Starting IX Newsletter: Breaking in the New Year with Doby, Charleston, and Buck O’Neil
For those unfamiliar with the set-up — welcome! Here’s the scoop. [This was a busy week, however, so a few sections got cut.]
Last week we laid out a tweaked format, focusing on Negro League legends, which we’ll continue to do each of the next four newsletters until the newsletter on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Let’s get to it!
“One Final Imagination of the Baseball Hall of Fame” Pre-excerpts: True American Heroes
In my first book, I can sadly say that I gave short shrift to the Negro Leagues. The premise of the book was to look at the best player at each position in each MLB franchise’s history, but I left out a whole portion of baseball history, and baseball franchises who have long been loved by many by not given the spotlight by others. I was part of that. I ended up with only a cursory glance at a dozen or so of the best players in Starting IX, but I do think we can all learn over time, and my second book lent itself to including the stories of many more of the men and women who made the Negro Leagues such a remarkable league. Here are a few of those people:
Larry Doby
Doby was such a remarkable man, that he even managed to cull something positive out of Donald Trump, who awarded Doby with a Congressional Gold Medal in December of 2018. Doby, as hopefully many now know, was the Jackie Robinson of the American League, making his MLB debut for Cleveland just three months after Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier for the Dodgers in the National League. The American League was the far slower league to integrate, thus making Doby’s path even bumpier than Robinson’s at times. But Doby and Robinson should not be used as simply foils to each other — there is plenty of room to be awed and amazed by what both did in their own right. As such, here are some hopefully more under the radar and fun nuggets about Doby that you might not have previously known:
- Doby’s father was also a ballplayer for a time, but he passed away when Larry was just eight years old.
- During his high school days, Larry Doby played in the Negro Leagues for the Newark Eagles under the pseudonym Larry Walker.
- Doby served his country for two years during WWII, serving in the Pacific Theater of World War II, as well as numerous Navy sites along the west coast.
- Doby had to go to the opposing clubhouse to get a glove during one of his first games because his own teammates would not acknowledge him.
- Similar to Minnie Minoso a few years later, Doby was often among the league leaders in hit-by-pitches, due in large part to his race. He was occasionally involved in on-field fights that stemmed out of these racial animosities.
- In his immediate post-MLB days, he became one of the first American ballplayers to make the journey to Japan to play in the Nippon Professional Baseball league.
- In addition to being the second to break baseball’s color line as a player, he was the second to break baseball’s color line as a manager, taking over the White Sox in 1978.
Even in this modern semi-renaissance for Doby, he is a man whose full impact on the sport is often overlooked or downplayed. We need to collectively do better.
Dan Bankhead: The first Black pitcher to pitch in Major League Baseball, his career was cut short when he struggled with command. However, these were no ordinary Oliver Perez-style struggles with command. Bankhead feared that he’d hit a batter and that a riot would ensue. Bankhead was only 24 when he was signed by Rickey to join the Dodgers minor league system, so there isn’t tons and tons of information on this career cut short, but he was a known threat on both sides of the diamond, and in a fair universe could’ve easily been in that other Baseball Hall of Fame. As is, the burden he took on more than accounts for his deserved spot on this floor.
Buck O’Neil: First things first, go put down this book, pick up Joe Posnanski’s “The Soul of Baseball: A Road Trip Through Buck O’Neil’s America” and read it cover-to-cover because it tells a far more complete story of one of the truly greatest men ever associated with the sport than the next couple paragraphs could ever hope to do.
Posnanski (another great baseball man, but one who would be wildly uncomfortable being compared to Buck in even the slightest) has written numerous pieces about Buck — a man with whom he clearly shared an incredible relationship — the most touching of which was O’Neill’s obituary in 2006, a piece that Posnanski called the most emotional piece he ever wrote. All of Posnanski’s writing on Buck, but most notably the obit, paint the picture of a man whose joie de baseball was matched only by his joie de vivre, writ large. He was a man who was not allowed to attend the local high school because he was black, but went on to, without a doubt, a far more fulfilling life than each and every one of those who did attend Sarasota High. In his words: “he hit the home run, he hit for the cycle, he traveled the world, he testified before Congress, he sang at the Baseball Hall of Fame, he made a hole-in-one in golf, he married the woman he loved, he shook hands with American presidents.” Some of those items clearly stand out more than others to us readers, but it was just that love of the little things that made Buck the man he was. For instance, that cycle. Sure, it seems like a cool achievement, but is it really on par with shaking hands with the president? Well, with Buck, there’s always a little more to the story — from the very end of Posnanski’s obit:
“But even though it’s late at night and I can hardly see the keyboard because of the tears, I know Buck would not have wanted any of us to cry. So, instead, I will relive once more his greatest day. I heard him tell it a hundred times. It was Easter Sunday, 1943, Memphis, Tenn. The Monarchs were playing the Memphis Red Sox. First time up, Buck hit a double. Second time, he hit a single. Third time, he hit it over the right-field fence. Fourth time up, he hit the ball to left field, it bounced off the wall, and Buck rounded the bases. He could have had an inside-the-park home run, but he stopped at third.
‘You know why?’ he always asked.
‘You wanted the cycle,’ I always said.
That night, he was in his room when a friend called him down to meet some schoolteachers who were in the hotel. Buck went down, saw a pretty young woman, and walked right up to her and said, ‘My name is Buck O’Neil. What’s yours?’ It was Ora. They would be married for 51 years.
‘That was my best day,’ he said. ‘I hit for the cycle and I met my Ora.’
‘It was a good day,’ I said.
‘It’s been a good life,’ he said.”
There’s a lot that can be said about Buck and his outsize role in making sure the Negro Leagues still hold the place they do in our collective memory, but nothing sums up the man better than his best day.
[If it’s not already a little dusty wherever you’re reading this, make sure to go check out Buck’s Hall of Fame acceptance speech as well.]
Effa Manley: Buckle up. In late 2014, it was reported that the vastly underappreciated Penny Marshall (Big, A League of Their Own) was set to direct a biopic centered around 1930s-50s Negro Leagues owner, Effa Manley. Now the film never came to be, but let me tell you, if it had, I would’ve just forward my bank account information to Marshall on the day it came out: Take my money!
Manley was born in Philadelphia in 1897, to mysterious origins. Effa was raised by her white mother and black stepfather, and although her biological father may have in fact been white as well (this is where the mystery comes in), Effa often identified as black. Again, this was in the early 1900s, not exactly a booming time to pass as black. Of course, in this country — and worldwide — that is obviously still the case, but it was even more so the case in the era in which Manley was raised. Now, Manley would bend the societal norms of the time, passing as both black and white, and doing so to her extreme advantage. While Rachel Dolezal can tell you that won’t fly in modern times (and in all honesty, it may have been a bit problematic even in Manley’s era), it seems a bit less conniving and a bit more bold and brave to do so in the 1930s, etc. especially given that she most often identified as black, using her ability to pass only when society unfortunately demanded it.
Manley was a preeminent social activist of her time, organizing boycotts of Harlem stores that refused to hire black employees and acting as the Treasurer of the NAACP chapter in Newark. It was in Newark that she also had her ties to baseball. The lone female owner in the Negro Leagues, her and her husband, Abe, owned the Newark Eagles, where she used this platform for even more good. She convinced Mayor LaGuardia to attend and throw out a first pitch; held an “Anti-Lynching Day”; and, supposedly, provided the team with an air-conditioned charter bus, the first of its kind for a Negro League team. She and Abe were beloved by their players. They were perpetually acting as the George Baileys of the league, helping players buy homes, serving as godparents, and constantly promoting both the players and the league in the public eye.
She was the first-ever woman elected to the OBHOF (in 2006…angry shudder), and it was a deserving honor, as she stands as one of the titans of the sport, albeit one with an incredibly unique — and maybe especially strange to 2021 eyes — story.
Moses Fleetwood Walker: Carl Tart was a Certified American Hero even before his description of Walker on Drunk History (for his Comedy Bang Bang and Brooklyn Nine-Nine contributions among other achievements), but the segment only helped to cement his status on Mount Rushmore 2.0. In fact, stop reading this, go watch the full episode linked below, and watch it all. Shouts to Katie Nolan for a pretty solid telling of the Black Sox Scandal, too.
Cristobal Torriente: While “The Black Babe Ruth” may be a bit dismissive as a nickname, but it’s also rather impressive. In a 1920 exhibition series in which the two faced off, Torriente’s team won, and Cristobal outhomered the Bambino. This seems like a very good place to reiterate that in all likelihood the best players in the Negro League were as good as, if not better, than the best players in Major League Baseball at the same time. If you are one of those who considers Babe Ruth, Honus Wagner, and Ty Cobb to be in his/her top 10 all-time, you better make some room for Josh Gibson, Satchel Paige, Torriente, and the like, as well.
[And yes, I say this as a man who literally had a top 10 in his last book that included Ruth, Cobb, and Wagner, but not Gibson or Paige, but to quote the effervescent Stubb from Moby Dick, “I’ve part changed my skin since that time, why not my mind?”]
“Starting IX” Excerpt: Another potential G.O.A.T.?
As noted earlier, there wasn’t enough emphasis on Negro Leagues history in my first book, but there was some, mostly the all-time best of the best. So, here’s an excerpt from “Starting IX” on Oscar Charleston, yet another Negro Leagues player who deserves to be in the conversation for Greatest Of All Time. We’ll also touch on a pair of lesser known but still impressive Negro League stars. Please note this was written several years ago before much of the excellent research that has been done and continues to be done regarding Negro League statistics.
Oscar Charleston
Charleston’s historical MLB comparisons tend to be: Ty Cobb for his ability to hit for average and Tris Speaker for his ability to cover so much ground in the outfield — pretty incredible. Here’s the kicker: Charleston was also a power hitter. In one scrimmage — against a St. Louis Cardinals team that had finished 20 games over .500 and had Rogers Hornsby — Charleston stole the show, hitting four home runs in the game, two of which came off Cardinals Team Hall of Famer, Jesse Haines. Right fielder Dave Malarcher, who played next to Charleston, said all he did was catch foul balls because Oscar’s range was so unlimited in the outfield.
Rube Foster: Foster was a solid player, but most of his lore comes from his ability to promote the Negro League, a league in desperate need of promotion. As is the case with much of the history of the Negro Leagues has long been, the history of just how much Rube did seems a bit blurry, but he acted in many ways as the league’s “Czar,” helping to run just about everything under the league’s umbrella. [Hopefully that picture gets even clearer with the recent announcement.]
Joe Williams: Reportedly once struck out 27 batters in a 12-inning game. The game was played in the dark and Williams was 44 years old. Of course, this shouldn’t be surprising given that he reportedly had at least a dozen 20-strikeout games in his career.
Who Is This Player?
Answer at the end of the newsletter (I’m debating formats here, so feedback on how easy/difficult this section is would be appreciated)
Keep You On Your Toes
If you spend any amount of time on Medium, which seems possible if you’re reading this, there’s a decent chance you already came across MacKenzie Scott’s ‘384 Ways to Help’ article from this December, but on the off-chance you have not, and hopefully are still in the giving spirit: It is a MUST-READ (and act upon).
Quiz Answer
I’m a pretty big “Trout as best centerfielder of all time” guy, but this, guy: Oscar Charleston has the best case outside of Trout (and maybe Willie Mays, I guess), in my eyes.
Remember to follow along here on Medium for the first few months before I move to the actual email newsletter format.
Feel free to reach out to Jim.Turvey21@gmail.com for any feedback or inquiries.
