The Summer of '44

[Leglaen]

Hello all! This is an OOTP 8 dynasty, but for now it is simply going to be an exploration of the events which happened in that fateful summer of 1944. [Obvious literary license goes to David Halberstam for his excellent Summer of '49, the scattered memories of which are present in this poor man's fictional form.] For those who wonder, I was the GM of the Boston Braves in this dynasty. So without further ado...

The Summer of '44

It was the summer when American boys finally hit the shores of France…the summer that saw the destruction of an entire Nazi Army Gruppe…the summer of Bing Crosby’s Going My Way...and the summer which saw a fierce see-saw battle between two baseball teams culminate in a passionate ending the likes of which only Rodgers and Hammerstein could dream of.

It was the summer of Frank Sinatra’s film debut, and the last, great pennant race of the war years.

It was the summer in which the career of a budding star was dashed against the wind and where his teammates added luster to their glory…it was the summer where a dynasty was born…it was the summer of an ageing veteran’s last chance to grasp the trophy…
It was the summer of ’44.
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When Spring Training began, the defending National League champion Boston Braves were only starting to peek out of their cracked shell and were attempting to reconcile two apparently paradoxical problems. Who on earth would replace Max Lanier, winner not only of 27 games the previous season but the first pitcher in years to win the coveted pitching Triple Crown? Lanier had completed his labor at the grist mill of the Boston press corps, and had left on extremely bitter terms with several of the reporters. These same reporters who had been so quick to canonize Max prior to the 1943 World Series were just as agile in ripping the star pitcher to shreds after his 3 losses in the Series, especially following the deciding Game 7 defeat, where Lanier gave up more walks than in the previous 2 games combined.

“It wasn’t the same without Max. He had always brought a kind of stability to the clubhouse. When he was there it was as if nothing would go wrong. That’s why the Series was so shocking to us. We were as much in the dark as any Bostonian,” relayed young pitching recruit Howie Pollet, whose 12-6 record had been gained as much by the Braves offense as by any innate talent on Howie’s part.

“Some people said he and Walk [Walker Cooper, the Braves’ backup catcher] had been real close, you know, and when the rookie came in and stole Walk’s spot…well…they said Max didn’t like that too much. Said he and Walk were out on the town before that final game” recollected reliever Joe Sullivan.

“Naw, don’t tell me people just have bad games…and Max had three bad games in a row. A guy wins 27 games, he doesn’t have three bad ones in a row. He just doesn’t. Something fishy was going on. You don’t take 111 wins to the Series and lose in 7. You just don’t.” said Johnny Beazley, the opposing Cleveland Indians starter in Game 7. “I could tell something was wrong. If you’ve pitched as much as I have, you start to know how pitching looks. And that…well that wasn’t pitching.”

Regardless of the multiple theories behind Lanier’s Series performance, the fact of the matter was that the Braves’ tightfisted owner, Robert Quinn, wouldn’t allow for any loosening of the purse strings. For a team that had finished in the cellar just 5 years ago and whose fans (few as they were) didn’t expect anything more, this was not a problem. But for a team who had jumped from 5th in 1940 to 1st in 1941 (winning the pennant on the last day in a dramatic winner-takes-all finale against the Brooklyn Dodgers) and won the Series for the first time since 1914, the efforts to keep the budding baby Braves were strenuous.

At least they should have been strenuous. After all, the Braves had jumped onto the scene with Series victories in ’41 and a repeat in ’42, only to be thwarted at the last by the Indians in 1943. If the “other” Boston team was to regain its place in the baseball sun, 1944 would have to be the year. After all, didn’t the Athletics win 3 Series? Weren’t they considered a dynasty? Of course, no one would reach the exalted heights of Bronxdom…but with the tight financial restrictions placed on the Braves by Quinn and co., manager Bob Coleman and his General Manager were always in dire straits, scrambling to equip a team as if they were some ancient feudal knight whose vassals wouldn’t pay up.

So, the departure of Max Lanier in the offseason was one devastating loss…and his loss was the main hole that the Braves needed to fill. But in the eyes of the Boston media, Lanier was a traitor, eventually jumping ship and plying his trade with the Washington Senators, where he gained a cult following not seen since the days of Walter Johnson. So many fans started to adore him that one junior Boston reporter coined the phrase “Lanier’s Losers”, and as so often happens, it stuck.

But what of the other critical piece that had been ripped from the jigsaw puzzle?

[Leglaen]

No one on earth would stoop to vilify Bobby Doerr, the Braves’ second baseman, who was one of the kindest gentlemen you would ever see in the clubhouse and off the field and was possessed of a self-effacing personality. However, Bobby also was able to retain the needed maturity, leadership, and grit on the field.

Ever since his birth in California, the middle infielder wanted to play in the majors, and finally got his chance in 1938 after a scout from the Red Sox saw him playing for the Hollywood Stars and immediately wired to Boston with an urgent request to sign the 19 year old. So, for $75,000, Bobby Doerr began his long and winding career in the majors.

Doerr’s first two years in the Red Sox organization saw him gain the starting spot at second and perform extremely well. “I didn’t have much of a chance to rest once I got there, but after the trade I really forgot how difficult earning your place in the lineup was.” Doerr said in an interview years afterwards.

“It was as if I’d entered a whole different universe. The Red Sox were all about winning, and there was a real sense of shame and guilt if we didn’t perform. The first day I came in to the Braves clubhouse there was a fight between Max West and Danny [Fern Bell]. ” he recalled. “Mr. Coleman and I had a chat about the atmosphere and his plans for change. I sensed he really wanted for us to go places, and that he needed me to show these guys how to think the game, not just play it. We changed in 1940. Not ‘cause of me, but everything just changed.”

On January 5, 1940, the Boston Red Sox and the Boston Braves completed part one of their-to this day-infamous trading scheme. Although everything was above-board, the Red Sox fans were noticeably disappointed at the time to only receive three good players for their hopeful phenom. “Braves tie up Sox in knots” went one pithy headline.

[Leglaen]

But Doerr was only the first to change his tune in that fateful year.

In the Boston of June 1940, there were two kind of baseball fans: those who supported the Red Sox, and everyone else. Surprisingly, the three players given to the Sox by the Braves 6 months before had become an integral part of the Boston lineup, especially Bama Rowell, who endured months of torment upon replacing Doerr at second. Fans were lining up outside Fenway daily to root for their heroes, and led by the Kid, Ted Williams, the Sox were charging up the standings and only 2 games behind the hated Yankees.

Then, everything was turned upside down. Ask any American where they were when they heard the news of the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and they will tell you the exact spot. Ask any Bostonian where they were when they heard about the “Trade”, and they will take you to the spot.

June 16, 1940. At 3 o’clock in the afternoon, a sudden news bulletin went out across radios and teletype: Ted Williams had been traded to the Boston Braves for 7 players. Never mind the fact that these 7 players were to play pivotal roles in the Red Sox’s pennant attempt. Never mind that pitcher Jim Tobin would go on to win 12 games with an ERA under 3 for the Sox.
The outrage over this single event has sparked numerous autobiographies, fueled umpteen scandal-infused films and books, and caused more allegations of underhanded deals than any sporting event since the Black Sox Scandal.

What caused Red Sox owner Tom Yawkey to give the greatest player in the game to the cross-town cellar dwellers? Did Yawkey’s legendary generosity make him snap? What about the alleged late-night phone calls on June 14th from Brian Quinn’s office to Yawkey’s home? What role do the rumors of a disruption in the Red Sox dugout between manager Joe Cronin and Williams play? Opinions have ranged from the absurd to the well-founded, including several handsomely documented historical essays [Ed. See Bibliography for a list of pertinent works].

In any event, the Braves captured the greatest left fielder of his day in Ted Williams, yet their 1940 season would end in a disappointing 5th place. Struck by discord in the clubhouse between the “old guard” of Braves whose ability to catch firecrackers outweighed their ability to catch baseballs in contrast to the new leadership of Doerr, manager Coleman, and tacit support from Teddie Ballgame, the Braves provided continual ammunition for any rookie journalist.

Then, all of that changed.