Small scores in 1875 were the rule and not the exception. The sharp fielding and the restrictions placed on the batter, which had grown closer with each passing season, made the running up of such big scores as marked the game in the early days impossible, while the many close contests that took place added greatly to the popularity of what was now fully recognized as distinctively the National Game of America.
It was not all smooth sailing for the promoters of the game, even at this time. In the many poolrooms then existing throughout the country and especially in the larger cities great sums of money were wagered on the result of the various contests, and as a result "crookedness" on the part of various players was being charged, and though these charges were vigorously denied by those interested the denials carried but little weight in view of the in-and-out performances of the teams in which they were engaged.
There was a lack of discipline, too, among the players, and it was the necessity for prompt action in stamping out the evils then existing that caused the birth of the new National League and the death of the old organization.
There are "crooks" in all professions, but I venture the assertion right here that the "crooks" in base-ball have indeed been few and far between. Once detected, they have been summarily dismissed from the ranks, and with the brand of dishonesty stamped upon them they have been forced to earn a living in some other way.
It has long been a maxim among the followers of racing that "a crooked jockey" is always "broke," and this same saying holds good regarding the crooked ball players. I might mention the names of several players who were summarily dismissed from the league ranks because of crookedness and who have since that time managed to eke out a miserable existence by hanging about poolrooms and bucket-shops, but what good would it do? They have learned their lesson and the lesson has indeed been a bitter one.
It must be remembered, however, that the charges against these men were proven. They were not dismissed because of idle hearsay, but because of absolute and convincing proof. The breath of scandal has assailed more than one ball player without any good and convincing reason, and will doubtless do so again, just as it has assailed private reputations of men in other walks of life. The breath of truth has blown these scandals aside, however, and to-day the professional ball player stands as high in the estimation of his fellow men, providing that he conducts himself as a gentleman and not as a loafer, as does the professional man in other walks of life.
[CHAPTER VIII. SOME MINOR DIVERSIONS.]
Philadelphia is a good city to live in, at least I found it so, and had I had my own way I presume that I should still be a resident of the city that William Penn founded instead of a citizen of Chicago, while had I had my own way when I left Marshalltown to go into a world I knew but little about I might never have lived in Philadelphia at all. At that time I was more than anxious to come to Chicago and did my best to secure a position with the Chicago Club, of which Tom Foley, the veteran billiard-room keeper, was then the manager. As he has since informed me, he was looking at that time for ball players with a reputation, and not for players who had a reputation yet to make, as was the case with me, and so he turned my application down with the result that I began my professional career in Rockford instead of in Chicago, as I had wished to do. "It is an ill wind that blows nobody good," however, and for the Providence that took me to Rockford and afterward to the "City of Brotherly Love," I am at this late day truly thankful, however displeased I may have been at that time.
I have often consoled myself since then with the reflection that had I come to Chicago to start my career in 1871, that career might have come to a sudden end right there and then, and all of my hopes for the future might have gone up in smoke, for the big fire that blotted out the city scattered the members of the Chicago Base Ball club far and wide and left many of them stranded, for the me being at least, on the sands of adversity.
Shakespeare has said, "There is a Providence that shapes our ends rough hew them as we will," and it seems to me that the immortal Bard of Avon must have had my case in mind when he wrote that line, for I can see but little to complain about thus far in the treatment accorded me by Providence, though I am willing to admit that there was some pretty rough hewing to do before I was knocked into any shape at all.