No Money, No Beer, No Pennants. Scott H. Longert

and Carl Lind had three hits apiece. The new second baseman was off to a blazing start, knocking in three runs with a single, double, and triple. All this winning was something new, prompting Gordon Cobbledick of the Plain Dealer to write, “If you will glance at the table of American League standings this morning, you will observe that the first team on the list is Cleveland and that New York and Washington were tied for second place.” Cobbledick had taken the place of Henry Edwards, who moved to Chicago to work in the American League office. For the next forty years Gordon Cobbledick, a native Clevelander, would be regarded as one of the best sportswriters in the business. He may have been overly optimistic given that it was still only late April, but for a short time the Indians were playing like contenders.

      In the beginning of June the Indians dropped seven in a row to the Red Sox, Yankees, and Senators. No doubt many of the sceptics were waiting for this. The team did not have much pitching and defense, and the lack of a real power hitter began to show. In the middle of July they dropped five straight to New York. As the months continued Cleveland sank deeper and deeper in the standings. Another sixth- or even a seventh-place finish was looming.

      The Indians’ inexperienced front office was making mistakes as well. On July 14 the newspapers reported the team had claimed pitcher Johnny Miljus on waivers from the Pittsburgh Pirates. Miljus was a journeyman at best, not a star by any means. Almost immediately a controversy arose. The front office had neglected a rule which stated that a player who had been bought by a Major League team, if waived within a year, must pay the purchase price and not the waiver fee. The Pirates had bought Miljus from Seattle for $17,500 the previous July. That meant the Indians had to pay $17,500, not the waiver price of $7,500. The front office, likely covering for an embarrassed Billy Evans, issued a quick statement that a clerical employee had made an error and was not authorized to act on the waiver deal. The office wanted to withdraw the claim and pretend it never happened. The identity of the phantom employee was never revealed. The Pirates front office appealed to Commissioner Landis to oblige the Indians to cough up the money. Landis took one week to render a decision. It was a terse one, to the effect that the Indians had bought Miljus for $17,500. Evans tried to save face by issuing another statement to the press, saying, “We took a licking but we don’t feel bad about it. We rather think the acquisition of Miljus is a good thing for us.” From July through September, the new pitcher would win one game for his new team.

      Just two weeks after the Miljus fiasco, Alva Bradley made a decision that launched Cleveland baseball into the modern age: he gave the green light to WTAM Radio to start broadcasting the Indians home games every day except Sundays. For some time Bradley had agonized over the decision. He, like other owners, was concerned that the broadcasting of games would result in a significant reduction in attendance. Why pay money to see the games when you could hear them for free in your office or home? There were no statistics to analyze involving any trends in attendance versus broadcasts. In the end, Bradley came to his decision by putting the interests of the Cleveland fans first.

      Radio had been around in baseball since 1921, when station KDKA broadcast a Pittsburgh Pirates game. The World Series was next, with Grantland Rice behind the microphone. A few years later, Graham McNamee joined Rice and quickly established himself as a fan favorite. McNamee was not a student of the game, but his colorful and lively descriptions endeared him to listeners. If he made an obvious mistake or two, the fans just smiled and did not complain.

      On Wednesday, July 25, 1928, WTAM broadcast the first Cleveland Indians game. Billy Evans started the play-by-play along with former public-address announcer Tom Manning. Fans chuckled at Evans’s attempts to describe the action. Manning had suggested that the general manager use a diagram of the field, with names included, so he could quickly note who was making the plays. Evans scoffed at this but soon found that he did not recognize the players as well as he thought. To make matters worse, he had a sore throat which deteriorated as the game progressed. He tried lozenges and sucking on a lemon but nothing helped. After a few innings he turned the mike over to Manning and retired from broadcasting. The Indians, perhaps inspired by the new technology, clobbered the Red Sox, 10–2. A happy Evans bought a round of lemonade and orangeade for all the sportswriters in the press box.

      The radio broadcasts were welcomed by the Cleveland fans. WTAM received a large number of letters from fans who were blind or otherwise handicapped. These people could not say enough kind words in thanking both the Indians and the radio station. One letter in particular really pulled on the heartstrings. It came from a veteran of World War I who had lost his sight in battle. He told the WTAM station manager that he had faithfully attended games at League Park for sixteen years, but after the war and his blindness there was no point in going to the ballpark. Now he could follow the Indians as before.

      There would be one more remarkable team effort before the total collapse. On July 29 the Yankees were in town. Ruth, Gehrig, Lazzeri, and the others were a major draw in whatever city they played in, and the fans came in great numbers. By game time, the total attendance swelled to over 25,000, the biggest crowd of the season. The ushers brought out the ropes and let fans on the field, primarily in left and center. The Indians’ hitters went crazy, scoring an incredible eighteen runs in the first three innings. Yankee pitcher George Pipgrass was removed in the opening inning without retiring a batter. The entire Cleveland lineup, except for pitcher Joe Shaute, had a least two hits apiece. Luke Sewell and Johnny Hodapp both had five hits, while Carl Lind had a day to remember, collecting four hits and driving in five runs. Hodapp dazzled the crowd by banging out two hits in the second inning, then two more in the sixth. The Indians bashed twenty-seven hits, twenty-four of them singles. The final score was 24–6, one of the most lopsided games in Major League history to date. And it came at the expense of the powerful Yankees!

      Regardless of it turning out to be another disappointing season, Alva Bradley had not lost any of his enthusiasm. He told the newspapers that Roger Peckinpaugh would return for a second season, saying, “We want Peck to feel free to do whatever seems to him to be necessary to produce a winner or at least an improved team next year.” Bradley went on to say that in September a number of minor-league prospects would join the club and get an audition with the team. The names mentioned were Jonah Goldman, playing at Decatur, Johnny Burnett, a flashy shortstop from the Terre Haute club, and his teammate, pitcher Wes Ferrell. Peck planned to take a long look at the up-and-comers to see if any of them might help the team in 1929. Bradley was showing the fans and sportswriters that he had a firm grasp of the situation. He gave his manager an early vote of confidence, which let the players know there would be no shakeups in the front office, at least for another year. Bradley preached stability, the best course of action for his franchise.

      Chapter 3

       THE VOTE IS YES

      The conclusion of the 1928 season and the winter months ahead were critical for Bradley and Evans. The stadium bond issue was coming up in the November election, while Evans had a blank checkbook to find some extra talented ballplayers. The outfield was a prime concern as well as the need for pitching and infield help. The men in charge, including Roger Peckinpaugh, shared their ideas to improve the club. They took a hard look at the current roster to cull the weak ones from the herd.

      First to come under scrutiny were the long-term veterans. Joe Sewell had lost a step in the field, but his bat was as lethal as ever. He batted .323 with 190 hits, including forty doubles. In 588 plate appearances, the shortstop fanned only nine times. His ability to get the bat on the ball was simply way off the charts. Brother Luke caught 122 games while batting a respectable .270. He shamed the Sewell family, though, by fanning a grand total of twenty-seven times. Left fielder Charlie Jamieson managed to hit .307, which kept him in the starting lineup for the ninth consecutive year.

      On September 17 the Indians placed George Burns on waivers. Initially, Burns was on board with the decision. He was thirty-five years old and had been in the Major Leagues for fifteen years. Burns wanted to manage in the minor leagues and play some first base as well. He hoped none of the ball clubs would put in a claim, allowing him to find a place where he could manage. As a ten-year veteran, Burns was entitled to become a free agent if nobody claimed him on waivers. In spite of this, the New York Yankees unexpectedly claimed Burns, ruining his plans for the immediate future. Why they would need a backup