“No, guys, I’m trying to tell ya, I’m not very good at baseball. No, stop laughing, that wasn’t a joke!”
~Reverand Aloysius Stanislaus Travers, 1912
Baseball is a paradoxical sport. It has the fewest physical demands, the least physical risk, yet the most high-profile injuries and steroid abusers. It’s suffered strike-shortened seasons, rampant cocaine use, and even Jose Conseco and lived to tell the tale. But, much like medicine, most things in America during the early 20th century were ridiculous. Baseball was no different. 1912 in baseball was full of only-decent-athletes, strange rules, and blatant bigotry.
Mainly the bigotry thing though.
That is how one of the biggest racist best baseball player of All-Time helped a future Reverend who couldn’t make it on an amateur baseball team start, and complete, a professional league game. Oh, he got absolutely rocked, absolutely rocked, but it’s still a nice story in America being crazy enough you know better than to fuck with us.
The Forest Whitaker Eyes.