The Chicago Tribune’s Hugh Fullerton concluded in 1906 that base running had “in a sense, become a lost art.”
“Baseball is now played by certain mathematical rules and regulations, and there is no more of the brilliant individual feats of the old days. Everyone who plays now knows just what stage the game is in, what to do in that stage, and if he does not the signals from the batter to show him his duty. In the old days most of them ran unaided by bunt, ‘squeeze,’ hit and run, or blocking or feinting to bunt to draw the fielders out of position.
“Teams still run, hoping to demoralize the opposition, but not to the extent that they did in the early years of the game.”
According to Fullerton no team ran wilder than the Chicago White Stockings of the 1880s
“Mike Kelly was perhaps the most daring of all base runners. He never was extremely fast, and in his later years grew extremely slow—but he stole almost as many bases when slow as ever he did. Indeed, the best base runners the game has known were men of medium speed in running, and few of the really fast sprinters ever were good base runners. Kelly ran bases with his head instead of his feet.
“One of the best trick that old team ever pulled off was against Boston in Chicago. Kelly engineered the deal, although he was on first base, with a runner—(Tom) Burns, I think—on third. One was out and the worst hitter on the team was up, with one run needed. Kelly was standing on first, and as the pitcher prepared to deliver the ball Kel went dashing towards second, yelling at the top of his lungs.
“The pitcher took a glance to see if the runner had left third and saw him standing still, and to his astonishment saw Kelly still tearing towards second. He hesitated, expecting Kel would stop or slow up—then threw, and threw high, while Kel, instead of sliding and reaching second in safety, merely touched the base and tore towards third at top speed, leaving the second baseman holding the ball in astonishment. The runner at third had moved off ten feet as Kel came tearing towards him yelling commands, and catching the drift of the play, he sprinted for home. The throw went to the plate ahead of him as he rushed homeward and seeing himself hopelessly out he slowed up a bit, and Kelly, coming on from third, slid around him, escaped the astonished catcher, who was tagging the other runner, and scored, evening up the game.”
Fullerton also wrote about the “Kelly Slide,” or “Kelly Spread,” the hook slide Kelly made famous, which also went by another name:
“Kelly invented the ‘Chicago Slide,’ which was one of the greatest tricks ever pulled off. It was a combination slide, twist and dodge. The runner went straight down the line at top speed and when nearing the base threw himself either inside or outside of the line, doubled the left leg under him—if sliding inside, or the right, if sliding outside—slid on the doubled up leg and the hip, hooked the foot on the other leg around the base, and pivoted on it, stopping on the opposite side of the base.
“Every player of the old Chicago team practiced and perfected that slide and got away with hundreds of stolen bases when really they should have been touched out easily There are some modern players who make the slide something as it was done then, but Bill Dahlen of New York really is the only one in either big league who executes it regularly and perfectly.”
And, as with most Fullerton reminiscences there were stories about his personal favorite players; which may, or may not have actually happened on a baseball field somewhere, to someone.
“Elmer Foster was a great base runner, after his style. He ran regardless of consequences and perhaps no man that ever played in fast company ever took an extra base on a hit oftener as did Elmer. He simply refused to stop at his legitimate destination, and kept right on. When he got caught he always said: ‘Why, I wasn’t a bit tired. Why should I have stopped running?’
“On day Foster was turning third, trying to score from second on a short hit, when Billy Kuehne bumped him with his hip, threw him out into the grass, and forced him to stop. Elmer was wild. He kept yelling, ‘I’ll be around here again.’ The next time up he made a two base hit and he never stopped at second, but dashed on for third at top speed. The second baseman, surprised, made a high throw to third and Kuehne stretched to get the ball just as Foster, leaping through the air, landed on his chest with both feet and kicked him half way to the grandstand. Foster came home running backwards and yelping with delight at Kuehne—and then got sore because he was called out.”
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“One of the funniest incidents in base stealing I ever saw happened in Chicago one of the yeas that Bill Lange led the league in base running. It was a close race between Lange and (Billy) Hamilton for the honors and the season was drawing to a close. The game was close, and Lange led off the eighth inning with a two bagger. Anson went to bat and laid down a perfect bunt, intending to sacrifice. He went out in a close finish at first, and looking up, discovered Lange still perched on second. He was furious, but the condition was mild compared to what he experienced an instant later when Lange stole third—and took the lead fo the base running honors.”