Another Beer Here!

Google has posted eight new pictures of Borchert Field in its LIFE Magazine photo archive series on "Beer Drinking". Like the earlier photos, they were taken by Frank Scherschel and are dated July 7, 1949.

Most of the new shots are just slightly different looks, taken a second before or after photos we have seen before (if you haven't seen the earlier photos, you may wish to check them out first), but there are some new gems in this batch. This is the single best resource I've found to date for appreciating what attending a game at Borchert Field was really like in the late 1940s.

First up, we have two more shots of this jolly vendor, selling Miller High Life to thirsty fans sitting along the first baseline.

And two more of his colleagues, joining him in the same section:

You can practically hear the vendors' call.

Then we see this couple again, taking in the ballgame with a pair of cold brews:

Interestingly, based on the High Life label on that bottle, the earlier photo of them was flipped.

Next up are the entirely new views of Borchert Field. From what we can tell, the uncovered stands had metal folding chairs, but patrons in some of the covered sections sat on long benches:

And there were also sections with proper stadium seats.

I love the baseball/bat/glove design on the cast-iron row ends.

I've never seen a shot of those before. Wonder if any of the seats survived the 1952/1953 demolition, and where they might be today?

Lining Up at the Orchard, 1944

In this clipping from an 1944 early-season score card, we see the Brewer faithful lining up outside Borchert Field for Opening Day.

Dig the hats. Looking sharp, gentlemen.

1944 was a season of great change for the Brews. They returned from Spring Training with Charlie Grimm at the helm, but Jolly Cholly would get called up to the Chicago Cubs in May, leading him to look for a new manager.

They would choose Casey Stengel to take over as skipper. Team president Bill Veeck vehemently objected, but as Sport Shirt Bill was in the Marines at the time, he wasn't able to stop it.

Veeck needn't have worried. Casey stepped right in to Grimm's shoes (literally; he took the field wearing Charlie's jersey on his back) and guided the Brewers to a 102-51 record, an American Association pennant and the Little League World Series crown. Those fans lining up on Opening Day had no idea what fun they were in for.

Get Yer Tickets Here!

On Friday, April 26th, 1935, the Milwaukee Journal printed this photo of fans outside Borchert Field:

Arrive at Brewer Park Early for 1935 Season Opener

Some 8,000 fans were on hand to watch the Brewers and Kansas City Blues open the 1935 baseball season at Borchert field Friday afternoon. This crowd gathered before the ticket box office long before the start of the game.

Love the cars.

This is an unusual look at the ballpark. This picture appears to be looking southwest towards the corner of 8th Street and Chambers, looking down from the ballpark's roof.

Perhaps most notable in this photo are the exterior ticket kiosks, a feature of the ballpark dating back to the 19th century. This view of Athletic Park (as the Orchard was then known) was published in the Milwaukee Sentinel on May 8, 1892:

That's 8th and Chambers again, this time kitty-corner, looking northeast back towards the park (the streetcar is on Chambers, and home plate is behind the large tower).

The line art seems to be accurate - there's our kiosk, proudly selling tickets to the Brewers. That Milwaukee Brewers club was the Cream City's short-lived entry in the Western League.

This colorized postcard of a Sumner W. Matteson photograph shows how the 8th & Chambers ticket kiosk looked in 1909.

By this point, the ballpark itself is considerably less ornate, having lost its towers.

The visual evolution would continue; sometime after 1935, the distinctive ticket kiosks would be replaced by something larger, more boxy and utilitarian. This photograph was taken on the last opening day at Borchert Field, April 16, 1952:

The Journal picture was likely taken from the roof, right around the letters.

For seventy years, there was one place to go for the best tickets in town.

Forrest for the Trees

The Google News Archive strikes again, with this lovely shot from May of 1935:

Forest Pressnell's Hand Back in Shape

The Brewer pitching staff returned to full strength Wednesday when Forest (sic) Pressnell returned to duty. His injured hand is all right again but he needs work to get into good pitching form. He was beaten Wednesday by Kansas City. The picture shows him throwing his knuckle ball.

The hurler is Forrest "Tot" Pressnell, a knuckleballer who pitched for the Brewers from 1933 through 1937. The uniform Pressnell's wearing is the "fancy M" variation, introduced in April of 1935, just in time for Opening Day:

Pressnell came to the Brewers after the 1932 season from the Longview (Texas) Cannibals, a St. Louis Browns farm club. The Toledo News-Bee called him "one of the leading exponents of the knuckle ball among the younger generation of minor league pitchers." As with most knuckleballers of the times, he was accustomed to filling the dual roles of reliever and occassional starter.

Pressnell was eager for a shot with the Brewers, and was the first player to return his signed contract. He was able to because, unlike most players, he didn't try to negotiate a higher salary. The Milwaukee Journal noted that he included a note with his contract:

"I realize that clubowners are up against it in these times. But I am young and intend to stay in baseball for a long time. When conditions improve I know I will get more money."

True or not, the reports would go a long way to establishing Tot as a fan favorite.

The 1933 season was a very forgettable one for Brewers fans, as the club limped to a 67-87 record, good for second-worst in the American Association. Pressnell himself struggled against the stronger opposition—ending 1933 with a 10-13 record and an ERA of 5.01—as the team tried to "improve" on the delivery of his knuckle ball. In August, manager Frank O'Rourke had enough, and instructed his young hurler to ignore all the advice. Pressnell tore through the final month of the season (scoring most of his ten victories in the last four weeks). This promise was enough to make him one of the few Brewers brought back in 1934, as most of the Brewer squad was sent packing, including O'Rourke.

New Brewer skipper Al Sothoron was determined to learn from his predecesor's experience.

"Since I came (to Milwaukee) I have listened to a lot of ballyhoo about Pressnell. Friends tell me the boy might have won more than 10 games last year if fewer people had interfered with his style earlier in the season.

"A young pitcher can be ruined by having too many players telling him what to do. Pressnell's record for a first-year man in the A.A. is impressive."

Sothoron did make one immediate change; he swapped Tot's ill-fitting "dime store glove" with a larger one better fitting his large left hand, in hopes it would preventing him from telegraphing his pitches. The new glove seemed to knock Tot off his stride, and Sothoron was forced to let him return to the familiar, if undersized, glove. Sothoron had more success adding an off-speed pitch to Pressnell's repertoire, and by the end of Spring Training Tot was quoted as saying he had "learned more about piching under Sothoron than (he) had since joining organized baseball several years ago."

In addition, the Brewers brought veteran catcher George Susce from Detroit to handle the knuckleball, which Milwaukee fans had nicknamed the "dipsy-doo." With "Sweet Sue" as his backstop, Tot began to reward the Brewers for their faith. In addition to his starting appearances, Tot continued to pitch relief as well. He finished the season 15-11, and by the end of the season Sothoron's Brewers climbed to the middle of the American Association pack.

The 1935 season was a tough one for Pressnell. He missed most of May with a broken finger after being struck in the hand by a line drive off the bat of Toledo first baseman Bob Garbark, the injury mentioned in the first caption above. Susce was gone, released to the Mud Hens for starting fights with both teammates and fans.

Pressnell was made a full-time starter in 1936, and his 19-9 record that season was an integral part of the Brewers' pennant-winning campaign. Tot also pitched well in the playoffs, starting the final game of the 1936 Little World Series, which the Brewers won 8-3 to clinch the Little Series for Milwaukee.

Tuesday night will be Pressnell night at Borchert field, in honor of the Brewer mound ace, Forest (Tot) Pressnell. The picture gives some idea of his popularity. He stopped to autograph a program for a youngster and the third base stand above the clubhouse door broke out with a rash of youngsters with programs.

Tot's popularity in Milwaukee, which had started with his very first contract, continued to grow. He was the rare minor-league superstar who wasn't publicly angling for either more money or a big-league contract. Tot was biding his time, perfecting his craft in the American Association, while waiting for an opportunity to prove himself against the best in the Bigs.

Pressnell went 18-12 in 1937, when it was becoming increasingly clear to the Brewers and their fans that Tot would soon get that opportunity. "All Tot needs is a chance," Sotheron told the Sporting News. "He deserved promotion last year, but the scouts lacked the courage to recommend his purchase."

Brewer fans, for their part, were happy to keep him at Borchert Field. The club held a "Forrest Pressnell Night" on Tuesday, August 10, 1937. Before the game, which the Brewers won 6-2 on the strength of Presnell's 15th victory of the season, Tot was given a golf bag by his teammates. The fans presented him with a new car, an extremely generous gesture even if they reportedly traded in his old one to pay for it.

In 1938, Pressnell was finally rewarded for his years of hard work. The Brooklyn Dodgers brought Tot and fellow pitchers Whitlow Wyatt and Luke Hamlin from Borchert to Ebbets Field, where Pressnell quickly established himself as the Dodgers' number-one starter.

Tot's arrival in Brooklyn was overshadowed by another new face in the Bums' dugout; coaching on the first-base line that year was a baseball legend named George Herman Ruth. Two years removed from his days in the field, and already a charter member of baseball's Hall of Fame, the Sultan of Swat was trying to kick-start a managerial career.

Alas for the Babe, it was not to be. As the season went on, it became clear that the Dodgers always viewed him more as a quick box-office boost than a potential manager. They were happy to charge the crowds to watch their base coach take batting practice (and even play in exhibition games), but when a managerial vacancy came up at the end of the season, the Dodgers hired Leo Durocher. A diappointed and disillusioned Bambino left baseball for good, giving away his baseball equipment to the younger players he had hoped to lead. Pressnell ended up with Babe Ruth's glove, a keepsake Tot treasured for the rest of his life.

In 1940, the Dodgers acquired Milwaukee's Tex Carleton and Newt Kimball. With five former Brewers on his pitching staff, Brooklyn president Larry MacPhail boasted that the Dodgers had "the pitchers who made Milwaukee famous."

Having finally made it to the Majors, Tot went for the money he had known wasn't to come from the Brewers. He returned his contracts to the Dodgers unsigned, twice in 1939 and another four times in 1940, holding out each season.

Perhaps the holdouts soured Dodger management on Pressnell. Perhaps Tot's absence from Spring Training allowed other pitchers to make their case for his spot in the rotation. Whatever the case, in 1940 Pressnell found his playing time limited in favor of another knuckleballer, Freddie Fitzsimmons. In August, Tot was optioned back to the American Association, this time to the Dodgers' farm team in Louisville. He was there long enough to garner a 6-4 record before returning to the Dodgers in late September.

The 1940 off-season was a tough one, as the Dodgers sold him to the St. Louis Cardinals, who took less than a month to decide that they didn't have a spot for him. The Cards sold him to the Cincinnati Reds, who on February 4, 1941 sold his contract to the Chicago Cubs. Pressnell played for two seasons on Chicago's north side to close out his Major League career, coming in as a reliever in 56 games.

In 1943, new Brewers president and owner Bill Veeck bought his contract from the club and offered Pressnell a chance to return to the Orchard. Tot had hoped to stay in the Majors, but told Veeck that if was to play in the minors at all, it would be Milwaukee.

Unfortunately, there was to be no hero's return for Forrest Pressnell. Before agreeing to terms with Veeck he decided that, at 35, he'd had enough of minor league baseball. He elected to remain at his off-season job as a salesman with an oil company and retired from the game.

The Writing's on the Wall

While reading Paul Tenpenny's wonderful 1945 season review, one detail jumped out at me.

This exerpt from the Milwaukee Journal describes Bill Veeck's return to Milwaukee after being released from a naval hospital. His first stop, after getting off the train, was the corner of 8th & Chambers:

Bill got out of the car at the park and hobbled over the icy sidewalk to the ticket sellers' corner, where the beer barrel man, Awgoost, looks down from the outside wall and cutout letters stand up from the roof's edge to tell everyone that this is the "Milwaukee Brewers." Bill leaned on his cane, standing in the snow, and looked up at the place.

"Boy oh Boy!" he said. "Boy oh Boy!"

I'd never heard that description of the ballpark before. This photo, from about that time, shows the "cutout letters" on the roof as seen from Chambers Street:

From a 1998 issue of Lead Off, the Milwaukee Brewers official magazine, comes this rare color photo of the cutout letters:

Milwaukee Brewers archive photo

I don't think I've ever seen a picture of Owgust (or, as he's styled here, "Awgoost") on the side of the ballpark. He might have looked something along the lines of this rendering, from a 1943 program:

collection of Paul Tenpenny

When Bud Selig resurrected the Brewers identity for his Major League club, he brought a similar graphic to Milwaukee County Stadium. Seen here in 1976, the stadium's facade features a sign proudly proclaiming County Stadium as (finally) "Home of the BREWERS". On either side, the club's Beer Barrel Man logo swings for the fences:

Beneath the sign, a troupe of lederhosen-clad Beer Barrel Men play all the positions:

This echos the iconography used by the Brews in the 1940s, when team publications showcased Owgust and friends playing the game, including the masthead of Brewer News, the team's newsletter.

All part of the legacy of the American Assocation Milwaukee Brewers.

Oh! You Brewers!

This stunning pennant, made in 1913 to commemorate the Brewers' first pennant-winning season, comes to us from a recent MEARS auction. Those 1913 Brewers were a powerhouse club, winning 100 games in a particularly strong American Association.

They were led by skipper/third baseman Harry "Pep" Clark (right). Clark had been a fixture with the Brews as a third-sacker since 1904 (following his only major league appearance, a cup of coffee with the '03 White Sox). In 1913, team owner Agnes Havenor added "field general" to his duties, elevating him to the managerial spot vacated by her firing of skipper and local favorite Hugh Duffy.

Clark proved equally capably in both roles, hitting .286 with 159 hits, placing him at among the club's top batsmen, and guiding his club to a 100-67 mark.

The Brewers would cap off their 1913 campaign by beating the Denver Grizzlies in a post-season series to become the champions of Minor League ball.

The pennant itself has faded somewhat, as they often do. The reverse side gives us a better sense of its original navy-and-gold color scheme.


"Oh, You Brewers!" was a phrase associated with the 1913 club, as seen in this picture of the post-championship parade, which met the victorious players at the train station and wound its way across the Cream City.

Milwaukee welcomes home their champion Brewers
(Collection of Paul Tenpenny)

The sign on the far left, held aloft to the players as the parade streams by, shows us the signature phrase:

The New York Times reported on the festivities:

MILWAUKEE, Wis., Sept 30.—Milwaukee still is baseball mad, despite the fact that the American Association season closed yesterday. Several thousand "fans" crowded about the Union Station here to-day, and with brass bands and other noise-producing instruments welcomed home the Milwaukee team, winners of the association pennant, and incidentally the first pennant ever won by a Milwaukee team.

The players were escorted to automobiles which led a parade about the downtown districts. A big banquet in honor of the team will be held Thursday night, and seats for the function are selling at a premium. Theatre parties and receptions have been planned, and record-breaking crowds are expected to attend exhibition games to-morrow and Thursday with the Chicago Americans and Pittsburgh Nationals.

It's possible that this very pennant was proudly waved along the parade route, one more link between "baseball-mad" Milwaukee fans and the Brewers they loved.

Opening Day at the Orchard, 1931

As the 1931 season approached, it was clear to the Brewers that they had something special on their hands. Everywhere you looked, baseball was in the air:

Milwaukee was full to bursting with baseball fever, and the Brews were looking forward to a record turnout at Borchert Field for April 29th's Opening Day game against the Toledo Mud Hens.

The BrewerRooters didn't disappoint - 13,113 fans jammed themselves into every square inch of the old ballpark, the largest Opening Day crowd in Milwaukee baseball history. Unfortunately, they would all go home unhappy as the Mud Hens hammered the Brews.

The Brewers had been so confident that they had constructed temporary bleachers along the left field fence to accomodate the expected crowds:

Part of 13,000 Crowd at Opener

This picture, taken by a Journal staff photographer, shows part of the crowd of 13,000 that watched the Brewers and Toldeo Mud Hens open the season at Borchert Field Wednesday afternoon. It is that part of the crowd in the temporary bleachers in left field. The picture was taken after the two teams had goose stepped to the flagpole where, just before the start, the flag was raised.

That must have made a very short porch to left, considering that the left field fence was only 267 feet from home plate without the added bleachers. That appears to be about a dozen rows of additional seating - figure about three feet deep for each row and suddenly the left field fence is only 230 feet away. Tempting target.

Although the Brewers didn't win the game, the tremendous Opening Day crowd did win the 1931 Hickey Cup for Milwaukee. Named for Thomas Jefferson Hickey, one of the founders of the American Association and at the time still its reigning president, the Hickey Cup was awarded annually by the American Association to the club with the largest Opening Day attendance.

The victory earned the Brews a mention in The New York Times:

The Cup itself sat in the Brewer office until Bill Veeck dragged it out in June of 1942, incensed that his opening day crowd of 15,599 was deemed lower than the 12,242 Indianapolis drew to their first game (the American Association calculated attendance on a per capita basis, Milwaukee's 2.6% to Indy's 2.9%). Veeck bought the Brewers a massive trophy and, in a pregame ceremony at Borchert Field, offered the relatively tiny 1931 Cup to the wartime tin drive.



This was of course only one of Veeck's legendary "gags," and the 1931 Hickey Cup was spared the recycling bin. It survives today in the collection of Paul Tenpenny, a testiment to Milwaukeeans' love for their Brewers.

Hip Hip, Hooray!

The Brews always had great fans at Borchert Field, but none better than this group of young ladies captured by a Journal photographer at the 1939 home opener:

Truest supporters of the Milwaukee baseball team are these young ladies, who cheered themselves hoarse at the season's opener here Wednesday. They formed a club, the Milwaukee Brewers' Boosters, last October, made the natty outfits you see and ordered their opening day tickets last January so as to be near the Brewer dugout. Left to right are Geraldine Schneider, Janet Constantine, Mildred Wroblewski, Ethel Barber, Mercedes Oelstrom and Henrietta Constantine. (Journal Staff Photo)

The sweaters are great, but I'd kill for one of those hand-painted megaphones.

Playing in the Snow at Athletic Park

by Dennis Pajot

Eighty-nine years ago today, on Friday, April 15, 1921, the Milwaukee Brewers and St. Paul Saints appeared at Milwaukee’s Athletic Park at 8th and Chambers to play a game of baseball. Only 176 paying customers were in the park to watch the game. The majority of these were huddled in the east grandstand seats, to keep warm in the 20 degree weather, made worse by a frigid April wind. The Milwaukee Journal reported only 10 spectators were in the bleachers. To add to this, Milwaukee was in the beginning of one of the worst blizzards it could remember.

The next morning the Milwaukee Sentinel wondered if Brewer owner Otto Borchert was "planning to start a league among the Eskimos with Nome, Klondike, Frozen Dog and other Arctic points in the circuit." But, indeed, "an alleged game of baseball" took place. The paper thought that just the fact the game made it nine innings was "one for the book." The Sentinel's Manning Vaughan wrote the game was played "regardless of the health of high priced athletes and utter regardless of the poor down-trodden newspaper scribe."

It was reported that by the third inning the diamond was so thoroughly blanketed by snow that batted balls had to be dug out of the snow. All that was needed to make it a most festive occasion were "some sleigh bells and some mistletoes to have over Otto’s curly head." The paper's editors helped in this respect with a Christmas motif, when giving the score.

Milwaukee Sentinel—April 16, 1921

The game turned out to be a burlesque affair, with rain, hail and snow falling throughout the game. Running around in mud up to the player’s shoe tops, the Brewers won the game 7 to 4. Milwaukee’s "Unser Choe" Hauser went 4 for 4, and rookie pitcher Ray Lingrel relieved starter Nemo Gearin in the fourth inning, pitching scoreless ball and was credited with the win. About only 50 spectators were around at the end of the game.

The day after the game the Evening Sentinel was in a less jovial mood than the other Milwaukee newspapers:

There was absolutely no excuse for playing the game. There was about one hundred and fifty fans in the stands at game time, and they yelled "play ball" so loudly that it was finally decided to start. The job was then up to the umpires. They could have stopped it any time after the first ball was pitched, and they would not have been violating any rules.

The evening paper went on to say the St. Paul newspapermen said they had never seen a game played under such conditions, and the editor of the Milwaukee paper agreed. How bad were the playing conditions? According to a report years later every time a ball hit the oozy clay surrounding home plate it stuck tight and had to taken out of play. A St. Paul runner was thrown out at home when he became mired in the mud between third and home.

Milwaukee, indeed, was walloped with a snow storm that day and into the next. Nearly 15 inches of snow fell in 27 hours. 40 miles per hour winds caused drifts of ten feet. The newspapers reported the city was almost isolated from the rest of the world by the "most terrific blizzard in the history of the city." Within the city streetcars and trains were stalled, while streets were completely blocked by high drifts. Early reports placed damage in the millions of dollars.

A few years later an account of what happened was given in the Milwaukee Journal. Before the game umpires Bill Finneran and Buck Freeman called Otto Borchert to their dressing room and suggested he call the game off. Borchert’s reply was: "I'll call off games when I want to. Your job is to umpire. Now get out there and go to work." The game started at 3:05, five minutes late.

The Saints scored three runs off Gearin in the top of the first inning, and Borchert yelled down to the umpires from the press box: "Call off the game! I can’t see the ball!" Finneran yelled back: "You wanted to play a few minutes ago when we asked you to postpone the game. You told us that our job was to umpire. Well, that’s what we’re doing." In the 1939 obituary for Nick Allen, who caught for St. Paul that day, it was reported by the third inning the fielders could not follow the flight of the ball. Allen pleaded with the umpire to call off the game before someone got hurt. The umpire told him "Borchert insisted that we start the game despite the threatening weather. I'll go through with this no matter what happens to you guys."

The Brewers scored six runs in the bottom of the fourth inning—reportedly aided by the Saints' difficulty in finding the ball—to take a 6 to 4 lead and umpire Finneran asked the Brewer owner: "Do you want the game called off now?" Borchert roared back: "You'll finish this game if it’s the last thing you do." The Brewers scored one more run in the seventh to conclude the scoring. By the end of the game all the players except the pitchers were wearing their sweater coats.

As the snow continued, the next day's game—plus the entire next series with the Minneapolis Millers—would be cancelled. But the St. Paul players played another game the day after the "snowball game." All day they telephoned the Brewer office, asking "Will there be a ball game today?"


SOURCES

Milwaukee Journal April 15, 1921, May 3, 1935, October 18, 1939, April 4, 1971
Milwaukee Sentinel April 16, 17, 1921
Milwaukee Evening Sentinel April 16, 1921
Milwaukee Journal Sentinel June 7, 1998

A Loving Cup

On April 29th, 1931, BrewerRooters jammed themselves into every square inch of old Borchert Field to watch the Brews open the season against the Toledo Mud Hens. There were 13,113 of them at the ballpark that afternoon, the largest Opening Day crowd in Milwaukee baseball history.

Although the Brewers would lose the game, thanks to the tremendous hometown crowd they did win the 1931 Hickey Cup. Named for Thomas Jefferson Hickey, one of the founders of the American Association and at the time still its reigning president, the Hickey Cup was awarded annually by the American Association to the club with the largest Opening Day attendance.

The victory earned the Brews a mention in The New York Times:

The Cup itself sat in the Brewer offices until Bill Veeck dragged it out in June of 1942. Incensed that his Opening Day crowd of 15,599 was deemed lower than the 12,242 Indianapolis drew to their first game (the American Association calculated attendance on a per capita basis, Milwaukee's 2.6% to Indy's 2.9%). Veeck bought the Brewers a massive trophy and offered the 1931 Cup to the wartime tin drive in a pregame ceremony at Borchert Field.

This was of course only one of Veeck's legendary "gags," and the 1931 Hickey Cup was spared the recycling bin. It survives today in the collection of Paul Tenpenny, a testament to Milwaukeeans' love for their Brewers.

"15,599"

Thursday April 16, 1942 was opening day for the hometown fans at Borchert Field. The preparations for a memorable day were in place and not even a little rain could stop him now. Look out American Association... here comes Bill Veeck!

by Paul Tenpenny
(Tencentz@aol.com)
Copyright 2009 Tencentzports
Printed with permission of the Author

In 1936, the Milwaukee Brewers were at the top of their game. The American Association Champions finished the season with 90 wins and 64 losses, breezing through the playoffs. They defeated Buffalo 4 games to 1 for the Little World Series crown.

In 1937, led by local favorite Kenny Keltner (batting .310) and slugger Ted Gullic (.321), the crew finished the season with a respectable 83-70 record, good enough for a 4th place finish in the hotly-contested American Association's 1st division.

1938 found the Brewers finishing in similar fashion, this time in 3rd place with an 81-70 record. Whitlow Wyatt pitched in with a scorching 23-7 season and a 2.37 ERA.

The continuing attrition of its better players anchored the Milwaukee Brewers to the depths of the American Association for both 1939 and 1940. 1941 looked to be a repeat of the bad performances of the previous two years, and both Milwaukee and its owner Henry Bendinger were looking for change.

A bit further south, a young Bill Veeck Jr., whose father was baseball executive William L. Veeck, a past and very successful president of the Chicago Cubs, was looking beyond Chicago. Bill Jr. was anxious to try out his own ideas on how to run a ball club, instead of being confined within the vine-covered walls of Wrigley field that he had planted.

When Bendinger approached Chicago Cubs owner Phil Wrigley about buying the team, Wrigley declined, so Bill saw his chance to strike out on his own, according to his friend, Charlie Grimm. With Grimm in tow and with the blessing of Phil Wrigley, the 27 year old Veeck put together some "creative" financing and arrived in Milwaukee on June 23, 1941 as the new owner of the Milwaukee Brewers.

Charlie Grimm listens intently to Bill Veeck Sr.
(Original Press Photo-Author's Collection)

Contrary to some opinions, Milwaukee always had a strong base of fan support. Veeck knew this and his main concern upon arrival was to spruce up the old park and improve the on-field product to bring those loyal fans back in force.

Bill wasn't above getting his hands dirty, or his pants wet!
(Photo courtesy Baseball Hall of Fame)

Taking out a loan, he set out to make Borchert Field a cleaner, more welcoming ballpark. Both he and Charlie burnt the midnight oil with the hired help scrubbing down the place. A new coat of paint spruced things up a bit and a new Ladies room was constructed for his female guests. People were beginning to see a change.

Shirtsleeve Bill greets his "guests"
(Photo courtesy Baseball Hall of Fame)

Bill continued a habit he had started in Chicago. He made it a regular practice to meet and speak with Milwaukee fans to find out what they liked or disliked, complaints or compliments. He sat with them during the games, he shook hands before and after games. He knew what they wanted and gave it to them and then some. He acknowledged that a lot of his best ideas came from the fans. He was still a "fan" himself.

His biggest job was improving the team. 1941 was a transition year for sure as Bill put in many hours trying to pry the team out of last place. Unfortunately, that is where they ended up by season's end.

He made many changes and was confidently looking forward to opening day in 1942.

So were the players. In his 10th year in the league, Ted Gullic was enthusiastic when speaking of the 1942 Milwaukee Brewers. "This club is so good." said Gullic, "I'll have a tough time holding a job, I mean that. We have loads of power. That boy Stanky is really a shortstop, the kind Brewer fans will rave about."

A lot of new faces were on the 1942 team. Manager Charlie Grimm's Milwaukee Brewers were more than ready for the season opener on April 16, 1942. Grimm was predicting a pennant if his pitching held up.

1942 Milwaukee Brewers Season Roster
(Courtesy Rex Hamann, American Association Almanac)

The 1942 Milwaukee Brewers Team Picture/Poster
(Author's Collection)

The 1942 Milwaukee Brewers Closeup #1
(Naktenis, Blaeholder, Lanfronconi & Vandenberg)
(Becker, Gullic Norman & Secory)

The 1942 Milwaukee Brewers Closeup #2
(Grimm, Page, George, Stanky & Clarke)
(Rogers, Lowry, Lawson & Peck)

Opening day arrived with tickets selling briskly and Borchert Field workers scrambling to finish the improvements on the ball park. It appeared that sales were within reach of the record crowd of 1927's opener of 15,282. Since then, the highest the Brewers could muster on opening day was the 13,113 attendance of 1931.

Amid the opening day hoopla, a record crowd was ready for a great season opener as this Milwaukee Journal photo taken at 2:45 pm Thursday April 16th attests. But in a matter of minutes, dark clouds opened up with a furious downpour which had the fans and players alike, scrambling for cover.

It ended as quickly as it started, with the sun shining a short time later, but the damage was done. The downpour flooded the playing field and the Milwaukee Brewers had to call the game.

Bill Veeck walked on to the field after the downpour marveling at the sunshine and empty stands that surrounded him. Rain happens and so do opportunities...

Every year, the American Association gives a trophy to the team who's opening day attendance is the largest. With 15,599, a new record for Borchert Field, Milwaukee seemed to have a shot at that trophy. But the rain had started another storm ... that of protest. Bill appealed to League President George Trautmann who seemed to agree that the cash customers were present and the game got underway, so it was an official opening day crowd. Others cried foul, that it was a rainout, so it shouldn't count. Trautman overuled that protest as a poll of 6 clubs showed a majority backed Milwaukee's game as counting. Unfortunately, the opening day trophy is awarded to the city having the greatest per capita attendance on the first day of the season. So, Indianapolis who had 12,242 or 2.9% of its population vs. Milwaukee's 15,599 or 2.6%, was awarded the trophy.

There was no doubt in Bill Veeck's mind nor in the hearts of the local fans, that Milwaukee deserved the trophy ... and darn it, if they were not going to give them one, Bill would take care of it himself.

The presentation of the trophy was no secret. American Association President George Trautman was invited to Borchert Field to be on hand when the ceremony would take place on Tuesday June 2, 1942 before that night's game.

How he was going to do it was a surprise to all in attendance. Bill Veeck was about to spring on Milwaukee what would become his trademark - the Stunt. As the ceremony began. an armored car drove up and uniformed guards brought out the near 4 foot tall trophy. For contrast, Veeck pulled out a smaller trophy from a nearby garbage can, that trophy being the league trophy given to Milwaukee by the American Association when they did win the attendance award with 13,113 in 1931. Puny by comparison to his trophy, he cajoled Trautman to donate that one to the Government for its tin drive. The league president was a captive audience sitting in his box seat, with nowhere to hide. Bill went on after him, having the time of his life, presenting Trautment with a red banded white cane and a seeing eye dog, while the song "Three Blind Mice" played over the public address system, suggesting the dog and cane should be standard equipment for all league umpires. He also gave George a bouquet of vegetables.

It was all in good fun and even though the crowd couldn't hear what Bill was saying into the mike, everyone seemed to understand and enjoyed it thoroughly.

The 1931 Attendance Trophy (Author's Collection)

Veeck in his Borchert Field Office -
1931 "13,113" Attendance Trophy on far left
Bill's "15,599" Trophy 2nd from right.
(Photo Author's Collection-courtesy Baseball Hall of Fame)

While the 1931 trophy obviously survived the "tin drive", as it shows up in this 1945 photo of Bill back in his Borchert Office, it is unclear what happened to the 15,599 trophy. Bill Veeck tells the tale of reusing a large trophy several times and just changing the brass plate for each occasion, which may very well have been Milwaukee's 15,599 trophy, so it may be lost to history.

The Brewers went on to much success in 1942, finishing in 2nd place and Bill Veeck was named minor league executive of the year. This was only the beginning of a brilliant baseball career and baseball would never, ever be the same.