TW Hit List - Al Simmons

“He had a basketful of fun, a wagonload of fame-

But he never was a rooter at a baseball game.”

Al Simmons was born “Aloysius Szymanski.” Why the name change, I have no idea. However, he made his mark in at least two ways: he was another notoriously unfriendly ballplayer (my favorite kind) and he was possibly the best ugly hitter of all time. By ugly, I don’t mean to speak of his countenance or physicality, but rather his swing. He is famous for allegedly stepping away from the plate toward third base (he was a right-handed batter) as he swung and earned the moniker, “Bucketfoot.” Williams claims that his swing was not as awkward as has been made out by historians. However, many historians base their accounts on contemporary testimony. It was noted by reporters and sportswriters, not to mention ballplayers, of the time that his style was not to be commended. Arthur Daley of the New York Times noted that he should have been easily exposed by curves and outside pitches and yet, not only wasn’t he, but he was one of the top clutch-hitters of his day.

Simmons played for 20 seasons and finished with a .334 career average and .915 OPS. He banged out just shy of 3,000 hits and batted in over 1,800 runs. He hit over .380 four times, led the league in batting and hits twice, and won AL MVP honors in 1929. He had eleven consecutive seasons hitting at least .300 with 100 RBIs. These numbers are huge. Surely he is underrated as great hitters go. When he started, Cobb and Ruth were still around, and Foxx took the limelight through most of his prime years. And little doubt that each of those men were bigger draws for the fans. But Simmons was a superstar in his own right. He won the World Series in 1929 and 1930 with Connie Mack’s Philadelphia A’s and said after his career that Mack was one of the finest men he ever knew.

Williams claims that Simmons and Cobb often criticized him for taking too many pitches. Now many, perhaps most, see such a trait in a batter as the virtue of patience, and we’ve mentioned before that Williams was a strong advocate of the idea that one of the keys to hitting is swinging at good pitches. I don’t know how to argue with that, and so I won’t. Yet, I find something viscerally commendable about those old-style hitters who went up there swinging. Cobb and Simmons and their ilk weren’t swinging at bad pitches, but they didn’t let too many balls an inch or two off the plate go by. Perhaps today’s batters have learned greater patience for which reason we see hitting stats higher than historical averages over the last couple decades. It was only the true greats like a Cobb that could put up numbers swinging at pitches others couldn’t hit (think of Vladimir Guerrero, fellow Halo fans). Or perhaps the game just moves in cycles. Or even more likely, the dynamics of the game between pitchers and hitters change in ways and for reasons that the human mind is not fit to perceive. But don’t be troubled. This is yet another reason for our love of the game. What other game reflects the ultimate reality of the interplay between reason and mystery not just in its overall conception, but as seen in each and every individual contest? Each at-bat is a microcosm of each inning. Each inning is a microcosm of each game. Each game is a microcosm of each season. And so that our beloved pastime unfolds in a cascade of images of what’s ultimate in life, while at once picturing a panorama of life’s rhythms. History is linear. It is going somewhere. But we see patterns. We see variations on a theme even as we progress. And baseball alone of all games is capable of capturing this tense harmony. Baseball alone is sport and art, truth and myth, joy in the midst of despair, wonderment in the midst of certainty. And this is life. It is no cliché that baseball mimics life. It is an apt tribute to the best form of re-creation.

“And though the World pitched,
And the Devil played behind,
And the Seven Deadly Sins were alive,
In the field;"

TW Hit List - Tris Speaker

Tris Speaker, the “Gray Eagle.” One of my all-time favorites, probably because I have a soft spot for the overlooked aspects of life, and Speaker played in the shadow of Ty Cobb most of his career. But those with an appreciation for the history of the game know Mr. Speaker. He was one of the early true greats, a player who could “do it all,” and was apparently universally admired by his contemporaries. He hit for average, smoked extra-base hits, stole bases, and played one of the best centerfields in history. He was famous for playing extraordinarily shallow. His great speed and greater ability to read the ball off the bat allowed him to be as Ruth called him, a “fifth infielder.” Ruth swore he saw Speaker throw out at man at first base from centerfield on several occasions. He holds the record for unassisted double-plays by an outfielder. This ability to cover his position is more remarkable in a day when centerfield fences were often 450’ or greater from home plate.

But he would have made his name on hitting alone. About the only thing he did not do well was hit home runs, but he played his first several years in the so-called “dead-ball” era and was a natural line-drive hitter. But had he cared, I think he would have hit ‘em out as well. But as Williams points out, he held his bat low to protect the plate. And did he! The Gray Eagle had an eagle-eye. He struck out only 220 times in his career. His 46.4 at-bats per strikeout blow away anyone else for his number of games and at-bats. His concern was average and reaching base and as the song might say, when it came to hitting straight and fast, he was mighty good. Speaker only won one batting title, in 1916, when he hit .386. Most years, he was chasing Ty Cobb. But he hit .350 or better nine times and finished with a career .345 average. He walked often, and put up a .428 on-base percentage. His career OPS of .928 was fantastic for a guy who only hit 117 home runs. But he ripped 222 triples and his 792 doubles still stands as the AL record.

The man did all this as a left-handed hitter. But he was born right-handed. He broke his right arm severely as a teenager getting thrown from a horse. He played left-handed from then on. Yes, played, not just batted. In fact, he was a left-handed pitcher in school after his accident! How do you do that? But then, he hurt his left arm playing football. Doc tells him he’d likely have to amputate, but Speaker says that won’t do. His arm heals and he goes on to a Hall of Fame career batting and throwing with his left arm. So, he pitched and hit with his off-arm, he ran the bases and played maybe the best centerfield ever. But he knew the game too. He was made player-manager of the Indians in 1919, and in 1920 he led them to the World Series championship while hitting .324 in the Series.

Williams mentions that he was the epitome of endurance and of the “aristocracy of baseball.” The first is right, but the second? Is baseball aristocratic? Would “Spoke” himself say so? He told Baseball Magazine that “The American boy starts swinging a bat as soon as he can lift one.” Baseball is the uniquely American pastime and is not limited to some class or other. God gives severally as He will, which is why Spoke also said, “It would be useless for any player to attempt to explain successful batting.” So he didn’t. He just hit the cover off the ball and let his play do the explaining.

After ball, he broadcasted games for awhile and when he was announced into the Hall of Fame in 1937, he was running a wholesale liquor business and was chairman of Cleveland’s Boxing Commission. This guy was an outstanding talent, he had an indomitable will, he knew and respected the game, and he was a man of varied interests who served society productively after his playing days. Again, one of my favorites from the past. No aristocrat, he earns his reputation as one of the elite in the history of the sport.