We Gather Here to Honor a Great Philadelphian

 

Governments often pass proclamations honoring important people such as distinguished visitors, philanthropists, hero citizens, police. Philadelphia City Council seems to the first city ever to pass a resolution to honor a silly costume.

The costume has a name: Gritty. It’s the mascot of the Philadelphia Flyers and since Gritty was born last September, it has been mocked and remarked upon endlessly.

The resolution, prepared by Councilperson, Helen Gym, tells the story of Gritty with such charm and wit, that we have decided to print it in its entirety.

 A RESOLUTION 

Welcoming Gritty, the new mascot of the Philadelphia Flyers, and honoring the spirit and passion that Gritty has brought to the City of Philadelphia and to the entire country, both on and off the ice.

WHEREAS, Gritty was introduced to an unprepared world as the Philadelphia Flyers’ new mascot on September 24, 2018, but his true age and origins remain cloaked in obscurity. His official bio merely notes that it was recent construction at the arena that disturbed his secret hideout and forced him to show his face publicly for the first time; and

WHEREAS, Gritty has been described as a 7-foot tall orange hellion, a fuzzy eldritch horror, a ghastly empty-eyed Muppet with a Delco beard, a cross of Snuffleupagus and Oscar the Grouch, a deranged orange lunatic, an acid trip of a mascot, a shaggy orange Wookiee-esque grotesquerie, a non-binary leftist icon, an orange menace, a raging id, and an antihero. He has been characterized as huggable but also potentially insurrectionary, ridiculous, horrifying, unsettling, and absurd; and

WHEREAS, The television host John Oliver opened one of his eponymous HBO shows by stating he would have preferred to spend the entire show on Gritty and now uses him as a symbol of something “hostile, consistently unsettling, temperamentally unpleasant and that screams who the [...] allowed this to happen”; and

WHEREAS, When Gritty floated from the rafters of the Wells Fargo Center to the tune of Miley Cyrus’ “Wrecking Ball” on October 9, 2018, he also floated into our hearts and minds, weaving his googly-eyed stare, maniacal smile, and passion for hockey and hot dogs into our deep subconscious; and

WHEREAS, Gritty’s storied arrival into Philadelphia was met with all the expected magnanimity of a city with a reputation for colorful and ardent fans and a creative, if skeptical, media, but as soon as Philadelphians realized non-Philadelphians were also mocking Gritty, we rose immediately to his defense and irrevocably claimed him as our own; and

WHEREAS, Philadelphians have already demonstrated their creative, if occasionally jarring, love for Gritty by putting his inimitable face on protest signs, tip jars, wedding cakes, and tattoos; and

WHEREAS, At the same time that Gritty brings people together, the divisions in our current political and cultural life have rendered Gritty contested territory. Gritty has been widely declared antifa, and was subject to attempted reclamation in the editorial pages of the Wall Street Journal. It has been argued that he “conveys the absurdity and struggle of modern life under capitalism” and that he represents a source of joyful comic respite in a time of societal upheaval; and

WHEREAS, A man who inked Gritty’s face onto his leg captured the feelings of countless Philadelphians: “At first, I was disgusted. I was like, what the hell is this? Why did you do this? Why is this a thing? It was like an hour after that I fell in love with him”; and

WHEREAS, Gritty’s National Hockey League debut, featuring a bottoms-up fall onto the ice, is a metaphor for the vulnerability that each of us face as we, too, skate onto the slippery ice that is life; and

WHEREAS, When the Pittsburgh Penguin took to social media and mocked Gritty for his appearance, Gritty responded, “Sleep with one eye open tonight, bird.” Gritty, like our steadfast\ commitment to justice in the face of adversity, will not be mocked or stopped; and

WHEREAS, As there is a small part of every Philadelphian embedded in the soul of Gritty, he is never alone. Gritty joins a renowned cadre of Philadelphia sports mascot colleagues that will teach him how to keep the spirits of Philadelphia sports fans high despite our inevitable misery. Together, the Phanatic, Franklin the Dog, Swoop, and now Gritty will remind us that even in the face of defeat, Philadelphia is Philadelphia because of the brotherly love, sisterly affection, and monsterly spirit that binds us together in confronting anyone who dares to speak critically of our beloved city; and

WHEREAS, While the initial reaction to Gritty’s entry into the public eye was negative, he has persevered and become an icon of hope and resistance. As Flyers COO Shawn Tilger explained after Gritty’s unveiling, “Seeing the strong positive reaction of 600 excited young students...we know we did the right thing”; and

WHEREAS, Gritty may be a hideous monster, but he is our hideous monster; now, therefore, be it

RESOLVED, That the Council of the City of Philadelphia welcomes Gritty, the new mascot of the Philadelphia Flyers, and honors the spirit and passion that Gritty has brought to the City of Philadelphia and to the entire country, both on and off the ice.

Helen Gym
Councilmember At Large
October 25, 2018

Trying to Score a Touchdown in the Violin Section

That two Ivy League football teams could play to a no-score 0-0 tie is unusual.
Even more unusual was the place where the game was played: the Academy of Music. 

The contest between Princeton and the University of Pennsylvania in 1889 might have been the first indoor football contest in America.

Of course, the grand old Academy was built for opera, ballet, concerts and lectures, but some surprising events also took place. There were no more football games but there was a track meet that same year. After the track meet, the audience was treated to a wrestling match and boxing demonstration.

So how can you play a football game or run sprits and jump hurdles in a concert hall?

The answer lies in the main floor called the parquet. Apparently high supports or trestles were placed around the seats and a temporary floor put on top of the supports creating a flat floor level with the stage.

All this effort was not for sports. Many high-society balls were held at the Academy. So the raised floor was for the waltzes and fox trots.

Even more odd than football and track was a fire prevention measure. We quote from John Francis Marion’s book on the Academy:
“When the parquet was floored over, and smoking allowed, the Academy employed a corps of tiny people who scurried around beneath the flooring, picking up matches, cigars and cigarettes that had fallen between the sections of the flooring.”

Before TV There Was Rooftop Viewing in Philly

The Best Seat On The House?

Philadelphians – Americans generally – are entrepreneurial and can be amazingly creative when it comes to making an extra buck.

So, imagine the owners of North Philly rowhouses who charged admission to enter their bathrooms and then climb a ladder to the roof to watch baseball.

The rooftop bleacher on 20th and Somerset streets across from Shibe Park (later renamed Connie Mack Stadium) provided a birds-eye view of the baseball diamond, thanks to a right field wall only 12-feet high. One could watch a Philadelphia Athletes game either from second floor windows or rooftops.

Soon after the stadium opened in 1909, home owners had invested in bleachers and were charging admission to sit on their roofs.

When the As were playing for a league championship or for World Series games, every ballpark seat was sold, so fans paid high prices for rooftop viewing.

Remember, there was no television.

Even some cops on the street sold tickets to the rooftop bleachers and were paid a commission. Kids sold bags of peanuts on the roofs. Women often sold hot dogs.

Movie news reel companies – Pathe, Universal and Fox Movietone – paid to place cameras and crews on the rooftops.

For a World Series game. an estimated 3,000 cheering fans were sitting across the street on the rooftops or peering out of second-story windows.

Was it legal? Well, there were visits from fire officials, License and Inspections inspectors, amusement tax collectors, but the rooftop seating was never shut down.

Finally, in 1934, the Shibe family and Connie Mack put an end to the neighbors' lucrative practice by simply building the right field fence high enough to block rooftop viewing.

Furious homeowners called it “the Spite Fence.” It was made of tin, and players called it “the Great Tin Monster.” Balls striking the fence took odd bounces.

The neighbors went to court claiming the Spite Fence blocked the sun and lowered the value of their houses. The Shibes hired a young lawyer, Richardson Dilworth. He won the case and was later elected district attorney and mayor.

So, in the land of free enterprise, homeowners can charge people to sit on their roofs and stadium owners can build high fences.

A Near-Sighted Approach To Football

The Near-Sighted Longstreth

The Princeton football player was in the clear. The pass to him was perfect – a sure touchdown.

Only one problem, 
W. Thacher Longstreth was practically blind without his glasses. 

“The pass not only hit me in the helmet, the ball bounced straight up in the air, so all I had to do was look up and catch it as it came down – which of course I didn’t do,” Longstreth writes in his enjoyable autobiography, Main Line Wasp.

The Princeton fans were booing and shaking their fists and the coach took Thacher out of the game. He recalls it as “perhaps the most horrible moment of my life up to that point.”

Another time the badly near-sighted Longstreth was sent into the game. He could make out two men, so he ran between them. They were the linesmen holding 10 yards of chain between them. Longstreth tripped on the chain, taking one of the hardest falls imaginable .

“I had to be carried off the field on a stretcher before I’d even been on the field.”

The likeable Republican,who would run for Philadelphia mayor twice, was actually an excellent football player in some respects. He was an end on the starting team and played both offense and defense when Princeton was in the national top 10 football colleges in the late 1930s.

He was fast and a good tackler. He was tall 6-foot-6, so if the ball was lobbed to him within a few feet of scrimmage, he could see it, reach up and catch it.

The coach discovered that Thacher had a great throwing arm. He could toss the football 80 yards. Of course, he couldn’t see that far down field

Princeton developed “a mystery play” but used it only once. Longstreth threw a “straight arrow pass” 80 yards. But the player who was supposed to be downfield to catch it had fallen at the line of scrimmage. “So there was no one within 50 yards of my beautiful pass.”

He writes that he was the first football player in America to wear contact lenses. He says they helped but he always had to remove them because a bubble would develop between has eyes and the lens.

Although married and expecting his first child, Longstreth was determined to service in World War II. The Army gave him an eye test and told him “forget it.”

He devised a devious plot and passed the Navy eye-test by secretly using the contact lens. He served with distinction, mostly aboard aircraft carriers.

He Made Money Rubbing Balls

His name was mud.

Actually his name was Russell “Lena” Blackburne.  So, mud wasn’t his real name but mud was his game.

Everyone called him Lena. He was an old-time big league baseball player, coach and manager.  He played in 539 games for five teams, including the Chicago White Sox.  His longest association as player and later coach was with Connie Mack’s Philadelphia Athletics.

Born in Philadelphia in 1885, Blackburne died at age 81 at his home in Palmyra, N.J. He was the third base coach for the Philadelphia Athletics in 1938 when his name forever became synonymous with mud.

A baseball rule required umpires to rub new baseballs with something – usual dirt – to take the shine off the leather cover and therefore make it less slippery for the pitcher.  However,  dirt discolored and often scratched the leather.

Something inspired Blackborne to collect mud from either a stream or the Delaware River near Palmyra.  He said It had the consistence of chocolate pudding and proved ideal for rubbing baseballs.

Collecting and selling “Lena Blackborne’s Rubbing Mud" became a sideline business.  The entire American League started buying  Lena’s miracle mud. Both leagues and the minor leagues soon adopted it as standard.

Lena always kept secret the exact area where he mined the mud, sharing it only with one close friend.  He died in 1968 and the mud business has stayed in the friend’s family ever since.

Lena Blackborne’s Rubbing Mud Company has a nice website. It claims to still sell its product to all the professional and semi-pro teams. Containers of the mud sell for $25 to $100.  The large size should last a season. 

We guess that, if the TV show Shark Tank was around in 1938 and Lena appeared asking for a loan to start a mud business, he would be laughed off the show.

Meet The Steagles

They were bitter rivals.

The coaches didn’t like each other. The players on both teams were military rejects afflicted with flatfeet, bad hearing, blindness in one eye or weak knees.

​The year was 1943. The Second World War was raging, but President Roosevelt thought the continuation of professional sports was good for home-front morale.

​The problem for most NFL football teams was a lack of players. Everyone was off fighting. Wikipedia claims that 600 NFL players served in the military during the war years.

​Both the Eagles and their cross-state rival, Pittsburgh, were low on players. With only six-contract players, the Steelers were in really bad shape.​

The owners came up with an unusual plan.
Let’s merge the Steelers and Eagles for the season into one team.

They would be called Phil-Pitt team. 

Soon sports writers and everyone else called them The Steagles.

​The leading receiver for the mixed team was Steeler Tony Bova. The Army rejected him because he was blind in one eye and the good eye was not so great.

​Eagles center Ray Graves was deaf in one ear and tailback John Butler had poor eyesight and a bad knee. When the season started there were 25 Steagles.

​You might think the NFL could open up team rosters to black players, but the whole league was whites only and stayed that way.

​There were some Steagles who were fit and really good. 

Port Richmond’s Bucko Kilroy would play for the Eagles for many years and became an All-Pro guard. Quarterback Allie Sherman would have an outstanding football career as a player, head coach, executive and sports commentator.

​While the players got used to working as a team, having two head coaches was always a problem. The Eagles’ Alfred “Greasy” Neale and the Steeler’s Walt Kieserling hardly spoke to each other.

​Attendance at home games was good. For the final game against Green Bay, 35,000 fans watched the Steagles lose a close contest. The season ended for the Steagles at 5-4-1.

​The next season, 1944, the draft laws eased up and the Eagles had a enough manpower to bid adieu to Pittsburgh. The poor Steelers had to merge with the Chicago Cardinals in ’44. The Card-Pitts lost every game and got the nickname The Carpets.

​Apparently, there is enough interest in a team that played one season 74 years ago, that you can go on-line and purchase a full-line of Steagles’ gear.

​Baseball had the same shortage of players. The Phillies had some teenage players, too young for the draft.

You Got No Tips from NBA Mogul Eddie Gottlieb

Eddie Gottlieb in suit with early Warriors team

We intend to write more about Mister Basketball Eddie “the Mogul” Gottlieb. 
For now, we’ll relate a tale of Eddie’s reputation as a tightwad.

The Mogul was a founder of the National Basketball Association (NBA) and owner-coach of the NBA Philadelphia Warriors.

In 1952 Gottlieb recruited Temple student and All-American standout basketball player Bill Mkvy, called “the Owl without a Vowel.” Mkvy was in class when a Temple dean arrived and said Gottlieb wanted to see him at his Center City office.

Excited, Mkvy and his future wife rushed to Gottlieb’s Chestnut Street office with dreams of big bucks in professional basketball.

Mkvy later recalled the stairs and Gotty’s office were cluttered with boxes. The college star was given a paper to sign. The new Warrior obeyed and asked what he had just signed.

“Don’t worry kid, You’re going to be rich,” declared the Mogul. “You just signed for $1,200.”

Rich? Even cab drivers or garbage men were making $3,000 a year in the early 1950s.

Next, Gottlieb offered to take the new rookie and his girl friend to lunch.

Mkvy was thinking they would dine at some fancy Center City restaurant like Lew Tendler’s at Broad and Locust. Gotty led the couple to a nearby White Tower where he ordered three hamburgers and three Cokes. “The whole bill came to 95 cents,” Mkvy recalled.

“Gotty got a nickel change. He picked it up and put it in his pocket. No tip. And that was my signing bonus. My entrée into the NBA,” Mkvy told an interviewer.

Philly Phanatic's Wayward Wiener

It was the hot dog heard ‘round the world.

Fired by a cannon-like “hot dog launcher” by slime-green mascot The Philly Phanatic, it hit one poor woman smack in the kisser giving her a shiner and requiring a hospital check-up.

This sad, silly and unique event was covered by news media across the country and abroad.

”The Phillie Phanatic Almost Shot Someone’s Eye Out.” read one headline.

The victim, Kathy McVey of Plymouth Meeting, told the press, “It hit me like a ton of bricks. . . .Be aware; you never know. I can understand a baseball but not a hot dog.”

Actually, McVey took the incident with good humor and is not upset.

We feel the flying hot dog that walloped a Phillies fan will become a new Philadelphia sports meme like the old image of Santa Clause getting peppered with snowballs at an Eagles game 50 years ago.

Webster says a meme is “an idea, behavior or style that spread from person-to-person within a culture"

Philadelphia sports fans have a reputation as crude, lewd, hostile – sometimes violent knuckle-heads.

Philadelphia sports memes include a judge and courtroom at the Eagle’s games, physically attacking fans of opposing teams and cheering when an opposing player is injured.

Now the flying hot dog meme, which, at least, has a humorous side. Late night host, Stephen Colbert, did a funny monologue on the incident that has been up-loaded to Youtube. Colbert ended the piece by noting that Ms. McVey will be getting free tickets for a future Phillies game. “Unfortunate, those tickets are for corn dog sniper night,” he joked. A photo flashed on the screen depicting a Marine in
camouflage firing a corn dog.

Always Bout Time For Boxing Levinsky

Battling Levinsky: Hardest Working Boxer in the Business

A look at recent boxing ratings shows that Englishman Anthony Joshua is listed as the world’s heavyweight champion with only 21 bouts.

Amazingly, the world lightweight champ has had a mere 12 fights.

Rarely do modern day boxers have 50 career fights.

If Philadelphia’s Battling Levinsky were alive, the old champ would be astounded, astonished and appalled that a man could become a champion with so few fights.

Levinsky often claimed he had 500 fights in a 20 year career that started in 1910.
The official record book shows a mere 287 bouts.
 
There is no debate that on New Year’s Day 1915, Levinsky fought three times – two 10 rounders in New York and 12 rounds in Waterbury, Conn.

Another time he fought six bouts in one week.

He became the world light-heavyweight champ in 1916 and defended the title 49 times over the next four years, before losing the title to Georges Carpentier. He took a a few years off to try his hand at business but returned to the ring and kept slugging.

Levinsky even fought heavyweights, including two great champs, Jack Dempsey and Gene Tunney. He lost to both men, but he was a great defensive fighter who rarely took a beating or suffered a knockout.

He was actually born Barney Lebowitz and started boxing under the name Barney Williams, probably to fool his parents. Eventually, a new manager gave him the Battling Levinsky moniker.

He lived in West Philly and died in 1949 at age 58.
Locating his burial place has so far proved fruitless.

Connie Mack and the Hunchback of Philadelphia

Many people think that there is way too much political correctness nowadays. For instance, it’s not correct to say “midget” or dwarf.” “Little people” is the accepted term. But in 1915 everyone called Hughie McLoon a “hunchback dwarf” and nobody thought it was offensive.

Even more insensitive, Connie Mack hired little Hughie to be the mascot of the Philadelphia Athletics. Players actually rubbed his deformed back for good luck before stepping into the batter’s box.

Apparently gnomish Hughie brought the As very little luck. His two-year stint with the club, 1915-17, were among the team’s worst years.

Also, the teenager was a bit of a wise guy. However, his gig with the team made him a well-known character around town. During prohibition he hung around with some of the city’s bootleggers and gangsters.

Because he was so well-known it was front-page news when little Hughie was shot dead in Center City in 1928.

Perhaps, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut, but the murder seemed to spark more gangland killings.

Imagine what it would be like if the Philly Phanatic was gunned down in Center City, one writer penned. Well, Hughie was not as beloved as the furry Phanatic , but his murder did shock the city.

Bad Weather Is No Handicap For Philly Golfers

Here’s a true story that has become legendary among local TV people.

Retired TV news reporter Mike Strug says it happened sometime in the 1970s when he was working as the weekend anchor for Channel 6.

Sports reporter George Strait had just concluded his segment by reporting on the PGA tournament underway in the balmy South.

“Then came the expected banter between us,” Strug recalls. “I said something like ‘It’s still too cold and snowy in Philly for local golfers to get out.’”

Strait reminded Strug that their colleague, Lou Pappas, played golf in the worst weather.

Strug says, “Well, how can he play in the snow?” 

“Well, Lou’s got purple balls,” Strait explained.

Lost in Translation: Richie Ashburn Just Didn't Get It

Jerry Helzner is a lifelong baseball fan. Like most Phillies followers he has a special love for Richie Ashburn...

"I became a fan of Phillies centerfielder and speedster Richie Ashburn when I found out that we shared the same birthday".

Here is a story he told several times as a longtime Phillies broadcaster.

"Richie was chosen by the newly formed New York Mets in a draft that was part of big league expansion in 1962. He joined a ragtag group of players who had never been teammates before,"

"In one of the first games, Richie called for a pop-fly to shallow center field,"

'I got it. I got it,' he yelled,"

"But shortstop Elio Chacon, who didn’t speak English, crashed into him and the ball fell to the turf,"

"In the dugout, manager Casey Stengel told Richie to just yell 'Yo lo tengo, yo lo tengo' (I got it in Spanish) and Chacon will get out of the way,"

"So when the situation happened again, Richie yelled 'Yo lo tengo' and sure enough Chacon backed off."

"Just in time for 230-pound leftfielder Jim Hickman – who didn’t speak a word of Spanish -- to crash into Richie and send him sprawling to the turf"

No wonder Ashburn retired at the end of that year.

Philadelphia's Greasy Poles

The city applied grease to utility poles to discourage drunks and other macho types from trying to climb them during Eagles and Villanova victory celebrations.

The entire nation got a good laugh over Philly’s grease strategy, including late-night TV host Jimmy Kimmel.

Kimmel showed a clip of someone during the Villanova festivities in Center City triumphantly perched on the top of a street sign. “They greased the poles and they still climb them,” said Kimmel. “If it was up to me, I’d put Crazy Glue on the poles.”

Don Russell Remembers: The Great Football Holding Test

Don Russell, veteran reporter, editor and beer expert, says journalism has been a mostly fun career. One Daily News story stands out in his memory “because it captures the fun, the inanity, the joy of working for a big city tabloid"

“It was September 1997, and the Eagles were meandering toward a losing season,” Russell recalls.

“Among the worst losses was the one against Dallas when Tom Hutton mishandled a snap on a gimme, last minute goal that would have won the game,” Russell explains. (The Cowboys won 21-20) He says it wasn’t a bad snap; Hutton simply just goofed-up holding the football for the kicker.

Russell says every sports fan in the city agonized over the loss. “How hard can it be to hold a f-- king football,” an editor said the next morning and a light bulb popped in Russell’s mind. “I don’t know. Let’s find out.”

Russell found a football, a piece of green outdoor carpet to simulate fake turf, and someone in the sports department convinced LaSalle College to send over their place-kicker.

The reporter, a photographer and the kicker set up the experiment in City Hall Courtyard and soon attracted a crowd. Volunteers in the crowd held the football for the few seconds it took for the kicker to make a clean kick. And sure enough, no one – not even a female Dutch tourist who had never seen a football – had any problem handing the pigskin.

Russell heard a familiar voice behind him asking what he was doing. It was City Councilman Rick Mariano. “I told him and he said ‘let me try.’ Just to prove it was easy, he one-handed the snap and held it in place without loosening his tie,” says the reporter.

Then Mariano (who later went to jail) said he wanted to kick one. “Here, hold this.” Mariano said,  handing the surprised reporter his holstered handgun. Russell said the councilman booted the ball squarely. But Mariano said it was not long enough, “I was trying to kick into Rendell’s window.” 

How hard is it to hold a football? “As Easy as One, Two, Three,” declared a Daily News headline the following day.

A Golfer With a Real 'Handicap'

It’s one of the more famous (or infamous) headlines to appear In the Philadelphia Daily News. 
It refers to golfing great Ben Hogan...

It read:
HOGAN COMES THROUGH WITH BLOODY PUTTS

A “putz” is a Yiddish word normally used to describe a foolish or stupid person.
More literally it means penis.

Philadelphia Sports Joke: Playing Possum

A riddle about either the Eagles football team and the Flyers ice hockey
team.... This year it definitely applies to the Flyers.

QUESTION: What do the Flyers and a possum have in common?

ANSWER: Both play dead at home and get killed on the road.”

Eagles Go To Super Bowl and Win! New Quarterback is Hero

The Eagles football coach was desperately seeking a new quarterback with a good throwing arm when he happened to see on television a CNN report from the war zone of Afghanistan. 

He spotted an Afghani soldier who threw a hand-grenade straight into a window from 80 yards away. He then threw a grenade another 70 yards into a chimney, and finally hit a passing car going 80 miles an hour. “The perfect arm! I’ve got to find this guy,” the coach declares.

He locates and brings the young Afghani to America and in a short time he picks up the game and is soon throwing amazing touchdowns and passes. Sure enough, the Eagles win the Super Bowl on the strength of the new quarterback’s arm.

After the game the elated sports hero calls his mother with the exciting news.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” says the old woman. “You deserted us, You are no longer my son.”

“Mother, I don’t think you understand I just won the most import sporting event in America,” he declares.

“No, let me tell you,” the woman responds. “At this very moment there are gunshots all around us. The neighborhood is a pile of rubble. Your two brothers were beaten within an inch of their lives last week. And I have to keep your sister in the house so she doesn’t get raped!”

The old woman pauses and tearfully says,”I will never forgive you for making us move to Philadelphia!”

Philadelphia Sports Never Gets Too Dirty: The Phillies at Baker Bowl

The biggest advertising sign at the old Baker Bowl read “The Phillies Use Lifebouy Soap.” 

A graffiti artist got inside one night and added “And they Still Stink.”

Beer or Baseball? Philadelphia Athletics vs the Chicago Cubs: Herbert Hoover vs The World Series Crowd

When President Herbert Hoover came to Shibe Park to watch the third game of the 1929 World Series, pitting the Philadelphia Athletics against the Chicago Cubs, the fans wanted the President to know what they thought of the prohibition of alcoholic beverages.

Instead of cheering the President after he was introduced, fans chanted “Beer! Beer! We Want beer!” It might have been the first time a President was heckled in a non-political setting.

Baseball Mixup: Connie Mack and the Philadelphia Athletics vs the Detroit Tigers...or Not?

One day in 1912, Connie Mack’s Philadelphia Athletics trounced the Detroit Tigers by a whopping 24-2.. . . 

Well, it wasn’t exactly the Detroit Tigers that took such a licking.

The Detroit team was on strike that day in support of teammate Ty Cobb, who had been suspended for assaulting a fan. So as not to forfeit a payday, Tigers management fielded a team of locals, including several ballplayers from St. Joseph’s College.

 Other “Tigers” were just volunteers sitting in the stands. The make-believe Tigers got to wear real uniforms and were paid for the day.!