Things did not always follow a standard procedure on the baseball diamond, as small deviations altered outcomes and comfort zones. At times, others forced iconic players to reassess their routine and superstition, while managers needed to understand that a fervent desire to win did not mean that individual should resort to harsh measures. On this July Tuesday, I share two stories where one of the involved parties in each did not experience a happy conclusion.
For over two decades, second baseman Edward “Eddie” Collins performed marvelously as one of the American League’s supreme players with the Philadelphia Athletics and Chicago White Sox. Eddie carried a lifetime batting average of .333 and recorded 3,315 hits. Collins also played on six American League pennant-winning teams, and saw his club claim victory in four World Series. Throughout most of his diamond career, Eddie possessed the habit of placing a slightly chewed wad of gum on the button of his baseball cap when running out to his second base position.
While batting at the plate, whenever a hurler fired two strikes past Collins, Eddie pulled the gum from the baseball cap and placed it in his mouth. Superstitiously, Eddie believed this made him invincible and that no pitcher could fan him. In 1936, White Sox twirler Theodore “Ted” Lyons, Collins’s teammate from 1923 to 1926, shared a story with Chicago newspaper sportswriter Edgar Munzel about how some of his diamond brethren altered Eddie’s behavior regarding his superstition.
According to Lyons, a group of White Sox players decided to have a little fun at Collins’s expense. While something else distracted Eddie, these individuals sprinkled a liberal dose of pepper on the gum. On his first appearance at the plate, the opposing pitcher quickly fired two strikes past Collins. The second baseman immediately initiated the ritual of grabbing that hunk of gum off the baseball cap and placing it into his mouth. Eddie experienced the surprise of his life. No sooner had the gum entered his mouth than Collins twirled around, sputtered, and spat vigorously to remove the chewing gum’s objectional taste. When Eddie resumed batting, he promptly struck out. According to Lyons, this ended his teammate’s faith in that wad of gum acting as a buffer against fanning at the plate.
Although Eddie Collins experienced an unpleasant moment by chewing the peppery gum, at least he remained conscious. This is not the case for the object of today’s second tale. Unlike Collins, infielder Jewel Ens experienced a briefer career as a major league player. Jewel appeared in 67 games for the Pittsburgh Pirates from 1922 through 1925. During different seasons in the 1920s and 1930s, Ens also performed coaching duties for the Pirates. He managed the club for the final month of the 1929 campaign, and in 1930 and 1931.
In 1930, Pittsburgh owner Barney Dreyfuss turned over the reins for overseeing the Pirates’ franchise to his son, Sam. Early that season, Sam Dreyfuss shared a story regarding Jewel’s days within minor league baseball. Besides playing for various teams from 1908 through 1921, Ens also managed the Texas League’s Houston Buffaloes in 1920. Dreyfuss shared his tale with a Pittsburgh sportswriter regarding an incident involving Jewel from that 1920 campaign.
“Jewel’s first job as manager,” said Dreyfuss, “was at Houston, in the Texas League.”
“The team was engaged in a close game, and was leading by one run in the ninth. The opposing team had two runners on bases, enough to win the game, and there were two out.”
“Jewel decided it was a good time to change pitchers. He ordered a new hurler to the mound, and the first pitch by the newcomer was so wild that the ball went to the stands, and the runners scored, losing the game for Houston.”
“As the players ran from the field, Ens ran from the bench, and met the pitcher at first base. Without a word, he hauled off and knocked him cold.”
“I don’t think Jewel Ens takes his baseball now quite so seriously, but perhaps that will serve as a tip to our pitchers not to uncork any wild pitches in the pinches.”
Both incidents proved cautionary tales for the involved parties. Eddie Collins found that teammates would not hesitate to ruin years of superstitious behavior to get a good laugh. As Sam Dreyfuss stated, his story supplied a warning to Pittsburgh Pirates hurlers to avoid testing manager Jewel Ens’s patience by throwing wild pitches.
In this 1938 photo, from left to right are coach Jewel Ens, manager Harold “Pie” Traynor, and coach John “Honus” Wagner.
Watch more video ;
