By Two Finger Carney
#348 March 3, 2005
CAN'T BE TOO CAREFUL
I recently came across an audio cassette of an old Stan Freberg (record) album, The United States of America -- an innocent-enough sounding title, for a satire of American history. It's one of the comedy albums I memorized while growing up, along with the skits of Bob Newhart (who once imagined how Abner Doubleday went about selling his new game to a manufacturer), Jonathan Winters and others.
Anyway, one of Freberg's satires has Tom Jefferson trying to convince Ben Franklin to sign the Declaration of Independence (and quickly, before everyone takes off for the 4th of July holiday) ... it climaxes with their duet of "A Man Can't Be Too Careful What He Signs These Days."
Was I thinking of this, when I finally signed my contract to turn over Never on Friday to Potomac Books (formerly Brassey's)? Not really. I think Potomac will do a good job -- I only wish the book-making (can I use that word in a baseball newsletter?) process was faster. Of course, I see my manuscript as ready to go; but I know it's not that simple. At least things are in motion and I can hope that at least advance copies will be out in 2005. I am really anxious to get the thing into print -- because I'm hoping it will stir up more information and get many more people into the hunt, for stuff they never knew existed.
Actually, the "Can't be too careful" thing was a trigger to wonder what if the three ballplayers -- Cicotte, Jackson and Williams -- did not sign away their immunity from prosecution, and instead were granted immunity, in exchange for their confidential testimony that was supposed to help cleanse the sport of baseball of the gambling menace?
Perhaps it would have made no difference at all. Eddie still would have cried some, confessing that he did it all for the wife and kiddies ... couldn't regret it more ... but yes, he took $10,000. Who knows? After all, the players themselves apparently did not know that what they said to the 1920 grand jury could and would be used against them. So yes, they likely would have told the same stories.
The press came down hard on the trio of volunteers. Remember, if they had not stepped forward, they were not going to be subpoenaed until the 1920 pennant race was decided. If the Sox won the AL pennant again, their testimony might have been backed up until after the World Series! Perhaps if they had come out of that Fall Classic as heroes, baseball would have been a bit less interested in what happened in October 1919. (Maybe with a little more cash on hand, the players would have hired their own lawyers and not leaned on Austrian.)
But let's assume that they eventually told their same stories -- confirming that the fix had indeed been in. Now what? The press crashes down on them, and probably they are suspended. But they cannot be prosecuted. Would the incoming Commish Landis have still banished them? Would he have treated them differently if they were World Champions and heroes? Perhaps -- he showed Babe Ruth who was in charge. Or would he have taken a different tack?
Knowing they were not going to trial, Landis might have set up his own hearings, as he did in January 1927 to deal with the charges of Swede Risberg. Perhaps he then might have learned more about what actually happened, and what each player did or did not do -- and then perhaps instead of a blanket banishment, Landis might have given each player a fine, and suspensions of varying lengths. A multi-year suspension would have ended Cicotte's career. But the others might have been able to play again.
Would we know more today, or less, if there was no "Black Sox Trial"? Possibly we would know more. Immunity might have moved Gandil, Risberg, Weaver and McMullin to step forward in turn, with more than just protestations of innocence. There was little new information revealed in the trial. The players' lawyers advised silence (except to repudiate those grand jury statements), and that strategy worked -- as far as the verdict went. But as I've noted before, it might have been better for Weaver and Jackson, maybe for all of them, if the verdict was guilty and then appealed. Perhaps in a higher court -- perhaps away from Chicago -- we would have learned a lot more.
A WEEK IN THE LIFE
The life, that is, of a Yahoo group member. I've mentioned before that I sometimes spend more time on e-mail these days, than on Notes. And I've also recommended here before, the Yahoo group that Rod Nelson started up for the folks interested in the B-Sox ... not as "hooked" as me, necessarily -- just interested.
Anyone can join the group by clicking on the link, at the www.baseball1.com/carney site. Here are my posts from the past week:
PEACHES & MAHARG (2/25/05)
I think the confusion between Bill Maharg & Peaches Graham is doomed to
continue ... in my research, the identity problem is as ingrained as "Say
it ain't so, Joe." True, there are probably more sources that debunk the
issue, but the Graham/Maharg thing is in too many places to just go away.
What gives it credence is the fact that several of the gamblers used
pseudonyms or false identities. Was it "Brown" or Nat(e) Evans (or Evens)?
David Zelcer is "Zelser" in almost every book because his name was
misspelled on the indictment ... and apparently he went by "(Curly)
Bennett" when he met with the players. Ben Frankel, obviously a patriot,
went by Franklin. Abe Attell was Albert Knoehr. We know Asinof names the
theoretical assassin of Lefty & Mrs. Williams "Harry F." and you see THAT
all over, too.
And it's humbling to keep in mind that all we can deal with are the names
that made it into the newspapers (via the courtroom or by other channels)
... let's face it, the really smart guys flew well under the radar ... there
are numerous references to (for example) the syndicates in Pittsburgh, but
if any names surfaced, they never left the Pittsburgh press. Same with
Indianapolis, New Orleans, maybe Montreal, Detroit, Philly. Our graveyards
are heavy with tombstones from 1918, thanks to the flu pandemic ... but
wouldn't it be great to look at all the bank records from October 1919 to
see who became wealthy after the Series? (I ran into one story about a lot
of mortgage foreclosures in Chicago in the months or year following the
Series -- presumably, those who bet and lost big ... have others seen that
report?)
The slipperiness of underworld names hit home to me when I was on a ProQuest
tangent, looking into a scandal (in the late '20s or early '30s, I think)
involving jockeys and a west coast race track or two ... the initial reports
had the masterminds as "the same syndicate" that had fixed the 1919 WS but
in fact, as near as I can tell, the only "link" was that most of the
gamblers/fixers involved in both events were Jewish. Anyway, if you follow
this later scandal in the press, day by day and month by month, the names
keep changing -- it's as if the first reports are guesses ... then nicknames
appear ... and MAYBE in the reports from the trial, a year or two after the
story breaks, the press gets it right.
HARRY F. (2/27/05)
Mike C asked about my comment, "We know Asinof names the theoretical
assassin of Lefty & Mrs. Williams 'Harry F.' and you see THAT all over,
too."
Mike, all I meant was that the NAME for the first documented designated
hitter (OK, hit-man) came from Eliot Asinof, at the suggestion of his lawyer
... he gave the "thug" the name "Harry F" so that if others used the name,
it would be clear that they were citing "Eight Men Out." Sure enough, you
see Harry F all over, including Ken Burns' "documentary" on baseball.
I'll just repeat this for the newcomers -- the evidence that Lefty Williams
was actually threatened before he threw away Game Eight in the first inning,
is very thin. Asinof said he got the story from Lefty's wife, and that can
also be traced to a magazine article where she is quoted (Flagler, J.M.
"Requiem for a Southpaw," The New Yorker, December 5, 1959). Lefty himself
never mentioned the threat, and he had ample opportunity, both before the
grand jury and in several affidavits before the 1924 Milwaukee trial. There
is some evidence that Cicotte and Jackson were threatened, too, but nothing
very explicit. The one documented threat involving the use of a gun has Kid
Gleason and his "iron" leaning on the team to win.
Long ago I noticed that the world of the B-Sox is a lot like Lewis Carroll's
Wonderland, where not much is as it seems, including logic.
WEB GEMS (2/27/05)
For Buck Weaver fans: check out the article "Weaver Now Waiter for Soda
Font" in the Atlanta Constitution, Nov 21, 1920. (If you belong to SABR, you
can find it in a minute using ProQuest.)
James L. Kilgallen, a reporter whose name we've seen before, apparently
found Buck working in a Chicago drug store at 69th & Halsted Sts. Less than
two months after the scandal broke, Buck was optimistic about being cleared
in any trial, and he was hoping to be back in uniform for the 1921 season.
Buck says to Kilgallen that if he was sure that the fix was in, he could
have made a lot of money betting on that certain knowledge -- but he "didn't
get a nickel." "The only bet I made was with Louie Comiskey -- a pair of
shoes that we'd beat the Reds. That was after we lost the first two games."
And, I think, after the fix was off. (In Chicago or maybe New York, the
headline of this article might read, "Weaver Admits Betting on Crooked
Series".)
Buck does not deny that he was at the meeting with Cicotte (Warner Hotel).
"Suppose you are asked to come and hear a proposition. You go and hear it.
Then you say 'no' -- absolutely no -- and then you go ahead about your
business and play ball. Are you a crook?" (Landis: yes.)
"Don't say Buck Weaver is cringing, that he's hanging his head that he's
trying to run away. Just ask the public to withhold judgment until they hear
all. I will tell everything about myself, but there is one thing I won't do,
and that is say anything against anyone else. I hate a squealer."
"I know in my own heart I never helped throw a game. If my conscience wasn't
clear in this respect I would never think of taking a ball in my hands
again."
Asked about the package that McMullin delivered to him -- "Weaver smiled
broadly. For some reason this question amused him. 'Wait till the public
finds out what was in that package,' he replied. 'What was it -- a bottle?'
'No,' he laughed -- adding, criptically, 'You wait till it comes out.'"
I don't think the contents of the mystery package ever did come out -- did
they? Any guesses? Maybe Louie Comiskey's old shoes?
WEAVER & WOODRUFF (2/28/05)
We will not settle this here, I'm pretty sure of that, but I would ask all
those who believe Buck Weaver was guilty of conspiracy, if they would
continue to believe that if they found out that Kid Gleason knew about the
Fix before Game One, and mentioned his knowledge (or strong suspicion) to
the team -- before Game One. I also would ask if they think the conspiracy
rule was ex post facto -- made after the "crime" was committed. If it
wasn't, then any and all players who had some "guilty knowledge" (but not
certain knowledge -- Buck was not certain the fix was in, he said) of any
fixing attempt or bribe offer, ought to be dealt with the same way, banned
for life?
Landis' edict was made in 1921 (he may have given his opinion earlier, but
it didn't matter until he was sworn in). It got hyped after the trial
verdict came back "not guilty" but in fact Landis had been on record almost
from Day 1 as Commish, that they eight players were in really deep trouble,
as far as baseball was concerned. Obviously, Landis was sending a message
when he banned Buck for not squealing (Buck's word) or "informing" -- or
policing his friends. And it was very effective, no doubt about it.
Remember, though, that Landis was not always fair (to understate) ... he
also criticized Buck Weaver for not speaking up in the 1921 trial -- when he
(Landis) knew full well that Buck was just following his attorney's advice.
On that point, is there any report from the trial that Buck ever spoke up,
as the actor who played him did in "Eight Men Out"? I think I've read all
the accounts in the ProQuest papers, and I think Asinof might be
embellishing there.
Woodruff's name was mentioned as a candidate for Commish, wasn't it? He was
most definitely pro-Johnson. Fullerton (of the Chi Herald & Examiner in
1919) was as pro-Comiskey as anyone on the planet. Imagine if Hughie didn't
have that blind spot about Commy and his investigating!
MORE ON BUCK'S DILEMMA (3/1/05)
I wrote:
"We will not settle this here, I'm pretty sure of that, but I would ask all
those who believe Buck Weaver was guilty of conspiracy, if they would
continue to believe that if they found out that Kid Gleason knew about the
Fix before Game One, and mentioned his knowledge (or strong suspicion) to
the team -- before Game One."
And Bob F. added:
"Yes I would believe that Buck Weaver was guilty of conspiracy. Kid
Gleason's "knowledge" was not the same as Buck Weaver's 'knowledge.' Kid
Gleason and Charles Comiskey heard rumors, as did a lot of people. But Buck
Weaver knew the facts. He had to. He helped plan it. He admitted to it.
He attended two meetings with gamblers where the ways and means of fixing
the world series was discussed. What a difference this is!!! I am surprised
that many of the folks studying the Black Sox seem to miss (at least to me)
the obvious.
"And having only rumors, what did both men do? Gleason went to Comiskey and
Comiskey went to his superiors. They actually reported rumors. If Gleason
did confront the team, doesn't that say that Gleason and Comiskey tried to
stop what was rumored (if it could be true)? So where
is the criticism of Gleason and Comiskey before and during the series? What
else could they do? Bench 8 players or call off the world series based on
rumors? They heard some rumors and promptly told their superiors about it.
Buck Weaver did not do that. And he had SOLID
evidence. Hearing a rumor does not make you a conspirator. Meeting with
people and actually conspiring to do something does. The betrayal these
players engaged in ruined the lives of Kid Gleason and Charles Comiskey. It
was not Gleason or Comiskey who had blood on their hands."
Well, if there weren't degrees of guilt in this mess (the Landis position),
there were degrees of guilty knowledge. Without bringing in Heisenberg here,
I think it can be argued that no one was absolutely certain that the Fix was
in, until Cicotte plunked Rath. I bet even Gandil had some sliver of doubt.
I base this more on Cicotte's later statements, which taken together, give
the impression that he was truly torn (I think he had the keenest conscience
by far) and experienced some regret as soon as he hit Rath. Weaver
definitely said that he was not certain, and the impression I have from
Buck's later statements is that he was hoping against hope that the thing
was called off, OR that the players who had met with the gamblers (and Buck
WAS there, too) would decide to double-cross them. That is a lot of
speculation there -- my point is that there were degrees of certainty, with
(I think) Gandil & Cicotte having the most, Jackson the least (of the 8MO),
and Weaver somewhere in between.
Assessing the knowledge & certainty of Comiskey and Gleason is much more
difficult. Based on the Fullerton memoir from 1935, Comiskey, Johnson and
Barney Dreyfuss (a NL leader) all were duly informed by Fullerton before
Game One that the Fix was in (Commy & Ban, Hughie believed, already knew),
and Fullerton expected them to act on that knowledge, and not let the crooks
get away with it ... when he ran into the stone wall (because this Series
was going to bring in a fortune), Fullerton called them "whitewashing
bastards" -- that's how certain HE was.
Kid Gleason, I believe, also knew about the Fix before Game One ... either
from Comiskey (it seems probable that they discussed it) or from his own
sources in the gambling community (he rec'd telegrams about it; at least one
was from Havana, a spot where John McGraw had interests ... we know
Rothstein later said that he urged McGraw to tell Gleason about the Fix.
McGraw denied this. For some reason, I think A.R. is credible here -- on the
other hand, Ban Johnson is the source, and Ban had no fondness for McGraw.)
Commy always said that he informed Johnson of his suspicions (playing down
his degree of certainty); Johnson always denied that he replied with "that's
the yelp of a beaten cur" (or any of the seven or eight variations). Both
Commy & Ban distanced themselves from having early knowledge and certain
knowledge; neither, in my view, are as credible as Fullerton.
What does that leave us with? Buck Weaver, having sat in on meetings, knows
that the Fix is on deck, if not in motion. There is no rule saying that he
should tell his superiors (that would come later) but if there WAS such a
rule, would this have been necessary? Or did they already know?
Buck refused to squeal, giving the reason (at one time) that he simply did
not know exactly who was in and who was out. This is exactly what Comiskey
said when he was catching flak for not coming down on the crooked players
sooner -- he had eight names, "bunched together" in the rumors, but he
really wasn't sure about all eight being equally crooked and he didn't want
to ban the bunch because he might be punishing innocent men, or damaging
reputations. (Yes, he knew how much these guys were worth, in dollars and
cents, and of course he was reluctant to wreck his team. But he could say
with a straight face, "I just wasn't sure." The press, if not the public,
bought it. When Buck said the same thing, I think the press and public were
sympathetic -- but Landis was not. And his was the only opinion that
mattered.)
Again: "So where is the criticism of Gleason and Comiskey before and during
the series? What else could they do? Bench 8 players or call off the world
series based on rumors?"
Fullerton did not expect the baseball authorities to cancel the Series. But
the rumors were so thick, the talk so blatant, that yes, he did expect Commy
and Ban to set aside their feud and act -- stop the games before they
started, and have a real investigation, before anyone's socks got blackened
(my image). But Commy said Ban wouldn't, and Ban said Commy was
squealing -- this was before Game One, according to Fullerton. Their feud
became an excuse, or an obstacle, to any hope of joint cooperation that
would make "clean games" the primary concern. Commy put it all on Ban -- who
as the reigning Czar, outranked any owner. Since Johnson refused to act,
Commy could say, again with a straight face, "Hey, I told my boss, the ball
was in his court." The only problem I have with this is OF COURSE Commy
could have acted unilaterally and pulled out his team. (McGraw pulled the
Giants and there was no 1904 WS -- not really a precedent, but an example.)
Johnson was in a very ticklish position -- yes, it all rested with him, but
he could plausibly deny that he was sure that the Fix was in. There was no
evidence -- because there was no one looking for it and investigating. If he
acts, Commy could jump all over him for meddling without cause -- I don't
think Commy would have done that, though -- he'd have let everyone else do
it. (Remember the pressure on Fay Vincent to resume the Series after the
earthquake in '89? Acts of God are barely acceptable reasons ... but to
postpone the games without evidence!) And then there was that feud -- it
could look like Johnson was just screwing with Commy's party. This would be
a factor in Johnson's activities right up until the trial. Mustn't look
like a czar messing with an owner....
Buck Weaver was a pawn in October 1919, who was punished for not telling his
team what they already knew -- no I'm not absolutely certain of that, but
I'm pretty sure. I do concede that Buck had earlier knowledge (as well as
more certain) than Gleason and Commy, from the meetings, and if you want to
make another rule that he should have reported the plot ASAP, or within 24
hours, or five working days, fine -- but he wouldn't do that no matter what.
Not if he wasn't absolutely sure.
I have great sympathy for Kid Gleason. I think he confronted his team about
the Fix early on -- he must have. Forget Veeck's comments in the Harry's
Diary chapter of Hustler's Handbook. Veeck was just wrong about this.
Gleason did everything he could to win that Series.
As for Commy & Ban, I don't use the phrase "blood on their hands" -- but I
do use the word "cover-up." And that's the heart of my research and my
book -- what happens after the Series, both to conceal the Fix, and to bring
it to light.
Bob, you are right, the Fix wrecked Gleason and Comiskey ... or was it the
revelation of the Fix? There was no scandal until what happened became
known. I think Gleason could sleep fine after the Series. I'm not so sure
about Commy. Before the scandal, it was said that he could be Chicago's
mayor, if he so desired. Afterwards -- well, his health had been on the
downswing anyway (he missed a couple games in Oct 1919).
As for Fullerton, he expected Comiskey to keep his word -- to drop seven
players before Spring Training 1920. He wrote that in his column October 10.
Imagine how this story might have turned out if Fullerton was a close friend
with Ban Johnson, instead of Commy. I could be wrong, but if that was the
case, I don't think Comiskey would have a Cooperstown plaque today.
CONSPIRACY THEORY (3/2/05)
Two more cents on whether Buck Weaver was unfairly punished, or given
exactly what he deserved. First, I don't think that Buck, if he knew the
meaning of the word "conspirator," would have understood himself to have
been one. My impression from all I've read is that he attended the meetings,
but never committed himself to the project. Sometimes I wonder if he took
them seriously -- he may well have believed fixing a Series was foolhardy,
impossible to pull off. (He also had some job security, having signed a
pretty nice multi-year contract.) If he really did argue that the money had
to be paid up front (for example), was he giving that view as an outsider?
My point is that Buck seemed to have distanced himself from the plot, even
tho he WAS in the meetings where it was discussed. Could I sit in with a
group planning to rob a bank, and not be a crook? Sure -- I'm thinking of
college days where all kinds of theoretical pranks and crimes were talked
about -- of course, no one took them seriously, it was just a "what if we"
exercise, for fun. (How can we move the statue of the college's founder into
the faculty lounge?)
Mark: "Prove to me the eight were not in the various meetings (2 or more
men) where the ways of throwing the world series was discussed at some
point." You see the problem here -- you are using the 1921 Landis edict
language. If it was promulgated in 1918, the meetings may never have taken
place. Instead, what WAS "promulgated" was the Hal Chase exoneration -- a
green light to proceed without fear of recrimination, in the yes of some
(including Christy Mathewson).
Conspiracy, of course, is precisely what the players were found "not guilty"
of -- but that's not really anything but a caution about using the word.
Just ask, was Buck with "them" or against them?
Steve S's mention of the "Say it ain't so" story reminds me to ask again --
does anyone else have a collection of all the variations? That NY Evening
Telegram story sounds a lot like Fullerton's, which I *think* he based on
wire reports -- he was not in Chicago, to observe the scene -- was he? The
story was terrific -- like Ruth's called shot. So it has a life of its own
and has even outgrown baseball. I've found lots of people debunking it, and
others claiming credit for it. For what it's worth, Jackson considered it
fiction. It didn't help that the most colorful description, the one best
known today, came from the typewriter of Hugh Fullerton -- that joker who
had been discredited for saying the fix was in. In Hughie's hour of
vindication, he used superstar Joe Jackson, fallen hero, to deliver the bad
news to the world. Anyway, swapping versions of "Say it ain't so" can be
fun.
CONSPIRACY: NOT A FOUR-LETTER WORD (3/3/05)
I wanted to include this in my previous post about Buck's participation;
just found it:
"I was told that at the meeting "Buck" Weaver raved and swore and declared
he had nothing to do with the losing of the games, and he would not touch
the dirty money."
The words are from Hugh Fullerton, not an infallible source, but a pretty
unique one. They are taken from The Chicago Journal, September 29, 1920, the
article Mark kindly typed out & passed along to us (the one that was
abbreviated in the Atlanta Constitution). I could be wrong, but the picture
I get is not of someone I'd call a conspirator, someone "in" on the plot.
(For the record, Fullerton has seven players in this meeting, which took
place after game three(?) ... Jackson wasn't mentioned, and the evidence
that Jackson attended ANY of the meetings is paper thin. The evidence that
he did not attend any meetings is pretty convincing to me.)
We need a lawyer here, I guess. The dictionary suggests that the heart of
"conspiracy" is an agreement. I don't think Buck ever agreed to do anything
(except not squeal). Jackson? I guess I think first of his grand jury
description of his meeting with Bill Burns before Game One, when he was
asked about the Fix, and Jackson's response was basically "Huh?" My opinion
is that Jackson knew about the plot to fix the Series, from Lefty. Did he
discuss it with Comiskey, weeks, days, or minutes before the Series? Did he
ask (beg) to be benched before Game One? Did he play every game to win
(Commy thought so)? I guess depending on how you answer these questions,
you will think he was or wasn't in some kind of agreement with Gandil &
Cicotte (et al).
It is plain that books could be written about these issues. In my own book,
I really try not to sway readers -- I try to present all the evidence I
found, as fairly as I can. This is not easy, and I had lots of help (David
Shiner was especially helpful in keeping me balanced). When you focus on
evidence and how to interpret it, you end up able to argue both sides. I
think in this group, I tend to defend people (like Buck) more than attack
them; but I think if necessary, I could be a good prosecutor.
That said, I do have my own opinions. I give them here, much more freely
than I do in my book. I can't wait till the book is out and others have
access to all the stuff in there, from my research. My greatest hope (book
sales aside!) is that the book creates a renewed interest in this "cold
case" and brand new information starts turning up. Or, the 1924 trial
material gets accessible (like the Herrmann papers will, in -- 17 months?)
*****
To shift gears just a minute, think about how we might have a different view
of the plotting and planning that went on in Sept & Oct 1919 -- if we had
certain knowledge that the Sox had agreed, as a team, to toss games in 1917,
maybe with the tacit OK of their manager (Pants Rowland) and their boss,
Commy. A little friendly "sloughing off" for a team they liked ... harmless
fun ... all the teams did it? Of course it was wrong, but if they did it --
then what's the big deal about discussing the ways and means of tossing a
couple mere EXHIBITION games (the Series)? Hey, the contracts were up after
September, they were under no obligation to Commy anymore. (You think I'm
kidding, but that argument came up! And I believe the wording in contracts
changed after Oct 1919, no?) "Tossing the Series" -- why, it was
practically an all-American tradition! (Fullerton thought 1919 was the
4th.) Just tossing another log on the hot stove.