Hutchinson, upon whom the most of the pitching work devolved, was one of the best in the business. He was a graduate of Yale, a gentleman and a player who used his head as well as his hands when in the box. Gumbert and Luby were both fair, and the latter, had it not been for strong drink, might have made for himself a much greater reputation than he did. Dahlen at short was a tower of strength to the team, being as agile as a cat, a sure catch and an exceptionally strong batter, while the rest of the infield and the entire outfield was away above the average in playing strength.
The race in 1891 was one of the closest in the history of the League. Opening the season in the third place we never occupied a lower position, but on the contrary, out of the twenty-four weeks that the season lasted he held the first place in the race for all of fifteen weeks and should have finished at the top of the column had it not been for the reasons already given, and which were largely commented on at the time by lovers of the game throughout the country, and the newspapers from one end of the United States to the other.
At the beginning of the closing week of the season's campaign Chicago was in the van by a percentage of victories of .628 to Bostons .615, which was apparently a winning lead and which would have been had not the New York organization made a present of its closing games to the Boston Club for the express purpose of throwing us down and keeping the pennant in the East. As it was, however, we finished head and head with the leaders, New York being third, Philadelphia fourth, Cleveland fifth, Brooklyn sixth, Cincinnati seventh, and Pittsburg eighth.
As an excuse for the queer showing made by the "Giants" in these Boston games it has been alleged that the team was in poor condition when it left the metropolis for the Hub to play this closing series, and that its true condition was kept a secret by the management, one writer going so far as to say that Manager Ewing's brother John was at that time disabled by a sprained ankle, while Rusie was suffering from a bruised leg, and also that Whistler had been playing at first base so well that Ewing thought he could afford to give Conner a day or two off, all of which may have been true, though I am free to confess right now that I do not believe it.
In February, 1892, the American' Association became a thing of the past, four of its leading clubs joining the National League, which now embraced twelve cities instead of eight, the circuit taking in Boston, Brooklyn, Louisville, Pittsburg, Cleveland, Cincinnati, New York, Philadelphia, Washington, Chicago, St. Louis and Baltimore.
The Chicago team for that season consisted of A. Gumbert, Hutchinson, Luby, Miller, Hollister and Meekin, pitchers; Kittridge and Schriver, catchers; Anson, first base; Canavan and Decker, second base; Dahlen and Parrott, third base; Dahlen and Cooney, shortstop; Ryan, Dugan, Wilmot and Decker in the outfield. The majority of these were green players, as compared with the seasoned material of which some of the other League clubs boasted, and it was only by switching them about from one position to another that it was possible to tell where they best fitted.
Although I had signed six pitchers at the beginning of the season, there were but three of them that fulfilled my expectations, viz., Gumbert, Hutchinson and Luby, and of these three Hutchinson did the lion's share of the work, pitching in no less than seventy of the one hundred and fifty-six games that we played. The team was not an evenly balanced one, however, and though it boasted of some individuals that were away above the average yet it lacked the ability and practice to play as a team and consequently finished the season in seventh place, Boston again carrying off the pennant with 102 games won and 48 lost, while Cleveland came second with 93 won and 56 lost, Brooklyn being third, Philadelphia fourth, Cincinnati fifth, Pittsburg sixth, Chicago seventh, New York eighth, Louisville ninth, Washington tenth, St. Louis eleventh and Baltimore last.
I remember one rather queer incident that occurred during that season, and while we were playing in Boston. Henry E. Dixey, the actor, who was then playing a summer engagement at the "Hub," had driven out to the grounds as usual in his buckboard, with his pet bull terrier "Dago" in the seat beside him. Dixey always retained a seat in his rig and took up his place right back of the left field. Dixie had not been on the ground more than twenty minutes when Dahlen swiped the ball for a three-bagger. It was one of those long, low, hard drives, and sailed about ten feet over the left fielder's head and in a direct line for Dixey. He couldn't have gotten out of the way had he tried, but the fact was that he didn't see it coming, and the first he knew of it was when he heard a sharp yelp at his side and saw poor "Dago" tumbling off his seat between the wheels.
The dog was dead when picked up, the ball having broken his neck. Between the yellow buckboard, the dead canine, the frightened horses and Dixey's excitement the whole field was in an uproar and it was fully ten minutes before we could get down to playing again, but Dahlen, the cause of it all, didn't even see the affair and scored on the death of "Dago," his being the only genuine case of making a dog-gone run that has ever come under my observation.
Some time during the winter of 1892, I added "big Bill Lange," who has since become one of the stars of the League, and Irwin to my string of fielders, and cast about to strengthen the pitching department of the team as much as possible, Gumbert and Luby having been released. Having this object in view no less than eleven twirlers were signed, of whom all but four proved comparative failures, Hutchinson, McGill and Mauck having to do the greater part of the work in the box, the other eight men, Shaw, Donnelly, Clausen, Abbey, Griffith, McGinnins, Hughey and F. Parrott being called on but occasionally. Of this lot Griffith was the most promising and he afterwards turned out to be a star of the first magnitude.