Posts Tagged ‘1892’

The First Fan

Thursday, January 26th, 2017

William Howard Taft invented—unintentionally—the seventh inning stretch, Franklin Delano Roosevelt urged Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis to continue Major League Baseball during World War II, and George W. Bush skyrocketed American morale after the 9/11 attacks when he threw out the first pitch of the 2001 World Series.

Baseball pulsates through the presidency, indeed, whether it’s Ronald Reagan sitting in the dugout of an Orioles game or Harry Truman being the first president to attend a night game.

It all started with Benjamin Harrison in 1892.

On the eve of the Republican National Convention—which took place in Minneapolis from June 7-10, 1892—Harrison churned through his presidential duties, despite tension surrounding the possibility of not being selected to represent the party in the upcoming election.  The Washington Post reported, “If the President was worried about the turn of affairs at Minneapolis he failed to let that worriment be detected by any one who conversed with him.  Secretary [of Agriculture] Rusk, upon leaving the White House, said that Mr. Harrison was not at all disturbed by the rumors that had emanated from the convention city but was, on the contrary, in the best of spirits and had spent a very pleasant day.”

After an inquiry by [Secretary of State John] Foster about attending the Cincinnati-Washington baseball game at Boundary Field, President Harrison acquiesced.  Foster’s baseball fandom manifested in restlessness—the Cabinet member “paced up and down the big stone port of the White House, now and then glancing at his watch, fearful that he would be too late to see the first game,” reported the Post.  The Reds beat the Senators 7-4.

It was the first presidential visit to a major league game.

Harrison lost the 1892 presidential election to Grover Cleveland.  Had the political winds shifted in the Democratic Party, Harrison might have faced a baseball fan—Senator David B. Hill of New York ran for the nomination.  A Post profile of Hill on June 5, 1892 described the senator’s nighttime activities as a combination of work and play.  “Night is Hill’s favorite time for work, and he manages to do considerable after he is through with callers.  That is the general programme [sic] of the New York Senator’s days.  He varies them by going to the theater, of which he is more than fond, and he has patronized the Washington theaters continually.  Then he is a baseball crank, it must be confessed, and finds time to get out to hurrah for the diamond kings very often.”

When Cleveland resigned his post as New York Governor, Hill, a former New York governor, earned the ire of some quarters for holding dual offices. On April 7, 1892, the New York Times declared, “He showed a contempt for common decency in holding the office of Governor for ten months after his term in the Senate began, and he left his seat in that body vacant for more than a month after the season of Congress opened.  He used that time in carrying out the infamous scheme for stealing a majority in the State Senate, and afterward secured the elevation of his most subservient and useful tool in the performance to the bench of the Court of Appeals, thus putting a dark stain upon the judiciary of the State.  Since he took his oath as Senator he has hardly spent two consecutive days in the Senate, and has taken no useful part in any of its proceedings.  He showed himself intent only upon selfish political schemes of his own.  He tried to bully a committee of the House into making a report favorable to retaining one of his devoted henchmen in the seat to which he was plainly not entitled.  Then he went off on a trip to the South, the sole object of which was to drum up delegates for himself to the Democratic National Convention.  That hunt was a dismal failure and only resulted in exposing to the Southern people his lack of principle and courage and turning them against him.”

Harrison’s presidency included appointing four justices of the United States Supreme Court, admitting six states to the union, and codifying the Sherman Anti-Trust Act and the Land Revision Act.  While Harrison’s ignition of presidential attendance at professional baseball games began a ballpark tradition, the sports world enjoyed other landmark events in 1892, including the playing of the first basketball game, the founding of the Liverpool Football Club, and the creating of the Stanley Cup—thanks to a proposal by Lord Stanley of Preston.

A version of this article appeared on www.thesportspost.com on January 7, 2016.

The Tragedy of Edgar McNabb

Saturday, December 17th, 2016

A murder-suicide in a Pittsburgh hotel on Valentine’s Day in 1894 firmly occupies a place on the roster of baseball’s tragedies.  It was the fatal result of a love affair between a major league pitcher and a baseball mogul’s wife.

Edgar McNabb pitched for he 1893 Baltimore Orioles, a team that boasted future Hall of Famers John McGraw and Wilbert Robinson.  It was McNabb’s only season in the major leagues, a capstone to a journeyman’s career in the minor leagues.  During his minor league exploits, McNabb met Louise Kellogg, the wife of W. E. Rockwell, who happened to be the Pacific Northwest Baseball League’s president.  In 1891 and for part of 1892, McNabb pitched for the league’s Portland ball club, the Webfeet.  He finished the 1892 season with the Los Angeles Seraphs of the California League.

The article “The Wages of Sin” in the March 5, 1894 edition of the Los Angeles Times details the McNabb-Kellogg relationship, citing a San Francisco Bulletin article as its source:  “Like many other American women, Mrs. Rockwell had little else to do except dress well and amuse herself, and she was a constant attendant at the baseball games, where she met the pitcher.  The Two soon became very intimate, and it was an open secret among he players that the affection of the two for one another was not purely platonic.

“Whenever his team was in Seattle, McNabb and the woman were always together, and when the team visited Spokane, the pitcher was always finding excuses to visit the city where Mrs. Rockwell lived.”

It was not a secret relationship.  Kellogg shed her familial obligations to be with McNabb when the pitcher got the job with the Seraphs.  The Bulletin article revealed, “At the same time Mrs. Rockwell left her husband and child and accompanied her lover from the pine frosts of Washington to the orange groves of California.  The two lived together as man and wife, although their relations were well known to their intimate acquaintances”

Kellogg was a stage performer, finding herself in Pittsburgh to perform at the Wigwam Theater and registering with McNabb at the Hotel Eiffel as husband and wife.  The article “End of a Guilty Love” in the March 1, 1894 edition of the Washington Post hypothesizes that a broken heart ignited McNabb’s fury:  “A number of letters belonging to Miss Kellogg showed that she had been keeping McNabb supplied with money the past few months.

“The company she was with disbanded some time ago, and she came here with the probably intention of either staying with her parents in Braddock, or getting money to tide her over until she procured another engagement.

“McNabb met her here, and as the woman was likely trying to break off her intimacy with him, this probably prompted McNabb to shoot the woman and himself.”

McNabb put three bullets into Kellogg, paralyzing her; Kellogg confirmed McNabb’s emotions as the source of the violence.  The article “Mrs. Rockwell Is Dying” in the March 2, 1894 edition of the Washington Post highlighted Kellogg’s condition:  “Mrs. Rockwell said to the nurse and attending physician that McNabb committed the deed because he was jealous of her, and thought she was in love with some other person.  She also said that if anything serious should happen she wanted the hospital authorities to send for her husband, W. E. Rockwell [sic], who is now in California.  It is believed that McNabb was afraid Mrs. Rockwell was contemplating returning to her husband, and it was for this reason that he determined to kill her and himself.”

Kellogg died in the early morning hours of March 2nd.

A version of this article appeared on www.thesportspost.com on February 14, 2015.