Joe and Mike Cantillon: Firebrands of Baseball

By Michael Bosanko

Joe and Mike Cantillon: Firebrands of Baseball is a true and inspirational story. The book tells the story of two first-generation Irish-American brothers from a struggling immigrant family. They rose from hardscrabble beginnings in Wisconsin to reach the upper echelons of baseball and achieve their baseball dreams in the major leagues. The inspiration for this book was the author’s interest in his family history; Joe Cantillon was his great-great-uncle and Mike Cantillon was his great-grandfather. This is a touching tribute that documents their contributions to baseball. It is an entertaining look at the Cantillon brothers’ journey during a wild and wooly time in our favorite pastime.

About the Author
Michael D. Bosanko worked for thirty-four years in New York State Government in the finance field and is now retired. He has an undergraduate degree from St. John’s University in Minnesota and a master’s degree in Public Administration from the University of Wisconsin. Bosanko is also an avid tennis player, enjoys traveling, and likes historical novels and television programs. He lives in upstate New York with his wife Marge. They have two children, Nick and Brendan. He is a professional sports fan, especially tennis, football, and baseball. He has been a member of the Society for American Baseball Research for over five years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: Apr 24, 2024
• ISBN: 9798886047639

Book preview

Preface and Acknowledgements

Brothers Joe and Mike Cantillon were national figures in baseball that reigned supreme in the Midwest for many years. Both were players, managers, umpires, owners, and scouts. When I was a teenager, I first learned about the Cantillon brothers from my mom but did not become interested in my family’s baseball heritage until some years later. My grandmother, Ruth (Cantillon) Head, never really talked about her father, Mike Cantillon, and her uncle, Pongo Joe. I will explain the story behind his famous nickname later in the book.

Due to her father’s influence, Ruth loved baseball and was a devoted Minnesota Twins fan. When Ruth was older, her father took her to Minneapolis Miller games and taught her how to score the games in a scorebook. I was excited when I received a signed copy of Stew Thornley’s On to Nicollet Park: The Glory and Fame of the Minneapolis Millers from my parents, which included a chapter about the Cantillons. It sparked my interest, which led to Internet research and discovering that Joe and Mike were prominent figures in baseball.

Upon Joe Cantillon’s death in 1930, the Minneapolis Star (January 31, 1930) wrote about their adopted native son. In these days when biographies are once more coming to the forefront, some smart writer would do well to write the life story of the one and only Pongo. If he can affix to the printed page the color and atmosphere that hung about the grizzled head of the first citizen of Hickman, it should make the other best sellers appear like a dreg on the market by comparison. Today, there is no comprehensive narrative about the brothers’ life and their impact on baseball. They are not widely known outside the narrow circle of serious baseball scholars. As a result, I decided to write a book about them to publicize their overall contributions to baseball and provide a permanent record of their exciting lives.

This project remained an unpursued dream until about ten years ago, when I seriously began to work on this project. Writing the book was challenging because the Cantillon family history was not passed down, except for several of Mike Cantillon’s photos and keepsakes. Regrettably, I didn’t talk to my grandmother about her father and uncle before she passed away in 1983.

After submerging myself in research, I decided the book should also tell the broader story of nineteenth-century and Deadball Era baseball. My other goal is to advocate for a broader Baseball Hall of Fame (HOF) category for individuals like Joe Cantillon. Those individuals had impressive overall accomplishments but were not significant enough for Hall of Fame induction in  the traditional categories (Player, Manager, Executive-Pioneer, and Umpire). Because Joe did not play or own a team in the major leagues, he is not eligible as a player or executive. Much of his success was in the minor leagues as a player, playing captain and manager, bench manager, and owner. While he is eligible in the manager and umpire categories, he falls short due to either a lack of longevity or success.

Despite all that, Joe made other significant contributions to baseball. The Hall should consider a new grouping called builder-contributor for individuals that have made broader contributions. All the other major sports Halls of Fame, including football, basketball, tennis, hockey, golf, and soccer, have this more expansive category. As this book will demonstrate, Cantillon unquestionably was a builder and promoter of the game. Considering his overall contributions and impact on the game, the Hall should recognize Cantillon and other early builders in a new baseball builder-contributor category.

In print media, the surname was also spelled Cantillion (with a second i). However, the Cantillon spelling is used exclusively except when Cantillion appears in quoted material. I need to explain one caution about the baseball stories in this book. During this era, some players and newspaper writers exaggerated or fabricated their stories to be more entertaining. Also, individuals were likely to have faulty memories when recounting direct events years later or retelling stories passed down to them. For those reasons, while Joe was a funny man, some stories about him in the book may be embellishments or outright fabrications. I generally used firsthand accounts rather than secondhand accounts.

I also made every effort to corroborate these accounts by fact-checking names, teams, places, and dates and only included stories when I verified the main facts. As a result, I excluded those not consistent with known facts. I assume the accounts that Joe Cantillon told were factually accurate. However, I used several stories with minor inaccuracies because they provided valuable insight into the game during this colorful period in baseball. Therefore, readers should keep an open mind and take a broader view of some stories.

There is an extensive section on Joe’s playing and umpiring career but less about Mike’s diamond experiences. There are three reasons for this. First, Joe drew much more press coverage than Mike during their playing careers. Joe had an eighteen-year career in higher profile leagues, while Mike played for a shorter period in more obscure leagues. Joe was more prominent as a major league umpire and manager, while Mike never umpired or managed in the major leagues.

Secondly, Joe never left baseball during his lengthy career, while Mike took a ten-year hiatus to pursue business opportunities. Lastly, Joe was more flamboyant than his brother, which made his antics and outspoken nature a more popular subject for the press. However, this unequal coverage of the two brothers in the book should not diminish that they worked as a team, and both made significant contributions to baseball.

Thanks to both my sister Margaret Bosanko Werness and Rex Hamann (The American Association Almanac author) for their valuable editing assistance and support. My wife, Marge, was supportive and a sounding board for this endeavor. Next, I want to thank and recognize the large group of Midwest minor league baseball devotees whose own research efforts were invaluable. The season summaries created by Stew Thornley and Rex Hamann for the Minneapolis Millers and Dennis Pajot for the Milwaukee Brewers were a tremendous resource. Terry Bohn and Joe Niese also provided me with helpful information. Tim Wiles, Freddy Berowski, and Bill Francis from the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York were helpful with my research requests. Sue Braden from the Hedberg Public Library in Janesville, Wisconsin, Judy Reason at the Hickman Public Library in Kentucky, and John Decker at the Stearns History Museum in St. Cloud, Minnesota, all supplied newspaper articles. The internet was a critical source, with the following sites used quite often: SABR’s player biographies and retrosheets, and Baseball-Reference.com. player and team statistics. Various online newspaper archive sites were a primary resource for telling this story.

Introduction

This book is a personal celebration of my ancestor’s Irish heritage and their experiences in baseball. It is a story about the sons of a struggling immigrant family who rose from hardscrabble beginnings to reach the upper echelons of baseball and achieve their baseball dreams. While Mike and Joe Cantillon were typical of the thousands of Irish Americans who played baseball in these early years, the two brothers accomplished much more than many counterparts.

They did not fall prey to the occupational temptations that affected other Irish ballplayers, such as alcoholism, carousing, or early death due to suicide, disease, and mental illness. Instead, they climbed the ladder of success to achieve prominence and financial success as owners and managers, becoming influential figures in their sport. However, the money and notoriety were simply byproducts of their love for the game that gave them so much.

The Cantillons’ lives must be considered within the broader story of the growth of baseball, from the beginning of the twentieth century to its current status as America’s favorite pastime. In baseball’s early days, the sport was solely an American pursuit. Immigrants, predominantly the Irish, were the backbone of this wild and woolly game and played a significant role in baseball’s growth. The interwoven emergence of baseball and the young sons of Erin in this vibrant and developing country was a fortuitous convergence. These Irish American men were looking for a sport to help them assimilate into their adopted country and escape their poor economic, employment, and living conditions.

At the same time, the fledgling sport of baseball needed enthusiastic, young participants to grow the game. It was a good match. Baseball allowed Irish immigrants to pursue the American Dream, which was a crucial ingredient in integrating these young men into American life and providing them a means for social advancement. As Irish-born John K. Tener, NL president, declared in 1916, The poor, the rich - all classes of society – are drawn together by the love of the contested. … The baseball park is the one place where they all come together for the complete enjoyment of a fascinating sport. 1

Irish Americans quickly took to this new, exciting sport and soon became the largest ethnic group of baseball players, managers, and umpires. Hall of Fame historian Lee Allen determined that by 1885, more than forty percent of all major league players claimed Irish ancestry (including approximately forty ballplayers born in Ireland). ² The headline for an 1892 Sporting Life article (October 1, 1892) was, IRELAND ON TOP. Players of Irish Extraction Predominate. It stated: A glance at a scorecard during any League game will reveal the fact that probably one-half the players of the League are Irish-born or of Irish American parentage. … It all goes to show that as nationality, the Irish have a peculiar talent for ball playing and have, since baseball became professional, monopolized the best positions on the diamond and carried away the bulk of the money paid out for salaries. For that reason, the 1890s is known as The Emerald Age of Baseball. Then, in the early 20th century, managers with Irish ancestry, such as John Muggsy McGraw and Cornelius McGillicuddy Sr. (known as Connie Mack), became dominant.

In the late 1800s and early 1900s, some Irish American brothers were more accomplished baseball players than Joe and Mike Cantillon. However, the Cantillons, Henry and Matthew Killilea, Stanley and Frank Robison, and Patsy and George Tebeau, were among the most prominent brother combinations in team ownership and management. Joe and Mike were unique because they worked together on business ventures during their lives. Their partnership started with the Log Cabin Saloon in Chicago and continued as owners of baseball teams in Des Moines and Minneapolis. Mike Cantillon’s granddaughter, Sally (Head) Bosanko, observed the following about Joe and Mike Cantillon. I do know that these two brothers acted as a team and a family themselves. And from the stories passed on by my mom [Ruth Cantillon Head], things were pretty Irish-wild at the dinner table and all the gatherings - players joining in and playing practical jokes.

 Due to their shared love of baseball and close family bonds, Mike and Joe worked well as a team. A key ingredient in their baseball partnership was that they complimented each other well. With the Minneapolis Millers, Mike managed the business operations, Joe managed the team, and the two men worked together on player personnel issues. The two men generally worked in harmony, but there were occasional disagreements. For example, one year, Mike had a garage built in Nicollet Park for his new automobile. One starry night, Josephus stored his car in the kennel and left Miguel’s out in the clear Minnesota ozone. So far, so good. Before morning, your old pal, Jup Pluv [Jupiter Pluvius – Roman god of rain], cut in with a bit of moisture, and when daylight arrived, Miguel’s one-lunger was somewhat dampened. If it had been a regular pig-iron contraption, it might have withstood the ravages of the rain, but they say it is a paper mache gasoline go-cart and was somewhat melted when Miguel hove to in the offing. … After using some glue and rebuilding the craft, Miguel bought a new lock for the kennel, canned Josephus’ prize gift out in the yard, and carted the pieces of his land tugboat into the wee building. ³

The two men differed in their physical appearance. During Joe’s playing years, he was diminutive in stature, standing at 5’ 7" and 160 pounds. ⁴ Despite that, the Buffalo Enquirer (August 23, 1909) described the stocky Joe as big and powerful. To use a popular expression, he ‘is as strong as an ox.’ He had dark hair and wore a black handlebar mustache that was common then. The Sioux City Journal (January 3, 1895) describes a photograph of himself that Joe sent to the Sioux Falls owner. It is a picture of a handsome, athletic-appearing young man. Brother Mike was a larger man, about 5’ 11" and close to 200 pounds. He was clean-shaven for most of his adult life. Mike, like his brother, was a dapper dresser but usually wore more muted tones.

Joe Cantillon was a singular personality in baseball, often described in newspapers as picturesque and colorful. The Commercial Appeal (January 4, 1925) probably gave the best description. Cantillon is one of baseball’s best-known and most beloved figures. From one coast to the other, Pongo is known as a loyal friend, a jolly fellow, a true sportsman, a shrewd manager, and the champion storyteller of baseball where good storytellers abound. Alfred H. Spink, in The National Game, Second Edition, once said that Joe was one of the real, live, lovable characters in baseball. Milwaukee Sentinel columnist Ronald McIntryre noted that he always considered Joe to be one of the great characters of baseball. ⁵ The Boston Herald (February 1, 1930) called Joe a natural storm centre. Things happened when he was on the diamond.  

The game has probably never known a more colorful figure than Joe Cantillon, and it is not likely that the fans have become more intimate with any other character in the ranks of the pastime. He made much of his contact with the public through his never-ending flow of wit and his ability to tell humorous tales of the diamond. ⁶ He was an entertainer both on and off the field, always quick with a baseball story. Like a true Irishman, he had the gift of gab. Joe Cantillon is of the Tom Loftus brand and can amuse a crowd about as well as anyone in the business. Joe has all kinds of baseball yarns at his fingers’ ends, and he never fails to make good. ⁷ Fellow Irish American Loftus was an influential 19th-century baseball figure. Sportswriter George Alderton described Cantillon as follows: Cantillon was one of the great wits the game has known. The red-faced Irishman was a one-man vaudeville show. In these days of trite radio comedy, Joe could have sold his stuff for a mint. ⁸

George Barton was an executive sports editor and columnist for 53 years (1903-1957), primarily for the Minneapolis Tribune. He was also a nationally known boxing referee, a wrestling promoter, and Minnesota Athletic Commission Chairperson. Barton first met the Cantillons in 1903, and they soon became close friends. After Joe’s death, Barton talked about Joe’s story-telling skills. "We have listened to some corking storytellers during our long association with the sports world; Joe Cantillon was the king of them all. Witty to the nth degree and knowing how to narrate a story briefly and yet get the proper kick into it, Pongo was in a class by himself when it came to spinning yarns. ... During a training camp grind or making baseball trips with him, we would often be with Joe for four to six weeks at a stretch. Most of our evenings would be spent listening to Joe relate yarns which had to do with baseball or strange characters whom he met with back in the days when he and his brother ran the famous Log Cabin Saloon in Chicago." ⁹

There were several aspects to Joe’s dynamic and magnetic personality. He was likable, loyal, and extremely generous. The Kansas City Star (July 29, 1916) said Joe is a thoroughly likable fellow. His own players like him and the players of the club desire nothing better on the ball field than an occasional repartee with Joe. The other managers like him – everybody likes him. Joe’s old Janesville teammate Frank L. Smith explained, And so it was with Joe Cantillon, wherever he went. He could sit for hour after hour and continue in conversation on baseball; enjoyed getting into strong arguments over the national sport; and had some awful fights over it, but the next day spoke to the other man as though nothing ever happened between them. ... In his later years, he retained the same qualities that made him liked among baseball men in his earlier years in the game. He enjoyed a good fight over a game but would always come out of it as a friend of the other fellow. He possessed a personality that would attract baseball men and hold them interested in whatever he had to say. ¹⁰ Joe was very loyal and generous with his friends. There are countless stories about Joe lending a helping hand to a player in need.

Both brothers were tough taskmasters who expected their players to follow the rules. One of Pongo’s childhood friends, John O’Hara, talked about Joe’s management style. While Joe was a good storyteller, he was also a strict disciplinarian. When his club would stop for a short time in any town, he would take them to the baseball field for practice. Some of the players, however, objected to this. Joe remarked that he never asked any man to do a thing he would not do himself, and the practice continued. The old saying, ‘practice makes perfect,’ was his watchword. ¹¹ Despite the discipline, men loved to play for Joe because he used humor to deliver the harsh medicine. In the Brooklyn Daily Eagle (February 1, 1930), Harold C. Burr described Joe’s most notable characteristic. Perhaps the greatest of Cantillon’s attributes was his ridiculing his men and making them like it. He was trigger quick on repartee. When he made his point, clean and sharp as a spike wound, his victims began to laugh in spite of themselves. He mixed humor with his driving as no manager ever has done.

There were both similarities and differences between the two brothers. Joe was a risk-taker who lived a carefree lifestyle. On the other hand, Brother Mike was more serious, goal-oriented, and responsible, despite being younger by a year. He was smart with finances, turning two struggling baseball teams into profitable organizations, and had other successful business investments.

Mike was generally honest, but there were occasions when he engaged in morally questionable conduct. My mother, Sally (Head) Bosanko, recalled a story that illustrates Mike’s approach to life. One day, Mike and his son Joe were driving, with the younger Joe at the wheel, during the winter months in Minneapolis. Due to slippery roads, they ran the car into a snowbank. As they backed out of the deep snow, the vehicle hit a pedestrian in the leg. The poor injured pedestrian was yelling in pain, so young Joe insisted that they stop to help the wounded bystander. Instead, Mike told his son to drive away quickly. Joe followed his father’s orders, but after they left the scene, Joe protested. Mike’s response was, He has another leg, doesn’t he?

They were both scrappy fighters on the field due to their competitive nature and explosive Irish tempers, both as players and managers. It was a trait that occasionally got the best of them, resulting in violent outbursts, fights with umpires, players, and fans, unsportsmanlike acts, ejections on the field, and blistering treatment of their players when they played poorly. Charles Gabby Street said Joe Cantillon had an Irish temper that was an abiding curse. ¹² Joe admitted as much, saying, I once possessed one of the finest little tempers in captivity. ¹³

Mike had a temper that rivaled Brother Joe’s. When he was a manager, his nickname was Rowdy Mike because of his propensity for fighting. George Barton said that Mike Cantillon was one of the toughest losers I can recall. Barton tells of one occasion in 1912 when Mike lost his cool. In the ninth inning, the Millers lost a critical game when a home run barely cleared Nicollet Park’s short right-field wall. Cantillon, raging in the clubhouse without giving thought to what he was saying, growled, ‘I wish this blankety-blank ballpark would burn down.’ A ballplayer from one of Chicago’s toughest districts told the Miller boss he would be happy to do the job. ‘Nix, kid, nix,’ yelled Cantillon, ‘I was only fooling.’ Cantillon, fearful the rookie might fulfill his offer, spent the night in the Nicollet Park office to make doubly sure nothing would happen. ¹⁴

The brothers were alike in other ways: they had biting but witty senses of humor, loved to tell stories, were dapper dressers, were blunt, stubborn, and candid speaking men, and lovers of card games like bridge, hearts, pinochle, and poker. They shared a love of the outdoors, hunting and fishing, and dogs. Mike owned prize bird dogs that he used for fowl hunting, and Joe owned dogs throughout his life. When newspapermen dropped into the Cantillons’ saloon in January 1907 to get some pictures of Joe, they couldn’t find any of Joe that did not show more dog than baseball manager. Every picture had him surrounded with his favorite animals. ¹⁵

Both men enjoyed tobacco products. Mike enjoyed cigars and cigarettes while Joe favored pipe smoking, cigars, and chewing tobacco. The Washington Post (October 22, 1906) observed that Joe smokes a cigar incessantly and looks the part of a manager through and through. Marse Joe McCarthy, the famous Chicago Cubs and New York Yankees manager, once said that Joe Cantillion was the only manager I ever knew who dared smoke on the field. He used to work on the coaching lines with a big, black cigar in his face and even smoked while hitting to infielders in practice. But Cantillion said that he didn’t feel well enough established in baseball to get away with that until he had been in the game for 40 years. ¹⁶  

Both the brothers were drinkers like many Irish back then. Mike was probably an alcoholic because his death certificate listed his cause of death as liver cirrhosis. Throughout Joe’s life, there were conflicting references to being an abstainer and a heavy drinker. Joe was undoubtedly a hard drinker in his early playing days. However, after becoming a player-manager later in his career, he probably abstained from alcohol, drinking only in the off-season. In 1895, the Dubuque Sunday Herald (July 12, 1895) noted that Capt. Cantillion himself is an absolute teetotaler.

In 1930, Milwaukee Sentinel sportswriter Manning Vaughn described Joe’s drinking habits. Although Joe was never known to drink to excess, he loved to sit around with his friends and, under the warming influence of the cup that cheers, to chat and spin tales of the diamond. When taken ill three years ago, his physician ordered him to stop all drinking, but Joe refused to quit. ‘If one can’t drink, one might as well be dead,’ he often said, and he was a handyman with the seidels [large mugs of beer] right up to his death. And he was never ashamed of it. ¹⁷ Joe and Mike Cantillon would achieve many things in their respective baseball careers. They would lean on each other through it all, and that teamwork energized their careers.

Chapter One

The ‘Big Train’ Arrives

"This boy throws so fast that you can’t see ‘em…

and he knows where he is throwing because if he didn’t,

there would be dead bodies all over Idaho."

Letter to Joe Cantillon describing

Walter Big Train Johnson ¹

In 1907, Joe Cantillon was in his first year managing the Washington Nationals in the American League (AL). His team was struggling, and they were near the league’s bottom with a 15-28 record in mid-June. Meanwhile, in the Southern Idaho League, a nineteen-year-old phenom named Walter Johnson was making local news when he threw consecutive no-hitters. The second one was between Johnson’s team, the Weiser Kids, and Emmett. The young pitcher hurled a perfect game - not a man reached base - and struck out eighteen batters.

Later in his life, Joe recounted he had received a letter from an old Oakland teammate, Joe Mickie Shea, about Johnson. An old friend of mine named Shea, who is a sign painter, touted Johnson to me. He saw Walter pitch independent ball and was favorably impressed with the youngster’s wonderful arm. So he sat down and wrote me that Johnson was there with everything and could make good in any man’s league. ² Joe Shea’s communication resonated with him. Joe recalled, Like other major league managers, I received letters every other day about this or that busher [an inexperienced rookie from a minor league], but there was something in Shea’s letter that struck me seriously. ³

Although Cantillon doubted whether this kid could succeed in the big leagues, he was desperate for good pitchers. So on June 17, Cantillon sent Johnson a telegram, offering him a position on the Nationals at a good salary and paid transportation to Washington, D.C. Walter turned Cantillon down because he didn’t think he was ready for the big leagues yet. Joe didn’t want to lose Johnson, so he sent an injured Cliff Blankenship out West to get the young hurler. Joe recalled his conversation with Blankenship. ‘Suppose I don’t like him,’ inquired Blankenship. ‘Never mind about that,’ said I. ‘This club needs ballplayers and needs ‘em badly. So just bring him along and let me have a peep at him.’ ⁴ Although other major league teams were aware of Johnson, only Cantillon had the foresight to go after this unproven talent.

After first stopping in Wichita, Kansas, to sign another hot prospect, Clyde Deerfoot Milan, Blankenship traveled to Weiser, Idaho. He arrived on June 28, and after catching Walter during a warm-up, Cliff offered the kid a job on the spot without watching him pitch in a live game. Walter checked with his parents, who gave their son permission. The next day, in New York, Cantillon received a wire from Blankenship with the good news.

You can’t hit what you can’t see. I’ve signed him, and he is on his way. ⁵ Incredulously, Walter signed no actual contract, and no salary was agreed to, only a $100 signing bonus. Walter only had two conditions: he could finish the Southern Idaho League season before joining the Nationals and receive a return fare to his home in California if he failed to make the team. Little did Joe know then that this discovery would be the crowning achievement in his long and impressive baseball career.

Joe realized the kid was a long shot, joking to the sportswriters, If this fellow is what they say he is, we won’t have to use but two men in a game, a catcher and Johnson. He strikes out most of the men, so why have an infield and an outfield? I shall give all the boys but the catchers days off when Johnson pitches. ⁶ On June 30, Walter lost a pitcher’s duel to league rival Caldwell in a 1-0 eleven-inning game, which stopped his scoreless streak at 77 innings. 7 Meanwhile, the Washington Herald ran the following headline that day:

SIGNS NEW PITCHER

Blankenship Secures Idaho Phenom for Nationals.

HAS MADE A GREAT RECORD

Several weeks passed as the Nationals fell into a deeper hole. On July 23, Cantillon excitedly announced that Johnson, the Idaho pitcher with the greatest strikeout record, wired two days ago that he would start that night for Washington, and I am looking for him any minute. He is somewhat of a blind chance, but I have a hunch he is the goods. ⁸ Three more days passed, and Cantillon began to worry. During that time, he sent Johnson a slew of telegrams. On the evening of July 26, Joe was sitting on the Old Hotel Regent porch on Pennsylvania Avenue near the White House, where he lived, talking baseball with two future Hall of Fame umpires, John Jack Sheridan and Billy Evans. Evans later recalled the conversation that pivotal evening:

Cantillon said, Looks as if I will have to get the railroad companies to send out a tracer after this fellow Walter Johnson. Why and who is Walter Johnson? asked Sheridan. He’s a pitcher from the wilds of Idaho who doesn’t throw anything but strikes, answered Cantillon. …However, as Cantillon finished his speech about the busher, who was two days late in arriving from Weiser, Idaho, I saw a tall, gangling fellow approaching with a brand-new suitcase swinging from his right hand as if it contained no excess baggage. I decided he was either a very strong young man or was traveling very light. Later events proved I was right in both deductions.

Why, here he comes, I exclaimed as I looked in the stranger’s direction. It was only a few minutes before he had pulled up in front of where we were sitting. Is this the hotel where the Washington ballplayers stop? he asked. Only the good ones, replied Cantillon, who was keen for his joke no matter who suffered.

Then I guess this is no place for me. The youngster had set his suitcase down as he talked with Cantillon. …Then I guess this is no place for me, he repeated. Suiting his actions to his words, he stepped over to where he had dropped his suitcase, picked it up, and was about to start on his way when Cantillon asked: And who might you be? My name is Walter Johnson. ⁹

Cantillon jumped up to his feet and greeted the youngster like a long-lost brother, asked where he had been, told him how he had been watching every train for the last two days, and a lot of other things that made Mr. Johnson immediately feel at home. The Nationals’ team that Johnson had joined was in last place and was deficient in almost all aspects. The team was desperate for help and publicized the pitcher, but others quickly questioned his legitimacy. He had, after all, been playing in the most bush of the bush leagues, so there was no way to know whether his incredible record reflected his greatness or his opponents’ weakness.

After several days, Cantillon let Johnson pitch batting practice to both squads before a game against Chicago on August 1. Second baseman Jim Delahanty, the Nationals’ best hitter, described facing Walter in that practice. I never had time to take the bat off my shoulder. The ball shot right by me, right in the groove, and was in the catcher’s glove before I knew it had left the rookie’s hand. And when he came back with another one in the same spot, I laid my bat down and walked over to manager Joe Cantillon and said, ‘I’m through.’  ‘What’s he got?’ asked Joe. ‘Has he got a fast one?’ ‘Fast one,’ I replied. ‘No human ever threw a ball so fast before.’ ‘Has he got a curve?’ Joe queried. ‘I don’t know, and I don’t care,’ I said. ‘What’s more, I am not going back to find out until I know how good his control is. From now on, he can pitch for me, but not to me.’ ¹⁰

Cantillon recalled that day years later: Walter was burning them across with a lot of speed. Some of our players were actually afraid to go to the plate. Their excuse was: ‘The kid’s wild.’ Kehoe turned around and shook his head at me several times, indicating the new arrival was showing him real pitching. ¹¹ Years later, Cantillon told the Milwaukee Journal (June 13, 1928) that Johnson wound up with an easy motion and zowie, that ball flashed over the plate so fast it looked like a freckle.

Cantillon had wanted to work his new find into the mix slowly but decided to start Johnson sooner than planned. Before that day’s game, Washington megaphone man, E. Lawrence One-Arm Phillips, baseball’s first public address announcer, told the home crowd that Johnson would start the next day in the first game of the doubleheader against the Detroit Tigers. ¹² The mighty Tigers were in a tight battle with Chicago, Philadelphia, and Cleveland for first place at the time and would eventually win the first of three straight AL pennants that year.

Here is the incomparable Tyrus The Georgia Peach Cobb’s account in his autobiography, My Life in Baseball: The True Record (1961):

On August 2, 1907, with the race virtually tied among three teams, I encountered the most threatening sight I ever saw on a ball field. He was only a rookie, and we licked our lips as we warmed up for a doubleheader in Washington. Evidently, manager Pongo Joe Cantillon of the Nats had picked a rube out of the cornfields of the deepest bushes to pitch against us. The new boy was making his big-league debut that day. …

 One of the Tigers imitated a cow mooing, and we hollered at Cantillon: Get the pitchfork ready, Joe, your hayseed is on his way back to the barn. The sandy-haired youngster paid no attention at all. The first time I faced him, I watched him take that easy wind-up – and then something went past me that made me flinch. The ball came in so fast that I wondered if he had a concealed gun on his person. I hardly saw the pitch, but I heard it. The thing just hissed with danger. We couldn’t touch him, and so we waited, expecting the kid to turn wild and start issuing walks. But after four innings, he hadn’t thrown more than a dozen balls.

The Tigers realized early on that they couldn’t beat Johnson unless they tried different tactics. So Cobb led off with a bunt hit in the second inning, advanced to third on another Claude Rossman’s bunt, and eventually scored. The Nationals tied the game in the sixth. In the eighth, Sam Wahoo Crawford’s inside-the-park home run put Detroit ahead, 2-1, and Cantillon replaced Johnson at the end of that inning. In the ninth inning, the Nationals mounted a rally, scoring one run but leaving the tying run stranded at third base. Before a standing-room-only crowd of about 11,000 fans, the Tigers beat Johnson and the Nationals, 3-2. Billy Evans and Jack Sheridan umpired Johnson’s first game. Walter was dominant, giving up only six hits; three were bunts or infield hits. Detroit also won the second game, moving into first place.

After the second game, Walter Johnson lingered on the bench for a while, missing the team bus. With his uniform still on, he finally got up and followed the departing crowd out of the stadium. Johnson recalled what happened next in his syndicated newspaper column My Pitching Years. ‘Hey kid,’ someone shouted, ‘some guy wants you back there.’ I looked around, and here came Joe Cantillon. ‘Where you going, Johnson?’ he asked, half smiling and half-frightened. ‘The hotel,’ I answered in a doubtful tone of voice. ‘Hotel? Hell!’ he shot back. ‘You’re already five blocks in the wrong direction.’ ¹³

To a man, the Tigers were extremely impressed with this rookie hurler. After the game, fellow pitcher Wild Bill Donovan said that Johnson would be a greater pitcher than Christy Big Six Mathewson ever dared to be. Hall of Famer Crawford recalled Walter’s first game, He [Cantillon] was a nice guy; Joe was always kidding. Before the game, Joe came over to the Detroit bench and said, ‘Well, boys, I’ve got a great big apple knocker I’m going to pitch against you guys today. Better watch out; he’s plenty fast. He’s got a swift.’ He told us that, you know. And here comes Walter, just a string of a kid, only about nineteen or twenty. Tall, lanky, from Idaho or somewhere. Yes, Joe Cantillon was a kidder, alright, but he wasn’t kidding that day. … He threw so nice and easy – and then swoosh, and it was by you." ¹⁵

Cantillon extolled his phenom after the game, proclaiming, I have been in baseball nearly thirty years and began drawing salary in 1882, and in all that period, I never saw such a promising young pitcher. Just remember the conditions. He did not come here after working his way up by slow degrees in small leagues, winding up with a finishing course in Class A leagues where they play almost the same ball they do in the majors. He came from a horse and buggy league in Idaho where they play every Sunday if the weather’s good, and if it’s bad, they wait a week. ¹⁶

In 1925, Johnson recalled Cantillon telling him, You did all right. If there are any more kids your age out there in Idaho who can hold a world champion’s ball club to two runs in his first game, I’d like to sign them up. ¹⁷ Years later, Cantillon explained how naïve Walter was. Johnson was a big, bashful kid who looked as though he had never seen an electric light before. I told him that pitching in the major was just as easy as pitching at county fairs. I was kidding, of course. I offered him a contract for $400 [a month]. The kid almost fainted. ¹⁸ The two men would form a strong working relationship.14

Five days later, Johnson earned the first of his 417 career wins against Napoleon Nap Lajoie’s Cleveland team, 7-2, throwing a complete game, four-hitter with six strikeouts. The Washington fans mobbed Johnson when the game ended and tried to carry him off the field. Cantillon and several players formed a cordon to protect Johnson. Recalling Walter’s first two games, Cantillon said, It was the best debut I ever saw for a pitcher, and I knew he was going to be the great pitcher he turned out to be. When he started his second game, I told him not to worry – to pitch his head off. He did and beat Cleveland easily. After the game, I congratulated him and mentioned that Napoleon Lajoie, one of baseball’s greatest hitters, couldn’t get a ball out of the infield. ‘Which batter was he?’ Walter wanted to know. ¹⁹

The day after the Cleveland game, the great Lajoie, who could only muster an infield hit, said about Johnson, Joe Cantillon certainly slipped one over on the rest of the AL when he landed that fellow. ²⁰ Cleveland pitcher Adrian Addie Joss called Walter another Denton Cy Young. In his next game on August 14, Johnson lost a 1-0 thriller to St. Louis, and his career was off to a flying start.

Cantillon knew he had a gem but realized he needed an experienced catcher to work with the young pitcher. Cantillon had four veteran catchers, Blankenship, Jack Warner, Mike Heydon, and Mike Kahoe, who all helped teach Johnson the finer points of pitching. Late in his first season, Johnson learned the change of pace pitch. Manager Cantillon and Bob Ganley took the youngster in hand yesterday morning and had him experiment with the slow ball. Mike Kahoe was on the receiving end. Johnson mastered the teaser so quickly that he astounded those of the trio that were teaching him the art. Cantillon was amazed at what a quick learner Johnson was, exclaiming, Johnson is the most apt youngster that ever broke into the game. He learns quicker than any player I have ever come across.

He mastered the slow ball in less than half an hour. ²¹ This pitch made him an even more dominating pitcher. When he first came to the Nationals, Johnson’s only weakness was poor fielding. Joe finally had seen enough and called an extra practice so Walter could work on fielding bunts. It must have worked because Johnson eventually became an outstanding fielder; he was the AL’s best defensive pitcher five times.

Walter’s 1907 statistics, other than a mediocre 5-9 record attributed to a lack of run support, were excellent. He didn’t pitch enough innings to qualify for the AL leader boards. However, his 1.88 Earned Run Average (ERA) and 5.79 strikeouts per 9 innings would have placed him fourth and second in the league, respectively. He allowed only 33 runs in 14 games, a low 2.36 runs per game. It was the start of an incredible career.

Following his successful rookie season, Johnson returned home to Southern California to play for the San Diego Pickwicks. Walter was the star of the Pacific Coast League (PCL) championship series, striking out 16 and winning the first game, 1-0, against the Los Angeles Angels. However, San Diego lost the last contest and the championship when a sore-armed Johnson could not repeat his Game One success. Johnson developed an infection behind his right ear. He delayed getting treatment, the condition got worse, and he had to have life-threatening brain surgery. The Washington Herald (March 10, 1908) summarized Cantillon’s feelings about Johnson’s health situation while Joe was in Galveston, Texas. The manager is not only full of sympathy for the sufferer but is also vastly disappointed that Johnson is not here for the rigorous course of spring sprouts and exhibition games which would help his batting and fielding.  

On March 11, 1908, Joe’s mood improved when he received the following telegram from Walter in Fullerton, California: Out of hospital. Will play this season.  Cantillon immediately wired his congratulations to the pitching phenom and said it was the best piece of news he had received in a long time. When I learned, in a roundabout way, that Walter would not be able to play this season, said Cantillon tonight, I placed little credence in the report. As soon as we reached Galveston, I commenced shooting telegrams to the hospital at Fullerton, but the news tonight is the first definite information I have received from the player. Walter Johnson is easily the greatest pitcher that ever broke into baseball, and naturally, his illness was the source of great worry to me. ²² Cantillon received another message from his prize pitcher about a week later. Doing fine and will be in fighting trim by April 14, depend on it. Good luck to the boys. ²³

However, Johnson’s recovery took longer than expected, and he didn’t report until June 6 in Chicago. Because Johnson wasn’t really in pitching condition, both the team and Walter’s results suffered. The team was riding a seven-game losing streak, and manager Cantillon was desperate to end the skid, so he called on Walter on June 11. The Big Train did well until tiring in the fourth inning, and Pongo pulled him. The Nationals lost 6-3 to St. Louis.

When he finally pitched himself into shape, he started to live up to the promise he had shown in his first season. The most outstanding performance of his career took place Labor Day weekend in New York when he pitched three consecutive complete-game shutouts against the New York Highlanders. Cantillon brought only four pitchers to New York due to a rash of injuries. Rookie Burt Keeley had tonsillitis, Jesse Tannehill and Long Tom Hughes had lame arms, and Case Patten failed to show up for the series after Cantillon let him go home in New York. This pitching shortage necessitated the excessive use of Johnson in that four-game series.

On Friday, September 4, he topped future Hall of Famer Happy Jack Chesbro, 3-0, pitching a six-hitter. Walter later recalled, After the game, Joe asked me how my arm felt. ‘Are you ready to pitch tomorrow, Walter, if we need you?’ he asked. ‘We want to win all the games we can get, but I don’t want to work you to death unless you can stand it.’ I told Joe I would go in again and do my best. So on Saturday, Walter proceeded to top the Highlanders again, 6-0, this time giving up just three hits and no walks.

After the game, Cantillon said about Johnson, He will have a good rest before he is asked to go in again, and I can’t see why he should not be entitled to make a little record for himself so long as he is willing to go ahead with it. For that matter, I don’t know, but he would be able to pitch all four games against the Highlanders and beat them as they are playing at present. 24

Johnson did get a day of rest on Sunday because there was no game. In 1924, Walter recalled that Cantillon thought I had earned a good rest and offered to let me off on Monday, too, if I wanted to take the day off. I was going to take him up [on it] when word came to me at the hotel Monday morning that the other fellows could not go in and do their turn in the box. I know Joe hated to ask me to go in the box again, so he directed Cliff Blankenship to tell me that he planned using me again in the third game. ²⁵

So, on September 7, Johnson threw a two-hitter, beating Chesbro again, 4-0, in the first game of the Labor Day doubleheader. It was his third consecutive shutout win. A funny thing happened after the Nationals’ half of the seventh inning. Johnson came back to the bench and noticed the normally loquacious Cantillon wasn’t talking and appeared nervous. The manager continually dipped the tin cup into the bucket of ice water and kept dousing it down – cup after cup. Cantillon was perspiring that hot September day. ²⁶

If a Chesbro pitch hadn’t hit Walter in the ribs late in the game, he might have pitched the second game of the doubleheader, too. During a conversation with Walter and other old Nationals teammates many years later, Joe explained, When we went out for the fourth game, [Norman] Kid Elberfeld and some of the other New York players came over to our bench. ‘Who’s going to pitch today?’ the Kid asked. ‘I don’t know yet,’ I said. ‘I haven’t talked to Walter. He hasn’t come out yet.’  ‘If that Idaho Hurricane pitches again, none of us will have a job,’ declared Elberfeld. ²⁷ Thankfully for the Highlanders, Tom Hughes pitched, completing the four-game sweep with a 9-3 win. Walter continued his remarkable streak by winning his next two games before losing a 2-1 battle to George Rube" Waddell.

Despite missing the first two months, Johnson finished the 1908 season with a respectable 14-14 in 256 1/3 innings and three top-five finishes in the league - ERA (1.65), strikeouts (160), and shutouts (6). Not bad considering seven of Johnson’s starts were one-run losses, and he faced the league’s top pitchers, including Doc White, Ed Summers, Ed Walsh, Donovan, Joss, and Waddell. He had an uneven season in 1909 under Cantillon but turned it around starting in 1910.

After twenty-one years exclusively for Washington, Johnson retired with a 417-279 record and a 2.17 ERA. He then managed the Washington Senators and Cleveland Indians for seven years. Today, many still consider Walter the greatest pitcher in history. The Big Train achieved many notable career accomplishments that are too numerous to list. In 1936, Johnson was one of five charter members elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame.

He won the AL Triple Crown three times (most wins, most strikeouts, and lowest ERA) and was a two-time AL Most Valuable Player (MVP). Other achievements include two no-hitters, AL season wins champion six times (tied for first with Grover Cleveland Alexander and Bob Feller), second-most career wins behind Cy Young, AL most wins six times, and AL ERA champion five times. He had a 55 2/3 consecutive scoreless innings streak in 1913 (third-best in history) and is the only pitcher with two forty-plus consecutive scoreless innings streaks.

Johnson holds the following major league marks that will probably never be broken: most career shutouts (110), 38 1-0 victories and 26 1-0 losses; AL season strikeout leader 12 times (including a record eight straight seasons); the only pitcher to win 20 games and bat over .400 (.433) in the same season; and nine consecutive seasons of pitching over 300 innings.

Not only did Cantillon discover the great right-hander, but Johnson himself acknowledged the critical role Joe played in Johnson’s early development. In a self-penned article summarizing his life in 1925, Johnson said, I want to introduce Joe Cantillon early in my story because he was a mighty important and helpful fellow early in my baseball life. ²⁸ In another article, Walter recalled, Blankenship and Cantillon taught me a whole lot about pitching that has helped me in my career. In my first year, I relied wholly on my fastball, never attempting to try a change of pace and seldom pitching curveball. But with careful coaching, I was now beginning to mix ’em. ²⁹ In 1925, Johnson said, Joe Cantillon never gets tired joking about it when we met. But Joe never joked when I needed advice and encouragement as a rookie. And in all the years that have passed, he never forgets the Idaho kid he helped so much. ³⁰  

James Isaminger was a preeminent sportswriter for the Philadelphia North American and Inquirer and a president of the Baseball Writers’ Association of America (BBWAA). In 1928, he gave his perspective on Joe’s influence, writing in his column Tips from the Sports Ticker: An everlasting monument to his managerial regime was the fact that he [Cantillon] developed Walter Johnson into one of the mightiest of all pitchers. It might be said that Johnson was a wonder pitcher when he joined Washington. On the other talon, it would be possible for Joe to have ruined his career by bad advice, and it was also possible that he might have traded or sold him before he developed into THE Johnson. Therefore, Cantillon, a former umpire, must receive full credit for his sagacity in turning Walter into the prince of pitchers. ³¹

Forged by the pressures of baseball competition, Joe and Walter remained close friends throughout their lives. The two men were great woodsmen, spending time together in Augusta, Georgia, discussing hunting, dogs, and baseball. In 1925, Walter Johnson affectionately recalled his first encounter with Cantillon, explaining that Cantillon had asked questions about Johnson’s time in primitive Idaho: He poked quite a bit of fun at me, but I wasn’t wise [to it] until he said, ‘Of course, you know you won’t be permitted to carry revolvers in this league.’ ³²

In 1913, Joe fondly described how he felt about his prized recruit after Walter’s first major league game. From that day on, Walter Johnson was a fixture in the AL. What he has done since is a matter of record. Never was there a boy more deserving of success either. He is a clean, modest young fellow whose head never has been tilted in the slightest by the fame that came to him. He is the same quiet young fellow today he was the afternoon he came into my office … While I was with him, he never had a bad habit, and as far as I could see, never changed in the slightest. He’s a wonderful pitcher, a fine fellow, and there’s nobody in the world pulling harder for him all the time than myself. ³³

Chapter Two

Janesville, Wisconsin

Joe and Mike’s parents were Patrick and Catherine (McGuire) Cantillon. Both were born in Ireland; Patrick in 1826, probably in County Kerry, and Catherine in 1828 in County Kilkenny. During the Great Famine of 1845 – 49, a blight disease struck the Emerald Island and destroyed the national potato crop, the country’s primary food source. By 1847 (Black Forty-Seven), the Irish were dying by the thousands every day from starvation, typhus, fever, and dysentery diseases. Over a million Irish died during the famine, and another million left the country.

A December 1846 coroner’s inquest describes the horrible conditions for a deceased widower and his three young children living in Tralee, County Kerry (Patrick’s home county). Besides the corpse on a miserable wad of straw laid two children almost gasping with hunger, the third child being out begging, having left its sickbed. The poor man breathed his last on Wednesday, leaving his attenuated and skeleton frame and the pallid countenances of his three children to attest to the fact of famine having made its ravages in this town. ¹

The desperate situation in Ireland would force Patrick and Catherine to flee the Emerald Isle. In June 1849, twenty-three-year-old Patrick boarded the Moses John in Tralee, County Kerry, arriving in Boston in August. Catherine had emigrated a year earlier. In 1852, Patrick worked and lived at the Marine Hospital in Staten Island, New York, which quarantined immigrants. The two immigrants met and were married in 1853 in New York State. Sometime in the 1850s, the couple traveled west to pursue their dreams in their adopted homeland, eventually settling in Janesville, Wisconsin. Located in southern Wisconsin near the Illinois border, Janesville was the second-largest city in the state in 1860, with 7,500 residents; the Irish composed about 16 percent of Janesville’s population (1,200 people).

After the railroad reached Janesville in 1853, this growing city attracted Irish immigrants like Patrick. ² Patrick started working as a laborer for the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad (CNR). He moved up the ladder through hard work, working successively as a bridge foreman, construction foreman, and mason in the construction division for many years. Patrick was a hard-working Irishman. Even after he retired, he was a gateman for a street crossing. Employment with the railroad was a dangerous and arduous vocation; Patrick and most of his boys suffered injuries on the job.

The railroad provided a steady income for the Cantillon family despite the dangers. Life was tough for immigrant families, and the Cantillon family was no exception. They were at the bottom of society’s pecking order, living a hardscrabble existence. And to make things worse, there were many mouths to feed in this large family of ten. The family survived on Patrick’s meager railroad salary until the boys were old enough to work for the railroad. The parents ran a disciplined, family-oriented household, laying the groundwork for their family’s success in life.

For nearly forty years, the Cantillons lived at 159 North Hickory Street (now Harding Street) in the Second Ward, composed primarily of Irish and German immigrants. Residents called the ward gashouse district because it contained a power-generating gashouse. The Rock River and the Chicago, Milwaukee, and St. Paul railroad tracks ran right behind their house. The Cantillons initially belonged to St. Patrick Catholic Church, the oldest church in Janesville, established in 1847. St. Patrick, which served the mostly working-class Irish residents, was the social, cultural, and religious gathering place for the Cantillons. After a second Catholic parish was formed, St. Mary’s, the Cantillon family switched to that church due to its proximity.

The first three children born, in order, were Thomas, William Billy, and James. Joseph, the fourth child, was probably born on August 19, 1866. His death certificate, grave marker, and Joe himself (in a Minneapolis Tribune article) listed the 1866 birthdate. However, there are conflicting birthdates for Joe. Many newspapers state that Joe was born in 1861, while other sources list his birth year as 1863, 1865, or 1867.

Joe was usually quite evasive and touchy about his birthday, especially as he got older. Being a master showman, he was probably just trying to create mystery about his birth date for entertainment purposes. One day, after a reporter asked about his age, Joe responded, ‘There’s nothing to this report that I am ashamed of my age. I was born on the nineteenth of August in Janesville, Wis., at 3 o’clock in the morning and baptized on the first of September the same year, and the records are all there to prove it. What more do you want than that?’ ‘Fine, Joe, but what year?’ he was asked. ‘Now listen,’ Joe exploded, ‘didn’t I tell you August 19, in Janesville, Wis., at 3 o’clock in the morning? If you were a gentleman, you’d be satisfied with that instead of asking about my birthmarks, my first remarks, and my childhood ailments.’ ‘But what year?’ ‘Well, I didn’t fight in the Civil War, but I’ve been in professional baseball for forty years.’ ³

According to the Minneapolis Sunday Tribune (April 22, 1923), Michael Edward Cantillon was born on February 12, 1869. While his grave marker lists the birth year as 1867 and the 1910 U.S. Census lists it as 1868, the 1869 birthdate is the most likely. Three more children were born after Michael, Mary, Richard, and Catherine, all in Janesville.

Not surprisingly, most of the Cantillon boys found trouble in their youth - William, Joe, and Richard were all arrested during their childhood. For instance, in 1881, Joe and a group of friends were at the scene of a fight between Joe’s friend, Cornelius McGinley, and another man. The opportunity presented itself Friday evening, for as Frank Brown was walking along the street, he met McGinley, who was in company with John Hageny, Jo Cantillon, and John Laskosske. McGinley went for Brown and succeeded in thumping him pretty successfully. Police arrested Cantillon and his three friends. The four men appeared before Justice Nolan, who found McGinley guilty of assault but discharged the other three since they were not involved. ⁴

The following year, police raided a gambling party at Henderson’s saloon and arrested James Hageny, Joseph Cantillon, and proprietor Nat Henderson. Henderson soon afterward pled not guilty to a charge of keeping a gambling house. The police dismissed Cantillon and Hageny’s charges because they were only onlookers. ⁵ According to Janesville residents who knew the family, they all were pretty ready with their fists and could handle them effectively and with skill. Any baseball argument that arose could be settled by the Cantillons, if necessary. ⁶

Despite the hardships faced by immigrant families, the Cantillons managed to survive in Janesville. Baseball was a welcome escape from the challenges. In either railroads or baseball, the Cantillon brothers have achieved fame for the whole family, worked at railroading, and played at baseball. They played just as hard as they worked. ⁷ All six Cantillon boys first played the game on the sandlots of Bunker Hill near the Cantillon home, which is now a vacant lot. The boys initially played on local amateur teams but soon graduated to the semipro Janesville Mutuals in the mid-1870s. James, Joseph, and Michael learned the game from their two oldest brothers, Thomas and William. They watched them play together on their neighborhood team called the Imps of the Prairie and then the famous Janesville Mutuals.

Janesville has a strong baseball tradition. The first newspaper record of organized baseball clubs was in 1860, when the Janesville Base Ball Club, the Bower City Base Ball Club, and the Badger Base Ball Club were created. The Janesville Daily Gazette (July 5, 1860) summarized the games played on July 4: The Janesville club having the first innings and winning the first game, and the Bower City Club having the first innings of and winning, the second and third games. Janesville became a hotbed for baseball after the Civil War. The Mutuals were established in 1868 and named after the famed New York Mutuals baseball club.⁸ The Janesville Mutuals were the acknowledged State champions in 1869, 1870, and 1875. There were also amateur clubs called the Actives, Mitchells, Gas House Gang, and Excelsior Juniors.

In 1875, Thomas was the first Cantillon to play for the Mutuals. In 1876, both Thomas and William played for the Janesville Mutuals, facing many of the Midwest’s best teams, including the Chicago White Stockings, Winona Clippers, St. Paul Red Caps, Chicago Dreadnaughts, Milwaukee West Ends (Wisconsin), and Detroit Etnas. The Mutuals lost to the White Stockings and pitcher Al Spalding, 18-9. That season, Chicago won the National