A WHISKER AWAY FROM A DONNYBROOK

August 18, 1924

Our train compartments got real quiet as we pulled into Union Station this morning. Biz Mackey was joking with a few other players, but mostly we were all just getting grips on our bags, thinking how the people of St. Louis would welcome us after the three-day pasting we gave the Cubs.

The humidness here hit us like a brick wall the second we walked outside, and we saw a few pickup trucks with creepy muscled guys rolling by. We moved fast to the curb, hopped in taxicabs and scooted over to the Ville section in northwest St. Louis. Benny and Rube were waiting for me, Oscar, and Cy at Roy's house, where him and his great wife Lucille had agreed to put us up and cook.

If Roy was a saint then Lucille was Mary herself. This woman served a pork roast for early lunch that just about dove off its bone, along with fresh greens and potatoes and the best lemonade we ever had. All with her three little boys to feed, too. Some people are just put on earth to remind us of home, I guess.

At the table we talked about the weird situation we were in, and what to do about it. Cardinals president Sam Breadon had wired Rube with his worries about possible fan violence at Sportsman's Park if we whacked his team around like we did the Cubs, even though the St. Louis fans were "giddy with sinful delight" over us beating up their arch rivals.

Rube's idea of the day was for Oscar to start almost all right-handed hitters in the lineup because Cards starter Jesse Haines had big trouble facing lefties, and for our pitcher Big Bill Foster—Rube's half brother—to "go easy on 'em" to keep the home fans excited. Oscar wasn't nuts about the plan, and didn't think Big Bill would go along. "Don't you fret, darlin'," said Rube, "The boy's nineteen years younger than me and he's gonna listen."

Well, either Judy Johnson didn't listen or he just didn't care, because he murdered Haines' first pitch into left for a single. The colored pavilion in right field was so stuffed there were fans on top of its roof, and with Judy's hit the whole thing shook like it was going to fall apart. It was strange, because the entire rest of the park was plumb quiet, and it got quieter when Oscar ripped a double to send Judy to third. Charleston was the only regular lefty we had in the lineup, which he figured he could get away with because he was the player-manager, but the Cards didn't seem happy about any of this. Nobody likes to have someone help them win because that's a pride-killer, and after we took a 1-0 lead on a deep Tubby fly, St. Louis went to town on Big Bill.

Taylor Douthit spit in his hands and gapped a double right off. Jack Smith did the same thing in the other direction and the game was tied after two Cards batters. Big Bill had thrown his lazy curves like his older half brother told him to, but he'd had enough of that and bonked Ray Blades on the hip with the next pitch. Ray glared out at him, the white crowd unleashed bloody screams, but the umpire got in Blades' face and calmed him down. The ump forgot about the next two batters, though, because Hornsby and Bottomley both hit killer singles and the Cards had a 3-1 lead!

Our dugout was nothing but a pit of angry snakes, and Cy and me couldn't even get a word in. Some of the players thought us falling behind was a good thing to keep the crowd at bay, but Oscar and Big Bill were embarrassed and let everyone know until half the bench was shouting at each other. Big Bill, who happens to be a switcher, went up to the left side of the plate with a man on and clubbed a Haines pitch into the right corner for a scoring double.

Blades singled in a run right back to put them up 4-2, but that just got out innards boiling again. Oscar led with a single, and after Scales and Beckwith made outs, Mule Suttles doubled, Dobie Moore tripled, and the game was tied 4-4.

That's when the first empty pop bottle flew past Suttles' head in left field. Mule turned and looked at the stands, where two colored-hating idiots were standing and cursing and holding up rope nooses. Mule looked like he was going to jump in the stands and beat them to death with his mitt but he didn't have time to because Cooney hit a ball out to him which he had to flag down and catch.

The scoring stopped for the next two and a half innings, the right side of the park cheering the left side snarling, and then Bullet Joe Rogan walked with one out in the Black Phillie 6th. Rev Cannady, playing first base instead of Jud Wilson, then poked a deep fly that just made it over the left fence to give us a 6-4 lead. Two fans jumped out of the stands, knocked me down in the coach box and tried to tackle Rev as he got close to home plate but Cy ran over from first and held them off.

Policemen arrested the fans, but the pop bottle olympics started up again when we took the field and didn't let up. Hornsby crushed a homer in the 7th to make it 6-5 and shut the white fans up for a time, but when Big Bill rapped into a double play in the top of the 8th to probably kill our next rally, someone stood up behind our dugout and yelled, "Nice hit, Sambo!" when he jogged back in.

This wired our bench like a bolt of summer lightning. Judy Johnson singled. So did Oscar. Tubby Scales hit a ball that I think is still going. Beckwith and Suttles singled and Hi Bell took over for the beaten-up Haines. Moore doubled off him and we were up 10-5 and trash was falling from the sky. It took fifteen minutes to clean up the place and then the Cards got two runs back with three singles and a double. Dark green thunderstorm clouds circled the park and I was wishing for them to split open.

Then Big Bill had to go and drop down a bunt with a man on in the 9th. Judy Johnson singled and Johnny Stuart's next pitch almost hit Oscar in the head. Charleston got up and yelled something at Stuart and both teams began jawing. A half-eaten sausage roll knocked my hat off. We wouldn't get out of town alive, I was sure of it.

And then the most incredible thing happened: The St. Louis manager saved the day. Branch Rickey, an ex-player and smart religious fellow who served in the 1st Gas Regiment during the War, used to be the Cards' president and now runs the field team, walked out to Charleston in his spotless white uniform and shook his hand. Then he went over to Judy Johnson on first base and shook his hand. Then he went over to our dugout and shook the hand of every colored player on the bench before going back to his dugout.

Nobody knew what to make of this. But it was clear that he approved of the coloreds being here and made the dumber fans in the crowd feel even dumber, and that the game needed to be finished or he might even pull his players off and forfeit the game.

So Big Bill got through all nine innings without being shot. Our "weak" right-handed lineup still got 18 hits and won by four runs. But all of us were too shaken to celebrate much as we took our separate taxis back to the Ville. We sat and played cards most of the night, waiting to hear breaking glass or shotgun blasts or something even uglier like those 1917 riots here pass through the neighborhood, but it was just plain quiet.

Someone oughta give that Rickey guy a bigger baseball job sometime.
—Vinny

BLACK PHILLIES
112 002 041 - 11 18 1
CARDINALS
310 000 120 - 7 15 1

Other National League games today:

ROBINS 5-13-1, at PIRATES 2-6-1
The hugest win of the year for Brooklyn, by far. Vance whiffs 12 Bucs to give him 207 for the year, Wheat homers and Fournier doubles and singles off Kremer, and if Grimes beats them tomorrow the Pirate lead will be under five games for the first time in over a month.

at CUBS 11-13-3, BRAVES 4-11-2
Happy to see us leave town, Chicago takes it out on the pathetic Braves, Grantham smacking a 3-run shot off Genewich to break up a tie game in the 5th.

at REDS 5-9-1, GIANTS 4-7-2
No surprises here. RIxey wins again, and the Giants come back late from 5-0 to score four runs and tease both of their remaining fans again.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Monday, August 18
Pittsburgh Pirates	74	40	.649	—
Brooklyn Robins	70	47	.598	5.5
Cincinnati Reds	69	48	.590	5.5
New York Giants	62	53	.539	12.5
St. Louis Cardinals	56	59	.487	18.5
Chicago Cubs	55	60	.478	19.5
Philadelphia Phillies	46	71	.393	29.5
Boston Braves	31	85	.267	44

BATTLE ROYALE IN GRIFFITH'S YARD

RIP COLLINS IS FIRST TO 20 VICTORIES, THOUGH HARDLY INVINCIBLE

August 17, 1924

By C. Jedediah Butterworth
Base Ball Freescriber

WASHINGTON—I have no stomach today for Coolidge queries from my cohorts, nor venomous stares from a certain star center-fielder, so with absolute pleasure I take in the most exciting game of the season from a cozy upper deck seat behind third base.

Senator fans around me are exuberant but polite, as they should be with their team 11 games ahead, yet after losing yesterday's tight spectacle, the second place Detroiters are eager for vengeance. Fortunate for them, Ripper Collins is on the hill and gunning for win number 20, so the odds are well in their favor.

Washington "counters" with one Joe Martina, a sad sack of a hurler who has yet to locate one victory, almost as if manager Harris is waving a white flag in Collins' face before the teams have even taken the turf. And Martina doesn't alter anyone's viewpoint. A single to Burke leading off the Tiger 3rd, Rigney walk, Manush double and Heilman's 10th homer put the visitors up 4-0 and bring on the local grumbles. After Blue and Jones single to open the 4th, Burke bails Martina out with a double play ball, but a Bassler walk and third Blue single in the 5th forces Harris to relieve Faulty Joe from his duties and possibly his rotation spot.

Collins takes the four-run lead to the last of the 6th with Judge and Goslin 1st inning singles the only blemish on his face. It is here that the base ball dieties conspire to amaze us once again, for without warning, like a late summer squall, the drama spins completely out of control. Wid Mathews bats for relief man Zahniser and grounds out meekly. Then Leibold singles. Then Harris triples. Then Judge doubles. Then Goslin, Rice, and Tate all single. Bluege pops out but Peckinpaugh and Mathews (batting again) single. The Senators have roared ahead 6-4 and Collins only escapes because Peckinpaugh is eliminated at the plate on a bullet throw from Cobb with two outs.

Pitching has been Detroit's bane all season, but today the proud swatters will not be undone. With Russell now twirling for the home nine, Rigney and Manush crack singles with one out the next inning. Bassler walks with two gone and Bassler laces a deep triple to score all three runs and put us back up 7-6!

It is now Joe Judge's turn to overrule the fates, as he propels Rip's first 7th inning pitch on a line over the right field advertisements for a 7-7 tie! Collins visibly tires after two singles with two out, but Cobb is terrified of his bullpen work of late, and leaves his ace on the job to get that 20th ducat.

For an inning or two it doesn't seem possible. Rigney singles to lead the Tiger 9th, but is erased at the dish trying to score on Manush's following double. Blue goes 5-5 with another single in the 10th, but Jones bounces into a twin-killing.

No, with light waning and Senator fans complaining, it is up to Cobb to walk with one retired in the 11th, pilfer the second base bag, and score on a two-out smoking single from the once-again uncanny Manush.

With the Griffith cranks on their feet, certain the top of the Nats lineup can score once more off the tired Ripper, Collins walks Leibold to start the home 11th. But after Harris bunts him up, Judge and Goslin sky out in harmless fashion, and the biggest Tiger win of the year is in the books.

I erred recently in calling this a two-game visit. The third and last showdown here will take place tomorrow, with Whitehill facing off against the often air-tight Curly Ogden.

DET 004 000 300 01 - 8 14 0
WAS 000 006 100 00 - 7 14 0

Only other American League game today:

WHITE SOX 4-11-1, at YANKEES 3-10-0
The worst Yankee team in recent memory resumes their torpid slide into the abyss. Despite a two-run Ruth homer off Sarge Connally in the 5th that knots the game, Herb Pennock turns in another useless outing, giving the Sox two triples and a single in the 7th, and New York leaves the bases loaded the last two innings, the latter time after filling the squares with nobody out and having Mike Cvengros retire Meusel, Schang and Dugan with nary a whimper.

AMERICAN LEAGUE through Sunday, August 17
Washington Senators	74	44	.627	—
Detroit Tigers	65	55	.542	10
Chicago White Sox	60	57	.513	13.5
New York Yankees	57	59	.491	16
St. Louis Browns	57	60	.487	16.5
Boston Red Sox	54	62	.466	19
Cleveland Indians	52	66	.441	22
Philadelphia Athletics	51	67	.432	23

LIVE WITH SHOE POLISH OR DIE

August 17, 1924

The Black Phils might have been welcome to play at Cubs Park the last two days, but the big hotels in town still wouldn't put them up. Which is why we were holed up at the Esquire in the Bronzeville section of South Chicago when word got to us this morning that Al Capone wasn't happy.

Benny showed up at my room in two minutes, sweating like a death row prisoner. We'd already messed with Capone twice this year, the last time almost getting us killed out on Lake Michigan, and if Capone knew we had anything to do with the Charleston Boys rubbing out his favorite ball team, there'd be hell to pay and we'd be the first ones cashed in.

Lucky for us, Rube Foster had another one of his famous plans. "My shoeshine buddy Nips over on Wabash stocked me up with enough brown Kiwi to Negro-fy Jefferson Davis, so Benny darlin', all you gotta do is stay in a seat five miles away from that monster mobster heel." I hated the idea of wearing a disguise until Rube reminded me that Capone was away on some special heel business and missed the first two games or we might already be dead.

The Kiwi polish was sticky and smelled awful, but Roy did a great job putting it on my face and neck and hands, so by the time I ran out to the third base coaching box in the top of the 1st, I almost believed my name was Cool Papa Spanelli.

The other Big Rube Idea was to let up on the Cubs today to keep from riots starting or baseball shutting us down or Capone pulling out his gun. So Charleston started Judy Johnson at third and Rev Cannady at second instead of Jud Wilson and Tubby Scales, and he also gave bashers Turkey Stearnes and Mule Suttles the day off.

We got a run off Elmer Jacobs anyway right off the bat when Heathcote kicked around a leadoff single from Bell and Oscar scored him with a fly. I looked over at slimy Capone in his front row seat and saw him fold his arms and bark at the goons sitting next to him.

Cannonball Redding was firing for us, but he wasn't as fast as the last time I'd seen him and four Cub singles in the 1st scored two and got Capone out of his seat clapping. I was relieved for the first time in three days. Would we have a real game?

Umm...nope. Bullet Joe Rogan led our 2nd with a single. Johnson got one, too, and after Cannady grounded them over, Jacobs flubbed a weak dribbler by Biz Mackey to tie the game 2-2. Cannonball then blasted one high over the left bleachers for three runs, another dead quiet crowd and the sight of Al Capone tearing his program in half and tossing it on the field. When Charleston walked and Dobie Moore homered, it was 7-2 and a third straight Chicago massacre was off and running.

The boos were louder than I'd ever heard. The sweltery heat was starting to melt the polish off my face and down the back of my jersey, and I tried to keep my shoulders hunched so Capone wouldn't notice. After we made it 9-2 in the 6th, I did see him whisper to some big ugly men and disappear down a grandstand tunnel, which was even more scary because we couldn't see what he was up to.

The Cubs came back with a run to help their pride a smidgen, but Rogan, Johnson and Mackey got us two right back in the 9th with three doubles off Wheeler, and we ended up outscoring them in the sweep 42-9 and hitting ten home runs. Ye gads. These characters can't play lousy even if they try.

Big shiny cars with their engines running were parked outside our club house door like we figured they'd be, so it was the Black Phils' turn to dress up. They snuck out a side service door with a cleanup crew's push brooms, me right in the middle of the line. We got onto a bus back to Bronzeville and then the train station without the mobsters seeing us, and Mackey had booze bottles for all of us in the first five minutes.

Now all we have to do is start a series in St. Louis tomorrow, where there's supposed to be more racists in the stands than anywhere. The players were pretty quiet on the train, wondering what was going to happen there, and Rube didn't even leave the station with us, telling Oscar he was doing the short drive separately by car with Benny and Roy.

My guess is that they're up to something. Again.
—Vinny

BLACK PHILLIES
160 002 002 - 11 14 1
CUBS
200 000 100 - 3 11 4

Other National League games today:

ROBINS 3-8-1, REDS 2-6-2 (10 innings)
Brooklyn skipper Robby holds back Vance to face the Bucs and starts Ruether against Mays, and the crafty gamble pays off, as Dutch throws his only good outing of the year, giving up just two singles in 20 batters at one point. Mays is fantastic again, too, but a Critz two-base error and Andy High single make it 2-1 Reds in the 6th, a Jimmy Johnston single ties the game in the 9th, and a Fournier single off Dibut wins it in the 10th to put the Robins back alone in second place.

BRAVES 7-12-0, at CARDINALS 6-12-1
Getting shellacked two days in a row finally gets Boston mad enough, and they score five off Dickerman in the 2nd, give it right back when the Cards score five off Barnes in the 5th, then get two late runs and hold off St. Louis with Fowler on the mound.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Sunday, August 17
Pittsburgh Pirates	74	39	.655	—
Brooklyn Robins	69	47	.595	6.5
Cincinnati Reds	68	48	.586	7.5
New York Giants	62	52	.544	12.5
St. Louis Cardinals	56	58	.491	18.5
Chicago Cubs	54	60	.474	20.5
Philadelphia Phillies	45	71	.388	30.5
Boston Braves	31	84	.270	44

CALVIN AND CALVIN, AND A TOUCH OF GRACE

MY SURPRISE DINNER WITH THE COOLIDGES

August 16, 1924

By C. Jedediah Butterworth
Base Ball Freescriber

WASHINGTON—Minutes after witnessing another in a season-long series of tight dramas with the first-place Senators (to be documented below), I receive a sealed, cream-colored envelope at my writing station in the Griffith Park press row. A few local reporters notice it and linger nearby to watch me open the mysterious pouch. The note inside is neatly folded, of the same creamy hue, and stamped with what could only be a presidential seal:

Dear Mr. Butterworth,

Grace and I would be honored if you could join us for dinner tonight at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Sincerely,

John Calvin Coolidge

I gaze at the words for probably a full minute, in utter disbelief. My invitation to Henry Ford's mansion recently was shocking enough, but this? I quickly pocket the note and gather my things, my pale face and excited eyes making it clear to those around me what has just occurred.

An hour later, after returning to my hotel room to done crisper clothes, the taxicab delivers me to the gate of the magnificent White House, where I am ushered through with a mere showing of the letter. One would think there would be more security to keep interlopers out, but it is apparently a mark of the President's easygoing nature.

The lovely and charming Grace Coolidge greets me in the large entrance hall, and I follow the First Lady down a long hall and into a smaller but lavish family dining room, where President Coolidge stands by a window. For some reason I expect a taller man, maybe because we imagine all important figures to have added height in our minds to fit their stations in life, yet he is exactly 5 feet and 10 inches, the same as myself, and wears a smart navy suit and burgundy tie. After shaking his hand I ask him right away why I've been invited, and he just smiles.

"Because of your unparalleled feats of heroism, of course," he says. "Lost in Vermont? I was born there, you know, and was briefly lost in the woods myself as a boy. Then your daring flight with that Smith fellow all the way to Philadelphia."

"Not to mention your brave letter to Mr. Rutledge the other day," adds Grace, "calling for Negro integration in our sport." I correct her that it was really just a suggestion to try it with one team as an experiment, but the pleasant silence that follows cues me to keep my mouth shut. "Shall we dine?" she asks, and we repair to the nearby table.

As we feast on wild quail and French potatoes, the President seizes a pause in the conversation to lean over and say "'Stay Cool With Coolidge'. What do you think?" I realize this is his new campaign slogan for the upcoming election against Democrat John Davis of West Virginia. Coolidge took office when Warren Harding died suddenly last summer, and it is clear he's a bit nervous about his standing with the American people.

"I think it sounds...rather modern," I tell him. He seems to like that answer, and pats my wrist. "And what to you think of our fine local ball team this year?" I go on to elaborate on my absolute admiration for Bucky Harris' outfit, how they combine air-tight fielding, speedy running and on-the-bases frequency with sterling mound work from Johnson and a maddening penchant for the timely blow. The President's head seems to swim for a moment, and then he nods in agreement to his wife and sips from his glass of flavored soda water.

After dinner it is still light out, so we move to the vast front porch for some cool late summer air and one of the Coolidges' most treasured activities, waving to passing citizens. "Living up in Northampton, where I was the mayor you know, I would use my porch frequently. It has to be one of the nicest ways to pass the time." Two families stroll by on the distant sidewalk and wave, and the Coolidges wave back. I tell them how delighted I am to have been invited, and how I especially liked the warm apple peach tart that was served for dessert.

"Yes," says the President, "It was baked with Mr. Cobb in mind, but he phoned to say he'd be late so we just proceeded without him." My mouth nearly drops open. "Ty Cobb was invited?"

"Of course," says Grace, "Isn't he your club's living legend? Why...there he is now!"

I turn in my wicker chair to see Tyrus Raymond himself, dressed to the nines, standing at the foot of the steps with his straw hat in his hand. He sees me, fumbles with his words until nothing at all comes out, then pivots and scurries back toward the gate as if he'd forgotten to tag second.

"Poor man," says Grace, "He must have taken ill."

Yes, I can only imagine. Ill in the head.

DET 010 001 100 - 3 11 1
WAS 000 300 01x - 4 7 4

Seeing his mortal enemy on the White House porch may have been the capper on Cobb's long miserable day. The Tigers outplay the front-runners for most of the game, making only one gaffe to Washington's four, and outhitting them 11-7. Yet Heilman bounces into two early double plays off Mogridge to kill rallies, the Senators plate three off Syl Johnson in the 4th thanks to a huge triple by the diminutive Peckinpaugh, and after Detroit ties it in the 8th on doubles from Haney and Heilman, Bluege and Harris do the same off Bert Cole in the last of the 8th to edge us again. It is a crushing loss, for the series here is but two games, and we are even missing the Big Train in the process. Suffice to say, we are in dire need of help from others.

Other American League games today:

at YANKEES 3-8-1, WHITE SOX 1-6-2
Things are so bad in Chicago now that the Sox can't even beat Sad Sam Jones and the evaporating Yankees. Sheely's boot and singles by Pipp and Meusel give New York two runs in the 1st and make a loser of the once-untouchable Red Faber.

INDIANS 9-12-1, at ATHLETICS 4-9-2
The battle of cellar-dwellers goes to the Tribe, as Coveleski wins his second straight after dropping ten in a row, and Riggs Stephenson smashes four hits in the cleanup hole in place of the injured Speaker.

at RED SOX 6-12-1, BROWNS 1-9-2
The piping hot Brownies are cooled by the even hotter Bostons, as Ehmke easily outpitches Vangilder and Ike Boone amasses four hits.

AMERICAN LEAGUE through Saturday, August 16
Washington Senators	74	43	.632	—
Detroit Tigers	64	55	.538	11
Chicago White Sox	59	57	.509	14.5
New York Yankees	57	58	.496	16
St. Louis Browns	57	60	.487	17
Boston Red Sox	54	62	.466	19.5
Cleveland Indians	52	66	.441	22.5
Philadelphia Athletics	51	67	.432	23.5

OSCAR DOES THE CHARLESTON

August 16, 1924

The Black Phils took over the Arcadia Ballroom last night, getting all kinds of free drinks, free food, and not-as-free girls. At least that's what I heard. Cy and me and Benny were a little too scared to show our faces in white public after the beating we gave the home team, even though a lot of coloreds went to this dancing club, as I remember from back in May.

"This was just a one-game thing, right?" Benny asked Cy, who just shrugged his tall shoulders and chewed on a toothpick. "Probably. Pittsburgh didn't to seem have any problems with us. Guess we'll know after tomorrow."

Well, tomorrow just happened, and I'd say we knew after the top of the 1st inning Willie Wells doubled with one out off Vic Keen, Charleston got him to third with a grounder, and Super Mule Suttles went to town with a booming triple over Jigger Statz' head in center. Stearnes and Scales doubled around a Jud Wilson walk, and four Black Phillie runs were on the board.

I guess scoring three runs most every inning yesterday wasn't good enough for these guys, because this time they racked up four more in the second. Torriente singled and stole and with two outs Oscar bashed one way out of there, snickering at me as he rounded third. Suttles then doubled and Turkey homered and I thought Keen was going to drop dead before his manager Bill Killefer had a chance to pull him.

We got a little less greedy after that, scoring only one run in the 3rd, two in the 4th and three in the 5th. Keen was actually left on the hill for all of this, and I can't blame Killefer. Why stick in worse pitchers and wear everyone out for the next one?

The crowd that was just shocked yesterday was five times more angry today. A bunch of times Turkey had to run around trash that was being thrown from the bleachers, and the umps even stopped the game once to get it cleaned up. The Cubs got mad enough themselves against Nip Winters to get homers out of Grimes and Hartnett later (Gabby's 25th!), but a lot of the fans left by the 5th inning and missed them.

Rube Foster gathered everyone in the club house after, and even he wasn't happy. "We gotta give 'em more of a chance, darlins," he said "Oscar? Better put on some bunt plays tomorrow or there won't be any fans left and they won't let us do this any more." Oscar said OK, but we all could see he wasn't doing cartwheels about it.

They dragged me and Benny back to the Arcadia tonight though, and we got a good look at Oscar being plenty happy. We'd heard he was popular with the ladies, and they were all over him like ants on a muffin crumb. He just kept smiling and grinning at each one and whispering things and soon enough he'd pulled one out on the floor and was doing a full-blown Charleston with her. They say Oscar's the most talented colored player because he can hit for average and power and run and field like the wind, but I bet they didn't know he can also skate on polished hardwood.
—Vinny

BLACK PHILLIES
441 230 200 - 16 19 0
CUBS
002 000 012 - 5 8 1

Other National League games today:

at PIRATES 3-8-1, GIANTS 2-2-2 (10 innings)
The awful Giants continue to do the league no favors, getting a total of two singles in 10 innnings off Johnny Morrison, the worst starter in the Buc rotation. New York has a 2-0 lead as late as he 7th, but no one in their right mind thinks this will hold up. Carey homers off Nehf to make it close, Clyde Barnhart (!) doubles in the 8th to tie, and after Ross Youngs' predictable two-base error with two outs in the 10th, Carey doubles in the winner.

ROBINS 6-13-1, at REDS 5-14-0
Zack Wheat goes nuts against Tom Sheehan with a homer, two singles and a double, but Cincy still makes it fun with a 2-run shot by Ike Caveney off Doak in the 8th. Ehrhardt saves it and the Robins tie the red for second again.

at CARDINALS 19-19-2, BRAVES 0-8-3
What 's getting lost in all this Cubs Park carnage is that St. Louis has destroyed the Braves even worse for two days running. That's a 32-0 score on 38 hits, folks.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Saturday, August 16
Pittsburgh Pirates	74	39	.655	—
Cincinnati Reds	68	47	.591	7
Brooklyn Robins	68	47	.591	7
New York Giants	62	52	.544	12.5
St. Louis Cardinals	56	57	.496	18
Chicago Cubs	54	59	.478	20
Philadelphia Phillies	44	71	.383	31
Boston Braves	30	84	.263	44.5

TYRUS TAKES IT OUT ON THE MACKMEN

COBB LIGHTS FUSE IN THREE EARLY RALLIES AS BENGALS STAVE OFF ELEPHANTS, 10-6

August 15, 1924

By C. Jedediah Butterworth
Base Ball Freescriber

PHILADELPHIA—It has been eleven years since Connie Mack's last World's Series appearance, but with great young players like Al Simmons and Maxie Bishop at his disposal, and judging by the way his club rallied yesterday, the American circuit may have their basket of pennant contenders stuffed to the brim before long.

"We can certainly swat with anyone," he confesses to me before today's contest, "Our pitching is where the aches and pains are." Most teams can supply the same confession, but the numbers on Mack's staff bear this out. Aside from Baumgartner's 12-9 record and acceptable 4.23 earned run average, Burns, Gray and Heimach have been spotty at best, and Ed Rommel's 8-17 mark is straight from the gutter.

Today, even Baumgartner is on the fritz, and skipper Cobb is to blame. He beats out a grounder to short to begin the 2nd which Galloway then heaves astray for an error. O'Rourke singles in our first run, and then the dike splits open in the 3rd. Rigney and Haney open with singles, and Heilman draws a pass. Cobb blisters a ball into right for two runs, robs second base, Pratt and O'Rourke single and after an actual out, pitcher Holloway singles and it is 6-0!

In the 4th, the boos rain from the sky. Rigney singles, gets wild pitched to second, and Cobb drives him home with yet another single. Ty steals second again, and Pratt doubles him home. The excitement seems to swell Ty's head, though, for he drops an easy fly in the last of the 4th to lead to three Athletic runs. Bassler bails him out, though, with a lead triple in the 5th, scoring soon after on a passed ball by Hale.

Holloway tires in the 8th and the Macksters make a small game of it with three runs off he and Dauss in the last two frames, but Detroit has this one well in hand and pick up a half game on the idle Senators. With our final two games in Washington on tomorrow's horizon, we obviously must continue our fairly good play of late to have any chance of making the league race engaging.

As I sit here in the press row compiling my notes afterward, though, another issue looms. Word comes across the telegraph machine that the Black Phillies have decimated the Cubs 15-1 out in Chicago. "Hope you're happy, Butterworth!" yells one writing wag I can't see from my chair, and it suddenly dawns on me that I may have opened Pandora's fiendish box.

DET 015 210 001 - 10 18 2
PHL 000 300 021 - 6 14 1

Only other American League game today:

at RED SOX 6-13-1, WHITE SOX 4-15-2
Boston's second 4-game flattening of Chicago is complete,as the scarlet Sox break a tight 3-3 battle with three singles, an error by Barrett and pinch triple from Howie Shanks in the 8th to give Ted Lyons yet another notch in his loss column. Ever drip of luck that was drenching Chicago for much of the season has suddenly dried up, and clubs are looking forward to facing them. Boston, meantime, is suddenly a scant three and a half games to the rear of the Yankees.

AMERICAN LEAGUE through Friday, August 15
Washington Senators	73	43	.629	—
Detroit Tigers	64	54	.538	10
Chicago White Sox	59	56	.513	13.5
St. Louis Browns	57	59	.491	16
New York Yankees	56	58	.491	16
Boston Red Sox	53	62	.456	19.5
Philadelphia Athletics	51	66	.436	22.5
Cleveland Indians	51	66	.436	22.5

BLACK PHILS ROAST CUBBY BEARS FOR LUNCH

August 15, 1924

Uh-oh.

I never thought it was possible to destroy an enemy team and feel scared and guilty about it at the same time. Until today...

The first matchup at Cubs Park was a good one, Smokey Joe Williams against Vic Aldridge, and after the easy way the Bucs took care of us a few days ago, I was expecting another tough battle. The whole city of Chicago was too, because every seat was gone by ten this morning and all eight local papers had shouting headlines like CUBS BRING SHARPEST CLAWS OUT and INVASION OF THE COLOREDS. The regular bad Phillies would have been lucky to fill half this place, and there was Benny and Roy and Roy's brother Thomas, forced to stand at the back of the left grandstand and choke on everybody's tobacco smoke.

Aldridge got Torriente, Wells and Charleston 1-2-3 on easy grounders in the 1st, and the crowd went cuckoo. Williams had one-fourth of a cigar in his mouth until he walked out to pitch, and it was my job to keep it safe somewhere. Smokey walked Friberg with one out but then whiffed Grantham on a high fastball and got Grimes on a fly. Mule Suttles singled and Jud Wilson got hit due to his usual plate-crowding in the 2nd, but Aldridge got out of the minor mess pretty easy.

Then the 3rd inning happened. After Smokey whiffed for starters, Torriente ripped a single to right. Wells got him to third with a single, and Charleston completely hammered a ball over Heathcote and off the center field wall for a double. Mule then singled and I never saw a human run so fast as Oscar did getting across home. The fans, who were happy and buzzing when the game began, were suddenly crabby and quiet.

Grimes singled in a run for them in the bottom half to get them going again, but the resurrection didn't last long. It seemed like the Black Phillies must've like scoring those first three runs, because they did it three more innings in a row and in the 8th inning did it a fifth time. And the balls couldn't explode off their bats fast enough. Wells hit a 3-run cannon shot after Aldridge got the first two guys out. Jud Wilson remembered Aldridge plunking him in the 2nd and got him back with a 3-run rocket onto Sheffield Avenue with nobody out the next inning. Turkey Stearnes gobbled up a fastball and put it in the bleacher oven and one out later Tubby Scales did the same.

Standing in the third base coach box I was expecting bottles to be thrown at us, or certainly more racist yelling than I heard, but it just got weird and quiet, like parents who had just watched their kids get run over by a truck. After Tubby's homer some fan in the bleachers yelled something I couldn't make out and whipped the ball back on the field—kind of an original, funny idea if you ask me—but that was the only peep out of the crowd.

Smokey Joe finished off the poor Cubs by getting the last five, two on strikes, shook some of his teammates' hands, grabbed the cigar butt from me that I was carrying in my pants pocket, lit it back up and smoked the rest of it in the shower.

There were extra police there to make sure no one jumped us on our way out, but that wasn't going to happen here. Chicago people know their baseball, and sure know how to take a clubbing. If this happens again tomorrow, though, we'd better keep our bags packed.
—Vinny

BLACK PHILLIES
003 333 030 -15 21 0
CUBS
001 000 000 - 1 10 3

Other National League games today:

GIANTS 9-14-0, at PIRATES 6-16-0
Even when New York wins a game they manage to look terrible. McQuillan is given a 6-0 lead into the last of the 6th and Cuyler and Traynor whack him for leadoff triples. Four straight Buc singles in the 7th put them right back in the game and make pathetic Hughie walk the plank. Lucky for McGraw, Hack Wilson singles, doubles, triples and homers and knocks in six of their runs because Kelly goes his usual 0-for-4 and adds nothing but a big hole in the 5th spot. The Black Phils pick up a full game and are just 31 out!

at REDS 7-15-3, ROBINS 5-8-2
Cincy also gets closer in a thriller at Redland Field. Down 4-1 in the 8th, Brooklyn scores four times, only to have the Reds score three in the same inning on a walk, two singles and two doubles off horrible Dutch Ruether and take the game.

at CARDINALS 13-19-0, BRAVES 0-6-0
Happy to see the Cubs dealing with us, St. Louis screws eliminated Boston into the ground. Hornsby collects a triple and three singles and ups his average to .407.

NATIONAL LEAGUE through Friday, August 15
Pittsburgh Pirates	73	39	.652	—
Cincinnati Reds	68	46	.596	6
Brooklyn Robins	67	47	.588	7
New York Giants	62	51	.549	11.5
St. Louis Cardinals	55	57	.491	18
Chicago Cubs	54	58	.482	19
Philadelphia Phillies	43	71	.377	31
Boston Braves	30	83	.265	43.5