If base-ball diamonds were perfectly true the bound of the ball might be calculated with mathematical precision, but unfortunately they are not, and these precautions become necessary.
There should be an understanding between the short-stop and third baseman that the latter is to take all slow hits toward short, and as many hard hits as he can fairly and safely field. The effect of the baseman's covering ground in this way is to allow the short-stop to play a deeper field and farther toward second base. Some players do not like the idea of another fielder taking hits which seem more properly to belong to themselves, but this is the correct way for a short-stop and third baseman to work, and between two men, playing only for the team's success, there will never be any dispute.
It is always best, when possible, to use both hands to stop or catch a ball; but sometimes a hit is so far to either side, or so high, that it can only be reached with one hand. Therefore, a short-stop should practice one-hand play so that he may be able to use it when the emergency requires. He should never attempt it at any other time.
Having secured a batted ball, he should throw it at once, waiting only long enough to regain his balance and make sure of his aim. The practice of holding the ball for a moment and looking at the runner, whether done to demonstrate the fielder's perfect sang froid, or to make a swift and pretty throw for the benefit of the grand stand, is altogether wrong. Generally, the throw will be to first, though sometimes there will be an opportunity to put out another runner, in which case it will be to some other base. In throwing to second or third, if he is near the base, he should pass the ball to the baseman by an easy, underhand toss. It is a difficult play to catch a thrown ball when the thrower is quite near; besides, in making double plays by way of second base, any time lost in tossing the ball will be more than regained by the quicker handling, and there is the additional inducement of safety.
In making double plays to second it is almost always better to pass the ball to the baseman and allow him to throw to first, than for the short- stop to attempt to make the play alone. In 1882, a couple of weeks before the season closed, the Providence Club reached Chicago with the pennant all but won; one game from Chicago would have made it sure. In about the sixth inning of the last game, with the score four to two in our favor, the first two Chicago batters reached their bases. Kelly then hit to George Wright at short, who passed the ball to Farrell, retiring the runner from first, but Jack threw a little high to Start and missed the double. With runners on first and third, the next man, Anson, hit hard to Wright, so that he had plenty of time again for a double. But, this time, instead of passing the ball to Farrell, as before, George attempted to make the play alone. He touched second, but, by the time he was ready to throw Kelly came against him, and the result was a wild throw, and, to complete the disaster, the ball rolled through a small opening under a gate and both runners scored. We were beaten finally six to five, and lost the championship. It should be added that the game would have been won again in the eighth inning but for the unpardonable stupidity of one of the Providence base-runners.
By far the most difficult catch on a ball field is that of a ball hit high to the in-field, because of the great "twist" to the ball. The slightest failure to get the ball fairly in the hands will result in a miss, and yet this is always greeted by derisive howls from certain among the spectators. There are various styles of catching these hits, but the position of the hands shown in the accompanying cut is believed to be the best.
The hands should be reached well up to meet the ball and then brought down easily in the line of its course. If the hands and arms are held stiff, the ball will rebound from them as though it had struck a stone. The use of a glove on one hand may be found helpful in counteracting the effect of the twist. The short-stop is expected to try for all such hits falling in his own position, and also all falling back of the third baseman and in short left-field.
With runners on bases, a double play may sometimes be made by allowing such a hit to first strike the ground. In order that the ball may not bound beyond reach, it should be caught or "picked up" on the short bound, and to do this safely requires a great deal of skill. It is a pretty play, and often of invaluable service, and it should therefore be practiced carefully until it can be made with approximate safety. The short-stop must not betray beforehand his intention, but pretend that he is going to catch the ball on the fly.
With all signals given by the catcher to the different in-fielders the short-stop must be perfectly familiar, in order that he may be prepared to do his part. If there is to be a throw to second or third he should know it, so that he can be ready to back up in case the throw is wide or breaks through the baseman's hands. So, too, he must know when to expect a throw if he himself be covering second.
In all cases where a runner is caught between bases, the short-stop must take part. If the play is between first and second or between second and third, he and the second baseman alternate in backing one another up on one side of the runner, while the other baseman and the pitcher do the same on the other side. If it is between third and home, he and the third baseman attend to one side, while the catcher and pitcher look after the other. In every case the base runner should be run down as quickly as possible, and always toward the base farthest from the home plate, so that if an error is made the runner will gain no advantage.
In backing up other fielders a short-stop may be of great service, and he should do this in every possible case, no matter where the play may be. But the positions which he is specially bound to back up are the second and third bases, not only on all throws from the catcher, but from any other fielder, where it is possible for him to get in line with the throw. He must not get too close to the baseman but keep a sufficient distance back of him to make sure of getting in front of the ball.
The simplest of the three out-field positions is the left-field, and one evidence of this is seen by the fact that a left-fielder almost invariably leads in the averages.
If fielding were the only consideration, the man who was the surest catch, who could run the fastest and throw the longest, would be the best man for the left-field position; but other points enter into the question. A team, to win, must have hitters as well as fielders, and it is therefore usual to fill up the outfield with good batters, even at the expense of a slight weakness in fielding.
Considered simply as a fielder, the occupant of the left-field should have a good "eye" to "judge" a ball hit in the air. The moment the hit is made he must be able to tell its direction and locate the place where it is going to fall. The best fielders acquire a remarkable skill in this respect and are able to decide these things at a glance. The fielder who is obliged to keep his eye on the ball all the time it is in the air will not cover nearly so much ground as the one who is able to put down his head and run until near the ball. Particularly is this true of a fly hit over the fielder's head. The player who attempts to run backwards or sideways for the ball, or who turns his back to the ball but keeps his head twisted around so as to see it, will not begin to get the hits that a man will who is able to locate the hit exactly and then turn and run until he has reached the spot where the ball is going to fall. If the eyesight is good any fielder can learn to do this, all it requires being sufficient practice and plenty of confidence.
Another qualification for a fielder is the ability to start quickly and run fast. The player who excels in these respects will, of course, get more hits than one who starts and runs slowly.
Next, he must be a sure catch on a batted ball, no matter in what shape he may be obliged to take it, whether running toward or with the ball, and whether it be high, low, or on either side. Many fielders are sure of a ball if they can get it in a particular position or at a certain height, but this is not enough, for it is not always possible to do this. A player who feels himself weak on any point should practice and practice upon that particular thing until he has mastered it. If he can catch hits on his right better than on his left side, let him practice catching only on the left; if he is weak on hits over his head, he should have some one bat to him thus, until he has overcome the weakness. Any failing of this nature may be corrected by practice.
A fly ball should never be caught holding the hands and arms rigid. The fielder should reach up to meet the ball and then bring the hands down easily with it. There are some balls hit to the outfield, as well as to the in-field, which the fielders cannot possibly reach with both hands but may be able to get with one. In a game played to-day (May 7th), between New York and Indianapolis, Hines, of the latter Club, made a marvelous one-hand catch of a hit that would otherwise have been good for three bases; and the effect of that one play off the first New York batter was so bracing to the rest of the Indianapolis team that it probably accounted for the strong and winning game they afterwards played. So that, while discountenancing one-hand plays when two hands may be used, I still think every fielder should practice one-hand catches, to be prepared for such a play when it becomes necessary.
In fielding balls hit along the ground, the fielder should not wait until the ball comes to him, but run in to meet it as quickly as possible. Then, if fumbled, he may still have time to get it back to the infield before base runners can take an extra base.
The instant an out-fielder gets a ball in his hands he should throw it to some point in the in-field. The habit of holding a ball is extremely dangerous. If the bases are clear and a single base-hit is made the ball should be sent at once to second base. If there is a runner on first, it should be thrown to third base, because if sent to second a bold runner will sometimes keep right on to third. If there is a runner on second when the hit is made and the left-fielder secures the ball quickly, he should throw it to third, because most runners will over-run that base in order to draw the throw to the home plate, and a quick throw to the base will catch them before they can return.
The left-fielder is expected to back up the second and third bases on a throw from first base or right-field. He should also back up third on a throw from the catcher, and to this end must be on the look-out for the catcher's signal. He must also back up the centre-fielder when that player runs in to meet a hit, for, though he may not be able to get in front of the ball, he will still be able to recover it quicker than the centre-fielder in case it gets by the latter. He should also get near the centre-fielder when the latter is trying for a high fly, so that if the ball is missed he may assist in sending it quickly to the in-field.
As soon as a fielder has decided that he can get to a hit and has made up his mind to take it, he should call out loudly and distinctly, "I'll take it." That gives every one else warning to keep out of the way, and avoids the chance of collisions. On the other hand, if he is running for a hit and hears some other fielder call out, he should reply, quickly and clearly, "Go ahead." That gives the other fielder confidence, and he need not hesitate or take his eye from the ball to learn the location of other fielders. If this very simple rule is observed there will never be any collisions, nor will any hits that should be caught be allowed to drop between fielders.
On all long hits out of the fielder's reach he should go after the ball with all possible speed and return it to the in-fielder, who has gone out to help him back with the ball. If he misses a fly he should get after the ball at once and send it to the proper point on the in-field, and not walk after it simply because he has missed it.
Andy Leonard, of the old Bostons, was, in his day, one of the best of left-fielders. He was particularly strong on balls hit over his head, which he always took over his shoulder while running with the direction of the hit. He was also a remarkably bard and accurate thrower.
Much of what has been said with reference to the left fielder is applicable also to the occupant of the centre field. As a fielder only, it is necessary that he should possess the same powers of "judging" a hit quickly, of starting the instant the hit is made, of running fast until he has reached it, and of catching the ball in any position; but as a fielder and batter as well, his fielding qualities are often overlooked, to a certain extent, in favor of his power as a batter.
Many fielders prefer to catch a ball while they are running and so regulate their speed as to be still on the move when they meet the ball. Some of them do this because they can catch a ball better in that way, and others because they think it looks prettier and pleases the grand stand; they are continually making what appear to be difficult catches, and they occasionally fall down and roll over to add to the effect. But while this may deceive the average spectator, it never escapes the other players, and they soon grow extremely weary of such gymnastics. And after awhile the spectators, too, discover his tricks, and then the player will not get credit even for the really good work he may do. Another thing to be said against this grand-stand style of play is that these players sometimes miscalculate the direction or force of a hit just enough to lose it, whereas if they had run hard at first the ball would have been easily caught. The safest plan is to get under the hit as quickly as possible and then there will be time to correct any slight misjudgment.
In fielding balls hit along the ground, the outfielder should run in quickly to meet the ball and return it instantly to the proper point on the in-field. I have seen games lost by out-fielders stupidly holding a ball or returning it lazily to the in-field. There is absolutely nothing to be gained but everything to be lost by such plays.
In throwing to any point on the in-field, if the throw is at all a long one, the fielder should line the ball in on the bound. An out-fielder should never attempt a long throw on the fly, to first or third or home. A throw on the first bound will reach there just as quickly, more accurately, and with less chance of getting by the fielder to whom it is thrown.
The centre fielder must back up second base on all throws from the catcher, and also on throws from any other position, whenever possible. On throws from the direction of first base he will be assisted by the left fielder and from the direction of third base by the right fielder. When a runner is stealing second base and the catcher's throw is wild, the centre fielder must meet the ball quickly so as to prevent the runner from going on to third. In a case of this kind a crafty runner will often make a feint to run to third in order to force the fielder to throw the ball in the hope that he may throw it wild. If there is a probability that the runner actually intends to go to third, there is nothing left the fielder but to throw and take the chance. But if the fielder has good reason to suspect the honesty of the runner's intentions, a quick throw to second, instead of to third, will often catch him before he can return.
The centre fielder should also back up the left and right fielders on all hits along the ground which either-of them runs in to meet. It gives one fielder more confidence to go in quickly after a ball if he knows there is another fielder behind him to stop it in case it passes himself.
Even on an in-field hit to the second baseman or short-stop the out- fielder should move in at once, so as to be able to recover the ball quickly if it gets through the in-field.
When a runner is caught between first and second or second and third bases, the centre fielder should get in line with the play, back of second base. For, while only four players take an active part in such a play others should back up to provide for the possibility of a wild throw.
The necessity of "calling" for a fly hit applies with particular force to the centre fielder. As soon as he has seen that he can get to a hit and has decided to take it, he calls out loudly so that every one must hear, "I'll take it," and all the other fielders near him respond, "Go ahead." This will avoid all danger of collisions to which he is specially exposed by having a fielder on either side.
On all high flys to another out-fielder he should go near the fielder who is attempting to make the catch, so that if the ball is missed and bounds his way, he can recover it quickly and prevent runners from gaining extra bases.
The right field, when properly played, is the most difficult of the out- field positions. A ball hit in that direction by a right-handed hitter always describes a curve and is therefore very hard to judge. A good right fielder should also throw out many men at first base during a season, and this means that he must possess all the qualifications of an in-fielder. A few years ago it was not an unusual thing to see a batsman thrown out at first on a hit into right field. One of the best fielders for this was George Shaffer, who for several seasons played with the Cleveland Club. Another good man was "Jake" Evans, of the Troy Club, and when with the Providence Club, Dorgan seldom let a game go by without catching one or more men in this way.
Of late this is not done so often, for the reason that the right fielder plays a much deeper field now than he did a few years ago. Then, when the "curve" was still a novelty, there were very few hard hits made to right field by right-handed batters. Still, even now, there are many batters for whom there is no reason to play a deep right field, and such a batter should often be thrown out at first. Yet the only player whom I have seen make the play this season was Brown, of Boston, who threw out Titcomb twice in one game on the Polo Ground.
All that has been said about the other out-fielders as to judging a hit, starting, running, and catching, may be said of the right fielder. Equally with them he must locate a hit instantly, start quickly, run speedily, and be able to catch the ball in whatever form he may reach it. In judging a hit the fielder always takes into consideration the force and direction of the wind--with the effect of which he has become familiar in the preliminary practice--and the curve which the ball is likely to take if hit by a right-hand batter.
In fielding ground-hits he meets the ball quickly, and, where possible to catch the batter at first, he throws there on the fly. The reason for throwing so in this instance is, that if he is near enough to catch the man at all, he is near enough to throw accurately on the fly. But to third base or home he should always throw on the bound.
He should back up first base on all throws from the catcher. He also should assist the centre fielder in backing up second base, and to this end run back of the centre fielder when the latter goes in to meet the ball; so that if it passes one, the other will still be there to stop it. He should also back up the centre fielder on all ground-hits to the latter, and on all fly hits to him he should go near so as to quickly recover the ball if it be missed.
He should "call" for the ball the moment he has decided to take it, and as between an out-fielder and an in-fielder the former will take any hit he can reach. He is running in for the ball and has it before him all the time, while the in-fielder, running out, is apt to get twisted up and in bad shape to make the catch.
Out-fielders, like in-fielders, must change position to correspond with the direction the batsman is likely to hit. For instance, there are some men who are never known to hit to right field, and for such the entire out-field moves toward the left field, the right fielder going almost to centre, the centre fielder to left centre, and the left fielder close to the foul-line. When the fielder knows the batsman, he will change without direction; but in any case he should respond quickly to any signal from the pitcher, because the latter may be going to force the batter to hit in a particular direction. The best fielders make the greatest difference in the positions they play for different batsmen.
The right fielder must be on the look-out for the catcher's signal to throw to first or second base, because, in order that he may get in line with the throw, it is necessary that he shall start when the pitcher begins to deliver. He cannot wait until the catcher throws or he will be too late to get in line.
The most unsatisfactory feature in base-ball to the player himself, is batting. In theory it is so simple, yet in practice so difficult, that one is forever finding fault with himself and thinking, when too late, of what he might have done if only he had not done as he did.
Of course, the element of chance or "luck," as it is called, enters largely into the question. The hardest hit will sometimes go directly into the waiting hands of a fielder, while a little "punk" hit from the handle or extreme end of the bat may drop lazily into some unguarded spot. But, in the course of a season, these chances should about equalize one another, and, though fate may seem to be against a man for a half dozen or more games, he will be found finally to have benefited as much by "scratch" hits as he has lost in good, hard drives.
The theory of batting is simplicity itself. All that is necessary is to wait until the ball comes over the plate and then hit it on a line back into the field. From the grand stand, nothing could be easier. To sit back of the catcher and see the balls come sailing over the plate, one will wonder why they are not hit out of creation, and when some player, who has allowed a couple of balls to pass directly over the plate without making the least attempt to hit at them, finally lets go at one that he could scarcely reach with a wagon tongue, much less with a 36- inch bat, the spectator is likely to question the fellow's sanity. It is amusing to sit in a base-ball crowd and hear the remarks. There are more good batters and umpires and all-round ball players in the grand stand within one's hearing, than are to be found in both the contesting teams.
It would be more amusing still if some of these prodigies could be lifted out of their seats and taken down into the field, and, with a bat in hand, made to face some first-class pitcher until they had hit the ball just once. They would be surprised to see how differently it looks. At a distance of only fifty feet from a man who can throw a ball like a streak of lightning, or with the same apparent motion, send it so slowly that one will think it is never going to reach him, who can curve it in or out, up or down, the question of hitting the ball at all becomes one of some doubt, to say nothing of "base hits." And then, add to this the danger of a swift, wild pitch carrying away an arm or burying itself in the batsman's stomach, and the difficulty is greatly increased. Just think of it for a moment. A player who can throw a ball, say one hundred and sixteen and two-thirds yards, goes into the pitcher's box and from a distance of only sixteen and two-thirds yards throws the ball to the batter with all speed. If the throw is wild and the ball hits the batter it strikes him with a force that would have been sufficient to carry the ball one hundred yards further. It would be interesting to know just how many mule power there is behind such a blow. There are a few moments after a man has been hit during which he wishes he had never seen a base-ball, and for the next couple of games, at least, he will think more of escaping a recurrence of the accident than of hitting the ball. Hines, of Indianapolis, has already been hit on the head this season by one of the Chicago pitchers, and the result is a long, ragged-looking scar that he will always carry. An inch lower, and the blow might have cost him his life.
The first consideration in learning to bat is to acquire the proper form. By this is not meant the position to be assumed while waiting for the pitch, because each batter may, and generally does have his distinctive style. But when in the act of hitting there is a certain form to be observed, and this, in its salient points, is the same with all good batters.
Standing within easy reach of the plate, the batter should hold his bat ready to hit a breast-high ball. It is easier to hit a low ball when expecting a high one than to hit a high ball when a low one was expected, for the reason that it is easier to drop the bat quickly and swing underhand than it is to elevate it and chop overhand. When the ball is pitched be should not move until he has seen where the ball is going. Not until in the act of swinging his bat should he step forward, and then his step should be short, and, generally, directly toward the pitcher. When he hits, the body should be held erect and flung slightly forward, so that when the bat meets the ball the weight is principally on the forward foot.
If he steps too soon, his position is taken and he cannot change it to suit any slight miscalculation he may have made in the speed or direction of the ball.
Neither should he make too long a stride, for the same reasons given in the preceding paragraph, and also because it puts him in bad form to hit at a high ball.
He should generally step directly toward the pitcher, unless he has special reasons for doing otherwise. For instance, if a right-hand hitter wishes to hit to left-field, he had better step so as to face slightly in that direction; and if he wishes to hit to right-field, he will stand farther from the plate and step in with the left foot so as to face somewhat in the direction he intends to hit.
The object in standing erect is to keep well the balance and be in a position to cut under or over at a low or high ball. The body is thrown slightly forward so that the weight and force of the body may be given to the stroke. It is not necessary to hit hard, but solidly, and this is done not so much by the swing of the arms as by the push and weight of the shoulder behind it.
The accompanying cut of Ewing is an excellent representation of a batter, in the act of hitting. He not only swings the bat with the arms, but pushes it with the weight of the shoulders. The position is a picture of strength.
In hitting at a high ball the bat should be swung overhand, in an almost perpendicular plane, and so, also, for a low ball, the batter should stand erect and cut underhand. If the bat is swung in a horizontal plane the least miscalculation in the height of the ball will be fatal. If it strikes above or below the centre line of the bat, it will be driven either up into the air or down to the ground. Whereas, if the bat is swung perpendicularly, the same mistake will only cause it to strike a little farther up or down on the bat, but still on the centre line, and if it misses the centre line it will be thrown off toward first or third, instead of up or down.
There are two classes of good batters whose styles of hitting are so different that they may be said to be distinct. The one, comprising such hitters as Connor, Brouthers, Tiernan, Wise, Fogarty, Whitney, Ryan, Denny, and Fred Carroll, use the full length of the bat, and in addition to the push of the shoulders make a decided swing at the ball. In the other, in which are Anson, Kelly, Dunlap, and a few others, the motion is more of a push than a swing. Anson, who, if not the best batter in the country, is certainly the surest, seldom does anything but push the bat against the ball, only occasionally making what might be called a swing. Many of the latter class grasp the bat up short, and some of them keep the hands a few inches apart. If I were advising a novice which style to learn I should say the latter, because it is the surer, though such batters seldom hit as hard as the others.
Every ball player who pretends to play the game with his brain as well as with his body, should be able to hit in whatever direction he wishes. It may not be always possible to hit in the exact direction desired, and, of course, he cannot "place" the ball in any particular spot, but he can and should be able to hit either to left field or right, as the occasion demands. The advantage of this to the player himself and to his team cannot be overestimated. For example, there is a runner on first who signals to the batter that he will try to steal second on the second ball pitched. When he starts to run the second baseman goes for his base and the entire field between first and second is left open. Now, if the batter gets a ball anywhere within reach and taps it down toward right field, the chances are that it will be safe, and the runner from first will keep right on to third. Oftentimes, too, the batter himself will reach second on the throw from right field to third to catch the runner ahead of him. Here, now, by a little head-work, are runners on third and second, whereas, an attempt to smash the ball, trusting to luck as to where it should go, might have resulted in a double play or at least one man out and no advantage gained. Many a game is won by such scientific work, and the club that can do the most of it, day after day, will come in the winners in the finish.
When a batter is known as one who will attempt a play of this kind, it is usual for the second baseman to play well over into right field, allowing the second to be covered by the short-stop. When the batter discovers such a scheme to catch him he should continue to face toward right field, in order not to betray his intention, but when the ball is pitched, he should turn and hit toward left field. If the short-stop has gone to take the base, the space between second and third is left open just as the other side was.
A great fault with many batters is that they try to hit the ball too hard. This is especially true of the younger players, the "colts," as they are called. A young player with a reputation as a hitter in some minor league, goes into a big club and at once thinks he must hit the ball over the fence. The result is that he doesn't hit it at all, and unless he corrects his fault, he goes on "fanning the atmosphere" until he is handed his release. And yet the same player, if he would steady himself down and once get started hitting might do just as well as he did in his former club.
And this brings up the reflection that there is a great virtue in confidence. The player who goes timidly to the bat with his mind made up that he can't hit, anyhow, might just as well keep his seat. But the one who walks up, saying to himself, "Other men hit this ball, and I can, too," will be inspired by his own confidence, and for that very reason he will be more likely to hit. So it is that batting goes so much by streaks. A nine that has not made a hit for several innings will suddenly start in and bat out a victory. One player leads off with a good hit and is followed by another and another, each benefited by the confidence and enthusiasm the preceding batters have aroused.
It goes without saying that the player's eyesight must be perfect or he can never hope to be a good batter. It requires the keenest kind of an eye to keep track of the ball and tell when it is over the plate and at the proper height.
So, too, the nerves must be kept in good condition or the player will be unable to resist the temptation to hit at wide balls. A nervous batter is easily "worked," because he is so anxious to hit that he can't wait for a good ball.
But the most important attribute of all in the composition of a good batter is courage. In this term I include the self-control and the resolution by which a man will force himself to stand before the swiftest and wildest pitching without flinching, the fearlessness that can contemplate the probability of a blow from the ball without allowing the judgment to be affected. Out of ten poor batters nine are so because they are afraid of being hit. It is often asked, "Why are pitchers, as a rule, such poor batters?" and to this the answer in my own mind has always been that it is because they know so well the danger which the batter incurs. There is perhaps no such thing as absolute fearlessness; the batter who has once been hit hard--and all of them have--will never quite forget the occurrence, and he will forever after have the respect for the ball that a burned child has for the fire. But some men will not allow this feeling to overcome them.
It is absolutely necessary, then, to first conquer one's self, to fight down fear and forget everything except that the ball must be hit. To some, this seems not a difficult matter, to many it comes only after the most determined effort and schooling of the nerves, while to a few it seems to be an utter impossibility. The instinct of self-preservation is such a controlling power with them that unconsciously they draw away from the ball, and, try as they will, they cannot stand up to the plate. The player who cannot overcome this feeling will never be a good hitter, though when he finds that he is a victim he should not give up without a struggle. Some players have broken themselves of the habit of running away from the plate by stepping back with the rear foot, instead of forward with the forward foot, when in the act of hitting. Thompson, of Detroit, who is a remarkably good hitter, steps backward instead of forward. Others, like Hecker, of Louisville, step neither way, but hit as they stand, simply throwing the body forward. Every expedient should be tried before the case is given up as incurable. In my own case I was forced to change from right to left-hand hitting. I had been hit so hard several times that I grew afraid of the ball and contracted the habit of stepping away from the plate. It was a nervous fear over which I had no control, and the habit became so confirmed that I resolved to turn around left-handed. I thought that in learning to hit the new way I could avoid the mistakes into which I had before fallen. It took time and practice to learn, but the result, I think, has been an improvement. While not able to hit so hard left-handed, because the muscles are not yet so strong, I make more single hits, reach first base oftener, and score more runs.
Of the four departments of play, batting, base-running, fielding, and battery work, the most interesting is base-running. It is the most skillful, it calls into play the keenest perception and the soundest judgment, it demands agility and speed, and it requires more daring, courage, and enthusiasm than all the others combined.
Its importance as a factor in winning games cannot be estimated. We only know that a team of base-runners wins game after game in which it is out-batted and out-fielded by its opponents. No system of scoring has been or can be devised by which a full record of this kind of work can be kept. The system now in vogue, crediting the number of bases stolen, is all right so far as it goes, but it covers only a small part of the ground. Stealing bases is a part of base-running, but it is a very small part, and to say that the player who steals the most bases is therefore the best base-runner, is an altogether unwarranted statement. A quick starter, speedy runner, and clever slider might easily steal the most bases, and yet in general usefulness fall far behind some other player.
Beginning with the more mechanical features, the first qualification for a base-runner is the ability to start quickly. The distances on a ball field have been laid out with such marvelous nicety that every fraction of a second is valuable. Almost every play is close, and the loss of an instant of time is often the loss of the opportunity.
But to start quickly means more than a quick action of the muscles; it means also that the brain and body must act together. The base-runner who must wait to be told what to do will always be too late. By the time the coacher has seen the point and called to the runner and the latter has gotten himself into action, the chance has long passed. The player must be able to see the play himself and act upon it instantly, without waiting to be told.
Different runners adopt different methods for getting a long start from a base. Some take as much ground as possible before the pitch and then start the moment they see the first motion to deliver. Others stand near the base, and when they think it about time for the pitcher to pitch make a start. If they happen to guess aright they get a running start, which is, of course, a great advantage. And if they guess wrong, the pitcher is so taken by surprise that it is always possible to return to the base before he can throw. Of the two methods I prefer the latter. Remaining near the base disarms suspicion, and the runner is not tired out, by repeated feints to throw, on the part of the pitcher.
In either case the practice of standing with the feet wide apart is altogether wrong and in violation of every principle of quick starting. Unlike a sprinter, a base-runner must be in shape to start in either direction, and this can be done best and quickest by standing upright with the feet almost together. A second qualification is speed. While, as before said, mere speed will not make a base-runner, in the full sense of the term, yet, other things being equal, the faster runner will be the better base-runner. Straight away running is something to which ball players do not devote sufficient attention. While, to a certain extent, it is a natural gift, yet every man can improve himself greatly by practice, and if the spring training of players included more of this work, the result would certainly be an improvement in the base-running. Notwithstanding the importance of starting and running and sliding, there is absolutely no attention given these matters, and, consequently, the majority of players seem to be entirely ignorant of the proper "form." It would be a good investment for some clubs to employ a professional sprinter to teach their men how to stand, in order to start quickly, and how to put one foot in front of the other in the approved form.
An important aid also to successful base-running is the knack of sliding well. A player skillful in this respect will often save himself when he seems caught beyond escape. Every runner should know how to slide if he expects to accomplish anything at all, and every man will slide who has the proper interest in his work. Some players do not do so because they have never learned and are afraid to try, while others seem to care so little for the team's success that they are unwilling to take the chances of injury to themselves. As for the former class, a half hour's practice on sawdust or soft earth will show them how easily it is learned, and as for the latter, they should be made to slide, even if it be found necessary to persuade them through their pockets.
Sliding, as an art, is of recent growth, though it has long been the practice of base-runners to drop to avoid being touched. In view of its present importance it is amusing to read, in an article written on the subject some years ago, an argument against the practice indulged in by a few players of sliding to the base in order to avoid being touched by the ball.
The old style of sliding was with the feet foremost, but there are now various methods employed. Many runners now slide head foremost, throwing themselves flat on the breast and stomach. Some keep to the base-line and slide direct for the base, while others throw the body and legs out of the line and reach for the base with a hand or foot. Among those who always slide feet first and direct for the base, Hanlon is the most successful. He doesn't go down until quite close to the base, and then does not at all slacken his speed. Connor also slides feet foremost, but instead of throwing himself at full length, he maintains a sitting posture, and each of his slides is the signal for a laugh from the crowd. On account of his size and the weight behind his spikes, he is always given the entire base-line without dispute. Williamson is a very successful slider. He runs at full speed until near the base and then throws his body away from the baseman and his feet at the base. The successful runners who slide flat on the stomach are Fogarty, Tiernan, Miller, Andrews, Brown and others. Of those who go in head foremost but throw the body out of the line and away from the baseman, are Ewing, Glasscock, Pfeffer, Dalrymple and some others.
An expert base-runner will confine himself to no particular style, but, being familiar with all, will use, in each instance, the one best suited. Sometimes one style is best and sometimes another, depending upon where the ball is thrown and the position of the baseman. I consider Kelly the best all-round slider in the League, because he can, and does, use every style with equal freedom.
The American Association has some of the finest runners in Nicoll, Latham, Stovey, Purcell, and many others, but I have, unfortunately, not seen enough of their work to speak accurately of their methods.
Though stealing bases is only a part of base-running, yet even this requires considerable skill, and it is by no means always the fastest runner who succeeds the oftenest. Much depends on the start, and much, too, on the slide. I may be permitted to outline my own method: Having reached first, I signal to the next batter when I am going to steal. Then, standing near the base, well upright and with my feet together, I try to get a running start on the pitcher; that is, when I think he is about to pitch, though he has yet made no motion, I make my start. If he does pitch I get all the ground that I would have had by playing off the base in the first place, and I have, besides, the advantage of being on the move. Every one who knows anything of sprinting will appreciate the advantages of such a start. If the pitcher does not pitch I usually manage to return to the base in safety. Having secured my start, I expect that the batter will hit the ball, if it is a good one, into right-field, in which case I will keep right on to third base; or, if it is a bad ball, the batter will at east hit at it, in order, if possible, to blind the catcher and help me out. In any event I put down my head and run direct for the base, and in no case do I attempt to watch the ball. It is a foolish and often fatal mistake for a runner to keep his head turned toward the catcher while running in another direction. If the ball is hit I listen for the coacher's direction, but if it is not, I keep my eye on the baseman, and by watching his movements, the expression of his face, and the direction he is looking, I can tell as certainly just where the throw is going as though I saw the ball. If he stands in front of the line I run back of him, and if he is back of the line I slide in front. In every case, and whether I go in head or feet foremost, I throw my body away from the baseman so as to give him the least possible surface to touch with the ball.
There is an advantage in sliding head foremost, in that the runner, by falling forward, gains the length of his body and the reach of his arm, whereas in sliding feet foremost, he loses this. But if one always goes in head foremost, the baseman, knowing what to expect and standing in no fear of injury, will block the base-line. It seems necessary to occasionally throw the spikes in first in order to retain one's right to the line and command a proper respect from opposing basemen.
In order that the runner may not be continually cut and bruised by gravel or rough ground he should protect his hips and knees by pads. Some have the padding stitched to the inside of the pants, and for the knees this is the better plan, though it interferes somewhat with the washing of the uniform. But for the hips I prefer the separate pads, which may be bought at any store for the sale of base-ball goods. The best make is buttoned to a strap which hinds tightly the lower portion of the body, and this latter feature is itself of great advantage; not only as a matter of comfort and safety, but also for the sake of decency, every player should wear one of these straps, the same as athletes do in other branches of sport.
But, after all, the important factors in successful base-running are yet to be spoken of, and the foregoing points are merely mechanical aids. There is no other department of play in which intelligence plays so important a part, and no matter how clever the player as a starter, runner, or slider, these faculties will be of little value unless directed by a quick perception and sound judgment. Indeed, they will often serve only as traps to lead him into difficulty.
By its very nature a quick perception is an inborn faculty of the mind, and while it may be developed by constant use, no amount of coaching can create it. There are some players who are no more capable of becoming good base-runners than of living under water, so unfitted are they by nature. The power of grasping a situation and acting upon it at once is something which cannot be taught.
In order, however, to know when a fair opportunity presents itself, the runner must be familiar with the chances of play, and this comes only from experience and close observation. A runner who is thoroughly alive to all the possibilities of the game will see a chance and gain a point where another of less ready perception would find no opening. The former has learned to marshal at a glance all the attendant probabilities and possibilities and to estimate, in the same instant, the chances of success or failure.
It is not, however, always best to accept an opportunity when presented, even where the chances of success are largely in the runner's favor. The stages of the game must be taken into consideration, and what may be a perfectly commendable play in one situation may be altogether reckless and foolhardy in another. Therefore, the most important faculty of all, the pendulum which regulates, and the rudder which guides, is judgment. An illustration may make my meaning clear. In the ninth inning, with a runner on first base and the score a tie, it may be a good play for the runner to attempt to steal second, because from there a single hit may send him home. But suppose that, instead of the score being a tie, the side at bat is four or five runs behind, of what possible use will the steal be now, even if successful? One run will do no good, and the only chance of victory is in the following batters also getting around the bases. But the hits or errors by which this must be accomplished will also send the first runner home without a steal, so that in attempting to steal he takes a chance which is of no advantage if successful, and perhaps a fatal mistake if not.
Again, suppose there is a runner on third and none out and the batter hits a short fly to the out-field, on the catch of which it is doubtful whether the runner can score. If the next batter is a good hitter, he will not make the attempt, trusting to the next hit for a better chance. But if the next batter is weak and not likely to offer as good a chance he may decide to try for the run on the small chance already presented. These are only given as examples and they might be multiplied, because the same problem will always present itself in a more or less imperative form every time the runner has a play to make. The question he must always decide is, "Is this the best play, everything considered?" It goes without saying that he must answer this for himself. In conclusion, I will describe some plays that may arise and venture some observations, running through which the reader may discern the general principles of base-running.
There is an element in base-ball which is neither skill nor chance, and yet it is a most important factor of success. It is the unseen influence that wins in the face of the greatest odds. It is the element, the presence of which in a team is often called "luck," and its absence a "lack of nerve." It is sometimes spoken of as "young blood," because the younger players, as a general rule, are more susceptible to its influence. Its real name is enthusiasm, and it is the factor, in the influence of which, is to be found the true explanation of the curious standing of some clubs. Between two teams of equal or unequal strength the more enthusiastic will generally win. The field work may be slow and steady, but at the bat and on the bases there must be dash and vim.
If, for example, it be found that a catcher is a poor thrower, or a pitcher slow in his movements, every fair runner reaching first should immediately attempt to steal second, and even third. This style of play will demoralize an opposing team quicker than anything else, and even if unsuccessful at first, and the first few runners be caught, it should still be kept up for a couple of innings, because it will, at least, affect the nerves of some of the opposing players, and if a break does come, the victory will be an easy one. Every batter should be ready to take his place quickly at the bat, and hit at the first good ball; every runner should be on the move; and with plenty of coaching, and everybody full of enthusiasm, it is only necessary to get the run-getting started in order to have it go right along. This is the game that is winning in base-ball to-day, as every observant spectator knows.
Base-running begins the moment the ball is hit. There are some players who don't know how to drop their bats and get away from the plate. Some stand until they see whether the hit is safe, and they run to first with the head twisted around to watch the ball. The instant the ball is hit, no matter where it goes, the batter should drop the bat and start for the base; leaving the ball to take care of itself, he should put down his head and run, looking neither to the right nor the left. Every foot gained may be of vital importance, for in most cases the runner is thrown out by the distance of only a few feet.
Some runners make a mistake in jumping for the base with the last step. It not only loses time but makes the decision so plain to the umpire that the runner fails to receive his fair share of benefit from close plays.
A runner to first on a base hit or fly to the outfield should always turn first base and lead well down toward second, so that if the ball is fumbled or handled slowly or missed, he may be able to reach second. And by hurrying the out-fielder he increases the probability of an error.
A runner should always run at the top of his speed, except in the single case where he feels himself to be clearly within reach of his base and then slackens up in order to draw the throw.
At no other time is there anything to be gained by slow running, and often there is much to be lost. In the game spoken of elsewhere in this book, between Providence and Chicago, which virtually decided the championship for 1882, Hines was on first when Joe Start hit what looked like a home-run over the centre-field fence. The wind caught the ball and held it back so that it struck the top of the netting and fell back into the field. Hines, thinking the hit perfectly safe, was jogging around the bases when the ball was returned to the in-field. Start had run fast and overtaken Hines, and the result was that instead of a run scored, a man on third and no one out, both runners were put out and we lost the game by one run, and the championship by that one game. A player has no right to "think this or that;" his sole duty is to run hard until the play is over.
When a runner is on first and a hit is made he should run fast to second, and if possible force the throw to third. Every such throw offers an opportunity for error, and the more of these the runner can force the more chances there will be in his favor. By getting quickly to second he is in a position to go on to third if the ball is fumbled or slowly handled, or returned to the wrong point on the in-field.
So, too, a runner on second, when a hit is made, should always force the throw to the home plate, even if he does not intend to try for the run. In order to do this he must run hard to third and turn the base as though he really meant to go home. Any hesitation or looking around will fail of the object. The throw home gives the player who hit the ball a chance to reach second base.
In a game where there is plenty of hitting runners should obviously take fewer chances than where the hitting is light.
It is usually advisable for a good runner, who leas reached first with two men out, to attempt to steal second, because then one hit will likely bring him home; whereas if he stays on first it will require two hits, or two errors in succession, and these are not likely to come, with two men already out.
The only times to steal third are, first, when there is only one out, for then a hit, a sacrifice, or a long fly will score the run. If there is no one out, the chances are that a runner on second will eventually score anyhow, and if there are two out there is little advantage gained by stealing third. It still requires a hit or an error to score the run, and the same would probably score it from second as easily as from third. Second, it may sometimes be advisable for a runner on second base to steal third, even when there are two out, provided there is also a runner on first. Because, if successful, the runner on first also gets to second, and the result is two stolen bases front the one chance, and a hit will now likely score two runs instead of one.
When there is a runner on second or third with no more than one out, and the batter makes what is apparently a long, safe hit, the runner should hold the base until he has seen, beyond a doubt, that the hit is safe. If safe, he will still have ample time to reach home, while if, by any chance, it be caught, he will nevertheless get third or home, as the case may be. A couple of seasons back a New York runner was on third, with no one out, when the batter made what looked like a home-run hit. The runner on third, instead of waiting to make sure, started home; the ball was caught and, though he managed to return to third, he did not score, as he otherwise might easily have done. The next two batters went out, the score was left a tie, and we finally lost an important game.
Succeeding base-runners should have private signals so that they may communicate their intentions without apprising the opposing players. A runner on first who intends to steal second should inform the batter, so that the batter may hit the ball, or at least strike at it. A runner on second should notify a runner on first of his intention to steal third, so that the other may at the same time steal second. When there are runners on first and third each should understand perfectly what the other purposes doing so they can help one another with the play.
In such a situation the runner on first will generally attempt to steal second, and if the catcher throws down to catch him there are several things which the runner on third may do. First, as soon as he sees the throw to second he may start for home, and if he has previously decided to do this, he should take plenty of ground front third base. Second, he may not start for home on the throw, but if the runner from first gets caught between first and second, it will then be necessary for him to try to score. For this purpose he carefully takes as much ground from third as possible, while the other player is being chased backward and forward. Finally, when the ball is tossed by the second baseman to the first baseman, he makes a dash for home. The idea of waiting until the ball is thrown to the first baseman is because the latter has his back to the plate, and not only cannot see the play so well but must turn around to throw. Third, if the circumstances are such that he thinks best not to try to score on the throw, he should, at least, on seeing the throw to second, make a strong feint to run in order to draw the second baseman in and allow the runner from first to reach second.
There is a pretty play by which one run may be scored when there are runners on first and second. It is, however, a desperate chance and should only be resorted to in an extremity. The runner on first leads off the base so far as to draw the throw from the catcher, and, seeing the throw, the runner on second goes to third. Then, while the first runner is playing between first and second, the runner now on third scores as described in the preceding play, waiting until the ball is passed to the first baseman. If the second baseman is a poor thrower it may be best to make the dash for home when the ball is thrown to him.
A runner on second may receive a signal from the batsman that the latter intends to try a "bunt," in which case the runner will try to steal third. If the bunt is made the runner reaches third, but if the bunt does not succeed, the attempt draws the third baseman in close and leaves the base uncovered for the runner.
Without particularizing further, it will be seen that a base-runner must not only have some wits but he must have them always with him. Exactly the same combinations never conic up, new ones are continually being presented, and in every case he must decide for himself what is best. In view of all the circumstances, he makes a quick mental estimate of the chances and acts accordingly. Sometimes for-time will be against him, but if his judgment is sound he is sure to be successful in the majority of attempts.