April 18, 1905
Oaks Ballpark
The stadium was brand new, and it still looked and smelled like it. The railings were freshly painted in an attractive dark green shade, and from the third base end of the grandstand all the way around to the first base side, they were draped with bunting. Every so often, a small Pennsylvania state flag was tucked into the bunting, almost inviting a rooter to pluck it out and wave it.
According to the
Gazette, the weather was supposed to be warm, and by early afternoon, there was every reason to believe the prediction was a good one.
David Herndon unbuttoned his jacket as he stood at the grandstand railing, not far from home plate. He'd been walking around the stands, greeting people along the way, thanking them for coming out to see the Oaks on the Opening Day of their new ball park.
The owner had managed to persuade the headmaster of Kenilworth Academy to give the students a half holiday to celebrate Opening Day.
John Manning was a base ball fan, so it wasn't a hard sell, and Manning, his wife
Katherine, and their four small children, were already in their seats behind first base. More than a few of the Academy students were here, too, gathered in groups, talking and laughing, waiting for something interesting to happen on the field.
The Oaks began their season with a two-week road trip. They lost two at Easton, but recovered to sweep a four-game set at Hershey, who were supposed to be the class of the Keystone League. At Lancaster, where the Red Roses were off to the best start in the league, the Oaks lost two of three, but both were spellbinding 4-3 decisions. The journey ended at Harrisburg, where the teams split four games.
Manager
Hal Perry was pleased with the result of the road trip. He told the
Gazette, "It wasn't easy, starting out away from home like that, but we won more than we lost, and we are coming home in first place." Indeed, the Oaks' 7-6 record was good enough to give them a half-game lead over Easton and Allentown in the Independence Division.
The fans cheered as the Oaks came out to warm up.
Ping Davis grinned and softly tossed a baseball to an eight-year-old boy who stood at the railing. The barrel-chested first baseman had every reason to be happy. He'd hit three home runs and driven in 12 runs already, taking the sting out of the fact his batting average was 50 points below his weight.
Along the third base side, Oaks pitcher
Russ Lloyd was warming up, pitching to reserve catcher
David Hernandez. Lloyd, a righthander with a decent fastball and a tricky knuckle curve, was today's starting pitcher. All four of the Oaks' front-line starters had pitched well; Lloyd's 3.18 ERA was the highest among them. As a group of young rooters watched from the railing, Lloyd threw a particularly nasty knuckler that Hernandez, grinning, could only swat at as it went past him.
Today's opponents, the Bethlehem Steelers, had been struggling. Their 3-10 record was the poorest in the league. But
Buddy DeCarlo, who had pitched them to two of their wins, was pitching, and any team had a chance to win with him on the mound.
By 2:05, the grandstand was as full as it was going to get. Herndon would have preferred a full house, but it was a Tuesday, after all.
Hal Perry filled out his lineup card like this:
The game was no classic, but it turned out well. DeCarlo struggled with his command all afternoon long. When
Johnny Kelley led off the fourth by spanking a hanging slider off the center field fence for a triple, the Steelers lefty seemed to lose his poise completely. For some reason, manager
Tony Jones left DeCarlo in the game, and a string of bases on balls and singles put a big white "5" on the scoreboard for the home team. By the time Jones lifted him for a pinch hitter in the top ofthe seventh, DeCarlo had allowed four hits...and eight walks.
Russ Lloyd allowed home runs to
Bob Thorp and
Jack Ellis, but he was otherwise very good, striking out seven Steelers before
Doc Johnson came on to pitch the ninth. Doc recorded an easy save, his fifth of the young season.
After the final out was recorded, on a ground ball to shortstop
Dutch Hawkins,
David Herndon came out of his box and stood at the main gate to the ballpark, thanking the rooters for coming out to the game. He shook hands with
Armando Reyes, who told the owner to come to the café and enjoy a hearty breakfast sometime, on the house.
"I appreciate it, Armando, but I won't let you do that, and you know it," Herndon replied. Herndon was a generous man--perhaps too generous, in the opinion of his accountants--and he was generally well-liked around town.
Today, with a happy crowd of baseball fans returning to their homes for dinner, a late-afternoon sun making it feel much more like spring as they walked or rode (many riding in Kenilworth Carriages, of course) along Monroe Street, the owner could probably have been named the High King of Kenilworth.