Ross 'Satch' Davis, proud member of Negro League's Cleveland Buckeyes, dies at 94
CLEVELAND, Ohio -- It was almost impossible to get Ross "Satch" Davis to stop talking about baseball.
The late Negro Leagues star pitcher loved recalling his days playing for teams all across the country before he died last month. That included his two tenures with the Cleveland Buckeyes, this city's top-level entry in the all-black leagues that thrived before the integration of Major League Baseball in 1947.
"He was very proud [of his career]," said Joella Vordtriede, Davis' daughter. "That's all he talked about, to anyone who would listen. My father was a very private person. The baseball thing was what he talked about the most."
And, said Melinda Ramsey, who helped Davis spend his final years living at her ranch in Garwood, Texas, the former hurler's greatest affinity was for Cleveland.
"His favorite team [when Davis was playing] was the Cleveland Buckeyes," Ramsey said. "He liked it in Cleveland. He always said he wished he never moved [from there].
"But," she added with a laugh, "it was too cold."
Born in 1918 in Greenville, Miss., Davis moved to St. Louis as a child and developed his pitching skills on the same sandlots that produced Hall of Fame speedster James "Cool Papa" Bell, Quincy Trouppe and Elston Howard.
It's also where Davis picked up his nickname. When the great Leroy "Satchel" Paige came through the city, the future Hall of Fame hurler noticed Davis' blazing fastball and asserted that it could very well have been even faster than his own. Paige himself thus bequeathed Davis with the nickname, and it stuck.
From there, Davis caught on with a Mexican League team before returning to the states to star for the Baltimore Elite Giants in 1940. For the Elites, he combined with future Hall of Fame catcher and Brooklyn Dodgers star Roy Campanella to hurl a no-hitter against a potent Newark Eagles lineup of eventual Hall inductees Willie Wells, Biz Mackey and Monte Irvin.
After a brief tenure with the New York Black Yankees, Davis arrived in Cleveland in 1943 for his first stint with the Buckeyes. In a preseason tune-up in April of that year, Davis struck out eight Black Yankees in three innings of work.
"His blinding speed dazzled the easterners and kept them swinging where they weren't," reported the Call and Post on May 1, 1943.
Later that year, in June, Davis beat his famous namesake, Paige himself, when the Bucks topped the powerhouse Kansas City Monarchs in a game at Rochester, N.Y.
But this was during World War II, and the Army came calling. He spent roughly two years in the service, earning a Bronze Star before being discharged after a bout with hepatitis. He signed in 1946 with the Boston Blues of the short-lived United States League, Dodgers impresario Branch Rickey's short-lived black baseball experiment.
Then, in December 1946, Davis returned to the Buckeyes, helping them to the '47 Negro American League title and the Negro World Series as part of a pitching staff that included Lefty Clarke, Chet Brewer, Alonzo Boone, Doc Bragana and Clyde Williams. The Bucks eventually lost the World Series to the New York Cubans.
After the 1947 season, Davis, dogged by persistent health problems and feeling that the joy had gone out of playing, retired from the game at the still-tender age of 29.
He worked numerous jobs here and there before moving to Long Beach, Calif., later in life. In his 80s, Davis connected with Melinda and Mike Ramsey over the Internet. The couple developed such a liking for the affable Davis that they built an addition to their house at their Texas ranch. The former pitching star lived out his final years with the Ramseys before his death in Houston on New Year's Day at 94.
Friends with everyone
Davis was easy with a smile and befriended everyone he met. "He just had that type of personality," said Vordtriede, Davis' daughter.
Melinda Ramsey agreed. "He was a very caring person," she said. "He had so much capacity to love that you couldn't help but love him."
Davis' seasons with the Buckeyes were just a small fiber of the rich African-American hardball history in Cleveland. More than 10 professional black teams existed at various points in the city's history, and although only the Buckeyes lasted more than two years, the fact that so many teams played in the region perhaps reflects the importance baseball held in Cleveland's black community.
In addition, the Cleveland Indians were the first American League team to integrate when, in July 1947, the squad -- owned by legendary and eccentric owner Bill Veeck, who had championed the integration of the sport since the early 1940s -- signed Larry Doby of the Newark Eagles. In 1974, the Indians hired Frank Robinson as baseball's first black manager.
The Negro Leagues played such a vital part of the community that the Society for American Baseball Research's Negro Leagues committee held its annual conference in Cleveland last year.
The Buckeyes won two NAL pennants and swept the mighty Homestead Grays in the Negro World Series in 1945. But Stephanie Liscio, a doctoral student at Case Western Reserve University and author of a book about Doby, the Indians and the Buckeyes, said so much of that history has been overlooked by baseball fans.
"Most people can name the Buckeyes, but forget that there were 10 other Negro League teams in Cleveland between 1920 and 1940," Liscio said. "Even when it comes to the Buckeyes, I think people don't realize the significance of the team."
Liscio said Satch Davis was overshadowed by more famous teammates such as Sam Jethroe, who eventually played in the majors. As a result, Davis spent much of his post-baseball life in obscurity. But his daughter said he deserves to be recognized for his contributions to the sport he loved, especially since he played during a time when institutionalized racism ruled baseball.
"As his daughter, I was proud of what he accomplished, especially because of the era he did it in," Vordtriede said. "It was very difficult back then for blacks to achieve anything."
Even given his experiences with segregation, said Ramsey, his friend, Davis maintained a sunny outlook and warm charisma.
"The things that happened to him in the past, he didn't dwell on that stuff," Ramsey said. "More people need to be like him. He loved everybody, black or white.
"He is a big loss," she added. "But he made it to 94, so he had a pretty long life, and he's still in all of our hearts."
Ryan Whirty is a free-lance writer who lives in the New Orleans area.
