The INNOCENCE of BASEBALL

Professional sports are ugly. They're a big business full of egos and corruption. They sell a product based on lies. The saddest part are the kids who follow the sports and the "stars" who are overpaid and too often void of basic moral standards. It's not going to change no matter who they point the finger at. It's a business and it's sad.

All of this of course says nothing about the actual sports. The sports can still be played for fun and not profit, their purest form. But let's admit that even Little League games can be full of ego and ugly behavior, mostly by the parents who themselves have forgotten it's just a game and for some reason see their kid out on the field as a victim or, in some maniacal way, playing at the level of the "show."

Here we have a group of guys, probably sometime after 1911, who formed a team.


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I'm curious about the two players dressed in uniforms. Were they on pro teams and just playing a pickup game with these guys? We'll never know because there's no information written on the back. They look like old fashioned baseball cards. I once worked for a fellow who bought a Honus Wagner card with Wayne Gretzky. I think it was at that moment I understood that some ephemera could be worth a lot of money; just a simple piece of paper.



And the only way I dated this image was by looking at the logo on the bat on the left. It was made by J. F. Hillerich & Sons in Louisville, Kentucky, famous for making the Louisville Slugger.



Whenever I find vintage photos of baseball “teams” they’re always adults; I never find photos of kids with teammates. This isn’t to say I don’t find them with the tools of baseball. In one of my maternal grandfather’s class photos he is holding a baseball glove sometime around 1910. I never saw this photo until after he'd passed so I never got to hear stories of the games he played.

The HOME TEAM

These fellows are from the same page as all the previous young ladies from Bill and Dick's Excellent Adventure album. I do not see either Bill or Dick in this shot, but then I'm not always really good at spotting them.


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As to the purpose of this gathering...haven't a clue. Well, that's not completely true. I did find this odd object in the hand of one fellow. Part of a baseball bat? Any guesses?

And now gentlemen, time for some of your close-ups.

If nothing else, they're men in hats.

SUMMERTIME: Part 10

Summertime is being able to go outside and enjoy the weather and the long afternoons before the sun sets.

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Tomorrow: hang out the sign that says...

SUMMERTIME: Part 9

Summertime is going to a baseball game and enjoying yourself whether your team wins or not.

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This weeks Sepia Saturday theme seems to be a blushing romance and dare I say it, hoping to get to first base? Since I’m still working on my summertime theme (if that’s what you want to call it) I’ll have to say the only romance in my shot is for those who are truly enamored with baseball.

I’m okay with baseball. I’m not big on watching sports of any kind, but I have been to a few professional baseball games in my life.

For anyone who has read this blog for the past few years you may remember this photo being shown once before when a friend called and said, “Meet me at the ferry on Wednesday. We’re going to a Giant’s game.” I did enjoy it. I don’t remember which team won, but I LOVED the park. I mean really LOVED the park with its views of the San Francisco bay.

This photo comes from the Bill and Dick Excellent Adventure album. I have featured a variety of photos from this album the past few years.

As you can see from the handwriting at the bottom, this was taken in Portland Oregon sometime around or after 1916. I have no idea the name of the team. I do know there are a heck of a lot of straw boaters in the stands.

As to the other words at the bottom, Mazie King…take a listen (open this link in an additional window) and try to sit still. Is it not the perfect tune to go along with this image? It all becomes a silent movie with the actors about to come to life at any moment.

As to who was Mazie King and why is her name on the photo? Well, I believe the curly haired woman in the foreground IS Mazie King. Take a look at this photo and tell me if you think it's the same woman. From what I've been able to find she was a dancer and appeared on Broadway and in vaudeville.

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UPDATE: Thanks to readers I can add the information given below in comments into the actual post.

From WYJ in regards to the baseball team: The team would be the Portland Beavers of the Pacific Coast League. There have been several versions of the team over the years. The latest was evicted by the city in 2010 so the stadium could be used by a MSL soccer franchise.

From Anyjazz in regards to Mazie: Yes, that's her. According to Wiki, "The Passing Show" was a music and dance revue staged annually from about 1894 on. From 1912 to 1924 it played on Broadway in New York. Mazie King was probably in it as a "Toe Dancer."

Thank you!

Tomorrow or possibly the next day or the next: more summertime

Take me out to the ball game AGAIN!

What a stunning ballpark it was. I didn't care who won. I was entranced with the colors, the sounds, and the view of the bay on such a beautiful day. Everything was perfect and I'd do it all again in a moment. Still don't care about baseball, but sitting in that park could be addictive.

Here's to those who found the same joy so long ago. A chance to step back in time thanks to vernacular photograhy.

HOT DOGS or California cuisine?

A friend called me on Monday and said, "Meet me at the ferry on Wednesday. We're going to a Giant's game." Okie dokie. I haven't been to a baseball game in over 30 years and I know nothing about anything about the game. I do know I can yell "Batter! Batter! Batter!" which is what a friend in Colorado recommended. I recall yelling "Kill the ump!'" at the last game I was at, but imagine now that little ditty might get me put on a Homeland Security list. Instead of taking along a verbal repertoire, or notes written on my arm of witty baseball sayings or stats, I'll just sit there and smile and enjoy the sun (must remember to pack aspirin), the crowd (must remember to pack Purel), the noise (must remember to pack earplugs), and try to decide do I eat traditional ballpark food, including the dreaded bright yellow ballpark mustard (please tell me they have Dijon), or try something leaning towards California cuisine. Okay, I'm hoping they have some sort of vegetables other than fries. Being which city this is there is bound to be some sort of rice and vegetable dish. I told you I know nothing about baseball. I'm already thinking about the food.

I do like the idea of baseball, just not the enormity of what it's become. When there was a farm team located in my county I used to think it would be a lot of fun to go out for a summer evening in a small park and watch the boys of summer play while I relaxed. But then I have images of the films Bull Durham and Field of Dreams dancing in my head when I think of baseball. Simpler times.

I present to you some boys of summer from the early part of the last century. I have no information about them. They were playing the sport because they loved it, not because they'd get enough cash to buy a hideous monstrous house, drugs, jewelry, and fast cars. These guys were probably lucky if they knew someone who had a car that ran. And that's perfect. I'll be searching for that innocence tomorrow, but doubt I'll find it unless I see it in the eyes of a child. 

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And to just get me in the mood, I want to hear John Fogerty sing the song that could almost make me a baseball fan.