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Kindred spirits: Phil Garner and Mike Matheny

April 30, 2026 by retrosimba

The first manager Mike Matheny played for in the big leagues was nicknamed Scrap Iron. Matheny impressed him by performing like a Man of a Steel.

Matheny, a catcher, reached the majors with the Brewers in 1994 and spent five seasons with them. Phil Garner was manager the entire time.

An infielder for 16 years in the majors, Garner was called Scrap Iron because of his hard-nosed style of play. As a manager, he looked for players who were scrappers, too.

On May 26, 1998, Matheny was batting when Pirates reliever Rich Loiselle lost control of a fastball. Matheny lost sight of the pitch and it struck him square on the left cheek. “It was kind of a numb feeling for a couple of seconds where I didn’t know what had happened,” Matheny recalled to Susan Shemanske of the Racine Journal Times.

Matheny didn’t stagger or fall. He stood stunned for a moment, then “opened his mouth and blood gushed out,” the Associated Press reported.

On-deck batter Jose Valentin rushed over, followed by Garner and team trainers. “He was spitting up blood like it was water,” Valentin said to the Associated Press.

Matheny walked to the dugout unassisted, spitting blood along the way, while a pinch-runner came in for him.

“I got his blood on my batting gloves,” Valentin told Arnie Stapleton of the Associated Press, “and then when I got up to the plate I looked down and saw a pool of blood. There was blood all over the plate. I was trying to kick dirt over it to get that image out of my mind.”

After being checked by medical personnel in the clubhouse and learning his jaw and teeth were intact, Matheny showered before heading to the hospital for stitches to close the wound inside his cheek. Before he left the clubhouse, Matheny stopped by Garner’s office and said, “I can play tomorrow, Skip.”

Scrap Iron smiled. “He’s a throwback,” Garner told the Associated Press. “A man’s man. I hope my daughter marries a guy like him. He’s one tough son of a gun.” Boxscore

The next night, after Matheny took batting practice, he had to get the sutures tightened. Then he tried on the catcher’s mask. It fit over his swollen face. “I might need to adjust the padding, that’s all,” he told the Associated Press.

Garner put Matheny in the lineup and he caught all 10 innings of a 3-2 Brewers victory against the Pirates. Boxscore

In explaining why he didn’t sit out, Matheny said to the Associated Press, “I’m getting paid by the Milwaukee Brewers to play baseball. If I have my health, I have a requirement to do so. I feel an obligation to go out there and play.”

That’s what Garner had come to expect from him. “Matheny is the type of player who will catch a 15-inning game one night and then the next day be back out there taking balls in the dirt before a day game,” Garner said to Dennis Semrau of The Capital Times.

Six years later, in 2004, Garner and Matheny were on opposing teams. Garner was managing the Astros, Matheny was catching for the Cardinals and their clubs were in the playoff series that would determine the National League champion.

Baseball fever

Phil Garner was from the hills of east Tennessee near Knoxville. “My grandmother dipped snuff,” he recalled to Tom Haudricourt of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. “That’s the way it was.”

Garner’s grandfather and father were Baptist ministers. “My grandfather was the old fire and brimstone type preacher,” Garner said in a Knoxville News-Sentinel article. “He’d stand up there and tell his congregation, ‘I want to throw all the beer in the river. I want to throw all the wine in the river … Now, let us turn to page 229 and sing together, ‘Shall We Gather at the River.’ ”

Baseball had the blessing of the Garner family and Phil developed a passion for the sport. “I dreamed about baseball when other guys my age were dreaming about the girl next door,” Garner said to Marvin West of the News-Sentinel. “I can remember winter evenings after school when I’d get out in the mud or snow and pretend I was fielding ground balls. I’d pivot and throw the ball against a wall, always trying to be quicker.”

Garner eventually got a partial baseball scholarship to the University of Tennessee, twice earned all-Southeastern Conference honors and signed with the Oakland Athletics. After making his way through the farm system, Garner was called up to the defending World Series champion A’s in September 1973.

“I remember the day I walked into the clubhouse,” he told the News-Sentinel. “Reggie Jackson said, ‘Hey, rookie, what’s happening?’ I didn’t know. Sal Bando called me ‘Shorty’ … but they never laughed at me. They knew I was trying. I learned how to win from those guys but, all along, I had their respect.”

Garner played for managers Dick Williams, Alvin Dark and Chuck Tanner in Oakland. His nickname then was Yosemite Sam because of a droopy moustache like the Looney Tunes cartoon character.

It was after his March 1977 trade to the Pirates (where he was reunited with Tanner) that Garner got nicknamed Scrap Iron. In an April 27, 1977, game at Pittsburgh, Garner singled, stole second and looked up to see the name “Scrap Iron Garner” on the Three Rivers Stadium scoreboard. “That’s the first time I ever saw it,” Garner told Russ Franke of The Pittsburgh Press. Boxscore

Pirates broadcaster Milo Hamilton picked up on the nickname and started using it to describe the ballplayer Pittsburgh sports reporter Bob Smizik called “a poor man’s Pete Rose.”

“There was a time I went after baseball with the attitude of a linebacker,” Garner said to reporter Marvin West. “… I was too eager, too aggressive. I try to play under control but with the same determination.”

Garner reached a peak in 1979 when he hit .293 with 32 doubles and eight triples. He finished the season with a 14-game hitting streak, then got a hit in every playoff and World Series game. Garner batted .417, with a home run against Tom Seaver, in the National League Championship Series versus the Reds, and .500 in the World Series the Pirates won against the Orioles. “That little man has a special place in my heart,” Chuck Tanner told the News-Sentinel.

Belief system

After finishing his playing career in 1988, Garner was a coach on the staff of Astros manager Art Howe for three years. Then Garner’s former teammate, Milwaukee general manager Sal Bando, hired him to manage the Brewers.

“He manages like he played,” Tony La Russa said to the Palm Beach Post.

In a 1993 game between Garner’s Brewers and La Russa’s A’s, reliever Dennis Eckersely was ejected for questioning pitch calls. La Russa defended his pitcher and was tossed, too. As La Russa kept arguing, Garner came out to complain about the delay. La Russa turned his anger on Garner. “He had no business there,” La Russa told the Associated Press. Both benches emptied and several brawls ensued. Garner had made his point, though. He wasn’t going to let La Russa intimidate him. Boxscore

The next year, a rookie, Mike Matheny, caught Garner’s eye. Some thought Matheny would be a backup catcher. He was good with the glove but didn’t hit well. Garner, though, saw a player with poise, intelligence, toughness. He showed Matheny how to hit through the ball instead of at it, and Matheny got better.

“One of the things I really like about him is that he’s a hard worker and he’s bright,” Garner told the Racine Journal Times. “He works on all parts of his game.”

In September 1995, Matheny said to Harry Atkins of the Associated Press, “Phil Garner had a lot of faith in me when nobody else did. He saw some things in my approach at the plate that I might not have noticed. I worked on it in winter ball. I feel myself improving. I’ve been a defensive hitter my whole life, and it showed there for a while. Now I’m more aggressive. I’m seeing the ball longer and things are starting to look better for my career.”

Pennant winners

Their career paths took Garner and Matheny in different directions. After being with the Brewers (1992-99), Garner managed the Tigers (2000-02). Matheny went to the Blue Jays in 1999 and joined the Cardinals a year later. Playing for Tony La Russa, Matheny was a Gold Glove winner on contenting teams.

In 2004, when the Astros entered the all-star break at 44-44, 10.5 games behind the division-leading Cardinals, manager Jimy Williams was fired and replaced by Garner. As the Houston Chronicle noted, Garner “changed what had become a relaxed culture under Williams. Suddenly it wasn’t cool to be cool after losses … Garner stood up to club icons.”

The Astros were 48-26 with Garner as manager, qualified for the playoffs and reached the National League finals against the Cardinals. “What he did was very impressive,” La Russa told the Chronicle. “It’s hard to do that.”

The league championship series went the full seven games, with the Cardinals prevailing. After the Red Sox swept St. Louis in the World Series, Matheny became a free agent and signed with the Giants. Yadier Molina became Cardinals catcher.

In a National League finals rematch in 2005, the Astros turned the tables, winning four of six against St. Louis. Garner became the first Astros manager to win a pennant and reach the World Series.

“I could see he was a leader that was engaged with the players and really challenged them,” club owner Drayton McLane told the Chronicle. “He was the first manager I have seen really communicate with the team.”

Seven years later, when Matheny was managing the Cardinals, he recalled to Joe Strauss of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch a lesson learned from Garner. It happened in April 1994. Matheny was entering the dugout after catching the first inning of his first big-league start when Garner demanded to know why the catcher called a certain pitch. Caught off guard, Matheny was slow to respond. “Don’t let me ever hear you have to hesitate with that answer again,” Garner growled.

From then on, Matheny was ready to explain every pitch he called in a game. As Joe Strauss noted, “Matheny eventually established a reputation for preparation and determination as a player.”

In 2013, Matheny managed the Cardinals to a pennant. Two years later, they had a 100-win season. He’s the last Cardinals manager to achieve either feat.

Posted in Games, Hitters, Managers | 14 Comments »

Visionary: Tom Sunkel saw way to overcome handicap

April 24, 2026 by retrosimba

Nothing was wrong with the left arm of Cardinals pitcher Tom Sunkel. He threw pitches with blinding speed. The problem was an eye. He was blind in the left one.

Though his vision was impaired, Sunkel spent the 1939 season with the Cardinals, and what he did showed he had plenty of heart, too. Sunkel pitched a two-hit shutout against the Giants. He won four decisions in a row as a starter. Plus, he swung a potent bat, hitting .321 for the season.

The Giants wanted him and arranged a 1941 trade. In his second game for them, Sunkel spun another two-hit shutout, against the Phillies.

Boyhood accident

Tom Sunkel grew up on a farm in Paris _ Illinois, that is _ about 20 miles northwest of Terre Haute, Ind. Incorporated in 1849, Paris, Ill., likely got its name from the word “Paris” carved into a tree in the center of the village.

When Sunkel was 4, a playmate loaded a popgun with a stick, aimed it and fired. Sunkel put up a hand for protection but the stick streaked between his fingers and pierced his left eye, the Minneapolis Star Tribune reported.

A doctor saved the eye but a traumatic cataract developed, cutting Sunkel’s sight to a little better than half normal, according to the Associated Press.

Despite the restricted vision, Sunkel became a standout amateur baseball player. At 21, he was pitching for a local church team when the Cardinals signed him for their farm system in 1934.

On his path through the minors, Sunkel took a step backward in 1936 when he posted a 6-26 record for a Class B Asheville (N.C.) club managed by Billy Southworth. As other pitching prospects advanced, Sunkel stayed at Class B in 1937, with Decatur (Ill.). It turned out well for him, though. His fastball and curve stymied batters from clubs such as the Moline Plow Boys and Terre Haute Tots. Sunkel totaled 227 strikeouts in 192 innings.

No rescue for Redbirds

Cardinals general manager Branch Rickey visited Decatur in August 1937 to scout Sunkel. The Cardinals were contending with the Cubs and Giants for the National League pennant but they needed starting pitching help. Dizzy Dean hurt his toe in the All-Star Game, altered his pitching delivery and damaged his arm. His brother, Paul Dean, underwent shoulder surgery. Jesse Haines was 44 years old.

St. Louis players were hoping Rickey would acquire proven pitching for the pennant push, but instead he called up Sunkel, 25, from Decatur to fill the void.

Sunkel’s arrival “became a big joke with the other players,” Sid Keener of the St. Louis Star-Times noted. “A pitcher from Decatur was Rickey’s idea of trying to win the 1937 pennant.”

(The Cardinals finished fourth, 15 games behind the champion Giants.)

The rookie was timid _ “I sure was a busher,” he admitted to the Star-Times _ and manager Frankie Frisch used him mostly in relief. Though he didn’t allow a run in six of eight relief appearances for the 1937 Cardinals, including a seven-inning stint versus the Pirates, Sunkel didn’t show enough to stick with the club in 1938. Boxscore

“Just when I figured I had made the grade (with St. Louis), the bottom fell out of everything,” Sunkel said to the Star-Times.

Rickey arranged for Sunkel to pitch for the 1938 Atlanta Crackers, which wasn’t a Cardinals farm club, but retained an option to recall him to St. Louis at any time.

Seeing the light

Sunkel was a success on the mound for Atlanta but it was a troubling season. He had a kink in his left arm the first part of the year. After that, he had a bout of neuritis, an inflammation of the nerves. One night, he was pitching a home game when a burglar broke into his apartment, “leaving the Sunkel family practically flat broke,” the Star-Times reported.

Then the vision in his left eye got dimmer and dimmer.

The traumatic cataract from his childhood injury had worsened considerably. On Aug. 3, 1938, Sunkel told Guy Butler of the Atlanta Journal that the condition of his left eye had deteriorated so much that “I can’t see out of it, but it’s been that way for a month, getting a little worse right along.”

Team trainer Dick Niehaus, a former Cardinals left-handed pitcher, said to the Journal, “I was standing right in front of him. I asked him to close his right eye and look at me. He said he couldn’t see me at all.”

With the club’s permission, Sunkel opted to keep playing. “It’s pretty tough that Tom must pitch under this handicap,” Atlanta catcher-manager Paul Richards said to the Journal. “I don’t want you folks to expect too much of him.”

Sunkel, though, adapted. “I have to guess where the plate is when I throw,” he told the Associated Press.

The results were amazing. Sunkel achieved a 21-5 record, winning his last 13 decisions in a row. For his 20th win, he pitched a one-hitter against Memphis. (Pitcher Hugh Casey got the hit on an infield roller in the third inning.) Sunkel posted a 2.33 ERA in 243 innings and also batted .255 (with 26 hits).

In the Southern Association playoffs, Sunkel won twice, helping Atlanta take the championship. Then he shut out Texas League champion Beaumont in the Dixie Series, winning a duel with Schoolboy Rowe.

Job well done

The Cardinals exercised their option and brought Sunkel to spring training in 1939. They had him examined by eye specialists, who agreed his condition couldn’t be corrected by surgery. “Sunkel calmly accepted the verdict that he would have to battle his way upward with only half the sight of other pitchers,” the Associated Press noted.

Sunkel made the team, but Cardinals manager Ray Blades didn’t use him much in the first part of the season. Then, in July, Sunkel was given some starts. He beat the Phillies for his first big-league win, limiting them to two runs in six innings. He also produced two hits and a sacrifice bunt. Boxscore

“He has developed a new pitching and batting stance, cocking the head slightly to one side so as to take in everything with his one good eye that he would normally see with two,” Ray Gillespie wrote in the Star-Times.

Sunkel told the newspaper, “As long as I’ve got one good eye … I’ll win a lot of games for the Cardinals … I’m big and strong enough to pitch and I’m not afraid of opposing batters. So how’s a little trouble in one eye going to stop me?”

Sunkel’s next win brought him national attention. On a humid afternoon at St. Louis, he held the Giants hitless until Tom Hafey (cousin of ex-Cardinals standout Chick Hafey) singled to right with one out in the eighth. The only other Giants hit was a two-out Billy Jurges single in the ninth. Sunkel produced as many hits as he allowed (two) and also had a walk and a RBI. Boxscore

Wins against the Dodgers and Pirates followed. Boxscore and Boxscore

In 20 games, including 11 starts, for the 1939 Cardinals, Sunkel was 4-4 with a 4.22 ERA. He also totaled nine hits in 28 at-bats.

Keep on going

His was a feel-good story, but results were valued more than sentiment in baseball. Sunkel, 27, gave up nine runs in his last 10 innings with the 1939 Cardinals. They determined he needed more time in the minors.

Sunkel spent 1940 with Columbus and 1941 with Syracuse. In September 1941, the Cardinals dealt Sunkel to the Giants for Jumbo Brown (a 295-pound pitcher) and Rae Blaemire.

Two weeks later, in his second start for the Giants, Sunkel held the Phillies hitless until Johnny Rizzo cracked a single with two outs in the eighth. Sunkel finished with a two-hit shutout, striking out 12. He also had a hit and scored a run. Boxscore

Sunkel was 3-6 for the 1942 Giants. A highlight was pitching 10 innings to beat the Dodgers. Boxscore

He spent most of 1943 in the minors. Then Branch Rickey, who had left the Cardinals, acquired Sunkel for the Dodgers. He pitched his last big-league games for them in 1944.

Sunkel continued to pitch in the minors until 1948. In an American Association playoff game for St. Paul in 1946, he pitched a no-hitter at Louisville. In describing the performance, Tommy Fitzgerald of the Louisville Courier-Journal called Sunkel “the Eiffel Tower of Paris, Ill.”

Posted in Games, Pitchers, Prospects | 14 Comments »

Bad business: Why Cardinals gave up on Reggie Smith

April 17, 2026 by retrosimba

Reggie Smith was a proud, obstinate ballplayer. Gussie Busch was a proud, obstinate team owner. The combination made for a combustible mix.

With the Cardinals in 1976, Smith opted to play without a signed contract because Busch wouldn’t agree to defer part of Smith’s salary. If Smith stayed unsigned, he could play out his option and become a free agent after the season.

Busch, an imperious meddler, would not tolerate what he perceived as defiance. “Get rid of him,” Busch barked to general manager Bing Devine, Smith told the Los Angeles Times.

On June 15, 1976, in a trade they would come to regret, the Cardinals sent Smith, their all-star switch-hitting right fielder, to the Dodgers for catcher Joe Ferguson and prospects Bob Detherage and Freddie Tisdale.

They are the egg men

Carl Reginald Smith was one of eight children raised in a family in Los Angeles County near Compton. His father had an egg delivery service and young Reggie helped him on the truck during weekends.

Smith became a high school baseball and football standout. A quarterback and defensive back, “I felt football was my best sport,” he told the Los Angeles Times.

Baseball, though, provided the best chance for him to earn money and help the family. Big-league clubs showed interest in the shortstop. In 1963, the Houston Colt .45s brought Smith to Dodger Stadium to work out before a game. “I was throwing as hard as possible on the sidelines when one throw got away from me,” Smith recalled to the Los Angeles Times. “Sandy Koufax was hitting fungoes to the outfielders and my throw missed his head by less than three inches. I still break into a cold sweat when I think about it.”

The Twins ended up being the club that signed Smith, 18, in June 1963 and assigned him to Wytheville (Va.) of the Appalachian League. The woman who ran the boarding house for blacks in the segregated town “told me to never go out alone,” Smith recalled to the Times. “I hit a white kid who called me a nigger. I yelled back to people in the stands … I’m lucky I’m not hanging from some tree.”

Smith played shortstop for Wytheville, made 41 errors in 65 games and had more strikeouts (69) than hits (65). The Twins made him available in the minor-league draft and the Red Sox took him. Four years later, Smith began the 1967 season as the Red Sox’s Opening Day second baseman and finished it as their center fielder in the World Series against the Cardinals.

Booed in Boston

Smith won a Gold Glove Award in 1968 and led the American League in doubles. He was tops in the league in total bases and extra-base hits in 1971.

He had one of the best arms in baseball, but his knees ached. The Red Sox wanted to trade Smith for pitching. They offered him to the Cubs for Ferguson Jenkins at the 1972 winter meetings, but the deal fell apart, the Boston Globe reported. Smith then was headed to the Dodgers for Bill Singer, but the Red Sox backed out at the last minute, general manager Al Campanis told the Times.

So Smith was back in Boston in 1973. He produced a .303 batting average, .398 on-base percentage and slugged at a .515 clip, but it was a miserable season for Smith. He confronted teammate Bill “Spaceman” Lee during a game in Milwaukee and called him gutless for not brushing back Brewers batters. Lee challenged him to a fight. Smith had the Spaceman seeing stars. The pitcher was knocked out cold. “He had it coming,” Smith told Frank Dolson of the Philadelphia Inquirer.

In a game at Boston, fans booed Smith when he didn’t run to first on a grounder. They booed him again when a shallow fly fell in front of him for a single. Smith mockingly doffed his cap on the way to the dugout, marched into the clubhouse, changed and went home while the game continued.

“My anger is like a balloon,” Smith told the Los Angeles Times. “Blow it up, let it go all over the place, then it lies on the floor, exhausted.”

The Red Sox put him on the trading block after the season. The Dodgers wanted him, but when the Red Sox demanded either Don Sutton or Andy Messersmith in return “that stopped that,” Al Campanis told The Sporting News.

The Cardinals won the prize, obtaining Smith and Ken Tatum for Rick Wise and Bernie Carbo on Oct. 26, 1973.

A Spike in spikes

Smith was a National League all-star in each of his first two seasons with St. Louis. He led the club in total bases in 1974, and his on-base percentage (.389) and slugging mark (.528) were tops among the regulars. Though sidelined for three weeks of the 1975 season because of back ailments, Smith was the Cardinals’ home run leader (with 19), and again produced quality on-base (.382) and slugging (.488) percentages.

Cardinals players appreciated him in those years. “He gives 100 percent all the time,” second baseman Ted Sizemore told the Los Angeles Times. “He’ll do anything to win.” In the book “The Spirit of St. Louis,” pitcher Rich Folkers said, “Reggie Smith was a good guy … When Reggie was in the lineup, he did real well.”

Bob Gibson saw Smith as a soulmate. In his book “Stranger to the Game,” Gibson said, “My affinity for Reggie Smith was a natural because we were very much alike, both of us maintaining an exterior toughness that really wasn’t what we were about. Smith was a very bright, thoughtful guy who was ready to fight if somebody looked at him wrong. I called him Spike because he reminded me of those spike-collared bulldogs on Saturday morning cartoons.”

Things go wrong

On the advice of agent Tom Reich, Smith requested the Cardinals defer a portion of his 1976 salary. When Gussie Busch said no, Smith opted to play without a signed contract. That meant the Cardinals would renew his pact basically at 1975 terms, but Smith would qualify to become a free agent after the season. “We had no quarrel with the Cardinals over gross salary,” Reich told the Los Angeles Times. “The difficulty was in working out the draft of the deferred arrangement.”

At 1976 spring training, a trade proposal was discussed: Reggie Smith and Ted Sizemore to the Dodgers for shortstop Bill Russell and outfielder Willie Crawford, Al Campanis confirmed to the Times.

When the Cardinals balked at giving up Smith, the trade became a swap of Sizemore for Crawford on March 2.

The 1976 Cardinals were a bad team. Their record entering the June 15 trade deadline was 25-34. Smith, experiencing pain in his left shoulder, struggled to hit. The injury caused him to alter his batting style. He couldn’t hold his hands as high as he wanted on the bat. Smith batted .174 in April and .219 in May. The bright spot was a three-homer game against the Phillies.

With third baseman Hector Cruz and first baseman Keith Hernandez struggling early in the season, manager Red Schoendienst had Smith fill in at third and first. In his book “I’m Keith Hernandez,” Hernandez recalled, “Reggie was a premier player … but he’d spent the last month, since being moved to the infield, sulking and brooding in the clubhouse. Everywhere he went, a dark cloud followed.”

Gussie Busch was fed up. The team was a mess and he viewed Smith as a problem. Busch assumed Smith wasn’t playing hard because of the contract disagreement. He wanted him gone _ just like he had ordered the trades of others who angered him such as Steve Carlton and Jerry Reuss.

“The Cardinals thought Reggie was jaking it,” Tom Reich said to the Los Angeles Times. “There were some words between Reggie and management. Hell, Reggie was playing in a lot of pain.”

Smith told the newspaper, “The Cardinals accused me of malingering to force a trade. I can’t understand them making that kind of statement. I have too much pride to stoop to that sort of thing.”

On June 15, Bing Devine called Al Campanis and offered him Smith. Campanis knew Devine was being forced to deal and had little leverage. Now, instead of Bill Russell, the Dodgers gave up Joe Ferguson, batting .222.

The deal was completed when the Dodgers agreed to the deferred salary arrangement and Smith agreed to sign a two-year contract for 1976-77. “Smith will receive in excess of $100,000 for each season, with a large portion of it deferred,” the Los Angeles Times reported.

Rot at the top

About a month after the trade, the Dodgers came to St. Louis for three games. Smith hit a home run in each. The pitchers were John Denny (solo shot), Pete Falcone (two-run) and Bob Forsch (three-run). “The pitch I threw to Reggie just straightened out,” Forsch told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. “I was trying to sink it outside … The last time I saw it, it was sinking over the wall in right.” Boxscore Boxscore Boxscore

Smith batted .476 against the 1976 Cardinals. Five of his 10 hits were home runs. After the season, exploratory surgery by Dr. Frank Jobe showed Smith had been playing with a torn rotator cuff, the Los Angeles Times reported.

Smith went on to produce 41 RBI in 57 career games versus the Cardinals and had a .404 on-base percentage against them.

(Joe Ferguson batted .201 for the 1976 Cardinals and was peddled to Houston for Larry Dierker after the season.)

In a five-year stretch from 1977-81, Smith helped the Dodgers win three National League pennants and a World Series title.

Asked about the Dodgers’ success, Smith told the Post-Dispatch in 1977, “It’s something that comes down right from the top, from the man at the head of the organization to everyone on the club. It’s something every team could have if management wanted it.

“I think the Cardinals might have had it in the past, but I don’t think they have it in the organization anymore, and you have to go right to the top man for the reason it’s not there anymore. I think Mr. Busch soured on his players a few years ago in those contract disputes and it’s still having an effect. He took the hard line, and to him the answer to negotiating a contract was to trade the player if the player also took the hard line.

“As a result, it became every player for himself, and pretty soon you no longer had a team but a bunch of individuals.”

Posted in Games, Hitters, Opponents, Trades | 20 Comments »

Strikeout story: Grover Cleveland Alexander, Tony Lazzeri

April 10, 2026 by retrosimba

There are more versions of the story of Grover Cleveland Alexander striking out Tony Lazzeri than there were teams in a Branch Rickey farm system.

First, the undisputed facts:

With the Cardinals ahead, 3-2, in the seventh inning of Game 7 in the 1926 World Series, the Yankees had the bases loaded and Lazzeri at the plate. Cardinals manager Rogers Hornsby called for Alexander to relieve Jesse Haines, who had developed a blister on his pitching hand. Alexander, 39, had pitched a complete game the day before in the Cardinals’ Game 6 victory.

Lazzeri, a rookie, had 18 home runs and 114 RBI that season. Alexander struck him out. Then he shut down the Yankees in the eighth and ninth, earning a save to go with two World Series wins.

Alexander retired the side in the eighth and the first two batters in the ninth. Then Babe Ruth drew a walk, but was thrown out attempting to steal. Boxscore

In winning their first World Series championship, the Cardinals transformed from a perennial also-ran into an elite franchise in the National League.

The two people most qualified to know the full story of Alexander’s Game 7 heroics were catcher Bob O’Farrell and Alexander himself. Alexander gave his account to Francis J. Powers for the book “My Greatest Day in Baseball.” O’Farrell related his version to Lawrence Ritter in “The Glory of Their Times.”

Alexander: “There are stories that I celebrated (after Game 6) and had a hangover when Rogers Hornsby called me from the bullpen to pitch to Lazzeri.  That isn’t the truth.”

O’Farrell: “When he struck out Lazzeri, he’d been out on a drunk the night before and was feeling the effects.”

Alexander: “In the clubhouse after (Game 6), Hornsby came over to me and said, ‘Alex, if you want to celebrate tonight, I wouldn’t blame you, but go easy for I may need you tomorrow.’ I said, ‘OK, Rog’ … Hell, I wanted to win that Series and get the big end of the money as much as anyone.”

O’Farrell: “After the sixth game was over, Rogers Hornsby told Alex that if Jesse Haines got in any trouble the next day he would be the relief man. So he should take care of himself. Well, Alex didn’t really intend to take a drink that night, but some of his friends got hold of him and thought they were doing him a favor by buying him a drink. Well, you weren’t doing Alex any favor by buying him a drink because he just couldn’t stop.”

Alexander: “Early in (Game 7), Hornsby said to me, ‘Alex, go down into the bullpen and keep your eye on (Bill) Sherdel and (Herman) Bell. Keep them warmed up and if I need help I’ll depend on you to tell me which one looks best.”

O’Farrell: “In the seventh inning of the seventh game, Alex is tight asleep in the bullpen, sleeping off the night before … The Yankees get the bases loaded with two outs, and the next batter up is Lazzeri. Hornsby and I gather around Haines at the pitching mound. Jesse’s fingers are a mass of blisters from throwing so many knuckleballs, and so Hornsby decides to call in old Alex, even though we know he’d just pitched the day before and had been up most of the night.”

Alexander: “The bullpen in the Yankee Stadium is under the bleachers and when you’re down there you can’t tell what’s going on out in the field … When the bench wants to get in touch with the bullpen, there’s a telephone. It’s the only real fancy modern bullpen in baseball. Well, I was sitting around down there, not doing much throwing, when the phone rang and an excited voice said, ‘Send in Alexander.’ … I take a few hurried throws and then start for the box.”

O’Farrell: “In he comes, shuffling slowly from the bullpen to the pitching mound.”

Alexander: “When I come out from under the bleachers, I see the bases filled and Lazzeri standing at the box. Tony is up there all alone, with everyone in that Sunday crowd watching him. So I just said to myself, ‘Take your time. Lazzeri isn’t feeling any too good up there and let him stew.’ ”

O’Farrell: “Hornsby asks, ‘Can you do it?’ Alex says, ‘I can try.’ We agree that Alex should pitch Lazzeri low and away, nothing up high.”

Alexander: “I get to the box and Bob O’Farrell, our catcher, comes out to meet me. ‘Let’s start where we left off yesterday,’ Bob said. Yesterday (in Game 6) Lazzeri was up four times against me without getting anything that looked like a hit. He got one off me in the second game of the Series, but with one out of seven I wasn’t much worried about him … I said OK to O’Farrell. We’ll curve him.”

O’Farrell: “The first pitch is a perfect low curve for strike one.”

Alexander: “My first pitch was a curve and Tony missed. Holding the ball in his hand, O’Farrell came out to the box again. ‘Alex,’ he began, ‘this guy will be looking for that curve next time. We curved him all the time yesterday. Let’s give him a fast one.’ I agreed.”

O’Farrell: “The second one comes in high, and Tony smacks a vicious line drive that lands in the left field stands but just foul. Oh, it’s foul by maybe 10 feet.”

Alexander: “I poured one in, right under his chin. There was a crack and I knew the ball was hit hard … I spun around … and all the Yankees on base were on their way, but the drive had a tail-end fade and landed foul by eight to 10 feet in the left field bleachers. I said to myself, ‘No more of that for you, my lad.’ ”

O’Farrell: “So I run out to Alex. ‘I thought we were going to pitch him low and outside?’ Alex says, ‘He’ll never get another one like that.’ ”

Alexander: Bob signed for another curve and I gave him one. Lazzeri swung where that curve started but not where it finished. The ball got a hunk of the corner and then finished outside.”

O’Farrell: “A low outside curve and Tony Lazzeri struck out.”

In the bottom of the ninth, with two outs, Babe Ruth took off from first base on Alexander’s first pitch to Bob Meusel.

Alexander: “I caught the blur of Ruth starting for second as I pitched, and then came the whistle of the ball as O’Farrell rifled it to second. I wheeled around and there was one of the grandest sights of my life. Hornsby, his foot anchored on the bag and his gloved hand outstretched, was waiting for Ruth to come in.”

O’Farrell: “I wondered why Ruth tried to steal. A year or two later I went on a barnstorming trip with the Babe and I asked him. Ruth said he thought Alex had forgotten he was there. Also that the way Alex was pitching they’d never get two hits in a row off him, so he better get in position to score if they got one. Maybe that was good thinking. Maybe not. In any case, I had him out a mile at second.”

 

Posted in Games, Hitters, Opponents, Pitchers | 12 Comments »

Bill Hallahan experienced wild times with Cardinals

April 3, 2026 by retrosimba

Growing up in Binghamton, N.Y., Bill Hallahan learned to play baseball on a sandlot near State Hospital Hill. His boyhood idol was big-league pitcher Grover Cleveland Alexander.

Hallahan was 8 when Alexander won 28 in his rookie season for the 1911 Phillies. Fifteen years later, Hallahan, 23, was a left-handed pitcher for the Cardinals when they acquired Alexander, 39, in 1926. Known to teammates as Alex, the old master made a lasting impression on Hallahan.

Easy does it

“I’ll never forget the first time he pitched for us,” Hallahan recalled to Donald Honig in the 1979 book “October Heroes.”

“I was sitting on the bench with another young pitcher and naturally we glued our eyes on Alex when he went out to warm up. He flipped a few into the catcher, then stopped, put his glove under his arm, took out a piece of gum, very casually took the paper off, put the gum in his mouth, looked around through the stands, then put his glove back on and started throwing again.

“He threw just a few more pitches, very easily, with no effort. Then he was through. He came back to the bench, put on his sweater _ we wore those big, red-knit sweaters on the Cardinals _ and sat down.

“I looked at this other fellow and said, ‘This is going to be murder. He isn’t throwing anything.’ Well, Alex went out that day and stood the other team on its ear. (Alexander limited the Cubs to four hits in 10 innings for the win.) Control, that’s how he did it. Absolute, total control. He had this little screwball that he could turn over on the corners all day long. Amazing fellow. Born to be a pitcher.”

Wild Bill

After finishing his schooling, Bill Hallahan worked as a clerk at the Corona Typewriter Company factory in Groton, N.Y. A left-hander, he pitched for the factory baseball team. He turned pro at 21 in 1924 and reached the majors with the 1925 Cardinals. Hallahan made six relief appearances for St. Louis before being returned to the minors. He rejoined the Cardinals in 1926 as a reliever on a staff with starters Jesse Haines, Flint Rhem, Bill Sherdel and then Alexander.

Described by writer Bob Broeg as “short, stocky, round-faced and pug-nosed, head cocked almost shyly to one side even when he pitched,” Hallahan threw hard but lacked command, earning him the nickname “Wild Bill.”

Hallahan was “the wildest man alive,” according to the Brooklyn Eagle. “He has so much stuff that it can’t be controlled.”

Hallahan couldn’t work up the nerve to ask Alexander for pitching tips.

“Alex never said much about anything,” Hallahan told Donald Honig. “When he did talk, it was seldom above a whisper. As a rule, we didn’t see him around after a game. He was a loner. He would go off by himself and do what he did, which I suppose was drink. That was his problem.

“He liked to go out before a game and work in the infield, generally around third base. One day we were taking batting practice and there’s Alex standing at third, crouched over, hands on knees, staring into the plate. A ground ball went by him and he never budged. Just remained there stock still, staring at the batter. Then another grounder buzzed by and same thing _ he never moved a muscle. Then somebody ripped a line drive past his ear and still he didn’t move. That’s when (Rogers) Hornsby noticed him. Rog was managing the club at the time.

“Hornsby let out a howl and said, ‘Where in the hell did he get it?’ ‘Where did he get it,’ he kept yelling. He ordered a search made and they found it, all right. In old Sportsman’s Park in St. Louis there used to be a ladies’ room not far from the corridor going down to the dugout, and that’s where he had stashed it, up in the rafters of the ladies’ room. One of those little square bottles of gin.”

Alexander sobered the spirits of Yankees batters in the 1926 World Series. He pitched a four-hitter to win Game 2. With the Cardinals on the brink of elimination, he pitched another complete-game gem to win Game 6 and then hurled 2.1 scoreless innings of relief, including the famous strikeout of Tony Lazzeri with the bases loaded, to save Game 7.

Curves and speed

Like Alexander, Hallahan pitched masterpieces in the World Series for the Cardinals. First, though, came detours through the minors.

Hallahan spent 1927 with Syracuse (19-11) and 1928 with Houston (23-12). Leading Houston to the championships of the Texas League and Dixie Series, Hallahan became the toast of the Texas oil town.

“Bill Hallahan’s name is a household word in Houston,” wrote Houston Chronicle sports editor Kern Tips in October 1928. “The restaurants serve eggs a la Hallahan; soda fountains can mix you a Hallahan frappe; a girl is the Hallahan if she has curves _ and speed. You go Hallahan in a card game when you run wild through the deck. Never has Houston had a more colorful, a more amiable, a more popular ballplayer.”

Hallahan said Houston player-manager Frank Snyder, a former Cardinals catcher, brought out the best in him. As Hallahan recalled to the St. Louis Star-Times, “I simply lacked confidence and walked everybody in the ballpark, including the soda boys and umpires … Snyder went behind the plate believing in me and I knew what he expected of me … It was the first time anybody had enough confidence in me to give me confidence in myself.”

The Cardinals brought back Hallahan in 1929, but he went winless the first five months of the season. A turnaround came when Grover Cleveland Alexander got turned out. Manager Bill McKechnie was fed up with Alexander’s drinking and in August 1929 the Cardinals told the pitcher to go home. Hallahan moved into the starting rotation and won four of his last five decisions.

Finding his groove

At spring training in 1930, Hallahan, 27, showed he was ready for a big role on the St. Louis staff. “Ever since he joined the Cardinals in the spring of 1924, shrewd baseball observers have been predicting a great future for Hallahan,” Sid Keener of the Star-Times noted. “The youngster fizzled annually, but this spring he has been more impressive than ever before.”

None other than Babe Ruth praised Hallahan’s pitching. In an exhibition game at Bradenton, Fla., the Yankees’ slugger swung late at a Hallahan fastball in the first inning and dribbled a slow roller to third. In his next at-bat, Ruth watched another Hallahan fastball dart across the inside corner for strike three.

According to Sid Keener, Ruth said to Cardinals manager Gabby Street, “You showed me a great young pitcher out there this afternoon. I don’t know when I’ve ever seen a left-hander with such burning speed and a curve that almost completely baffles a batter. Hallahan almost whipped that fastball past me before I could get the bat off my shoulder in the first inning, and when I was expecting a curve from him in the third with two strikes called, he whistled across his fastball and I could not get my bat off my shoulder.”

Hallahan was a prominent starter for the Cardinals between 1930 and 1935. He twice led National League pitchers in strikeouts but also three times issued the most walks and threw the most wild pitches. He was the Cardinals’ wins leader in 1930 (15) and 1931 (19). Hallahan was the National League starter in the first All-Star Game in 1933.

“When he had it, especially when he could put his blazing fastball and jagged overhanded curve over the plate, Hallahan was second probably only to the New York Giants’ Carl Hubbell among National League left-handed pitchers,” Bob Broeg wrote in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

Big-game pitcher

Hallahan pitched in seven World Series games for the Cardinals and was 3-1 with a save and a 1.36 ERA.

After Hallahan pitched a shutout against the Athletics in Game 3 of the 1930 World Series, Babe Ruth gushed in his syndicated newspaper column, “I don’t think there’s a ball team in the country that could have beaten him in that game, or even caused him very much trouble.” Boxscore

Hallahan’s World Series save came in Game 7 versus the A’s in 1931. Boxscore

Hallahan won both of his starts in the 1931 World Series _ Games 2 and 5. The Game 2 ending was a dandy.

With the Cardinals ahead, 2-0, in the ninth, the A’s had two on, two outs and pinch-hitter Jimmy Moore at the plate.

“I got two strikes on him,” Hallahan recalled to Donald Honig, “and then broke off a beauty of a curve and he struck out on it. Or so I thought.”

The ball hit the ground before catcher Jimmie Wilson gloved it. Wilson needed to either tag the batter, or throw to first, to complete the out. Instead, he fired the ball to third baseman Jake Flowers, thinking the game was over. Moore was safe at first, loading the bases.

“You don’t like to give a team like the A’s four outs in an inning, but that’s what I had to do,” Hallahan recalled to Donald Honig. “The batter was Max Bishop, a fellow I didn’t like to pitch to. He was a smart little hitter who generally got the bat on the ball … A fellow like Bishop _ they called him ‘Camera Eye’ _ guarded the plate like a hawk and it was hard to get a ball past him.

“I put everything I had on it and Bishop popped one up in foul ground that Jim Bottomley chased down and then dove over the Athletics’ bullpen bench and caught by reaching into the stands. It was a really remarkable play by Jim. That ended the game for real. I always said it was a lucky thing we were playing at home because the fans got out of the way and let Jim make the play. If we had been in Philadelphia, I’m sure they wouldn’t have been so helpful.” Boxscore

 

Posted in Games, Pitchers | 8 Comments »

A black stain of shame on a St. Louis Brown

March 27, 2026 by retrosimba

A St. Louis Browns player was part of a mob that lynched a man.

The murder of Allen Brooks occurred March 3, 1910, in Dallas. Brooks, a black man, was in court on charges he attacked a 3-year-old white girl. A mob stormed the courtroom, tied a rope around Brooks’ neck, then pulled and hurled him from a second-story window to a frenzied crowd below. Brooks’ body was dragged several blocks and hung from a telephone pole. Then the rioters marched to the county jail, looking for two black men accused of murders, and used steel rails to force their way inside, but the prisoners had been taken away by officers.

The mob included Dode Criss of the Browns. “Criss was with the crowd when it moved on to the courthouse and jail,” the St. Louis Star-Times reported. “… Dode does not say he led the mob on the jail, but says he saw what transpired and believes the black was given his just desserts.”

Spitter and hitter

Dode Criss was born in Mississippi, near Tupelo, and raised in rural Texas. His farming family settled in Ellis County, near Waxahachie, and he went to school in Rockett. According to the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, Criss “had an ability to spit and never miss a mark. Around the grocery in the evening, Dode entertained the crowd with his capacity of saliva control, hitting rat holes, striking chalk marks and lambasting dogs in the eye. He was a faultless shot.”

Criss played ball, too. He threw right, batted left, pitched and roamed the outfield. In 1906, at 21, Criss was with a Class D minor-league club in Texas. A teammate was 18-year-old Tris Speaker, a future Baseball Hall of Famer. In his book “Baseball As I Have Known it,” Frederick G. Lieb wrote that Speaker confessed to being a member of the Ku Klux Klan.

After spending another season in the minors, Criss was brought to spring training with the Browns in 1908. The Browns thought he was a pitcher. What he did best, though, was hit. Manager Jimmy McAleer kept the rookie on the club and made him its primary pinch-hitter. Criss hit .341 overall (in 82 at-bats) for the 1908 Browns and .333 as a pinch-hitter.

“He is a player who excels all others as a hitter but is sadly deficient as a pitcher or a fielder,” the St. Louis Post-Dispatch observed.

Billy Murphy of the Star-Times wrote, “He can’t run. He can’t field. He can’t think. There is nothing that he can do but hit and throw (and) his throwing isn’t even accurate … He has to make a hit to the fence to get two bases. Sometimes he has been nearly thrown out at first on hits to the outfield … Criss is valuable for just one thing. That is to hit in a pinch. Then someone has to run for him. Someone has to think for him.”

Foreshadowing the designated hitter rule that was to be adopted by the American League 65 years later, Syd Smith, a teammate of Criss with the 1908 Browns, told the Houston Chronicle, “If a 10th position were to be provided for on a ballclub, I think Dode would come into his own.”

Criss’ second season with the Browns, in 1909, resulted in a .304 batting mark as a pinch-hitter and 1-5 record as a pitcher.

Trouble brewing

In March 1910, Criss and his wife made the 30-mile trek from their home to Dallas so that Mrs. Criss could get a train to Mississippi, where she would visit relatives, he told the Star-Times. Criss had bought a railway ticket to Houston, where the Browns were training for the spring, but had it redeemed so that he could stay in Dallas until after the “fun” was over, the Star-Times reported. The “fun” was joining the mob forming for the court hearing of Allen Brooks.

Acting on a tip he received, Star-Times reporter Brice Hoskins asked Criss upon his arrival at spring training about being part of the Dallas mob responsible for Brooks’ lynching. Criss confirmed he was there.

A nationally syndicated sports feature that was published in newspapers such as the Akron Beacon Journal, Dayton Herald, Milwaukee Daily News and San Francisco Bulletin flippantly reported, “Criss … is the possessor of probably the most unique excuse of any ballplayer for reporting late for the spring workout. He was two days late in showing up at Houston this spring because he stopped in Dallas to participate in a lynching. Dode is a Texan who relishes excitement.”

Volatile mix

According to multiple published reports, Allen Brooks, 58, was arrested on Feb. 23, 1910. Brooks was employed as a laborer at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Henry J. Buvens of Dallas. Police said Brooks took the Buvens’ daughter, Mary Ethel Buvens, to a barn on the property and carried her into the loft. A black housekeeper went looking for the child and found her with Brooks in the barn. The woman took the girl and ran into the house. Police found Brooks hiding in a basement furnace room. The next day, Feb. 24, he was indicted by a Dallas grand jury and charged with criminal assault.

(While in custody, Brooks told officers he was drunk on the day he confronted the child and didn’t know what he was doing, the Fort Worth Star-Telegram reported.)

The heinousness of the crime Brooks was accused of committing produced an outburst of rage and racism. In the predawn hours of Feb. 25, a mob of about 500 men surrounded the county jail in Dallas and demanded that Brooks be turned over to them, the Waco Times-Herald reported. The mob had a 30-foot steel rail and threatened to batter down the jail doors if Brooks didn’t appear. The county sheriff and city police chief allowed 12 mob members to search the jail and see for themselves Brooks wasn’t there. Brooks had been moved to a secret location.

The mob dispersed. Officials urged the public to trust the legal process. “There is absolutely no need for mob violence,” assistant county attorney B.M. Clark said to the Fort Worth Record-Register. “… Prompt justice will be administered.”

Order in the court

An arraignment was scheduled for March 3 in Dallas. According to police and county officials, early-morning trains into Dallas that day unloaded passengers from Ellis, Hunt and Rockwell counties. Joining men from rural sections of Dallas County, they formed the heart of the mob that went to the courthouse, the Fort Worth Record-Register reported.

The county sheriff and all his men were on duty at the courthouse along with about 15 city police officers. In all, Brooks was guarded by about 50 law enforcement personnel, the St. Louis Globe-Democrat reported.

The arraignment was held in a second-floor courtroom. About 1,000 people crowded into the corridors and stairways of the courthouse, the Record-Register reported. At least another 1,000 more waited outside.

During the morning hearing, Brooks’ attorneys asked Judge R.B. Seay for a continuance in order to construct their case. The judge gave the defense attorneys an hour in which to prepare their motion in writing. Brooks was taken from the courtroom to a jury room to wait.

When word of this procedure filtered out to the simpletons in the hallways, the message got misinterpreted. The crowd thought a change of venue was being considered. That angered them, and a call went out to rise up.

The invaders “swept county officials and policemen aside like chaff before the wind,” the Record-Register reported. The door to the courtroom was battered down and sheriff deputies were overpowered. According to the Fort Worth newspaper, “The officers fought back desperately but refrained from using their pistols … One by one the officers dropped from sheer exhaustion.”

Mob rule

The mob forced its way into the jury room, where Brooks was guarded by two sheriff’s deputies. According to the Record-Register, as one drew a revolver, a mob leader snarled at him, “Shoot, (expletive) you, shoot; you nigger lover.”

Brooks, crouching under a table, was seized. One end of a rope was tied around the neck of the shaking man and the other end was pitched to the crowd below. As Brooks was shoved from behind, a “mighty tug was made on the rope from below,” the Record-Register reported. Brooks tumbled out of a second-story window 30 feet above the ground. As he fell headlong, Brooks spread out his arms and legs. His head struck the pavement.

“Dozens of men jumped on him and his face was kicked into a pulp and he was bruised all over,” the Globe-Democrat reported.

Men grabbed the rope and, with the rest of the mob following, dragged the body several blocks up Main Street through the business district. The number of people in the mob had swelled to between 3,000 and 5,000, according to published estimates. “From the windows in the office buildings along Main Street … faces poked out to take in the horrible sight,” the Record-Register reported.

Brooks’ body was strung up to an iron spike on a telephone pole next to an arch built to honor the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks of the United States of America, a fraternal organization focused on charity, justice and brotherly love.

“Just as the body was swinging upward, men and boys grabbed at the clothing and tore nearly every rag from his body,” the Record-Register reported. “A fight ensued for the torn bits of clothing, as they were wanted as souvenirs.” (Brooks was one of five black men lynched in Texas in 1910, according to D Magazine.)

The bloodlust of the savages wasn’t quenched by their ghastly act. The mob marched to the county jail, seeking two black men, Burrell Oates and Bubber Robinson, charged with murders. The sheriff told the mob the prisoners had been moved. Unconvinced, the mob “started in to demolish the doors and underpinnings with steel rails as battering rams,” the Globe-Democrat reported. “They then got dynamite and threatened to blow up the jail.”

Officers allowed some of the crowd to search the jail. Seeing the cells were empty, the throng dispersed.

American injustice

A Dallas County grand jury was convened to investigate the lynching. On March 20, the Star-Times reported “Secret Service agents are endeavoring to find out what Dode Criss knows of the recent lynching at Dallas.”

The investigations led nowhere. The grand jury didn’t return an indictment. No one was arrested nor charged in the lynching of Brooks.

“The grand jury admitted it was either unable to reach the facts, or that it regarded the lynching of Allen Brooks … as too trivial an occurrence to be worth its notice,” the Record-Register reported.

According to the Fort Worth newspaper, indications were “the grand jury not only never had any intention of investigating the mob, despite the orders to do so by Judge Seay, but preferred to silently endorse the outbreak.” The same grand jury returned 110 felony indictments in other cases but noted it endeavored not “to encumber the court docket with cases of a doubtful or frivolous nature.”

For the record

Dode Criss spent two more seasons (1910-11) in the majors with the Browns before returning to the minors. His departure “will not be mourned by local fans,” the Star-Times declared. “… During the time Criss was with the Browns, three different managers tried to make something out of him and all failed.”

Criss went on to play six seasons with the Houston Buffaloes. After Criss died in 1955, Clark Nealon of the Houston Post wrote that Criss “was more than just a Houston Buff all-time ballplayer. He was and forever will be in Texas League history a legend.” At team reunions, Criss “basked in admiration the likes of which generally is reserved for Ruth and Cobb,” Nealon noted.

In 2021, the Texas Historical Commission recognized the lynching of Allen Brooks with a historical marker at Main and Akard streets in Dallas, D Magazine reported. In 2023, a second state marker was installed at the southwest corner of the courthouse, near the window Brooks was thrown from.

Posted in Hitters, Pitchers | 13 Comments »

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