Baseball History — As Seen From The Shadows of Cooperstown: Part V

In the fifth of a 10-part series, the author takes an in-depth look at Major League Baseball history from 1941 to 1950.

Introduction

The nineteen-forties is a slice of history that I was there for, but do not remember much. I was born in 1946, and while I do have some pre-K memories, none of them involve baseball. So the Forties is the last decade that I only know second-hand.

It was a critical decade in world history, at least the first half of it, with WW II being fought in so many places, and the atomic bomb being dropped (I was born nine months after Hiroshima, a fact that sticks in my mind like sharing May 6 as a birthday with Willie Mays). The first book I read to fill me in on baseball during the wars years was Spartan Seasons by Richard Goldstein (1980). That was many years ago, but I haven’t found a better book on the topic.

The Forties was also a turning point in baseball history. After the war, a war fought against tyranny and fascism and a genuine axis of evil, flaws in our own democracy seemed to be less acceptable. I’m not sure why America did not learn the same lesson after World War I, but we didn’t. Anyway, segregation came under increasing attack, and when Jackie Robinson took the field in the uniform of the Brooklyn Dodgers, a page was turned. It took ‘way too long, but that does not diminish the achievement, just keeps it in perspective. It was a hell of a deal.

The Forties was also another decade of dominance by the New York Yankees. Other teams took their turns at the top, too, even the St Louis Browns; but Joe DiMaggio’s Yankees were the team to beat. Maybe the scrap of film that best sums up the decade is from the 1947 Series, when a long clout by DiMaggio was hauled down by a tiny Italian Brooklyn outfielder, Al Gionfriddo, saving Game Six. DiMaggio kicked up some dust at second base in disgust, but the next day, the Yankees won the Series. But we remember Gionfriddo, for postponing what by then seemed inevitable. Al would never play in the majors again. DiMaggio would show up in three more Octobers on his way to Cooperstown. But fans my age will always remember Gionfriddo’s catch, and hear Red Barber’s call, Oh, Doctor!

Back-back-back-back … would DiMaggio’s long fly be the killer blow this year? Would the Dodgers and Jackie be denied? Gionfriddo snatched the victory, saved the day — not the Series, as it turned out — and that’s what we want to remember best about Game Six, about 1947, and about the whole Damn Yankee decade.

1941

The 1941 Series ended two months and a day before the bombing of Pearl Harbor plunged America into a second World War. The last peacetime season in a while was a notable one. Ted Williams, just 23 years old and in his third ML season, batted .406. No one has done it since. Several players have come close, and I believe someone will someday hit over .400 again.

Joltin’ Joe DiMaggio hit safely in 56 straight games — no one had done that before or since. Some say he got some calls to keep the streak going, but give the guy credit, he was hot. I’ve given DiMaggio a lot of space here in Notes, starting with #126 (in the archive), to launch the 1996 season, in a couple issues not in the archive, and finally in #s 225 and 254, the last issue a review of that (in)famous recent biography.

Come October, it was DiMaggio’s Yankees over Boston by 17, and Durocher’s Brooklyn on top in the NL by 2.5 over St Louis. Pete Reiser hit a league-leading .343, 63 points below Ted. The Yanks took the Series in five, which sounds like a rout, but the scores were 3-2, 2-3, 2-1, 7-4, and 3-1. Five different Yankee starters, and only two of the names are familiar to me (Red Ruffing and Spud Chandler, and then there was Fireman Johnny Murphy, too). The Dodgers slumped to .182 as a team.

1942

A Polish kid from Donora, PA, had a cup of coffee with the St Louis Cards in 1941, and in 1942, Stan Musial became The Man, hitting .315 as the Cardinals took another World Championship. If you scan the rosters of ‘42, you conclude that the War had not yet taken its toll. We recall Ted Williams as a hero for serving in WW II and Korea, but he played a full summer in ‘42, slumping off to .356. He would not play again until 1946.

The Cards barely edged the Dodgers (by 2). The Yankees (ho, hum) took the AL flag by 9 over Boston. These teams were the cream of the decade, and while they did not win all the pennants, they were always among the teams to beat to get to October.

The Yankees took the Series opener, in St Louis, and it looked like business as usual. But then the Cards got hot, and won the next four games by 4-3, 2-0 (!), 9-6, and 4-2, sweeping the three games at The Stadium. The Yanks had not lost a Series since 1926 (eight straight wins). Musial hit just .222 in the Series, but another Polish Cardinal, Whitey Kurowski, smacked a ninth-inning HR in the final game to defeat the pinstripers. No one knew at the time that it was a precursor of Mazeroski in ‘60.

1943

Nothing motivates like revenge, and the NY Yankees got theirs in ‘43, meeting the Cardinals again in the Series and taking four of five, by 4-2, 3-4, 6-2, 2-1 and 2-0. And they did it without DiMaggio, who, like Ted Williams, gave up three prime years to military service. It must have been frustrating, as the Cards actually outhit the Yanks, but left too many on.

Billy Southworth was at the helm of these Cardinal winners. They took the ‘43 NL flag by 18 over Cincinnati, led by Musial’s .357 (Stan donated only one season to the war, ‘45). Joe McCarthy was the Yankee manager, of course, and his troops finished 13.5 ahead of Washington. The standing were somewhat skewered in this season and the next two, as many players enlisted or were drafted, to be replaced by older past-peak veterans like Paul Waner, or rookies, the most famous of which is probably Pete Gray, who “BL, TL” in the encyclopedias does not note that he only had one arm with which to bat and throw. Pete played half a season (1945) for the Cardinals and hit a respectable .218, and I suspect spent the rest of his life saying that with two good arms, he’d have doubled that.

COMMENT:
Pete Gray was a symbol, I think, for MLB during the war years. You did your best with what you had. In 1918, the first world war shut down baseball; Ban Johnson said he wanted to do it before the government forced it, but the magnates fought hard to keep it going as long as they could, squeezing in one last turnstile-turning Labor Day of doubleheaders before closing the parks. A special OK was received for the World Series to be played, September 5-11.
But by the second world war, a lot more presidents had tossed out Opening Day first balls. Franklin Roosevelt wrote a famous letter to Commissioner Landis, who had sent the president a note 38 days after Pearl Harbor, asking what FDR had in mind for baseball. The response was the famous “green light” for baseball to carry on; Americans “ought to have the chance for recreation and for taking their minds off their work even more than before.” Able-bodied players would be expected to join the military effort, and the quality of play would not be as high, but baseball, The Show, must go on.

1944

No surprise that the Cardinals, with Musial hitting .347, finished on top in the NL, 14.5 over Pittsburgh, of all teams. The Pirates, skippered by Frankie Frisch, moved up from 4th in ‘43, but would rise no higher for a long time. But the real surprise was over in the AL, where the St Louis Browns won their first and only pennant, by one game over Detroit. The Brownies won two games in October, too, but their city rivals prevailed, by 1-2, 3-2, 2-6, 5-1, 2-0, and 3-1, a six-game Series win. Two duels between the Cards’ Mort Cooper and the Browns’ Denny Galehouse were the highlight (Games 1 and 5).

1945

There must have been a feeling of “anybody can win these days” in both leagues, as the war lingered on. And in 1945, there were two different teams at the top of the standings: the Detroit Tigers (88 wins) edged the Senators (87) in the AL, while the Cubs finished three ahead of St Louis.

Phil Cavaretta career-year .355 led the Cubs and the league. The Tigers did it with pitching (Hal Newhouser and Dizzy Trout), and got a boost at the end when slugger Hank Greenberg, one of the first to be inducted (he actually had been discharged two days before Pearl Harbor, and re-enlisted), came back with a bang to lead Detroit to the Series. Hank smote a couple more HRs in October, as the Tigers edged the Cubs in seven games. It was a wild Series: the Cubs winning big in Game One, 9-0, Detroit coming back 4-1 the next day; the Cubs jumping ahead with a 3-0 shutout by Claude Passeau, then seeing it offset 4-1 by Trout; Newhouser won the critical Game Five, 8-4, but then the Cubs answered with a see-saw 8-7, 12-inning win at Wrigley. The stage was set for that streak to be snapped, but the Tigers scored five in the first and coasted 9-3 behind Newhouser.

COMMENT:
By the next World Series, the world would be at peace, more or less. Baseball would soon be back to normal — or would it? Oh, Doctor! Judge Landis had passed away in 1944, and the new Commish, Happy Chandler, sensed that it was time: he would not object to Branch Rickey, Brooklyn’s GM, signing Jackie Robinson. 1947 knelt on deck as a year that was bound to be remembered forever.

1946

Technically, this was my first season as a fan. I joined the Carney family in May. Genetics and environment determined that I would be a lifelong Pirate fan. I like to think that at least one of my first cheers, from the cradle, was in response to one of Ralph Kiner’s 23 home runs. Kiner arrived in Pittsburgh in 1946, too, and the rookie OF led the league in HRs, as the team fell to 7th place. (That’s where they finished in 1957, too, the first season of my conscious rooting.)

The Cardinals were on top again, finishing two games ahead of Brooklyn. Stan Musial hi .365, Enos Slaughter drove in 130 and Howie Pollet won 21. Over in the AL, the Yankees had not regrouped yet, they would finish third, well behind Boston, who led by a comfy 12 over Detroit. Led by Joe Cronin, the Red Sox had their own DiMaggio, Dom hitting .316 to Joe’s .290 (1946 was the last of Vince’s ten years in the bigs, where he hit .249 for five NL clubs, mostly Pittsburgh). Ted Williams hit .342 and Boo Ferris won 25.

The ‘46 Series was another dandy, the Cards taking it in seven games. I think the seventh game, the one that decides it, tends to eclipse some of the earlier games in any Series, and this is surely the case with ‘46. Rudy York won the first game with a dramatic 10th-inning HR, 3-2; Harry Brecheen tossed a 4-hit shutout the next day for the Cards. Game Three featured a Ferris shut out, broken open by a 3-run shot by York, 4-0. In Game Four, the Cards not only tied the series, they scored 12 runs on 20 hits (that tied a record). But this is baseball, and you can’t store up hits and runs for tomorrow. Boston came back to win Game Five, 6-3, at Fenway — they were one win away.

Of course, that win never came. The Cards won Game Six behind Brecheen again, 4-1. Then came the famous Game Seven. Boo Ferris and Murray Dickson faced off, but Boo left in the fifth, as the Cards jumped ahead, 3-1. The Red Sox tied it in their 7th, KO’ing Dickson, and in came Brecheen in relief. I think fans love it when a starter enters in a spot like this, with all winter ahead to recover from the last few innings he squeezes out of his tired arm. Harry (the Cat) Brecheen stopped the Sox, and the 3-3 tie was broken in the Cardinal 8th when Enos Slaughter scored from first on a hit by Harry (the Hat) Walker. Sox SS Johnny Pesky was the cutoff man, and those looking for a scapegoat blamed him for hesitating on his throw to the plate. Enos Slaughter’s “mad dash” home scored the winning run, and the Pesky’s play remains controversial to this day. Kinda like the Called Shot in ‘32. You want to see hesitation, you see it.

1947

Baseball itself had hesitated for over sixty years. In 1884, another Walker, Moses Fleetwood, was (it turned out) the last black to play in the majors; he caught and hit .263 for Toledo, in the American Association. Jackie Robinson arrived in 1947, like an exciting Game Seven, that eclipsed over six decades of shameful segregation.

For the first time, our baseball memories included a black man. I don’t think I have ever attended a major league game where at least one black player has not appeared on the field. I have to believe that when Jackie Robinson joined the Dodgers, with the eyes of American focused on him — as well as on how he was received, by both ballplayers and National League fans — the hope was for precisely that kind of future — for the day when race would simply not be an issue, not in baseball, not in America. I think the best book I can recommend here is Jules Tygiel’s The Great Experiment (1983).

COMMENT:
Robinson’s breaking “the color line” was also the beginning of the end of the Negro Leagues. They are another glaring omission in my thumbnail history here. I’ll likely return to them later. While the Negro Leagues were not “major leagues,” they obviously had some of the most talented players, ever, and the “real” major leaguers who played against black players, in post-season exhibitions, knew it. The Negro National League was founded in 1920. The Negro American League started in 1937 and lasted until 1960.

With Jackie at first base and batting .297, Brooklyn won the NL pennant by five over St Louis. Ralph Kiner, aided by mentor Hank Greenberg, and more by the shortened LF at Forbes Field dubbed Greenberg Gardens, hit 51 HRs as the Bucs finished last. There is no way to tell Robinson’s story in a few words, and no numbers sum up his season — surely not “.297.” The 151 games played is probably the most significant stat; then perhaps his league-leading 29 stolen bases. And untold stolen hearts.

Over in the AL, the Yankees were back, winning handily by 12 over Detroit and 14 over Boston. This set up a rematch of the Subway Series of 1941. And for a third straight October, America was treated to a hum-dinger seven-game series.

The Series started off the way so many Yankee sweeps began, with two decisive wins at the Stadium, 5-3 and 10-3. But over at Ebbets, the Dodgers clawed back, with 9-8 and 3-2 wins. In the crucial fifth game, Joe DiMaggio homered in the 5th inning and it stood up, 2-1. Back home, the Yankees threatened to wrap it up, but Gionfriddo’s Catch (see above) choked off a rally and the 8-6 Dodger win sent the series to Game Seven.

Brooklyn broke on top, 2-0, but the Yankees went ahead with two runs in the 4th, added a couple more, and won 5-2. Joe Page held the Dodgers to one hit over the last five innings. It was a historic October, but not because of any great catches or hits or pitching. The great experiment had been a terrific success.

1948

Cleveland had finished a distant fourth in ‘47, but led by playing-manager SS Lou Boudreau (.355), and a trio of pitchers (Bob Lemon and Gene Bearden won 20, Bob Feller 19), the Indians finished a game ahead of Boston, 2.5 ahead of the Yanks. For the first time since 1920, they were in the Series.

Over in the NL, 27-year old Warren Spahn and 31-year old Johnny Sain (24 wins) anchored a Boston Braves staff that took the team to its first Series since 1914. Spahn had a cup of coffee before the war, then lost three seasons to the war. Wounded in action along the Rhine, he was awarded a Purple Heart. Spahn won 21 in 1947, and 15 in ‘48, but would pitch 17 more ML seasons and win 363 games, more than any other southpaw, and 5th all-time. I saw Spahnie pitch in his long prime, and he was the best I saw.

The Braves finished 6.5 ahead of the Cardinals, with Brooklyn another game back. Kiner hit 40 and the Pirates rose to 4th place. Musial hit .376. This season produced, of all things, a jingle: “Spahn and Sain and pray for rain” — this probably did not originate among the rest of the Braves’ staff, but it caught on. But that duo won just 39 of Boston’s 91 games. So much for jingles.

The 1948 Series was win-win, with these two teams facing off. If you like pitching duels — and I do — Game One was a thriller, with Sain tossing a 4-hit shutout to defeat Feller, 1-0. Feller yielded just two hits, losing after the runner he had narrowly missed picking off second, scored on an 8th-inning hit. Lemon bested Spahn, 4-1, in Game Two, then Gene Bearden was the Cleveland hero with a 2-0 shutout. Game Four was the decider, with Steve Gromek (born in 1920) the 2-1 winner over the Boston ace Sain. Larry Doby’s HR provided the winning margin — Doby had been the AL’s Jackie, of course. The Braves took Game Five, 11-5, but that was their last hurrah. Lemon held Boston, 4-3, but needed Bearden to get the last four outs. The next time that the Braves and Spahn would get to October, they would be in uniforms that read “Milwaukee.”

COMMENT:

Sometimes we forget, I think, how special each season is, and how each one provides, for some cities — that is, for untold thousands or millions of people — peak experiences, not to be matched before or after in their lifetimes. And I do not mean only for those fans of the teams that finish on top in October, or who win pennants, or even for those who are in pennant races, though the joys for them are unique and lasting. But baseball is constructed so that even the teams that finish last in the standings have highlights, and any ordinary game at any time of the season can serve up something fantastic — a no-hitter, a great catch, a rookie hitting for the cycle, a veteran slugging a last long ball.

I allude to this a bit here when I note such facts as Ralph Kiner’s home runs for the Pittsburgh Pirates. Kiner led the league in HRs, despite Forbes Field (after the Gardens), his first seven seasons in MLB. In 1949, he slugged 54, the Pirates won 71 and finished 6th. He boosted attendance over the million mark, not all by himself, but after his last at bats, the park emptied. But every team had its favorites. I wish I could cover them all.

1949

I have put in writing before my belief that a good book can be written about every season. 1949 is taken — David Halberstam did it, in 1989. I reviewed Summer of ‘49 in Notes #90 and I’ll reprint that below.

And that will enable me to be briefer here. The Brooklyn Dodgers took the NL pennant by one thin game over St Louis’ Cardinals. I like to point out that that means that every game for both teams that season was, in fact, crucial. You never know. Jackie had moved from his rookie position, 1B, to 2B in ‘48, and batted .342 in ‘49, topping Musial’s .338. The Dodgers clinched on the summer’s last day with an extra-inning win over the Phils.

In the AL, the race also went down to the wire, with the Yankees finishing a nose ahead of the Red Sox, in a fairy-tale finish. The two teams met on the final day of the season, tied, with the pennant on the line. The game is detailed in Burt Sugar’s Baseball’s 50 Greatest Games, another book I recommend. The Yanks took a 5-0 lead into the ninth, then held on to win 5-3; at the end, the tying run was at bat and the game ended on a pop foul fly — same as the 1975 Series, right, Sox fans?

The World Series must have felt anti-climactic. The Yanks won, 4-1. Allie Reynolds tossed a two-hit shutout, 1-0, in Game One and Preacher Roe answered with a 1-0 shutout the next day. Game Three was the turning point, Fireman Joe Page snuffing out the Dodger rally in the ninth; he saved the finale, too.

1950

The Philadelphia Phillies had finished third in ‘49, and had not won a pennant since 1915, but in 1950, they had one of those years, a winner with a winning nickname, “the Whiz Kids.” This team had lost its whiz — all except Robin Roberts and Richie Ashburn — by the time I started going to Forbes Field, in 1957. But they have grown more interesting to me over the past several decades, living in Utica, NY, where the kids got their Whiz, being groomed with the Blue Sox in the Eastern League in the 40s. It was in Utica that manager Eddie Sawyer converted Ashburn from a catcher to an outfielder. As near as I can tell, this gang provided the peak baseball experience for Utica in the past century or so.

The Kids snatched the pennant from Brooklyn, beating them in extra innings on the final day of the season, on Dick Sisler’s HR, Robin Roberts winning a gutsy duel with Don Newcombe. This game is in Sugar’s Greatest 50, too. The Yankees didn’t exactly roll home, they won by 3 over Detroit, 4 over Boston. But Casey Stengel had a dynasty going, and this was just the second of five straight pennants for the Old Perfessor.

The image that lingers from the World Series — a Yankee sweep — is that of Jim Konstanty, who had won 16 during the 1950 season, while relieving in 74 games and starting none, taking the mound to begin Game One in Philly. And then tossing eight innings, only to lose, 1-0, Vic Raschi the shutout. 2-1, 3-2, and 5-2 wins followed the next three days. DiMaggio’s 10th-inning HR was the margin in Game Two, and the Yanks had to come back with runs in the 8th & 9th in Game Three to win that one. So one more time — close, but the Yankees ended the decade on top.

COMMENT:
I began this series after learning that the community college course I was going to teach this spring was rained out (OK, no one signed up). My idea all along was to end each decade with the first year of the next decade, so I could end the course with 1960 — my personal peak season (so far). That is, with the Pirates on top (at last!) and the Yankees not. With this installment, I am now halfway thru the 20th century. Starting next time, I will be able to add my own memories. Having memories of people from over 50 years ago is a bit startling, but I’m getting used to it.

The above is an excerpt from Issue #441 of Gene’s Notes From the Shadows of Cooperstown. To read the rest of the issue (or past issues), click here.