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Overview
2019 SABR Baseball Research Award Few people have influenced a team as much as did Tom Yawkey (1903–76) as owner of the Boston Red Sox. After purchasing the Red Sox for $1.2 million in 1932, Yawkey poured millions into building a better team and making the franchise relevant again. Although the Red Sox never won a World Series under Yawkey’s ownership, there were still many highlights. Lefty Grove won his three hundredth game; Jimmie Foxx hit fifty home runs; Ted Williams batted .406 in 1941, and both Williams and Carl Yastrzemski won Triple Crowns. Yawkey was viewed by fans as a genial autocrat who ran his ball club like a hobby more than a business and who spoiled his players. He was perhaps too trusting, relying on flawed cronies rather than the most competent executives to run his ballclub. One of his more unfortunate legacies was the accusation that he was a racist, since the Red Sox were the last Major League team to integrate, and his inaction in this regard haunted both him and the team for decades. As one of the last great patriarchal owners in baseball, he was the first person elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame who hadn’t been a player, manager, or general manager. Bill Nowlin takes a close look at Yawkey’s life as a sportsman and as one of the leading philanthropists in New England and South Carolina. He also addresses Yawkey’s leadership style and issues of racism during his tenure with the Red Sox.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780803296831 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Nebraska |
| Publication date: | 02/01/2018 |
| Pages: | 560 |
| Sales rank: | 1,076,930 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.50(w) x 9.20(h) x 1.80(d) |
About the Author
Bill Nowlin has been the vice president of the Society for American Baseball Research since 2004 and is one of the co-founders of Rounder Records. He has written more than thirty-five Red Sox–related books, including Ted Williams at War and The SABR Book of Umpires and Umpiring, and is the coeditor of Drama and Pride in the Gateway City: The 1964 St. Louis Cardinals (Nebraska, 2013).
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
A Baseball Santa, Tom Yawkey in 1933
Tom Yawkey seemed to come out of nowhere when he bought the Boston Red Sox on February 25, 1933. By the end of that year, he was being called a "baseball Santa" for the largesse he was lavishing on the team and, by extension, its fans. There was even a newspaper headline reading "Boston Baseball Fans Think of Erecting a Monument to Honor Tom Yawkey."
From the day he was born (February 21, 1903, in Detroit) to the day he purchased the team, Yawkey shows up not once in a comprehensive online search of the Boston Globe's archives, neither as Tom Yawkey nor as Thomas Yawkey nor as Thomas Austin, which was his name at birth. Even Tom's uncle, William Hoover "Bill" Yawkey (one-time owner of the Detroit Tigers), got little press in Boston. The situation was the same with the Boston Herald: there was not one mention of Tom.
Unknown he may have been, but Yawkey burst on Boston big-time when he became the owner of the Red Sox, the team sold him by J. A. Robert "Bob" Quinn, who had purchased the Red Sox from Harry Frazee in 1923.
The team Yawkey bought needed help badly. The Sox had finished in eighth place (last place in the eight-team league) in 1922, and they finished last again in 1923. Unfortunately the Red Sox dwelt in the American League cellar for most of the decade: they finished seventh in 1924 but then last again in 1925, 1926, 1927, 1928, 1929, and 1930. A glimmer of hope arose in 1931, when the Sox finished sixth, but they reverted to last place once more in 1932.
It was hard to believe that this was the same team that had won four World Series championships in 1912, 1915, 1916, and 1918. But Frazee had sold Babe Ruth — and any number of other Red Sox players — to the Yankees, starting in December 1919. And Quinn was severely undercapitalized. There were decent arguments to be made in favor of Frazee's selling off the disruptive Ruth, but when the player sales went on and on and the team became more deeply mired in the standings, there was some rejoicing in Boston when Quinn purchased the Red Sox from Frazee. A correspondent for The Sporting News even speculated, tongue in cheek, in a subtitle, "Hub May Make Date of Red Sox Sale New Holiday." Wanting a competitive ball team in Boston, American League president Ban Johnson was said to be "elated that Frazee finally is out of baseball."
It can take money to build, or rebuild, a competitive ball club, and within a relatively short period Palmer Winslow, the main finance man in the Quinn group, took ill and died in April 1927. And a couple of years later, the country was plunged into the beginning of what became the Great Depression. Quinn's Red Sox couldn't even play baseball on Sundays. The overall prohibition against playing the game on the Lord's Day was overturned by a statewide referendum in November 1928, taking effect before the 1929 season, but there was a prohibition on playing within one hundred yards of a house of worship, and Fenway Park was fewer than one hundred yards from the Church of the Disciples, at the corner of Peterborough and Jersey Streets. Perhaps it was feared that the distractions of the national pastime might cause worshippers to divert to the ballpark while on their way to church.
After the referendum the Boston Braves were permitted to play on Sundays at Braves Field, less than a mile and a half from Fenway, but the Red Sox couldn't play in their own home park. The Braves welcomed the Sox to play baseball at Braves Field on Sundays beginning on April 28, 1929, but they quite naturally had to share the revenues. On February 25, 1929 — four years to the day before the Yawkey purchase — Quinn was reportedly contemplating selling Fenway Park and working out a deal to play Red Sox home games at Braves Field, in an arrangement similar to one in St. Louis, where the Cardinals and Browns shared Sportsman's Park as their common home field.
An exasperated John S. Dooley (a longtime baseball fan who had helped Boston's American League franchise become established in 1901) spoke up, and at his indirect behest, Lt. Gov. Leverett Saltonstall approached the minister of the Church of the Disciples, Abraham Rihbany, and simply asked if the minister had any objection to the Sox playing on Sundays. Not at all, was the reply, given that Red Sox games started at 1:00 p.m. and the church service was over by noon. The first Sunday game at Fenway Park was played on July 3, 1932. The Yankees beat the Red Sox, 13–2. From that time forward, Sunday baseball has been played at Fenway. But times remained just too tough for Bob Quinn. Had he not found a willing buyer, he might have been forced to declare bankruptcy. Indeed the burden of debt he'd been bearing "would make most men jump out of a fourteenth-story window," he once said.
Finally Quinn just couldn't hack it any longer and — rather than jump — he sold the Red Sox for a reported $1.5 million to young Tom Yawkey. Yawkey had just turned thirty. "He's just a kid," wrote Boston sportswriter Joe Cashman.
CHAPTER 2
Tom Yawkey and Eddie Collins Buy the Red Sox
The sale of the Red Sox, of course, was front-page news in Boston. "Yawkey and Collins Buy the Red Sox," blared the February 26, 1933, Boston Globe. Though the money was all Yawkey's, it was not just Tom Yawkey who would front the club. He named himself president but wisely brought in a baseball man — Eddie Collins. Collins had been a star player with a twenty-five-year career for the Philadelphia Athletics and Chicago White Sox, and he had been out of the game for only a very few years. He sported a lifetime .333 batting average and was such a star that he was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1939, just three years after the hall's first induction ceremony in 1936.
Yawkey declared he wouldn't have bought the team without Collins's coming on board. There had been other opportunities for the young millionaire, in both the Minor and the Major Leagues. But he hadn't wanted to be a minority owner or even a co-owner; he wanted to be in charge. And he hadn't wanted to be in charge of a Minor League ball club. He'd waited until he could own a Major League team.
Yawkey had plenty of money. It's true that a fortune left him by his adoptive father, his uncle William Yawkey, had become his only four days earlier, on his thirtieth birthday. But he had had millions before that. He'd inherited a large sum from his mother in September 1918 and then yet more in March 1919. On his thirtieth birthday he came into $3,408,650 — twice as much as he needed to acquire the club. And buying a baseball club was something he'd been thinking about. Young he was, though an earlier owner of the franchise — John I. Taylor — had been just twenty-nine when he became the team's leader in the winter of 1903–4.
The New York Times reported that Tom Yawkey "was always anxious to get into baseball" and that there had been a couple of possibilities, both for teams in New York, where Yawkey lived. Both the Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Giants had offered opportunities for him to get into the game. With the Dodgers, "one half of the club could be bought, but Mr. Yawkey didn't want a half." And he may have been one of those who had bid for the Giants. ("That has never been denied," reported the Times.) The Times also wrote, "Some time ago Mr. Yawkey was urged to go into a minor league club; he could have had one of very good standing for almost nothing, but he told those interested that he wanted a big league outfit or nothing — that his father had been a big leaguer, had helped form the American League with the late Byron Bancroft Johnson and that he would not take anything that seemed small in comparison to the Tigers."
Why the Red Sox, "a losing team with a crumbling 21-year-old park"? Yawkey's answer: "I don't see how any man can get any real satisfaction out of taking a success and merely running it along. That's like landing a fish that somebody else hooked. The big kick comes from taking something that's down and seeing if you can put it up and across. That's what my daddy did. I want to see if I'm as good a man as he was."
How long Yawkey had been talking with Quinn is not something that can be pinned down with certainty, but it preceded his most recent inheritance, likely in anticipation. The Springfield Republican reported on March 2 that "the club was offered to him several months ago." He had, however, "delayed buying it until he could secure the consent of Eddie Collins to become his general manager." "General manager" (GM) was a newly created position, customized for Collins. Yawkey told the New York World-Telegram, "I knew if I could get him, I wouldn't have anything to worry about." Why hadn't he made an offer for the Giants? "I'm an American Leaguer. I wouldn't buy a National League ball club."
A story that came out late in 1934 noted that it was Elise Yawkey, Tom's wife, who first talked about Tom's buying a ball club. The Associated Press (AP) ran a story in December that year that told of a gathering with Collins and Connie Mack at Yawkey's apartment in 1932. The A's had lost, and Collins, Mack, and Yawkey were commiserating, recounting the game inning by inning, when Mrs. Yawkey spoke up during a momentary lull: "Tom, why don't you buy a club of your own and be done with it?" "Say, maybe I will," he responded. It was after they left that Mack asked Collins if Yawkey were serious and told Collins that he knew Quinn was ready to sell and that American League president William Harridge wanted to see a deal made for the betterment of the league.
Tom Yawkey looked up to two men: first of all, his uncle Bill Yawkey, who had owned the Tigers, an American League club, and second, Eddie Collins, whom Yawkey had admired as a player and who, young Yawkey was well aware, had graduated (as Tom had) from the Irving School in Tarrytown. Collins was already a major baseball star by the time Tom enrolled at Irving in 1912. In 1914, the year Yawkey turned eleven, Collins won the Chalmers Award, given to the most valuable player in the American League. He was a hero to all the boys at Irving.
(Another baseball man attended Irving as well: Ryan Ellis, who was principal owner of the Cleveland Indians from 1949 to 1952.)
Tom Yawkey was apparently a good athlete at Irving. After his passing, the Boston Herald wrote that he had won the school's Edward T. Collins medal for "all-around athletic proficiency." It was actually Tom's roommate who had won the award. But Yawkey came close; twice he placed second for the medal.
Yawkey first met Collins in 1928, when Ty Cobb brought Collins to a dinner at the Alamac Hotel in New York so that Collins could "meet a good friend [of Cobb's], a young fellow who is keenly interested in baseball." They talked for a couple of hours, "got along famously," and Collins learned that Yawkey had also attended the Irving School.
Cobb and Yawkey had long known each other. As a boy, Tom even played pepper with Ty Cobb, Sam Crawford, and other Tigers greats. It was part of the reason that he wanted to own his own club. But it was more than playing pepper. Cobb had visited Yawkey's adoptive father in South Carolina, and Tom had gone hunting with him. And Bill Yawkey had invited Cobb and others to his summer home in Sandwich, Ontario, across the river from Detroit. Cobb would hit grounders to Tom, and Bill "would be out there yelling at me because I wasn't handling the grounders well enough to suit him."
Yawkey also showed a sense of democratic values and — perhaps — a shrewd sense of what it might take to reestablish a strong following for his new ball club in Boston. "I believe the real, genuine interest in baseball lies in the bleachers. I may be mistaken, but I think the grandstand fan is a casual — he comes to the game in much the same mood and manner that the theatergoer goes to a popular hit. Over in Boston we are going to encourage the bleacher fan," he told the Boston Globe. The Globe story ran under the headline "More Bleacher Seats at Sox Park Planned," and indeed Yawkey had already begun to think of renovations to Fenway Park. First, however, he moved to renovate the team.
The announcement of the purchase in the Boston Globe introduced Thomas A. Yawkey as a "New York millionaire business man, with general investments in national resources." At the end of a lengthy story on the sale, the paper's James C. O'Leary added of the new owner, "He is at present connected financially with and is active in the manufacturing of various mining, manufacturing, lumbering, and paper mill companies, both in the United States and Canada." He was a member of a considerable number of private clubs. "Mr. Yawkey said he could not take up a residence in Boston. Even New York, he said, was hardly a satisfactory headquarters from which to conduct his various and widespread interests, but it was better than anywhere else."
The February 25, 1933, deal had been consummated shortly after 11:00 a.m. in the Fenway Park offices, but it was not announced until four hours later at a luncheon that Quinn hosted at the Copley Plaza Hotel, attended by Quinn, Yawkey, Collins, Will Harridge, Boston newspapermen, and some other guests. A photograph of Collins and Yawkey flanking Quinn ran on page one. There was no comment on the price paid. It was understood that Collins was awarded a partial share in ownership, perhaps as much as 10 percent. This was quite a gesture on Yawkey's part; he was noted for always wanting to own 100 percent of anything he did own. It may have been a necessary element in enticing Collins, or it may have reflected Yawkey's reverence of Collins.
Quinn had also been offered an ongoing slice of ownership — so the story said — but he declined, saying he'd had his shot and felt it was best to give the new owners complete control. Part of his reason to decline may have been the state of his finances; he admitted, "In case of another bad season, I could not stand any further losses." He did agree to stay on for a while as an adviser, but Yawkey became the president and Collins the vice president (VP) and GM. New York attorney Frederick DeFoe became club secretary. DeFoe had been the executor of William Yawkey's will and served as Tom Yawkey's legal adviser. The two remained close for the rest of DeFoe's life.
After the luncheon, Yawkey expressed polite regrets that Quinn couldn't see his way to staying on. "He said the new organization would do its utmost to give Boston a winning club, and he believed it would eventually be successful if hard work, desire and the expenditure of money could bring about such a result."
Collins had introduced Yawkey and Quinn about eight months earlier, but there were no discussions of a possible sale until a very few weeks before it occurred. Collins said it all had developed "so quickly that it was a shock to him." He added, "Of course we cannot be expected to build up a ball club in a day or a week or a year." Yawkey said almost the same thing: "It will not change in a day, a month or even a season. It is going to be a long, hard job, but we are going through to the end and eventually we will put the Red Sox back on their rightful heights."
They got to work almost at once. Marty McManus was kept on as manager for the 1933 season. There wasn't time to make a change at this point, and McManus hadn't been responsible for the state the team was in. He'd taken over only partway through the 1932 season.
After the announcement luncheon, Harridge, Yawkey, and Collins paid a courtesy call to Judge Emil Fuchs, the owner of the Boston Braves. Just four days later, the Red Sox party from Boston set off for spring training in Sarasota, Florida.
The transition from Quinn to Yawkey was complete. There remained one final transaction, which would enable Tom Yawkey to take full ownership of Fenway Park. The Yankee owners held a mortgage on the park, dating back to their acquisition of Babe Ruth. It led to speculation that the Yankees actually owned part of the team. The AP succinctly wrote of Frazee's ownership of the Red Sox: "He wrecked it by selling Babe Ruth, Everett Scott, Ernie Shore, Dutch Leonard, Joe Bush, Stuffy McInnis, Sad Sam Jones, Harry Hooper, Duffy Lewis, Herb Pennock, Joe Dugan, Waite Hoyt, and a host of lesser lights." The Sporting News wasn't any less kind: "He wrecked the Boston team whenever occasion arose to make a deal for money profit; he practically killed baseball in Boston."
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Tom Yawkey"
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Table of Contents
Introduction 1. A Baseball Santa, Tom Yawkey in 1933 2. Tom Yawkey and Eddie Collins Buy the Red Sox 3. The First Season 4. The First Offseason 5. Tom Yawkey’s Past 6. Yawkey at Yale 7. The First Full Season of the Yawkey Era, 1934 8. 1935–1938 9. The Kid Makes the Big Leagues, 1939 10. Before the War, 1940–1941 11. The War Years, 1942–1945 12. Postwar and the Pennant, 1946 13. Strong Seasons, 1947–1950 14. The Early 1950s 15. Doldrums Descend, the Latter 1950s 16. From Ted to Yaz, the First Sox Seasons of the 1960s 17. The Impossible Dream 18. After the Dream 19. Another Game Seven 20. Tom Yawkey’s Final Campaign 21. Jean Yawkey in the Late 1970s 22. Tom Yawkey Remembered and the Jean Yawkey Years, 1980–1985 23. The 1986 World Series and the Years That Followed 24. The Passing of Jean Yawkey 25. The Estate, 1994, and Beyond 26. The Yawkey Legacy 27. Tom Yawkey and Race Epilogue Acknowledgments Notes Index