On that chilly afternoon in St. Louis, the 22-year-old left-hander made the first start of his major league career for the St. Louis Browns, the franchise that would eventually become the Cardinals. By the end of the day, he had thrown a no-hitter.

More than a century later, it remains one of the most extraordinary debuts in baseball history.

The young pitcher did not even realize what he had done until the game ended. His teammates carefully avoided mentioning the no-hitter as the game progressed, fearful that talking about it might jinx him. Breitenstein later recalled that he was simply focused on getting the next hitter out.

“I was too busy worrying about the next batter to care what had happened before,” he remembered years later.

It was only after the final out that his teammates began congratulating him and explained what had happened. While he stood trying to absorb the news, they carried him off the field on their shoulders. In one afternoon, a local St. Louis kid had become a baseball sensation.

Breitenstein’s story was deeply rooted in St. Louis. Born on June 1, 1869, he was the son of German immigrants and grew up in a city where baseball was rapidly becoming a civic obsession. Before reaching the major leagues, he worked making cookstoves for the Wrought Iron Range Company and pitched for the company’s baseball team, appropriately named the Home Comforts. He was hardly the imposing figure fans might imagine when they think of a dominant pitcher. The freckle-faced redhead stood just 5-foot-9 and weighed little more than 140 pounds when he entered professional baseball. Yet what he lacked in size, he made up for with intelligence, determination, and an exceptional left arm.

His rise through the local baseball ranks earned him an opportunity to practice with the Browns as part of a group of promising amateur players. The chance eventually led to a roster spot and, ultimately, to one of the most memorable first starts in baseball history.

The no-hitter was only the beginning. After an uneven 1892 season, Breitenstein emerged as one of the premier pitchers in the National League. His breakthrough came in 1893, a year that dramatically changed baseball. Prior to the season, the pitching distance was increased to 60 feet, 6 inches. The adjustment caused scoring to soar throughout the league as many pitchers struggled to adapt.

Breitenstein thrived. Despite playing for a team that finished near the bottom of the standings, he led the National League with a 3.18 ERA. The accomplishment was so impressive that Alfred H. Spink, founder of The Sporting News, later declared, “Theodore Breitenstein was at one time the greatest left-handed pitcher in America.”

That assessment did not seem exaggerated to those who watched him pitch during the 1890s. Hall of Fame outfielder Wee Willie Keeler offered a similarly glowing evaluation in 1897.

“He has terrific speed, sharp curves, and there is not a pitcher in the league that fields his position better,” Keeler said.

Breitenstein’s greatness becomes even more apparent when viewed through the lens of the teams he pitched for. The Browns were often among the weakest clubs in baseball, yet year after year, they remained competitive largely because of their hometown ace. From 1893 through 1896, Breitenstein accounted for 43 percent of the team’s victories. It was an astonishing burden for one player to carry.

The most remarkable example came in 1895, when the Browns won just 39 games all season. Breitenstein won 19 of them.

His 30 losses that year remain one of the highest single-season totals in major-league history, but the statistic says more about the weakness of the club than the quality of the pitcher. In fact, rival teams throughout baseball desperately wanted to acquire him. Sporting Life described him as a “good-natured, hard-working little wonder,” and despite the staggering loss total, virtually every team in the league recognized his value.

Modern fans accustomed to five-man rotations and pitch counts can scarcely comprehend Breitenstein’s workload. In 1894, he threw 447⅓ innings. Today, a 150-inning season makes a pitcher a workhorse. Breitenstein more than tripled that figure.

His workload remained one of the most remarkable in baseball history for well over a century. He routinely completed games, pitched on short rest, and was frequently asked to rescue teammates who had been knocked out of games early.

At one point during the 1894 season, Browns owner Chris Von der Ahe attempted to send Breitenstein back to the mound during the second game of a doubleheader after he had already completed the first game. Breitenstein refused and was promptly fined and suspended.

“The cranks have but a slight appreciation of the fearful strain a pitcher’s arm is subjected to,” he explained afterward.

Even by 19th-century standards, he knew he was being overworked.

His relationship with Von der Ahe was often contentious. The owner regularly worried about stories of Breitenstein’s drinking and inserted temperance clauses into his contracts. Those concerns were not entirely unfounded. One of the most famous stories of Breitenstein’s career occurred in 1893 when he reportedly became so intoxicated during a stop in Indiana that he refused to board the team’s train. Several teammates attempted to force him aboard but were unsuccessful. Eventually, he sobered up, returned to the club, and apologized.

Yet Breitenstein was hardly a carefree loafer. During the offseason, he worked as a machinist in a stove foundry and earned a reputation as a diligent laborer. One observer noted that there was “not a lazy bone in his body.” That combination of immense talent, personal flaws, and relentless work ethic made him one of the most fascinating players of his era.

Another source of his popularity was his partnership with catcher Heinie Peitz. The two German-Americans became known throughout baseball as the “Pretzel Battery,” one of the game’s most colorful nicknames. Their chemistry extended beyond simply throwing and catching.

Breitenstein and Peitz occasionally pretended to argue during critical moments of games. While the batter became distracted by the apparent disagreement, Peitz would secretly flash the sign for the next pitch. Then Breitenstein would quickly deliver the ball before the hitter regained his focus.

“We have pulled out of many a tight hole with that trick,” Breitenstein said.

The combination of gamesmanship and humor perfectly reflected the rough-and-tumble character of baseball during the 1890s.

After the 1896 season, the Browns finally sold Breitenstein to Cincinnati for a reported $10,000, an enormous sum at the time. The move transformed his career. Freed from carrying one of baseball’s weakest clubs, he immediately demonstrated what he could accomplish with better support around him.

He won 23 games in 1897 and 20 more in 1898. Then, on April 22, 1898, he added another historic accomplishment to his résumé by throwing the second no-hitter of his major league career against the Pittsburgh Pirates.

Even that achievement came with an unusual twist. On the very same day, Baltimore’s Jay Hughes also threw a no-hitter. It marked the first time in major league history that two no-hitters had been recorded on the same date.

Although Breitenstein enjoyed some of the finest seasons of his career in Cincinnati, St. Louis remained home. In 1901, he returned to the franchise, now known as the Cardinals. Unfortunately, years of extraordinary workloads had taken their toll. The pitcher who had once dominated National League hitters could no longer consistently summon his former brilliance. After just a few starts, his major league career came to an end.

His baseball journey, however, was far from over.

Breitenstein continued pitching successfully in the minor leagues for another decade, most notably with the New Orleans Pelicans. He remained effective well into his forties and even threw another no-hitter as a 40-year-old in 1909. His longevity became almost as impressive as his accomplishments in the major leagues.

As he aged, Breitenstein became an increasingly important source of baseball wisdom. Long before analytics and radar guns, he understood the value of changing speeds, studying hitters, and pitching intelligently.

When his wife, Ida, died in April 1935, the loss devastated him. Just eight days later, Breitenstein died of heart failure in his hometown of St. Louis. He was 65 years old.

Today, his name is largely forgotten outside the circles of dedicated baseball historians. Yet his story remains one of the most compelling in early Cardinals history. He was a hometown kid who worked in a stove factory, threw a no-hitter in his first major league start, carried struggling St. Louis teams on his shoulders, formed one of baseball’s most colorful batteries, and earned the admiration of teammates, opponents, and Hall of Famers alike. More than a century later, Breitenstein remains one of the most fascinating figures ever to wear a St. Louis uniform.

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The Cardinals had just completed a four-game series at Philadelphia that evening and were taking the “Federal Express” of the New York, New Haven, and Hartford Railroad line to Boston, where they were slated to begin another four-game series that day against the Braves.

Occupying two Pullman sleepers, the Cardinals originally were located near the front of the train behind the locomotive and a U.S. Fishery coach carrying young trout. In the summer heat, the position created a dilemma for the Cardinals players: it was too hot to sleep with the windows closed, but if they opened them, the smell of the locomotive engine and fish filled the car.[2]

After the Jersey City train ferry, the Cardinals’ Pullman was moved to the end of the train, though it is unclear whether this was due to demands from Cardinals manager Roger Bresnahan or a simple mix-up during the cars’ reassembly. In that day’s paper, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch wrote that “the baseball coaches were hitched on at the end instead of in their proper place in the train.”[3] The train’s brakeman later said the Cardinals were moved to the rear after Bresnahan complained.[4] Regardless, the change may have saved the lives of the Cardinals players and the two reporters traveling with them.[5]

According to the St. Louis Star and Times, the train was an hour behind schedule and traveling approximately 60 mph at 3:32 a.m. when it jumped the overhead crossing in Bridgeport, Connecticut, and plunged 20 feet down an embankment. According to the railroad, the train should only have been traveling 15 mph.[6]

“When the heavy vestibule train of nine cars struck the switch at full speed, the locomotive leaped, rocked, and swayed over the ties for nearly 150 yards and finally plunged to the street below, dragging six cars down the bank,” the Post-Dispatch reported. “The coupling broke between the sixth and the seventh cars, leaving three sleepers upright on the embankment, two of them still on the rails.”

The cars containing the Cardinals were the only ones that didn’t leave the track. Rube Geyer, a 27-year-old pitcher, suffered a sprained wrist and was the only Cardinal injured in the accident.

“No sooner had the wreckage piled up in the street than the baggage car caught fire,” the Star and Times reported. “The flames threatened to spread to the sleepers, where many injured passengers were imprisoned.”[7]

Bresnahan was credited with organizing the Cardinals’ rescue efforts, which were crucial in the minutes before ambulance crews arrived. “When the crash came, the old-time leadership of Bresnahan came to the fore,” the Post-Dispatch said. “There was much excitement among the younger men, but Roger’s voice went carrying high above the din, calling his men to calmness and order as though he were ordering a game.”[8]

Lee Magee, a 22-year-old infielder, said, “If ever a man lived who possessed a cooler head, I have not heard of him. We were barely picking ourselves up off the floor. He seemed to be the first to recognize an accident had occurred and our assistance might be needed. He was the first man to leave our coach, and we all followed.”[9]

With some barefoot and many still dressed in their nightclothes, the Cardinals emerged from their cars and rescued at least a dozen fellow passengers. Wally Smith, a 23-year-old backup infielder, saved two infants,[10] and 20-year-old catcher Ivey Wingo and Bresnahan worked together to rescue a woman from the debris of one car as it caught fire.[11] Miller Huggins, a 5-foot-6, 140-pound second baseman who later managed both the Cardinals and Yankees, squeezed into a tight space to help pull one man from the wreckage.[12]

“We got axes from our cars and the next one and started clearing away the wreckage so we could get at the bodies of the dead and the dying,” outfielder Steve Evans said.[13]

“Many a victim of the wreck owes his life to the promptness of the St. Louis National League Baseball team,” reported The Hartford Times the following afternoon.[14] In the aftermath, the City of Bridgeport petitioned the Carnegie Commission for medals to be presented to members of the team for their quick actions.[15]

Despite the Cardinals’ efforts, the scene was horrific. The dead recovered from the wreckage were laid out on the lawn of a nearby house, and local residents opened their doors to aid the injured.[16]

Among the wreckage was the burned body of the engineer, Arthur Curtis. A 1-year-old baby was discovered alive in one car after it had been separated from its mother and aunt. In another car, a Mrs. Whatonm of Philadelphia was rescued, but her child was discovered dead beneath her. The Star and Times reported that two more babies were killed.[17]

George S. Roberts, whom the Star and Times identified as a lieutenant of the U.S. Army and whom the Post-Dispatch said was a sergeant in the Coast Guard, lost both his wife and infant son in the crash.[18] [19]

“The cars that had fallen to the street were piled up like a monster kindling pile,” center fielder Rebel Oakes said. “Men, women, and children were sticking out of the debris. Among the passengers was a man who was returning from the funeral of his sister. He was accompanied by his wife and two children. Only himself and one of the children escaped. It was pitiful to hear him crying aloud for his wife and child as he dashed about the wreck.”^[20]

Afterwards, Bresnahan sent a telegram to the Post-Dispatch sports editor saying: Every car on train demolished except our two Pullmans in rear. All my men safe. We called off game with Boston because we lost our baggage and had no uniforms to play in.[21] There was no mention of his or his team’s heroics.

Incredibly, though their July 11 game against the Braves was postponed, it was rescheduled as a double-header the following day. As their own uniforms were destroyed in the wreck, the Cardinals played in Boston’s road uniforms with old-English B’s on their left sleeves. Word of the Cardinals’ life-saving efforts had spread, and the Boston crowd gave Bresnahan a warm cheer when he stepped to the plate for his first at-bat.[22]

The Cardinals won the first game 13-6 before the second ended in a 6-6 tie after 10 innings.

Give the gift of Cardinals history! The Trades That Made The St. Louis Cardinals is available now on Amazon.

[1] Tom Shieber, “Tracks of Cardinals Heroes,” National Baseball Hall of Fame, https://baseballhall.org/discover/tracks-of-cardinals-heroes.

[2] Tom Shieber, “Tracks of Cardinals Heroes,” National Baseball Hall of Fame, https://baseballhall.org/discover/tracks-of-cardinals-heroes.

[3] “Cardinals Escape Due To Error,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, July 11, 1911.

[4] Dom Amore, “Heroes Off The Field: In 1911, St. Louis Cardinals Became First Responders In Bridgeport Train Wreck,” Hartford Courant, July 9, 2011.

[5] Tom Shieber, “Tracks of Cardinals Heroes,” National Baseball Hall of Fame, https://baseballhall.org/discover/tracks-of-cardinals-heroes.

[6] “Cardinals Heroes in Wreck In Which 13 Meet Death,” St. Louis Star and Times, July 11, 1911.

[7] “Cardinals Heroes in Wreck In Which 13 Meet Death,” St. Louis Star and Times, July 11, 1911.

[8] “16 Killed, 65 Injured, When 60-Mile-An-Hour Train Leaps From Viaduct,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, July 11, 1911.

[9] Dom Amore, “Heroes Off The Field: In 1911, St. Louis Cardinals Became First Responders In Bridgeport Train Wreck,” Hartford Courant, July 9, 2011.

[10] “Cardinals Heroes in Wreck In Which 13 Meet Death,” St. Louis Star and Times, July 11, 1911.

[11] “16 Killed, 65 Injured, When 60-Mile-An-Hour Train Leaps From Viaduct,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, July 11, 1911.

[12] Dom Amore, “Heroes Off The Field: In 1911, St. Louis Cardinals Became First Responders In Bridgeport Train Wreck,” Hartford Courant, July 9, 2011.

[13] Dom Amore, “Heroes Off The Field: In 1911, St. Louis Cardinals Became First Responders In Bridgeport Train Wreck,” Hartford Courant, July 9, 2011.

[14] Dom Amore, “Heroes Off The Field: In 1911, St. Louis Cardinals Became First Responders In Bridgeport Train Wreck,” Hartford Courant, July 9, 2011.

[15] Jason Pickney, “Bridgeport Mayor Asks Carnegie Medals For Cardinal Heroes,” St. Louis Star and Times, July 12, 1911.

[16] “Cardinals Heroes in Wreck In Which 13 Meet Death,” St. Louis Star and Times, July 11, 1911.

[17] “Cardinals Heroes in Wreck In Which 13 Meet Death,” St. Louis Star and Times, July 11, 1911.

[18] “Cardinals Heroes in Wreck In Which 13 Meet Death,” St. Louis Star and Times, July 11, 1911.

[19] “16 Killed, 65 Injured, When 60-Mile-An-Hour Train Leaps From Viaduct,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, July 11, 1911.

[20] Tom Shieber, “Tracks of Cardinals Heroes,” National Baseball Hall of Fame, https://baseballhall.org/discover/tracks-of-cardinals-heroes.

[21] “All Cardinal Players Safe Roger Bresnahan Wires,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, July 11, 1911.

[22] Tom Shieber, “Tracks of Cardinals Heroes,” National Baseball Hall of Fame, https://baseballhall.org/discover/tracks-of-cardinals-heroes.

The post 1911 Cardinals survive horrific train crash, save fellow passengers first appeared on STLRedbirds.com.

Doak, a 26-year-old spitballer from Pittsburgh, had been the Cardinals’ best pitcher since joining the rotation full-time in 1914. That season, he won 19 games and led the league with a 1.72 ERA.

The Phillies greeted Doak roughly in the first inning, scoring four runs on two hits, two walks, and an error. For the next 14 innings, however, Doak held the Phillies to just four hits, including two infield singles. During that span, he struck out 10 batters and walked just one.

“It was perfect pitching, beautifully conceived and smartly executed,” W.J. O’Connor wrote for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, “and Doak was so good at the finish that it did seem that he could have endured for another full game.”[1]

Doak’s pitching allowed the Cardinals to rally back from the early 4-0 deficit with one run in the fourth and three more in the sixth. For the next eight innings, the teams remained deadlocked as Doak and Phillies starter Joe Oeschger exchanged zeros on the scoreboard.

Finally, in the bottom of the 15^th, the Cardinals found a way to get their fifth run across the plate. Gonzalez, a native of La Habana, Cuba, had been hitless through six at-bats before he smacked a one-out double to right field. Dots Miller advanced Gonzalez to third on a ground ball, and with two outs, Oeschger intentionally walked Rogers Hornsby, who was already 4-for-6 with two runs scored on the day.

With left fielder Walton Cruise at the plate, Gonzalez made his move. As the Philadelphia Inquirer described it:

Oeschger stood on the rubber looking for the sign from (catcher Bill Killefer). Suddenly, Gonzales tore away from third base. He was racing and cutting the dirt with his spikes toward home while Oeschger, apparently paralyzed, gripped the ball. Joe finally recovered from his astonishment at the Cuban’s audacity and made a hurried toss to the plate. The throw was high and on the outside, hit Killefer’s glove, and dropped to the ground, and the game was over – a clean steal of home for Gonzales.[2]

The stolen base was just the 14^th of Gonzalez’s career.

“It was a proper finish to the best game of baseball played in St. Louis this season,” wrote J.B. Sheridan in the St. Louis Globe-Democrat.[3]

With the win, Doak improved to 7-4. Oeschger was the tough-luck loser, allowing three earned runs over 14 2/3 innings.

Though Gonzalez ended the game batting just .155, his double and game-winning stolen base seemed to help turn around his season. Over his next three games, he totaled seven hits. He finished the season with a .261 average.

Gonzalez enjoyed a 17-year major-league career that included eight seasons with the Cardinals. In addition to serving as one of the key figures in Cuban baseball history, where he was a player, manager, and owner in the Cuban League for 50 years, Gonzalez was a coach on the 1934 Gashouse Gang. In 1938, after Frankie Frisch was fired, he became the first Latin American manager in major league history when he served as interim manager for the Cardinals’ final 16 games.

Doak, too, had a lasting impact on the game. After baseball outlawed the spitball in 1920, Doak was one of just 17 pitchers allowed to continue throwing the pitch. The pitch proved a powerful weapon for the right-hander, as evidenced by his 32 career shutouts, which rank second only to Bob Gibson in franchise history.

In 1920, Doak recommended to Rawlings that it place a web between the index finger and thumb to create a pocket for the ball. Doak’s glove model became a bestseller for Rawlings and soon became the standard across baseball.

Give the gift of Cardinals history! The Trades That Made The St. Louis Cardinals is available now on Amazon.

[1] W.J. O’Connor, “Gonzales’ Third Safety in 39 Tries Wins 15-Inning Game,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, June 12, 1917.

[2] “Steal Home Beat Phils in Fifteenth,” Philadelphia Inquirer, June 12, 1917.

[3] J.B. Sheridan, “Cardinals Beat Phillies in Great 15-Inning Battle, 5 to 4,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, June 12, 1917.

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Perhaps no one in baseball history can claim as much credit for bringing the sport to the masses and making baseball a truly American game, an ironic achievement for a German immigrant who was widely ridiculed for his thick accent and flamboyant ways.

In many ways, modern baseball stadiums emulate Von der Ahe’s vision for Sportsman’s Park in everything from the array of entertainment options at the ballpark to the flashy scoreboards. The modern ballpark wouldn’t be the same without beer and concessions – another innovation led by Von der Ahe and the St. Louis Browns.

Ultimately, it was Von der Ahe and his fellow American Association owners who brought baseball to the American public, welcoming working-class families to a sport they previously had been unable to afford.

Perhaps just as important to Cardinals fans, it was Von der Ahe – nicknamed Der Boss President – who made baseball a success in St. Louis, succeeding where American club owners had failed. That success earned Von der Ahe a significant place in the history of American baseball and the St. Louis Cardinals franchise. It also made him a lightning rod for criticism. Newspapers of the time reveled in telling outlandish stories about Von der Ahe, especially those that depicted the Browns owner as an over-proud immigrant who didn’t understand the English language, modern technology, or even the sport he had done so much to make successful in St. Louis.

As a result, opinions among baseball historians regarding Von der Ahe’s place in the sport remain mixed.

ARRIVAL & EARLY SUCCESS

The oldest of nine children, Von der Ahe emigrated to New York from Hille, Germany in 1867. Facing mandatory service in the Prussian army during the wars of German unification, Von der Ahe likely told officials he was born in 1851, a fiction that would have made him too young to serve in the military. Even after emigrating, Von der Ahe maintained this fictional birthdate, which appears in official documents and on his headstone[1]. Edward Achorn, author of “The Summer of Beer and Whiskey,” speculates that Von der Ahe maintained this falsehood so he might avoid arrest should he choose to return to Germany someday.

Regardless, Von der Ahe stayed in New York only a few weeks before going to St. Louis, where he began working as a grocery clerk. While he later would be known for his extravagant lifestyle, Von der Ahe worked hard and saved his money. Within a few years, he purchased his own grocery store and added a tavern to the establishment. He later would add a butcher shop and feed store[2].

By the early 1870s, Von der Ahe had begun purchasing real estate, and by 1875 he moved his delicatessen to the corner of Grand Boulevard and St. Louis Avenue. While it appeared to be an unusual decision at the time of the purchase, it quickly grew into a bustling business district[3], thanks in no small part to the efforts of Von der Ahe, who was influential in the German immigrant community, serving as a member of the Democratic Party and the local German Immigration Society[4], and also as chairman of the Eighth Congressional District Committee[5].

Popular lore depicts Von der Ahe as the ignorant German who stumbled onto the profitability of baseball in his quest to sell beer. In Chris Von der Ahe and the St. Louis Browns, J. Thomas Hetrick notes that, “by the spring of 1880, Von der Ahe began to notice the daily shouts of boys playing ball across the street.”

Later, Hetrick recounts an oft-quoted conversation between Von der Ahe and Al Spink in which Von der Ahe said, “Vot a fine pig crowd. But the game, Al, how was the game? Vas it a goot game? You know, I know nawthing.”

As an active community leader, however, Von der Ahe was fully aware of the passion his West End community had for baseball. In 1875, he joined the Grand Avenue Club’s board of directors. The club played their games across the street from Von der Ahe’s grocery and saloon, and by 1875 he served as the club’s vice president[6].

At the time, owning a professional baseball team was no guarantee of financial success. A St. Louis Brown Stockings team had been established in 1875, and even tied for second place in the new National League, but disbanded after the 1877 season amid accusations that players had thrown games and the managers had bribed umpires[7].

In 1878, William and Al Spink and August Solari, the operator of the Grand Avenue Grounds, established a new Brown Stockings team, but this club was even less successful. Unable to gain entry into the National League, the Brown Stockings struggled to schedule quality competition, and went out of business in 1880[8].

Despite these previous failures, when the Sportsman’s Park and Club Association asked Von der Ahe to help sell stock, Von der Ahe came back a few weeks later with a check and told the stockholders he had sold 180 shares. “Never mind who bought it,” he said. “There’s Chris Von der Ahe’s check for $1,800.”[9]

In Edward Achorn’s The Summer of Beer and Whiskey, he quotes sportswriter Harry Weldon: “When Von der Ahe pulled out of the savings bank the most of his hard earnings and invested it in resurrecting the national game in St. Louis, he knew as much about baseball as a porker does about theology. Chris had no experience then, but was plucky and game enough to risk the money in the venture when no one else would touch it with a pair of tongs.”

It’s entirely possible that Weldon underestimates Von der Ahe, even as he accurately depicts the risk of the investment. Von der Ahe’s purchase appeared especially suspect when the Browns were unable to gain readmission to the National League. Given St. Louis’ history with gambling scandals and low attendance, and Von der Ahe’s plan to sell beer at the ballpark, the National League – with its bans on alcohol sales and Sunday games – had no interest in the upstart German and his Browns[10].

To most of the Browns’ stockholders, this eliminated the team’s best chance to profitability. But Von der Ahe saw another path to success. At a time when most factory workers earned $500 per year[11], the National League’s 50-cent admission was a challenge for working class citizens. The Browns’ 25-cent admission made the game more inclusive, and drew crowds excited to cheer on their local boys. Von der Ahe also introduced Sunday baseball – the one day a week that laborers were off work – and sold both beer and hard liquor at the stadium.

In 1882, Von der Ahe and others formed the American Association, admitting the Browns, Brooklyn Atlantics, Cincinnati Reds, Louisville Eclipse, and Pittsburgh Alleghenys. At Von der Ahe’s insistence, the league featured Sunday games and 25-cent admission. The new league initially barred alcohol sales, but after objections from St. Louis and Cincinnati, the league’s other owners agreed to allow alcohol at the ballpark[12].

Of course, to attract a crowd, Von der Ahe needed a ballpark worthy of the name. Grand Avenue Park was past its prime, and featured a two-story building 285 feet down the right-field line. But Von der Ahe had a vision for the future of the property. He updated the grandstand with a new upper deck, and installed covered bleachers down the baseline – a project totaling $2,500[13]. The two-story building was converted into a German-style beer garden, with chairs and tables placed within the field of play.

Some believe that Von der Ahe’s “weiner wurst” stand first introduced hot dogs as a baseball staple, though others credit New York’s Harry M. Stevens[14].

As the Browns became a force to be reckoned with in the American Association, Von der Ahe continued to improve the stadium, now known as Sportsman’s Park. In the outfield, he added a bulletin board – a forerunner to today’s scoreboards – that featured out-of-town scores conveyed via telegraph (a benefit for local gamblers). Von der Ahe also made Sportsman’s Park welcoming to women, installing a ladies restroom, offering special seating sections and souvenirs, and hosting Ladies Nights[15]. In 1883, the press box was enclosed, a relief to reporters who had been annoyed by the constant visits of fans offering their opinions for the next day’s headlines, and in the player dressing rooms, each gentleman had their own locker, a rarity for the time[16].

Referring to Sportsman’s Park as the Coney Island of the West, Von der Ahe brought a Wild West show featuring 50 Indians and 40 cowboys and cowgirls to the ballpark. In 1896, Von der Ahe began building a one-third mile horse racing track at Sportsman’s Park. Critics complained that the move brought gamblers and an unwholesome element to the ballpark, but when the league told Von der Ahe he was violating league rules regarding gambling, the Boss President responded that the rule applied only to baseball[17].

When neither the Wild West show nor the race track brought in the revenue Von der Ahe sought, he installed a shoot-the-chutes at the park. After an elevator took visitors to the top of the water slide, they were strapped into a boat and plunged to the bottom. The attraction lasted less than two seasons, however, amid lawsuits from the construction company and the company that owned the patent[18].

Undeterred, Von der Ahe introduced an ice skating park to Sportsman’s Park in 1896. Just before the grand opening, Von der Ahe asked an employee to test the ice. The unfortunate fellow crashed through the ice and had to be pulled from the water by a policeman.

“Vell, vat dit you do dat for?” Von der Ahe demanded. “I nefer toldt you to chump t’roo it, dit I?”

The policeman had to prevent Von der Ahe from attacking the man, and the evening’s celebration was postponed[19].

While Von der Ahe’s off-the-field attractions were largely unsuccessful, the Browns led both American Association and National League teams in attendance in 1882, 1884, 1886, and 1891, drawing as many as 243,000 fans in 1883[20]. That year, the Browns earned $50,000 in profit, second only to Philadelphia[21]. Throughout most of the 1880s, the Browns reportedly earned $75,000 per year[22], and by 1890, the Browns had earned Von der Ahe more than $500,000 in profits[23].

After games, Von der Ahe often lit a victory cigar, then, flanked by armed guards, transported the day’s earnings in a wheelbarrow to the bank. “Five tousand tamn fools, und one wise man. Und dat wise man iss me – Chris Von der Ahe,” he was fond of saying[24].

In addition to his baseball profits, the Browns’ player contracts required the players to stay at Von der Ahe’s boarding house, ensuring that the owner recouped a portion of each player’s salary[25]. Players often drank at Von der Ahe’s saloons, allowing the owner to recollect even more of the players’ salaries.

However, the players didn’t always want to drink under the owner’s supervision. When they chose to visit other establishments, the Browns players kept an eye out for Von der Ahe’s prized greyhounds, which often preceded him beneath the saloon doors. Once they saw those dogs, players would bolt out the back door[26].

Von der Ahe’s innovations weren’t entirely to credit for the Browns’ success at the ticket gate. The Browns magnate surrounded himself with great baseball men such as Ned Cuthbert, Ted Sullivan, and Charles Comiskey. Together, their personnel decisions helped the Browns win four consecutive pennants from 1885-88.

As Jeff Kittel writes in an essay supporting Von der Ahe’s 2016 Hall of Fame bid, “The popular interpretation of the success of the Browns in the 1880s has always been to credit Charles Comiskey for putting together and running a club that won four consecutive championships. But there is no evidence to suggest that Comiskey, who was without a doubt, a great baseball man, an extraordinary leader, and an admirable person, had any involvement in the signing of players. On the other hand, there (are) multiple references in the contemporary press to Chris Von der Ahe going on the road, identifying players that he believed would help the Browns, and signing them.”

THE STORIES

Perhaps one of the reasons Von der Ahe doesn’t receive significant credit for his accomplishments, either in bringing baseball to the masses or for his role in finally establishing a successful baseball franchise in St. Louis, is because newspapers across the country depicted him as an impulsive, preening fool. Some of this reputation certainly was earned, but reporters also appeared to take great joy in presenting Von der Ahe as a bumbling caricature.

As J. Thomas Hetrick notes in his book, Chris Von der Ahe and the St. Louis Browns, “proof exists that many of (Von der Ahe’s) quotes were not quite authentic, due in part to their repetitive nature. Certain quotations were run year after year in St. Louis’ local newspapers, often with them intact but the wording slightly altered.”

The story often is told that at the grand opening of the renovated Sportsman’s Park, where Von der Ahe reportedly said, “Look around, chentlemen, because this is the largest dimundt in the welt ist.” In different versions of the story, Comiskey or team secretary David L. Reid then inform Von der Ahe that all baseball diamonds are, by rule, the same dimensions. “Vot I meant to say vas this is the larchest infield in the welt ist,” Von der Ahe is said to have replied.

In a meeting with his fellow American Association owners, Von der Ahe is said to have protested the number of rainouts placed on the Browns schedule[27]. Another common Von der Ahe story tells of a reporter asking the Boss President about uniformity in scorekeeping. “Now vot do reporters want with uniforms on?” Von der Ahe said. “Are they stuck on the dames and do they want to show off? Let the players wear the uniforms, but not the reporters.”[28]

On another occasion, Von der Ahe joined his team in the clubhouse to fine shortstop Bill Gleason $100 for failing to stop a ground ball.

“But Chris, he wasn’t even near the ball,” said Comiskey, noting that the ball went through the infield 20 feet to Gleason’s left.

“But why wasn’t he in front of it?” responded Von der Ahe[29].

That doesn’t, however, mean that Von der Ahe was unreasonable. After one loss, the owner ordered the players to report to his hotel room for a team meeting, where he asked them why they lost the game. It was third baseman Arlie Latham who spoke for the team when he said, “You see, boss, we had devilish hard luck.”

The New York Times reported that Von der Ahe returned his players’ gaze before breaking into a grin. “Vell, boys, if it was hard luck dot settles it. You can’t win a game ven you have hard luck.”[30]

As owner, Von der Ahe demanded that his players remain sober enough to play on game days, a challenging task in the era. Outfielder Tom Mansell lost a good portion of the season one year when he fell through a hotel elevator shaft[31].

On one memorable occasion, center fielder Fred Lewis and a teammate were arrested for drunkenness. The following morning, when the players awoke on the floor of their cell, Von der Ahe was on the other side of the bars.

“Say Fred,” Von der Ahe said, “I tell you fellers to go to bed at 11 o’clock last nide. You got in der wrong room, didn’t you?”[32]

Von der Ahe took to fining players for drinking too much, even going so far as to hire a detective to follow second baseman Yank Robinson. When the detective found that Robinson indeed had been drinking, the Boss President fined him $100. But Robinson protested, explaining that he was taking medicine for “hydrophobia,” and that the medicine made him week. Feeling sorry for his star second baseman, Von der Ahe advanced Robinson $25 for additional medicine[33].

Another story tells of Von der Ahe fining Latham $100. After meeting the third baseman to hear his case, Von der Ahe agreed to reduce the fine to $50. A prankster known for emulating Von der Ahe’s signature gait and wearing a bright red nose during the team’s daily trek from the Boss President’s saloon to Sportsman’s Park[34], Latham then asked for a $50 loan to even their accounts. Later, Latham would estimate that Von der Ahe must have fined him more than $1 million, though he rarely remembered to collect. At other times, Comiskey stood up for his players, advocating so successfully for his players’ efforts that the fines were transformed into bonuses[35].

That isn’t to say, however, that Von der Ahe always forgot the fines he levied. Determined to keep his players in line, Von der Ahe paid what he called “private watchmen” to keep an eye on the players. Based upon their daily reports, Von der Ahe would fine the players $2 for drinking beer, $5 for whiskey, and $50 for gin[36].

After the 1889 season, five starters deserted the team for other squads. In 1892, pitchers Ted Breitenstein and Jack Easton were the only returners from the previous year[37].

Even away from the ballpark, Von der Ahe was considered eccentric, with a questionable mastery of the English language. Once, after purchasing a new horse and buggy, Von der Ahe demonstrated the new purchase to his friends. But to the horror of onlookers, the horse crashed into a telephone pole, ejecting Von der Ahe from buggy. Embarrassed and angered, Von der Ahe told an assistant to, “take dot … horse back to der barn unt starve him to deat. Don’t give him noddings to eat but hay and oats.”[38]

MANAGERS

The same eccentricities that made Von der Ahe such an interesting figure to the public imagination made him appear a madman when the team struggled to continue its success in the 1890s, and strained his relationships with a steady parade of managers. Ted Sullivan, the Browns’ first manager and the man who helped build the foundation for the team’s success, was the first to leave the team after a dispute with the Boss President during the 1883 pennant race.

“Chris had been interfering with me for a week or so before the climax came, and finally I could stand it no longer,” Sullivan said. “I told him I had enough of his interference and that he could take his club and run with it.”[39]

Demanding his release, Sullivan threw a gold pocket watch Von der Ahe had gifted him back in the owner’s face. Von der Ahe would later apologize and ask Sullivan to return, but the manager refused. In Sullivan’s 1903 autobiography, he would relate that Von der Ahe insisted Sullivan accept payment for the entire season[40].

“But I would rather have won the pennant and enjoyed its glory,” Sullivan wrote[41].

Von der Ahe announced that he would manage the team and keep the players in line, though he handed the day-to-day responsibilities to Charles Comiskey, who had signed a $60 per month contract with the team the year prior[42]. The new player-manager, who would go on to own the Chicago White Sox, quickly earned national recognition en route to leading the Browns to four American Association titles.

Other teams made bids for Comiskey’s services. Washington offered Von der Ahe $10,000, while Boston offered $15,000. Brooklyn owner Charles Byrne reportedly offered Von der Ahe $100,000 to purchase Comiskey and his players[43]. Despite – or perhaps because of – their success, the relationship between Von der Ahe and Comiskey had strained by 1889, and they argued over who deserved the credit.

After Comiskey’s departure, Von der Ahe used 12 managers from 1894-96, including a record eight in 1895. Von der Ahe even named himself the team manager on three separate occasions, compiling an unimpressive 3-14 record.

“It appears ‘Der Boss’ was only able to get along with himself for two days,” the Sporting News noted in its May 16, 1896 edition after Von der Ahe managed the club for just two games.

As manager, Von der Ahe would wear binoculars to better observe his players, and annoyed the players by frequently blowing a whistle to draw their attention. His batting advice was limited to frequently shouting “Gif it a bost. Gif it a hard bost.”[44]

In August 1894, catcher/manager George “Calliope” Miller would get a brief respite from managing the club after the Phillies scored eight runs in a single inning, including four unearned runs scored following a Miller throwing error. Irate, Von der Ahe called for his official scorer, Harry Martin.

“Why didn’t you go down there and kick the manager out of the game?” Von der Ahe asked. “Should I do everything around here? Is it up to me to manage these lousy low-lifers?”

Bewildered, Martin said, “But I am only the official scorer, Mr. Von der Ahe. I am no manager.”

“Well then from now on you are the manager too. You go down and tell that Calliope feller, that good for nothing mum, to get the hell out of my park and you sit on the bench and tell them what to do.”

Left with no other choice, Martin went down to the bench and managed the team in place of Miller, who was perfectly content to give Martin the job for the remainder of the losing effort. The next day, Martin and Miller would resume their regular duties[45].

Incredibly, things would grow even worse during the Browns’ 1895 season. After leading the team to a measly 11-28 record in 1895, Joe Quinn, the third Browns manager of that season, quit in frustration. To replace him, Von der Ahe hired Lou Phelan, a local saloon keeper and bookie who just happened to be married to the sister of Von der Ahe’s girlfriend, Della Wells.

The media immediately declared the hire what it was – nepotism.

“When it was suggested to Chris that he would do well to secure as manager a man with some ability and reputation in the base ball world, he looked on the plan with favor and promised to sleep on it,” the August 17, 1895 edition of the Sporting News reported. “Upon his arrival at Sportsman’s Park the next morning, Von der Ha! Ha! announced that ‘the old woman wanted Lou and I got to give it to him, don’t I?’”

The same article would note that Phelan “knows nobody in the base ball world and nobody in the business knows him.”

Phelan promised to learn the game, but wasn’t especially successful, leading the club to an 11-30 mark. After the season, Phelan was replaced by Henry Diddlebock, and never again worked in professional baseball.

WOMANIZING AND DISGRACE

Managers weren’t the only relationships with which Von der Ahe struggled.

One summer day in 1885, Von der Ahe crashed his carriage in front of his home. When Mrs. Emma Von der Ahe looked out the window, she saw Von der Ahe emerge from the crash with his afternoon date, Ms. Kittey Dewey. When Dewey dared to appear at Sportsman’s Park a few weeks later, Emma hit her on the head with a soda bottle[46]. On another embarrassing occasion, Emma answered the door one day to discover a man who had come to confront Von der Ahe for dating his wife[47].

In 1896, Von der Ahe’s affair with the family housekeeper convinced Emma to sue for divorce. Von der Ahe had promised the housekeeper, Anna Keiser, that he would marry her, but instead married Della Wells, settling with the housekeeper on breach of promise charges[48]. The marriage to Wells would go no better. After Von der Ahe sued her mother for $60 back rent and later evicted her from the apartment he had leased to her, he would file for divorce from Della in December 1897, citing her neglect, physical abuse, and overspending[49]. In Von der Ahe’s letter to Wells informing her of his decision, he described the act as a “release,” as though he were firing a player[50].

While Von der Ahe’s turbulent relationships provided plenty of fodder for local gossips, nothing compared to Von der Ahe’s rivalry with Mark Baldwin, which included multiple arrests, Von der Ahe’s kidnapping, and eventually contributed to the end of the Boss President’s ownership of the Browns.

By the time Baldwin signed with the Pittsburgh Alleghenys in 1890, he already had earned Von der Ahe’s ire for helping to recruit Charles Comiskey, Tip O’Neill and Yank Robinson to the Players League the previous year. Two days after signing with Pittsburgh, Baldwin went to St. Louis and successfully convinced star pitcher Silver King to join him in the National League[51].

Irate, Von der Ahe consulted with his attorneys and had Baldwin arrested while he was still in St. Louis. Baldwin spent 24 hours in jail before the case was thrown out, but as Baldwin left the courtroom, Von der Ahe had him arrested once again. These charges eventually were dropped as well, but the arrests led Baldwin to file a malicious prosecution and false imprisonment lawsuit against Von der Ahe in Philadelphia.

With Von der Ahe spending most of his time in St. Louis, the case didn’t proceed until one year later, when Von der Ahe visited Pittsburgh to watch his team play the newly-minted Pirates, who now were officially named for their tendency to pilfer players. As J. Thomas Hetrick describes it in Chris Von der Ahe and the St. Louis Browns, Baldwin and a deputy sheriff approached Von der Ahe in the press box, where “Baldwin looked his enemy right in the eye to inform him he would not be seeing the game. The deputy sheriff grabbed the startled Chris and announced he was under arrest for ordering the false imprisonment of Baldwin in St. Louis.” Pittsburgh club president William Nimick paid Von der Ahe’s bond to get the Boss President out of jail.

After two appeals, Von der Ahe was ordered to pay Baldwin $2,525, but he refused. He also failed to repay Nimick. Determined to be repaid, Nimick hired a private detective, and hatched a scheme to bring Von der Ahe back to Pittsburgh to face justice. When Von der Ahe arrived at the St. Nicholas Hotel in response to a lunch invitation from “Robert Smith,” he was handcuffed and taken by train to the Allegheny County Jail. After initially fighting his kidnappers, Von der Ahe gathered what little dignity he had left en route to his destination[52].

Von der Ahe’s drama somehow grew even worse in 1898, as a fire broke out during an April game, burning the $62,000 stadium to ashes. Though fortunate that no one was killed, more than 100 people were injured, including some who leapt from the grandstand to escape the flames. Von der Ahe, who lived above the saloon and had lost many of his personal belongings, was inconsolable in the aftermath[53].

Rather than moving the remainder of the series to Chicago, the Browns worked through the night to prepare the stadium for the next day’s game. Browns pitcher “Kid” Carsey, who had been awake past midnight helping to rebuild the ballpark, showed obvious fatigue in a 14-1 Browns loss.

For Von der Ahe, who already had lost significant sums when the real estate market turned south during the economic depression of the 1890s, the lawsuits that followed the fire effectively ended his ownership of the St. Louis Browns. On August 10, the courts placed the Browns under the control of Benjamin Muckenfuss, and Von der Ahe left for Illinois, where he married Anna Kaiser[54].

In December, the Mississippi Valley Trust Company filed a foreclosure suit against the Sportsman’s Park Club Association for the costs of the ballpark’s reconstruction, and asked the court for the right to sell the club[55]. The team eventually was sold to the owner of the Cleveland Spiders, Frank DeHaas Robison, who then moved all of his Spiders players to play in the larger St. Louis market and sent the Browns to Cleveland. With a team comprised of the former St. Louis Browns, the 1899 Spiders won just 20 of 154 games, the worst mark in major league history. Opposing teams refused to travel to Cleveland, as their cut of the ticket revenue failed to cover expenses, and the team was disbanded the following year as the National League went from 12 to eight teams.

With his health and finances in poor shape, Von der Ahe filed for bankruptcy in 1908, listing $200 in total assets[56]. To stay afloat, he relied upon the generosity of others, including his former first baseman/manager Charles Comiskey, and Charles Spink, the publisher of the Sporting News. Spink organized a benefit game between Von der Ahe’s former club, now known as the Cardinals, and the new American League Browns. In promoting the game, which would raise more than $5,000, the St. Louis Globe-Democrat reported on Von der Ahe’s accomplishments in making baseball the top game in the nation – and in St. Louis[57].

Von der Ahe passed away on June 5, 1913 of dropsy and cirrhosis of the liver. Comiskey paid for Von der Ahe’s funeral, and in his eulogy declared his former boss “the grandest figure baseball has ever known.”[58] Von der Ahe was buried beneath a statue of himself that he had commissioned when he was 34 and placed in front of Sportsman’s Park[59].

In 2016, Von der Ahe was named one of 10 finalists for the 2016 Pre-Integration Committee ballot at the National Baseball Hall of Fame. None of the finalists were selected, but at the time of this publication, it remains possible that Von der Ahe could one day be recognized with a place in the Hall of Fame.

“Chris Von de Ahe is the 19^th-century George Steinbrenner, so maybe if and when the latter gets in, a strong case might be made for the former,” official Major League Baseball historian John Thorn said[60].

If nothing else, Von der Ahe stands as one of the great characters in American baseball history, standing out in an era when the game was filled with colorful personalities. His messy personal life and the humiliating way in which he was forced from the game has made people forget his innovations, but it can be argued that no one in baseball history did more to help make it a sport for the common people. Not only did Von der Ahe help baseball find its foothold in American culture, but under his leadership, baseball finally found its place in St. Louis, and one of the premier franchises in baseball history was born.

Enjoy this post? Please consider purchasing a copy of my book, The Trades That Made The St. Louis Cardinals!

Bibliography

Achorn, E. (2013). The Summer of Beer and Whiskey: How Brewers, Barkeeps, Rowdies, Immigrants, and a Wild Pennant Fight Made Baseball America’s Game. New York: PublicAffairs.

Egenriether, R. (n.d.). Chris Von der Ahe: Baseball’s Pioneering Huckster. Retrieved from Society of American Baseball Research Journals Archive: http://research.sabr.org/journals/chris-von-der-ahe-baseballs-pioneering-huckster

Hetrick, J. T. (1999). Chris Von der Ahe and the St. Louis Browns. Clifton, Va.: Pocol Press.

Kelly, M. (n.d.). Chris Von der Ahe – A Magnate for Success. Retrieved from Baseball Hall of Fame: http://baseballhall.org/hall-of-famers/pre-integration/von-der-ahe-chris

Kittel, J. (n.d.). Chris Von der Ahe and the Creation of Modern Baseball: A Hall of Fame Argument. Retrieved from This Game of Games: St. Louis Baseball in the 19th Century: http://www.thisgameofgames.com/chris-von-der-ahe-and-the-creation-of-modern-baseball.html

McKenna, B. (n.d.). Mark Baldwin. Retrieved from Society of American Baseball Research: http://www.sabr.org/bioproj/person/41f65388

Morris, P. (n.d.). Lou Phen. Retrieved from Society for American Baseball Research: http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/fa9a327b

Solzman, D. (2015, January 7). Chris Von der Ahe: The Hall of Fame Case. Retrieved from Redbird Rants: http://redbirdrants.com/2015/01/08/chris-von-der-ahe-hall-fame-case

[1] Achorn, E. (2013)

[2] Kittel, J. (n.d.)

[3] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[4] Kittel, J. (n.d.)

[5] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[6] Kittel, J. (n.d.)

[7] Kittel, J. (n.d.)

[8] Kittel, J. (n.d.)

[9] Hetrick, J.T. (1999) and Kelly, M. (n.d.)

[10] Achorn, E. (2013)

[11] Achorn, E. (2013)

[12] Achorn, E. (2013)

[13] Achorn, E. (2013)

[14] Kelly, M. (n.d.)

[15] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[16] Achorn, E. (2013)

[17] Egenriether, R. (n.d.)

[18] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[19] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[20] Kittel, J. (n.d.)

[21] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[22] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[23] Kelly, M. (n.d.)

[24] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[25] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[26] Hetrick, J.T. (1999) and Achorn, E. (2013)

[27] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[28] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[29] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[30] Achorn, E. (2013)

[31] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[32] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[33] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[34] Egenriether, R. (n.d.)

[35] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[36] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[37] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[38] Achorn, E. (2013)

[39] Achorn, E. (2013)

[40] Achorn, E. (2013)

[41] Achorn, E. (2013)

[42] Achorn, E. (2013)

[43] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[44] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[45] Egenriether, R. (n.d.)

[46] Achorn, E. (2013)

[47] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[48] Egenriether, R. (n.d.)

[49] Egenriether, R. (n.d.)

[50] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[51] McKenna, B. (n.d.)

[52] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[53] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[54] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[55] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[56] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[57] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[58] Egenriether, R. (n.d.)

[59] Hetrick, J.T. (1999)

[60] Solzman, D. (2015)

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