Much Ado About Profanity: The 1898 Brush Resolution

Abstract

Much Ado About ProfanityThe 1898 Brush Resolution Larry Gerlach (bio) The 1890s was by far the most turbulent decade in Major League Baseball history, there being "scarcely an issue of The Sporting News that did not tell of kicking and wrangling with umpires, fights among players, indecent language, and incidents of rowdyism in general."1 By 1895, things were out of hand, National League President Nick Young admitting the "disgraceful scenes" were "worse than ever before known in League history"; esteemed sportswriter Henry Chadwick thought "painfully conspicuous Hoodlumism" and "blackguard language" were responsible for "the decided falling off in the attendance of the best class of patrons."2 Instructing umpires to eject instead of fining players did not curtail the rowdy play and billingsgate, so in 1897, club owners, faced with increasing criticism from the press as well as declining attendance, appointed an umpire supervisor, abolished the contentious postseason Temple Cup series, adopted the double umpire system, and resolved to curtail kicking and profanity. Subsequent enactment of the Brush Resolution to cleanse the field of the offensive language used by players against each other, spectators, and umpires proved controversial, laying bare league political discord as well as an unseemly aspect of the game at the turn of the twentieth century. Language on ballfields had devolved appreciably since 1845 when Ebenezer Dupignac Jr. was fined six cents for saying "s—t." Players in the nineteenth century were known for coarse language, but the increase in profane (culturally offensive), obscene (sexually abhorrent), vulgar (coarse or crude), foul (offensive), and indecent (offensive to standards) language had reached the point that "ladies were obliged to select back seats in order not to hear the abuse heaped on the umpire." Cincinnati owner John T. Brush decided to do something about the vile vituperation and crude language when told that a Reds player responded to a spectator's pregame inquiry about the day's pitcher with "Oh, go fuck yourself." 3 [End Page 34] At the league's meeting in November, Brush proposed creating an independent board authorized to permanently expel anyone using "foul, indecent and obscene" language from organized baseball. The intent was not to eliminate cursing and swearing—common currency on the field—but the "vulgar and profane language which shocks the average man" and has "a tendency to keep women and respectable men away from the game." After hearing examples of inappropriate language "not fit for publication," all agreed that something had to be done about "the rapidly-growing evil" of embarrassing language, save for Andrew Freedman, whose New York Giants were noted for contentious behavior. But the prospect of lifetime suspension was troubling. Wily old Cap Anson was not alone in thinking suspension of thirty to sixty days without pay would be a better penalty since it would take "a very flagrant offense" to "rob a man of his living." Complicating matters, some umpires, notably Tim Hurst known for blue talk, used "as much foul language as any player." Given concerns over the drastic penalty and just what constituted unacceptable language, the magnates appointed Brush, Boston's Arthur Soden, and Chicago's James Hart to a committee to define objectionable language and prescribe the procedure and penalty for dealing with offenders. Soden, believing only "crooked work" deserved lifetime banishment, thought suspension for the season was sufficient for an initial offense, and blacklisting for repeat offenses, but Brush and Hart insisted the penalty for the first offense "shall be expulsion without the possibility of pardon or reinstatement." 4 The Brush proposal met with strong support from newspapers throughout the league. The Sporting News also endorsed the resolution. "Its severity is its chief recommendation," a "strong ungloved hand" needed because players, "mainly through a lack of moral courage on the part of club officials," have "indulged in conduct and language calculated to disgust every reputable patron of the game." President Nick Young, too, thought there was "great necessity for legislation like the Brush proposal," and would enforce it "so long as I have the co-operation of the magnates."5 Aye, there's the rub. Philadelphia's John Rogers and Alfred Reach were "enthusiastic advocates of the severest methods to stop rowdy conduct...