The Ultimate Yankee Book: From the Beginning to Today: Trivia, Facts and Stats, Oral History, Marker Moments and Legendary Personalities—A History and Reference Book About Baseball’s Greatest Franchise

One

OWNERS AND PLAYING FIELDS

From Farrell and Devery and Hilltop Park to the Steinbrenners and New Yankee Stadium

•   William Stephen Devery and Frank J. Farrell

•   Tillinghast L’Hommedieu Huston and Col. Jacob Ruppert

•   Jacob Ruppert Estate

•   Daniel Topping, Del Webb and Larry MacPhail

•   CBS

•   George Steinbrenner

•   Hal Steinbrenner and Hank Steinbrenner

All kinds of personalities have had their turn owning the New York Yankees, and all with a few exceptions have been the better for it. This chapter is a survey of those men—some legendary, some ordinary. Then there are the playing fields; interestingly enough, there have been very few of them that the Yankees have played on in their long history.

It has been estimated that more people have dreamed of owning the New York Yankees than any other franchise in sports. George Steinbrenner declared: It’s like owning the Mona Lisa, you never want to sell it. Dan Topping said: I’m going to buy the Yankees. I don’t know what I’m going to pay for them, but I’m going to buy them.

Incredibly, even though the franchise has been around for such a long time, the number of people who have been principal owners is very few. And of that select group, a couple of very long tenures characterize that ownership. Two dozen years for Colonel Jacob Ruppert and a whopping 35 years for George Steinbrenner and by extension to the Steinbrenner family—almost 45 years.

On the whole, dedicated, intelligent, involved and interested individuals have held the power and the purse strings of the New York Yankees, arguably the most legendary and successful of all sports teams ever. All have come from different backgrounds, with very different personalities, and owned with different styles. What follows is a primer on ultimate baseball power—a look at those who have been fortunate enough to be the owners of the New York Yankees and the ball fields their teams have played on.

Ownership matters. It certainly has mattered when talking Yankees.

WILLIAM STEPHEN DEVERY AND FRANK J. FARRELL, 1903 TO 1913

Known as the Baltimore Orioles during the 1901 and 1902 seasons, the franchise went out of business and left their American League brethren much distressed. Ban Johnson, American League president, sought balm for the wound—new ownership for the franchise and relocation to the major market of New York City.

Despite his energetic efforts, no takers surfaced as the 1903 season loomed. Enter William Stephen Devery, a former New York City police commissioner, and Frank J. Farrell, a professional gambler. The duo was the last and least of choices as owners.

A former bartender and prizefighter, Big Bill Devery made a lot of money from shrewd real estate investments that he oversaw from his estate in Far Rockaway, Queens. He also did quite well, it was said, from graft, corruption and his affiliation with the New York City Police Department. He moved up the ranks and wound up being the first police chief. Along the way, when he was a police captain, he allegedly told his men: They tell me there’s a lot of grafting going on in this precinct. They tell me that you fellows are the fiercest ever on graft. Now that’s going to stop! If there’s any grafting to be done, I’ll do it. Leave it to me. The word was correct that he was skilled in the art and science of collecting honest graft in saloons, brothels, betting parlors, gambling dens and dance halls. Protection was a big part of the daily work of those under him.

A scorecard from 1903, the year Devery and Farrell bought the Baltimore franchise.

Stock certificate for the new New York American Baseball Club, $100.

The other half of the ownership duo was Frank J. Farrell, who was immersed in the New York City gambling world, owning pool halls and a casino. He was called the Pool Room King because he controlled over 250 pool halls or gambling dens, most of them located in lower Manhattan. The short and stocky Farrell shared a love of baseball with his Tammany Hall cohorts.

Devery and Farrell were friends, and they made millions through their assorted and sordid ventures and services to Tammany Hall. A news account of that time described one of them this way:

Mr. Frank Farrell is a gambler, the chief gambler of New York City, we suppose. The business to which he owes his bad eminence, and in which he gains his living is carried out in violation of the law. His gambling places have enjoyed the protection of the law [because] he is an intimate, personal friend of Mr. W. S. Devery, the Deputy Police Commissioner of New York.

Suppressing his misgivings about Farrell and Devery, Ban Johnson, founder of the American League, allowed the pair to purchase the Baltimore franchise for $18,000 on January 9, 1903. With the sale, the new owners were expected to move the team to New York City and build a new ball field for it.

On the twelfth day of March, 1903, Johnson presided over a press conference announcing that New York City would have a new team in his American League. Owners Frank J. Farrell and William S. Devery were not identified as the new owners; surprisingly, they were not even present. In Albany, a few days later, incorporation of the team took place. Again, Frank J. Farrell and William S. Devery were not part of the program.

It was no wonder Ban Johnson chose to keep the twosome in the background when and while he could. It was crystal clear they were not the types he sought as owners. But something was better than nothing, and Johnson had not been overwhelmed with ownership offers.

A property tract in the Washington Heights section of upper Manhattan owned by the New York Institute for the Blind, situated between 165th and 168th Streets and Fort Washington Avenue and Broadway, was chosen as the site for the new ballpark to house the new team. It was located ten blocks north of the Polo Grounds, the home field of the New York Giants.

Over $200,000 was spent excavating the rocky site that the park was being built on. It was said that 12,000 cubic yards of rock were pulled out of the ground at a cost of $15,000. Construction had to be a rush job, and it was. The ballpark was far from ready for the team’s inaugural season of 1903. A swampy area in right field was in need of rock fill. There was very little grass in the outfield. The planned grandstand was still incomplete. The clubhouse needed a lot of work. Players wound up dressing at their hotel rooms.

Mediocre at best was the politest way to characterize the entire playing surface and structure. The ballpark was initially called American League Park, but its name was changed to Hilltop Park because it was located at one of the highest points in Manhattan. The new playing field featured a grandstand and bleachers that held close to 16,000 fans. Hundreds more would be allowed to stand just outside the first and third base foul lines, or several men deep behind the outfielders.

Joseph Gordon was appointed the team’s first president by Farrell and Devery. He was there to add a badly needed touch of class and legitimacy to the whole operation. A former coal-mining executive, Gordon was genial and also a former state assemblyman. He had at one time been on the corporate board of the New York Giants. He was well connected.

Gordon was the one who suggested the team be called Highlanders because of the high land it would play on. It was said Gordon was also influenced by a crack British regiment named Highlander that was touring the United States at the time. Their commander, no relation, was also named Gordon.

In addition to Highlander, other printable names the team was called included Hill Dwellers, Porch Climbers, Burglars, Cliffmen, Hilltoppers, New Yorkers, Invaders and Americans. The favorite of the press in New York City was Yanks or Yankees.

When Hilltop Park was finally completed, a single-tier wooden covered grandstand extended from the third base dugout to home plate and around to the first base dugout. Uncovered grandstands spread out to both foul poles. There was very little parking space until 1906, when lots were set up inside the grounds behind the grandstand for carriages and cars.

The hastily put together wooden ballpark took six weeks to be constructed on the roughly cleared site. On April 30, 1903, the first home game of the Greater New York Base Ball Club of the American League took place: Highlanders versus Washington Senators. Each of the 16,243 in attendance that pleasant Opening Day of the brand-new American League franchise was given a small American flag.

Many entered Hilltop Park through its main entrance that faced Broadway. A seat in the single deck-covered wooden grandstand that extended from first base to third base cost 50 cents. Bleacher seats were 75 cents, box seats a dollar. Fans who sat behind home plate could see the Hudson River and the New Jersey Palisades. Ban Johnson was at the ballpark for the first pitch, seated next to Devery in a front row box very close to the Highlanders bench. Johnson had seen to it that the team’s roster had bragging rights to some high-level talent—future Hall of Fame outfielder Willie Keeler, first-rate infielder Wid Conroy and a pitching staff anchored by standouts Jack Chesbro and Jesse Tannehill. Guiding the team would be astute pitcher-manager Clark Griffith.

Hilltop Park ticket stub, 1903, when bleacher seats were 75 cents.

With a playing field surface of dirt on rock, or dirt on dirt, the ballpark featured an unappealing hollow in right field that was roped off. A player hitting a ball past the ropes was awarded a double. In June of that first season, a fence was placed in front of the hollow. A ball hit over the fence would be awarded a home run. The dimensions were vast: left field was 365 feet from home plate, center field was an enormous 542 feet and right field was 400 feet.

At 3 p.m., both teams marched from the outfield to home plate and stood at attention as the 69th Regiment band played the Washington Post March and then the Star Spangled Banner. Ban Johnson threw out the first ball and the first game in Highlanders (Yankee) history began. Jack Chesbro was the winning pitcher as the Highlanders beat Washington, 6–2. The franchise’s first home game was in the history books.

A pocket schedule from 1903, the year Hilltop Park was completed.

That first season the Highlanders finished in fourth place (7–2), 17 games out of first. It was not a bad beginning for the new team in town; however, problems were evident. Attendance was a disappointment, and the New York Giants of the established National League were fan favorites.

We made money, Gordon insisted. Not a lot, but enough to know that our investment is a good one and that next year we will do better. The Highlanders’ home attendance of 211,808, however, was only half the 422,473 drawn by its nearest geographic American League competition in Philadelphia, which outpaced the league in attendance.

The 1904 season was better for Farrell, Devery, Gordon and their team. Paced by Jack Chesbro’s century-best 41 wins, the Highlanders matched up against Boston for the American League pennant. An ill-thrown Chesbro spitball gave the pennant to Boston. Nevertheless, there was excitement aplenty in Highlander world. Attendance surged that season to 438,919, double that of the previous year. Not one to shirk publicity and attention, Farrell made sure their standing in the sport grew. Most press coverage of the Highlanders routinely identified him as the owner of the team.

There were good days and bad days and many muddling along days for the Highlanders up to the 1908 season, a season that was a disaster for them; they suffered through 103 losses in a 154-game schedule.

For 1909, Bill Devery, hoping to change the team’s fortune and image, changed the Highlander logo. He adopted a NY insignia that was on a medal of honor for policemen shot in the line of duty. The new interlocking NY would go on to become the most recognizable logo in all of sports. In the first year the NY appeared on the uniform, the team improved to a 74–77 record.

Yankee owner Frank Farrell, bottom center, looking at the camera, in his box seat at the Polo Grounds, c. 1903.

As the 1912 season was set to begin, the relationship between Big Bill Devery and Frank Farrell was at an ending point. Over their years together, they had grown to hate each other. And their team’s failures on the baseball field were just part of the problem. No longer on speaking terms, and no longer consulting each other on baseball decisions, Farrell spread the word that he was seeking a buyer for Devery’s share of the Yankees.

The 1912 season was a disaster. The Yankees finished in last place, losing 102 games, winning 50. Not one pitcher had a winning record. Attendance was subpar—just 242,194 paid admissions, less than half the total that had been at Hilltop Park just three seasons before. However, another home uniform design change was in place that season: a touch of pinstripes foreshadowing the future was now standard fare.

That 1912 season was also the last one of the ten-year-lease on Hilltop Park. The Institute for the Blind was not willing to extend it. Farrell and Devery had some frantic moments. However, it all worked out … sort of.

Farrell promised that his team’s stay at the Polo Grounds would be brief—only until a new ballpark at Kingsbridge Road was completed. He promised June 1, 1913, would be the date. Unfortunately, his promises, like many others he had made through the years, did not come true. The Yankees played all their home games of 1913 at the Polo Grounds.

They also played all of their games in 1914 at the Polo Grounds, winning 70 games, losing 84 games, and finishing in sixth place. Attendance was 359,477. The season was a microcosm of their ownership.

For the unsavory Farrell and even more unsavory Devery, success was a sometimes thing. Under their watch, their team’s total won-lost record was 861–937. The two owners took all the profits they could. They plowed nothing back into the team. Mismanagement was always on parade.

The overall lack of success on the field, the disappointments at the gate and the failures that forced them to close other business operations drained and diminished Farrell and Devery. Their run was over. The word on the street was that they were obliged to sell. Lengthy meetings and negotiations for the purchase of the Yankees got underway. Farrell’s asking price for the franchise was $500,000.

The American League president was all in as a broker. All kinds of back and forthing involved Tammany Hall types, other baseball team owners and the American League office. The paramount issue for all of them was the need to replace the Yankee ownership with new and stable people and ensure a successful team in New York City.

On January 11, 1915, Farrell and Devery sold the team to Tillinghast L’Hommedieu Huston and Jacob Ruppert for $460,000. Nineteen days later the official transfer took place. The sellers received twenty-five times more than what they had originally paid for the franchise.

Devery would live on for five more years. Farrell would die in 1926.

TILLINGHAST L’HOMMEDIEU HUSTON, 1915 TO 1922, AND COL. JACOB RUPPERT, 1915 TO 1939

I never saw such a mixed-up business in my life, Col. Jake Ruppert complained right off the bat. Contracts, liabilities, notes, obligations of all sorts. There were times when it looked so bad no man would want to put a penny into it. It was an orphan club without a home of its own, without players of outstanding ability, without prestige.

It was a team whose average annual attendance was 345,000. Subpar seasons at the gate and on the field were a way of life. But Jake Ruppert, the man they would later call the Master Builder in Baseball, would change all that.

A friend of Ruppert, Tillinghast L’Hommedieu Huston was a big-bodied, self-made man who began his working career as a civil engineer in Cincinnati. He was a captain during the Spanish-American War and went on to make a fortune bringing the sewerage system and harbor of Cuba into the modern age. He was called Cap or the Man in the Iron Hat because of his derby hat, which was generally crumpled. The hat matched his suits, always crumpled and rumpled.

Ruppert, on the other hand, was born into wealth and an heir to millions. The son and grandson of beer tycoons who founded the Ruppert breweries, he was an aristocrat all the way. He inherited the brewing company Knickerbocker Beer from his father and became president of the business in 1915, the same year he purchased the Yankees. He was also president of Astoria Silk Works. His personal fortune was estimated at $50 million.

A serious-looking Tillinghast L’Hommedieu Huston, one of the first owners of the New York Yankees and one of the great baseball names.

In the beginning of his ownership time, Ruppert, the Prince of Beer, wanted to rename the Yankees Knickerbockers after his best-selling beer. The marketing ploy failed. He could not get approvals from the American League. Additionally, it was said, the name was too long for newspaper headlines. Years later it would be short enough for basketball’s New York Knickerbockers.

The challenge to turn around the Yankees was enormous, but both new owners were more than up to the challenge. They had deep pockets, a great deal of business acumen and many important connections. And both were beguiled by baseball and making money.

Early on, Ruppert lost almost as much money as was paid to purchase the Yankees. But the team gradually improved on the playing field, finishing fifth in 1915 and fourth in 1916, its first time out of the second division since 1910.

As a beer baron, Ruppert was hands-on for every aspect of his business. That same behavior pattern transferred over for him and the New York Yankees. He had a personal and deep interest in each player. He knew them all and was always up-to-date on their capabilities, shortcomings, foibles and performances. However, the Yankee owner rarely hung out with the boys, Rud Rennie wrote in the New York Herald-Tribune. For the most part, he was aloof and brusque…. He never used profanity. ‘By gad’ was his only expletive.

The Colonel’s idea of a wonderful day at the ballpark was any time the Yankees scored 11 runs in the first inning, and then slowly pulled away. Close games make me nervous, he said. The Colonel was also fond of saying, There is no charity in baseball, and I want to win every year. With that goal in mind, he went on to create what became known as the Ruppert effect. Members of his team received first class treatment. For the Yankees, this especially showed itself in the sleeping accommodations he arranged on trains. Most other teams gave players berths, upper or lower, dependent on seniority. The players on the New York Yankees all slept in upper berths. The whole traveling operation generally took up two cars at the end of the train. And there was many a summer day that players, wearing only underwear, lounged about, engaging in long conversations, playing cards and enjoying each other’s company and the food; rest and recreation made them perform better on the playing field.

In 1919, now hitting his stride as the driving force behind the New York Yankees, Jacob Ruppert made arguably the best purchase in baseball history. He acquired George Herman Babe Ruth from the Red Sox. That deal transformed the Yankees into the first great dynasty in American sports. With the Babe in pinstripes, the Ruppert Rifles, as some called them, would win seven World Series championships and 10 pennants during an 18-year span.

The Colonel bragged, They’re coming out to see me in droves. From 1920 to 1922, the Yankees, with G. H. Ruth on board, drew more than three million fans into the Polo Grounds. The New York Giants had never drawn a million fans in a season. Astonished, angered and annoyed at the great success of Babe Ruth and Company, the Giants informed the Yankees that they were no longer welcome as tenants at the Polo Grounds and should look around for other baseball lodgings.

The Yankees had been playing in the shadow of the Giants at the Polo Grounds since 1913. Now all the glamour and glitz, the power and pop, had moved over to the Yankees. With Ruppert’s team outdrawing the Giants in their own ballpark, it was an embarrassment to the proud National League franchise.

Ruppert and Huston’s first reaction was a suggestion to the New York Giants that the Polo Grounds be demolished and replaced by a 100,000-seat stadium. It was a visionary idea. The new playing field then could be used by both teams and also host other sporting events. The Giants, however, were not interested. They were not even interested in collecting the $65,000 in annual rent from the Yankees. They were only interested in seeing the end of the American League team in their ballpark as unwelcome tenants.

So Ruppert and Huston began the adventure of creating a new and novel ballpark, the greatest and grandest edifice of its time, one to be shaped along the lines of the Roman Coliseum. The Yankee Stadium, as it was called at the start, was envisioned as a structure that exuded a feeling of permanence lacking in many big league parks. Unlike the builders of older ballparks, the Yankee owners would not fit their fields of play into the contours and configurations of city streets. They planned to place their structure on open land.

One idea was to build a stadium or an amphitheater over the Pennsylvania Railroad tracks along the West Side near 32nd Street. The War Department nixed the idea because that space was reserved for anti-aircraft gun emplacements. The Hebrew Orphan Asylum, at Amsterdam Avenue and 137th Street, was a serious contender for the new ballpark site. A contract was actually drawn up, but the deal fell through. A lot in Long Island City in Queens was also given some consideration. Nothing happened.

Finally, Ruppert and Huston settled on a former lumberyard in the west Bronx, City Plot 2106, Lot 100, a 10-acre mess of boulders and garbage. The cost for the land obtained from William Waldorf Astor’s estate was $675,000. It was located directly across the Harlem River from Coogan’s Bluff and the Polo Grounds. That was one of the major reasons Ruppert chose that site, knowing how it would irritate his former landlord. Another plus was that the IRT Jerome Avenue subway line snaked its way virtually atop the stadium’s right-field wall, providing ease of transportation for