The playing strength of the League teams of 1889 was remarkably even;
that is to say, on paper. Detroit had dropped out and Cleveland had
taken its place in the ranks, four of the old Detroit players going to
Boston, one to Philadelphia, three to Pittsburg, and the balance to
Cleveland. The Boston Club had been the greatest gainer by the deal,
however, and the majority of the "fans" looked for it to carry off the
pennant. Once more the unexpected happened, however, and, though it took
the games of the very last day of the season to settle the standing of
the first six clubs, the pennant finally went to New York for the second
time, they winning 83 games and losing 43, while Boston came next with
the same number of games won and 45 lost, and Chicago stood third with
65 games won and 65 lost, Philadelphia, Pittsburg, Cleveland,
Indianapolis and Washington following in the order named.
The Chicago team of that year consisted of Tener, Dwyer, Hutchinson and
Gumbert, pitchers; Farrell, Darling, Sommers and Flint, catchers;
Pfeffer, Burns, Bastian, Williamson and myself in the infield; and Van
Haltren, Ryan and Duffy, outfielders. I was the manager and captain. It
was not until late in the season that Williamson recovered sufficiently
from the injury that he had received at Paris to join us, and his
absence hurt our chances very materially, as the old "stone wall"
infield was left in a crippled condition.
That fall the Brotherhood Revolt, that robbed the League of many of its
best players, took place, and though the reasons for this have been
variously stated, yet I am of the opinion that it could be all summed up
by the one word, "greed," for that was certainly the corner stone of the
entire structure. It has also been said that the plan of the Brotherhood
was perfected by the ringleaders therein during the around-the-world
trip, and it may be that this is true, but if such was the case the
whole affair was kept remarkably quiet, for it was not until away late
in the season that I was aware of the intended secession of the players,
I then being approached by John M. Ward with a proposal to join them, a
proposal that I declined with thanks, giving as my reason that the
League had always treated me fairly and honestly up to that time, and
that such being the case I could see no reason why I should leave them
in an underhand manner. The truth of the matter is, that I felt bound in
honor to stand by my friends, even if I sank with them, and at that time
the skies did look remarkably dark and it was a question in my mind as
to what would be the outcome. The fact that the majority of the League
clubs had the season before made a great deal of money excited the
cupidity of certain capitalists, and they, finding the players
dissatisfied over some minor grievances, incited them to revolt, hoping
to use them as catspaws with which to pull the financial chestnuts out
of the fire.
The Brotherhood was a secret organization, and one that was originally
formed by the promoters with the object of protecting the ball players
in their rights, and not for the purpose of disrupting the old League
and forming a new one in opposition, as it afterwards attempted to do.
It first made itself felt in the fall of 1887, when it compelled the
League to draw up a new form of contract; in which the rights of the
players were better understood than under the form that had previously
been used. When the new contract was adopted the full amount of each
player's salary could not be written therein, because of the National
Agreement, which contained a $2,000 salary limit clause, and as the
American Association Clubs would not allow this to be stricken out the
players were greatly displeased, they having to sign contracts at
$2,000, and make outside contracts for all compensation over that amount
that they received. Threats as to what the Brotherhood would do were
freely made at that time, but nothing came of them. At the annual
meeting in 1888, the Indianapolis, Pittsburg and Washington Clubs
demanded of the League a scheme that would limit players' salaries,
which had grown to enormous proportions, and the result was that a
classification rule, which divided the players into five classes, as
follows: Class A, to receive $2,500; Class B, $2,250; Class C, $2,000;
Class D, $1,750, and class E, $1,500, it being agreed among the clubs,
however, that this classification should not apply to players with whom
they then had agreements, or to players with whom they should make
agreements, or to whom they felt under moral obligations to do so,
previous to December 15th, 1888, and it was also provided that the
players then absent on the world's trip should be accorded two weeks
after their return in which to arrange matters before they should be
subject to classification.
We were abroad at that time, but the players at home remonstrated
strongly against the classification, claiming that in a few years it
would have a tendency to lower the salaries very materially, but the
absence of John M. Ward, who was the Brotherhood leader, prevented any
official action by the organization. When Mr. Ward reached, home again
contracts had been signed and nothing could be done, though it is now
known that he favored a strike at that time, but was out-voted by the
cooled-headed members of the order. In the meantime the New Yorks had
agreed to release the Brotherhood leader to Washington for the sum of
$12,000, the largest sum ever offered for the release of a player, but
Ward's flat-footed refusal to play in the National Capital team caused
the deal to fall through.
In the meantime the discontented players had appointed a committee to
present their grievances to the League, and President Young appointed a
League committee to hear the players, of which committee A. G. Spalding
was chairman, but when an immediate hearing was asked for by Mr. Ward,
Mr. Spalding declined to meet the Brotherhood players until fall. This,
according to the players' story, was the last straw that broke the
camel's back, and from that time on they began, but with the greatest
secrecy, to arrange their plans for secession.
Having ascertained what was going on in the meantime, I used what
influence I possessed in trying to dissuade such of my players as was
possible from taking what I then regarded as a foolish step, and though
I managed to find some of them that would listen to me there were others
who would not, Pfeffer, Tener and Williamson being among the number,
though they made no move openly looking toward desertion until after the
playing season was over.
On the fourth day of November, 1899, the Brotherhood met at the Fifth
Avenue Hotel and threw off the mask, issuing the following address to
the public:
"At last the Brotherhood of base-ball players feels at liberty to make
known its intentions and defend itself against the aspersions and
misrepresentations which for weeks it has been forced to suffer in
silence. It is no longer a secret that the players of the League have
determined to play next season under different management, but for
reasons which will, we think, be understood, it was deemed advisable to
make no announcement of this intention until the close of the present
season. But now that the struggle for the various pennants is over, and
the terms of our contracts expired, there is no longer reason for
withholding it. In taking this step we feel that we owe it to the public
and to ourselves to explain briefly some of the reasons by which we have
been moved. There was a time when the League stood for integrity and
fair dealing; to-day it stands for dollars and cents. Once it looked to
the elevation of the game and an honest exhibition of the sport. To-day
its eyes are upon the turnstile. Men have come into the business for no
other motive than to exploit it for every dollar in sight. Measures
originally intended for the good of the game have been turned into
instruments for wrong. The reserve rule and the provisions of the
national agreement gave the managers unlimited power, and they have not
hesitated to use this in the most arbitrary and mercenary way.
"Players have been bought, sold and exchanged, as though they were
sheep, instead of American citizens. Reservation became with them
another name for property-rights in the player. By a combination among
themselves, stronger than the strongest trusts, they were able to
enforce the most arbitrary measures, and the player had either to submit
or get out of the profession, in which he had spent years in attaining
proficiency. Even the disbandment and retirement of a club did not free
the players from the octopus clutch, for they were then peddled around
to the highest bidder.
"That the players sometimes profited by the sale has nothing to do with
the case, but only proves the injustice of the previous restraint. Two
years ago we met the League and attempted to remedy some of these evils,
but through what had been called League 'diplomacy' we completely
failed. Unwilling longer to submit to such treatment, we made a strong
effort last spring to reach an understanding with the League. To our
application for a hearing they replied 'that the matter was not of
sufficient importance to warrant a meeting,' and suggested that it be
put off until fall. Our committee replied that the players felt that the
League had broken faith with them; that while the results might be of
little importance to the managers, they were of great importance to the
players; that if the League would not concede what was fair we would
adopt other measures to protect ourselves; that if postponed until fall
we would be separated and at the mercy of the League, and that, as the
only course left us required time and labor to develop, we must
therefore insist upon an immediate conference. Then upon their final
refusal to meet us, we began organizing for ourselves, and are in shape
to go ahead next year under new management and new auspices. We believe
it is possible to conduct our National game upon lines which will not
infringe upon individual and natural rights. We ask to be judged solely
by our work, and believing that the game can be played more fairly and
its business conducted more intelligently under a plan which excludes
everything arbitrary and un-American, we look forward with confidence to
the support of the public and the future of the National game. (Signed)
THE NATIONAL BROTHERHOOD OF BALL PLAYERS."
The Players' League, as finally organized, embraced the cities of
Boston, Brooklyn, New York and Philadelphia, in the East, and Buffalo,
Chicago, Cleveland and Pittsburg in the West. According to the articles
under which this league was formed its government rested in a central
board composed of its president, and two directors, one a player and one
a capitalist from each club.
Any player who was dissatisfied with his location could apply to the
board to be transferred without the payment of anything to the club
losing his services. All contracts were to be made for three years and
no player could be released until after the first year had expired, and
not then if he had kept his agreements and was still able and willing to
play good ball. Severe penalties were provided for drunkenness and
crookedness, and all profits from ground privileges, such as
refreshments, score-cards, cigars, etc., belonged to each individual
club. It was also provided that all players were to have the same
salaries that they had had in 1889, save such as had been cut down by
the classification system, and they were to be paid the same salaries as
in 1888, the same to be increased at the option of the club engaging
them.
This on paper looked to be a great scheme, but what it lacked was
business brains in its management, and as a result its career was a
short and stormy one, it being war to the knife and the knife to the
hilt between the two great rival organizations. After four courts had
decided that the players had a right to leave the National League, each
of the clubs located in the Players' League signed a compact to play
with that organization for ten years. The National League then formed a
schedule of playing dates that conflicted with the Players' League all
through the season of 1890, this action throwing both clubs and public
into confusion, the latter becoming so disgusted over the war of the
rival factions as to stay away from the games altogether. At the end of
the season the Players' League bought the Cincinnati Club, and as the
Pittsburg Club was all but defunct, this left the National League with
but six clubs.
At the close of the championship season a conference was held and plans
agreed upon for ending the war, which had been financially disastrous to
both parties. Committees were appointed by both Leagues and by the
American Association having this end in view, but the Players' League,
at a special meeting added three professional players to its committee,
and the National League refused to join in the conference. Secret
meetings between the capitalists of the Players' League and the National
League were held, with the result that the rival clubs in New York,
Pittsburg and Chicago were consolidated, this causing the disruption of
the Brotherhood.
Looked at from a financial standpoint the contrast between the seasons
of 1889 and 1890 was a great one. The year 1889 was the most successful
that the League had ever known, and the money fairly poured in at the
gate. The year 1890, on the contrary, was one of the most disastrous
that the League had ever known, and on many occasions the clubs found
themselves playing to almost empty benches.
The defection of Tener, Williamson, Ryan, Pfeffer and others left me
with a comparatively green team on my hands, when the season of 1890
opened, but long before the season came to a close constant practice had
made it one of the best teams in the League, as it proved by finishing
in the second place. Few people, however, appreciate the amount of work
that was necessary to attain that result. It was hard work and plenty of
it, and though some of the players objected to the amount of practice
forced upon them, and the strict discipline that was enforced, yet they
had to put up with it, as that was the only manner in which the
necessary playing strength could be developed. I myself worked just as
hard as they did. If we took a three-mile run, I was at their head
setting the pace for them. I have never asked the men under my control
to do anything that I was not willing to do myself, because it was just
as necessary for me to be in good condition as it was for them.
The Chicagos of 1890 were made up as follows: Hutchinson, Luby and
Stein, pitchers; Nagle and Kittridge, catchers; Anson, first base;
Glenalvin, second base; Burns, third base; Cooney, shortstop; Carroll,
left field; Andrews, right field; and O'Brien, Earle and Foster
substitutes.
It will thus be seen that I had but one of the "old reliables" left,
that being Burns, who had refused to affiliate with the Brotherhood, and
who was to receive his reward later on at the hands of the Chicago Club
management. The rest of the team was composed of a lot of half-broken
"colts," many of whom were newcomers in the League, and with a
reputation yet to make, Hutchinson, Cooney and Wilmot being the pick of
the bunch.
There was never a time during this season that we were worse than fifth,
and on several, occasions we were right up in the front rank. When
October arrived we were in the third place, but during the short season
that followed we passed Philadelphia and took second position. Brooklyn
carried off the pennant with a total of 86 games won and 43 lost, while
Chicago had 83 games won and 53 lost, Philadelphia being third with 78
games won and 53 lost, while Cincinnati, Boston, New York, Cleveland and
Pittsburg followed in that order.
This was an achievement to be proud of, and with the downfall of the
Brotherhood and the consolidation of some of the leading clubs I
naturally thought that the Chicago team would be strengthened very
materially, but such was not the case. I did not even get my old players
back, those of them that continued in the profession being scattered far
and wide among the other League clubs, while others retired from the
arena altogether. As a result it was a constant hustle on my part to
secure new players, and I think I may easily say that the hardest years
of my managerial experience were those that followed the revolt of the
Brotherhood, continuing until my retirement from the Chicago Club at the
close of 1897, at which time I was the owner of one hundred and thirty
shares of the club's stock, which from the time of Mr. Hart's connection
with it has been worthless so far as I am concerned, and simply
because...