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Itwas almost unthinkable: playersthrowingthe World Series?  Yet, that's what happened--or maybe didn'thappen--in the fall of 1919.

The players on theCharlesComiskey's 1919 Chicago White Sox team were a fractious lot. The club was divided into two "gangs" of players, each with practicallynothing to say to the other. Together they formed the best team inbaseball--perhaps one of the bestteams that ever played the game, yet they--like all ball players of thetime--were paid a fraction ofwhatthey were worth.  Because of baseball's reserveclause, anyplayer who refused to accept a contract was prohibited from playingbaseballon any other professional team.  The White Soxowner paid two of his greatest stars, outfielder"Shoeless"Joe Jackson and third basemanBuckWeaver, only $6000 a year.  Comiskey's decision to saveexpenses by reducing the number of times uniforms were laundered gaverise to the original meaning of "The Black Sox."  Comiskey hasbeen labeled thetyrant and tightwad whose penurious practices made his playersespecially willing to sell their baseball souls for money, but in facthe was probably no worse than most owners--in fact, Chicago hadthe highest team payroll in 1919.  In the era ofthe reserve clause, gamblers could find players on lots of teamslooking for extra cash--and they did.

In 1963, Eliot Asinof publishedEightMen Out, a book about the Black Sox scandal which later became apopular movie and has, more than any other work, shaped modernunderstandingof the most famous scandal in the history of sports.  In Asinof'stelling of history, the bitterness Sox players felt about theirowner led members ofthe team to enter into a conspiracy that would forever change the gameof baseball.  Asinof suggested that Comisky's skinflint maneuversmade key players ready to jump at the chance to make some quickmoney.  For example, Asinof wrote that Sox pitcherEddieCicotte was intensely irritated when, in September of1917,as Cicotte approached a 30-win season that would win him a promised$10,000bonus, Comiskey had his star pitcher benched rather than be forced tocomeup with the extra cash.  Whether the story about the denied bonusor true is subject of dispute among baseball historians.

More recently, several writers havequestioned Asinof's explanation for the fix.  Gene Carney, forexample, authorofBurying the Black Sox,concluded that "the Sox who took the bribes were not getting even, theywere just trying to get some easy money."  Whatever the reason, along and complicated story unfolded in the fall of 1919.  One ofthe key players in the scandal, gambler Abe Attell, later summarizedthe fix as "cheaters cheating cheaters."

It's a story that arises at a timewhen "the lines between gamblers and ballplayers had becomeblurred."  Some players were big bettors and some gamblers wereformer big league players.  Most teams, many historians believe,had at least one player on the roster willing to help tip a game for alittle money.  Baseball in 1919, according to Carney, "was in thestranglehold of gamblers, and had been for some time."

Asinof contends that the ideaoffixing the Series sprang into the mind of a tough thirty-one-year-oldSoxfirst baseman namedChickGandil.  Whether or not the initial idea was his, or that of agambler, it is clear no player is more closely connected to the fixthan Gandil.  In a 1956 Sports Illustrated interview, Gandilfrankly admitted, "I was a ringleader."  Asinof placed thebeginning of the fix in Boston,aboutthree weeks before the end of the 1919 season.  Gandil asked anacquaintanceand professional gambler named "Sport" Sullivan to stop by his hotelroom. After a few minutes of small talk, Gandil told Sullivan, "I think wecanput it [the Series] in the bag."  He demanded $80,000 in cash forhimself and whatever other players he might recruit. (In 1956, Gandiloffered his own--somewhat different--account, crediting Sullivan andnothimself for the idea.  Gandil claims he initially told Sullivan afix involving seven or eight players was impossible. Sullivan replied,"Don't be silly.  It's been pulled before and it can beagain.") 

Talk of a possible fix began amonga group that included outfielderOscar"Happy" Felsch, third baseman Buck Weaver, and Eddie Cicotte. Gandil knew that Cicotte, Chicago's acepitcher, Cicotte, had money troubles,havingbought a farm in Michigan that came with high mortgage payments. Cicotte at first resisted Gandil's suggestion that he join in a fix ofthe Series, but eventually his scruples gave way.  Three daysbefore the Series began, he told Gandil,"I'll do it for $10,000--before the Series begins." In 1920, Cicotte explained his decision to join the fix to a grandjury:  "They wanted me to go crooked.  I needed themoney.  I had the wife and kids.  I had bought thefarm."  According to Cicotte's later confession, when he went backto his roomlater, "I found the money under my pillow; I had sold out 'Commy' andthe other boys."

With Cicotte and Felsch on board,Gandil'seffortsto recruit additional Sox playerstook off.  Shortstop"Swede"Risberg and utility infielderFredMcMullin said that they were in.  Starting pitchers would becriticalin any successful fix, so when the team was in New York, Gandil wentafter--and soon convinced--Claude"Lefty" Williams to join.  To round out the fix, Gandilapproached the teams best hitter, Joe Jackson.  (In his 1920"confession," Jackson would testify that he was promised $20,000 forhis participation, but only got a quarter of that amount.)

A meeting of White Soxballplayers--including those committed to going ahead and those justready to listen--took place on September 21, at Gandil's room at theAnsoniaHotelin New York.  It was a meeting that would eventually shatter thecareersof eight ballplayers, although whether all eight were actually inattendance is a matter of dispute. (Joe Jackson claimed not to havemade the meeting--and Jackson's claim was repeatedly supported by LeftyWilliams.)  In his 1956 article inSports Illustrated,Gandil offers this account ofthe September 21 meeting:

They all were interestedandthought we should reconnoiterto see if the dough would really be put on the line.  Weaversuggestedwe get paid in advance; then if things got too hot, we coulddouble-crossthe gambler, keep the cash and take the big end of the Series bybeatingthe [Cincinnati] Reds.  We agreed this was a hell of a brainy plan.

Things started to getcomplicated.  According to Asinof, another gambler, "Sleepy"Bill Burns (working with an associateBillyMaharg), having heard talk of a possible fix, approached Cicotteandoffered to top any offer Sullivan might make.  Gandil, meetingwithCicotte and Burns, announced that they would work a fix with Burns andMaharg foran upfront $100,000.  In a 1922 deposition, Maharg would confirmthis story, testifying that in the original $100,000 deal, $20,000 eachwas to go to Gandil, Cicotte, Williams, Felsch, and Risberg--anoriginal group of "five men out."  Burns and Maharg set off forNew York to meet with the most prominentgambler-sportsmanin America,Arnold"Big Bankroll" Rothstein.

In Asinof's account, Burns andMahargapproached Rothstein as he watchedhorses at Jamaica Race Track.  Rothstein told the two men that hewas busy, and that they should wait in the track restaurant, where hemightget to them later.  Instead, Rothstein dispatched his right-handman,Abe Attell, to meet with Burns and Maharg and find out what they had inmind.  When Attell reported back that night about the plan to fixthe Series, Rothstein was skeptical.  He didn't think it couldwork. Attell relayed the news to a disappointed Burns. Undeterred, Burns andMaharg cornered Rothstein later that night in the lobby of the AstorHotelin Times Square and pressed their plan to fix the Series. Rothsteintold the two men, for "whatever my opinion is worth,"  to forgetit,and Burns and Maharg did--for awhile.

Asinof's very detailed story of themeeting with Rothstein is not confirmed by other sources and "A. R.'s"role in the fix remains something of a mystery.  Leo Katcher,author ofThe Big Bankroll,concluded that Rothstein declined the offer to participate in fixingthe Series, deeming the enterprise too risky--too many players and toomany people watching. Katcher's conclusion seems to have been shared byAmerican League President Ban Johnson who initially believed the fix'strail led to Rothstein, but later--after Rothstein testified to a 1920grand jury--deemed him innocent.  On the other hand, historianHarold Seymour contended that affidavits found in Rothstein's filesafter his death showed "he paid out $80,000 for the World Seriesfix."  Regardless of whether or not he funded the fix, manygamblers and players at the time believed that he was behind it. A telegram, supposedly from Rothstein but actually fraudulentlyprepared by lower-level gamblers, seemed to show A. R. backed thefix.  With Rothstein's influence and nearly unlimited financialresources, players more willingly jumped on board--the gambler'slawyers and connections seemed to ensure no one would bepunished.  Rothstein may or may not have been a backer of the fix,but he clearly knew about it and made a substantial amount of money(estimates range up to $400,000) betting on Series games.

In Asinof's telling, AbeAttell, or the "Little Champ" as ex-prize fighter was called, sawanopportunity to make some big bucks, and he decided to take it. Attelland former ballplayer Hal Chase contacted Burns and told him thatRothstein hadreconsideredtheir proposition and had now agreed to put up the $100,000 to fund thefix.  Burns whirled into motion, calling Cicotte and wiring Mahargto tell them the fix was on. Sport Sullivan, meanwhile,continuedindependently to pursue his ownfix plans.  He also contacted Rothstein.  Sullivan, unlikeBurnsand Maharg, was known and respected by Rothstein.  When Sullivanlaidout his plans for the fix, according to Asinof, Rothstein expressed aninterest in theschemehe had previously withheld.  Rothstein saw the widespread talk ofa fix as a blessing, not a problem: "If nine guys go to bed with agirl,she'll have a tough time proving the tenth is the father!"  Hedecidedto sent a partner of his, Nat Evans, to Chicago with Sullivan to meetwiththe players.

In Asinof's account, on September29, the day before theSoxwere to leave for Cincinnatito begin the Series, Sullivan and Evans (introduced as "Brown") metwiththe players.  Evans listened to the players' demand for $80,000 inadvance, then told them he would talk to his "associates" and get backto them.  When Evans reported back, Rothstein agreed to give him$40,000to pass on to Sullivan, who would presumably distribute the cash to theplayers.  The other $40,000, Rothstein said, would be held in asafein Chicago, to be paid to the players if the Series went asplanned.  Rothstein then got busy, quickly laying bets on the Redstowin the Series. With forty $1,000 bills in hispocket,Sullivan decided to bet nearly$30,000 on the Reds instead of giving it to the players asplanned. They could get the money later, he thought. 

Odds were droppingquicklyon the once heavy underdog Reds team--the best Sullivan could do wasgeteven money.  Gandil, in his 1956 account of the story, saidSullivan passed the remaining $10,000 to him, and that he put themoney under the pillow of the starting pitcher for game one of theSeries, Eddie Cicotte. (Other sources have the $10,000 being delivered after the Seriesstarted.) Cicotte reportedly later sewed the money into the lining ofhis jacket. 

Frustrated and angry at gettingonly$10,000 from Sullivan, seven ofthe players (only Joe Jackson was absent) met on the day before theSeriesopener at the Sinton Hotel in Cincinnati with Abe Attell.  Attellrefused to pay the players any cash in advance, offering instead$20,000for each loss in the best-of-nine Series.  The players complained,but told the gamblers that they would throw the first two games withCicotte and Williams asthescheduled starting pitchers.

At least two syndicates and half adozen gamblers have been linked to the fix, but both numbers areprobably underestimates.  There may have been five or sixsyndicates and perhaps twenty or more gamblers involved.  Somesources have the players selling out in St. Louis, Detroit, Boston, andKansas City, as well as Chicago.  Abe Attell told sports reporterJoe Williams of theCleveland News,"They not only sold it, but they sold it wherever they could get abuck...They peddled it around like a sack of popcorn."  The trueextent of the 1919 Series fix will probably never be known.

October 1, 1919, Opening Day, wassunnyand warm.  The game wasa sell-out, with scalpers getting the unheard of price of $50 aticket. At the Ansonia Hotel in New York, Arnold Rothstein strode into thelobbyjust before the scheduled opening pitch.  For Rothstein and theseveralhundred other persons gathered in the lobby, a reporter would readtelegraphedplay-by-play accounts of the game as baseball figures would be movedarounda large diamond-shaped chart on the wall.  The gamblers had sentwordthat Eddie Cicotte was to either walk or hit the first Reds batter, asasign that the fix was on.  The first pitch to lead-off batterMauriceRath was a called strike.  Cicotte's wild second pitch hit Rath intheback.  Arnold Rothstein walked out of the Ansonia into a New Yorkrain.

The game stood 1 to 1 with one outin thefourth when the Red's PatDuncan lined a hanging curve to right for a single.  The nextbatter,Larry Kopf, hit an easy double play ball to Cicotte, but the Soxpitcherhesitated, then threw high to second.  The runner at second wasout,but no double play was possible.  Greasy Neale and Ivy Wingofollowedwith singles, scoring the Reds' second run.  Then the Reds'pitcher,Dutch Reuther, drove a triple to left, scoring two more.  Thebottomof the Cincinnati order was teeing off on the Sox's ace.  The gameended with the Reds winning 9 to 1 [gamestats link].  Meeting later that night with Charles Comiskey,Sox manager Kid Gleason was asked whether he thought his team wasthrowingthe Series.  Gleason hesitated, then said he thought something waswrong, but didn't know for certain.

The fourth inning turned out to bedeterminative in Game Two as well. Lefty Williams, renown for his control, walked three Cincinnatibatters,all of whom scored.  Final: Cincinnati 4, Chicago 2.  SoxcatcherRay Schalk, furious, complained to Gleason after the came: "Thesonofabitch!Williams kept crossing me.  In that lousy fourth inning, hecrossedme three times!  He wouldn't throw a curve."  After the game,Sleepy Burns left $10,000 (of the $20,000 that they were promised) inGandil's room.

In Asinof's account, before GameThree in Chicago, BurnsaskedGandil what the players wereplanning.  Gandil lied.  He told Burns they were going tothrowthe game, when in fact they hadn't yet decided what to do.  Gandiland the rest of players in on the fix were angry at so far receivingonlya fraction of their promised money.  He saw no reason to do Burnsany favors.  Burns and Maharg, on Gandil's word, bet a bundle ontheReds to win Game Three.  The Sox won the game, 3 to 0, with Gandildriving in two of his team's runs.

Gandil told Sullivan that he needed$20,000 before Game Four, or thefix was over.  Sullivan made the deadline--barely.  Jacksonand Williams each received $5,000 pay-offs after the game, which waswon by the Reds, whobroke a scoreless tie in the fifth when pitcher Eddie Cicotte made twofielding errors.  According to Williams's 1920 confession, afterGame Four, the pitcher went to Gandil's room:  "There were twopackages, two envelopes lying there, and he says, 'There is yourdough."  Williams testified, "Gandil told me, 'There is five foryourself, and five for Jackson, and the rest has been called for.'"

In the sixth inning of Game Five,"Happy" Felschmisplayed a fly ball, thenthrew poorly to Risberg at second, who allowed the ball to get awayfromhim.  Before the inning was over, Felsch would misplay a secondballhit by Edd Roush, allowing three runs to score.  ChicagosportswriterHugh Fullerton, watching from the press box commented on the disaster:"When Felsch misses a fly ball like Roush's--and the one before fromEller--then,well, what's the use?"

When gamblers failed to produce thepromised additional $20,000 afterthe loss in game five, the Sox players decided they'd had enough. It would be the old Sox again--the Sox that won the American Leaguepennantgoing away.  They took Game Six  5 to 4, then won again inGameSeven, 4 to 1.  With a win in game eight, the best-of-nine Serieswould be tied.

Asinof'sEight Men Out includes a dramatic,but entirely fictional, report of what happened before the GameEight.  Asinof admitted in 2003 that the story was made up--inpart,he claimed, to identify when his account was being used without hispermission.  In his book, Asinof claimed that Rothstein toldSullivan in nouncertainterms that he did not want theSeries to go to nine games--and to make sure it doesn't.  In thebook's account,Sullivan contacted a Chicago thug known as "Harry F" who then paid avisit to the starting Sox pitcher in game eight, LeftyWilliams, and threatened harm to him or his family if the game were notthrown--in the firstinning.  Asinof described Williams being greeted by acigar-smokingman in a bowler hat when he and his wife were returning home fromdinner. The man asked to have a word with Williams in private.  Hedid--and Williams got the message.  There was no "Harry F." But it made for a good story and added drama to the 1988 movie versionof Asinof's book. Threats were, however, made. Both Cicotte and Jackson later described threats and their own fear ofbeing shot and, although Lefty Williams never told of any threatsagainst him or Lyria, his wife, Lyria did.  In a 1920 interview,Maharg also hinted that a threat to kill Williams's wife might indeedhave been made before Game Eight.

Threat or no threat, Williamspitched poorly in Game Eight.  He threw only fifteen pitches,allowing four hits and three runs, before beingtakenout of the game with only one out.  Cincinnati went on to win thegame and the Series, 10 to 5.  For the Williams (who wasundoubtedly in on the fix), it was his third loss in three Seriesstarts.  The pitcher with a reputation as a control artist hadthrown an average of a walk every other inning he played.

How Many Men "Out"?

Buck Weaver

Of eight Series games, at least twowerethrown, Games Two and Eight.  Notably, however, if the Sox had wonGames Two and Eight, they--and not the Reds--would have been 1919 WorldSeries champs. There is also evidence that Game Four was thrown and afailed attempt was made to throw Game Three.  In general, peoplewho were looking for suspicious plays in theSeries found them, while others saw nothing that looked out ofline.  Reds manager Pat Moran thought the Series was on the up andup: "If they threw some of the games they must be consummateactors,...for nothing in their playing gave me the impression theyweren't doing their best."  Umpire Billy Evans expressed surpriseas well when news of the fix eventually broke; "We'll, I guess I'm justa big dope, " Evans said, "That Series looked all right to me." James Hamilton, official scorer for the Series, said he saw only onesuspicious play, a deflection by Cicotte of a throw to home in GameFour.  On the other hand, writer Hugh Fullerton and formerpitching star Christy Mathewson circled seven plays in their scorebookthat they agreed looked suspicious, in addition to having questionsabout Sox pitching in a few of the games.  (Fullerton had heardbuzz about a fix well before the first pitch of the Series was thrown,and informed Comiskey about a possible fix before Game One.)

Of the"Eight Men Out," four players clearly played to losein the thrown games, Gandil, Williams, Cicotte, and Risberg. Risberg, byall accounts a tough guy, served as internal enforcer of the fix,threatening any player who might reveal the players' agreement with thegamblers.  A few historians have suggested that Cicotte, at leastafter facing the first batter in Game One, gave100%, but his own words seem to belie that conclusion: "I've played acrooked game."  Cicotte pitchedpoorlyin Game One and hit the first batter, apparently to signal the fix wason.  In his 1920 grand jury testimony, Cicotte admitted that hepurposely put that first batter on base, but then had misgivings: "After he passes, after he was on there, I don't know, I guess I triedtoo hard.  I didn't care, they could have taken my heart and soul;that's the way I felt about it after I'd taken that money.  Iguess everybody is not perfect."  In Game Four, Cicotte made acouple of glaring errors on the field.  According to a September28, 1920 account of his grand jury testimony, Cicotte said, "Ideliberately intercepted a throw from the outfield to the plate whichmight have cut off a run.  I muffed the ball on purpose."  Healso admitted that on another play in Game Four, "I purposely made awild throw.  All the runs scored against me were due to my owndeliberate errors."  Happy should probably also be added to the"players out"list, as he went just sixfor twenty-sixduring the Series and committed several uncharacteristic miscues in thecenterfield.  (On the other hand, he hit the ball hard and made acouple of spectacular catches.  In an interview in theChicago Evening American, Felschadmitted he was "in on the deal," but claimed he "had nothing to dowith the loss of the World Series.")  Utility infielder FredMcMullin,Risberg's drinking buddy,got one hit in just two Series at-bats, hardly the basis for aconclusion that he contributed to the Series defeat.  Jackson,however, testified that McMullin, along with Risberg, were the twoprincipal "pay-off" men during the fix.

If--and it's a big "if"--any twoplayers have beenunfairly included in the "Eight Men Out" they are Shoeless Joe Jacksonand Buck Weaver. 

For theSeries, Jackson had batted .375 (nearly twenty points better than hiscareer average of .356), scored five runs, got six RBI's, the onlyhomerun, and not committed a single error.  "If he really did tryto lose games," a 2009 article in the Chicago Lawyer Magazine observed,"he failed miserably."  Nonetheless, questions have been raisedabout Jackson's performance in the field.  (Jackson himself lateradmitted that he "could have tried harder."  He also reportedlysaid that the players in on the fix "did our best to kick [Game Three],but little Dickie Kerr won the game by his pitching.")  Notdebatable is that Jackson clearly did accept themoney of gamblers ($5000, after demanding $20,000, according toCicotte)and having the batting star's name mentioned inconnection with the fix gave the scheme credibility.  Jacksonadmitted in his1920 grand jury testimony to accepting the money.  Most likely,Jackson did not try to throw the Series.  He did, however, commita serious error of judgment in accepting themoney of gamblers and, perhaps, in not more aggressively trying toreport the fix to Comiskey or Gleason.

Perhaps none of theinfamous Eight have more defenders than Buck Weaver.  Weaver knewof the fix, attendedat least three meetings in which the fix was discussed, watched Gandilcount out pay-off money from gamblers, and yet failed toreport the scheme to club officials.  For this "guiltyknowledge," Buck might have got nothing but trouble.  It's notclear he ever received adime from the fix.  (A report circulated, originating withhis mother-in-law, that a package containing a large amount of currencywas delivered tohis house by McMullin during the Series.  The pay-off, it indeedthat's what the package was, may have been returned.) He arguably heplayed thebest baseball he knewhow, batting .324during the Series.  A 1953 letter from Weaver to BaseballCommissioner Ford Frick is on display at the Baseball Hall of Fame inCooperstown.  In the letter, Weaver claimed (implausibly) that he"knew nothing"about the fix and (more plausibly) "played a perfect Series."

In addition to the fix, there was asecond, arguably just as significant, scandal: the cover-up. Asinof noted that "the cover-up was far better organized than the fixitself."  It involved owners, managers, players, and (with just acouple of notable exceptions) the press.  A lot of people had aninterest in preserving the public's faith in America's pasttime.

Charles Comiskey tried todiscourage talkof a fix, brought on by histeam's dismal performance in the Series, by issuing a statement to thepress.  Comiskey told reporters,
"I believe my boys fought thebattleof the recent World Series on the level, as they have alwaysdone. And I would be the first to want information to the contrary--if therebe any.  I would give $20,000 to anyone unearthing information tothat effect."  Meanwhile, Comiskey hired a private detective toinvestigatethe finances of seven of the eight men who were part of the originalconspiracy. (Weaver was the player not under suspicion.)

A bombshell was thrown into thewinterbaseball meetings on December15, 1919, when Hugh Fullerton, a Chicago sportswriter, published in NewYorkWorld a story headlined IS BIG LEAGUE BASEBALL BEING RUNFORGAMBLERS, WITH BALLPLAYERS IN THE DEAL?  Fullerton angrilydemandedthat baseball confront its gambling problem.  He suggested thatKenesawMountain Landis, a federal judge, be appointed to head a specialinvestigationinto gambling's influence on the national pastime.

Talk of a possible fix in the 1919Seriescontinued through the wintermonths into the 1920 season.  In July, Sox manager Kid Gleason raninto Abe Attell at a New York bar.  The Little Champ confirmedGleason'ssuspicions about the fix.  "You know, Kid, I hated to do that toyou,"Attell told Gleason, "but I thought I was going to make a bundle, and Ineeded it."  Attell revealed that Arnold Rothstein was the bigmoneyman behind the fix.  Gleason went to the press with the story, butwas unable to convince anyone--because of fear of libel suits--to printit.

Exposure of the Series fix finallycamefrom an unexpected source--justas the Sox were in a close fight for the 1920 American Leaguepennant. Reports on another fix, this one involving a Cubs-Phillies game onAugust31, led to the convening of the Grand Jury of Cook County. AssistantState Attorney Hartley Replogle sent out dozens of subpoenas tobaseballpersonalities.  One of those called to testify was New York Giantspitcher Rube Benton.  Benton told the grand jury that he saw atelegramsent in late September to a Giants teammate from Sleepy Burns, statingthat the Sox would lose the 1919 Series.  He also revealed that helater learned that Gandil, Felsch, Williams, and Cicotte were amongthosein on the fix.

A couple of days later, thePhiladelphiaNorthAmericanran an interview with gambler Billy Maharg, providing the public forthefirst time with many of the shocking details of the scandal. Cicotteregrettedhis participation in the fix.  He seemed to Gleason and others tohave been stewing over something all summer.  Perhaps because ofthe Maharg interview or perhaps because he knew that he had alreadybeen implicated in the fix by Henrietta Kelly(manager of the rooming house where he and other players stayed),Cicotte decided totalk.

"I don't know why I did it,"Cicotte toldthe grand jury.  "I musthave been crazy. Risberg, Gandil, and McMullin were at me for a weekbeforethe Series began.  They wanted me to go crooked.  I don'tknow. I needed the money.  I had the wife and the kids.  The wifeandthe kids don't know about this.  I don't know what they'llthink." Tears came to Cicotte's eyes as he continued talking.  "I've liveda thousand years in the last twelve months.  I would have not donethat thing for a million dollars.  Now I've lost everything, job,reputation, everything.  My friends all bet on the Sox.  Iknew,but I couldn't tell them."

Within hours, the other Sox playerslearned that Cicotte had talked. Who would be next?  It was Joe Jackson that turned up in thechambers of presiding judge, CharlesMcDonald. Two hours after he began testifying, Jackson walked out of the juryroom,telling two bailiffs, "I got a big load off my chest!" [linkto Jackson confession]  On the way out of the courthouse,according to a story that ran in the Chicago Herald & Examiner, ayoungster said to Jackson, "It ain't so, Joe, is it?"--to which Jacksonreplied, "Yes, kid, I'm afraid it is."  (Jackson later denied thatsuch an exchange ever occurred: "The only one who spoke was a guy whoyelled at his friend, 'I told you he wore shoes.'")  Gandil,Risberg, and McMullin were not happy with developments, and let Jacksonknow that.  According to Jackson, the other players told himbefore his testimony, "You poor simp, go ahead and squawk.  We'llall say you're a liar."  Jackson said he asked for protection fromthe bailiffs when he left the jury room because "now Risberg threatensto bump me off...I'm not going to get far from my protectors until thisblows over."

That same day, in his office atComiskeypark, Charles Comiskey dictateda telegram that would be sent to eight of his players and then madepublic:YOU AND EACH OF YOU ARE HEREBY NOTIFIED OF YOUR INDEFINITE SUSPENSIONASA MEMBER OF THE CHICAGO AMERICAN LEAGUE BASEBALL CLUB.  With thosewords, the hopes of Sox fans for the 1920 championship came to anend. The final games in St. Louis would still be played--Harry Grabner,White Sox secretary, told the press,"We'llplay out the schedule if we have to get Chinamen to replace thesuspendedplayers"--but the results were predictable.

Defense attorneyWilliamFallon knew that to protect his clients, which included Abe Attelland other gamblers, he would have to keep Attelland Sport Sullivan away from the Chicago Grand Jury.  The twogamblerswere called to Rothstein's apartment, where Fallon announced thatSullivanwould go to Mexico and Attell to Canada.  Vacation with pay,Fallonsaid, as Rothstein pulled out his wallet.

Meanwhile, in Chicago, more detailsaboutthe fix were coming out. LeftyWilliams became the third White Sox player to tellhisstory to the Grand Jury, testifying for more than threehours.  Then Oscar Felsch told his version ofeventsin an interview that ran in theChicagoAmerican.  "Well, thebeansare spilled and I think I'm through with baseball," Felsch said. "I got $5000.  I could have got just about that much by being onthelevel if the Sox had won the Series.  And now I'm out ofbaseball--theonly profession I know anything about, and a lot of gamblers havegottenrich.  The joke seems to be on us."

Fallon decided to adopt a boldstrategyfor his client.  With Sullivanand Attell out of the country, he would bring Arnold Rothstein toChicagoto testify before the Grand Jury.  (Fallon had a second reason forheading west: he understood that Comiskey hated the investigation, andbelieved that a meeting with the Sox owner might be mutuallybeneficial.) Rothstein told the jury that he came to Chicago because he was "sickandtired" of all of the talk about his involvement in the fix.  "I'vecome here to vindicate myself....The whole thing started when Attellandsome other cheap gamblers decided to frame the Series and make akilling. The world knows I was asked in on the deal and my friends know how Iturnedit down flat.  I don't doubt that Attell used my name to put itover." Fallon's strategy worked. After his testimony, Cook County AttorneyMaclay Hoyne declared, "I don't think Rothstein was involved in it."

On October 22, 1920, the Grand Juryhanded down its indictments, namingthe eight Chicago players and five gamblers, including Bill Burns,SportSullivan, and Abe Attell.  Rothstein was not indicted.  Theindictmentsincluded nine counts of conspiracy to defraud various individuals andinstitutions.

Shortly after the indictments camedown,as the old staff of the Officeof State's Attorney was ready to be replaced by the newly electedRobertCrowe (the same man who prosecuted the Leopold and Loeb case), someimportantpapers walked out of the office.  George Kenney, State AttorneyHoyne's personal secretary, probably for money offered by Attell'slocal counsel, had lifted the confessions andwaivers of immunity of Cicotte, Jackson, and Williams.

Fallon begin to gather, for theplayers,some of the best and most expensivedefense attorneys in Illinois. Clearly, the impoverished Sox playersweren'tgoing to be footing the legal bills--so who was paying for them?Comiskey?Rothstein? No one who knew talked.  An acquittal would benefitComiskey, who held out hope that his suspended players could bereinstated--possibly after serving brief suspensions. 

Pushing most strongly forconvictions was American League President Ban Johnson, who--to hiscredit--was determined to clean up the sport.  Johnson becamefrustrated with the lack of support his investigation received fromComiskey: "We have been working on this case for three solid months andwe have not had an iota of cooperation from the Chicago club," Johnsoncomplained.

The defendants were arraigned onFebruary14, 1921.  All the ballplayerswere present, but none of the gamblers.  Defense lawyers presentedJudge William Dever with a petition for a bill of particulars, astatementthat would specify the charges against their clients with morespecificitythan the indictments contained.

A month later, George Gorman, forthe State, thenannouncedthe shocking news that the players' confessions had been stolen. A new set of charges was presented to a Grand Jury, who issued asuperceding indictment, adding five new gamblers, on March 26.

The Trial

Gambler "Sleepy Bill" Burns testifies at the 1921trial

On June 27, 1921, the case ofStateofIllinois vs Eddie Cicotte etal opened in the Chicago courtroom of Judge Hugo Friend. Theplayersfaced charges of (1) conspiring to defraud the public, (2) conspiringtodefraud Sox pitcher Ray Schalk, (3) conspiring to commit a confidencegame,(4) conspiring to injure the business of the American League, and (5)conspiringto injure the business of Charles Comiskey.  With the confessionsstill missing, George Gorman knew he faced a difficult fight.  Hedid, however, have one key witness who could tie the players to thefix:Sleepy Burns.  American League President Ban Johnson, with thehelpof Billy Maharg, had found Burns fishing in the Rio Grande in the smallTexas border town of Del Rio. Promised immunity from prosecution, Burnsreluctantly agreed to testify.

By July 5, with the defense'smotion toquash the indictments havingbeen rejected, jury selection began.  Before a final jury oftwelvewas seated, over 600 prospective jurors were questioned about theirsupportof the White Sox, their betting habits, and their views ofbaseball.  On potential juror, William Kiefer, was excused becausehe was a Cubs fan, and presumbably bore ill will against the team'scross-town rival.

On July 18, George Gorman deliveredtheprosecution's opening statement. Gorman described the 1919 Series fix as a chaotic chess game betweengamblers and players:  "The gamblers and ball players starteddouble-crossing each other untile neither side knew what the otherintended to do."  When he began to quote from a copy of Cicotte'sconfession, defenseattorneyMichael Ahearn (later called "Al Capone's favorite lawyer") objected,saying "You won't get to first base with thoseconfessions!"  Gorman countered, "We'll hit a home run with them!""You may get a long hit," Ahearn acknowledged, "but you'll be thrownoutat the plate."  Ahearn proved to be the better predictor. JudgeFriend did indeed call any mention of the confessions out of bounds.

The first witness for theprosecution wasCharles Comiskey, who provided a history of his career in baseball,from his days as a player beginning in Milwaukee in 1876, to hiscurrent position as president of the White Sox organization.  Oncross-examination, defense attorneys tried to show that Comiskey hadmademore money in 1920 than any previous year, thus undercutting theState'stheory that Comiskey had been financially injured by the allegedconspiracy. Judge Friend cut off this line of questioning, causing Ben Short tocomplain,"This man is getting richer all the time and my clients are chargedwithconspiracy to injure his business."

The following day sawSleepyBurns, dressed in a green checkered suit with a lavender shirt andbow tie, take the stand. He spoke, as described in a newspaper accountof the day, "in a low, even tone, which scarcely carried past the juryand repeatedly wiped his forehead with his handkerchief."  Underquestioning from prosecutor Gorman,Burns (who had been promised immunity in return for his testimony forthe prosecution) identified Eddie Cicotte as the instigator of the fixand the man with whom he had met at theHotelAnsonia in September of 1919.  When Gorman asked about hisconversationwith Cicotte on September 16 or 17, however, the defense objected andtheir objection wassustainedby Judge Friendly.  Burns described meetings in New York withCicotte, Gandil and Maharg during which a possible fix wasdiscussed.  He testified that he and Maharg "went to see ArnoldRothstein at a race track" to discuss possible financing.  Later,Burns told jurors, he and other gamblers held a meeting, two daysbefore the start of the Series, with seven of the Sox players duringwhich the promise to pay the players $20,000 for each thrown game wasmade:

For three days, Burns remained onthestand, recounting the many trialsand tribulations of the fix.  On cross-examination, defenseattorneystried unsuccessfully to shake Burns' assertion that it was the players,and not him, that came up with the idea of throwing the Series. Although he was forced to admit that some of his dates of meetings werewrong, many in the press thought that theprosecution's star witness turned in a superb performance. (Members ofthe jury might have been less impressed, based on the comments of ajuror in a post-trial interview with an AP reporter.)  AKansas City Times story from July21, 1921 reported, "At the end of his twelfth hour on the stand, thewitness appeared exhausted.  His body was limp in the witnesschair, his eyes were half closed, but his head was held back and hisanswers still came clearly and defiantly despite a cataract ofinnuendoes, disparaging remarks about his mentality and character andother bitter verbal shots heaped on by his questioners."  "If thatman's story is not proven false, we may as well consider our caselost," said one of the defense attorneys to a reporter.

The next witness for theprosecution was John O. Seys, secretary of the Chicago Cubs.  Seystestified that he met Attell at the Sinton Hotel the day before theSeries opener and that Attell said he was betting on Cincinnati. "Attell was taking all the White Sox money he could get," Seys toldjurors.  Meeting with Attell again before Game Three, Seystestified that the gambler told him "he wasn't going to bet onCincinnati that day because it looked like Dick Kerr, the Sox pitcher,would win." 

The big battle of the trial wasover theissue of how to handle themissing confessions and immunity waivers.  Judge Friend ruledthatno evidence of the confessions could be introduced unless the Statecouldprove that they were made voluntarily and without duress.  FormerState'sAttorney Hartley Replogle testified that the statements were madevoluntarilyandwithout any offer of reward.  Cicotte testified that Replogle hadpromised him that in return for his statement "I would be taken careof,"which he assumed meant not prosecuted.  Asked whether he was toldthat the statement he was about to make could be used against him,Cicottesaid, "I don't remember."  Prosecutor Gorman offered a differentstory, arguing Cicotte "was panic stricken and ran to the grand jury toconfess."  In his cross-examination of the pitcher, Gorman asked,"didn't you read about the ball scandal in the paper and telleverything of your own free will?"  Cicotte replied, "No, theypromised me freedom."  "Didn't you cry bitterly?", Gormanasked.  "I may have had tears in my eyes," Cicotte answered. Joe Jackson took the stand to offer asimilarstory.  Jackson said that he was told that "after confessing Icouldgo anywhere--all the way to the Portuguese Islands."  Askedwhetherhe read the document he signed before offering his statement, Jacksonreplied:"No.  They'd given me their promise.  I'd've signed my deathwarrant if they asked me to."  After listening to this testimony,Judge Friend ruled that the confessions could be part of the State'scase--but only to prove the guilt of the players giving the statements.

Judge Charles A. MacDonaldtestified as to meetings he had with Cicotte and Jackson before theirgrand jury testimony.  Cicotte told him, he said, that afterhitting the first batter in Game One "he played on the square." Cicotte told the judge he used his $10,000 pay-off to take care of amortgage on a Michigan farm and buy stock.  Jackson told the judgehe was first approached in New York about participating in the fix, andmade clear that it would take at least $20,000 for him to join. The initial offer, Jackson said to the judge, was so low "a commonlaborer wouldn't do a job like that for that price."  MacDonaldsaid that Jackson was concerned that his grand jury testimony be keptsecret because he "was afraid Swede Risberg was going to bump him off,to use Jackson's words."  On July 27, the confessions of Cicotte,Williams, and Jackson were read in court.  According to anewspaper report of the trial, "The actual transcript of theconfessions varied little from the frequently published reports ofthem."  In Cicotte's confession, he expressed misgivings about hisparticipation:  "I would gladly have given back the $10,000 theypaid me with interest."  Jackson denied makingany intentional fielding errors, but told the judge that he "might havetriedharder." 

Billy Maharg was the state's finalwitness.  The gambler confirmed Burns's story about an intialmeeting in New York involving Cicotte and Gandil.  Mahargtestified that Attell told him that Rothstein had agreed to finance thefix in return for his having once saved Rothstein's life.  He alsosaid that the first payment of $10,000 to Burns came when Attell pulledthe money "from a great pile of bills under his mattress," money thatRothstein had apparently sent by wire. 

The defense presented a variety ofalibi, character, and White Sox players and team officials aswitnesses. Sox manager Kid Gleason testified that the indictedSox players were practicing at the Cincinnati ballpark at the timeBurnsalleged he was meeting with them in a hotel room.  A series of Soxplayers not involved in the fix were called and asked whether theythoughtthe indicted players played the Series to the best of theirability.  The prosecution shouted its objections to each of thesequestions. The judge sustained the objections, as calling for opinions. Comiskey'schief financial officer, Harry Grabiner, was called to show that theSox gate receiptsin1920 were well above those in 1919, when the players allegedlydefraudedComiskey of his property.  The jury seemed intensely interested inthe financial testimony, which undermined the prosecution's contentionthat the White Sox was damaged by the players' actions.

On July 29,EdwardPrindeville summed up the case first for the prosecution.  Hetold the jury that "Joe Jackson, Eddie Cicotte, and Claude Williamssoldout the American public for a paltry $20,000.  This game,gentleman,has been the subject of a crime.  The public, the club owners,eventhe small boys on the sandlots have been swindled." Prindeville said,"They have taken our national sport, our national pleasure, and triedto turn it into a con game."  The prosecutor was particularlyscathing in his attack on Cicotte: "Cicotte, the American League'sgreatest pitcher, hurling with a heavy heart--by his ownconfession--and a pocket made heavy by $10,000 in graft, was beaten 9to 1.  No wonder he lost.  The pocket loaded with filth forwhich he sold his soul and his friends was too much.  Itoverbalanced him and he lost."  Prindeville asked thejury to return a "verdict of guilty with five years in the penitentiaryand a fine of $2000 for each defendant."  Gorman followedPrindeville. He asked the jury to remember the fans:

Thousands of menthroughout thechilly hours of the night,crouched in line waiting for the opening of the first World Seriesgame. All morning they waited, eating a sandwich perhaps, never daring toleavetheir places for a moment.  There they waited to see the greatCicottepitch a ballgame.  Gentleman, they went to see a ballgame. Butall they saw was a con game!"

Although evidence suggests that thejury was already leaning toward acquittal, the outcome of the trial mayhavebeensealed when Judge Friend chargedthe jury.  He told them that to return a guilty verdict they mustfind the players conspired "to defraud the public and others, and notmerelythrow ballgames."  (TheNew York Times editorialized thatthejudge's instruction was like saying the "state must prove the defendantintended to murder his victim, not merely cut his head off.")

The jury deliberated less thanthreehours.  When the Chief Clerk readthe jury's first verdict, finding Claude Williams not guilty, a hugeroarwent up in the courtroom.  As the string of not guilty verdictscontinued,the cheers increased.  Soon hats and confetti were flying in theairand players and spectators pounding the backs of jurors inapproval. Several jurors lifted players to their shoulders and paraded themaroundthe courtroom.

Joe Jackson told reporters, "Thejury could not have returned a fairer verdict, but I don't want to goback to organized baseball--I'm through with it."  Buck Weaversaid, "I had nothing to do with this so-called conspiracy; I believethat I should get my old position back.  I cannot express mycontempt for Bill Burns."  Claude Williams asked, "How could theverdict have been anything else?"  Gandil also claimed "never haveany doubt about the verdict" and blamed the whole trial ordeal on"those two liars, Bill Burns and Billy Maharg."  Eddie Cicotte,while shaking hands with jurors, had little to say about the trialoutcome: "Talk, you say?  I talked once in this building, neveragain."

The players joy wasshort-lived. The day after the jury's verdict,the new Commissioner of Baseball,JudgeKenesaw Mountain Landis, released a statement to the press:

"Regardless of the verdictofjuries, no player who throwsa ballgame, no player that undertakes or promises to throw a ballgame,no player that sits in conference with a bunch of crooked players andgamblerswhere the ways and means of throwing a game are discussed and does notpromptly tell his club about it, will ever play professional baseball."