The New York World unveiled a newly updated attraction for baseball fans on August 6, 1889; the “Baseball Bulletin,” a version of which had also been introduced at the Boston Music Hall earlier that summer.
The Associated Press said some fans thought the board was “an advantage over the actual game, in that it not only reproduces the plays graphically and simultaneously, but it keeps at the same time a simple and conspicuous record of the contest.”
The Boston Herald said their board measured “fifteen feet square.” New York’s board was an improved version of one that had been used the previous October for the Giants six game to four World Series victory over the American Association’s St. Louis Browns.
The board was the creation of reporter Edward Van Zile of The World; Van Zile received a patent for the invention, although it was another member of the paper’s staff, Publisher Joseph Pulitzer’s secretary Edwin A Grozier, who turned it into a profitable enterprise. After purchasing the original rights from Van Zile, Grozier improved the design and received his own patent.
The World said the new version was a bigger sensation than the one introduced the previous October:
“’Perfection’ is the word which expressed the verdict of the baseball public who had the good fortune to witness the game between the New York Giants and Baby Anson’s team on The World’s Baseball Bulletin Board yesterday afternoon…it is safe to say that no exhibition was ever received in this city with more enthusiasm than was the baseball bulletin.
“And the crowd too! What a vast number! There must have been fully 10,000 people in the audience, and the way they cheered when the Giants made a run was a sound that would have made Baby Anson sick.”
The presentation of the game took place on New York’s “Newspaper Row” (Park Row), with a crowd on the east side of the street
“(E)xtending from above The World Building to far below it (and) on the west side of the street the crowd was much larger. There was a long line of people from Mail Street almost down to the other end of the big Federal Building.
“No point from which the game could be witnessed was left vacant. The boys climbed up and lodged themselves in among the pillars of the Post Office…Even the lamp post was monopolized by the urchins, and when our boys made a good play they generally led the cheering.”
The “expert board operator placed the Chicago men in the field,” for the first inning, and leadoff hitter George Gore at the plate:
“When (Gore) slid down to first base the crowd were just ready to cheer, but they saw him put out and they reserved their applause for another occasion.
“They did not have long to wait, however, for (Mike) Tiernan and (Buck) Ewing each succeeded in gaining bases, and then big Roger Connor was placed over home plate
“The crowd held its breath in anticipation of what was to come. Their enthusiasm was drawn up to a high pitch, and was just waiting for a chance to break its bonds. And they got it! The little red disk representing Connor slid up to first and Tiernan slid across home plate. Then there was a volley of cheers. It broke forth clear and strong, and the sound could be heard blocks away.
“Up on the tops of the tall buildings in the neighborhood the cheers of the crowd could be heard resounding forth as a victorious army returning from battle.
“And it was all the same through the game. A great many people were attracted to the spot by the cries of the crowd, and when they saw the baseball bulletin they all united in declaring it to be the greatest thing they had ever seen.”
Chicago scored seven runs off Tim Keefe in the ninth to tie the score at 8. The crowd’s “disapproval resolved itself into a continued groan.”
The Giants scored two runs in the tenth, and when the white Stockings came to bat in the last half of the inning:
“(T)he crowd watched more intently than at any time before.As each Chicago man went out there was a yell, and when they all went out without having made a run it was impossible to say a word that could be heard.”
The paper commemorated their innovation with a poem:
A boy was passing down the street,
Another lad he chanced to meet;
‘I’ll bet,’ he said, ‘we’re licked once more.
What is the score?’
A merchant coming down that way,
Lifted his bearded head so gray;
And ceased o’er book and cash to pore—
‘What is the score?’
A preacher wrestled with his text,
And wondered what he’d best say next;
Then called out through his study door;
What is the score?’
The Mayor in his office sat
And pondered over this and that,
The said: ‘I’m sure the game is o’er.
What is the score?’
If they had only chanced to go
Into the middle of Park Row,
And see the bulletin of The World,
And the glorious pennant there unfurled,
They’d never ask the question more
‘What is the score?’
The World predicted the initial crowd was just the beginning:
“Today’s game between the Chicagos and the New Yorks will be duly recorded on the board. There is room for everybody to see, and it is expected that the crowd will be twice as large as yesterday.”
The following day the paper did not say the crowd had doubled—to 20,000—but claimed it was “The largest crowd that had ever been on Park Row,” for the Giants 4 to 2 victory over the White Stockings.
Crowds continued to come to Park Row as the Giants battled the Boston Beaneaters and won the pennant on the final day of the season.
Baseball Bulletin Boards, and other versions of the concept, remained a popular feature well into the 20th Century. More often than not they were sponsored and presented by local newspapers.