The Black Sox scandal is now almost a century old.  The persons involved are all long gone and the scandal itself, though it floats around in American history and mythology like a memory that won't go away, is primarily of interest to baseball historians and, to a lesser extent, baseball fans and, to no extent, to people who don't know or care about something so old. This is sad because beyond the fact that it is a baseball story (of sorts) it also is a "loss of innocence" tale coming, as it did, right after the Great War, the War to End All Wars, had ended and America was moving forward with it's dreams and hopes; the scandal shattered those dreams.

Yet it will not go away.

Baseball historians have written several books on the subject and even novelists have used it as inspiration for their works, usually to address a higher issue. In 1952 Bernard Malamud published his famous baseball novel, "The Natural", which was turned in a movie in 1984 starring Robert Redford as the book's hero, Roy Hobbs. Roy Hobbs was based on the figure of the most famous of the Black Sox, "Shoeless" Joe Jackson.  In the novel, Hobbs is offered a bribe to lose and, unlike the 1984 movie, he takes the money and, in his final at bat, he strikes out; the movie ends with a crushed Roy Hobbs standing all alone in the rain, totally aware of his crime. The ending in the movie, however, changes that and has Hobbs, in the angelic vision of Robert Redford, hitting the game winning home run.

In 1982, WP Kinsella wrote his mysterious novel, "Shoeless Joe", which became the 1989 smash hit, "Field of Dreams".  When the director of that film was told to change the name because they felt no one would know who Shoeless Joe actually was, they came up with the title "Field of Dreams".  The director, Phil Alden Robinson apologized to Knsella for having to change the title.  It was then that Robinson learned that Kinsella himself had to change the title of HIS novel for the sake of his publishers.  His original title for his novel was "The Dream Field".  

Then in 1988, to complete our "Shoeless Joe Jackson Trilogy," director John Sayles adapted the historical study of the scandal which was written by Eliot Asinov and titled "8 Men Out" into a movie of the same name.  Today Asinov's work is regarded with suspect and most baseball historians register it under the heading of "historical novel".  (When Sayles made the movie Asinov appears as National league president John Heydler. An entire segment is devoted to the scandal in Ken Burns' series, "Baseball."

But as an artist (and devoted baseball fan) I come to the subject with the eye OF an artist and not just as historian.  It is when you look at this story thru the eyes of mythology that it reveals some of it's never-ending power.

One aspect of this can be seen in the famous movie (based on a stage play of the same name) "Damn Yankees".  In this version a aged Joe Boyd is a long-suffering fan of the wretched, cellar-dwelling Washington Senators.  He makes a deal with the Devil wherein he sells his soul for the chance to be young again and to take the Senators to the World Series.  He gets his chance and, disappearing from his life and his wife, re-emerges as the fabulous ball player, Joe Hardy.  (Even in the musical there is a song which refers to him as "Shoeless Joe from Hannibal.Mo." which is yet another invocation of "Shoeless" Joe Jackson, although the real one was not from Missouri but from South Carolina).  Joe breaks his deal with the Devil who turns him back into an old man.....yet as a rapidly aging old man, Joe runs down and makes a catch to insure that the Senators get to the World Series; he then disappears from the ball field, reappearing in the arms of his wife, hugging her and loving her as the Devil fades away. So, there is a direct reference to Faust and the legend of a person who would sell their integrity to achieve an otherwise unattainable desire.  There is no question that, for whatever excuse these "8 men out" would later give, their desire was wealthy as paltry as that might seem today.

There are even hints of "King Lear" in this scandal.  Lear, as an old man, wants to leave his kingdom to his three daughters.  Tragedy ensues.  But in relationship to the Black Sox scandal, I don't see the Lear character as the White Sox owner, Charles Comiskey, but rather, the team's manager, William "Kid" Gleason.  He had to work with these players every day and guide them to victory in 1919 and into the World Series where at least 8 of them would betray him.  This had to be crushing for Gleason.

My desire is to re-tell this oft-told take using contemporary art to suggest that this specific story, though almost 100 years old, is still a relevant cautionary tale about greed, envy, and the necessity for one to maintain their own integrity at all costs. But the story is so full of characters, many of them shady at best, that one would think it was a brainchild of Fyodor Dostoevsky, a complex tale with a cast of thousands!  And as each figure, well-known or mysterious, is part of the integrity of the whole, each figure must be represented in the series.  

Having won the World Series in 1917, the White Sox floundered in 1918 when many of the players had to "work or fight" in the war effort.  But they came roaring back in 1919 to win the American League pennant and head off to the World Series against what was regarded as a lesser National league team, the Cincinnati Reds. But in the weeks before the series began, a mixture of gamblers and disgruntled/greedy ballplayers got together and decided to throw the Series.  The amount to be paid to the crooked ball players by the gamblers varies according to your sources.  But, in terms if the dollar in 1919 it was a goodly chunk of change.

Of the 8 men who got caught up in the scandal, only one of them, pitching ace, Eddie Cicotte, was smart enough to demand his full $10,000.00 up front.  The other 7 (6 if we discount Buck Weaver who did not go along with the sandal but was thrown out of baseball because he had knowledge of the fix) being the bumpkins that they were, believed that the gamblers would treat them fair.  When it was all over and he had been thrown out of baseball, centerfielder Happy Felsch was very candid in an interview he gave to a sportswriter.  He had been promised $10,000.00 but was only paid $5,000.00.  Had we won the World Series on the level, Felsch remarked, he would have had that same $5,000.00 as his share of the victory.  The joke, he said, was on him.  He had lost his integrity and his ability to play baseball, the only thing he knew how to do.

After their expulsion from the game in 1921, the eight men fanned out of the country and lived the rest of their lives in shame and silence.  Only Shoeless Joe Jackson returned to his home in Greenville, South Carolina, and was embraced as a hero.  Though he could neither read not write, his wife Kate steered them into becoming a very successful and popular pair, well loved and admired by their neighbors.

There is a telling story however...one time, long after his playing days were over, Ty Cobb stopped by Joe's liquor store to buy some bourbon.  The two old adversaries carried on the banter of customer and stored keeper.  Finally, in frustration, Cobb blurred out, "don't you know me, Joe?" Quietly Joe Jackson answered, "sure I know you, Ty.  I just didn't think anyone from up there would want to ever talk to me again."  So he was keenly aware of his shame.  In 1951 there was an effort made to have Joe come on television and tell his story in the hopes that he would be understood and forgiven and maybe gain entrance in the Baseball Hall of Fame.  Sadly, before he could appear on television he collapsed and died of a heart attack in December of 1951.  Of the "8 men out," Joe was the first to die.  To this day he remains illegible for induction into the Hall.

Buck Weaver, the one player who knew of the fix but took no part in the throwing of the games, remained in Chicago.  Several times he wrote letters to the Commissioner of Baseball to have his name cleared; even long past his playing days were over he still wanted his good name returned to him and his family.  It was not to be, and when he collapsed on a south side Chicago street in January of 1956, he died indicted. So, here we have the expulsion from an American "Eden", the baseball field, and the eternal damnation of the men who participated in the fix.  As Marc Anthony said over a slain Caesar, "the evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones."

As 2019 approaches the city of Chicago will once again be reminded of this fascinating saga.  I do not think it js something to be ashamed of.....indeed, as a cautionary tale its eternal message (and eternal it is) should be restated in the hopes that individuals will recognize the importance of personal integrity.

Thom Ross
Lamy NM