star. Though many of the guys dated beautiful women, Broadway Lyn had outdone them all. He would lead the Major Leagues until Joe DiMaggio wed the spectacular Marilyn Monroe more than twenty years later.
Certainly 1931 was a great year for Lary, yet an incident on the ballfield would mark him for the rest of his time in New York. In late April the Yankees were in Washington to play the Senators. In the top of the first inning, Lary reached base with a clean single. There were two out when first baseman Lou Gehrig smashed a tremendous drive to deep center field, heading straight for the bleachers. Lary sped past second while the ball cleared the center-field wall, hit the concrete, then bounced back onto the field. He raced to third and rounded the bag, looking back to see the Washington outfielder holding the ball in his glove. Despite the Senators standing at their positions without moving, Lary wrongly assumed the ball had been caught and headed for the Yankees bench without touching home plate. The Yankee dugout, watching the flight of Gehrig’s monstrous home run, failed to notice Lary had stopped before crossing home. The Iron Horse rounded third and touched home, only to be called out by the umpire for passing Lary on the baseline. The ruling gave Lou a triple, but no runs were credited to New York thanks to Lary’s remarkable lapse. Of course the Senators won the game by two runs.
Dan Daniel, the fine New York sportswriter, later mused that Lary had some issues in his head. He wrote, “Lary had a blind spot in his mentality. Sometimes under pressure he’d hold the ball too long and suddenly haul off with a wild heave.”
The Yankee shortstop could not offer a valid reason for pulling up halfway down the baseline and jogging to the dugout. Later he did say he thought the ball had been caught, but it was still difficult to understand his not touching home plate just to be sure. If he had turned around, he might have noticed Gehrig still running about thirty feet behind him. The most amazing thing about the incident came to light at season’s end. Gehrig and Ruth tied for the lead in round trippers with forty-six. If Lyn had continued home that day in Washington, Gehrig would have won the crown outright with forty-seven.
In 1934 the Yankees were no longer thrilled with their shortstop, and sent Lary to the Boston Red Sox. Over the next few years he had stops in Washington and St. Louis before arriving in Cleveland for the 1937 season. Manager O’Neill soon learned that his new ballplayer still had a strong hankering for the nightlife. Lary did not drink excessively or get into trouble, but saw no reason not to stay out late at the clubs and socialize until the dawn. This behavior lasted all through his time with the Indians. In spite of the late hours, Lary continued to lead Cleveland in hitting for a good portion of the season. He seemed to be undergoing a rejuvenation with the Indians.
As the season entered June, Cleveland had a record of 19–14, actually not a bad total when your number one and number two pitchers are out of the lineup. Johnny Allen made a slow recovery from the appendicitis attack, pitching only two innings of relief on May 11. He waited nine more days before starting against Chicago. He had tremendous support from his teammates, who bashed twenty-one hits and scored sixteen runs, but Allen retired in the third inning, too fatigued to go any further.
At the end of May Allen regained his old form, pitching a complete-game victory at home against Chicago. Also in his old form was a classic temper tantrum directed at home plate umpire Johnny Quinn. Throughout the game Allen was haphazardly tossing the rosin bag all around the pitching mound. Quinn spoke to him about it, then walked to the mound for a confrontation. Allen waited a moment, stared at the ump, and fired the ball right into Quinn’s chest protector. The baseball caromed all the way to the first base dugout. Maybe Quinn was too startled, but, to the shock of everyone at League Park, he did not toss the demented pitcher from the game.
Once again Allen enjoyed outstanding support in the 15–3 win over the White Sox. Hal Trosky homered, Earl Averill hit a three-run shot, and newcomer Moose Solters slammed a bases-loaded home run far over the right-center-field wall. The game was a coming-out party for Solters, who had four hits in five trips and five RBIs to lead the offense. The Cleveland front office let out a sigh of relief over Solters’s huge performance. Alva Bradley and Cy Slapnicka had taken some intense heat from the fans for swapping hometown hero Joe Vosmik for Solters. They expected some big hitting from Moose to justify trading their All-Star left fielder. It would take more than one big day at the plate to silence the critics, but the grand slam gave them a boost in the right direction.
Moose Solters was born in Pittsburgh on March 22, 1908. His family came from Hungary and settled in Pennsylvania, where his father found work in the coal mines. As a young boy, Moose spent a great deal of time shagging batting practice fly balls for the Pittsburgh Pirates. When old enough, he joined his father and two brothers laboring in the dangerous mines. Education was not in the picture, though Solters did attend Fifth Avenue High School for a year, where he was able to play football as a hard-running halfback.
Out of school while still of high school age, he played Sunday baseball for the Colonial Mine #4 club in the Frick River League. Moose was a big boy now, nearly six feet tall and weighing over two hundred pounds. He had black hair and brown eyes to go with a big grin whenever he spotted a friendly face. Not the stereotypical “Moose,” he was able to run quite well while showing lots of agility in the outfield. He was once timed at 3.6 seconds running from home plate to first.
In a short while, Moose became one of the top players in the Frick League, swatting tremendous home runs wherever he played. In the spring of 1927, a telegram arrived at the Solters home, addressed to J. Solters of the Colonial Mine team, offering a tryout with Fairmont, West Virginia, of the Mid-Atlantic League. Moose thought about it, then urged his older brother Frank, a fair ballplayer himself, to report instead. As a loyal brother and dedicated to his family, Solters wanted Frank to get a shot at the minor leagues. Moose believed his own time would come soon, so why not let his brother get an opportunity first?
Frank reported to Fairmont and homered his first time up. He then fanned three straight times, and the manager became suspicious. This did not look like the scourge of the Frick River League, and Frank reluctantly admitted the same. He soon packed his bags and went home to Pittsburgh, thanking his younger brother for the chance. Moose, satisfied his brother had gotten the tryout, quickly traveled to Fairmont for his professional debut. The early results were far from overwhelming. Solters had an awkward batting stance, sometimes swinging while he was off-balance. His first season he hit only .271, not quite terrorizing the pitchers of the Mid-Atlantic. He remained at Fairmont for the next two seasons, slowly raising his average to a respectable .294. In the fall and winter months Moose did some hard labor, driving and unloading a delivery truck and working odd jobs in a grocery store and bakery.
For the next three seasons he became a baseball nomad, playing for Shreveport in the Texas League, then Albany and Binghamton in the New York–Pennsylvania League, and finally the Baltimore Orioles of the International League. Moose played there for a meager salary of $150 a month. The team had low expectations of their new outfielder, starting him off as an occasional bench player. An injury got him into the regular lineup and Moose went on a tear, boosting his average to a splendid .363. He also managed to score 123 runs, catching the interest of the Boston Red Sox.
Moose eagerly signed a contract to play for Boston in the 1934 season. After a good showing in spring training, he appeared in the opening day lineup, playing right field and batting sixth. He remained a starter, delivering timely base hits and driving in his share of runs. On May 23, the Red Sox faced the Indians, with Mel Harder doing the pitching. The Cleveland ace threw one of his sharp-breaking curveballs, which bore in on Moose and struck him in the hand. Umpire Charley Donnelly claimed the ball hit the bat, not allowing Solters a free trip to first. Within moments the hand began to swell, forcing Moose out of the game. Later he went for an X-ray, which revealed the hand was indeed broken. The injury sidelined him for almost a month.
With the hand not healing well, Moose had difficulty swinging the bat for the remainder of the season. Still, he batted .299 for the year, an acceptable total for a first-year player. He had shown more than enough ability to receive
