The Philadelphia Brewers leadership, Karl and Walter Boeselager, and Martin Pitsch, sat in the German Corner Pub and read the telegram sent by the league’s front office. Senator Samuel Watson put the Inter-Racial Championship Game between the Philadelphia Brewers and the Chattanooga Nickajacks on ice. The delegation from Chattanooga was about to arrive in Philadelphia and meet at the pub to talk about the game tomorrow.
“I can’t believe it,” Walt Boeselager shook his head. “This is blatant corruption! Mr. Monroe’s vice president, Henry Watson, won’t become the new commissioner, and his dad cancels the game against the Nickajacks.”
“Jacob will have a rough start. As long as the Watsons and that old fart Monroe are around, the blacks won’t be able to …”
“Won’t be able to do what,” two men walked through the open door. It was the Nickajacks general manager Bill Burgin and manager Harry Harvey. Karl immediately jumped up and greeted the guests. Walt put down the telegram, got up, and introduced his general manager. “Bill, Harry, this is Martin, our general manager. Martin, Bill Burgin is your counterpart in Chattanooga, and Harry Harvey is his manager.”
“Harry and I go way back when I still played baseball,” Karl continued. “We briefly played together for the Athletics, but we always stayed in touch after I ended my career. I was trying to get him to come to Philadelphia,” he continued in a deep and mocking voice. “But he had a mission to fulfill.”
“I’m glad we arranged this game. But as we got into the pub and took off our coats, it sounded like there was trouble. Is there trouble, Karl,” Harry asked his former teammate. What Karl didn’t explain was that Harry was Karl’s first American friend. Harry is just a year older than the Boeselager twins. While Walt acclimated quickly, Karl had trouble calling the United States his home. Harry helped him, and Karl helped Harry to become a mechanic apprentice at the Boeselager brewery.
“There is trouble indeed. This came in while you were on the train,” Walt reached for the sheet that had a few stains already. They were in a pub, after all, and each time Walt slammed his fist on the table, the beer spilled. “I don’t even want to read it. It makes me furious.” Walt passed the note to Burgin.
Bill Burgin took the telegram from Walt, and Harry Harvey moved closer to Burgin to be able to read it too. While Burgin let the piece of paper fall on the table, Harry cursed loudly and went on a five-minute rant about the politics in the United States and that there is still injustice.
“Harry, it doesn’t matter,” Burgin calmed Harry Harver down. “Things will never change.” Everyone looked up and at Burgin, but then lowered their heads again. It was true. Although the LBL had a new commissioner, funding came from a level that wasn’t happy with the upcoming plans.
“We might not be able to play the game officially,” Karl interrupted the brief silence. “But we can organize a public practice session. Show the people that our players can work together despite having different skin tones. As long as your team is here, you’ll be treated as our guests.”
After an announcement in the Germantown Gazette, both teams held public practices from October 25th until October 29th. In the first two days, people were reluctant, and it looked like the idea failed, but after the Nickajacks and the Brewers held an entertaining batting practice session, interest rapidly increased. But the teams also assisted each other. Leo McKenzie helped Buddy Turner of the Nickajacks to improve his swing while the Chattanooga staff showed Troy Bujak new practice techniques.
October 30th, 1904, marked the date of the first baseball game between teams of the LBL and LNBL. Unfortunately, though, heavy rainfall caused a small attendance and ended the game after six innings at 2-2.
The Boeselager brothers accompanied the Nickajacks to the station a day later. “Karl, I hope we see each other soon again,” said Harry Harvey. “It’s going to be tough for us both to win the title again, but even if we aren’t able to defend our titles and try to repeat a practice session in Chattanooga, I believe the bosses won’t let it slip again.”
The men shook hands. “Have trust in Mr. Parker,” Karl wouldn’t let go of Harry’s hand. “Have trust. Things will change, and I’m sure we will be able to see our teams face each other in one league one day.”
Harry nodded and got on the train.