Opening Day Then and Now

It was a lot of fun reading the account of 1911's opening day at Shibe Park from the following day's New York Times. Obviously, baseball was a very different game then, but the experience of opening day sounded both familiar and a little strange at times.

The Weather
Well, even with global warming, you didn't expect early April weather to change that much in 100 years, did you? In 1911, "it was a cold, bleak, unseasonal day for the National sport." I've been lucky enough to attend more than my share of home openers in Philadelphia, and for about 93% of them, the weather has been some combination of cold, bleak, and unseasonal, despite the perfect image of bright sunshine and green grass that all baseball fans hold in their head for opening day.

Patriotism
Baseball teams and fans loved America then, and they love it now. Every Phillies opener in recent memory has featured a giant American flag that covers most of the outfield during the national anthem, along with some sort of military representation (like a color guard or flyover). It's nice, but I think I prefer the previous century's version:

Promptly at 2:30 Kendle's First Regiment Band formed four abreast at the plate and started for the flag pole. Both teams, twenty-one in each squad, assembled in company front at the plate and followed the playing band across the field. The big crowd stood on its feet and cheered frantically as the procession moved to extreme centre field. The flag-raising was of short duration*.

There was not a hitch in the arrangements. When the two teams arrived at the flag pole, Capts. Davis and Chase stepped from the ranks and seized the long halyards. Firmly and steadily they drew the bunting to the top of the tall shaft, when by a quick and dexterous jerk, Chase unloosened the Stars and Stripes to the stiff southeast breeze, and while the band played the "Star-Spangled Banner" hundreds of diminutive flags fell from the mother flag. The crowd jumped to its feet and uncovered and sang to the accompaniment of the band. Then the band and teams returned to the shadow of the grand stand. Again, the players received the plaudits of the assembled thousands.

Presentation of Awards
Second baseman Eddie Collins, "champion base runner of the American League," was presented with an automobile. They still give out cars as awards to players today, but they're generally some GM car (MLB sponsors) given at a world series or all-star game to an MVP. After a brief speech from Collins, "the machine was sent on a trial spin around the field."

First Pitch
In 1911, "Director of Public Safety Clay," who had previously presented Collins with his car, threw out the ceremonial first pitch from the owner's box in the upper pavilion. He threw it to the umpire, who delivered it to the starting pitcher for game use (in Washington that same day, President Taft threw out the first pitch; he was the first president to do so). These days, of course, first pitches are thrown from the field by either a team legend, celebrity, or local honoree. They keep the ball, which is never used in the game.

Attendance
18,000 fans "witnessed the game" on opening day in 1911 (Shibe Park at the time held about 20,000). Over 45,000 fans filled Citizens Bank Park for this year's Phillies opener. The article doesn't specify, but no doubt the 1911 fans were more nattily dressed, as more formal clothes at the game were very much in vogue, and major league baseball had not yet invented merchandising.

Philadelphia Baseball Fans
They're the greatest in the world now, and it sounds like they were a stand-up bunch a century ago. Despite the miserable weather, "the attendance was a personal tribute to the holders of the world's title and a testimonial to the affection with which the great pastime is held by the average American."


* I'm glad the writer included this detail, because I was wondering if it took a long time to raise the flag. I don't want to seem too sarcastic, though, because I really do love this vintage sports writing.

Opening Day

April 12, 1911
Yankees 2, Athletics 1

100 years ago today the Philadelphia Athletics opened their season at Shibe Park against the visiting Yankees*. The Athletics were coming off a World Series win against the Cubs and looking to become the second team to repeat as champs in the short history of World Series play.

New York....... 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 1 0 - 2 7 3
Philadelphia... 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 - 1 3 3

Here's the rest of the box score as clipped from the New York Times of the following day:




























The Yankees would win the day with Hippo Vaughn out-pitching future Hall-of-Famer Chief Bender to a 2-1 final. Bender was at the peak of his powers after having won 23 games the previous year and leading the AL in win percentage (he also threw a no-hitter and posted an ERA+ of 150 that year - the highest of his career). Vaughn, a 6'4'' 215-pounder (hence the hippopotamine nickname), was coming off of a terrific rookie year. He'd go on to pitch a few mediocre seasons for New York before finding success with the Cubs**

Indulge me as I quote at length from the NYT's account of the game from the next morning's paper:

The New York Americans, heralded as the most dangerous team to prevent the present world's champions from repeating their brilliant conquest of last year, were victors over the Athletics in the first championship battle of the year at Shibe Park to-day by a score of 2 to 1. Eighteen thousand persons witnessed the game. It was a cold, bleak, unseasonal day for the National sport, and the attendance was a personal tribute to the holders of the world's title and a testimonial to the affection with which the great pastime is held by the average American.

There was nothing to indicate that the Athletics were world's champions for 1911***. Not a sign or a signal indicated that they represented the best in the baseball world, had won its blue-ribboned title, yet they were playing their first contest under their official title of winners of the world's pennant. Another day, later in the season, fitting ceremonies will celebrate their historical conquest of the snapping and snarling Cubs of Chicago.

Lovers of vintage sports journalism are highly encouraged to peruse the entire account of the game.

Despite their lackluster offense, A's fans could take solace in the excellent pitching of Chief Bender, as, according to the Times, "the Indian's performance would have yielded victory nine times out of ten, but he was unfortunate in opposing a youngster whose work was little less than remarkable." And no, they weren't confusing him with a pitcher from Cleveland (after all, they didn't adopt that name until four years later; they were still the Naps), that's just how a newspaper in 1911 would casually reference Bender's Ojibwa ancestry.****

While this pitchers' duel didn't end in the Athletics' favor, brighter things were ahead of them as they geared up to defend their title later that fall.

But all that was still a long ways away. There were still 150 games to play, the A's were 0-1, and they'd dig themselves into an even deeper hole by the end of the season's first week. For now it was just springtime in Philadelphia, and the season was anyone's for the taking.



* The Yankees were still officially the New York Highlanders at the time. They were more commonly known by fans and the press either as the New York Americans (to distinguish them from the Giants of the Senior Circuit) or the Yankees. The team officially adopted the Yankees moniker in 1913.

**Vaughn's best year came in 1918 when he led the NL in wins, ERA, shutouts, innings pitched, WHIP, hits/9, and strikeouts/9. Too bad the Cy Young Award didn't exist then. On a game against the visiting Reds the prior year, he threw nine innings of no-hit ball. The problem was, so did the opposing pitcher, Fred Toney. Vaughn gave up a run in the top of the tenth to lose the "double no-hitter" to Toney, who continued his hitless streak to close out the bottom of the tenth. Vaughn ended his career 178-137 with a 2.49 ERA.

*** Foreshadowing!

**** Charles Albert "Chief" Bender was one of the more fascinating figures of early 20th century baseball and a major key to this team's success; as such we'll be talking about him a lot over the next few months. After his playing career ended, he remained a part of the Athletics organization in various capacities until a few years before his death. He's buried just a few blocks from the house I grew up in.