In public, business leaders love the choices offered by a free market. Behind the scenes, though, they prefer that the choices are theirs—especially when dealing with employees. That’s how Frank “Home Run” Baker spent a season playing for a semi-pro team in Delaware County in 1915. It was about money.
The Philadelphia Athletics player was one of the biggest stars in baseball. Starting in 1911, he’d led the American League in home runs for four seasons. In that year’s World Series, Baker earned his nickname with game-winning runs in the second and third matches. For his services, he earned maybe $5,000 a year while similarly valuable players earned $12,000. (By comparison, factory workers got about $500 annually back then.)
Born on a farm in Trappe, Maryland, Baker grew up playing baseball—and in that rural area, everyone was a fan. A Saturday game against the team from a neighboring town was the biggest event of the week. At age 19, Baker was clerking in a local store and playing on weekends for his high school team, even though he’d dropped out.
In 1905, Charles Herzog, who managed a semi-pro team in nearby Ridgley, saw Baker play and signed him for $5 a week. “Baker couldn’t pitch, and he couldn’t play outfield,” Herzog later recalled. “But he could everlastingly hit.”
Ridgley’s 1905 team was full of talent. The entire infield eventually went on to the major leagues. After that season, Baker went off to play for a team in Cambridge, Maryland. In 1909, he was spotted by an agent for the Baltimore Orioles, which gave him a five-game tryout. The manager let him go, saying Baker was clumsy, awkward and couldn’t hit. But he seemed to have impressed sports writers, one remarking that he had “the makings of a good player.”
Baker’s big break came in 1908, when Herzog recommended him for the Reading team. Now 22, Baker showed his seriousness by moving to Pennsylvania. He created an early buzz in an exhibition game by leaping to grab a line drive that looked like a sure single. In a subsequent game against Wilkes-Barre, Baker hit one of the longest home runs ever seen in Reading. Scouts were soon coming to check him out. “All in all, he has the qualifications to go toward making him a successful major leaguer,” observed the Reading Eagle.
In August, Athletics manager Connie Mack purchased Baker’s contract for $500 and told him to show up in Chicago, where the Athletics were playing the White Sox. Baker won his last game for Reading with a home run. After the fans carried him off the field, he boarded a train for Chicago, where he found Mack in the hotel dining room. “Well, here I am,” Baker said.
As a manager, Mack’s strength was finding the best players, teaching them well and letting them play. He valued “baseball smarts” and preferred educated players. He traded away outfielder “Shoeless Joe” Jackson because of his perceived unintelligent play and bad attitude. “The college boy is educated, mannerly, tractable, teachable,” he once told a reporter. “It’s not what he knows, but what he can be taught that makes him valuable.”
Baker wasn’t a college boy, but he had the good manners of the farm boy he was—and his talent was undeniable. In this case, Mack was willing to put aside his standard preferences.
Baker showed up for his tryout at the end of the 1908 season, when every game was critical. Mack threw him straight into the mix. The Athletics didn’t win the pennant, but Baker impressed everyone with his hitting, including a double that almost went over the fence in Boston. Mack kept him on.
It was a wise move. Baker’s rookie-year performance was a major factor in the team’s subsequent surge. In 1909, the Athletics won 27 more games than they had the previous year, finishing second.
Unlike many players, Baker didn’t blow his money on women and booze. Instead, he bought his father’s farm, retreating there in the off-season. He’d often talk about quitting baseball. More than once, newspapers published stories about his retirement. After a while, nobody took this talk seriously. Even Mack didn’t argue over a contract that allowed Baker to quit baseball at any time—though he couldn’t play for another team.
Baseball historians attribute rising salaries after 1912 to the new Federal League, which emerged that year to challenge the established leagu es by luring away top players with more money. By 1913, the Federal League had six teams in the field. Mack recognized the danger and pushed the easygoing Baker to sign a three-year contract in 1914.
By the time Baker became aware of what others were making, he was stuck—and Mack refused to renegotiate. In a bind, Baker announced that he was going back to the farm. On his way out the door, he received Mack’s permission to play “local” baseball. The manager likely envisioned Baker spending off hours on some Maryland team. He surely didn’t expect that he’d play weekends and holidays with Upland.
The team’s millionaire industrialist backer, John P. Crozer, saw Baker’s availability as a way to build attendance. Baker would receive nearly the same pay he received from the Athletics. In Mack’s eyes, though, Baker’s suburban performances could only hurt the Athletics. “Baker can’t make a fool out of me,” he said. “If he thinks he can have a little jaunt in the Delaware County League and expect to find a place on my team, he has made the mistake of his life.”
Baker debuted in May 1915 before the largest crowd ever seen in Upland, helping defeat Clifton Heights 5-1. The Athletics, meanwhile, were in seventh place—and Mack’s fellow managers took his side. One called Baker “the biggest ingrate in baseball.”
Mack complained that the Federal League’s astronomical offers caused his players to “think only of money.” Faced with a downward trend, he sold his top players and rebuilt with newcomers. Meanwhile, Delco loved Baker. On “Home Run Baker Day” in July, he collected two hits, scored a run and received a Guernsey calf for his farm as a gift from fans.
In August 1915, the Federal League began negotiating with top players, including Baker, saying money was no object. Mack refused to release him from his contract, and the Athletics ended their season with a dismal 43-109 record. Baker, meanwhile, bought his third farm and a car with his earnings.
The squabble continued through the winter, with Baker growing increasingly frustrated by stories of what other teams were willing to pay for the contract that Mack refused to sell. Finally, in February 1916, Mack sold Baker to the New York Yankees for $37,500. He got a three-year contract for $12,000 a year.
The Athletics didn’t field an other team with an above-.500 record until 1925. But Mack had kept Baker out of the majors for a year in his prime—so he figured he’d won.
Taken from the archives of Mark E. Dixon’s Retrospect column, a fixture in Main Line Today for 16 years.
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