with a .376 batting average, 225 hits, twenty-five home runs, and 153 RBIs. The next year he played almost as well, batting .350 with 216 hits and sixteen triples. Evans would say later that Porter had been ready for the majors at least three or four years before. He would join the Indians right in the middle of his peak years.
One of the great things about the left-handed-hitting Porter was his unique batting style. He could not stand still in the batter’s box, moving and fidgeting until the ball was delivered, with very quick wrist and arm movements similar to cracking a whip. Over the years he’d had a number of nicknames, including Wiggledy, Twitchy, and Wiggles. During an exhibition game between New York and Baltimore, Yankees manager Miller Huggins had tried to get Porter to change his style and relax at the plate. The experiment proved a failure as “Twitchy” started to roll up the strikeouts. He soon reverted back to fidgeting and the strikeouts diminished.
Not only did the Indians pay out the $30,000 for Porter, they had to award him a decent salary. At Baltimore he was collecting $5,000 a year. Evans would have to up the ante to get Porter to sign his new contract. In addition to his baseball salary, Porter had a sausage manufacturing business he ran in the off-season. He was not a starving ballplayer by any means.
While the Cleveland faithful were buzzing about their new outfielder, Billy Evans was on a train to California. His mission was to have a conference with Charlie Graham, the president of the San Francisco Seals. There were two star ballplayers on the Seals that had caught Evans’s eye. Number one was Smead Jolley, a power-hitting left fielder who batted .404 during the 1928 season. Due to the favorable weather, the Pacific Coast League played a considerably longer season than the Major Leagues, and in 191 games Jolley had pounded out forty-five home runs. The other player, Earl Averill, was not as prolific but did bat .359 with 33 home runs and 270 hits. Evans had some trouble deciding which man was a better prospect, but a letter from former Indians pitcher Walter “Duster” Mails had urged the team to pick Averill. Mails had been one of the stars of the 1920 World Champion team. He pitched tremendously in game six, beating the Brooklyn Robins 1–0. The next day Cleveland won it all. Mails did not last long in the big leagues, but knew talent when he saw it. In the letter he told the club Averill was a fantastic hitter, especially when he had two strikes on him.
Evans took the letter quite seriously. Manager Peckinpaugh reminded him that the Indians would soon be in a new stadium with a mammoth outfield. Jolley was at best an average outfielder. Earl Averill was fast and could cover a lot of ground. When Evans arrived on the West Coast he came to a decision to go after the better fielder. Averill was his man.
Just three days after the acquisition of Dick Porter, the announcement came over the newswires that Earl Averill was purchased by Cleveland for $40,000 and two players. As in the Porter deal, the two players to be named later were worth $5,000 each. If San Francisco was not keen on the players chosen, the Indians would pay an additional $10,000 instead. That made the total value of the two separate deals a whopping $90,000. Newspapers all around the country had a field day writing about the money shelled out by Cleveland. There was no doubt that Alva Bradley and his partners were playing for keeps.
Earl Averill came from the small town of Snohomish, Washington, in the northwestern part of the state. He was born on May 21, 1902. His father died when Earl was only eighteen months old. The Averill family, mother and sons, all went to work to scrape out a living. As a young boy, Earl would play baseball in a converted potato patch. The neighborhood boys had pulled out the stumps, cleared the rocks, and there was a perfect diamond to play on. They fashioned baseballs from old shoes and played until the makeshift balls fell apart. Snohomish did not have any organized baseball for Earl to get involved with. As a freshman in high school he attempted to make the team, but a problem with his throwing arm kept him on the sidelines. Soon Earl would quit high school and go to work on road crews, hauling lumber, and anything else he could find to earn a few bucks. All the physical labor helped him develop a large set of shoulders and strong arms that would come in handy in the near future.
A few years later, the owner of the local pool hall determined that the town should have a baseball club. Averill got a chance to play and immediately earned a reputation as a tremendous hitter and outfielder. The Snohomish Bearcats did not pay their players, but the pool hall owner passed the hat after games. He kept most of the money for himself, but Earl usually pocketed a small share when the hat was full. There is a story that one day Averill belted an important game-winning home run. Before he left the field the excited spectators presented him with a total of fifty dollars in coin. No doubt, the men in the stands had a few bets out on the winning team.
In the early days of the twentieth century, few baseball scouts found their way to Snohomish. The scouting business was fairly unorganized and likely to be hit-and-miss. If you played baseball in places like Bellingham, Everett, and the surrounding area, chances were you were likely to stay there. Team officials and managers relied on tips from fans, former players, and sportswriters to augment any scouts they may have had on the payroll. The likelihood of a team in Chicago, Boston, or New York discovering a prospect hundreds or thousands of miles away was slim.
Earl Averill found himself in a difficult situation. No matter how well he played for the Snohomish Bearcats, he had little chance of being noticed. The local folks realized Earl had a rare talent that might just enable him to earn a living playing professional baseball. In the early 1920s they took up a collection and gave Earl enough traveling money to get him on a train to Seattle. Once there, he would report to the ball club for a tryout. The Snohomish fans believed it would be just a matter of time for Earl to be in Major Leagues.
To everyone’s shock and anger, the Seattle manager deemed that the new kid was another small-town boy and sent him packing. Averill was just about average height and weighed somewhere between 150 and 160 pounds. The Seattle boss took a quick glance and believed Earl did not have the look of a ballplayer. Several years later he would kick himself for the hasty decision. Averill hopped on a train back to Snohomish, wondering if he would ever get his chance.
Even though the Seattle trip went poorly, Averill was not the type to throw in the towel. In 1924 he saved a few dollars and loaded his ancient Oldsmobile for a trip south to San Francisco. He brought his glove, bats, and uniform in hopes of getting another tryout, this time with the San Francisco Seals. Regardless of his skills, Earl did not have any formal training in the art of baseball. He knew little of fundamentals, which the Seals coaches noticed right away. They did recognize his skill at driving a baseball and his cannon of a throwing arm. He was not ready for the Pacific Coast League, but he was signed to a contract and sent to the Bellingham club for the summer. Back in a familiar setting, he played well, learning how to throw to the right base and hit the cutoff man. For his efforts he received fifteen dollars per game.
The next year, the Seals retained their rights to Earl, transferring him to a club in Montana. He blossomed there, hitting .430 for the season. San Francisco had Lloyd Waner, the younger brother of Paul, playing center field. Waner did not hit well there, which led the Seals to seek another outfielder to replace him. In 1926 it would be Earl Averill.
The fans back in Snohomish had to be ecstatic that one of their own was a step away from the big leagues. Earl became one of the best all-around players on the West Coast. The Seals had a superb outfield with Averill, Smead Jolley, and Roy Johnson. Before long the trio began attracting scouts by the dozens. Billy Evans did not hesitate, and the Indians finally got a center fielder the likes of which they had not seen since Tris Speaker.
While those in the Cleveland front office were congratulating themselves, a slight problem developed. Averill informed the Seals he wanted a piece of the action: part of the sale price. Some ballplayers who were sold for a considerable amount of money took a hard stand with management. A number of them believed they were responsible for the sale in the first place and should be cut in on the deal. The ones who had been around a while knew to ask for a clause in their contract that guaranteed part of the sale price. This was done in the event the player was sold to a Major League team. Ultimately, most
