Ed Barrow
Perhaps the best story about Ed Barrow in 1918 comes from pitcher Sam Jones, who was, he admitted, a bit brash as a young player. During the season, Jones was playing checkers in the clubhouse, when the batboy told Jones that Barrow wanted him outside for a photo. Jones ignored the request and, as he told interviewer Lawrence Ritter:
“In comes Mr. Barrow himself. As you might know, he was a pretty rough talker. Huge man, with these fantastic bushy eyebrows. They always fascinated me. Couldn’t take my eyes off them. Well, he gave me a good going over for sitting in the clubhouse playing checkers when he’d asked for me outside. …
“‘This newspaper photographer came all the way from Providence to take your picture,’
Portrait of Ed Barrow in 1918. (Photo courtesy of the Boston Public Library.)he says.
“‘Is that so?’ I said. ‘Well, he can go all the way back to Providence without it.’
“Oh, did that get him! … I thought he was going to take a sock at me. He’d been known to do that on occasion, you know. ‘This will cost you $100,’ he shouts. His face was so red he could hardly talk. And you should have seen those eyebrows!
“‘Make it $200,’ I said, still sitting there.
“‘It’s $200 all right.’
“‘Make it $300,’ I said, ‘and then go straight to hell.’
“‘It’s $300,’ he roars, and slams the door.
“Finally, I went out on the field and the photographer posed me and Mr. Barrow together. Arms around each other’s shoulders, both smiling, best friends ever. But as soon as the shutter clicked we both walked real fast in opposite directions.”
Barrow was a rough talker and a believer in stern discipline. But he was better known as an executive, not really an on-field manager—in fact, at a time when managers usually wore uniforms, Barrow always wore a suit. He had been the head of the International League until the winter before the 1918 season, when the league attempted to cut his pay from $7,500 to $2,500. In part thanks to his friend Ban Johnson, the American League president, it was agreed in a backroom deal that Barrow would land a spot with the Red Sox, most likely as secretary. Team owner Harry Frazee didn’t much want to make personnel moves anymore, and wanted an experienced hand at the job. Barrow seemed a good fit.
When the Red Sox were unable to find a manager, though, Frazee instead decided to simply make Barrow the manager, knowing it was a temporary arrangement. Former manager Jack Barry—who was doing a stint in a local naval yard—could come back after the war. Barrow had only two years of managerial experience, when he ran the Tigers in 1903 and ’04, and both were miserable seasons.
Barrow leaned heavily on veteran players Harry Hooper and Everett Scott, as well as coach Heinie Wagner, for in-game strategy. Barrow focused on discipline. In spring training that year, Barrow imposed strong rules. No wives. No poker wagers bigger than 10 cents, and all games were to end by 11 p.m. Wake-up call: 8:30, and no one was to be in the breakfast room past 9:30. The team would practice straight through the afternoon, with no lunch. It was two miles between the hotel and the stadium. Players were required to walk or run the two miles each day. These were pretty restrictive regulations for a ball club in training, but Barrow wanted to establish discipline.
Barrow had disciplinary challenges throughout the 1918 season, though, and none was bigger than Babe Ruth. He and Barrow just could not get along. At one point in July, Ruth was so fed up with Barrow that he quit and went back home to Baltimore. Ruth was coaxed back to the team, but his relationship with Barrow remained dodgy, at best.
Barrow did handle the strategy side of things quite nicely when the 1918 World Series came around. The Cubs were using an all-lefty rotation in an attempt to keep the bat of Ruth, a lefty, out of the lineup. Rather than give in to the temptation to bat Ruth against lefties anyway, Barrow stuck with journeyman outfielder George Whiteman, who had been signed by Barrow for $750 that spring. Whiteman wound up being the star against the Cubs, and the Red Sox won the series.
Barrow stayed on as Boston’s manager for two more years, but when the owners of the Yankees asked him to run the team’s front office, in what was essentially a general manager’s role, Barrow left. He would remain the Yankees’ top executive from 1921-45.
