Sport: Home from the Field

Let the sawed-off, hammered-down, pint-flask-size men of the world hold their heads in pride high above their inches today. A new Napoleon has arisen to the height of five feet seven to lead the bantam brigade.

—Damon Runyon, Oct. 7, 1919

Runyon's sawed-off Napoleon was a wiry Chicago southpaw pitcher named Dickie Kerr who had just won his second game for the White Sox in baseball's most embarrassing World Series. Behind him, some of the best players in the history of the game had played like bushers. Shoeless Joe Jackson, perhaps the greatest outfielder of them all, was unaccountably awkward under easy flies;...

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