65 years ago, Satchel Paige got his first win for the Cleveland Indians

By Ryan Whirty, July 15, 2013 in the Plainsdealer

There were a fair share of doubters after the Indians signed Satchel Paige to a contract in July 1948.
Most people had heard stories of Paige's glory days, had heard how dominant the Alabama native had been in the Negro Leagues for more than two decades, had heard about his fanning legendary slugger Josh Gibson on three straight whiffs, had heard about him telling his outfielders to have a seat because he was so good and so confident.

But this . . . this was different. This was major-league baseball, the Show, the pinnacle of baseball achievement. And ol' Satch was 42 years old (give or take a year or two). What was Bill Veeck, the whimsical, renegade owner of the Indians, thinking when he signed Paige to a major-league contract July 7, 1948? The Indians were in the thick of a pennant race, and he's bringing in someone who's practically a senior citizen, for cryin' out loud?

"How much help he can give the Indians now is problematical . . ." opined New York Times legend Arthur Daley on July 8, 1948. "The speed has gone from his arm but the cunning still remains. . . . The Satch of a decade or two ago might have been able to assure the Tribe of a pennant. But he's been in the twilight of his career for so long that there's just no telling."

But there were just as many believers. Listen to the man who cracked the major-league color wall a year before.

"While we were together at Kansas City [with the Monarchs] I became aware of the greatness of the man," wrote Jackie Robinson on July 17 in his weekly column for the Pittsburgh Courier. "He is not only one of the best pitchers I have ever seen, he is also one of the greatest competitors that ever put on a baseball uniform. . . . I know that Paige will help the Cleveland Indians a great deal in their drive for the pennant."

About three months later, Paige had answered all questions with an exclamation point. The Indians had won the World Series -- their last for 65 years and counting -- and all Paige had done was go 6-1 with a 2.48 ERA, including two complete-game shutouts. Instead of overpowering batters as he did years before -- his fastball had, by 1948, lost its burn -- Paige used laser-like accuracy, baffling batters with a curveball and knuckler.

As authors, historians and fans in general look back six and a half decades, no more questions, no more doubts remain. Without Satchel Paige, the Indians wouldn't have been able to snatch the American League pennant from the Boston Red Sox.

"If you remove Paige's contribution, in such a tight pennant race, I don't think the Indians manage to win the AL and go to the World Series," said Stephanie Liscio, a doctoral student and researcher on Negro Leagues history at Case Western Reserve University. "He didn't get much playing time during the World Series (just two-thirds of an inning, in which he pitched well), but they may not have even made it that far without him."

Larry Tye, author of 2010's acclaimed "Satchel: The Life and Times of an American Legend," agreed. It was almost as if Paige had emerged from a plume of misty fog and took his place in the Indians dugout, like a magician exploded through a haze of theatrical stage smoke, a survivor of the rigors of segregation and an unspoken "gentlemen's agreement" that prevented him -- and hundreds of other Negro League greats -- their fair shot at the big time.
 
Tye said having someone like that in the bullpen -- a lanky, crafty pitcher of supreme confidence, wisdom and battle scars -- reassured the Indian hurling staff that a championship was easily in their grasp.

"He was coming seemingly out of the pages of history onto that championship team," Tye said. "He lived through everything, all of the racial trials and tribulations of baseball. Having him alongside all those younger pitchers, it just gave them confidence. He was just an extraordinary figure. Everyone was drawn to him. He was just a character. [Teammates] loved his sense of humor, and they loved what he could do [on the mound]."

Paige got his first Major-League win July 15, 1948 -- 65 years ago today -- in a relief role when the Tribe downed the Philadelphia A's, 8-5. Realizing Paige's potential to rally the team, Cleveland player/manager Lou Boudreau gave him the start Aug. 3, and, after a shaky beginning, Paige settled down to pick up another victory.

The moment came in front of more than 72,000 frenzied fans, a league record for a night game, and boosted Cleveland back into first place.

But then came Paige's crowning performances -- two complete-game shutouts, a 5-0 win over the White Sox on Aug. 13 and a 1-0 domination of Chicago on Aug. 20. The old man gave up only three hits per game, and on Aug. 13 at Comiskey Park, more than 50,000 fans jammed the seats, with thousands more streaming in illicitly by swamping ticket-takers.

At home on the 20th, another record crowd of more than 78,000 turned out at Cleveland Stadium, meaning more than 200,000 people had witnessed the three starts of a man who was supposedly past his prime. Pundits took note of Paige's effect at the turnstiles, with the esteemed Chicago Defender tabbing Paige "Baseball's "Greatest Drawing Card," the inheritor of that title from Babe Ruth himself.
Behind the scenes, though, was Veeck, the hardball showman and proverbial dice-roller who had defied the skeptics and signed a supposedly aging Paige to help his team to a world crown, a move that, by October, seemed like madcap genius.

"Veeck knew Paige still had a great deal of talent, even at the age of 42," Liscio said. "He also knew that Paige would be a great promotional draw, due to his popularity in the Negro Leagues and the increased crowds on days in which he was scheduled to pitch. Veeck definitely took a risk because of Paige's age, and the fact that he was known to go to the beat of his own drum and to speak his mind. At the same time, it would be a great promotional draw, and Paige's accuracy was still laser sharp, even in his 40s."

Tye stressed that Veeck's role in integration has been overshadowed by his National League counterpart, the Brooklyn Dodgers' Branch Rickey, who had signed Robinson to initially break the color barrier. Veeck, Tye noted, integrated the American League when he signed Larry Doby in July 1947, but he added that the visionary owner had wanted to crack the wall several years earlier when he bought the Philadelphia Phillies.

With the inking of Paige, Veeck confirmed his importance and trailblazing vision, Tye said. The two figures, pitcher and owner, were in many ways mirror images of each other -- bold, outspoken, self-assured to the point of cockiness and quite aware of the importance of seizing their chance to change history.

"He is very overlooked when it comes to integration," Tye said of Veeck. "He wanted to do it before Branch Rickey ever dreamed about doing it. And it took a lot of courage to sign Satchel Paige. [Veeck] was every bit as important to integration as Branch Rickey, but he's never gotten the credit that Branch Rickey has."

The fates of everyone involved would change significantly over the next few years, however. Paige pitched well for the Tribe in '49, but his numbers couldn't compare to his stats a year before. And in the end, the destiny of owner and player remained entwined -- Veeck sold the team after the 1949 campaign because of his divorce, and, with that, the Indians gave Paige his unconditional release.

Veeck went on to become even more larger-than-life -- after buying the bumbling St. Louis Browns, he famously signed little person Eddie Gaedel to draw fans, and his unfortunate swan song came in 1979 when, as the owner of the White Sox, Veeck staged Disco Demolition Night, an over-the-top and literally explosive event that ended in an actual on-field riot.

Paige, meanwhile, bounced around pro and semipro ball at various levels, including a fairly successful three-year stint with Veeck's Browns in the early 1950s, the minor leagues and the Negro Leagues until he finally gave his arm a permanent rest in 1966. He eased into the life of a folk hero and homespun philosopher and, in 1971, became the first player to spend most or all of his career in the Negro Leagues to be inducted in the Baseball Hall of Fame. He was followed into the hallowed hall by Veeck exactly 20 years later.

Ryan Whirty is a free-lance writer who lives in the New Orleans area.