Prior to the 1883 season, the National League put a franchise in Philadelphia, figuring a team in what then was America's second-largest city would fare better financially than the club it was replacing in Worcester, Mass.
The Philadelphia squad got off to a rocky start, to say the least. The Quakers, as they originally were called, played 98 games and lost 81 of them, giving up more than twice as many runs as they scored. Taking the pitcher's mound in a majority of games was a 20-year-old rookie named John Francis Coleman, who must have had either a strong sense of loyalty or a strong sense of humor: He surrendered 772 hits and 510 runs for the season while going 12-48.
The team became better known as the Phillies, but in 124 years its situation has rarely gotten all that much better. Besides a couple of isolated pennants, a dozen or so years of consistent winning and the magical season of 1980, the Phils have been associated with losing throughout most of their history.
And they're about to rack up their 10,000th loss as a franchise, an occasion some Philadelphians no doubt will celebrate in some kind of perverse tribute to the city's general sense of ineptitude.
Personally, I've always had a warm spot for Philly. My grandparents lived in the suburbs, just outside the city limits, and many of my fondest childhood memories are from there. Some of my earliest, too; I remember a visit to the Philadelphia Zoo in 1965 and still feel the pain of seeing the helium balloon I got there float away just as I was about to show it to my great-grandmother.
I'm too young, though, to remember what happened in Philadelphia in 1964, when the Phillies committed The Choke. For anyone who was there, the numbers still are agonizing four decades later: a 6.5-game lead on Sept. 20, with just 12 games to go, then 10 losses in a row and a tie for second place. My dad says that after one of those defeats, he was so disgusted that he threw his radio out the window.
My own memories of the Phillies start when they were lousy again, around 1970, when they used to give away 8-by-10 glossies of the players at the gas station (along with free road maps and guys checking your oil, all at 33 cents per gallon). So I ended up with a bunch of nice photos of the likes of Deron Johnson, Barry Lersch, Woodie Fryman and Byron Browne.
None of that meant much of anything to me until 1972, when everyone was talking about a new Phillies pitcher, Steve Carlton, who refused to lose. By the end of the year, he had racked up 27 wins for a team that posted a grand total of 59 victories, as far as I'm concerned the most remarkable accomplishment in baseball history.
By the following season, I listened to Phillies games on the radio every night, rapidly building enthusiasm for a team that managed, once again, to finish last.
In 1974, the situation started to look promising, with second baseman Dave Cash coming from the rival Pirates to provide a needed burst of energy and young third baseman Mike Schmidt leading the league in home runs while raising his batting average nearly 100 points.
The Phillies rose from third in '74 to second in '75 to their first National League East title during the Bicentennial. Three straight divisional championships, though, provided more frustration for long-suffering fans: Philadelphia faltered in the playoffs each fall.
Then came 1980, and as a freshman in college, I watched the Phillies finally put it all together. First was the playoff win over Houston, in which the final four games all went to extra innings. Then came the World Series against Kansas City, which had exorcised its own demons by finally beating the Yankees in the Royals' fourth try.
I've seen the deciding sixth game several times, but only on videotape. While it was being played live, I was obligated to be somewhere besides in front of a TV screen. That's the way it goes sometimes.
The strike of '81 started to erode my interest in baseball in general, and the Phillies in particular. I was attending school on the other side of Pennsylvania and had a whole lot else going on in my life.
I watched the "Wheeze Kids," featuring aging members of the '70s Big Red Machine, somehow make it to the '83 Series, only to be humiliated by Baltimore. A few years later, I was living in Pittsburgh and started the gradual process of switching my allegiance. (Oh, why didn't I move to Minneapolis?)
One like still remained from my years of following the Phillies: Schmidt, who in early 1987 was closing in on 500 home runs, which was a huge deal in the pre-steroid era. The Phillies happened to be visiting Three Rivers Stadium for a weekend series with Schmidt at 498. I saw him hit a home run on Friday night, then I returned for Saturday, April 18.
Steve Bedrosian had just coughed up a lead and the Phillies trailed, 6-5, going into the top of the eighth inning. The Phils got two runners aboard, and Don Robinson ran a 3-0 count on Schmidt. At that point, I figured I'd have to come back the next day, but Schmidt smacked the ball over the left-field wall, not only for No. 500 but to win the game for Philadelphia.
On April 23, 1989, I attended another Phillies-vs.-Pirates game at Three Rivers. Schmidt, now 38 years old, came to bat in the first inning against John Smiley and smashed the ball over the left-field wall.
"He always hits a homer when I see him!" I said to my companions as I stood and clapped.
Turns out that I never saw him in person again. A month later, mired in a slump, Schmidt announced his retirement. After that home run in Pittsburgh, he hit only one more, No. 548.
As for the Phillies, I cheered when they beat the Braves in the '93 playoffs, and I turned off the television when manager Jim Fregosi brought Mitch "Wild Thing" Williams in to pitch late in the sixth game of the World Series. I had a feeling about what might happen.
And that was about it. I don't have a rooting interest anymore in the team I loved as a kid, which is kind of a shame.
Then again, I probably shouldn't admit I used to love a team that's about to lose its 10,000th game.
Showing posts with label Philadelphia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Philadelphia. Show all posts
Monday, July 9, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
The unfortunate Mr. McAndrew
As we approached Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia - what seemed like the most massive structure I'd ever seen - Dad pointed to the top and said, "We'll probably have to stand way up there because it will be so crowded."
I didn't realize he was joking. With Steve Carlton on the mound for the Phillies, coming off his 27 victories for a last-place team the previous season, I figured this would be one popular baseball game.
And even if I ended up hundreds of feet above the playing field, I wouldn't care. This was my first major-league baseball game, and I was going to enjoy it.
As it turned out, there was plenty of room inside the stadium, as the paid attendance was slightly more than 11,000 to see the Phillies play the Mets on April 14, 1973. Facing the mighty Mr. Carlton was New York's Jim McAndrew, a pitcher I'd never heard of before that night.
Carlton pitched a complete game as Philadelphia coasted to a 7-3 win. McAndrew, making his first start of the season, lasted into the sixth in taking the loss.
The 1973 season didn't prove to be a one to remember for either pitcher. Carlton ended up losing 20 games, while McAndrew staggered his way through his sixth and final year with the Mets and was gone from the majors by early '74.
About all I knew of McAndrew was that he was one of a crew of exceptional young pitchers the Mets' farm system developed in the '60s. Tom Seaver and Nolan Ryan went on to the Hall of Fame, while Jerry Koosman and the late Tug McGraw achieved some degree of stardom.
McAndrew was one who didn't, perhaps in part because of his harrowing experiences at the very start of is major-league career.
The native of Lost Nation, Iowa - what a great place name! - was 24 when the Mets called him up from Jacksonville in July 1968. McAndrew must have known he wasn't joining an offensive juggernaut (New York batter his .228 and scored fewer than three runs per game that year), but nothing could have prepared him for what happened when he reached The Show.
In his debut, for example, he pitched exceptionally well, giving up one run on six hits and no walks by facing the defending World Series champion Cardinals. On the mound for St. Louis, though, was Bob Gibson, who was in the midst of a stretch of surrendering two runs in 100 innings (sic) on his way to a 1.12 ERA for the season. Gibson scattered seven singles, walked none and struck out 13 while posting one of his baker's dozen complete-game shutouts in '68.
The Mets gave McAndrew his next start two weeks later, against the Dodgers. He didn't pitch as well, giving up nine hits before manager Gil Hodges yanked him in the fifth inning. The two runs Los Angeles scored were plenty enough for mound opponent Mike Kekich, who pitched a one-hit shutout, striking out 11.
On Aug. 10, McAndrew faced the Giants. His one mistake was giving up a single to Bob Barton, which scored Jesus Alou from second. San Francisco's Bob Bolin, meanwhile, pitched a six-hit shutout and struck out nine in the 1-0 win.
A week later, it was McAndrew's turn against Houston, which was fighting the Mets for eighth place in the NL standings. McAndrew's only gaffe was hanging a ball that Jim "The Toy Cannon" Wynn hit out of the park in the top of the sixth. Houston's Don Wilson and John Buzhardt combined to give up four hits in the 1-0 victory.
To that point, McAndrew had compiled a 1.82 ERA, but was 0-4, with the Mets scoring exactly zero runs in any game in which he'd pitched.
So one couldn't blame him for being more than slightly frazzled when he took the mound again on Aug. 21 for a rematch with San Francisco, which had two future Hall of Famers, Willies Mays and McCovey, in the lineup and another, Juan Marichal, as the opposing pitcher.
This time around, the Mets actually scored on McAndrew's behalf, with Larry Stahl's home run in the third and Ed Kranepool's single later in the inning staking New York out to a 2-1 lead.
Perhaps the shock of seeing his team actually score was too much for Jim. After giving up Mays' 580th career home run, which put the Giants up 6-2, Hodges dismissed McAndrew, and the Mets were on their way to a 13-3 defeat. His record: 0-5, 3.38 ERA.
By then, McAndrew might have been hoping for a bus ticket back to Jacksonville, but Hodges put him out there again St. Louis on Aug. 26, vs. yet another pitcher on his way to Cooperstown: Carlton, the same guy he'd face in my first game.
In the '68 contest, Carlton shut out the Mets for the first seven innings, but the Cardinals had no success against McAndrew, either. In the eighth, Tommie Agee (on his way to a .217 season with a whopping 17 RBI) led off by bouncing a single to left field. Phil "Harmonica" Linz sacrificed Agee to second. Apparently, Carlton hadn't developed his killer pickoff move at that point in his career, and Agee stole third. Cleon Jones then hit a fly ball deep enough for Agee to cross the plate.
Knowing that probably was all he'd get in the run department, McAndrew mowed down the final six Cardinals, with Roger Maris, who'd retire after the season, making the last out.
Finally, McAndrew had a win to go with all those losses. But four days later, Carlton turned the tables and beat McAndrew and the Mets, 2-0. And five days after that, Pittsburgh's Steve Blass won a 2-1 battle over McAndrew, the deciding tally coming on a home run by all-time great Roberto Clemente.
Thus, in his first eight major-league starts, Jim McAndrew compiled a 2.53 ERA, but had a 1-7 record to show for it.
He won his last three decisions in '68, beating Cooperstown-bound Ferguson Jenkins and future All-Stars Ken Holtzman and Rick Wise. McAndrew finished 1968 at 4-7 with a 2.28 ERA.
The Mets' pitching staff was loaded in '69, and when McAndrew started the season by getting bombed in his first three starts (including failing to make it out of the second inning against the Montreal Expos in just the team's second game ever), he would up splitting time between the starting rotation and the bullpen.
Despite showing a flash of brilliance in back-to-back shutouts of the Giants (beating Gaylord Perry, yet another future Hall of Famer) and Padres in late August, he generally was nowhere near as effective as he'd been as a rookie.
His best overall season was 1972, when he went 11-8 with a 2.80 ERA for another offensively challenged Mets squad. But after a slow start in '73, he was used sporadically and finished 3-8, scoring his final win on May 13 for a team that ended up going to the World Series.
McAndrew's career ended a year later on yet another team that couldn't hit the ball, the San Diego Padres. Two decades later, he watched son Jamie pitch a couple of seasons with Milwaukee.
Jim McAndrew still seems to be a hero of sorts among the Mets faithful who revere the miracle team of '69 and anyone who was on the squad. Here he is (far right) at a recent Mets fantasy camp, along with former teammates Jerry Grote, Cleon Jones and Al Jackson, along with camp attendee Howie Abrams, whose photograph this is:
Jim is pictured a big smile on his face, which means he may finally have gotten over some of those other guys not scoring any runs for him!
Trivia question 45: Who was the first Kansas City Royals player to win the Rookie of the Year award? Question courtesy of the Society for American Baseball Research; answer at lower right
I didn't realize he was joking. With Steve Carlton on the mound for the Phillies, coming off his 27 victories for a last-place team the previous season, I figured this would be one popular baseball game.
And even if I ended up hundreds of feet above the playing field, I wouldn't care. This was my first major-league baseball game, and I was going to enjoy it.
As it turned out, there was plenty of room inside the stadium, as the paid attendance was slightly more than 11,000 to see the Phillies play the Mets on April 14, 1973. Facing the mighty Mr. Carlton was New York's Jim McAndrew, a pitcher I'd never heard of before that night.
Carlton pitched a complete game as Philadelphia coasted to a 7-3 win. McAndrew, making his first start of the season, lasted into the sixth in taking the loss.
The 1973 season didn't prove to be a one to remember for either pitcher. Carlton ended up losing 20 games, while McAndrew staggered his way through his sixth and final year with the Mets and was gone from the majors by early '74.
About all I knew of McAndrew was that he was one of a crew of exceptional young pitchers the Mets' farm system developed in the '60s. Tom Seaver and Nolan Ryan went on to the Hall of Fame, while Jerry Koosman and the late Tug McGraw achieved some degree of stardom.
McAndrew was one who didn't, perhaps in part because of his harrowing experiences at the very start of is major-league career.
The native of Lost Nation, Iowa - what a great place name! - was 24 when the Mets called him up from Jacksonville in July 1968. McAndrew must have known he wasn't joining an offensive juggernaut (New York batter his .228 and scored fewer than three runs per game that year), but nothing could have prepared him for what happened when he reached The Show.
In his debut, for example, he pitched exceptionally well, giving up one run on six hits and no walks by facing the defending World Series champion Cardinals. On the mound for St. Louis, though, was Bob Gibson, who was in the midst of a stretch of surrendering two runs in 100 innings (sic) on his way to a 1.12 ERA for the season. Gibson scattered seven singles, walked none and struck out 13 while posting one of his baker's dozen complete-game shutouts in '68.
The Mets gave McAndrew his next start two weeks later, against the Dodgers. He didn't pitch as well, giving up nine hits before manager Gil Hodges yanked him in the fifth inning. The two runs Los Angeles scored were plenty enough for mound opponent Mike Kekich, who pitched a one-hit shutout, striking out 11.
On Aug. 10, McAndrew faced the Giants. His one mistake was giving up a single to Bob Barton, which scored Jesus Alou from second. San Francisco's Bob Bolin, meanwhile, pitched a six-hit shutout and struck out nine in the 1-0 win.
A week later, it was McAndrew's turn against Houston, which was fighting the Mets for eighth place in the NL standings. McAndrew's only gaffe was hanging a ball that Jim "The Toy Cannon" Wynn hit out of the park in the top of the sixth. Houston's Don Wilson and John Buzhardt combined to give up four hits in the 1-0 victory.
To that point, McAndrew had compiled a 1.82 ERA, but was 0-4, with the Mets scoring exactly zero runs in any game in which he'd pitched.
So one couldn't blame him for being more than slightly frazzled when he took the mound again on Aug. 21 for a rematch with San Francisco, which had two future Hall of Famers, Willies Mays and McCovey, in the lineup and another, Juan Marichal, as the opposing pitcher.
This time around, the Mets actually scored on McAndrew's behalf, with Larry Stahl's home run in the third and Ed Kranepool's single later in the inning staking New York out to a 2-1 lead.
Perhaps the shock of seeing his team actually score was too much for Jim. After giving up Mays' 580th career home run, which put the Giants up 6-2, Hodges dismissed McAndrew, and the Mets were on their way to a 13-3 defeat. His record: 0-5, 3.38 ERA.
By then, McAndrew might have been hoping for a bus ticket back to Jacksonville, but Hodges put him out there again St. Louis on Aug. 26, vs. yet another pitcher on his way to Cooperstown: Carlton, the same guy he'd face in my first game.
In the '68 contest, Carlton shut out the Mets for the first seven innings, but the Cardinals had no success against McAndrew, either. In the eighth, Tommie Agee (on his way to a .217 season with a whopping 17 RBI) led off by bouncing a single to left field. Phil "Harmonica" Linz sacrificed Agee to second. Apparently, Carlton hadn't developed his killer pickoff move at that point in his career, and Agee stole third. Cleon Jones then hit a fly ball deep enough for Agee to cross the plate.
Knowing that probably was all he'd get in the run department, McAndrew mowed down the final six Cardinals, with Roger Maris, who'd retire after the season, making the last out.
Finally, McAndrew had a win to go with all those losses. But four days later, Carlton turned the tables and beat McAndrew and the Mets, 2-0. And five days after that, Pittsburgh's Steve Blass won a 2-1 battle over McAndrew, the deciding tally coming on a home run by all-time great Roberto Clemente.
Thus, in his first eight major-league starts, Jim McAndrew compiled a 2.53 ERA, but had a 1-7 record to show for it.
He won his last three decisions in '68, beating Cooperstown-bound Ferguson Jenkins and future All-Stars Ken Holtzman and Rick Wise. McAndrew finished 1968 at 4-7 with a 2.28 ERA.
The Mets' pitching staff was loaded in '69, and when McAndrew started the season by getting bombed in his first three starts (including failing to make it out of the second inning against the Montreal Expos in just the team's second game ever), he would up splitting time between the starting rotation and the bullpen.
Despite showing a flash of brilliance in back-to-back shutouts of the Giants (beating Gaylord Perry, yet another future Hall of Famer) and Padres in late August, he generally was nowhere near as effective as he'd been as a rookie.
His best overall season was 1972, when he went 11-8 with a 2.80 ERA for another offensively challenged Mets squad. But after a slow start in '73, he was used sporadically and finished 3-8, scoring his final win on May 13 for a team that ended up going to the World Series.
McAndrew's career ended a year later on yet another team that couldn't hit the ball, the San Diego Padres. Two decades later, he watched son Jamie pitch a couple of seasons with Milwaukee.
Jim McAndrew still seems to be a hero of sorts among the Mets faithful who revere the miracle team of '69 and anyone who was on the squad. Here he is (far right) at a recent Mets fantasy camp, along with former teammates Jerry Grote, Cleon Jones and Al Jackson, along with camp attendee Howie Abrams, whose photograph this is:
Jim is pictured a big smile on his face, which means he may finally have gotten over some of those other guys not scoring any runs for him!
Trivia question 45: Who was the first Kansas City Royals player to win the Rookie of the Year award? Question courtesy of the Society for American Baseball Research; answer at lower right
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Nabors' nadir
As a baseball fan living in Pittsburgh, I've become fascinated with the sport's historic losers.
Well, that's not really true. I've been fascinated with baseball's losers since long before I moved to Pittsburgh. Maybe that's because I couldn't hit a lick when I was a kid. Seriously, it was embarrassing ...
Anyway, on the heels of Joe Cleary and his 189.00 ERA, I present Jack Nabors, who had the misfortune of pitching for the Philadelphia Athletics after Connie Mack decided to divest his payroll of any players making more than what passed for minimum wage.
Look it up. The A's went from winning the American League pennant in 1914 to winning a whopping 43 games against 109 losses the following year, in a plunge that was even more precipitous than Wayne Huizenga's 1997-98 Florida Fish.
Mack's apologists say he was embarrassed by his team being swept by the "Miracle" Boston Braves (and miraculous they were) in the '14 Series, but the cleaning of the house probably had more to do with competition from the upstart Federal League and the probability that Connie's stars were going to try to squeeze more money out of him.
The pitching staff of the 1915 Athletics is an interesting one. No less than 27 hurlers took the mound for the team at some point during the season, in an era when teams general had four-man rotations and a couple of guys on hand for emergencies. And Mack was going for a staff that was uniformly wet behind the ears: Their average age was 22.
Nabors, in fact, was the oldest pitcher to appear for the A's that year, having turned 27 the previous Nov. 19. The native of Montevallo, Ala., made his major-league debut in 1915 and turned in an 0-5 record in five starts and two relief stints, giving up 45 runs in the process.
(One A's pitcher, Bruno "Boon" Haas, set one of baseball's unbreakable records when he walked 16 batters in his very first start on June 23, 1915. Amazingly, Mack gave him another start and used him in relief four times after that.)
If the remaining Athletics fans thought '15 was a bad season, they were in for a rude awakening. The 1916 version holds the 20th-century record for lowest winning percentage, .235 (36-117), even worse than the '62 Mets.
The pitching staff had two decent hurlers in the rotation, Elmer Myers (14-23) and "Bullet" Joe Bush (15-24 with 8 shutouts), who combined for 80 percent of the A's wins that year. Another youngster having the proverbial cup of coffee, James "Rube" Parnham - a native of Heidelberg, Pa., my wife's hometown - went 2-1. That left the rest of the staff with a composite of 5 wins and 68 losses.
Contributing to that abysmal showing were two other members of the rotation, Tom Sheehan and Mr. Nabors. Sheehan, who was named manager of the San Francisco Giants 44 years later, went 1-16. Nabors did even worse, losing 20 while winning just once.
Philadelphia sportswriters apparently had a ball trying to describe what they were seeing on the field. Here's part of a late-season article that appeared in The Philadelphia Inquirer following a loss to the Washington Senators:
Elongated Jack Nabors tried hard enough to stave off defeat No. 115 for the Athletics yesterday, but pop-eyed support by [shortstop Lawton] Witt and [second baseman Roy] Grover enabled two Washingtonians to travel the 360 feet of pathway around the diamond and these runs were sufficient enough to give the Senators their second victory over the much-abused Mackmen. The final verdict was 4 to 1, the other two markers being compiled in the ninth, when Rube Bressler, who succeeded Nabors in this round, gave a weird exhibition of pitching.
Had Jack been flawlessly supported the Senators would not have reached the counting station. Grover's fumble of Menesky's [actually, "Leaping" Mike Menosky's] roller in the sixth, when two were down and a man on second, set the stage for [outfielder Elmer] Smith to single in the first counter for the Capital brigade. In the very next inning "Whitey" Witt, who showed up poorly all day, erred on [Howard] Shanks' bouncer and that bull blossomed into the second tally scored on Nabors. ...
It was one of Nabors' best exhibitions, for he forgot to pass a man, eliminated wild pitches from his repertoire and in general behaved with all the skill and cunning a regular moundsman uses in his daily labors.
Gotta love that old-time sportswriting!
That turned out to be the last start for "Elongated" Jack (listed at 6-foot-3, very tall for the time). He returned for two relief appearances for the A's in 1917 without a decision, then passed into the record books with a lifetime mark of 1-25. He died Nov. 20, 1923, one day after his 36th birthday.
Just for the record, the last surviving member of the worst team of the 20th century was outfielder James "Shag" Thompson, who died in 1990 at the age of 96. He hit .203 in 79 career at bats. (I couldn't find any information on the final disposition of outfielder James "Don" Brown, who appeared in 14 games. He was born in either 1893 or 1897, meaning he'd be 110 or 114 if he were alive today. Either way, that would be a record for former major-leaguers!)
Trivia question 44: What pitcher of the 1980s left the majors with an 0-16 career record?
Well, that's not really true. I've been fascinated with baseball's losers since long before I moved to Pittsburgh. Maybe that's because I couldn't hit a lick when I was a kid. Seriously, it was embarrassing ...
Anyway, on the heels of Joe Cleary and his 189.00 ERA, I present Jack Nabors, who had the misfortune of pitching for the Philadelphia Athletics after Connie Mack decided to divest his payroll of any players making more than what passed for minimum wage.
Look it up. The A's went from winning the American League pennant in 1914 to winning a whopping 43 games against 109 losses the following year, in a plunge that was even more precipitous than Wayne Huizenga's 1997-98 Florida Fish.
Mack's apologists say he was embarrassed by his team being swept by the "Miracle" Boston Braves (and miraculous they were) in the '14 Series, but the cleaning of the house probably had more to do with competition from the upstart Federal League and the probability that Connie's stars were going to try to squeeze more money out of him.
The pitching staff of the 1915 Athletics is an interesting one. No less than 27 hurlers took the mound for the team at some point during the season, in an era when teams general had four-man rotations and a couple of guys on hand for emergencies. And Mack was going for a staff that was uniformly wet behind the ears: Their average age was 22.
Nabors, in fact, was the oldest pitcher to appear for the A's that year, having turned 27 the previous Nov. 19. The native of Montevallo, Ala., made his major-league debut in 1915 and turned in an 0-5 record in five starts and two relief stints, giving up 45 runs in the process.
(One A's pitcher, Bruno "Boon" Haas, set one of baseball's unbreakable records when he walked 16 batters in his very first start on June 23, 1915. Amazingly, Mack gave him another start and used him in relief four times after that.)
If the remaining Athletics fans thought '15 was a bad season, they were in for a rude awakening. The 1916 version holds the 20th-century record for lowest winning percentage, .235 (36-117), even worse than the '62 Mets.
The pitching staff had two decent hurlers in the rotation, Elmer Myers (14-23) and "Bullet" Joe Bush (15-24 with 8 shutouts), who combined for 80 percent of the A's wins that year. Another youngster having the proverbial cup of coffee, James "Rube" Parnham - a native of Heidelberg, Pa., my wife's hometown - went 2-1. That left the rest of the staff with a composite of 5 wins and 68 losses.
Contributing to that abysmal showing were two other members of the rotation, Tom Sheehan and Mr. Nabors. Sheehan, who was named manager of the San Francisco Giants 44 years later, went 1-16. Nabors did even worse, losing 20 while winning just once.
Philadelphia sportswriters apparently had a ball trying to describe what they were seeing on the field. Here's part of a late-season article that appeared in The Philadelphia Inquirer following a loss to the Washington Senators:
Elongated Jack Nabors tried hard enough to stave off defeat No. 115 for the Athletics yesterday, but pop-eyed support by [shortstop Lawton] Witt and [second baseman Roy] Grover enabled two Washingtonians to travel the 360 feet of pathway around the diamond and these runs were sufficient enough to give the Senators their second victory over the much-abused Mackmen. The final verdict was 4 to 1, the other two markers being compiled in the ninth, when Rube Bressler, who succeeded Nabors in this round, gave a weird exhibition of pitching.
Had Jack been flawlessly supported the Senators would not have reached the counting station. Grover's fumble of Menesky's [actually, "Leaping" Mike Menosky's] roller in the sixth, when two were down and a man on second, set the stage for [outfielder Elmer] Smith to single in the first counter for the Capital brigade. In the very next inning "Whitey" Witt, who showed up poorly all day, erred on [Howard] Shanks' bouncer and that bull blossomed into the second tally scored on Nabors. ...
It was one of Nabors' best exhibitions, for he forgot to pass a man, eliminated wild pitches from his repertoire and in general behaved with all the skill and cunning a regular moundsman uses in his daily labors.
Gotta love that old-time sportswriting!
That turned out to be the last start for "Elongated" Jack (listed at 6-foot-3, very tall for the time). He returned for two relief appearances for the A's in 1917 without a decision, then passed into the record books with a lifetime mark of 1-25. He died Nov. 20, 1923, one day after his 36th birthday.
Just for the record, the last surviving member of the worst team of the 20th century was outfielder James "Shag" Thompson, who died in 1990 at the age of 96. He hit .203 in 79 career at bats. (I couldn't find any information on the final disposition of outfielder James "Don" Brown, who appeared in 14 games. He was born in either 1893 or 1897, meaning he'd be 110 or 114 if he were alive today. Either way, that would be a record for former major-leaguers!)
Trivia question 44: What pitcher of the 1980s left the majors with an 0-16 career record?
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Philadelphia story
Today's standings show the Pittsburgh Pirates in the lofty position of second place, a ranking that has a lot more to do with the mediocrity of the National League Central than anything the Buccos are doing.
No matter where they show up in the final standings, the Pirates are on their way to a 15th consecutive losing season, which will be only one year away from tying the major-league record.
The Phillies went from 1933 to 1948 without ever seeing .500, but that's only part of the story of the suffering of Philadelphia baseball fans.
Our story starts with the final out of the 1914 World Series, with the Philadelphia Athletics being swept in four straight games by the Boston Braves, a team that had been in last place in the National League as of mid-July. According to legend, A's manager/owner Connie Mack was so humiliated by his team's performance that he sold off most of his star players. More likely, Mack was feeling financial pressure from the Federal League, the last "third" major league, the presence of which was driving up salaries throughout baseball. Earlier in 1914, Mack had passed on acquiring a lefthanded pitcher who was tearing it up for the minor-league Baltimore Orioles. If Mack hadn't already been planning to dump payroll, George Herman Ruth might have spent his early career in Philadelphia.
As it turned out, the A's went into a free-fall of epic proportions in 1915, blundering their way to a 43-109 record. It got worse in 1916, when the Athletics fielded a team that compiled a winning percentage that was lower than the '62 Mets. One member of the pitching staff, Jack Nabors, lost 20 games while posting only a single victory. The A's went on to finish last in the American League a record seven straight seasons.
Meanwhile, the situation was much better across town, where the Phillies won their first pennant in 1915, losing to the Red Sox in the World Series. With Grover Cleveland Alexander winning at least 30 games annually from 1915-17, the future didn't look so bad.
All that changed when the Phils, wary of Alexander's draft status during World War I, traded him to the Cubs prior to the 1918 season. Sure enough, Alexander went into military service, but Chicago had the last laugh, making it to the World Series without much of a contribution from him. The Phillies, meanwhile, won 33 fewer games than the previous year. They stayed below .500 for 14 straight seasons.
Meanwhile, Mack decided to spend some money again in the mid-'20, including doing substantial business with the Orioles. In fact, he paid a then-record price to obtain another left-handed pitcher, Robert Moses Grove. With several future Hall of Famers on the squad, the A's won three straight pennants, 1929-31.
Even though the Athletics fell short in 1932, it was a milestone year for Philadelphia baseball, one of only two seasons between 1913 and when the A's bolted for Kansas City during which both of the city's major-league teams finished above .500. The Phils finished at 78-76, with star outfielder Chuck Klein winning the MVP award and having the rare distinction of leading the National League in home runs and stolen bases. He won the Triple Crown in 1933, but the cash-strapped Phillies shipped him to the Cubs after the season.
Blaming the Depression this time, Mack started dismantling his team again, and by 1934 the A's were below .500 again.
Thus began the most horrible stretch of baseball a city has had to endure, which might help explained the ingrained bitterness of Philadelphia fans. For 13 straight seasons, neither the A's nor the Phillies came anywhere near cracking the .500 mark. The Phils finally moved out of the half-century-old ballpark known as the Baker Bowl in 1938, but it didn't help matters. The team lost more than 100 games five straight seasons, culminating with a wretched '42 club that finished 42-109 while finishing last in batting average, earned run average and fielding average.
The final year of World War II might have been the worst of all for Philadelphia. Both teams finished dead last, the Phillies at 46-108 the A's slightly better at 52-98.
Mack's team had a bit of a resurgence in the late '40s, winning more than it lost each year from 1947-49. But it was back to the basement in 1950, and after managing the franchise since the day it started operating in 1901, the 87-year-old Mack, who attended every game dressed in a shirt with starched collar instead of a uniform, finally called it quits.
The Phillies meanwhile started winning, too, after finally producing a decent crop of young players, including future Hall of Famers Richie Ashburn and Robin Roberts. The so-called Whiz Kids finally made it back to the World Series in 1950, although the celebration was short-lived, as they were swept by the Yankees.
So, Pittsburgh fans, it could be a lot worse for you. That's not to say it won't in the future ...
No matter where they show up in the final standings, the Pirates are on their way to a 15th consecutive losing season, which will be only one year away from tying the major-league record.
The Phillies went from 1933 to 1948 without ever seeing .500, but that's only part of the story of the suffering of Philadelphia baseball fans.
Our story starts with the final out of the 1914 World Series, with the Philadelphia Athletics being swept in four straight games by the Boston Braves, a team that had been in last place in the National League as of mid-July. According to legend, A's manager/owner Connie Mack was so humiliated by his team's performance that he sold off most of his star players. More likely, Mack was feeling financial pressure from the Federal League, the last "third" major league, the presence of which was driving up salaries throughout baseball. Earlier in 1914, Mack had passed on acquiring a lefthanded pitcher who was tearing it up for the minor-league Baltimore Orioles. If Mack hadn't already been planning to dump payroll, George Herman Ruth might have spent his early career in Philadelphia.
As it turned out, the A's went into a free-fall of epic proportions in 1915, blundering their way to a 43-109 record. It got worse in 1916, when the Athletics fielded a team that compiled a winning percentage that was lower than the '62 Mets. One member of the pitching staff, Jack Nabors, lost 20 games while posting only a single victory. The A's went on to finish last in the American League a record seven straight seasons.
Meanwhile, the situation was much better across town, where the Phillies won their first pennant in 1915, losing to the Red Sox in the World Series. With Grover Cleveland Alexander winning at least 30 games annually from 1915-17, the future didn't look so bad.
All that changed when the Phils, wary of Alexander's draft status during World War I, traded him to the Cubs prior to the 1918 season. Sure enough, Alexander went into military service, but Chicago had the last laugh, making it to the World Series without much of a contribution from him. The Phillies, meanwhile, won 33 fewer games than the previous year. They stayed below .500 for 14 straight seasons.
Meanwhile, Mack decided to spend some money again in the mid-'20, including doing substantial business with the Orioles. In fact, he paid a then-record price to obtain another left-handed pitcher, Robert Moses Grove. With several future Hall of Famers on the squad, the A's won three straight pennants, 1929-31.
Even though the Athletics fell short in 1932, it was a milestone year for Philadelphia baseball, one of only two seasons between 1913 and when the A's bolted for Kansas City during which both of the city's major-league teams finished above .500. The Phils finished at 78-76, with star outfielder Chuck Klein winning the MVP award and having the rare distinction of leading the National League in home runs and stolen bases. He won the Triple Crown in 1933, but the cash-strapped Phillies shipped him to the Cubs after the season.
Blaming the Depression this time, Mack started dismantling his team again, and by 1934 the A's were below .500 again.
Thus began the most horrible stretch of baseball a city has had to endure, which might help explained the ingrained bitterness of Philadelphia fans. For 13 straight seasons, neither the A's nor the Phillies came anywhere near cracking the .500 mark. The Phils finally moved out of the half-century-old ballpark known as the Baker Bowl in 1938, but it didn't help matters. The team lost more than 100 games five straight seasons, culminating with a wretched '42 club that finished 42-109 while finishing last in batting average, earned run average and fielding average.
The final year of World War II might have been the worst of all for Philadelphia. Both teams finished dead last, the Phillies at 46-108 the A's slightly better at 52-98.
Mack's team had a bit of a resurgence in the late '40s, winning more than it lost each year from 1947-49. But it was back to the basement in 1950, and after managing the franchise since the day it started operating in 1901, the 87-year-old Mack, who attended every game dressed in a shirt with starched collar instead of a uniform, finally called it quits.
The Phillies meanwhile started winning, too, after finally producing a decent crop of young players, including future Hall of Famers Richie Ashburn and Robin Roberts. The so-called Whiz Kids finally made it back to the World Series in 1950, although the celebration was short-lived, as they were swept by the Yankees.
So, Pittsburgh fans, it could be a lot worse for you. That's not to say it won't in the future ...
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