“Tales From the Cemetery”
With “Cowboy” Matt
Chasco
The Godfather of the
American League
Soooooderblom…
Soooooderblom…
Soooooderblom…
YOU SUCK!
IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT! IT’S ALL YOUR
FAULT!
*Cowbells
Hockey is fun. Period. That being said, I can’t tell you
the pure joy we fans felt when we were a part of that chant against Arvid
Soderblom, goalie of The Rockford Icehogs, the AHL affiliate of the Chicago
Blackhawks. When our Milwaukee Admirals scored against him, it’s a time-honored
tradition to chant the “tendy’s” name, and remind him how bad he is at his job.
A chant is one thing, but what about a song?
European sports fans are really good at this, but it’s nothing new.
During the first World Series in 1903, the “Royal
Rooters” were the travelling cheering section for the American League champion
Boston Americans. Led by the owner of the 3rd Base Saloon Michael T.
“Nuf Ced” McGreevy and included Boston mayor John Fitzgerald (grandfather of
John F. Kennedy), they would sing a song called “Tessie” from the Broadway show
The Silver Slipper to taunt the players of the National League champion
Pittsburgh Pirates, especially their shortstop, the legendary Honus Wagner.
One verse they re-wrote for the occasion went as follows:
Honus, why do you hit so badly?
Take a
back seat and sit down
Honus,
at bat you look so sadly.
Hey, why don't you get out of town?
In 1903, the American League was still “new”, having been
founded in 1900 thanks to the leadership of people like Charles Comiskey (eventual
owner of the Chicago White Sox), Connie Mack (part-owner of the Philadelphia
Athletics) and Poygan, Wisconsin’s own Henry Killilea, the eventual owner of
the Boston Americans. Killilea was already a part-owner of the Milwaukee
Brewers, who were a minor league team at the time. He was an attorney by trade,
but a good college athlete (played football and baseball for the University of
Michigan) and fan of baseball in general. The American League was founded with
a meeting at Killilea’s home here in Milwaukee. There’s even a historic plaque
on the spot where his house used to stand in what is now the parking lot of the
former Milwaukee Journal offices.
Killilea sold his interests in the Brewers (who moved to
St. Louis and went on to become the St. Louis Browns and, eventually, the
Baltimore Orioles) and pumped money into the Americans and got far enough along
to get them to the First World Series, which almost didn’t happen.
You read that right: he
helped found the league, was a pretty good owner, had a great team, and they
almost refused to play.
What happened? A few things.
First of all, the Americans’ contracts only ran through
September 30th, 1903. The World Series was slated to take place in
October. They wanted a contract extension, which Killilea offered. They refused,
because money was left on the table.
Killilea and Pittsburgh
owner Barney Dreyfus agreed to split the ticket revenue 3-1. In simple terms,
the winning team got 75% of the ticket money from the series, and the losers got
25%. Dreyfus vowed to give his share of those gate receipts to his players if
they won. When the Boston players caught wind of this, they asked for the same
treatment, and a contract extension.
Killilea refused and was about to call the series off.
However, after some negotiations, Killilea agreed to give 50% of the team’s share
of the gate receipts to his players and extended their contracts. The Americans
went on to win that first series -a best of nine series- five games to three,
coming back from a 3-1 deficit and winning four games in a row.
But…
It was a rare situation
where the players of the losing team actually earned more money than the
players on the winning team. According to The Sporting News of October
24, 1903, Dreyfus gave his players the full ticket revenue anyway, giving each
player a World Series bonus check of $1,316.00. The Americans got $1,182.00
each.
Killilea himself… got $6,699.00.
While Killilea could be hailed as a “pioneer” in revenue
sharing with his players, let’s face it: he had little choice. He doesn’t
agree, there’s no World Series and the reputation of the league he helped found
would have been in jeopardy. At any rate, he sold his shares in the team in
December 1903 for $150,000 (between roughly $3-4 million in today’s money),
claiming his law business in Milwaukee took up too much of his time. (Fun fact:
during the 1902 season, it was reported that as owner of the Boston Americans,
he only saw six games in Boston.)
Killilea owned part of the Cleveland Naps in 1904 and established
himself as a leading baseball attorney in the following years. In 1928 he
bought the Brewer minor league team here. He died in 1929, leaving his
24-year-old daughter as the owner of the Brewers.
This World
Series-winning baseball owner, and a key character in professional baseball
history, is buried here in Milwaukee, at Historic Calvary Cemetery on Chapel
Hill.
