In 1884 Frank Bancroft’s Providence Grays won the National League pennant and defeated the American Association’s New York Metropolitans in the World Series—the first post-season exhibition to be called the World Series. Late in 1896 he told a reporter for The Boston Post his version of the story of the turning point in that season:
“We were leading the championship race (the Grays were in 2nd place at the time of the game in question). Both (Charles) Sweeney and (Charles “Old Hoss”) Radbourne were pitching in grand style. In those days you couldn’t take a player out of the game and put another one in his place unless he was sick. I wanted to save my pitchers all I could. One day we were playing the Bostons (Bancroft was incorrect; the game was against the Philadelphia Quakers on July 22). I had (Joseph) Cyclone Miller in right field and Sweeney in the box. I told Joe Start, who was captain of the team that if we got far enough ahead in the game to take Sweeney out of the box and bring in Miller. I did this to save Sweeney’s arm. In the sixth inning we had a lead of 7 to 2 (the score was 6 to 2). I told Start to make the change. He asked Sweeney to go out in the field. Sweeney was drunk, but I didn’t know it. Start’s request made Sweeney mad. He didn’t take it in the way it was meant. He walked off the field. I went after him, but couldn’t get him to come back.
“He called me a vile name. The president of the club (J. Edward “Ned” Allen) went to him and asked him what he meant, and he called him everything vile on the calendar. Sweeney was very drunk. We had to finish the game with eight men, and the Bostons [sic] beat us out (Providence lost 10 to 6). The directors of the club had a meeting that night, expelled Sweeney and came within an ace of breaking up. In fact, they did vote to disband.”
With Sweeney gone, the team was left without their two top pitchers. Bancroft had suspended Radbourn earlier in the month, and he was still sitting out at the time—Radbourne was unhappy sharing the pitching duties and was rumored to be heading to the St. Louis Maroons in the Union Association–The Providence Evening Press in describing Sweeney’s July 22 outburst said he had “caught Radbourn’s complaint.”
Picking up the story in The Post, Bancroft said:
“They said there was no use of going on with one pitcher. I said to President Allen: ‘If you will give me authority to tell Radbourne that you will not reserve him at the end of the season, I can get him to pitch all the rest of the games this year.’ ‘All right,’ said Allen, ‘you have that authority.’ I found old Rad at his boarding house. I told him about the proposition. ‘It’s a go,’ said Rad. ‘I’ll get rid of reservation if I lose my arm. I’ll pitch all the other championship games this season.”
Radbourn did not pitch “all the other” games that season but did pitch 75—with 73 complete games, 678 2/3 innings. Bancroft said of his pitcher:
“It was the greatest feat of endurance I ever witnessed. Rad was in awful shape before it was all over…Why, (his arm) hurt him so bad when he would get up in the morning that he couldn’t get it up high enough to fasten his collar button. He had to comb his hair with his left hand. It used to make me shudder to look at him, but he was gritty. He would go out in the afternoon before the game, and instead of loosening up by easy pitching, as pitchers do nowadays, he would go in the field and throw the ball just as far as he could. He would throw for ten or fifteen minutes, until he got wound up, and then he would go in to pitch a winning game.”
Bancroft said the pitcher “could split the plate any time he wanted to,” and that during “morning practice, to show what he could do, Radbourn would set a pop bottle on the home plate and knock it down three out of four times.”
The release of Sweeney had an immediate positive effect on the Grays. On the day of the incident, The Evening Press said: “The pennant is no doubt out of the reach of Providence this year.”
The following day, after Radbourn pitched the team to an 11 to 5 over the New York Gothams, the paper’s outlook brightened:
“The summary expulsion of Sweeney for crookedness seemed to have a salutary effect, on Wednesday, for the purging of the club of such a bad egg resulted in a better class of patrons on the grand stand than for many weeks. The attendance throughout was better than the management had looked for after the airing of Sweeney’s revolt, about 700 being present. “(There were just 450 in the stands the day before for “Sweeney’s revolt”)
Sweeney had not yet left for St. Louis and the paper took the opportunity to take one final shot at the pitcher:
“Sweeney is still about town, and wherever he goes the women whom he escorted to the ball game on Tuesday are seen with him. The conduct of this fellow is shameful, and he will regret it when he fully wakes up to its enormity.”
The twenty-one-year-old Sweeney pitched the Maroons to the Union Association championship with a 24-7 record and 1.83 ERA. Whether his arm couldn’t handle the strain, or as a result of his off-field habits, he would only win 16 more games (losing 30), and was out of the major leagues at age 24.
He returned to his home in California and played for teams in the California, Central California Leagues, after his retirement he worked for a short time as a police officer and later worked in saloons around San Francisco.
By the time Bancroft shared his reminiscences of 1884 with The Post, Sweeney was incarcerated in California, and Radbourne was dying in Illinois.
In July of 1894, Sweeney shot a man named Cornelius McManus during an altercation in a bar. The San Francisco Chronicle said when he was informed the following day that the victim was dead “he broke down and wept bitterly.” Sweeney was convicted of manslaughter four months later and sentenced to eight years.
The Chronicle said he was released after serving “a little over three years of his sentence,” after which “his health broke down.” Sweeney died of Tuberculosis in 1902—most sources say he died on April 4—The Call and The Chronicle both said he died on April 3.
Radbourn pitched 1311 innings in 1883 and ’84, and started and won all three games in the 1884 World Series. Bancroft said that after the Grays won the championship:
“President Allen kept his word, and gave him his release; but Rad didn’t take it. The club offered him just twice as much salary for the next year.”
Radbourn pitched seven more seasons and finished his career with a 309-194 record. After being accidentally shot in a hunting accident, and suffering from a variety of ailments, he died in February of 1897.
Bancroft remained in baseball until January of 1921 when he retired a business manager of the Cincinnati Reds. He died two months later at age 74.