The Year Chicago Died

[CatKnight]

March 10, 1928
Chicago, Illinois


There are a thousand stories in the city, chum. As for mine, it really began on a windy night in early spring. The street lamps flickered as I walked home from the office, a paper sack with tonight's dinner crammed into my coat pocket. I remember it kept flapping in the wind, and I had to cram my fedora low over my brows to keep it from blowing away.

"HELP!"

I looked ahead of me to see a copper walking his beat - about thirty I'd say, and probably enjoying his pastries a bit much if you get my drift. He heard the cry too, for he trotted back towards me and ducked into an alley. I clearly heard his challenge, then an indistinct, shouted reply.

A moment later the cop backed out, staring at whoever shouted, He glanced at me, then hurried away as if nothing was amiss.

God, I hate Chicago.

"Help!"

Nor am I too fond of myself for being such a sap. Fine.

I hurried down the street, and now I could hear grunts and the unmistakable thud of fist on flesh. I rounded the corner to find two bravos roughing up an older man. One threw him against the brick facade, and the other slugged him in the stomach. He snarled something and the victim, sobbing and with blood on his lips, nodded.

Have I mentioned I hate Chicago?

Now listen, chum! If you ever feel the need to play hero, never, ever announce yourself. That's how they do it in the dime novels maybe, but when every two bit hood is carrying a heater that's a good way to get bumped off. I charged.

The first saw me just long enough to yell "Scram" before my fist found his face. He fell to the ground as his partner drew his knife, which unfolded with a sharp click. I elbowed him in the nose, then back to # 1. He managed to get his fists up to block my next blow, like a boxer, so I grabbed him whole in a hug and spun him about into his partner.

He bellowed as the knife struck below his ribs in the back, probably hitting his kidneys. He fell, taking the weapon with him. I stepped around the growing pool of blood to get the last one, but he turned and ran.

Now it was the hood's turn to beg for help, but even if I was of a mind to do something I don't know anything about treating a wound. Anyway, I wasn't of a mind and after a minute or so of writhing and gasping he lay still.

"You alright, pops?" I lifted the older man to his feet, who thrashed and struggled as if possessed. "Easy! Easy!"

He stilled and looked down at the body as I hurried him away. "You killed him!"

I could argue semantics, but why? "He would've killed you, pops." I wasn't sure he hadn't: The man I'd rescued hugged his ribs and drew shuddering breaths. "Come on. Let's find a doctor."

He shook his head and managed to smile. "Already have one." He managed to straighten slightly and regarded me with cool blue eyes. "Thank you."

"No harm, pops." Though there could have been, and hopefully he'd realize that. You can't really go around asking for rewards, but business hasn't been good. I'm behind on my office rent, and my secretary's ready to quit. "Name's Catrett."

"My name is Veeck." He smiled again. "I think I may be in a position to do you a kindness, Mister Catrett. If you'll give me your arm, I know of a cafe where we can talk."
*******

William Veeck (Sr.), it seems, is president of the Northsiders... the Cubs for those of you out-of-towners. And his assailants?

"The one you killed works...worked for me, but he must have been bought. The other would have to be one of Bugs Moran's boys."

Well, isn't that the cat's meow? George Clarence "Bugs" Moran is the leader of the North Side Gang, and probably the most powerful man in Chicago. No wonder the cop didn't interfere.

"Bugs wants what he calls a 'rental fee' for Wrigley Field being in his territory. I know Bill Wrigley would never go for that, so I said no. That was two days ago." Veeck sipped at his coffee. It seemed to help his aching ribs, for he no longer held them close. Perhaps he'd only been bruised. "Alan, the one you...my assistant. He followed me home and kept demanding I give in." Veeck shuddered at the memory of his beating. "What do you do?" he asked abruptly.

"After the war I set up as a detective, then hired out as a big six for anyone who needed a little muscle. I could probably fit you in if you can afford me." All this was true: I did try being a detective, but I'm not so good at observation and deduction. Protection and intimidation I'm better at, but let's say I'm not the most chummy person in this world. Not good when the only ones who can pay enough to make my 'protecting' worthwhile are not used to their guards speaking their minds. The Outfit - one of Capone's boys - hinted I could be in with them if I wanted, but I'm not getting into the middle of a gang war. As for Veeck affording me...

"I can do better than that," Veeck replied. "I want to hire you on with the Cubs - a permanent retainer if you will."

My eyebrows rose. "As protection?"

"Some of the teams are experimenting with a business, or 'general' manager to take care of behind the scenes affairs like trading and contracts. I'd like you to take over in that role, with my assistance of course."

"So you want me to be your mouthpiece." I grimaced. Not that there's anything wrong with that kind of work, really, but if I was going to pretend to have this kind of power I'd really like to have it for real. Then again, what do I know about baseball behind the scenes?

"At first, I suppose. I'll be showing you what I know, though, and eventually you'll make the decisions for yourself. It would be a great help to me, as well as..." He hesitated.

"Keep you out of Bugs' sights?" I offered.

He smiled. "Perhaps."

"Mister...Veeck. This is very generous of you, but you don't know me. How do you know I'm not one of Bugs' boys? Or Capone's?"

"If you were with Moran, you wouldn't have saved me," Veeck replied. "As for the Outfit, so far they've shown no interest in the Cubs. We're not really on their end of town, you know, and Capone's not shown any interest in the White Sox either. Are you a Southsider?"

I smiled and shook my head. "How much?"

"Let's call it a thousand per year." He sipped at his coffee again. "When you come into your own, then I can probably do a little better."

One thousand dollars isn't really that much. (About $12.6K in 2008) Still, it's far better than nothing... Further, my offices would be in Wrigley, so I wouldn't have to pay office rent anymore. A small bonus would satisfy my secretary (who would also be paid directly by Veeck.) All I had to do was make the Cubs my exclusive client.

"When do I start?" I asked, offering my hand.

He shook it. "You already have."

[metsguy234]

Here's to another AMAZING dynasty CatKnight!

Good start.

[CatKnight]

Table of Contents
1928 starts above.

HOUSE RULES
I. Settings
A. Chicago Cubs, starting in 1928
B. Equalized Cities
C. Revenue +0, Salary -40, Medical Staff -50, Draft Predict -50, Happiness vs. Negotiating -50, vs. Performance -100, Promotions +30/50/70/90, Contract Renewal +50, Platoon -50, Stat vs Scout +50, Historical Draft -50
D. Double Play -10, Intl Walks/Sac Bunts/Bunt Hits -50 all

II. Player Movement
A. Free Agency
1. Can hire FAs off season equal to my place in NL standings divided by 2 rounded down. No more than 2 per day.
2. Can hire one extra FA 'prospect' (69- overall, 85+ peak)
3. FA signings are per a variant of OFG's house rules

B. Resigning
1. All resigning must be done off season. There's a 50% chance a player will negotiate. Otherwise they'll negotiate per said variant on OFG's house rules.
2. I can avoid arbitration during the playoffs if OFG's house rules say I would be able to negotiate with the player directly. Otherwise we arbitrate.

C. Trades
1. I'm allowed 3 offered trades per year: 1 offseason, 1 April-June, 1 July.
a. Exception: Allowed 1 extra trade in April 1928 only
b. All offered trades must be via trading block. Can only balance with cash, not change players.
c. I can't offer more than 3 players in any one trade.
2. I may accept computer offers, but again can only balance with cash and not change the offered players.

III. Changes to the Game
A. The game will mimic (though not always copy) history, so I may from time to time force-retire, trade, 'injure' etc. players.
B. More importantly, it's my 'job' as 'commissioner' to keep the league reasonably competitive, and may take steps to ensure that.
C. I might break from history here and there as in previous dynasties.

IV. Other Fun Stuff
A. Yes, I suppose I can be fired from the Cubs. In time.
B. All these rules are subject to change because I feel like it.
*******

Spoiler Stuff

                                       High OPS 477 PA -  Low DICE 154 IP 
Year Record  Place  -   1st Draft   -  Batter of Year  -  Pitcher of Year 
1928 xxx-xxx xxx xx - xxxxxxxxxxxxx -  xxxxxxxxxxxxx   -  xxxxxxxxxxxxx




Awards

[Coach Owens]

So you can do a dynasty for every team but the Mariners?

[metsguy234]

So you can do a dynasty for every team but the Mariners?

Don't listen to him CatKnight! I think you should do your next dynasty from the viewpoint of pitcher John Maine.

(or at least one about the legendary New York Metropolitans )

[CatKnight]

metsguy: Thanks! Let's see how we do.

Coach Owens: Oh, there are a few teams I've tried to do over the past year plus and haven't done so well. I think I'll be happier sticking with the NL for awhile.
*******

Mid March 1928

William Veeck spent the next several days at home recuperating. Doc said he had three cracked ribs, but they'd heal if he took it easy. He did speak with William Wrigley, who confirmed that I'd be the team's "business" manager and that we would announce it at the end of the month once the team came home from training in California.

Meanwhile, Veeck thought it best to bring me up to speed on what's currently happening in baseball.

Last year the Yankees (110-44) beat the Pirates (94-60) 4 games to 0 to win the Series. 'We' finished fourth with a record of 85-68 trailing the Cards and Giants. New York's Lou Gehrig and Pittsburgh's Paul Waner won the League Awards.

League Leaders from 1927:

         AL                           NL
BA   Harvey Heilmann (DET) .398   Paul Waner (PIT) .380      
HR   Babe Ruth (NYY) 60           Wilson (CHC)/Williams (PHI) 30
RBI  Lou Gehrig (NYY) 179         Paul Waner (PIT) 131
SB   George Sisler (SLB) 27       Frankie Frisch (STL) 48

W    Hoyt (NYY)/Lyons (CHW) 22    Charley Root (CHC) 26   
ERA  Wilcy Moore (NYY) 2.28       Ray Kremer (PIT) 2.49 
K    Lefty Grove (PHA) 174        Dazzy Vance (BRO) 184
SV   Wilcy Moore (NYY) 13         Bill Sherdel (STL) 6

*******

Veeck then showed me the scouting reports for who his...my...people believe are the top 20 in the Majors:

Al Simmons (CF, Athletics) (93) [25] (.392 15 HR-108 BI 10 SB in 1927)
Mickey Cochrane (C, Athletics) (92) [24] (.338 12-80 9)
Jimmie Foxx (1B, Athletics) (89/93) [20] (.323 3-20 2)
Heinie Manush (CF, Browns) (90) [26] (.298 6-90 12 for DET)
Goose Goslin (LF, Senators) (90) [27] (.334 13-120 21)
Charlie Gehringer (2B, Tigers) (92/94) [24] (.317 4-61 17)
Harry Heilmann (RF, Tigers) (91) [33] (.398 14-120 11)
Lou Gehrig (1B, Yankees) (95) [24] (.373 47-175 10)
Babe Ruth (RF, Yankees) (95) [33] (.356 60-164 7)
Tony Lazzeri (2B, Yankees) (90/93) [24] (.309 18-122 22)

Lefty Grove (SP, Athletics) (93) [28] (20-13 3.19 14 CG 9 SV)
Red Ruffing (SP, Red Sox) (90/93) [22] (5-13 4.66 10 CG 2 SV)

Rogers Hornsby (2B, Braves) (93) [31] (.361 26-125 9 for NYG)
Hack Wilson (CF, Cubs) (90) [27] (.318 30-129 13)
Kiki Cuyler (CF, Cubs) (90) [29] (.309 3-31 20 for PIT)
Bill Terry (1B, Giants) (90) [29] (.326 20-121 1)
Paul Waner (RF, Pirates) (91/94) [24] (.380 9-131 5)

Pete Alexander (SP, Cardinals) (92) [41] (21-10 2.52 22 CG 3 SV)
Carl Hubbell (SP, Giants) (90/94) [24] (Rookie)
Carl Mays (SP, Reds) (90) [36] (3-7 3.51 6 CG)
*******

And lastly the Sporting News published its predictions for 1928:

American League
Philadelphia Athletics (106-48) (--)
New York Yankees (89-65) (17)
Washington Senators (82-72) (24)
Boston Red Sox (76-78) (30)
Cleveland Indians (75-79) (31)
Detroit Tigers (65-89) (41)
Chicago White Sox (64-90) (42)
St. Louis Browns (59-95) (47)

National League
St. Louis Cardinals (92-62) (--)
New York Giants (90-64) (2)
Pittsburgh Pirates (87-67) (5)
Cincinnati Reds (83-71) (9)
Chicago Cubs (79-75) (13)
Brooklyn Robins (69-85) (23)
Boston Braves (59-95) (33)
Philadelphia Phillies (57-97) (35)

First, while I agree the Athletics are a good team, they're going to beat Murderers' Row by 17 games? Second, maybe we won't win the pennant...but second division?

We'll see about this.

[mbanghar]

Grear startr as always. If the Royals are going to lose you, I must say I am glad to see you land a job with the northsiders.

[petrel]

I sense another great dynasty in the making...and with the signature "CatKnight", I know I'm not wrong....

[gogosox11]

Looks like another great dynasty (despite the bad team choice.) Hope yoou can keep this one going for as long as your Royals one.

[RedsoxRockies]

WHY CHICAGO!!!!! I HaTE CHICAGO!!!!!! But great start!

[gosensgo101]

Back in your element cat, history. It'll be interesting to see how you portray Landis.

[PotatoOfCouch13]

Make him a sniveling, conniving, a**hole!

Just kidding. I'm really looking forward to this. Another dynasty that I'm certain will garner some HOF buzz.

[filihok]

Some people are already calling this dynasty "The next Cardinal Sins". It's a lot of pressure for a young dynasty, and we'll see if it can survive the hype.

[CatKnight]

metsguy: Oh yes, I always wanted to write about John Maine! (:runs from Coach

mbanghar: Thanks! I'll try to stop by the Royals now and then, but I want to try and get this going first.

petrel: Thanks!

gogosox: Well, there is a White Sox dynasty on the boards now which is in the 20s. Plus, I wanted to get away from the 'Black Sox' scandal while still being able to use criminal elements

RSR: Very long story short, an article about the '38 ASG made me think I wanted to write something in this era. Then I heard "The Night Chicago Died" and thought 'Oooh, gangsters!'

gosensgo: Not sure how I'll portray him yet, though we're about to get one man's impression.

Potato: Maybe!

filihok: Wow. If anyone's comparing this yet, it's probably premature, but thanks
*******

Late March 1928

After spending a week with my new client going over arrangements, I finally returned to my office to start packing. I just told my secretary I'd be out of town working on a new case that would bring in the bread. "Sure, C," she replied. "Sure."

Anna's attractive in a slutty kind of way, which is to say not really unless you're desperate for some action and willing to chance a rash. Straggly blond hair framed her face, and she always wore old dresses with flowery patterns. You'd think she wasn't making enough money. Certainly she did.

"I quit, Mister C!" she shouted as I opened the door.

"And a good morning to you too." I tossed my fedora at the rack, missing. "Has it been quiet?"

"I'm serious, Mister C! A girl's gotta watch out for herself. I have opportunities! Just thought I should tell you 'fore I go."

"Opportunities? What opportunities?" I ambled towards her. "Secretary elsewhere? Who'd take you without asking me for a reference? Factory work?" I took her hand and turned it palm up, studying it. "Not likely."

She snatched it back. "Opportunities!"

I took a wad of cash from my coat pocket and held it in front of her. "Guess you don't want this then?"

Anna snatched this too, mumbling as she counted.

"It's all there, hon."

She kept counting, then finally looked up. "What'd you do, Mister C? Rob a bank?" Her eyes widened. "You've been made?"

"We've been made." I turned my back to regard my now former office.

Fear and excitement laced her voice. "Who? Bugsy or the Southsiders?"

"The Cubs."

Pause. "Who do they work for?"

"No, hon." I turned back. "The baseball Cubs."

She looked confused, poor thing. Can't say I blame her. Finally she said, "I read that someone knifed one of their assistants. This have something to do with that?"

"You could say that." I recounted my fight and Veeck's conversation.

"You fought off one of Moran's boys? Mister C! They'll kill you!"

I grinned. "They can try. Pack your things, hon. We have a new office now."

"They'll kill me!"

"They don't kill dames, hon. Bugsy's Catholic. It's against his religion."
*******

"WRigley 5-3406," I told the operator. A man who could have a whole exchange named after him was someone to be taken seriously. Not to mention someone with an inflated ego. After a brief battle with his secretary, I got "This is Wrigley."

"Yes, Mister Wrigley. My name is Catrett. Veeck hired..."

"I know all about you, Catrett. You're very late. I left a message with your secretary days ago. I do not encourage sloth, sir, and if..."

Now listen, chums. When someone's trying to bully and browbeat you, you have two options: Take it or don't. Taking it is usually the safer course, especially with the man who signs your checks. People who are used to giving orders tend to get riled up if someone stands up to them.

On the other hand, at least I can look people in the eye and not at the ground.

"Listen, Wrigley! I've been with your man while he patched up. God knows I'd love to be sitting on my bum and chatting it up with you, but I thought maybe since I'm on the clock I should be learning what the devil Veeck wants me to do. I'm here now. What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you," Wrigley growled. "If you are going to represent this organization, then I want to be assured you are of the proper character to do so. It was noble of you to save Mister Veeck from his attackers, but that doesn't assure me that you're anything more than a thug who happens to be on our side."

"Thug is it?" I snapped. "Listen here, chum. Last man who called me a thug or anything like it wound up laying on the floor. You want to fight? That's alright. If you want to talk, then cut the nonsense."

I could hear the gears turning in Wrigley's head. "Do you know where my office is?"

"At the factory?"

"That's right."

"I'll be there."
*******

William Wrigley was a large man, with grey-white curly hair and a confident, dignified attitude dressed in a very nice black suit and tie. He shook my hand, then immediately escorted me out of his office so we could walk the halls. Small talk at first, showing me his domain.

Twice clerks, young men who would fall in the face of a stiff breeze, presented papers to him. He spoke kindly, though condescendingly and I wouldn't have been surprised if he patted them on the head like the eager, submissive puppies they were.

"Let me tell you what I know, Catrett. Then you can add anything you want to. Born in Philadelphia in '97, you fought the last year of the War in France. Nothing outstanding, other than getting out of there with your life and limbs, but nothing disgraceful either. Came out here to pursue a failed love affair and didn't have the money to go home. Hopped from boarding house to boarding house until you got your feet under you. Tried detective work: Failed. Tried protection services: Failed. Was about to go out of business until you encountered Mister Veeck. How am I doing?"

"I could have gone home. Didn't want to. As for going out of business, that's a lie, Wrigley." And why was I defending myself? How did he get so much information on me?

"Is it?" He smiled at me. "The good news is you're not affiliated with a gang. You're not a Red. In fact, politically you're not much of anything. You did know you have the right to vote in Chicago?"

How??

"Fine. You have the goods on me. That's jake."

"I'm happy you approve." Wrigley nodded at a side door and we walked onto one of the factory floors. Now, in most factories I've seen the ratio of white men to anything else is about 90/10. Here it was closer to 60/40, with a fair share of women. Off to one side, clearly isolated from the others, black men packed and unpacked boxes.

"How egalitarian of you, Wrigley."

His eyebrows rose that I knew such a word, but he smiled. "Thank you. That's pretty much what I tell anyone who asks. The truth, however, is it's practical."

"How so?"

"No one expects me to pay much to women and boys."

"And you wanted me to see this, because....?"

Wrigley turned to face me, lifting his chin. "I'm a practical man, Catrett. I know how to get things done quickly and efficiently. I value such traits in other men. I am a fair judge, sir, and generally I think you possess what I want to see in a manager. However, there is one thing I do not like, one thing that will not do."

I folded my arms, resisting the urge to smash that smug face.

"You have a temper, and because of that you do not know your betters. Now, Mister Veeck speaks highly of you, and so we are going to proceed as before, but you will need to master yourself going forward. First, I am not a man to tolerate such behavior. Second, and perhaps more important, neither is Landis."

"Who the devil is Lando?"

"Judge Landis. Commissioner of the Major Leagues. He's broken more men like you than I can count, and I will not have him turn his attention on the Cubs. He is a man best avoided. Do not draw his ire, or you will regret it."

Well, we'll just see about that too.

[mbanghar]

mbanghar: Thanks! I'll try to stop by the Royals now and then, but I want to try and get this going first.

gogosox: Well, there is a White Sox dynasty on the boards now which is in the 20s. Plus, I wanted to get away from the 'Black Sox' scandal while still being able to use criminal elements

Not going to lie and say I don't miss Justin Case, but if this what we are going to get instead I will be very hapopy. While it is premature for sure, this does have all the makings of a classic already.

I hope the Cubs keep your interest, and that my little White Sox dynasty didn't deter you from your perferred choice. Anyways anxiously waiting the next installment.