A Ball Player's Career. Adrian Constantine Anson
He was far above the average as a player, however, and excelled both as a thrower and a batsman. I have seen him on more than one occasion throw a ball a distance of from 125 to 130 yards, and in a game that was played at Omaha, Neb., he is credited with making the longest hit ever seen there, the old-timers declaring that he knocked the ball out of sight, which must be true, because nobody was ever able to find it.
It was some time after the tournaments at Belle Plaine and Waterloo before I was promoted to the dignity of a first-niner, and then it was due to the solicitation of my father, who declared that I played as good ball as anybody in the team, even if I was "only a kid."
If ever there was a proud youngster I was one at that particular time, and I think I justified the old gentleman's good opinion of me by playing fairly good ball, at least many of my friends were good enough to tell me so.
With my father playing third base, my brother playing center field and myself playing second base the Anson family was pretty well represented on that old Marshalltown nine, and as the team held the State championship for several years the Anson trio must at least have done their share of the playing.
It was while I was away at Notre Dame that misfortune came to Marshalltown. The Des Moines Club challenged for the flag and the home team accepted the defy. The Des Moines organization was then one of the strongest in the State. The game was played at Marshalltown, and to the horror and astonishment of the good people of that town, who had come to look upon their club as invincible, Des Moines won, and when they went back to the State capital they took the emblem of the championship with them.
This emblem I determined the town should have back, and immediately upon my return from the Indiana College I organized a nine and challenged for the trophy. That team was made up as follows:
Kenny Williams, pitcher; Emmett Green, catcher; A. B. Cooper, A. C. Anson and Henry Anson on the bases; Pete Hoskins, shortstop; Sam Sager, Sturgis Anson and Milton Ellis in the outfield; A. J. Cooper, substitute.
We had the best wishes of the town with us when we departed for Des Moines and were accompanied by quite a delegation of the townspeople who were prepared to wager to some extent on our success. The game was played in the presence of a big crowd and when we came back to Marshalltown the flag came with us and there it remained until, with the other trophies that the club had accumulated, it went up in smoke.
The night of our return there was "a hot time in the old town," and had there been any keys to the city I am pretty certain that we would have been presented with them.
The fame of the Forest City Club of Rockford, one of the first professional clubs to be organized in the West, had been blown across the prairies until it reached Marshalltown, so when they came through Iowa on an exhibition tour after the close of their regular season we arranged for a game with them. They had been winning all along the line by scores that mounted up all the way from 30 to 100 to 1, and while we did not expect to beat them, yet we did expect to give them a better run than they had yet had for their money since the close of the professional season.
The announcement of the Rockford Club's visit naturally excited an intense amount of interest all through that section of the country and when the day set for the game arrived the town was crowded with visitors from all parts of the State. Accompanying the Forest Citys was a large delegation of Chicago sporting men, who had come prepared to wager their money that the Marshalltown aggregation would be beaten by a score varying all the way from 8 to 20 to 1, and they found a good many takers among the townspeople who had seen us play and who had a lot of confidence in our ability to hold the visitor's score down to a low figure.
Upon the result of the game A. G. Spalding, who was the pitcher for the Forest Citys, alleges that my father wagered a cow, but this the old gentleman indignantly denies, and he further declares that not a single wager of any sort was made by any member of the team.
Be this as it may, one thing is certain, and that is that the game was witnessed by one of the largest crowds that had ever gathered around a ball ground in Marshalltown, and we felt that we had every reason to feel elated when at the end of the ninth inning the score stood at 18 to 3 in their favor.
So disgusted were the visitors and their followers over the showing that we had made in spite of their best endeavors that they at once proceeded to arrange another game for the next day, cancelling another date ahead in order to do so.
Speaking of this second game my father says: "The rules of the game at that time made the playing of a 'Ryan dead ball' compulsory, and this it was the province of the home club to furnish, and this was the sort of a ball that was played with the first day. To bat such a ball as this to any great distance was impossible and our fielders were placed well in for the second game, just as they had been in the first, but we soon discovered that the balls were going far beyond us, and on noting their positions when our turn to bat came we found their fielders placed much further out than on the day before. My first impression was that the great flights taken by the ball were due to the tremendous batting, but later on I became convinced that there was something wrong with the ball, and called for time to investigate the matter.
"On questioning our unsophisticated management I discovered that the visitors had generously (?) offered to furnish the ball for the second game, as we had furnished the ball for the first, and had been allowed to do so. We later learned that they had skinned the liveliest kind of a 'Bounding Rock' and re-covered it with a 'Ryan Dead Ball' cover. This enabled them to get ahead at the start, but after we had learned of the deception we held them down so close that they won back but a very small share of the money that they had lost on the game of the day before, though they beat us by a score of 35 to 5.
"Let me say right here, too, that the visitors had their own umpire with them, and he was allowed to umpire the game. He let Al Spalding do about as he pleased, and pitch as many balls as he wished without calling them, and once when I was at the bat and he could not induce me to hit at the wild ones that he was sending in he fired a vicious one straight in my direction, when, becoming irritated in my turn, I dropped the bat and walked out in his direction with a view of administering a little proper punishment to the frisky gentleman. He discovered what was coming, however, and meekly crawled back, piteously begging pardon and declaring it all a mistake. There was one result of the game, however, which was that when the Rockford people were organizing a professional nine they wrote to Marshalltown and tried to secure the whole Anson family, and Adrian, who was still only a boy, was allowed to sign with them, I retaining his older brother at home to aid me in my business."
I am inclined to think that the old gentleman is mistaken in the substitution of a "Bounding Rock" for a "Ryan Dead Ball" in that game, although I do remember that the stitching was different from anything that we had ever seen before, and it may be that we were fooled as he has stated. If so the trick was certainly a clever one.
That same fall Sager and Haskins were engaged by the Rockford team, and I have always thought that it was due to the representations made by them that I was engaged to play with the Forest Citys the following season. I signed with them for a salary of sixty-six dollars a month, which was then considered a fairly good salary for a ball player, and especially one who was only eighteen years old and a green country lad at that.
All that winter Sager and I practiced as best we could in the loft of my father's barn and I worked as hard as I knew how in order to become proficient in the ball-playing art.
Before saying farewell to Marshalltown and its ball players let me relate a most ludicrous incident that took place there some time before my departure. A feeling of most intense rivalry in the base-ball line existed between Des Moines and Clinton, Iowa, and one time when the former had a match on with the latter I received an offer of fifty dollars from the Clinton team to go on there and play with them in a single game.
Now fifty dollars at that time was more money than I had ever had at any one time in my life, and so without consulting any one I determined to accept the offer. I knew that I would be compelled to disguise myself in order to escape recognition either by members of the Des Moines team or by some of the spectators, and this I proceeded to do by dying my hair, staining my skin, etc.
I did not think that my