The Glory of Their Times: The Story of the Early Days of Baseball Told by the Men Who Played It (Harper Perennial Modern Classics)
Baseball was different in earlier days—tougher, rawer, more intimate—when giants like Babe Ruth and Ty Cobb ran the bases. In the monumental classic The Glory of Their Times, the golden era of our national pastime comes alive through the vibrant words of those who played and lived the game.
your little brother out there in left field, and he’s going to open the season for us.” “Well, you won’t regret it,” I said. “Lloyd will do the job in first-rate style.” And he did, too, as you know. We won the pennant that year, with Lloyd hitting .355. I hit .380 myself, and between the two of us we got 460 base hits that season: 223 hits for Lloyd and 237 for me. It’s an interesting thing that of those 460 hits only 11 were home runs. They were mostly line drives: singles, doubles, and a lot
pitched one full inning, without being under contract to the Giants, and he didn’t have enough stuff to hit. They didn’t score on him. One of those nothing-ball pitchers, you know. Well, it was Charlie Faust’s turn to come to bat when three outs were made, but the Cincinnati team stayed in the field for the fourth out to let Charlie come to bat. And the same thing happened then that happened the very first time that Charlie ever came on the field in St. Louis in his Sunday clothes: they slid him
Charlie. In the second game, though, Eddie Plank beat Rube Marquard when Frank Baker hit a home run to win the game. That’s the Series that gave Baker his name, “Home Run” Baker. He hit one off Rube in the second game and another off Matty the next day. And all the while there was a big rumpus because the newspapers were claiming that Snodgrass was trying to spike Baker to get him out of there. Which wasn’t so. Anyway, they beat us, four games to two. They were a great team, there’s no doubt
“Yeah,” he said, “proud of nothing.” But I went to the Cleveland club’s office anyway, and Mr. Kilfoyl and Mr. Somers were both there. “I received your card,” I said. “You know, you got me in a little jam. My dad doesn’t want me to be a ballplayer.” “Don’t you worry,” Mr. Kilfoyl said, “after you sign with us and get into the Big Leagues he’ll think differently about it.” “Well,” I said, “I’m not signing with you or anybody else until I hear what you’re offering. I’ve been taken advantage of
Moran looked at Hod Eller, who was going to pitch for us that day. “Hod,” he said, “I’ve been hearing rumors about sellouts. Not about you, not about anybody in particular, just rumors. I want to ask you a straight question and I want a straight answer.” “Shoot,” says Hod. “Has anybody offered you anything to throw this game?” “Yep,” Hod said. Lord, you could have heard a pin drop. “After breakfast this morning a guy got on the elevator with me, and got off at the same floor I did. He showed