Bad Boys, Bad Times. Scott H. LongertЧитать онлайн книгу.
any immediate surgery. Manager O’Neill had begun the season with Allen as his ace and Feller a likely candidate for number two. In just a few weeks the only healthy pitchers were veterans Mel Harder and Earl Whitehill. Denny Galehouse, still learning the ropes, would be pressed into immediate service.
Three days after Allen went down, the Indians faced the Washington Senators. Mel Harder pitched a decent game, going six and two-third innings while allowing five runs, three earned. His teammates played little defense, committing four errors, including one by each of the infielders. Roy Weatherly added to the sloppy play, heaving a throw from center field to the wrong base, which allowed runners to advance into scoring position. A frustrated Steve O’Neill severely chewed out Weatherly when he came back to the dugout.
Reliever Joe Heving replaced Harder and held the Senators in check for the next three and a third innings, leaving with the score deadlocked at 5–5. Newly acquired Carl Fischer took the mound for the top of the eleventh, promptly walking Ben Chapman. Buddy Lewis singled, then Joe Kuhel sacrificed the runners to second and third. After a strikeout of Jon Stone, Steve O’Neill had now seen enough of Fischer, and motioned for Whitlow Wyatt to enter the game. The situation worsened as Wyatt gave up a base on balls to Al Simmons. The fans at League Park squirmed in their seats when Ben Chapman inched down the third-base line. Wyatt began his delivery as if there was nobody on base. All three runners took off, with Chapman sliding effortlessly home ahead of the pitch. Incredibly, a rare triple steal had just been executed against the hapless Indians. Three straight base hits followed, forcing O’Neill to go to the bullpen once more. Long-time veteran Willis Hudlin entered the game, serving up a single and a double before finally retiring the Senators.
Seven big runs had just crossed the plate against three miserable Indian relievers. The frustrated crowd let go with a steady chorus of jeers while the home team, heads bowed low, trotted off the field. The Senators won by a lopsided score of 12–5. Tomorrow’s newspapers were sure to be filled with some extra-colorful reporting.
Those fans who picked up a copy of the Cleveland News were aghast to read Ed McAuley’s headline feature. It was an open letter addressed to Manager Steve O’Neill, titled “Get Mad Steve and Stay Mad!” McAuley had gone over the edge in a massive critique of the Indians manager. The sports editor accused O’Neill of being easy on his players, allowing them too much freedom on and off the field. He warned that if this type of lax authority continued, a change in managers just might occur. McAuley wrote, “I don’t want the public or anyone else to fire you Steve, and that’s why I’m taking the liberty of speaking frankly.”
The revealing open letter cited numerous examples of Indians ballplayers making foolish mistakes on the base paths. Later in the piece McAuley briefly tried to tone down his ire by adding, “I am not trying to second-guess. You’ve made some mistakes Steve. You haven’t played the percentages like you did last season.” McAuley gave further space to the lax attitude the players seemed to be carrying with them. He noted a recent road trip where, after some tough losses, the Indians were enjoying themselves on the train home, wolfing down steaks and playing poker without a care. Apparently McAuley believed O’Neill should have stepped in and ripped the players for having a good time.
McAuley heaped more criticism on the manager, dredging up the 12–5 loss to Washington and all the gaffes perpetrated by the bungling infielders and pitcher Wyatt. Though in some ways the sports editor was trying to be a cheerleader, the open letter, taken as a whole, was a hatchet job of epic proportions.
Fans were quick to respond. Letters poured into the Cleveland News offices defending O’Neill. One fan wrote, “I was astounded and shocked to read in the big type in the News last night Mr. McAuley’s gratuitous and hypocritical advice to manager Steve O’Neill. If the Indians could have a one month moratorium on Mr. McAuley and the other press box experts, then the ball team might have a reasonable chance to show what it has.”
Another fan explained the season had barely started. It was not the time to be calling for the manager’s head. The letter asked how O’Neill could be responsible for the Yankees having much better players. Or how he could stop his pitchers from falling asleep on the mound? The fan ended by adapting Alva Bradley’s now-famous line, “The owner hires the manager, but the fans fire him.” The letter concluded, “The fans fire the manager, maybe the fans can fire you too.”
Steve O’Neill had just begun his second full year of managing the Cleveland Indians, after assuming the job in August of 1935 when Walter Johnson was fired. He had spent seventeen years in the American League as a top-flight catcher, playing the great majority of his career with Cleveland. In the 1920 championship season, he caught an incredible 149 games while batting over .300. In his long stint in the Majors, O’Neill gained a reputation as one of the toughest catchers in all of baseball. He blocked home plate with a ferocity rarely seen. Opposing managers screamed at the umpires when he shifted his body into the baseline even before he had the baseball. Runners dashed home and collided with the broad-shouldered catcher, who rarely dropped a throw. Ed McAuley had really gone out on a limb in questioning the toughness of Steve O’Neill.
Just a few days after the article and fans’ response, the Indians entertained the Yankees at League Park. The arrival of Gehrig and company and the initial Ladies Day of the season boosted the Friday crowd to over 15,000. The women marched to the ballpark two hours early with boxed lunches and decks of playing cards to keep busy until game time. More often than not, juicy red apples, ripe bananas, and large pieces of cake were delivered by the ladies to Jack Graney in the WHK radio booth. If he was in a generous mood, some of the bounty would find its way into the Indian clubhouse, where the players devoured the prize.
Denny Galehouse opened the game for Cleveland. A Yankee base hit brought cleanup hitter Lou Gehrig to the plate. In the off-season Gehrig had gone Hollywood, auditioning to replace actor Johnny Weissmuller in the popular Tarzan features. Although Lou did not pass the screen test, photos of him in the famous loincloth appeared in newspapers throughout the country. When Gehrig stepped into the batter’s box, a large group of ladies stood up and gave the Tarzan yell. Laughter rocked the stands while Gehrig stood at home plate, staring at the crowd.
In the bottom of the first, the Indians added to the good-humored mood at the park by hammering New York pitcher Bump Hadley for five runs. Earl Averill belted a home run in the fourth inning to make the score 6–0. Galehouse blanked the Yankees for seven innings until he ran out of gas in the eighth. After one run had scored, George Selkirk clouted a three-run homer to cut the lead to 6–4. Manager O’Neill called for reliever Carl Fischer. The thirty-one-year-old pitcher had bounced around the American League, doing time with Washington, St. Louis, and Detroit. He looked fairly good in Cleveland’s spring training and subsequently made the club as a late-inning option. He entered the game with Tony Lazzeri at first and Roy Johnson batting. The Indians fans were no longer smiling from ear to ear. They cringed as Johnson lined a base hit, moving Lazzeri to second.
Fischer stood rigid on the mound, waiting for the sign from catcher Frankie Pytlak. He continued to stare at home plate, oblivious to the runners. Lazzeri, now an aging veteran with heavy legs, took off for third, stealing the base with ease. Steve O’Neill flew out of the dugout and raged at his relief pitcher. Whether he was taking Ed McAuley’s advice to get mad or simply asserting himself, he screamed at Fischer to go to the clubhouse and pack his bags. Fischer’s days with Cleveland were abruptly over.
In the bottom half of the inning, Pytlak doubled and came home on a single by Roy Weatherly. That made the score 7–4, with the Yankees coming to bat in the ninth. Pitcher Earl Whitehill came in to close out the game. With one out and a runner on first, Joe DiMaggio grounded to third, where Sammy Hale fielded the ball and fired to second to start a game-ending double play. But shortstop Lyn Lary inexplicably dropped the throw. To further complicate matters, Whitehill walked Lou Gehrig to load the bases. Bill Dickey stepped to the plate with a chance to do some real harm. Instead, he hit a soft bouncer right back to the mound. Whitehill had only to whip the ball home for the force play and give Pytlak a chance to throw to first to end the game. For some odd reason, he chose to whirl around and throw to second. Lary barely fielded the throw, touched second, then fired in the dirt to first baseman Hal Trosky. The ball got under Trosky’s glove and rolled into foul territory.