The year was 1910. On April 15, opening day against the Brooklyn Dodgers in the old Polo Grounds, "Red" Ames, the NY Giants' usual opening day pitcher (starting ahead of the legendary original Hall of Fame inductee, Christy Mathewson -- the winningest pitcher in National League history),
performed a feat that to my knowledge has never been duplicated in professional baseball.He lost a no-hitter.
No, he was not the losing pitcher against another team that hurled an almost perfect game. It was not a rain out, the game went the distance and "Red" was credited with earning that rare distinction of hurling no-hit ball for the full nine innings -- and still lost.
The game actually went 13 innings with Red losing 3-0.
It's one of my favorite sports trivia questions. How he did it is almost always a stumper. Asking someone to name the pitcher who lost a no-hitter is just plain unfair. Telling them it was on opening day or the year, or even the team he played for are hints that only narrow the field for real trivia whiz kids.
His real name was Leon Kessling Ames, but his string of strange luck had reporters of the day changing Kessling to "Kalamity." He pitched four games in three World Series and played in the majors 17 years. Bob Costas could have written this review from The Society for American Baseball Research (SABR):
Red Ames' curveball was one of the Deadball Era's most dramatic pitches. "Ames is without question almost the hardest pitcher to catch of the professionals," wrote The Sporting Life in 1906. "Players say no man who holds a place in the pitcher's box is able to curve the ball so far as he can. It is a fact that he doesn't always know himself where his curves are going to land."His tendency to throw the curve like a corkscrew added to his legacy for strange luck. In 1914 he lost a league high 23 games for Cincinnati, but still won 15, pitched a career high 297 innings and was the league leader in saves with six.
Especially tough was getting no run support when he was on the mound. A pitcher with a career Earned Run Average of 2.63 today would be a superstar, unhittable. It's equal to Cy Young's ERA and better than all but 10 hall of Famers. But his winning percentage was barely over .500. Mind you, that's still pretty damn good, averaging more wins per year (and unfortunately more losses) than his friend Mathewson who wrote about his luck:
"Leon Ames stacks up against the toughest luck of any pitcher in the big show," claimed the New York Times on August 13, 1911. The day before, Ames had lost a tough game to Philadelphia, 2-0, at the Polo Grounds, dropping his record to 5-9. In four of those losses, the Giants scored two runs or less. The Times pleaded: "Won't someone please send Mr. Ames the left hind foot of a churchyard rabbit, a few swastika pins and some old rusty horseshoes?" (Before its adoption by the Nazi party, the swastika was considered a good-luck symbol.)After the Giants and the Reds, he ended up becoming the most effective pitcher for the St. Louis Cardinals, starting and also in relief -- leading the league in saves again in 1916 with eight.
According to Mathewson's book, Pitching in a Pinch (ghost-written by John Wheeler), Ames was discouraged on the eve of the Giants' final western road trip. "I don't see any use in taking me along, Mac," he told McGraw. "The club can't win with me pitching if the other guys don't even get a foul." Red went along anyway, and in his mail on September 11 he received a necktie and four-leaf clover sent by an unnamed "prominent actress." Ames was to wear the tie with his street clothes and conceal it within his uniform during games. The necktie "would have done for a headlight," noted Mathewson, "and made Joseph's coat of many colors look like a mourning garment." Still, Ames followed instructions and won easily on a chilly September 13. That night at dinner he pointed to the tie and declared, "I don't change her until I lose."
The Giants posted a sparkling 18-4 record on that road trip, all but ensuring the pennant, with Ames contributing four victories in five starts (the Giants won the fifth start, in St. Louis, in the 10th inning). "And all of the time," wrote Mathewson, "he wore that spectrum around his collar for a necktie. As it frayed with the wear and tear, more colors began to show, although I didn't think it possible. If he had had occasion to put on his evening clothes, I believe that tie would have gone with it." (from the Baseball Biography Project)
Red died decades before I was born, but I knew his wife, Rena. I knew his son, Leon Jr., even better. Also nicknamed "Red," his son gave up a pharmacology scholarship at Ohio State to play minor league ball, showing promise to equal or even eclipse his dad before he threw out his arm in the days before Tommy Johns surgery.
Leon Jr., ended up working for Republic Steel and retired just before the Mahoning Valley steel industry collapsed in the late seventies. He spent most of his leisure time watching baseball on TV or listening to it on the radio. Sometimes he would take me, his grandson, to Pittsburgh to catch Roberto Clemente and Willie Stargell.
He tried to teach me to throw the curve and the high heater, but I just didn't have the knack. He told me to stay in school and I did. Growing up he was the most important man in my life and he gave me the best advice, always. He never would confirm that the mysterious "prominent actress" that gave my Great Grandfather the hideous tie was Sophie Tucker.
So on this opening day of the game you taught me to love, I'm thinking of you Gramps.