#346--THE BASEBALL IMMACULATENESS CAUSATION

It was an overcast misty afternoon in New York City on August 16, 1920. Yankees pitcher Carl Mays (pictured below) was standing on the mound at the Polo Grounds plying his trade against the Cleveland Indians. Mays lobbed a throw at a popular Cleveland batter, shortstop Ray Chapman, and was rewarded with a loud "CRACK" that echoed throughout the stadium.

When the ball dribbled back to Mays from home plate, he threw it to first base. It was then that Mays, the other players, and the thousands of fans realized that the "CRACK" was not generated from Chapman's bat--it had come instead from his skull. Chapman had stood crouched over the plate and did not move a muscle until he was beaned by Mays's pitch. After the pitch, Chapman fell twice while trying unsuccessfully to stagger to first base.

Despite surgery, Chapman died of his head injuries later that night. His pregnant bride was greeted with the news when she stepped off of the train in New York and promptly fainted.

Mays had a well-deserved reputation as an aggressive pitcher, an afficionado of spitballs (which were legal at the time), and a general all-round surly SOB who liked to throw inside at any batter who crowded the plate and who even once heaved the ball at a heckling fan. Most observers, however, believed that the tragedy was a true accident and that Mays did not intend to hit Chapman. The misty afternoon and the soiled tobacco-stained baseball both probably resulted in Chapman simply not seeing the ball. Mays was highly remorseful over the accident and tried to surrender himself to the District Attorney; however, no charges were filed over what has been the only beanball fatality ever in major league baseball.

Mays continued playing the sport. However, notwithstanding having impressive stats, he died in 1971 without ever making the Hall of Fame, no doubt due in part to his normally disagreeable personality and the stigma of pitching the fatal ball to Chapman. 

Nonetheless, Mays did leave a legacy as a result of that dreary and deadly August afternoon. Spitballs are no more, at least not legally. And, during the course of each game, umpires are now constantly throwing in new bright pure-as-the-driven-snow replacement baseballs so that the projectile is always clearly visible to all players. It is believed by those who know these things that this particular concession to baseball hygiene led to higher-scoring games and increased fan interest.

You might also think that this tragedy would have been the impetus for immediate adaption of batting helmets by major league baseball. If so, you would be wrong, as it was decades before there was universal use by batters of protective headgear.

By Harris & Ewing, photographer
[Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons