Thursday, March 31, 2011

Eddie Foster, My Great-Grandfather













Baseball's Opening Day was today.  Opening Day is a reminder of two things for me. One thing I'm reminded of is how I used to enjoy listening to the St. Louis Cardinals on the radio when I was a kid (we didn't have cable).  The other thing I'm reminded of is that my great-grandfather, Edward Cunningham Foster (a/k/a "Eddie Foster," a/k/a "Kid"), played Major League Baseball in the deadball era (the teens and twenties).  My grandfather (Eddie's son) told me lots of good stories about Eddie Foster.  One story is that Babe Ruth took Eddie Foster and his family (including my grandfather) out to dinner one night.  My grandfather was a small child at the time, but years later he still remembered that Babe Ruth could put away a lot of steak.  Eddie Foster was also friends with Ty Cobb.  The best story my grandfather told me, which I of course can't document, is that Eddie Foster kept Ty Cobb from shooting Babe Ruth one night after a game!

My great-grandfather's life was fascinating.  He went from reform school miscreant to rowdy hard-living ballplayer to born-again Bible thumping Christian in the space of about 20 years.  Four or five years ago, I did a google search of Eddie Foster and stumbled across an excellent biographical sketch written for the Washington Baseball Historical Society's website in the early 2000's.  This story is no longer cached anywhere on the web that I can find, but I copied it back when I found it and I have pasted it below for posterity.
 
Eddie Foster - King of the Hit and Run
 
By Tom Holster
 
Unless you are an avid baseball historian, I doubt the name Eddie Foster means much to you.  His days toiling on a major league diamond are now better than 75 years in the past.  He played in that nearly forgotten age celebrated in Lawrence Ritter's classic oral history, "The Glory of Their Times," pre-prohibition baseball of the teens and before.

One need only read Ritter's book to be struck by the vastly different way the game was played in those still formative years. It was a world of spitballs, emoryballs, and shineballs. A world where a single baseball might well survive an entire 9-inning game, despite having been rendered virtually black from an infielders' chewing tobacco or licorice. Batters like Foster would often "choke up" on the bat nearly to the trademark, as the object was to poke the ball through a hole in the infield defense as opposed to crushing it over the fence.


Small, tough-as-nails scrappers who played the game with a rough abandon also characterized the age. Eddie, at 5 feet, 6-1/2 inches, 145 pounds definitely fit the mold. He was no power hitter. In fact, with his 6 career home runs, he ranks dead last among players who came to the plate at least 5000 times. But what he may have lacked in long-ball prowess, he made up for by being a master of the little game … bunts, stealing bases, and executing the hit and run.


He was acknowledged the master of the hit and run by no less of an authority than Ty Cobb. "In 1910, Ed 'Kid' Foster was brought up by the old New York Highlanders but he couldn't make the grade and was sent down to Rochester, then managed by George Stallings," Cobb remembered in a 1953 Sporting News interview. "Under the tutelage of the future Miracle Manager, Foster learned the hit and run. He not only learned it, he mastered it. In 1912, Clark Griffith … bought Foster and Dan Moeller from Rochester and those two formed the most terrific hit and run combination I've ever seen.


His ability to place the ball with the bat was also well known and he was often compared to Wee Willie Keeler, the Hall of Famer famous for his "hit-em where they ain't" dictum. "He used to get the opposing infielders out of position and then push one through the gap they left open," said former teammate Joe Judge. "He could come pretty close to putting 'em in the exact spot he wanted."


Of course, there were those who would disagree. "Well, the kid who stops them at third for Griffith may be good at place hitting," said Bill Dahlen. "But when they compare him to Willie Keeler it is time to take the dope stick away from them." Whether Dahlen is right or wrong here can be argued, but you have to admire the colorful way in which he states his case!


Though it is true Foster never hit for a high average, he was tough to strikeout and it seems evident from players he played with and against that he could be counted on in the clutch and that he was a first class table setter from his spot batting second in the order.


Eddie Foster was born in Chicago on February 13, 1887, the oldest of three children. A bit of a wild child, it was during a stint in reform school that he learned the rudiments of the game. He signed his first professional contract with Coffeyville of the Kansas State League in 1905 when he was 18 years old and immediately began to attract favorable attention. "Let me tell you," remarked a Coffeyville birddog identified only as Stuart. " … I am sure one of my captives will be heard from some day. I refer to Eddie Foster, a shortstop. Foster is a small lad just now, but will fill out. He is a graduate of the Chicago City League and can play a game even now, which might do in the best of company. … fans voted that he alone was worth all of my trip north."


Eddie played at Coffeyville two seasons and was successful enough to capture the attention of the Philadelphia A's who signed him for the 1907 season. After a short look-see however, in which he never played a game for big club, he was sent down to Harrisburg of the Tri-State League for more seasoning. After spending the 1907 season there he was recalled once again by the Philadelphia club which then optioned him to Williamsport of the Tri-State.


It proved to be a fortuitous move, as the club won the championship in 1908 and Eddie contributed 43 stolen bases and solid play at shortstop to the effort. He was then drafted by Jersey City, where he played in 1909 and from there he made his way to the Highlanders and his major league debut in 1910.


His time was cut short in New York, ironically, by an errant fastball thrown by teammate Walter Johnson. Suffering a few fractured ribs from the famed Johnson heater, he missed numerous games and when he did return, he was unable to get tracked, finishing with an anemic .132 batting average. As a result he was farmed out of Rochester for the 1911 season.


Playing for Rochester in 1911, Foster came into his own. As the club finished in first place in the Eastern League, Eddie contributed a .288 batting average and swiped 37 bases while playing in 140 games at shortstop. Mike Kahoe, a Washington scout liked what he saw and, to contracts with the Nats for 1912.


The year 1912 was a big one for Washington baseball. After nearly a dozen years floundering mostly at the bottom of the American League, the club brought in former Cincinnati manager Clark Griffith to turn things around. He had a few solid veterans around which to build the club, most notably Clyde Milan, shortstop George McBride and the incomparable Walter Johnson. To these were added Chick Gandil at first base, Eddie Foster, who shifted to third, and Dan Moeller who took up the left field duties. To the surprise of everyone, the team finished in second place.


Foster played in every game and was lauded from the most powerful man in the American League at that time, league president Ban Johnson: "Foster is but one of several very fast players who have made great records in their first season's efforts. When every view of Foster's work is considered, I believe he is entitled to the honor of leading the list."


Eddie finished up the year batting .285 with 176 hits and stole 27 bases. By all accounts, his switch to third was a success and the fans loved him.


Eddie was struck with typhoid fever before the start of training camp in 1913 and while recuperating at Georgetown Hospital he met his future wife, Nancy Crismond. They were married in February, 1915 and settled in the Cherrydale section of Arlington.


In the next several years, "Kid" Foster established himself as Washington's steady third baseman and figured prominently in the successes of Clark Griffith's early years in the capital.


In 1917, in a game against the Browns, future Hall-of-Famer Eddie Plank was going for a no-hitter with two outs in the ninth inning. The 42-year-old pitcher walked a batter and then faced Foster who doubled the runner home and ruined Plank's bid.


During Eddie's stay in Washington, from 1912 through 1919, he played in 1120 games, stole 166 bases and scored 579 runs. He led the league in at-bats four times and was often among the leaders of the league defensively.


After leaving the Nation's Capital, Foster played for the Red Sox and Browns, but it was clear his best years were behind him and he finally hung up the spikes after a disappointing 1923 season. Some years before his retirement he had become a devoted Christian and he now entertained thoughts of becoming an evangelist in the Billy Sunday mold.


Apart from staying quite active in his church, however, his larger ambition never panned out. He bought out a partner he'd had in a welding shop in Georgetown and traded his ball mitt for a welding torch. Hawk Welding had for years a sign in its window, "We Weld Everything but a Broken Heart."

Eddie was approaching 50-year-old when on January 7, 1937 he was involved in an automobile accident on the then Washington-Baltimore Boulevard. It was thought at the time that he was struck by a hit and run driver as he dazedly walked toward shelter. He survived for a little over a week before passing away on January 15th. A deeply shocked Clark Griffith said, "Eddie was my particular pride as a third baseman. He was unquestionably one of the greatest of his time and his personality endeared him to all whom he met."


Over the years, Washington had other third basemen who are perhaps better remembered — Ossie Bluege, Eddie Yost — but though the memory of Eddie Foster has been dimmed by the passage of years, it cannot be denied that the little hit-and-run artist who held down the "hot corner" made his mark on Washington's baseball history.



— Tom Holster, former president of the Washington Baseball Historical Society

No comments:

Post a Comment