1924 World Series: A Rock in a Great Place

The Teams
American League: Washington Senators (92-62) - First World Series
National League: New York Giants (93-60) - Ninth World Series (Won in 1905, 1921, 1922)

What Happened
With the Senators trailing 3-1 in the eighth inning of Game 7, Washington player-manager Bucky Harris stepped to the plate with the bases loaded and two outs. If the Senators were going to do this, now would be the time. They didn't have much offense, so they would need their manager, their leader, to come through when it mattered the most. Harris hit one hard down the third base line, well hit but right at Giants third baseman Freddie Lindstrom. Lindstrom was in position, ready to scoop the ball and step on third for the easy force, and the inning would be over and with it, most likely, the Senators' season. But just as Lindstrom was about to get his glove on it, the ball hit a pebble and bounded over his head, going far enough into left field for two runs to score. The Senators had life again.

After the craziness that he first six games of the series brought, it must have seemed that the pebble that changed the entire course of the 1924 World Series was placed there by fate. The series had already seen four games where the team trailing entering the ninth inning mounted a rally, and twice those rallies made it all the way home. A series that had started with more than its share of good storylines - would the great Walter Johnson finally win his World Series? Would the Giants become the second team to win three titles in four seasons? - had erased all subplot. Now, the only question that mattered was "what would happened next?"

What happened next, after Harris' hit bounced off that pebble and over Lindstrom's glove, was the most predictable dramatic entrance in baseball history. After throwing complete games in Game 1 and 5, Johnson wasn't expected to be available for Game 7 (wink, wink), but there he was, taking the mound for the top of the ninth, hoping to lock down Washington's first World Series.

There was really nobody else who could be on the mound, either. For most of their time in baseball, Walter Johnson and the Washington Senators were synonymous; you couldn't mention one without the other, often for negative reasons. Like: "Oh, the Senators are in town! I wonder if Johnson is pitching." Or: "It's too bad Johnson is stuck on the Senators. His brilliance is wasted on that sorry team."

The Senators weren't sorry in 1924. While Babe Ruth continued his rampage against American League pitching, the rest of his Yankees teammates fell off from their standards of the previous three seasons, leaving an opening at the top of the American League that the Senators were all too happy to fill. It didn't matter that they were facing the four-time defending National League champion Giants int he World Series - the Senators had Johnson for at least two of the games, possibly three, and they were confident that would be enough.

But they entered Game 7 with Johnson still looking for his first postseason victory, and they entered the eighth inning of Game 7 trailing, looking for all the World like they would blow their great pitcher's only chance at a title. But Harris' grounder hit that pebble, and two runs scored, and suddenly they were in extra innings with a fresh Johnson on the mound.

Johnson gave up a one-out triple in the ninth inning, but pitched out of it. New York got two runners on base against Johnson in the 11th, but Johnson pitched out of it. Meanwhile, the Senators showed no interest in mounting a rally on their own. They seemed to forget that a pitcher can only throw the ball, that he can't be expected to score a run on his own.

Finally, they got the break that woke them from their slumber. You know how on popups behind the plate, you'll see the catcher hold his mask as long as possible, throwing it off to the side only at the last possible moment? That happens for a reason, and that reason happened in the bottom of the 12th in Game 7, when Giants catcher Hank Gowdy tripped over his discarded mask and was unable to corral Muddy Ruel's foul popup. Given new life, Ruel ripped a double to left field and found himself standing at second base, representing the World Series-winning run, as Johnson stepped to the plate.

Now, it would have been wonderfully poetic if Johnson had gotten the hit that gave the Senators their first championship, if he had driven in the run that put the exclamation point on his career. But whoever was writing the script for the 1924 World Series didn't have time for poetry. Johnson hit the ball, sure, but it was right at shortstop Travis Jackson. Jackson bobbled the ball, allowing Johnson to reach first, but since Ruel didn't advance, the error had the same effect as an intentional walk. It set up a force play at any base, and it brought Earl McNeely to the plate.

McNeely hit one hard down the third base line, well hit but right at Giants third baseman Freddie Lindstrom. Lindstrom was in position, ready to scoop the ball and step on third for the easy force and maybe look toward first for the double play. But just as Lindstrom was about to get his glove on it, the ball hit a pebble and bounded over his head, going far enough into left field to allow Ruel to score the World Series-winning run.

It was a remarkable coincidence, having two different balls in two different innings take the same bad hop to cost a team the game. Years later, Lindstrom swore both balls bounced off the same pebble, which brings up the question of why he didn't throw the pebble out of play after the first hit. Whether they hit the same rock or not, the fact remained that two different hits took bad hops at nearly identical spots in the infield, gifting the Senators three runs and giving them their first - and, as it turned out, only - World Championship.

Washington forever has owed its only World Championship to a well-placed pebble in the Griffith Stadium infield, which makes them seem like the beneficiaries of luck. But the city will always be able to point to one thing to refute claims of luck. The winning pitcher of Game 7, the pitcher who got the decision the only time the city of Washington won a baseball championship, was the great Walter Johnson. 

MVP
Since I'm not in the mood to name a pebble as the World Series MVP, it's really a tossup between Harris and Goose Goslin. Both had 11 hits and 7 runs batted in, and between the two of them hit the only five home runs the Senators hit in the series. Since they were so close, it's likely that had there been such a vote, it probably would have gone to Harris, considering he played well and managed the team.

Scores 
(Home team shaded; winners in Bold)

New York	4 (12)	3	6	4	6	1	3
Washington	3	4	4	7	2	2	4 (12)

The List
I'm ranking all the World Series, from worst to best. Here are the ones I've done so far:

3. 1924 - Washington (A) def. New York (N) 4-3
4. 2001 - Arizona (N) def. New York (A) 4-3
5. 2011 - St. Louis (N) def. Texas (A) 4-3
6. 1912 - Boston (A) def. New York (N) 4-3 (1 tie)
7. 1992 - Toronto (A) def. Atlanta (N) 4-2
8. 1947 - New York (A) def. Brooklyn (N) 4-3
9. 1972 - Oakland (A) def. Cincinnati (N) 4-3
Numbers 10-19
Numbers 20-29
Numbers 30-39
Numbers 40-49
Numbers 50-59
Numbers 60-69
Numbers 70-79
Numbers 80-89
Numbers 90-99
Numbers 100-107

Game 7s
Simultaneously, I'll rank all the Game 7s. The ones that have appeared in my countdown so far:

2. 2001: Arizona 3, New York (A) 2
3. 1960: Pittsburgh 10, New York (A) 9
4. 1924: Washington 4, New York (N) 3
5. 1997: Florida 3, Cleveland 2
6. 1912: Boston (A) 3, New York (N) 2 (game 8)
7. 1946: St. Louis (N) 4, Boston (A) 3
9. 1925: Pittsburgh 9, Washington 7
10. 1926: St. Louis (N) 3, New York (A) 2
11. 1962: New York (A) 1, San Francisco 0
12. 1979: Pittsburgh 4, Baltimore 1
13. 1955: Brooklyn 2, New York (A) 0
14. 1952: New York (A) 4, Brooklyn 2
15. 1971: Pittsburgh 2, Baltimore 1
16. 1940: Cincinnati 2, Detroit 1
17. 1972: Oakland 3, Cincinnati 2
18. 1987: Minnesota 4, St. Louis 2
19. 1958: New York 6, Milwaukee 2
20. 1986: New York (N) 8, Boston 5 
21. 1968: Detroit 4, St. Louis 1
22. 1931: St. Louis (N) 4, Philadelphia (A) 2
23. 1973: Oakland 5, New York (N) 2
24. 2002: Anaheim 4, San Francisco 1
25. 1982: St. Louis 6, Milwaukee 3
26. 1947: New York (A) 5, Brooklyn 2
27. 2011: St. Louis 6, Texas 2
28. 1965: Los Angeles (A) 2, Minnesota 0
29. 1964: St. Louis 7, New York (A) 5
30. 1957: Milwaukee 5, New York (A) 0
31. 1967: St. Louis 7, Boston 2
32. 1945: Detroit 9, Chicago (N) 3
33. 1909: Pittsburgh 8, Detroit 0
34. 1934: St. Louis (N) 11, Detroit 0 
35. 1985: Kansas City 11, St. Louis 0
36. 1956: New York (A) 9, Brooklyn 0

1925 World Series: The Big Train, Stuck in the Mud

The Teams
National League: Pittsburgh Pirates (95-58) - Fourth World Series (won in 1909)
American League: Washington Senators (96-55) - Second World Series (won in 1924)

What Happened
The rain was pouring down in the sixth inning of Game 7. The field was a quagmire, and visibility was so poor that you couldn't see the outfielders from  home plate. With the Senators leading 6-4 and the rain showing no sign of letting up, baseball commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis turned to Washington owner Clark Griffith and said "Congratulations, you're World Champions. I'm calling this game."

Had that decision stuck, it would have been the first logical thing Landis did that day, however unpopular a rain-shortened seventh game might have been. The truth of the matter is that the game never should have been played in the first place. The rain had started before the first pitch, and the grounds crew was using sawdust in an attempt to mop up puddles in the infield before the teams even took the field. But Landis didn't want to disappoint the fans who had braved the elements to see a Game 7, so the game was played as scheduled.

It quickly turned into a farce. After three walks, two wild pitches, and a throwing error, the Senators had a 4-0 lead before the Pirates even came to bat. They then handed the soaking wet ball to the great Walter Johnson, who had already shut down the Pirates twice in the series. But even the Big Train wasn't immune to the elements. Before too long, the combination of sawdust and mud made the American League's greatest pitcher look like he was covered in oatmeal in what would become the last postseason game of his career.

The Pirates got scored three runs off Johnson in the third, saw Washington get two runs back in the fourth, then scored one in the fifth. That put the score at 6-4 in the sixth inning, when Landis decided he had seen enough. Except Griffith wasn't having any of it. He didn't want to win the title in a rain-shortened game for fear it would be considered tainted. He declined the commissioner's offer, and the teams played on.

He should have taken the offer. Washington shortstop Roger Peckinpagh dropped a popup while slipping in the mud to open up the bottom of the seventh, opening the floodgates; the damage only stopped when, after hitting a game-tying triple, Pittsburgh's Pie Traynor was thrown out trying to stretch it into a home run. Peckinpagh redeemed himself by hitting a home run in the top of the eighth, but it all fell apart in the bottom of the inning. After two straight outs, the Pirates hit two straight doubles to tie the game. After a walk, Peckinpagh committed a throwing error on what should have been the final out, loading the bases.

Then came the strangest World Series-winning hit in history. Kiki Cuyler lifted a deep flyball down the left field line ... and the umpires lost track of where it went. Remember, the outfielders couldn't see home plate most of the game, so tracking a white - ok, mud-covered - baseball must have been impossible. When the umpires couldn't track Cuyler's hit, they decided it must have bounced into the crowd for a ground-rule double. The problem was, it was a foul ball. We know this because Washington left fielder Goose Goslin watched it land in foul territory, then stick in the mud. The umpires weren't moved, however - maybe they couldn't see Goslin arguing? - and the call stood. After Washington went down in order in the ninth, the Pirates were the World Champions.

..................

The muddy and controversial end to Game 7 has been overshadowed over the years by a single play by Washington outfielder Sam Rice in Game 3. With Washington clinging to a 4-3 lead, Earl Smith hit a blast to deep right center which Rice tracked down and got to just as he was falling over the wall and into the stands. For several moments, nobody knew what had happened, until finally Rice emerged from the crowd holding the ball. With no evidence to the contrary, the umpires ruled it a catch, one that helped Washington win the game. For years afterwards, Rice wouldn't say whether he held onto the ball, saying only that he would someday. When he died in 1974, among his possessions was a sealed letter from Rice, stating that at no point did he let go of the ball.

MVP
Had Griffith accepted Landis' offer and ended Game 7 in the 6th inning, Johnson would have been the undoubted MVP. After striking out 10 in a Game 1 victory, he threw a shutout in Game 4 to give the Senators a 3-1 series lead. But two straight Pirate made Game 7 necessary, and in Game 7, Johnson finally ran out of luck. Or, he ran out of good weather. Instead, the award goes to Pittsburgh's speedy center fielder Max Carey. He led all players with a .458 average and 3 stolen bases and was the best player on the field in Game 7, going 4-for-5 with three doubles off Johnson and scoring the tying run in the seventh and the game's final run in the ninth.
 
Scores
(Home team shaded; winners in Bold)

Washington	4	2	4	4	3	2	7
Pittsburgh	1	3	3	0	6	3	9

The List
I'm ranking all the World Series, from worst to best. Here are the ones I've done so far:

29. 1925 - Pittsburgh (N) def. Washington (A) 4-3
Numbers 30-39
Numbers 40-49
Numbers 50-59
Numbers 60-69
Numbers 70-79
Numbers 80-89
Numbers 90-99
Numbers 100-107

Game 7s
Simultaneously, I'll rank all the Game 7s. The ones that have appeared in my countdown so far:

9. 1925: Pittsburgh 9, Washington 7
12. 1979: Pittsburgh 4, Baltimore 1
13. 1955: Brooklyn 2, New York (A) 0
16. 1940: Cincinnati 2, Detroit 1
18. 1987: Minnesota 4, St. Louis 2
19. 1958: New York 6, Milwaukee 2
21. 1968: Detroit 4, St. Louis 1
22. 1931: St. Louis (N) 4, Philadelphia (A) 2
26. 1982: St. Louis 6, Milwaukee 3
28. 1965: Los Angeles (A) 2, Minnesota 0
29. 1964: St. Louis 7, New York (A) 5
30. 1957: Milwaukee 5, New York (A) 0
31. 1967: St. Louis 7, Boston 2
32. 1945: Detroit 9, Chicago (N) 3
33. 1909: Pittsburgh 8, Detroit 0
34. 1934: St. Louis (N) 11, Detroit 0 
36. 1985: Kansas City 11, St. Louis 0

February 2, 1936: The first five

COOPERSTOWN, N.Y. - Cobb, Ruth, Wagner, Mathewson, Johnson. The five faces that would be on baseball's Mount Rushmore, the true giants of the game. Any argument of the greatest players of all time include these five players, who are forever linked in baseball history as the first Hall of Famers.

After a hastily gathered history of baseball was published incorrectly saying that the sport was invented in Cooperstown, N.Y., in 1839 by future Civil War general Abner Doubleday, the leaders of baseball decided to celebrate the fictional centennial of the non-event by opening a museum in Cooperstown dedicated to the best players in the history of the game. It would be called the Baseball Hall of Fame, and the organizers decided to elect five players per year, starting in 1936, plus five players from the 1800s, so that there would be 20 players to enter the Hall when it officially opened in 1939.

So the Hall of Fame ballots were sent out in December of 1935 to 226 baseball writers, and the first Hall of Fame class was announced on February 2, 1936: Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Honus Wagner, Christy Mathewson, and Walter Johnson. Nobody was surprised at the five players who got in first - all were deserving, and all considered, at one point in their careers, to be the best player of all time. The only truly surprising snub was Cy Young, which happened because voters weren't sure whether to put him in with the players from the 1800s or the 1900s (that oversight was fixed the next year, and Young earned his rightful place in the Hall).

Perhaps the biggest surprise, though, was the final count of votes. When the ballots were tallied, it was Cobb, not Ruth, who received the most votes. Eleven voters had left Ruth off the ballot, which seemed impossible, even when you consider Ruth's less-than-glorious final season in 1935. Even Cobb was left off of four ballots.

Final numbers aside, the five chosen were seen as perfect candidates to inagurate the Hall of Fame. By the time the museum opened in 1939, they had been joined by Young, Nap Lajoie, and Tris Speaker (1937); Pete Alexander (1938); George Sisler, Eddie Collins, and Willie Keeler (1939), plus managers Connie Mack and John McGraw.

Though the reasons for starting it are now seen as flawed, the Baseball Hall of Fame has become the Mecca for baseball fans around America. Every major and minor sport in America now has a Hall of Fame - there's even a Dog Hall of Fame - and they can all trace their existence to baseball's museum.

The first Hall of Famers: Top row (l to r): Wagner, Alexander, Speaker, Lajoie, Sisler, Johnson. Bottom row: Collins, Ruth, Mack, Young. Not picture: John McGraw had died before being inducted, and Ty Cobb was running late and missed the picture.