“Baseball is becoming – or, perhaps it would be more correct to say, has become – one of the most popular outdoor games in this province. Not any years ago, it was comparatively unknown in Canada, and the fine old English game of cricket was the one chiefly indulged in by the rising generation for outdoor sport and exercise.”
Hamilton Spectator. June 21, 1878
In the summer of 1878, there was much turmoil in Hamilton baseball circles.
Baseball was still struggling for recognition as a sport worthy of respect and in recognition in Hamilton, and elsewhere, at that time. The sport was regarded by many as a frivolous waste of time, played by and followed by a low class of the city’s population.
Baseball had numerous critics including an editorial writer with the Spectator who gave his opinion that the manner in which baseball games were conducted was unfortunate.
In the editorial appearing in the June 21, 1878 issue of the paper, the editorial writer said “as it is played at the present time, there are some features about it that mitigate seriously against it bing favourably regarded by the public at large, and which must continue to prevent the better class of young men from engaging in it.”
The main object of the Spectator editor’s concern was the unpleasant squabbling which seemed to break out at every game.
The previous Thursday, an argument between a player and an umpire had descended into a disgraceful scene.
As described in the Spectator, “one old hand at the game remarked, ‘Oh, it is alright, the professional clubs kick when they are getting beaten.’ “
The “petty squabbling” over umpire decisions which the editorialist lamented provoked him to call for greater public support for umpires and support for their calls, which called “the most difficult and harassing part of the game” : “according to the rules only one man is put on at a time as umpire, and, as a rule, his decisions are supposed to be impartial to the winning side, and he not infrequently comes in for a large amount of criticism from the losers. His ruling is openly denounced as unfair and it is altogether too common an occurrence for him to be obliged to vacate his position in favour of someone else. All this creates a very unpleasant impression in the minds of lookers-on with regard to the game, and if it is ever to become a popular sport in the best sense of the word something must be done to do away with these disgraceful scenes.”
During a stretch of very hot weather in July, 1878, the baseball season of Hamilton’s home team, the Standards, was not doing very well, both on the field and at the attendance gate.
Not only were the Standards losing game after game, the team had the “pleasure of being the focus of abuse for the pages of the Guelph Mercury, quoted in the Spectator on July 24, 1878.
After a Guelph Maple Leafs’ victory over the Hamilton Standards, an article in the Guelph Mercury read as follows : “Hamilton sits in sack cloth and ashes, and all the ambition has been battered out of the Ambitious City by the Maple Leaf bats. Hamilton faces are eighteen inches long. A run on Hamilton mourning goods dealers set in Saturday night, and the mourners went down to the Ocean House Sunday, and forgot their grief, for the moment, in the effects of exhilarating baths outside and inside.”
A humorous break in an otherwise depressing season for Hamilton baseball fans was provided by the Fat Man’s Exhibition Game, played on the ball diamond at the Crystal Palace Grounds.
Pitting a team of heavyweights from Guelph, a local side of stout Hamiltonians, called the Dreadnaughts, were the opponents. A Spectator reporter in attendance described the game as follows : “the players came rolling into the ground covered with fat and foolishness, and staggered out covered with glory – and perspiration.”
Around noon on the day of the game, July 23, 1878, the fat men from Guelph arrived in Hamilton, “with a great flourish of trumpets” as described by the Spectator reporter. “They came in two cabs drawn by four horses each. They put up at the American, and after a short rub down, ordered beef tea, burgoo, and other nourishing food.”
A real showman, whose base-running was a hit with those in attendance at the game, was a player named “Brewer” Cook who topped the scales at 345 pounds. The Spec reporter noted that Cook “actually flew over the ground, like a gay gazelle, frequently varying his motions with handsprings, which produced yells of applause.”
Another base runner in the Fat Man’s Game was a man named Cameron who seemed to be suffering from the intense heat, “tearing along till his buttons exploded like small torpedoes, leaving him a panting wreck by the time he reached home plate.”
It was another losing afternoon for a Hamilton baseball team. The Hamilton reporter at the game noted that “the home nine did not distinguish itself, we are sorry to say. They made a grand splurge, but up to the last few innings, a very plucky surge.”
Some of the members of the Hamilton Dreadnaughts were roundly criticized by the Spectator reporter : “Alonzo the Brave scorned to try and stop a ball, and as to catching it, that was simply out of the question. Once he was hit on the head with the ball, which, however, did not injure him much.”
Another Hamilton player, the Spec man complained, could “neither bat, pitch, run, strike, stand still, nor look wise in the field. He had a midnight expression on his face, and looked as if he were prowling around looking for a thief. He had an insane desire to stick to a ball when he got it as if it were handcuffed to him. He also insisted on taking first base on a foul ball which, as everybody knows, is diametrically opposed to the rules of baseball.”
The game ended in a 34 to 17 victory for the Guelph team. Despite some of the absurdities he noted, the Spectator reporter called the Fat Men’s Baseball Game, “a very pleasant and amusing match which ended amicably on all hands.”
The Guelph Herald carried an account of the return of the Geulph Invincibles’ return trip home after the Fat Men’s Game in Hamilton. On the way out of the city, the cab driver decided that the combined weight of six fat baseball players would prove too much for his horse.
When the carriage had to ascend the escarpment up the Guelph road, the driver stopped his carriage, examined his horse carefully and then “pronounced him in a frightful state of illness – with three feet in the grave so to speak.”
The fat baseball players irritated at the delay and the possibility of being stuck where they were, at length were persuaded to get out of the carriage and walk up the hill.
The fat baseball players irritated at the delay and the possibility of being stuck where they were, at length were persuaded to get out of the carriage and walk up the hill.
According to the Guelph Mercury, “the rig went forward briskly, too briskly for a sick horse, and it was not until those fleshy people had toiled half way up the mountain that they tumbled to the fact that they had been sold.”
The cab driver made them walk so that his horse would be spared the exertion of attempting to pull such a group of heavyweights up such a steep, and long, grade!
The very next day following the Fat Men’s Games, another exhibition game was scheduled with the Hamilton Standards set to play the Worcesters, a professional team from the U.S.A.. In promoting this game, the Spectator sports writer anticipated that “there should be a large attendance, as the Standards are determined to do what they can do to defeat a professional team, and will stoutly contest the game.”
Unfortunately, the large crowd did not materialize for the game. The gates receipts for the exhibition match were a mere six dollars.
After the game, President Stewart of the Hamilton Standards was asked if rumours were correct that the team could be disbanded if attendance did not rise substantially to cover expenses.
“Certainly, it is quite true,” he replied. “I am not going to keep up a team here to play for the edification of the roughs of Hamilton. I was there today trying to keep them out, but they came swarming in in all directions. When I go to the directors for help, they refuse. I am $200 out of pocket now, and I won’t put up any longer. I had to pay the guarantee to the Worcesters today out of my own pocket. When I went around among the directors to get some money, they only laughed at me. I’ve got to do everything, and I won’t put it with it any longer.”
As for the game on the field, the Standards played well but lost, 3-2. The game was marked by some excellent pitching, hitting and fielding, “perhaps the finest exhibition of baseball ever witnessed in Hamilton,” noted the Spectator.
The day following the game, a letter to the Editor of the Spectator was printed, in which the writer, using the pseudonym Admirer, lamented the poor patronage of baseball in Hamilton :
“At the Fat Man’s Match a few days ago, I noticed a greater number of our high class personages in attendance than would probably be seen in a month at first class games. Probably they have the excuse that they would see more fun with novices than with players who understand the game. It may be that they think baseball is such a ‘mean’ game that if they attended it would demolish their good character for all time to come. Now, be that as it may, the games of yesterday and today have fully proven that we have as good material (and honourable at that) as there is to be found in the country. Our little nine have shown that they can play creditably enough with even the best professionals. What they want to ensure success is an incentive in the shape of good attendance, which, I am sorry to say, has always been denied hem here. If the Standards were properly patronized, and were thus shown that the citizens had an interest (and why shouldn’t they, as in other western towns?) in their succeeding, it would, without doubt, stimulate them to ‘aim high.’ I am not a baseball player, nor have I any connection whatever with any club, but I have always sympathized with the efforts the Standards have made to represent Hamilton well at this popular game. They are now in a better shape than ever, and I sincerely hope the citizens will give them such encouragement in future as will enable them to sustain their reputation as one of the best amateur nines in the Dominion,”
The letter from Admirer was too little, too late for the management of the Standards Baseball Club.
The next day, an announcement was made in the Hamilton newspapers that the team had been disbanded.
The Spectator, in announcing the demise of the Standards took the opportunity of expounding on the state of the sport of baseball in the city of Hamilton, lamenting that “it must be remembered that neither a professional, semi-professional, nor expensive amateur, team can be sustained in Hamilton.”
In comparing the state of baseball in Hamilton with that in London and Guelph, the Spectator speculated that perhaps Hamilton’s geographical location beside Burlington bay had a pronounced effect : “the principal cause why field sports are not more liberally supported lies in the fact of our proximity to one of the most magnificent sheets of water which any city possess on this continent. Burlington bay and the lake beyond not only afford excellent opportunities for aquatic exercises, which are largely taken advantage of, but it also provides thousands of our citizens enjoyment in the summer months.”
The Hamilton Times in an article on the demise of the Standards stated its belief that one reason for the lack of attendance at games was the presence of the “roughs” who go to the games and make offensive remarks to the umpire when decisions went against the home club.
In response, the Spectator rebuked its rival newspaper for its remarks : “clubs visiting Hamilton can always get as fair play as anywhere else; the manifestations of chagrin on the part of a few little boys are nothing more than may be heard on any baseball field. Of course, even to this ought to be stopped, and if the Times baseball reporter – who is somewhat noted in this connection – would only set the example some good might result.”
