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"CAP" ANSON'S

FORTY YEARS IN BASEBALL

Dedicated to all my old comrade* and loven of the sport, who have made the game what it is today.

tinue to "play ball" after we oldtimers have struck out for the last time.

ADRIAN C. ANSON.

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bt, 1911, by the McClure Newspaper STndlctite it 'Britainand Cnn«u1a

ivnr CHAPTER V.

I Play My First Professional Game. Somehow or other I don't exactly kuow how I have gained the reputation of being a believer In baseball trickery. Now I don't deny that I have in my past career resorted to certain little innocent devices to make matters interesting, but I decline to stand for the various kinds of skullduggery on the ball ground that have been ascribed to me from away back.

On one occasion, however, I must plead guilty to the charge of having made the attempt to deceive, and it •was no fault of mine that I failed to turn the trick. It was shortly qifter I tad signed with the Forest Citys, and If I had been detected in my attempt it might have been rather a serious handicap to my professional career. At that time rivalry ran high between the Des Moines and Clinton teams and both towns were worked up to a fever of excitement. For the time being baseball had become the chief interest in these enterprising Iowa cities.

A match game was on between these rival teams. Every possible means to make its nine more efficient was being resorted to by each club, including some, perhapn, that wouldn't bear

THE PROFESSOR SOQM I GOT BUSY,

the light of day. An instance in point :was the offer to me to play with the Clinton team, with a bait of $50 attached to the tail of it. I was only a boy, and the money looked as big as mountain to me. Besides, I had no special affection for the Des Moines outfit, bearing In mind the tough itreatment we had been given when we recovered the trophy. Without taking itlme to consider I agreed to go into 'the game.

It soon occurred to me that it would 'never do to play ball with the Clin!tons as A. C. Anson, member of the

Forest Citys. It would be easy enough 'to pick up a name for the occasion, but my red poll and long legs were too familiar in state baseball to bubs unnoticed. It would be necessary for me to disguise myBelf. Right there I was up against a problem that kept me awake nights.

One thing was clear—whatever I did in the way of disguise would have to be pulled off between the time 1 ileft home and train time. Finally I hit on a scheme that looked so good to me that I resolved to try It.. I would have my hair dyed just before taking the train for the capital. Of course every member of the Clinton club was sworn to eeoreoy, and I |bound_ the. Marahalltown barber with

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an oath that made him turn pale as he repeated It after me. About an hour before train time I sneaked into the barber shop, and the professor soon got busy on his job. It was a matter of half an hour or so, pnd I kept warning him against leaving any traoes of the original Anson. When I rose from the chair and caught the.first glimpse of myself In the glass I saw that he had done as I had requested him to do. My hair, originally a sort of carroty blond, had been transformed into an Inky purple, with streaks here and there of what appeared to be a muddy green. Some of the dye had adhered to the upper part of my forehead, and the whole effect was ridiculous In the extreme. "Fine!" pronounced the professor, enthusiastically. "Your own father wouldn't know you."

He was mistaken about that. Halfway between the barber shop and the station I came face to face with the old gentleman, and I saw at once by the perplexed and horrified look on his face that he recognized me all right. "What the have you been doing to yourself?" he demanded between a gasp and sputter.

The jig was up. I had to confess, and the afterclap was both sudden and decided. "Get home as quick as you can. Don't let the grass grow under your feet!" was the verdict.

There was nothing to do but do, and I did it. Afterward the old gentleman read me a lecture that I have never forgotten. His manner was most dignified and kindly, but his words struck home with lots of force. He pointed out to me that my conduct was dishonest and would be regarded so by the public. In fact, he made me so ashamed of myself that I have been pretty careful ever since to fight shy of shady transactions. I couldn't help feeling sad over the $50 that I didn't get, but afterward, when I came to think it all over, I was glad that I had failed. Getting rid of that hair dye and keeping the affair from becoming public property were altogether different matters.

I shall never forget my first experience in my new position. I had been at Rockford only a day or so when I was ordered to report at the ball grounds for practice. It was early in the spring and so chilly that an overcoat was a necessity. I found when I reached the grounds that my ability as a batsman was -going to be tested, and as I took my stand on the plate I shivered as though I was coming down with the ague. It wasn't all due to the cold, either stage fright was responsible for part of it. Don't forget, please, that I was only a big kid, a stranger in a strange land, and that I was so anxious to make a first good impression that I was almost powerless.

Facing me, with a sardonic look on his weather beaten face, was "Cherokee" Fisher, a man of whom I had always stood in the greatest awe, one of the best of the old time underhand pitchers. In the stand were the directors of the team, who were taking in with an eagle eye my every movement. It was a trying position for a greenhorn, and I could feel my knees knock together. I remember I had some trouble in picking out a bat that suited me. I was wondering all the time whether or not I should be able to hit the ball. Finally I gave the signal to let her go and Fisher began sending them in with his customary speed.

I began by letting a couple go by. Then I sent one out into the right field, and that first hit put me square on my feet. After that I batted Fisher so successfully that everybody was satisfied and I was informed that I would do. I didn't know it at the time, but In after years I learned that the hit to the right field fence was considered the proper caper.

My first game as a professional was played on the Rockford grounds in 1871, our opponents being the Forest City team of Cleveland, O., a strong organization that finished fourth that season on the list for championship honors, the Athletics of Philadelphia, with whom I was to play for the following four years, carrying oft the prize. I don't mind telling you that when that game began I was frightened almost out of my shoes. I had been Informed at the last minute that owing to the non-arrival of our regular catcher I would be expected to fill the place, something in which I had had little experience. We were beaten fey

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a score of 12 fo 4, but I had the satisfaction' of knowing that I played a fairly good game.

After that initial game I was never nervous over baseball. I settled down to play a steady game, and at the close of the season I led thn team both in batting and fielding. I learned more of the world and its inhabitants that season than I had ever known before. We traveled all over the east and west, and It was more instructive to me than all the schooling I had ever had. I made lots of friends all over the country and some of them were of great service to me in after days. We were treated very Well by the club managers, traveling In sleeping cars and stopping at good hotels. That was long before ball players had learned to demand the use of the bridal suite on their travels: and we did not grumble at two in a berth.

CHAPTER VI.

I Go to the Philadelphia Athletics. When I signed with the Forest Citys it was understood by the folks at home that at the end of the season I should go back to Notre Dame and do some studying. In fact, the old gentleman made that one of the conditions before he would consent to let me join the Rockford club. I don't remember what my original Intention was—I didn't usually think far enough ahead to have Intentions—but when the end of my first season of professional baseball arrived nothing short of a straltjacket could have taken me back to college. Sink or swim, I had cast my lot with the game and nothing on the little old planet was going to swerve me, now that my mind was made up.

I had some reason to feel that baseball was a substantial proposition. On several occasions during the past season I had been approached by managers of various clubs with offers that seemed almost fabulous to my youthful mind. What I really wanted, and tried my best to get, was a position with the Chicago club, then under the management of Tom Foley, the veteran billiard room keeper. Tom took my application as a Joke, and finally Informed me that he was looking for players of reputation and not for schoolboys with the baseball bug. Although I didn't know It at the time— I was mighty sore over my failure to get to Chicago—It so happened that old Tom's turndown was one of the most fortunate things that ever came my way.

The management of the Athletic club of Philadelphia had been keeping tab on my work with the Rockfords, and just before the close of the season I was offered the sum of $1,250 to play with that organization during the season of 1872. That offer looked mighty good to me. and 1 accepted with thanks. I didn't like to leave Rockford and the Forest. Citys, for I had found the people of the Hi tie Illinois city the squarest ever, but they couldn't afford to keep me, although I gave them the first show. They were not. certain that they would be- able to maintain a professional team any longer, and so I jumped at the Philadelphia offer.

I don't remAnber just why, but I didn't think it necessary to consult the home folks before 1 attached my name with spread eagle flourish to the Athletic contract. When the old gentleman, who was running the Anson house, heard of it his preliminary remarks, I was told by a witness, were,' "Something awful."' Devoted as he certainly was to the game, he didn't relish my way of doing things, and my latent exploit seemed to him' like open rebellta: Long before I revisited Marshalltown, five years later, he had forgotten all about niy un-

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filial conduct and that he had ever disapproved,of the course I had taken, without his co-operation.

Late In the fall I said goodby to Rockford and went to Philadelphia with the purpose of making myself fit for the coming season of baseball as I could do the trick. All that winter I worked hard in the gymnasium, only occasionally playing billiards and taking In the sights of the great city as a relaxation.

In spite of the fact that the season of 1871 had been the most prosperous In the history of baseball, there were many changes in the membership of the professional league. Some of the clubs had fallen by the wayside and there were several newcomers in the ranks. Conspicuous among the absentees was the Chicago club, which I had tried so hard to get into. The big fire of October, 1871, which nearly wiped the Queen of the Inland Seas off the map, left the city without a baseball organization. Had I succeeded in my attempt to break into the team I should have been stranded with the others. My old club, the Forest Citys of Rockford, was also among the missing, so that it seemed providential that I had gone to the City of Brotherly Love.

At the opening of the regular playing season the Professional league had 11 teams on its list, but when the season was over only six were left to tell the tale. These were the Athletics of Philadelphia, the Baltimores, the Bostons, the Mutuals of New York and the Atlantlcs and Eckfords of Brooklyn. The first four of these were regularly salaried clubs, but the Brooklyn organizations were co-operative affairs.

With the possible exception of the Bostons, the team of which I was a member in that season of 1872 was the strongest that had yet appeared on the diamond. I don't care to say that the acquisition of A. C. Anson had a mighty lot to do with this, but my record for that season showed that I played ball some. We were especially strong at the bat, for among the first eleven on the batting record that year we numbered six, the Bostons coming next with three, and the Baltimores following.

I don't mind saying right here that in some respects we were a mighty sight stronger than the Bostons. It was their team work that put them in the front. So far they seemed to be about the only club In the country that realized the value of good team work in winning a championship. If more time and attention had been given to this vital point I feel certain that the Athletics would have topped the list that year. At the very first game we played with them I got wise to their strength and our weakness, and I made up my mind that if ever I got control of a nine I would make team work a feature. I didn't forget it either when I reached the managerial stage of my career.

During that first season with the Athletics I played third base. The "Vhiladelphia folks, who had seen me play in that position with the Forest

Citys, evidently thought I was at my best at third, and I had an idea at the time that it was my strong hold. Since most of the men In the Athletics' makeup that year remained with the club as long as I did and were my constant companions during four years' professional playing this will be a good place to name them. Fortunately for me I had got the diary habit and the books are still In uif possession. As I look over those

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names, all baseball celebrities In the early seventies, I can't help comparing them with the best nines of the present, and I don't mind telling you that every man of them was a top notcher in his own particular way. Of course modesty compels me to make an exception of Anson, but I was learning to do a few entertaining stunts even at that early stage.

Malone, catcher McBride, pitcher Mack, first base Flsler, second base Anson, third base McGeary, shortstop Cuthbert, left field Tracey, center field Meyerle, right field. Can you beat it?

The first games I played with the Athletics were with the Baltimores, and I remember that our fielders didn't have a picnic by any means. The way those Maryland boys stood up to the racket made an Impression on me that I have never forgotten. At the close of the first game the score stood 34 to 19 in our favor and if there was any muscle In my make-up that didn't get into action on that occasion I have yet to learn its name and location. And all that was in spite of the faot that the ball was a "dead" one.

It didn't seem to worry the others especially, but it was a real blow to my system when the Bostons carried off Um championship that year. They

had played 49 games, wJning 38 and losing 11. We had taken part in 4G games, wining 30 and being beaten 16 times. The only consolation I had was to sit down and gaze fondly at my batting record. I had figured in 28 championship games and had finished fourth on the list of batsmen, with 47 base hits to my credit, an average of 1.67 to the game. Looking over the batting records of recent years, I don't find anything to make me blush over that early showing.

v^*» iWi 1

CHAPTER VII.

I Combine Baseball and Wild Oata. In the spring of 1873 our team started out with the united determination to give the Boston ehampls».is the struggle of their life to keep at the top of the list. All winter we had been preparing for the conflict, and we realized that in order to down the victors we must strengthen our weak places without damage to our strong ones. To accomplish this the management of the Athletics made a few changes in the make-up of the team. One of these was to put a new man named Fulton at third base, assigning me to shortstop. I suppose the Athletic folk had come to the conclusion that I was a sort of general utility man, playing equally well in any old position. I thought at the time they were mistaken, and I am of the same opinion still. You can take It from me that in baseball, as in most other professions, the jack-of-all-trades Is very apt to be master of none.

Although we had a mighty strong team—stronger, I think, than that of the preceding season—we failed to make as good a showing as we did in 1872. The Boston folks had outgeneraled us in our effort to fortify ourselves and they had been more liberal with their "rhino." Altogether we played 50 games that season, winning 27 and losing 23. Out of the 14 exhibition games we won 12 and lost two. Those two lost games were the gall and wormwood of the whole business —they were won by a rival club which had come into being, the Philadelphlans, who had robbed us of two of our most famous players, Malone and Mack, and had started business with the avowed intention of wiping us off the map.

Take it straight from me that the staid citizens of "old Phillie" were tickled to death over the baseball civil war that had broken out, and they just rooted themselves speechless at the final contest, which landed our rivals In seoond place, the score standing 5 to 4. We left the field that night as disgusted with the business of living on the earth as if we had been treated to a dose of lppecac. The season was all over now and we were halted In our march to overtake the once more victorious beaneaters. As before, I \vas about the only member of the team who could find a crumb of comfort—I was still fourth on the batting list, and that was something.

Now, don't believe for a moment that the Athletic management was ready to call off the game. That club was founded on too firm a rock to have its bottom knocked out from under by the upstart that had tackled it. Instead of sitting down and crying over the milk that had been spilled, the club folks started right in to mend their fences so that they mlghi st?.nd a chance of regaining what they had lost, even if nothing better came of it. My salary was advanced to $1,500, and once agafn I was shifted—this time to right field. I did not say so at the time, but I knew then as well as I do now that the change was another piece of shortsightedness.

Now, don't jump to the conclusion that I did nothing during those winters In Philadelphia but strenuous gymnasium stunts tt fit me for the road. Even in those days the Quaker City enjoyed the reputation of being a model village, but I found it somewhat lively in spots, certainly more so than Marshalltown. When I left the Iowa town I was at the know-it-all age, when the world seemed populated with idiots—all except myself. I regarded the old gentleman as too hidebound in his ignorance to be worthy of any attention whatever. When I arrived In Philadelphia some of that foolishness had been knocked out of me, but I was still in the rough and needed mighty vigorous trimming.

My robust constitution and outdoor life had done a lot to encourage the animal in my make-up, and I was as full of nonsense as an unbroken thoroughbred colt and about as likely to kick over the traces when anybody attempted to tighten the rein on me. There were plenty ready to give me good advice, but I took mighty good care to steer clear of it. In a nutshell, baseball was my preference, but I was ready for a^iy other old game. With this view of the problem of life, some of my experiences at that period were not of a very exalted nature, hardly creditable, in fact, to a young man who aspired to become a great ball player, but I have the consolation of knowing that they were due more to freshness and ignorance than to actual viciousness.

I had a mighty good opinion of my ability to hold my own In all contests that demanded strength and endurance, and it was a good thing that I sometimes ran up against a snag. One Instance In which my pride took a tremendous tumble was In 1872, the first year I played with the Athletios. It was a throwing match pulled off at the Union grounds In Brooklyn between members of the Mutuals, Bostons and Athletics for a purse of several hundred dollars. The entries were Hatfield and Boyd of the Mutuals, George Wright and Leonard of the Bostons, and Flslar and myself of the Athletics. Before the contest began I was so confident of my ability to break all previous records that I made no Mor»t of my expectation, but when I

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brought up the tail end of the pro cession, with a throw that didn't entitle me to get a penny of the money, I felt crushed. But it didn't take iongr for my self-confidence to return.

When I went to Philadelphia, and for some time afterward, I held the opinion that I was a mighty good man either with the gloves or without. I had never Btood up to a man who used science, but in my bouts with th» old gentleman and my other athletlo friends at Marshalltown my superior strength and stature had always given me the advantage, and I knew nothing that could resist me except perhaps a professional fighter. Some of the boys, anxious to take a hand 1b my education, put up a Job on me. I was Introduced to a certain Prof. Billy McLean, with the explanation that h« was a teacher of boxing and would llk? to have me for a pupil. He looked. BO insignificant that I made light of the proposition, and when it was suggested by one of the boys that should put on the mitts and have a friendly set-to with the professor I was disposed to ridicule the Idea, believing I could give him his quletua without special effort on my part

I don't mind telling you that I found out mighty soon that I had made ao

I A A E '^ANOTHER. 816

mistake:

other great big mistake. Why, that little drled-up specimen of humanity circled around me like a cooper around a barrel. He seemed to b« able to hit me whenever and about wherever he wanted to, and I found I couldn't get at him at all in spite ot my long reach. The upshot of th« business was that I was so taken witl* his cleverness that I offered to pay him handsomely if he would teach m« the trick. McLean consented, and before that winter was over I got to b« so scientific with my hitting that I would have tackled the champion the world if he had given me the opportuni#

I'm not proud of it a little bit, but that was the time when 1 tried to be a "h—11 of a feller" for all I was worth. That I didn't succeed was due partly to my natural preference for deoencyt but more especially to the fact that just about that time I mot the young woman who at first sight inspired ma to sit down and think seriously of the possibility of winning her for my ltf« partner. (To be Continued.)

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