Paige and the Black Barons: Part 2

I’ve never been much into idolizing sports figures, but I made an exception for Satchel Paige. A Mobile native who spent the early part of his career with the Birmingham Black Barons, his exploits on the mound bordered on the unbelievable.

Pitching over four decades – going 112-60 with a 2.36 earned average in the Negro Leagues and 118-80 with a 2.70 ERA in the American League – no one ever did what he did so well for so long.

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I never saw him play, but I was always fascinated by arguably the greatest baseball pitcher of all-time. That being said, I don’t claim to be an expert on the man or the myth, although I thought I had a pretty good working knowledge of his story arc.

I was wrong.

Only recently did I stumble upon the fact that he not only got his start as a professional player during a four-year stint with the Black Barons, but actually managed the club for a very brief time. Well, he managed a club called the Black Barons, which is a pretty interesting story in itself.

On March 15, 1956, the Birmingham Post-Herald reported that Black Barons owner Floyd Meshad had, indeed, signed the ageless superstar in a dual role.

“We are pleased to have Paige handle the club,” Meshad told the newspaper. “We’re tickled to death to have him, the fans will like him, and he says he still has that old fastball for four or five innings.”
Paige was almost 50 when he returned to Birmingham following a career that had taken him from various Negro League clubs (now considered major league franchises) to the Cleveland Indians and St. Louis Browns of Major League Baseball.

By 1953 – his last season in MLB before signing for one game with the Kansas City Athletics in 1965 – Paige had been a World Series champion and eight-time All-Star.

In the Black Barons, he was taking over a club that was in its 38th season and claimed to be the oldest Negro League team in the United States in continuous operation. But after stints in the Negro Southern League, Negro National League and Negro American League, the 1956 Black Barons would play as independents.

And the 38th season claim is in dispute because the “old” Birmingham Barons had been purchased by Dr. Anderson K. Ross of Memphis in early March and renamed the Giants since Meshack had already copyrighted the name “Black Barons.” The original franchise had been taken away from Meshad earlier in the year at an owners meeting due to “league violations.”

Meshad said his club would face such traditional powers as the Indianapolis Clowns and New York Black Yankees. And they had secured Rickwood Field for the season, so the team would play in familiar surroundings.

“The opposition will be tougher than in the Negro American League,” Meshad said. “That league only has four teams now, including one they call the Birmingham Giants, which doesn’t even play here.”

The Black Barons lost to Mobile in its April 2 spring training opener at Rickwood, 10-8. And the team continued to play exhibitions in anticipation for the start of the regular season in May.

But on April 11 Meshad sold the team – and naming rights – to Ross.

“I’ve sold the franchise, equipment, good will, everything,” Meshack said.

Jim Canady, a former Birmingham player, was skipper of the renamed Giants, leaving Paige in limbo. So, the player/manager reportedly took a trip to Mobile on or around April 14 and by all accounts that ended his tenure with the Black Barons.

Canady was replaced by Horse Walker as Barons skipper on June 8, and the Black Barons finished third in the NAL standings.

As for Paige, well, by April 24 he was playing for Bill Veeck’s Miami Marlins in the International League. When the season was over he had compiled an 11-4 record, 1.86 Earned Run Average and struck out 79 batters in 111 innings pitched.

Obviously, he still had that old fastball.

A wild world of baseball

There must have been something in the water in the early 1970s – or at least something in international waters.

The World Hockey Association hit the ice in 1972, the World Football League took the field in July, 1974, and in April, 1974, the World Baseball Association announced its intention to make the National Pastime the Global Pastime.

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President and co-founder Sean Morton Downey Jr. (who would later become better known simply as Morton Downey Jr., a confrontational talk show host who helped pioneer trash TV) held a news conference in Washington, D.C., proclaiming the WBA was ready to challenge Major League Baseball. The WBA would feature 32 franchises with 16 in the United States and the other 16 scattered across Mexico, South America, Cuba, Japan, Taiwan and Canada. A 72 to 84-game regular season would begin in January, 1975.

“We’ll better the American and National League salaries, yet our players will have to play less than half the number of games the current major league teams expect of their players,” Downey said in an article published by Associated Press. “We anticipate longer player life, more offense In the game, less lengthy games and player participation in operation of the association.”

Downey stressed that this would be big league all the way, with the WBA going after 160 “front line” players.

It was revealed at the news conference that franchises had already been awarded to Columbus, Ohio; Jersey City, N. J.; Birmingham; Memphis; Tampa -St. Petersburg; and Mexico City. Each franchise cost $150,000 and two and a half percent of all gross revenues annually would go to the WBA, a “profit-making corporation that will direct all activities of the league, including hiring of ballplayers, coaches and managers and umpires.”

A manager/player draft was to be held in June.

“We have some substantial people, people with money, already involved,” WBA co-founder Wayne Nelson told the Miami News. “I can’t tell you who they are, but a couple of our people make (American Football League founder) Lamar Hunt look like a pauper.”

But it wouldn’t be a 1970s sports venture without some groovy rule innovations, and the WBA was gonna shake things up dramatically.

Some of the ideas included:

* Orange baseballs used for night games.

* Five designated hitters to replace five defensive players who remain in the game.

* One designated runner per game.

* Pitchers required to release a pitch within 20 seconds.

* Three balls instead of four for a walk.

* Two runs for stealing home after the sixth inning.

Shortly after the announcement Dick Williams, who managed the Oakland A’s to a pair of World Series titles, said he had been approached about becoming the new league’s commissioner.

“I’ve had three short conversations with those people,” Williams told AP. “I have no idea what the job would entail. I know of 70 players who have been contacted already. It’s got every chance to go. I think the WBA will put a lot of pressure on the rest of baseball.”

It certainly would’ve been entertaining to see this wildly reimagined version of baseball actually come to life. But for that to happen the WBA needed teams, and as the spring turned to summer and the summer turned to fall, it became apparent teams were hard to come by.

In June it was announced that Washington had joined the league, and Downey Jr. expected to name six flagship franchises by September 10 and two more by December 10. He said the WBA would likely start with 10 to 14 American clubs for the first year.

January, 1975, came and went without the WBA, and little was heard from the fledgling league until late November when new president Marvin Adelson told AP it would have a “sneak preview” with a six-game winter exhibition series in Cuba. The tournament would feature a “team representative of the World Baseball Association against clubs representing various provinces of Cuba and the national championship team, Santiago de Cuba.”

Adelson said the delay in launching a full season was simply a case of smart business.

“We’re really being tough on people who want franchises,” he said. “We can’t afford the bad publicity the World Football League got. That’s the reason it’s taken so long. You’ve got to be prepared to lose money – big money. We want to go slow and easy and be on solid ground.”

Adelson said five franchises had been sold in North America, but he declined to give names or locations. He added that five more franchises had been awarded to cities in Japan, two in the Dominican Republic, two in Puerto Rico and one in Manila.

As for the international tournament, well, it was never played.

In September, 1975, the WBA released a statement saying that a United States team would face a Japanese team in Honolulu and Tokyo, which would be the first actual game associated with the league.

That was never played, either.

And by December of 1976, Adelson had abandoned his role as WBA president in order to buy the Triple A Pawtucket Red Sox. He also hoped to own an MLB club within five years.

Thus, the World Baseball Association joined the increasingly long list of professional sports ventures that never made it past the idea stage. And as for the other 1970s leagues with “World” in their names, their worlds ceased to exist before the decade came to a close.

Glorious Rickwood Field

Editor’s note: This story originally ran on April 2, 2022.

When I walked into Rickwood Field on Wednesday to watch the inaugural Rickwood College Classic baseball game between UAB and Birmingham-Southern, it marked the first time I’d been to “America’s Oldest Baseball Park” since June 4, 1998. That was the third year of the Rickwood Classic, an annual throwback game contested between the Birmingham Barons and another Southern League opponent.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

A quick bit of research shows that in this particular clash the Greenville Braves defeated the Barons, 12-8, before 6,873 fans.

That I didn’t remember.

What I do recall is that it was brutally hot that day, made even worse by the fact that I was wearing a heavy, old school New York Yankees baseball jersey (fans were invited to wear “turn back the clock” attire and the Barons had once been a Yankees farm club so, you know, I was trying to dress the part).

The uncomfortable heat, however, was no match for how cool it was to be inside this working museum.

It opened in 1910, so obviously it’s rich in sports history. And since Major League Baseball finally righted a wrong in 2020 and gave the Negro Leagues big league status, Rickwood Field is a major league park thanks to the Birmingham Black Barons (who started playing there in 1920).

That makes it even more exciting to claim the venue as a huge part of my history.

Fun fact: my first trip to Rickwood wasn’t as a spectator, but as a player. A member of the L.M. Smith School Cougars 70-pound football team, I was part of the squad that played a team called the Browns there in September of 1971. It wasn’t the Cleveland Browns, of course – that would’ve been a bloodbath – but rather some kids who wore orange helmets and white jerseys. When you think about it, they probably should’ve been called the Oranges.

Anyway, I was a scrub on that team (it would be a couple of years before I transformed from a scrappy young athlete with limited skills to a scrappy older athlete with limited skills) so my only playing time was on kicking teams. I never made a block or tackle, but I did inhale a lot of dust because our field was lined off on the infield, which had most recently been used by the Birmingham A’s.

And that leads me to my first visit as a spectator – although I didn’t get to actually see a game.

On May 15, 1975, the defending World Series champion Oakland A’s were slated to play their Southern League farm club at Rickwood, which was to be the first time I had ever watched a live game involving a major or minor league team. But lightning knocked out a bank of lights at the stadium, and inclement weather prevented the game from being played.

But, I got second baseman Phil Garner’s autograph, watched Reggie Jackson and Billy Williams take BP, and saw Vida Blue throw some pitches, so it was hardly a wasted trip.

On the drive home I mentioned to my dad how neat it was that I had played on the same field as those guys. When he told me it was also the former home of legends such as Willie Mays and Satchel Paige and had hosted everyone from Babe Ruth to Dizzy Dean, well, I felt downright special.

And why not? You should feel special at a place that’s always been a special place for you.

I saw UAB beat Alabama, 12-2, there on April 29, 1980, which was the first college baseball game I ever attended.

I watched the St. Louis Cardinals beat UAB, 7-2, in an exhibition on April 8, 1981, and was almost hit by Keith Hernandez’s two-run homer while perched in the right field stands. Fortunately, my flaming speed allowed me to run away while the ball banged against the aluminum seating a couple of times before being snatched by a youngster.

I was in the house on April 14, 1981, when the Barons were reborn after relocating from Montgomery; shook hands with the San Diego Chicken, aka Ted Giannoulas, after crashing into him while making a beer run during the Barons’ 1983 championship season; and even hung around for a post-game Beach Boys concert after meeting a young woman at a game, even though I have never at any point in my existence been a fan of the Beach Boys.

It all came back to me during the Classic. I watched it with good friend and BirminghamProSports.com guru Gene Crowley, who does a better job chronicling Magic City sports history than anyone. I even got to reconnect with another old buddy, Joe DeLeonard, who – along with the rest of the members of the Friends of Rickwood organization – helps keep this baseball cathedral up and running.

Gene indulged me as we walked through the facility and I pointed to seating areas I’d occupied and told tales of the good old days.

And the good old days at Rickwood always seemed great to me.

With UAB safely in front (the Blazers won, 10-4, jumping out to a 5-0 lead in the first inning), we wrapped up our visit at the on-site museum and gift shop. I got an up-close look at memorabilia from 42, Soul of the Game, and Cobb, movies which were filmed at Rickwood Field, and eyed some old seats from New York’s Polo Grounds, which were bought in 1964 and reused at the Birmingham stadium.

And even though a T-Shirt is the last thing I need, I snagged one with the Birmingham A’s logo and the phrase: “Rickwood Field 1967-1975.”

I think of it as a memento from the first baseball game I almost saw there.

I would’ve bought one that reads: “Cougars vs. Browns 70-Pound Football Game 1971,” but none were available.

I’m gonna pretend they were sold out of those.

For more information about Rickwood Field, go to rickwood.com.