The date in London baseball history when the most amazing assortment of Hall of Famers, clowns, drunks and smart skippers gathered in one lineup can be confirmed.
It was May 9, 1921, when skipper George (Mooney) Gibson -- a Londoner himself -- steered his Pittsburgh Pirates to Tecumseh Park. The Pirates won the exhibition game 8-7 over the minor league champion London Tecumsehs, but the score was definitely secondary.
The Pirate lineup that day included Gibson, in his second season during stint No. 1 as Pirate manager, first baseman and clown Charlie Grimm and shortstop and full-time madman Rabbit Maranville.
All three sport excellent baseball credentials. Gibson was a hero of the Pirates' 1909 World Series triumph. Grimm would manage the Chicago Cubs to pennants in 1932, 1935 and 1945. A great glove over a 23-year career and a crazed Cub manager briefly in 1925, the rascally Rabbit is a Hall of Famer enshrined at Cooperstown.
It was Canadian Hall of Famer Gibson who was also a Cubs' skipper in the weird year they let Maranville manage.
In 1921, Grimm and Maranville were almost as well-known for their impromptu comedy routines as for their outstanding defensive skills. Maranville was an all-night drinker prone to funny-sounding bouts of getting punched out and Grimm could carouse all night without imbibing.
That amazing day, Maranville treated the London fans to one of his trademarks -- a faux faint. Possibly in on the gag, an umpire "accidentally" hit Rabbit behind the ear while the shortstop was tossing the ball to the pitcher.
"It looked real -- just like $150,000 worth of ball player knocked out -- but he recovered before the water pail arrived," the London Advertiser reported.
Maranville surpassed his fake faints and other tricks on the diamond with Jackass-worthy stunts -- munching goldfish in hotel lobbies, etc. -- off the field.
The Advertiser and The Free Press praised Grimm's comic exploits. Both papers compared Grimm to pitcher Nick Altrock, a famous baseball clown of the day.
"His comedy, mostly pantomime, can be favourably likened unto that of the notorious Nick Altrock, the funniest man in baseball," The Free Press said. "Many of the fans attending forgot that they were attending a ballgame, so good and clean were his amusing stunts."
The Advertiser said Grimm "(used) a lot of Altrock's stuff." He was able to put it across well -- "all the way from toe dancing to a Fairfax drunk." (I'm not sure what "Fairfax drunk" means, but apparently it was a hoot in 1921.)
It is a measure of the era's innocence that this behaviour met with such approval from the front office and the fans. Pittsburgh management later shipped Grimm and Maranville to the Cubs, but that was only after wearying of their off-field effervescence.
As part of the Pirates' visit to London, there was a pre-game party at the old Tecumseh House hosted by the Rotary Club. After the game, then-mayor Edgar Sydney (Sid) Little risked his Wellington-and-Victoria neighbourhood by inviting the Pirates over for another bash.
Gibson was an upright citizen. No problem there. Another future Hall of Famer, outfielder Max Carey, was in the Pirate lineup. No problem with him, either.
Asking over Maranville, Grimm and a few of their fellow mirth-makers might have spelled trouble with a big T.
At some point in the proceedings, Pirate pitcher Moses J. (Chief) Yellowhorse, the pride of Pawnee, Okla., made a touching speech. "You make me feel so welcome that the outcome of the game is merely an afterthought," The Free Press quotes the Chief as saying. Afterthought? This was an oddly eloquent word from still another boozing Pirate.
A drinking buddy of Maranville's, Yellowhorse gave up six hits and walked two in three innings, allowing the Tecumsehs to make the game close. Yellowhorse finally ended the game, striking out a London batter with "one of the fastest shoots ever seen here."
More seriously, Gibson had a treat of his own for his hometown. He had retired as a catcher before becoming a manager and had not been expected to play that day. But as a thank you to the almost 5,000 fans jamming what is now Labatt Park, he did team with a fellow hero of the Pirates' 1909 World Series champions, pitcher Babe Adams.
There were also heartfelt honours for Gibson. The London Kiwanis Club presented him with a silver loving cup.
It is hard to believe Maranville, Yellowhorse and other partying Pirates were not in cups of their own, away from the manager's watchful eye. The sober-sided Free Press and Advertiser are silent on the subject.
But, with this crew, absence of evidence hardly constitutes evidence of abstinence.