In March of 1901, second baseman Bill Keister jumped the St. Louis Cardinals for the Baltimore Orioles; St. Louis signed Dick Padden a week later to replace him.
Patsy Tebeau, who had managed the Cardinals to a 42-50 record before being let go in August, had no shortage of vitriol for his former player. He told The St. Louis Globe-Democrat:
“Padden has Keister beaten in every department of the game, and when it comes to ‘inside play’ the Baltimorean is entirely lost sight of.”
Keister had been purchased by the Cardinals with John McGraw and Wilbert Robinson before the 1900 season. The purchase of Keister had, said Tebeau, cost St. Louis “a good round chunk. And while not “Knocking any, it was illy spent.”
Tebeau
Then more knocking:
“Keister was bogus, a gold brick, a nonentity or what you will, and much of our ill-success in the early part of the race was due to his bobbling.”
Keister was not just bad, but historically bad, he said:
“If I live to be as old as Henry Chadwick, I never will forget a play Keister made in Philadelphia. We were playing a red-hot game with the Phillies, with a score of 2 to 1 in our favor along about the seventh inning. (Roy) Thomas and (Jimmy) Slagle both began by getting on base and (Ed) Delahanty sacrificed them along. (Napoleon) Lajoie followed with a stinging bounder straight at Keister. It came to him quick as a flash and on the first bound. Fast as Thomas is, he was a goner at the plate had Billy slapped the ball home.
“But he didn’t, nor did he play it safe and shoot to (first baseman Dan) McGann. He balked for a moment and then slammed the sphere to the third corner. McGraw wasn’t within 15 feet of the sack but seeing the throw he ran over best he could. Biff came the ball, McGraw, and Slagle all in a heap.
“Slagle was safe, McGraw had his ankle turned, and the sphere kept on to the fence. All three runners scored, we were beaten, and McGraw, besides, was laid up for several weeks.”
Keister
Tebeau called it, “the worst play that was ever made by a professional.”
The play in question happened on May 25, and he got most of the details correct; except the score was 2 to 0 and it happened in the sixth inning. The Globe-Democrat described the play less dramatically the previous spring:
“Lajoie hit fast and high to Keister. The little second-sacker threw to McGraw at third, in an attempt to head off Slagle. The ball and runner reached ‘Muggsy’ at the same time. In the collision McGraw was spiked in the foot and the leather rolled to the fence, giving the Quakers their lone three runs in the contest.”
The St. Louis Post-Dispatch and The Republican both wrote that McGraw was on the bag awaiting Keister’s throw, contrary to Tebeau’s recollection.
All three papers agreed that McGraw was badly injured beyond having his “ankle turned.” In addition to the collision, the Cardinals captain was spiked in the foot. The Post-Dispatch said the game was delayed 10 minutes before McGraw returned to the field—he was removed from the game after the end of the inning. The Republic said his toe was “badly split” and that he, “dropped like a poppy cut down by a cane twirled in the hands of a careless stroller.”
With McGraw in and out of the lineup over the next several weeks, the Cardinals went from 3 ½ games back to 11 games back after a disastrous 5-15 June.
Tebeau held a grudge:
“I consider that Keister was a star in Oysterville in 1899, but out in Missouri, where the ‘fans’ have got to be shown, he was about the worst I ever saw.”
“The worst” Tebeau ever saw played three more seasons in the major leagues; Keister was playing outfield and hitting .320 for the Phillies in August of 1903 when he tore a ligament before the August 26 game in Brooklyn. He never played in the major leagues again but played eight more seasons in the minors.
Tebeau never managed in the big leagues again. He killed himself 18 years later; Louis Dougher of The Washington Times said Tebeau wrote in a suicide note:
Perry Werden had a reputation as an umpire baiter during his more than 20 years a professional player
His penchant for hurling obscenities at umpires was so well know that in 1895 The St. Paul Globe, in noting that the Minneapolis Millers had issued free season tickets for all the town’s clergy members said:
“Perry Werden will give them food enough for sermons to last the rest of the summer.”
In 1899, he was thrown out of a game before it began because, The Globe said, “Perry threw the ball at (Jack) Sheridan, swiftly.” That was the culmination of a several-year struggle with Sheridan, who tossed him out of many Western League games. In 1895 The Milwaukee Journal said that during one game in which Sheridan ejected him:
“(T)he actions of Werden and others were so objectionable that 200 spectators left the grounds in a body and stated they would never patronize another game as long as base ball was so conducted in their city.”
On that occasion Werden was fined $50 and escorted from the grounds by two Milwaukee police officers.
While playing for the Memphis Egyptians in 1903, Werden and teammate Al Miller were fined $25 in a Birmingham police court for assaulting an umpire; he was escorted from the field by police on at least two other occasions that season.
Jack Brennan—born Gottlieb Doering—and Werden were teammates as rookies with the St. Louis Maroons in the Union Association in 1884 and remained friends. When Werden played for the Minneapolis Millers in the Western League and Brennan umpired in the circuit, The Globe said:
“They are great friends, but Brennan puts Perry out of the game whenever he gets a chance. When Perry hurt his knee…the umpire sent the following telegram of condolence to the big first baseman: ‘I hope that you will have to saw your leg off,” To this Werden replied” ‘I sincerely hope a foul takes your head off.”’
By 1906, well past his prime at 44, Werden joined the Vicksburg Hill Billies in the Cotton States League. He had played in the same league the previous season with the Hattiesburg Tar Heels and coached the Mississippi College baseball team in the spring.
He signed with Vicksburg–who were off to a 2-14 start under manager Billy Earle–along with Jeff Clarke, who had been the ace of his Mississippi College pitching staff as soon as the season ended on May 10.
Werden was immediately popular, as he had been in every city he played.
The Jackson Daily News said he, “has made many friends,” and was rumored to be in line to replace Earle and manager.
The Vicksburg Herald said:
“The old man has a good supply of ginger left and held down the initial sack in fine form. His coaching was calculated to put life into the youngsters, and he showed as much enthusiasm as a boy. There is no doubt that his presence on the team will add materially to its strength.”
The Vicksburg American reported that Werden and teammate Tom Toner “now have a bachelor’s quarters at the ballpark.” The two lived in a tent, where “Perry is cook and woodchopper and Tommie does other chores. Both are well pleased with the outing.”
And it took only four games for Werden to be “put out of the game and fined $5 for something said to the umpire.” He was tossed from at least two more games in next six weeks.
But, after hitting .328 in the same league the previous season, Werden, who injured a leg in June, hit just .141 in 49 games for Vicksburg.
Werden
On July 8, with the team 23-43, Earle resigned as manager and Werden was released. The American said:
“Perry today stands as one of the grand old ruins of what was once a gilt-edged celebrity, and with due respect to his age and feelings he certainly may be relegated to that realm called ‘has been.’”
The Vicksburg Evening Post was less kind, claiming Earle’s resignation was because “internal dissentions caused principally by Werden made it impossible for him to get good work out of his men.”
The Herald remained in Werden’s corner, saying the club’s directors:
“(F)or some occult reason, regarded him as a disturber. Just how these gentlemen arrived at that conclusion is a mystery. If the matter were left to the patrons of the game—the persons who make baseball a possibility—Werden would have been retained.”
For his part, The Herald said Werden was “grieved because the report circulated that his is a disorganizer…he says he has played ball for twenty-three years and the charge was never made before.”
Less than a week after his release, Joe O’Brien, president of the American Association asked him to become what he hated most: an umpire.
Werden accepted, but never said a good word about his new career despite immediately receiving positive reviews:
The Columbus (OH) Dispatch said after his first game there:
“Perry Werden is a good umpire. That’s the verdict that must be rendered on his first appearance at Neil Park. He permits no idle coaching and has good judgment on balls and strikes. Pitchers get the corner of the plate when they put them there. Fans liked his work.”
The Indianapolis Sun recounted some highlights from “genial jolly Perry’s” first weeks on the job:
“Werden’s tongue bids fair to be as cutting as that of the Hibernian Tim Hurst. He has umpired but a few games, but he has already won a reputation for being a wit and a master of repartee.”
Werden was quick to return questioned call with insults—during one game in Toledo, Fred Odwell, just sent to the Toledo Mud Hens from the Cincinnati Reds suggested Werden “open his eyes,” after a call, the umpire responded:
“What are you trying to do? Kick yourself back into the big league?”
He ordered Toledo’s Otto Knabe back to his position during an argument before Toledo manager Ed Grillo, “gets next to what a four-flusher you are.”
When Mud Hens third baseman Otto Krueger objected to a call, Werden chastised him for an earlier misplay:
“No, you are a nice bone head. Anybody that don’t know how many men are out and stands like a dummy with the ball at third base while a man runs down to first, has got no business to talk to me. Skidoo.”
When Indianapolis Indians catcher Ducky Holmes questioned a call, Werden responded:
“Little boy, every ball I call you say is a strike, and every strike you say is a ball. Shut up or I’ll have an amateur catching in your place.”
Dick Padden, whose major league career had ended the previous season, and was player-manager of the St. Paul Saints had his value to his club dismissed by Werden during an argument:
“Padden, you can kick all you want to. You dead ones don’t count. When I chase a man, I’ll put out someone who can weaken the team. Stick in Dick. I know you’re tired, but I am not going to put you out.”
Having served well for a few weeks, Werden parodied his well-known umpire hatred when he told The Sun:
“There ain’t any good umpires. There never was an umpire in the history of baseball that knew anything about the rules…there never was an umpire that could tell whether a curve broke over the plate or not…All that an umpire is out there for is to make a bluff at giving the decisions.”
After his many years as a player, Werden said he was “taking the rest cure,” as an umpire:
“The rottener you are the better you get by.”
And he endeared himself to every fan who swore they could see a play better than the umpire on the field:
“I’ve often wondered how the loud-faced fellow, in the stands, at 100 yards off from the play, can see exactly what comes off, But it’s so; he can. He never makes a mistake. I’ll admit sometimes it’s pretty hard for the umpire to see when he’s right on the spot. Where the runner and the ball and the baseman are. That’s the difference between the umpire and the fan. The umpire is always rotten and a dud, while the fan is always wise, just, and correct.”
At the close of his first half season, The Minneapolis Journal said of the new umpire:
“Perry as an umpire is getting away with it in great shape. He is a popular idol around the circuit and gets along well with the players.”
The reluctant umpire was hired back for the 1907 season.
Werden, top left, with the 1907 Western League umpire staff. Standing front l to, r. S.J. Kane and Gerald Hayes tope row, Werden, W.J. Sullivan, Jack Kerwin, and John Egan.
Early in in 1907 season, The Indianapolis News, likened Werden to a mythical wise king, and asked “the Nestor of the umpires,” about his newly chosen career: among the questions and answers:
“What is the future of umpiring? Was asked.
“A fool or a martyr is born every minute.”
“Can you recommend it to the American youth?
“Has he not a friend?”
“Would you advise umpiring as a profession?
“It is more exciting that the South American revolutions and the climate is better.”
“How did you come to be an umpire?”
“I was sent up for life, but the governor changed the sentence.”
Werden’s transformation from umpire attacker to umpire came full circle during a June 11, 1907 game in Louisville, after what The Courier-Journal called a “raw mistake” by the umpire calling a runner safe at second–a call Colonels pitcher Jim “Bull” Durham objected to. The Times said:
“Werden was forced to stand abusive language and as a climax Durham struck Werden with his glove.”
Durham was suspended for a week for the attack.
Late in his second season, Werden told The Minneapolis Journal he couldn’t “get used to umpiring,” Hugh Edmund (Hek) Keough responded in The Chicago Tribune:
“Possibly it is because umpiring can’t get used to him.”
The Minneapolis Star Tribune summed up Werden’s tenure:
“The big fellow makes his mistakes, but he is honest and fair, and this is all the fans want.”
William Henry Watkins, owner of the Indianapolis Indians, rescued Werden from umpiring after it was reported that he had already signed to move from the American Association to the Western League.
The Minneapolis Journal said:
“Werden will go to Indianapolis to act as assistant manager, coach, and advisor general of the Indianapolis baseball club.”
The Indianapolis News called him “The official coacher and trainer” of the club.
Caricature of Werden as Indianapolis “Coach”
Werden was ejected for the first time as Indians’ “coacher,” during the season’s eighth game by Stephen Kane—his frequent umpiring partner the previous season.
The Indians won their first pennant since 1902 and the coach received much of the credit in the Indianapolis press and was brought back for a second season.
Werden didn’t return in 1910, though he was apparently asked back. He went home to Minneapolis to organized a semi-pro team; Werden’s All-Stars that played for several seasons in Minneapolis’ City League..
He returned to umpiring in the Northern League in 1913—he was the league’s chief umpire– and the Dakota League in 1920 and 21.
Werden was also responsible for one rule change as an umpire. The Toledo Blade told the story:
“One day last summer a couple of fans shied some cushions at the venerable pate of Perry Werden. Perry immediately hied himself to the office of President Joe (O’Brien) and reported that he had been hanged, strangled, and flayed by the Milwaukee bugs.
“O’Brien was required to obey the rule and a $100 penalty was plastered on to Harry Clark, the supposition being that Clark was field captain of the Brewers. Clark denied that he was the leader of the team, and as he produced an affidavit swearing to his statement, O’Brien was powerless to collect the fine. He allowed the matter to drop but was thoughtful enough to bring it up at the annual meeting. Under the new rule the club and not the captain will be liable.”
J.G. Taylor Spinks said, “The names of Connie Mack and Rube Waddell are synonymous in baseball…It was Mack who was the first and the last to tolerate Rube, the one man who understood his foibles and frivolities.”
I
Mack
n 1942, Mack told The Sporting News editor about acquiring Waddell for the first time in 1900, after Waddell had been suspended by the Pittsburgh Pirates.
“I was managing Milwaukee in the newly formed American League…We were in a pennant fight with the Chicago White Stockings—now the Sox—managed by Charles Comiskey. I needed pitchers badly. I had a good club, except that I was weak in the box. I remembered the Rube—no one could forget him—after he shut out my club in Grand Rapids with two hits the year before.”
Mack said he knew Waddell was “hard to handle,” and did not get along with Pirates manager Fred Clarke:
“(B)ut I knew that Clarke was a bad disciplinarian and hot-headed to boot. I had an idea I might be able to handle the Rube.”
Mack said he traveled to Pittsburgh to meet with Pirates owner Barney Dreyfuss and asked, “if it was all right if I tried to get Rube.”
Dreyfuss consented and said, “We can’t do anything with him maybe you can.”
Mack called Waddell who was playing for a semi-pro team in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania:
“’Hello,’ he growled.
“’Hello, is this you, Rube?’ I asked.
“’Who in the hell are you?’ he roared.
“I knew I had made a mistake. I remembered I had heard he did not like the name Rube, so I started again.
“’Hello Eddie, how are you? This is Connie Mack of Milwaukee. I’d like to have you pitch for my club.’
“I’m satisfied here,’ he said.
“’I’ll give you good money. A great pitcher like you can win the pennant for me. You’d like it in Milwaukee, and the people will like you, too.’
“’No, I’ll stay here,’ Rube replied. ‘They like me here. They do everything for me, and I couldn’t let ‘em down. I’m not going to run out on ‘em.’ Then Waddell hung up the receiver.”
Rube
Mack said:
“I guess I should have spent my time talking about beer.”
He returned to Milwaukee but continued to send Waddell “a telegram every day and bombarded him with letters.”
Two weeks later, Mack received a wire:
“Come and get me.”
Mack said he traveled to Punxsutawney and met Waddell at his hotel:
“We went downstairs and had breakfast, and how he ate—four eggs, a stack of cakes, coffee and home-fried potatoes.”
Waddell told Mack he had “a few odds and ends” to take care of before they left for Milwaukee.
Mack said:
“’Wait until I get my hat,’ I was thinking I’d better not let him out of my sight.
“We walked down the main street and into a dry good store. ‘How much do I owe you?’ asked Rube. ‘Ten dollars and a quarter,’ said the owner and handed me the bill.
“I paid it. Rube then took me into a hardware store. ‘How much was that fishing rod, line and rest of the stuff I bought a month ago?’ ‘Twelve dollars and 35 cents,’ said the clerk. I paid that.”
Next said Mack, they stopped at a saloon to settle up a tab, then a dozen more stops at various businesses, finally arriving at the Adams Express Company:
“He owed $8 there. A friend had shipped him a dog C.O.D. I don’t know how he ever got the dog without paying for it.”
He told Waddell he was running out of money, but Rube assured him he only had one stop left—Mack paid $25 at “one of those three-ball places” to get Waddell’s watch back.
Mack told Spink he was concerned some local fans might be upset about losing the great pitcher, so he and Waddell stayed in the hotel room the rest of day and left 15 minutes before they were due to board the train for Milwaukee. When they arrived at the station:
“I saw a group of men coming up the platform—six or seven of them, big fellows, too. They stopped about 20 feet away and beckoned Rube.
“As rube left me, a fellow walked over. ‘You Connie Mack? He asked brusquely. ‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Well, I want to shake your hand. My friends and myself have come down here to thank you. You are doing us a great favor. Waddell is a great pitcher, but we feel that Punxsutawney will be better off without him.’”
Mack and Waddell went to Milwaukee, and a trade was completed with Pittsburgh for a player to be named later (Bert Husting), with the stipulation that Mack would have to return Waddell to the Pirates before the end of the season, if requested.
Mack said of Waddell’s stay in Milwaukee:
“He became a sensation. He had everything—color, ability, and an innate sense of what to do. He made the fans laugh, he made them cheer.”
Waddell spent just more than a month in Milwaukee—he won ten games; two of which came on August 19. After beating Chicago 3 to 2 in 17 innings in the first game, Mack asked him to pitch the second game—Mack and Chicago captain Dick Padden had agreed the 2nd game would only be five innings so the Brewers could make their train:
“’Say, Eddie, how would you like to go fishing at Pewaukee for three days instead of going to Kansas City?’ I knew Pewaukee was Rube’s favorite spot. He cut loose with a big grin, ‘All you have to do is pitch the second game,’ I said. ‘Give me the ball,’ said Rube. He pitched the five innings and won by shutout.”
The Chicago Tribune said of Waddell’s performance that day:
“(H)is feat of pitching both games and allowing Comiskey’s men only two runs in the whole twenty-two innings captivated the fans so completely that he had the whole 10,000 of them rooting for him before it was over.”
The next day, Mack said he received a telegram from Dreyfuss requested that Waddell be returned to Pittsburgh.
Mack, in Kansas City, wired Waddell in Wisconsin to tell him he was going back:
“Rube wired right back, ‘I’ll quit baseball before I play for the Pirates again. Will join you in Indianapolis.”
Mack said he knew the move would cost him the pennant but “played fair with Dreyfuss.”
He wrote a letter to the Pittsburgh owner explaining the situation and suggesting someone be sent to Indianapolis to get the pitcher.
“Dreyfuss sent his veteran catcher, Chief Zimmer, and Zimmer came to me. ‘There’s only one way to get Rube to go back with you,’ I told him. ‘You have to take him out, buy him a suit of clothes, some shirts and some ties—even some fishing stuff if he wants it.
“Zimmer took the tip. Rube got a new suit—and I lost a pitcher who won ten and lost three and fanned 75 men in 15 games.”
Waddell’s time in Pittsburgh ended the following May when he was sold to the Chicago Orphans. Mack said:
“Clarke and Rube were unable to get along…they were in constant arguments.”
Mike Donlin’s final comeback ended with a final stop with the New York Giants as a coach and pinch hitter.
Mike Donlin
Frank Menke of Hearst’s International News Service said Donlin tried to get under Johnny Evers’ skin in the last series the Giants played with the Braves:
“Evers, the peppery captain of the Boston Braves, walked up to the plate…watched three strikes whizz by and was declared out.
“’Oh, I say, Johnny,’ chirped up Donlin. ‘What was you waiting for?’
“Quick as a flash Johnny shot back:
“’I wasn’t waiting for the first and fifteenth of the month so as to get rent money, anyway.’
“The retort hurt Mike who was holding down the job as pinch hitter and coach for the Giants not because of his ability in either department, but through the friendship of Manager (John) McGraw.”
Johnny Evers,
Donlin appeared in just 35 games for the Giants, all as a pinch hitter, he hit just .161.
Comiskey Can’t Understand Padden
By 1906, Hugh Fullerton of The Chicago Tribune said of the importance of “a man whose brain is as agile as his body…Never was this fact so impressed upon me as a few years ago when I was sitting with (Charles) Comiskey.”
Charles Comiskey
Fullerton and Comiskey were watching the White Sox play the St. Louis Browns:
“Commy was talking, half to himself, about Dick Padden, who was about as quick a thinker as ever played the game.
“’I can’t understand it,’ soliloquized the Old Roman. ‘He can’t hit. He can’t run. He isn’t good on ground balls. He’s not any too sure of thrown balls, and his arm is bad.’ He stopped a moment and then added: ‘But he’s a hell of a good ballplayer.’”
Dick Padden
Jones Shuts Down Altrock
Nick Altrock won 20 games for the 1906 White Sox, after an arm injury and his general disinterest in staying in shape, Altrock slipped to 7-13 the following season.
Nick Altrock
Late in 1907, The Washington Evening Star said:
“Altrock is the champion mimic and imitator of the American League…Nick delights to give his various imitations, and much amusement do his companions find in these diversions of Altrock.
“The other day at Chicago, and just a few minutes before the game between the New Yorks and the Windy City aggregation began, the big pitcher was delighting the members of his own team, as well as several of the New York bunch, with his clever imitations of notable people, when he suddenly turned to Fielder Jones, the captain and manager of the Chicagos, and asked:
‘”What shall be my last imitation for the evening, Fielder?’
“’Why,’ replied Jones, with that sober look of his, ‘as I am going to pitch you this evening, Nick, suppose when you get in the box you give us an imitation of a winning pitcher.”
William “Bad Bill” Eagan was just 35-years-old when he died from tuberculosis in 1905, but many people didn’t believe it when the news was first reported. The hard-living Eagan’s demise had been predicted and reported several times. In 1901, the year after his professional career ended, The Fort Wayne Sentinel said:
“’Bad Bill’ Eagan who died two or three times last year, is running a poker room in Detroit. Eagan dies on the average of three times a year and is about due for the first of this year’s series. Eagan captained and played first base for Youngstown before his second demise last season.”
Bad Bill
In 1899 Connie Mack told The Philadelphia North American:
“Eagan would be one of the best second basemen in the business if he would keep in condition.”
He quickly wore out his welcome during all three of his brief stints in the big leagues. The first, with the St. Louis Browns in the American Association in 1891, ended, according to The Syracuse Standard after an incident with team owner Chris von der Ahe:
“(Eagan) was a jolly fellow and not afraid of discipline. The Browns got on a train at St. Louis to come East…von der Ahe’s nasal organ was rather large and red for its age and ‘Bad Bill’ determined to have some sport.
“Walking up to his employer, he caught the nose between his fingers, and said: ‘Say, Chris, how much did it cost to color that?’
“The owner of the cerise nose was furious with rage. He released Eagan at once. The train was ninety miles east of St. Louis, and at von der Ahe’s order the conductor put the nose twirler off the train.”
Two years later Eagan joined ‘Cap’ Anson’s Chicago Colts. Hugh Fullerton told the story of how he wore out his welcome there after just six games:
“Anson was a quick thinker on the ball field, but once he released the best second baseman that ever wore a suit for thinking a little quicker than anybody else on the nine.
“The second baseman in question was “Bad Bill’ Eagan. Everybody who remembers ‘Bad Bill’ will admit his supremacy on the second bag. When the play we celebrate came up there was a base runner on second. Chicago was one run to the good, and it was in the last half of the ninth inning.
“(Bill) Dahlen was playing third base for Chicago. The man hit a sharp liner down to second. ‘Bad Bill’ started for it and at the same instant the man started for third base.
Bill Dahlen
“The liner was a clipper and the ball struck ‘Bad Bill’s’ hands and bounded out. It struck the ground ten feet away, with ‘Bill’ right after it. Once he got his hands on it and without stopping to look where he was throwing. ‘Bill’ let the ball fly to third base.
“Most ball players after fumbling the ball would have tossed it to the pitcher or thrown it home if, after looking around, they saw that the base runner had started to try to score.
“In this case the base runner, after touching third, went on for twenty feet and then stopped for an instant to see what had become of the ball. He saw it coming straight as a die for third base, and went back there like a flash. But the ball beat him by ten feet. Unfortunately for the game, and also for “Bad Bill,’ Dahlen had taken it for granted that Eagan would throw the ball to the home plate, and was not looking for it to be thrown to him. Consequently the ball went by him, going within four inches of his nose, and striking the grand stand far behind.
“The result was that both base runners got safely home before Dahlen recovered himself and the ball, and the game was lost to Chicago.
“Anson was furious and immediately after the game gave ‘Bad Bill’ his release for making that throw. As a matter of fact, it was the best possible play under the circumstances, and Dahlen, rather than “Bad Bill’ was to blame for it not coming out as planned. If ‘Dal’ had thought as quickly as ‘Bill’ the game might have been settled right then and there.”
Eagan received one more trial with a major league team in 1898. He started the season on the bench for the Pittsburgh Pirates, but was given the opportunity to start when regular second baseman Dick Padden left the team over a dispute with Manager Bill Watkins in May.
Eagan hit .328, but committed 10 errors in 19 games. He was sold to Louisville Colonels on June 5. The Louisville Courier-Journal said:
“He is a clever fielder, a fair batsman, extremely aggressive and absolutely fearless (and will) certainly strengthen the team in one of its weakest spots.”
But he never appeared in a game for Colonels. The following day The Courier-Journal said the deal was off, and Manager Fred Clarke would only say, via telegram:
“Called deal for Eagan off for good reasons.”
The Colonels passed on Eagan despite being a team badly in need of a regular second baseman—Clarke tried nine different men there during the season, and his primary second baseman, Heine Smith hit .190 and committed 16 errors in 26 games.
Eagan finished the 1898 season with the Eastern League’s Syracuse Stars, where he had played from 1894 to 1897. He finished the year of 1898 in jail in his native Camden New Jersey.
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