By Ernie Montella

 

I suppose you could say that it was the scripted “A’ on the players uniform I noticed as I handed the dealer $6 for that packet of musty looking newspaper clippings tucked into an equally tattered plastic bag. It was May 1998 and I was out of town at a sports memorabilia convention just browsing around hoping something would catch my eye. For some reason, out of thousands of collectibles in the room I was drawn to a bag of old newspaper clippings.

 

Later that evening as I sat in my motel room I began to leaf through the various miscut pieces of paper. At first I was sort of disappointed because the “A” I saw in the photo of the ballplayer was not that of a Philadelphia Athletics player but instead that of a minor leaguer whose mere name tells you he is a ball-player. The “A” was the logo of the minor league franchise Albany Senators. For a brief moment I thought that I had pulled a boner, that is until I became mystified with the historical and fascinating story about to unravel before my eyes.

 

Very briefly let me share with you the short saga of a man whose story belongs in Hollywood to make amends for all of the terrible movies they have produced about baseball over the years, the Saga of one “Alabama” Pitts.

 

 

On June 18, 1935 baseball commissioner Kennesaw Mountain Landis upheld an appeal that had been filed 12 days earlier by Johnny Evers, the General Manager of the Albany Senators minor league team in the International League and at that time an affiliate of the Washington Senators of the American League franchise.

 

The appeal involved a ban imposed by W.C. Bill Braham, president of the National Association of Professional Baseball, the governing body wherein Braham voided the contractual offer made to Pitts by the Albany team on the grounds that “Mr. Pitts’ association with professional baseball would in fact be detrimental to the game.”

 

Warren C. Giles, chairman of the executive committee of the National Association of Minor Professional Baseball Leagues at the time said the case would be reviewed by a committee of three men, one of which was Giles, who had the authority to overrule the Braham ban that denied ex-convicts the opportunity to play professional baseball. In its review the committee did not set aside the ban and Evers immediately appealed to the high commissioner of baseball stating that if Alabama Pitts was not permitted to play for Albany “he would quit baseball forever.”

 

In his reversal Commissioner Landis stated that “Mr.Pitts had paid his debt to society and SHOULD NOT be denied his ability to earn a livelihood through professional baseball.” (Shoeless Joe Jackson fans please take note.)

 

On the surface this appeared to be a compassionate and forgiving position taken by the commissioner when you take into consideration that Edwin “Alabama” Pitts (as he was better known) had just been paroled from Sing Sing prison only 12 days earlier after having served 5 years and 2 months of an 8-16 year sentence for a violation of the Sullivan Act during the commission of a 1929 armed robbery.

 

Commissioner Landis in his ruling further stated that “reputable people have expressed to me their belief that there has been a complete reformation of Pitts’ character, that the holdup for which Pitts was sentenced grew out of an escapade wherein Pitts was drunk and hungry.”

The irony of the appeal of Pitts, although known by many baseball historians, remains to this day a mystery as to why its importance to the Shoeless Joe Jackson incident has not been explored. Same game, same rules, same commissioner, but different result. Let us examine the facts.

 

In the fall of 1929, Pitts and 3 accomplices robbed a New York City chain store located at 113 Amsterdam Avenue that netted them a total of $76.25. After a quick 1930 trial, the 19 year old was sent to Sing Sing Prison, in Ossining, NY to serve out his 8-16 year sentence. From a copy of the official court record, Landis in his decision pointed out “that it was Pitts who held up the store with a “loaded revolver” and took $76.25 from the cash register and that Pitts’ accomplices were not older men and that they were unarmed.”

 

Edwin Collins Pitts was born in March 1910 in Opelika, Alabama. His father Edwin Sr, a U.S Army Calvaryman died just 5 months after Pitts was born. His mother, Erma later remarried and in order to avoid any confusion over references to Pitts or his dad she nicknamed him the “Alabama” Pitts. Little did she realize at the time that she had nicknamed a legend. Pitts did not participate in any intermural sports while in high school or any sandlot sports during his youth.

Upon entering prison he did show a natural ability for all sports including football, field events and baseball. Because of this new found ability he gained the favor of Sing Sing’s Warden Lewis E Lawes. It was Warden Lawes who later was responsible for obtaining Pitts’ parole and eventual contract offer from Johnny Evers of the Albany Senators franchise.

 

Pitts excelled on the prisons “Black Sheep” football team and was equally impressive whenever Evers brought his Albany Senators in to play Warden Lawes’ Sing Sing Zebra nine.

His celebrity among New York’s professional sports teams spread to the college levels. In particular, Columbia University’s Hall of Fame football coach Lou Little when asked about Pitts ability answered “I have seen him play I can assure you he is a 1st class football player. He has my recommendations.”

 

It was a common practice in those days for professional teams to schedule exhibition games with prisons. Connie Mack for many years scheduled his Philadelphia Athletics to do the same in the Philadelphia area, and on occasion in the early 1940’s while spring training in Anaheim, Ca. Mack’s Philadelphia Athletics played exhibition games with the inmates of San Quentin prison.

 

Pitts made his professional debut on June 23, 1935 before a howling crowd of 7752 fans present to watch the hometown Senators lose both ends of a doubleheader to the nearby Syracuse Chiefs. Pitts, sporting his favorite number #7, had a commendable day both at the plate and on the field.

 

Following his release from Sing Sing he received many offers from other cities including Bridgeport Ct., Schenectady NY., Philadelphia Pa., the New York Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers football teams. He refused to consider an offer from the famous House of David team of Benton Michigan because he would have to grow a beard.

 

 

 

 

 

Although his stay in professional baseball lasted only 5 years, his celebrity expanded to include a vaudeville act, a short stint with the Philadelphia Eagles of the NFL, marriage proposals from more than 35 eager females anxious to meet Sing Sing’s most talented athlete as he was labeled. Unfortunately his parole from prison turned out to be a death sentence as he enjoyed the final days of his “15 minutes of fame.”

 

On the evening of June 7, 1941 while at a road side tavern in Morgantown, N.C., Pitts was fatally stabbed by a jealous boyfriend as he watched Pitts dance with his girlfriend. The wound was not thought to be life threatening yet he died in the hospital while awaiting treatment. He was only 31 years old.

 

Does baseball owe Shoeless Joe Jackson an explanation for their inconsistency? In my opinion they do and apparently I’m not alone in that thinking. In November 1998 I shared the details of this story including copies of all of the newspaper clippings with baseball’s Commissioner Bud Selig. In his reply Mr. Selig thanked me for the research and indicated that he too was very sensitive to the Jackson situation that the Jackson file was under review.

 

Mr. Selig did note that the Jackson incident goes back 77 years (at that time). It’s ironic in that #7 was Pitts favorite uniform number. Sadly, Pitts passed away on the 7th day of the month. Unless there is more to the Shoeless Joe Jackson debacle that we have not been privileged too, in my humble opinion baseball owes Jackson an apology.

 

Somewhere buried in this saga of Alabama Pitts is a story waiting to be told. One that can erase some of the terrible but hilarious Hollywood attempts to portray our National pastime in an authentic light. Bob Costas well known sports commentator sites as one of his most memorable but unlikely scenes from a baseball movie is in the Babe Ruth Story where Ruth (actor William Bendix) while taking batting practice hits a puppy on the sidelines. He then scoops up the injured pup and along with the pup’s 8 year old owner grabs a cab to the nearest hospital and has immediate surgery performed that saves the youngsters pet. 20 years later this same doctor is called in to treat Ruth for throat cancer.

 

The Pitts story has all the makings of one of those 1930’s era movies, a young man caught in the midst of a depression is sent off to prison (Leonardo DiCaprio?) Gains the favor of the warden (Spencer Tracy?) Finds favor with the local minor league teams manager. This is where Hollywood would use William Frawley with his hat cocked over his ears and his belt up over his waist, remember the 1962 movie “Safe at Home”? Anyway, you get the picture. Maybe Hollywood will too.