Barefoot Joe
Say It Ain't So, Joe!

By Lamar Stonecypher
 

       Charles A. Comiskey, the "Old Roman," doubted the truth of the rumors that his team's general manager, William "Kid" Gleason, brought to him. He had reason to doubt these rumors because he thought he had assembled a great team.

       They were the 1919 White Sox. Eddie Collins at second base and Ray Schalk as catcher were considered unequaled in the American League. In left outfield, Comiskey had "Shoeless" Joe Jackson, the illiterate, charismatic South Carolinian who had maintained a .356 batting average since coming to the majors. Spitballer Eddie Cicotte and Claude "Lefty" Williams were pitchers. The infield consisted of Chick Gandil at first, "Swede" Risberg at shortstop, and George "Buck" Weaver at third.

       They were the team that had dominated the pennant race that season. To Comiskey, and most sports writers, they were a sure bet for the Series.

       Their opponents were the Cincinnati Reds, the winners of the National League pennant, a team which had experienced little in the way of intense competition against a competent club.

       The White Sox only had to win five out of nine games to clinch the series. They were poised to become the winningest team in baseball.

       The first game was a disaster. Cicotte, on the mound, hit a batter and sent another batter to ground twice with wild beanballs in the first inning. Later, he allowed the Reds' pitcher, Dutch Ruether, to hit a lazy slow lob that turned in a triple. This was followed by a double, a single, and an inning over at a final score of nine to one in favor of the Reds.

       Gambling men, gathered in the lobby of the Hotel Simpson where the Sox were staying while in Chicago, talked about the amazing, unexpected victory. They talked about the swing and variability of the betting preceding the game, and they noted that some of their members had defied the odds and won big - by betting on the underdog Reds. Many in the Reds camp had even bet with the odds, in favor of the Sox. They were miffed. Talk of a fix was tossed about.

       This talk soon reached Kid Gleason, and he scurried to tell his boss. Comiskey listened and was concerned, but his initial impulse was to deny the veracity of the rumors. After all, he knew his team, and he trusted "his boys."

       Gleason added a few more details. He had observed unusual vacillations in the betting odds, and he had heard that certain high-rollers had scored big - too big. Also, the Sox had played a terrible game. Beside Cicotte's performance, where were the Sox's heavy hitters? Where was Barefoot Jackson?

       Comiskey did not want to believe, but he had seen his player's performance. Something was wrong, but what could he do? Without proof or evidence, he could not suspend his players, and it was the middle of the series!

       Comiskey's worry brought him to consult with rival American League president John Heydler. Of course, Heydler's perspective was that the Sox had simply been unprepared for the Reds. Comiskey went home, informed but not mollified.

       The second game was played October 2. Pitcher Lefty Williams seemingly lost control in the forth inning, allowing three walks and two hits. The final score was four to two, and once again the Sox heavy hitters were not in evidence.

       The October 3 game was played in Chicago at Comiskey Park. Pitcher "Wee Dickie" Kerr delivered a shut out for the Sox, three to nothing.

       Comiskey and Gleason felt better, but talk among the gamblers was of a double- cross. Talk suggested that the third game had been won to even up the odds.

       The Sox were shut out in the fourth game. Cicotte made two conspicuous errors in the outfield. The Reds were ahead in the series three games to one.

       The fifth game, played on October 6, was another shut-out. Lefty Williams was the pitcher.

       This completed the games scheduled for Chicago, and it was back to Reds territory for the next two games. The Reds were ahead four games to one, and the betting was all over the place.

       The White Sox took both games, and the sports world was in free fall. Wee Dickie Kerr and Cicotte were at the top of their form. Shoeless Joe Jackson and center-fielder Happy Felsch led a batting onslaught that produced scores of five to four and four to one.

       Play then rotated back to Chicago. The Sox needed to win two games to take the series; the Reds needed to win only one.

       The last game was played October 9 at Comiskey Park. Lefty Williams gave up four runs in the first inning, and the Reds raged onward to a ten to five victory that gave them the world championship.

       Comiskey, by this time, was deeply suspicious. While professing complete faith in his players, he also offered a $20,000 reward for information otherwise. Cicotte, Felsch, Jackson, Williams, Gandil, Risberg, and Weaver were his prime suspects. He went so far as to approach the Cook County state's attorney and offer to foot the bill for the investigation.

       Over the next few months, private investigators began to dig up dirt. Gandil was spending freely, and he had telegraphed his wife that he had "bet his shoes." Cicotte had told a relative, "Don't worry, I got mine."

       There things stood at the beginning of the 1920 season. All of the players that Comiskey had suspected came back, except for Gandil, who retired, and the team found themselves embroiled in heated battle with the Cleveland Indians for the pennant.

       The end came, not from any actions (or inactions) of the Sox, as might be expected, but from rumors surrounding a game by another team.

       This team was the American League Chicago Cubs. On August 31, 1920, they played the National League Philadelphia Phillies. Before the game, Cubs managers had heard rumors that the game was to be thrown. Cautiously, they replaced their starting player. The replacement, Grover Cleveland Alexander, was put in and actually offered a $500 bonus if the team won. The Cubs still lost.

       Fans and gamblers were outraged. Heated words were bandied about, and some of them fell on the ear of Cook County Chief Justice Charles L. McDonald. A hastily convened grand jury began its investigations on September 7, and soon a variety of players, owners, managers, and sports writers were called to testify.

       The focus shifted from the Cubs to the Sox, and Comiskey publicly admitted that he had funded $20,000 of investigation - without substantial and beguiling results.

       The story broke wide open in Philadelphia. Billy Maharg spilled the beans to Jimmy Isaminger, a newspaper sports writer. Maharg had arranged a meeting between gambler "Sleepy" Bill Burns, Eddie Cicotte, and Chick Gandil. The players indicated that they could "deliver" the World Series for $20,000 per game. The proceeds were to be split up between eight players. Maharg went on to provide details of deals made and broken and promises honored and sundered. The story was a sensation.

       Cicotte became nervous about his participation. On September 28, he went to Comiskey to confess his part in the crime. Comiskey's advice was to confess to the grand jury, not to him.

       That morning, Cicotte did exactly that. Jackson and Williams soon followed.

       Of course, Comiskey immediately suspended the players involved, even though this also meant that the Sox would lose the pennant to the Indians.

       The actual trial of the players started on June 27, 1921. After the judge's charge to the jury ("this law required proof of intent of the players not merely to throw baseball games, but to defraud the public and others") at the conclusion of the trial, the jury returned seven acquittals. The players were free to go.

       Now, let's go back to that grand jury hearing before the trial. On the second day of Shoeless Joe Jackson's testimony, as reported by the New York Times, a group of small boys were gathered at the courtroom entrance. One asked, "It isn't true, is it, Joe?" He responded, "Yes, boys, I'm afraid it is." By the time this report reached the west coast, it had become:

       "Say it ain't so, Joe!"

Sources
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Factual material about the 1919 White Sox scandal and all quotations used in this article were derived from an article entitled "Say it ain't so, Joe!" by Lewis Thompson and Charles Boswell in the June, 1960 issue of American Heritage.

For more information about "Shoeless" Joe Jackson, please visit Shoeless Joe Jackson - One of Baseball's Greatest Players who should be in the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY. (His long title - not mine!)

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Copyright (C) 2001 Lamar Stonecypher

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