in time, wheeling toward Cobb to block him off the plate. The collision at home literally shook the earth. The Yankees catcher flew backwards on impact, his cap and one of his shinguards soaring through the air. Cobb scored the run, but more important was standing up for a teammate—something that Vitt greatly appreciated. When the two players met at the Detroit bench, Cobb said, “I guess he’ll be a little more careful about the right of way next time!”
Vitt hustled his way through seven full seasons for Detroit. His finest year was 1915, when he had career highs in just about every hitting category. On the defensive side, he led all American League third basemen in putouts and assists. All was not a bed of roses playing for Detroit, though. He had the unwelcome distinction of taking a Walter Johnson fastball squarely between the eyes. Vitt crumpled to the ground and lay unconscious for several minutes. He slowly opened his eyes, glad to be back among the living. Teammate Donie Bush stood above him, kicking Vitt in the legs and yelling at him to get up and quit his stalling. Sympathy was not a quality common among rough-and-tumble ballplayers in the early part of the twentieth century.
After ten years in the American League, the last three with Boston, Vitt signed on with Salt Lake City. He played two more years before putting away his glove and starting on his long managerial career. From 1926 through 1934 he ran the Hollywood Stars, winning a minor league pennant in 1930. He managed Oakland in 1935, then moved all the way across the country to pilot the Newark Bears of the International League. He had tremendous success there, winning the 1937 pennant by a staggering twenty-seven and a half games. The Bears topped off the regular season by winning the Little World Series against the Columbus Redbirds. Vitt got the attention of Major League owners, particularly Alva Bradley. He liked everything about Vitt, especially his managerial motto, “Win everything in sight and never stop winning.”
One area that Bradley may have overlooked was the incredible talent on the Newark Bears, a Yankee Farm team. With up-and-coming stars like Joe Gordon, Charlie Keller, Spud Chandler, and George McQuinn, it did not take a fabulous manager to guide them into first place. Possibly Bradley thought any manager who could win a league by such a dominating margin should be able to help the troublesome Indians. With that in mind, the reins were handed to the forty-seven-year-old Oscar Vitt.
The 1938 edition of the Cleveland Indians featured a lineup of proven veterans along with several talented young players on the verge of breaking out. The only experienced addition was Rollie Hemsley, anticipated to battle Frankie Pytlak for the starting catcher’s job. The outfield seemed already set, with five-time All-Star Earl Averill in center field, Bruce Campbell still holding down the right-field job, and last year’s acquisition Moose Solters in left. All three were capable of hitting over .300 and driving in a large share of the runs.
Big Hal Trosky had a lock on the first baseman’s job, usually leading the team in home runs and RBIs every season since 1933. Trosky had the misfortune to play in the American League at the same time as superstars Lou Gehrig, Jimmie Foxx, and Hank Greenberg, who left Trosky somewhere in the shadows. Sammy Hale had been with the Indians for six seasons, alternating between second and third base. Hale had arm issues that hampered his throwing, although his skill at the plate had not been affected. Lyn Lary entered his second year as the Indians shortstop with little competition. The front office expected him to play steady ball and be a leader out on the field.
The pitching staff had proven winners in Johnny Allen and Mel Harder. Bob Feller had shown a world of potential in his first two campaigns, and now was expected to be among the best pitchers in the game. Willis Hudlin and Earl Whitehill were the only other candidates for the starting rotation. Both pitchers were well past their primes, with Whitehall at thirty-nine years old and Hudlin thirty-two. Between them they had spent twenty-seven years in the American League. If either one had just had ten or twelve wins left in his arm, that would be enough to complement the other three starters.
Oscar Vitt’s ball club worked out in New Orleans to get in shape for the upcoming season. Normally spring training came and went without any front-page news or shocking revelations. The players sweated through workouts, talked about how great they felt, and let reporters know big things were up ahead for the new season. The sportswriters sent home optimistic stories, exhibition game summaries, and the comings and goings of the players on the fringe. There was always time for everybody to go out in the evenings and check out the swinging night life in downtown New Orleans.
For the most part the players had their fun but knew enough to get back to the Roosevelt Hotel at a reasonable hour. At the end of March, Rollie Hemsley, unable to restrain himself with all the enticing nightclubs and hot spots just a few blocks away, went out for a late-night adventure. He partied hard, waking up in his hotel room in the late morning hours too sick to take part in batting practice. He notified Vitt and the coaches, then went to his room to try and sleep it off. A photographer had followed Rollie back to the hotel. He tried to get a picture as he entered his room, but Rollie slammed the door in the photographer’s face. About a half-hour later someone knocked loudly at his door. Exhausted and hungover, he opened it to find the same man still trying to get a photo. They struggled for a moment, then Rollie pulled out a dresser drawer and smashed it over the photographer’s head. The camera fell to the floor, broken into pieces.
Soon the residents and staff at the high-class Roosevelt heard about the incident. Oscar Vitt suspended Rollie, tacking on a significant fine. The regular season had not yet begun, and Hemsley had already started to rack up discipline penalties. Fans began to wonder if the hard-living Rollie would be on the club on opening day. Gordon Cobbledick wrote in the Plain Dealer, “[Hemsley’s] leadership along the primrose path might take some other Indians astray, and there probably aren’t any other who can stand the pace he sets.” The question remaining was whether the nervous front office could stand the pace either.
With Hemsley’s status in the air, the Indians left New Orleans to make the long trek back to Cleveland. On the way were exhibition stops in many of the southern cities. For the fifth year in a row, the New York Giants traveled with the Indians, providing the opposition at many of the locations. There were games in Alexandria, Louisiana; Birmingham, Alabama; Meridian, Mississippi; and several other cities and towns. Crowds averaged between three and five thousand per stop. The clubs got a large share of the gate from local promoters eager to host a Major League ball game and make something of a profit. It was win-win for all concerned, particularly the fans who traveled from all around the southern states to see a Carl Hubbell or a Bob Feller pitch three innings. In the days before television, the exhibition games were a once-a-year delight for the populations that lived great distances from the Major League cities.
The extended barnstorming trip had its finale in Charleston, West Virginia. From there the Indians rode home to Cleveland to prepare themselves for the opener. The starting lineup had one significant change in it. Oscar Vitt penciled in a new third baseman with just two years of minor league experience. He had shown immense promise in spring training, enough to win the job outright. His name was Ken Keltner.
Kenneth Frederick Keltner was born on the south side of Milwaukee on October 31, 1916. He attended high school there, playing just about every sport available, including ice hockey. While a member of the football team, a nagging ankle injury prompted him to concentrate on baseball alone. Keltner played amateur ball for several different teams, including one backed by a mortuary. When the season ended, he switched to fast-pitch softball, garnering all kinds of attention for his exceptional talent.
In 1936 a local umpire noted Keltner’s skills and accompanied him on a visit to Allen Sothoron, the manager of the Milwaukee Brewers. A brief tryout convinced Sothoron, a one-time Major League pitcher, to offer a contract. Keltner signed and was sent to Class D Fieldale, Virginia, a member of the Bi-State League. Though a long distance from home, Keltner quickly developed into an outstanding ballplayer. In one season at Fieldale, he batted an impressive .360 while powering 12 triples and bashing 33 home runs. The Brewers were satisfied enough to bring Keltner back to Milwaukee for the 1937 season. He made the transition flawlessly, knocking out 27 home runs and hitting .310.
