his second campaign, batting less than .250. After only twenty-four games, the Red Sox shipped him to St. Louis for second baseman Oscar Melillo. The change in scenery proved to be a great move for Solters. He finished the year with 18 home runs and 112 RBIs. In a game against the Detroit Tigers, Moose showed awesome power, crushing three straight home runs off Elden Auker. In his next trip up he lined a pitch deep toward the right-field wall. Pete Fox raced back and made a leaping catch to keep Solters from at least extra bases. Even with Fox’s circus catch, Moose still had a tremendous day, gaining notoriety as one of the American League’s better power hitters.
Living in St. Louis, Moose had the opportunity to pal around with Joe Medwick, his counterpart with the Cardinals. Solters would proudly tell anybody listening that the two of them were the only Hungarian American ballplayers in Major League Baseball. Whenever they met, one would yell, “Hey Polack!” The other would yell back “How ya’ doin Hunkie?” Then both would sit down, have some laughs, and catch up on the latest gossip.
In 1936 Solters played to an even higher level, knocking in 134 runs, good for fifth in the American League. Manager Rogers Hornsby worked with Moose to get him to set his feet in the back of the batter’s box. The new stance allowed him to see the ball just a fraction longer. The results were positive, allowing Solters to make better contact and become a real threat. Cleveland took notice, starting talks with the Browns front office to acquire Moose. It would take a six-player deal, but Cleveland got their man for the 1937 season.
With Johnny Allen seemingly healthy again and Moose Solters asserting himself, the only Cleveland player still unable to contribute was Bob Feller. He had seen an army of doctors, yet his elbow still badly ached whenever he tried to throw. The first week of June, Cy Slapnicka announced Feller was leaving town to visit friends in Milwaukee and get some additional rest. Stuart Bell, the sportswriter for the Cleveland Press, did not buy any part of the story. Bell had been around the block more than a few times and knew when something other than the truth was being peddled. Investigating the flimsy tale, he discovered that Feller had an appointment with a specialist in arm injuries. The physician had invented a machine that could take one’s arm and massage it for an extended period. Though the treatment was experimental, Slapnicka had run out of ideas on how to fix the most valuable arm on the Indians pitching staff.
Cleveland reporters were constantly badgering the general manager on why Feller’s arm issues were taking so long. Frustrated, he tried to arrange the Milwaukee trip without arousing suspicion. But after Stuart Bell foiled his secret plans, all the Cleveland papers had stories about exactly what the Indians were up to and why Feller had to leave the city.
On first glimpse, the Milwaukee trip seemed to be a success. Feller had several mechanical treatments that significantly reduced his constant elbow pain. Back in town, the moment came to test his throwing arm under game conditions. Feller returned to League Park and started throwing off the pitching mound. Within minutes the same discomfort returned. Slapnicka had few choices remaining before declaring Feller on the shelf for the rest of the year. The only possible solution was to see the bonesetting doctor Lefty Weisman had earlier recommended. Ironically, his office was just a home run’s distance from League Park. Feller took the short walk and had Dr. A. L. Austin do a thorough examination. After some manipulation, the physician believed the ulna bone, connecting to the elbow, had been dislocated. He firmly grabbed Feller’s wrist with one hand, then popped the elbow hard with the other. Feller felt a tremendous pain, then nothing. The arm appeared to be fine.
The doctor reassured Feller he could start throwing whenever he felt ready. By today’s standards he would have rested for weeks; however, the Indians’ fortunes were reaching a critical point. The front office, worried about dwindling gate receipts, wanted Feller starting as soon as possible. A day later he resumed throwing, this time curveballs and all. Two days went by and the arm had miraculously responded. Feller announced to the papers he had the green light to pitch full-time.
The euphoria over Feller’s return was only momentary, as bad news came from Boston. On June 20 Johnny Allen complained of severe stomach pains. A local doctor examined him and determined his appendix was moments away from bursting. Allen was taken to Palmer Memorial Hospital, holding ice bags on his tender stomach. A hospital surgeon performed the surgery, and Allen came through without any complications, yet he would likely be on the shelf for a month if not more. The starting rotation would not be at full strength until August.
Steve O’Neill chose to start Feller on July 4 at Municipal Stadium. Alva Bradley had committed to play a series of games at the new facility, the most since he had taken the team back to League Park after the 1933 season. Bradley had incurred the wrath of the city of Cleveland by exercising an out clause in his lease. He claimed the ball club had lost money playing at the 80,000-seat stadium and thus elected to move out of downtown and relocate to ancient but comfortable League Park. Now, four years later, Bradley had a notion that a playing a select number of games at the lakefront might attract some bigger crowds.
The Yankees were always a terrific draw, and holiday games usually brought exceptional numbers. In addition, Cleveland was bringing back the highly popular Great Lakes Exposition for a second summer. This large venue had state-of-the-art attractions, restaurants, and exhibits and happened to be located next to Municipal Stadium, along the edge of Lake Erie. Alva Bradley expected a large group of out-of-town visitors to stop by the Expo, then take in a ball game.
The return of Bob Feller drew a total of 35,000 eager fans to the stadium—an excellent crowd, yet nowhere close to a record. Jo-Jo White led off for the Tigers by drawing a walk. Feller then ignited the crowd by striking out Bill Rogell, Charlie Gehringer, and the always dangerous Hank Greenberg. During the flurry of strikes, White stole second and third, but could not advance any further. The Indians scored in the bottom half of the inning when Roy Hughes singled, went to third on Earl Averill’s base hit, then scored on Hal Trosky’s sacrifice fly.
Feller cruised along until the top of the fourth. He had been throwing mostly fastballs with a few curves mixed in to keep the Tigers off balance. Greenberg led off the top of the inning with a walk. Goose Goslin hit a grounder to Lyn Lary, who kicked the ball around for an error. Rudy York then laid down a perfect bunt, just inside the third-base line. Feller picked up the ball and heard catcher Frankie Pytlak yell, “First base!” At the same time, Detroit third-base coach Del Baker yelled even louder, “Third, third!” Feller turned and threw a strike to third base. Unfortunately, no Indian stood near the bag, and the ball rolled all the way into the left-field corner. By the time Moose Solters recovered the baseball, Greenberg had scored while Gehringer reached third and York second.
Probably somewhat rattled, Feller grooved a fastball to right fielder Pete Fox, who lined a base hit for two more runs. The Indians now trailed 3–1. At this point the young pitcher bore down, retiring the side without any further destruction. Manager O’Neill, despite hearing a chorus of boos, told Feller he was finished for the day. It had been only four innings, still Feller showed the form of the kid who had dazzled the American League at the end of the 1936 season. He had allowed only one hit while striking out four. The three runs were unearned, though Feller himself was responsible for the throwing error that allowed Greenberg to score. Considering he had not started a game in over two months, the results were more than positive. Nevertheless, Cleveland lost 3–2.
After the game O’Neill told reporters, “I thought the kid had done enough work for a beginning and I didn’t want him to press too hard to make up for what happened in that fourth inning.” Feller announced his arm had come through just fine. He now believed he could take his regular turn in the rotation. Good news all around.
The next day Cleveland traveled to St. Louis for a doubleheader. As usual, the lowly Browns were completely out of the running, already twenty games below the break-even mark. Either buoyed by Feller’s return or frustrated by their own .500 record, the Indians pummeled St. Louis, 14–4 in the first game and even worse in the nightcap, 15–4. Slugger Hal Trosky was the hero of game one, detonating
