PEEKING THROUGH THE CORNFIELD: GHOSTS OF BASEBALL’S PAST 2/21 with Jordan Miesse
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Jim Devlin started his career with his hometown Philadelphia Whites of the National Association in 1873 as a first baseman. In that first year, he was worth -.1 WAR for his club. WAR is a very complicated stat that stands for Wins Above Replacement. What it boils down to is that it estimates the number of runs an offensive player contributes at the plate and on the bases and the number of runs that a pitcher or defensive player saves versus a “replacement level player” in the league at the time. For example, the Millville Meteor Mike Trout was worth 10.5 Wins Above Replacement in his 2016 MVP campaign.
Jim Devlin played one more season as a first baseman in the National Association with the Chicago White Stockings. He was, again, pretty middling, being worth .2 WAR to his team. And then, at the age of 26, Devlin abruptly switched roles in the organization and became a starting pitcher for the White Stockings. He went 7 – 16 that year and his WAR on the mound was a -.7. He had actually been somewhat detrimental to his team that year via this stat.
In 1876 the National Association went under and was replaced by the National League. Devlin went to pitch for the Louisville Grays. He had developed a new pitch, the “drop pitch”, which we now call a sinker. That year Devlin started 68 games for his Grays and finished 66 of them, pitching a whopping 622 innings. He led the league in strikeouts with 122 that year, but what is staggering is his 17.7 WAR. For even more perspective on this, Roger Clemens at his peak in 1997 on his way to his fourth of seven Cy Youngs, was worth 11.9 Wins Above Replacement. It should be noted that records from the time that Devlin was pitching are somewhat spotty, but it does not diminish this feat.
Devlin continued to dominate the league the next year, the 1877 season, when he started 61 games and completed every single one of them. He led the league in innings pitched again (559) and was worth 13.2 WAR. For most of his starts, Devlin was flat unhittable. That was to be the last season that Jim Devlin would ever play.
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The Grays had been on a tear to begin the 1877 season and were in a heated pennant race with the Boston Red Stockings, however in mid-August they hit a terrible seven-game losing streak that was characterized by bad pitching and sloppy defense. Eventually they finished second to Boston in the NL that year. They fell seven games short.
There were rumors that certain Grays players had been seen about town wearing fancy clothes and jewelry and eating at expensive restaurants, which was uncharacteristic of baseball players at the time because were not wealthy by any means. By the time post-season exhibition matches were being played, suspicion had arisen around the team that some of the players may have been throwing games.
The Louisville-Courier Journal had a young writer, John Haldeman, who was the son of the Grays team president and occasionally played second base for the team. His investigation led to the first public accusations against the team. The team vice president, Charles Chase, began an investigation. Devlin and slugger George Hall confessed. Shortstop Bill Craver denied a request by the team to investigate him and was presumed guilty. Infielder Al Nichols was found to be guilty during the investigation.
The president of the National League, William Hubert, took a hard line on gambling. As of December 15, 1877, Hubert banned all four men, known as the Louisville Four, from baseball for life. Jim Devlin was devastated. He wrote letters every year, every day according to some accounts, to the office of the president to appeal for reinstatement. His appeal was never granted.
Albert Spalding, before he became a sports equipment magnate, played professional ball. He happened to be in Hubert’s office one day:
“The outer door opened and a sorry-looking specimen entered. It was midwinter and very cold, but the poor fellow had no overcoat. His dust covered garments were threadbare and seedy. His shoes were worn through with much tramping, while the red flesh showing in places indicated that if stockings were present they afforded not much protection … The visitor passed me without a glance in my direction. His eyes were fixed upon the occupant of the farther room. He walked straight to the chair where Mr Hulbert sat, and, dropping to his knees at the big man’s feet, lifted his eyes in prayerful entreaty, while his frame shook with the emotion so long restrained … The man was Devlin, one of the Louisville players. The situation, as he kneeled there in abject humiliation, was beyond the realm of pathos. It was a scene of heartrending tragedy. Devlin was in tears, Hulbert was in tears, and if the mists of a tearful sympathy filled my eyes I have no excuse.”
Jim Devlin died shortly after in 1883 at the age of 34. He had a career 1.90 ERA and is barely remembered in the annals of baseball history.
NOTE: THE SPALDING QUOTE COMES FROM HERE: https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2019/dec/04/the-life-and-death-of-jim-devlin-baseballs-original
Contributed by Jordan Miesse
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