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About Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 8, 1912)
THE SEMI-MONTHLY MAGAZINE SECTION 7 BAS E BALlror What's in.lt 6? EDWARD LYELL FOX ILLUSTRATIONS Vy'OB CORY KILVERT HERE SAT IN THE press box at Cincinnati, one summer day, twelve years ago, a young man, heavy-jowled, heavily forceful, and built on the lines of a Jeffries. He was Bvron Bancroft Johnson, baseball reporter, salaried at $25 a week. Ten years later, a slightly heavier-jowled John son sat in a Chicago hotel and heard the club-owners of the American League vote him a salary as President of $25,000 a year for twenty years. In reporting the incident a newspaper man coined the phrase, "The Czar of Baseball." The rise of Johnson is the rise of baseball, and this is how he i u an vauic iu uc no At the time the large young man was reporting, there came to him Charles Comiskey, who was inter ested, in a small way, in baseball. Comiskey had heard of Johnson, of his f orcefulness, his way of get ting what he wanted. " There 's a fortune to be squeezed out of base ball," remarked Comiskey. Johnson agreed. " But not as players," said Comiskey. Johnson nodded his head. " As magnates," proposed Comiskey. " Exactly," came in Johnson's deep voice. " I like your proposition, and I '11 be the magnate." Whereupon, they formed the Western League, with the best club for Comiskey and for Johnson t lie pres idency. From the start, prosperity attended the lit tle league. Then, Johnson's reputation for executive ability began to drift East, to the ears of big base ball men. Eventually, certain moneyed sportsmen boarded a train and wem our 10 see jonn- rni 1 son. mey proposeu that he launch a second big league to rival the National. They asked for a definite answer. Johnson laughed at them. He knew the hold that the long estab lished National enjoyed in the big cities. He knew the powerful op position that would have to be broken down. He wanted time to study the project from every angle. He told them so. But other secret meetings fol lowed, and there came a lav wlipn flip hnsphnll world was astounded by the announcement of a new league. It was called the American League, and at its head was the former reporter of Cincinnati. Then, trouble came along. In 1900 a "base ball war " broke out be tween the American and the National feagues. Jonn son ordered his club owners to spare no expense, to throw all the money they could gather into the fight. At his bidding, agents raided the National's ranks. The star players of the old league were lured away by big salaries. Johnson needed them as box-office attractions, to draw the crowds for his new league. Those were golden days for the players. They were at liberty to sell their skill to the league offering the most money. Salaries doubled and trebled. But after three years of this, Johnson realized that the end must come. It was too heavy a drain on the treasuries of the clubs. Also, he knew that the Na tional League, tottering and broken, was eager for "peace." The large young man from Cincinnati was able to ride its chest. So, he declared a He did not enthuie rr-. Caught the ball, and . . . it high overhead truce, and on January 10, 1903, directed the draw ing up of the so-called " Cincinnati Peace Compact." This put an end to the high salaries. On September 11 of the same year a wonderful document, styled "The National Agreement for t he Government of Professional Baseball," was signed by the Cincin nati reporter. That was the document that trans formed baseball from a number of scattered leagues into 'a great business, a corporation. Today, there are six teen parent companies the clubs of the Na tional and the Amer ican leagues. The sub sidiary companies are the clubs of the minor leagues. The latter are answerable to a body called the National Commission. The last named is composed of three men, appointed by the National and the American, thus giving these leagues complete control of the business of professional base ball. And what, eighty one years ago, was a haphazard sport of New England's village greens is today a great money-maker. All because Byron Bancroft-Johnson saw what lie wanted, went after it, and got it ! In an interview with me, the Secretary of one of the Major League clubs called his product " Honest Baseball." Regard ing this, Johnson has been ever watchful. Permit an incident: It was an afternoon in October four years ago. New York and Chicago were playing the game on which hung the championship of the National League. Never had New York been roused to such a pitch over baseball. The city had for gotten everything but that game. Parti san feeling ran high. Stories of enmity between the two teams filled the newspa pers. Unly a tew days betore, MeUraw, manager of the Giants, had refused ad mittance to the Polo Grounds to a Na tional League umpire. There were ru mors of a " conspiracy to do the Giants out of the pennant." From the first inning, the crowd be haved as no New York crowd has done since. Fierce applause greeted the Giants if they gained a trivial advantage. Sul len mutterings and a few open threats met the Chicago team and the umpires on every hand. Innings passed; the ten sion tightened; the nerves of the crowd became frayed. Violence was in the air. The last inning came, and with it New York's last chance to win. With the Giants needing a lone run to carry off the championship, and with men on second and first, Bridwell, their shortstop, drove the ball safely over second. The man on second scored. Pandemonium swept the stands. Two men were out ; and Merkle, the man on first, should have run to second and touched that base, be fore fleeing with his team-mates from the jubilant crowd. Instead, he raced with Bridwell toward the clubhouse. Seeing Merkle leaving the field, Evers, Chicago's quick-witted second baseman, cried for his center-fielder to throw the ball to second. If it reached there before Merkle, the play would be a force-out the run would not count. And as Merkle was at the clubhouse by this time, Evers caught the ball, and jumping up and down at second, held it high overhead, calling in the meanwhile for the um pire. Grasping the situation, Umpire O'Pay tore off his mask and protector and dashed across the diamond to second base. From the bleachers and grandstand tumbled angry men, only a few of them understanding the cause of the uproar. Came the Giants; came McGraw, red-faced and spluttering; came the Chicago team.- Now the crowd closed about them, muttering and dangerous. Men struck at Evers, at Chance, at the umpires; but O'Pay called Mer kle out and the pennant was loM ! Before the crowd, dumb and unbe lieving, could break into violence, O'Pay had brushed aside man after man and walked to his dressing room. That night the New York Club filed formal protest against O'Pay 's decision with President Pulliam of the National League; they de manded an award of the champion ship. The city was up in arms. O'Pay received anonymous letters, threatening him. So did members of the Chicago team. Practically everybody who had ever seen a game at the Polo Grounds took the deci sion personally, as an attempt to defraud his city out of t lie pennant. For ten days the case hung fire. The officials of t lie National League remained in secret session. Strong influences were brought to bear upon them. With the New York club were mar shalled some of the most powerful interests in the league. It was clique against clique. Intrigue and threats faced President Pulliam at every turn; but over it all fell the shadow of the Cincinnati reporter. "Give that game to New York," Johnson thun dered, " and you '11 ruin baseball! " Then, Pulliam made his decision. It was against New York, against the powerful interests of the Na tional League; "Honest Baseball" was saved. But the tragedy of it was, (hat not long after, a nervous wreck, Pulliam committed suicide. And now, let us consider the players the em ployees and their unique status, their relation to the Business and what it has done for them. If they are " stars " demanded by the box office, like Mathew son and Cobb, they receive high salaries. If they are " average," they must play for the salary given them by one club or not at all. Were Pevore, of New York, for instance, to go to President Brush and say: " You must raise my salary or next season I 'II play with some other club that has offered, me more (Continued on Page IS) held w The ball, thrown from third, hit hbell in the back