hitting, but the Nats move a half game in front of the Pirates for home ball park advantage in the World Series.

ATHLETICS 7-16-1, at BROWNS 3-16-1 (12 innings)
St. Louis comes back from 3-0 to tie Rommel and send the game into extra frames, but Pruett gives the A's four in the 12th and Jacobson is injured for the duration of the year. Huzzahs for a fine season, Baby Doll!

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Tuesday, September 23
Pittsburgh Pirates	91	59	.607	—
Brooklyn Robins	88	62	.587	3
New York Giants	87	63	.580	4
Cincinnati Reds	84	65	.564	6.5
Chicago Cubs	79	71	.527	12
St. Louis Cardinals	73	76	.490	17.5
Philadelphia Phillies	56	93	.376	34.5
Boston Braves	40	109	.268	50.5
AMERICAN LEAGUE through Tuesday, September 23
x-Washington Senators	91	58	.611	—
Detroit Tigers	82	69	.543	10
Chicago White Sox	78	72	.520	13.5
New York Yankees	77	72	.517	14
Boston Red Sox	70	80	.467	21.5
St. Louis Browns	70	81	.464	22
Cleveland Indians	68	83	.450	24
Philadelphia Athletics	64	85	.430	26