The Winter of 1883: A New Peace and Familiar Faces
The winter preceding the 1883 season marked a turning point in professional base ball. Following a single, acrimonious season of increased costs due to competition for players, the Federal and Interstate Leagues reached an accord. Dubbed the National Alliance of Professional Base Ball Clubs, the agreement called for mutual recognition of contracts, a reserve list of ten players per club in each league, and a universal blacklist — any player barred from one league would be excluded from all. The pact also noted the impending arrival of two regional circuits, scheduled to begin play in 1884, which would likewise be bound by the Alliance’s terms. For the first time, professional base ball could claim a measure of order across the country.
Federal League Franchise Shuffle
But peace at the league table did not mean stability in its ranks. In Philadelphia, old grudges had resurfaced. The Unions, expelled from the Federal League in 1878 after Henry C. Landis quarreled with then-president Charles W. Garrison, found their fortunes reversed. With Garrison now in his grave and his successor Augustus Pembroke unwilling to reopen old battles, the way was clear for Landis to buy his way back in. He purchased the Hartford Hawks and promptly uprooted them, re-establishing his beloved Philadelphia Unions as though they had never been gone. Hartford’s brief history would be absorbed, but its future was ceded to the City of Brotherly Love.
In Philadelphia, Henry C. Landis did not merely relaunch his old club — he gave the Unions a new home as well. After six years away from the big leagues, in a city that was hardly short on vacant lots and open fields, Landis secured a parcel along Girard Avenue and raised a handsome new wooden park, christened Girard Grounds. With space for some 5,000 spectators and easy access via the city’s expanding streetcar lines, the park offered a fitting stage for the reborn Unions, who now presented themselves not as upstarts but as rightful heirs to the city’s base ball tradition.
Providence, too, lost its nine, sinking in a sea of red ink. The rights to the Planters and their reserved players passed into the hands of Clinton Wood, one-time operator of the Detroit Woodward Base Ball Club. The eccentric Clinton Wood’s return to base ball came with a quirk only he could dream up. With the old Woodward Avenue Grounds long gone, Wood purchased land near the banks of the Detroit River and commissioned a new park, christened Riverside Park. The structure was a touch rustic — heavy timber, broad bleachers, and the scent of fresh-cut pine everywhere — but its location made it a natural gathering place for workingmen and fishermen alike. Befitting Wood’s newfound passion for angling, the club took the unlikely name of the Detroit Sturgeons, a moniker that raised eyebrows but quickly lodged itself in the city’s sporting vocabulary.
Amid these comings and goings, Chicago finally settled a matter long hanging in the air. With Harry Taylor now in control, he bowed to the wishes of his financiers and supporters by granting the club its popular sobriquet. The Chicago Cyclone Base Ball Club was at last official, its name registered with the League office in February. The Tribune celebrated with mock solemnity: “The tempest has at last a name, and it shall sweep from Lake Michigan across the diamond. Woe betide the unsteady nine who stand in its path.”
Thus, as the snow melted and the players made ready, the Federal League entered its eighth campaign with a fresh veneer of order — but also the familiar chaos of old rivals, old grudges, and new identities.
Interstate Association Expansion
The changes were by no means limited to the Federal circuit. With peace now secured, the International Association added two clubs to its ranks for its sophomore campaign. In what could be considered either a coup or a disaster, the IA admitted the legendary barnstorming club the Excelsiors of New York. Club operator Jeremiah Goodwin had spent five years stocking his club with top talent, and had earned the ire of many Federal League clubs along the way, as well as with fellow barnstormers such as Bartholomew Fitch and Dolph Fuchs. Fitch, putting business over (dis)pleasure, let Goodwin in for the "good of the circuit." Joining New York would be a new club in Indianapolis. Coming with far less fanfare - and expectations - the Indianapolis Stars brought the IA to a nice, round total of eight clubs.
The IA boldly grew to eight teams for 1883, adding two fresh entries:
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New York Excelsiors: Reviving the proud name of one of the earliest base ball clubs, Jeremiah H. Goodwin placed his money and prestige behind the Excelsiors and built an independent base ball legend. Their home, Excelsior Grounds, was sited near the Harlem River and aimed to attract respectable crowds from uptown as well as diehards from Manhattan’s working wards.
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Indianapolis Stars: The Hoosier State finally claimed its place in professional base ball. Amos L. Willoughby, newspaperman and publisher of the Indianapolis Evening Journal, erected a ground at the State Fair Grounds. Promoted heavily in print, the Stars expected to sparkle as a source of civic pride.
The IA’s expansion signaled the growing pull of base ball into both great metropolises and ambitious inland cities.