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Baseball in Old Chicago, page 3 of 3

By Patrick Mondout
March 25, 2008

This month's BaseballChronology Book of the Month is on the history of baseball in Chicago in the 19th Century. You are on page 3 of 3 of Baseball in Old Chicago. Click here to go back to the first page.

Baseball in Old Chicago continued...

The first code of rules on record was prepared by the Knickerbocker Club of New York in 1845 comprising only fourteen brief sections. One of the most interesting was the method of scoring. Games continued, regardless of the number of innings, until one team made 21 aces, or runs, provided that both teams had played the same number of innings.

Under the first rules, and for many years thereafter, the pitcher was required to pitch, not throw, the ball. This meant that an underhand motion had to be used. The Knickerbocker rules also provided that a batted ball caught either on the fly or on the first bounce was an out.

Except for these provisions, the original baseball rules were essentially the same as those of today. However, the rules were too simple to cover every possible play, and changes were soon necessary.

Early Changes in Rules  In 1857, the nine-inning plan was adopted, with the provision that, if necessary, five innings would constitute a legal game.

There was no called-ball penalty in the early rules, and the pitcher was allowed to waste as many pitches as he wished. Conversely, the batter had the privilege of swinging only at pitches that were to his liking, but was not allowed to delay the game or help a baserunner by failing to offer at good balls, a stipulation that must have worked many heated arguments.

Rules of 1863
At the National Association of Base Ball Players convention in 1863, a general revision of the rules was made. Among other changes, the pitcher's "base point" and home base were required to be marked with iron plates. The "out on the first bound" rule was retained, but a year later another revision eliminated the bound catch on fair flies, retaining it on fouls.

Up to this time the pitcher had been allowed to take a short run in delivering the ball, so long as he did not overstep a line 45 feet from the home plate. The rules of 1863 required him to stand still and keep inside his box.

The most important change was the introduction of called balls and strikes, but the rule on balls was not clear. It stated that if the pitcher failed to get the ball over the plate in a reasonable number of tries the umpire was to warn him, and then begin to call balls on the wide pitches, three of which entitled the batter to take his base. From this it would appear that the batter might have to take four or five wild pitches before getting a pass.

Further Changes in Rules
In 1867, the batter was given the privilege of calling for either a high or a low pitch. This rule was kept in the code for twenty years, in spite of its great disadvantage to pitchers.

The most curious provision of the rules adopted by the National Association in 1872 had to do with called balls. If the umpire called a pitch a ball, and the batter struck at it and hit it, he could not be put out. In other words, if the batter reached for a wide one and tapped out a pop fly to a fielder, he was not out, if, in the umpire's judgment, the pitch was a ball. No wonder batting averages grew fat in the 1870's!

Gradually the number of called balls was reduced. In 1880, it was pared down to eight, and in 1881 to seven. In 1884 it was cut to six; in 1885 raised again to seven; and back to six in 1886. For the season of 1887 it was reduced to five, and finally, in 1889, the number was fixed at four, where it has remained ever since.

Rules on Strikes
From the very beginning the familiar "three strikes and out" has been the rule of baseball — with one exception. In 1887, the number was increased to four, only to be promptly put back to three again the next year.

However, what is a strike? The umpire is often unjustly accused of not knowing, but for many years the framers of rules were not quite sure themselves. As has already been seen, in 1863, the umpire was given the power to call strikes. But, as batting grew more scientific, the hitters learned to foul off pitches that might otherwise have been called against them. No attempt to curb this practice was made until 1887, at which time an obviously planned foul was penalized as a strike, but this rule caused such violent arguments that it was soon discarded. In 1894, bunted fouls and foul tips that were caught were counted as strike. Not until 1901 was the present rule adopted, making any foul a strike, until the batter has two strikes on him, after which he may foul off as long as he is able.

Pitching Rules a Problem
No other department of the game has undergone so much change as pitching. Where and how the pitcher should stand — or move — and what sort of arm motion he should use in delivering the ball were knotty problems until the present-day regulations came into effect.

The earliest rules placed only two restrictions on the pitcher; to use an underhand motion, and not to overstep a boundary line forty-five feet from the plate.

In 1858, the pitcher stood behind a twelve-foot line, forty-five feet from home plate, but, within those limits, could move about as he pleased. By 1863, he had to stand still inside a box twelve feet long and four feet wide. In 1872, the box was a six-foot square, with its front line forty-five feet from home plate. The square was marked by iron corners, and the center line marked by iron plates, or quoits, called pitcher's "points." From the founding of the National League in 1876 until 1881, the pitcher's box was six feet by four.

Throw Finally Legalized
Gradually, with the introduction of the curve ball, pitchers began to get away from the underhand motion, but not until 1883 was this fully legalized. In that year the pitcher was allowed, for the first a sidearm throw, provided he did not raise his arm above the shoulder.

Pitchers were inclined to deliver their throws with a skip or jump that carried them out of their box. To prevent this, a large marble slab was placed in front of the box. Many players were injured from slipping on the marble, however, others craftily took to wearing rubber-soled shoes, and finally the slab was abandoned in favor of the more sensible plan of penalizing the pitcher for overstepping.

In 1884, all restrictions on arm motion were removed, but the pitcher could take only one step in making the throw. In 1887, he was no longer required to pitch high or low as the batter demanded, and thus the rules governing pitching became practically the same as those of today.

How Pitchers Became "Slabmen"
 Baseball writers sometimes refer to pitchers as "slab artists" and "moundsmen." In 1893, a small marble slab was adopted, against which the pitcher had to keep one foot while delivering the ball. (This slab should not be confused with the tombstone sized slab of 1883.) The pitcher's plate was first a small rectangle, twelve by six inches,* later increased to its present size of twenty-four by six inches.

^•The pitcher's plate is now made of rubber.

The expression "on the mound" is derived from the fact that for many years it has been customary to elevate the pitcher's position slightly above the rest of the infield, although this was not provided for in the official rules until a rather late date.

Pitching Distance Changes
The distance from the pitcher's box to home plate remained at forty-five feet until 1881, when it was lengthened to fifty feet. This was again changed with the adoption of a pitcher's plate in place of the box, and permanently fixed at sixty feet six inches.

In 1874, a few teams experimented with a tenth player on the field, in a position designated as right short-stop. He played where the second baseman usually does, making the second baseman a sort of roving short-center fielder. The Chicago White Stockings played a game with the Atlantics on July 29, 1874, using a tenth man, and the experiment was termed a success, but the idea failed to win general favor.

The changes in size and composition of the official baseball have been many, but of no great interest. It has always been a hard, leather-covered sphere, and size variations have not been great. As noted elsewhere in this book, livelier baseballs were used more in some years than in others; the modern ball is slightly more resilient than any of the old ones.

Until 1872, a bat could be any length, but since that time forty-two inches has been the limit. Its greatest thickness was then fixed at two and one-half inches, and later increased a quarter of an inch. An effort was once made to popularize a square bat, and at one time it was permissible to have one side flattened for bunting, but with these exceptions the bat has always been round and tapering.

What the Rules Have Done
To give a complete account of all the rule changes and developments would be far beyond the scope of this work. Nearly every year saw the adoption of new rules or revisions. Yet the majority of these changes did not touch the fundamental playing conditions of baseball. They were directed rather toward the refinement and perfection of the existing sport.

With some blunders along the way, this aim has been accomplished. Few games have as complicated a system of rules as baseball, yet its intrinsic elements are easily understood by anyone. No important rule changes have been made in the past thirty years, and none seems desirable — a high tribute to the men who devoted their lives toward perfecting the national game.

The most one-sided contest in professional baseball occurred on June 18, 1874 when Chicago was defeated 38 to 1, by the Brooklyn Mutuals.

The largest number of runs in a single inning was made by the White Stockings in a game with Detroit, September 6, 1883. In the seventh inning Chicago made 18 hits and 18 runs.

The White Stockings, on June 29, 1897, defeated Louisville, by a score of 36 to 7, a record for baseball played under modern conditions.

In 1896, Lange of Chicago led the National League in base stealing with 100 stolen bases. He led the league again in 1897, with 83 thefts.

John Luby, White Stockings pitcher, won seventeen consecutive victories in 1890.

James McCormick of Chicago won sixteen straight in 1886. As the pitcher was then required to throw high or low as the batter demanded, this record merits comparison with longer strings of consecutive victories. Luby's record was made after this restriction was abolished. (Luby was generally credited with winning 20 straight games until the publication of Richter's History and Records of Baseball in 1914. The best record under modern conditions was made by Rube Marquard of the New York Giants, who won 19 straight in 1912. The best record under the high or low ball rule was made by Charles Radbourn of the Providence National League club in 1884, who won 18 in a row.)

John Clarkson, greatest of old-time Chicago pitchers, made his best record after leaving the Chicago club. In 1889, he pitched 72 games for Boston, winning 46. The most remarkable thing about such old-time records is that until the 1890's there were usually not more than two, at most three, pitchers on a team, and the best pitcher worked more than half the games. Today a ball-tosser feels overworked if asked to pitch more than twice a week.

Although he was not a Chicago player when he performed his feat, Paul Hines deserves mention as the first player to make a triple play unassisted. He made this sensational put-out of three men in 1879, while playing with the Providence, R. I., club. Hines was a fielder with the Chicago White Stockings from 1874 to 1877. For the benefit of fans who have never seen any sort of triple play, here is how Hines did it: With runners on second and third, a short fly was hit to center. Believing the fly could not be caught, the man on base began to run for third and home. Hines, playing center field, came in on a dead run, making a remarkable catch as he came. Then, without pausing, he tagged second base, and ran on to third and tagged there before either runner could get back.

A struggling few got up to go in deep despair, the rest
Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Casey could but get a whack, at that,
They'd put up even money now — with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a pudding and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and they saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe on second, and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from the gladdened multitude went up a joyous yell,
It bounded from the mountain-top, and rattled in the dell;
It struck upon the hillside, and recoiled upon the flat;
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face;
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt,
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there;
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped,
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shown;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed;
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain.
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.

[[BaseballChronology note: You might want to read Grantland Rice's reply, Casey's Revenge.]]

(Back cover)

 
[[BaseballChronology note: This is the end of Baseball in Old Chicago. We hope you enjoyed this month's book!]]