Opening Day, 1907

By David Marasco

Opening Day is one of the best days of the season, but some have more excitement than others. Perhaps the wildest such game in Giants history was New York's home opener in 1907. A lot of work had to be done in order to get the Polo Grounds ready for play, "A force of laborers with wagons worked all day yesterday and cleaned away snow from the field." Bad weather limited the crowd to 17,000 but in the end they proved too much.

A marching band entertained the fans for an hour before the game, and then the Giants and the Phillies took the field. Here it was first noticed that John McGraw was not in attendance. He was sick at home. There was one other thing to note: catcher Roger Bresnahan was wearing shin guards. While baseball historians will point to earlier instances, Bresnahan was one of the first catchers to strap on this piece of "the tools of ignorance." Here is how the New York Times described the event: Bresnahan created somewhat of a sensation when he appeared behind the bat for the start of play, by donning cricket leg guards. As he displayed himself, togged in mask, protector, and guards, he presented no vulnerable surface for a wild ball to strike. The white shields were rather picturesque, in spite of their clumsiness, and the spectators rather fancied the innovation. Bresnahan would have a fine career for the Giants and was enshrined in to baseball's Hall of Fame. In the late 1980's a distant relative bearing the same name would be expelled from baseball as a result of the infamous "potato play."

The Giants warmed up both Red Ames and Iron Man McGinnity, but sent the latter to the mound. He was savaged by the Philadelphia hitters for 11 base knocks. The fact that he surrendered only a trio of runs is an indicator of both the Giant's defensive prowess and the lack of juice in the dead-ball era style of baseball. Frank Corridon has not joined McGinnity in the Hall of Fame, but on that day he was tossing a one-hitter at the Giants. His wildness lead to many baserunners, but none crossed the plate.

The seventh inning saw several fans cross the field to exit the park. Umpire Bill Klem drawn a loud series of boos when he stopped the game until the the fans finished leaving. At that point the crowd, which had been throwing snowballs throughout the game, realized that there were no policemen to enforce the law. After eight the Giants were down by the score of 3-0. When the Giants took the field for the top of the ninth most of the crowd standing behind the rope in right advanced on outfielder George Brown.

Earlier in the morning Police Commissioner Bingham decided to follow a little known law that prevented city police from patrolling private property. As a result, only two uniformed officers were in attendance. And they came with a stretcher. They would help anyone who needed to go to the hospital, but they insisted that their only duties were medical in nature.

Soon the whole show went to Hell in a handbasket. The people near home plate went out to share their opinions with Bill Klem. A huge seat cushion fight broke out in the grandstand. According to the New York Times, the cushion throwing was good-natured, so perhaps this can be chalked up as history's biggest pillow fight.

This went on for about fifteen minutes. Much of the crowd poured out onto the field and rubbed elbows with the Giants and Phillies. Finally the call went out to the police. The response? Four officers. They arrested a pair of men for disorderly conduct (cushion tossing).

Realizing that four policemen would not be able to restore order, Klem did the only reasonable thing. He forfeited the game to the Phillies. Since it was 1907, there was no way to announce this to the assembled crowd. The players caught on to what had happened and weaved their way through the crowd to their dressing rooms. After a while, the crowd dispersed on its own accord. It was the only Opening Day forfeit in baseball.