This is a phallic object, take it. That’s how Desmond Morris, the renowned anthropologist, described the act of flipping the middle finger. “By doing it, you are offering someone a phallic gesture.” And it’s a gesture that has a very long history.
While some have made the claim, a claim I was even taught in school, that flipping the bird came from the Battle of Agincourt in 1415, where legend holds that English soldiers chanted “pluck yew,” in reference to drawing the longbow. However, the history of people giving each other the middle goes back millennia.
The gesture shows up in Greek times, along side some other obscenities that have fallen out of disuse, such as waggling the penis. It continued through the Roman times, with members of the Senate displaying it proudly during chamber conflicts. The Romans would even have a special name for it, the Digitus Impudicus, or the indecent finger.
During the Middle Ages, the gesture would die off a bit, and for the early history of the United States, it didn’t make a big splash. But by at least 1886, that had changed. That year, history would be made by a baseball player who was captured giving the iconic gesture.
“Old Hoss”
Charles Gardner Radbourn was born on December 11, 1854, in Rochester, New York. Born to English immigrants, he would grow up in Bloomington Illinois, where his family moved in 1855. Once he was old enough to work, he joined his father as a butcher.
Radbourn would eventually become a brakeman for the Indiana, Bloomington and Western Railway company, but it was baseball that was his true calling. At 24 years of age, he joined his first barnstorming team, the Peoria Reds, as a right fielder and change pitcher.
Two years later, in 1880, Radbourn made it into the majors with the Buffalo Bisons of the National League. During his first season, he wouldn’t pitch an inning, but trained so hard that he developed a shoulder issue, leading to his release after just six games.
Not one to quit, he fought through recovery. His first game back was for a Bloomington pick-up team against the Providence Grays. Radbourn was so impressive that Providence signed him on the spot. The next year, he would become the team’s primary pitcher.
But things would soon get a bit rocky. While Radbourn was a great pitcher, he wasn’t the most pleasant man. He was famous for being tough, ornery, and for his drinking abilities. In 1884, it would almost catch up with him.
An Ornery man
Continuing as the Grays’ primary pitcher in 1883, Radbourn would lead the league in wins, throwing up an impressive 48-25 season. Rounding out the season, he would rank second both in his earned run average, as well as strikeouts in the National League. But it wasn’t enough. The Grays’ came up short, and failed to win that year’s pennant.
This put the team at risk, with their finances less than secure. Bringing on a new manager, Frank Bancroft, it became clear that either they win the 1884 season pennant, or they wouldn’t have a team to come back to. Switching things up, Radbourn would end up having to share pitching duties with one Charlie Sweeney.
This did not sit well with Radbourn, who was known as being vain. As the season progressed, tensions would rise, and Radbourn would push it until it broke into violence, with him being the instigator. To add to the issues of the team, Radbourn would purposely lose the game on July 16, through poor pitching.
Luck would have it that Sweeney was a worse drinker than Radbourn though. On July 22, after starting the day with a few drinks, and then drinking throughout the game, Bancroft attempted to relieve him of his duties. Sweeney would eventually throw some insults at Bancroft, before being ejected from the game. A game the Grays lost after having built up a lead through the seventh inning.
Sweeney wouldn’t return to the Grays, having been fired, leaving the team in such a disarray that it was certain they would simply be disbanded. Instead, they would go from nearly having to quit, to winning the pennant, and much of it was because Radbourn offered to come back.
Radbourn’s return wasn’t without a few stipulations. He would come back if he got a small raise, and if he would be exempt from the reserve clause for the next season. For the Grays, it paid off. Of the next 43 games, they won 36.
He would lead his team to the 1884 World Series, against the New York Metropolitans, where the Grays would win all three games. Radbourn would only allow three unearned runs.
The years was so successful for Radbourn that if he had quit then, he still would most likely have made it into the hall of fame. He won the Triple Crown with a record of 60-12, a 1.38 earned run average, and 441 strikeouts. He pitched a total of 73 complete games, and had 60 wins in a single season, a record that most likely will never be broken. And while he wouldn’t set the record in innings pitched in a season, he does stand in second place, with 678.2, just 1.8 innings behind first place, which is held by Will White.
However, the season would also have a toll on Radbourn’s body. Pitching every other day, his arm would become so sore that he could barely even comb his hair. This injury may even be where the term charley horse comes from, as is often speculated.
The Grays’ phenomenal year in 1884 though would only delay the death of the franchise. They would fold after the 1885 season, and along with that, Radbourn’s career would also begin to fizzle, albeit slowly.
The Finger
After just a few seasons of playing in the Major Leagues, Radbourn had practically clinched the title of the greatest pitcher in the 19th century. But he would never be able to recapture the magic of 1883 and 1884.
With the Grays folding, he would find a new home with the Boston Beaneaters, which would change their name to the Braves in 1912. The team would be one of the league’s most dominating teams throughout the 19th century. Which was a great fit for Radbourn.
Between 1886-89, while pitching for the Beaneaters, he would reach the 20-win mark three times. But by then, time had caught up to Radbourn. He would begin drinking more, which led to a more cranky attitude, that helped inspire fear in other players.
It was his first year with the Beaneaters though that Radbourn would once again make history, but for a very different reason. It all came down to a photo, and an age-old gesture.
On April 29, 1886, opening day of the 1886 Beaneaters’ season, the team would take a photo with the New York Giants. As the two teams were standing together, getting ready for the photographer to take the photo, Radbourn rested his right hand on the shoulder of a teammate who was sitting in front of him.
As the photographer was ready to take the photo, at the last moment, Radbourn, keeping a straight face, lifted his left hand into view, and firmly thrusted out his middle finger. He would remain completely still as the photo was taken, assuring that his gesture would be crisp and clear in the final image. Radbourn wanted to make sure his gesture would be seen.
That year, he would pitch 27 winning games, all the while drinking a quart a whiskey a day. That drinking would be part of his success. It not only helped with his injury to his arm, but also made him a bit more ornery.
This ornery streak led to a number of intimidation tactics which struck fear into batters. A favorite tactic, as reported by Ed Achron, author of “Fifty-Nine in ’84: Old Hoss Radbourn, Barehanded Baseball, and the Greatest Season a Pitcher ever had,” was that “a teammate used to go to the opposing teams bench and say ‘you should watch it,’ and then the first pitch would come so close to the guy’s ear. And that’s one of the ways he dominated other teams.”
The next year, Radbourn would pitch 24 winning games. What he would most be remembered for though is becoming not only the first person to be captured in a photo giving the finger, but also the second. This time it was for his player card for Old Judge Tobacco.
With his hands on his hips, and his middle finger extended, Radbourn would once again defiantly flaunt the gesture. It was clear he wasn’t impressed with having his picture taken, or being on baseball cards.
Fading Years
After four seasons with the Beaneaters, three of which he pitched 20 wins, he played one season with the Boston Reds, where he pitched 27 wins. The next year would be his last.
In 1891, he signed on with the Cincinnati Reds. There he would become the fourth pitcher to reach the 300 win club, a club with only 24 members. He would end his career with a record of 310-194 and a 2.68 earned run average, over just 11 seasons.
Side note: It may be remembered that Radbourn did play a season with the Buffalo Bisons in 1880, which should put it up to 12 seasons. But since he never pitched, and was released so early on in the season, it hasn’t been considered his rookie year. His rookie season is acknowledged as his first season with the Providence Grays in 1881.
Once Radbourn retired, he would largely live outside of the public’s view. In Bloomington, Illinois, he would open a successful billiard parlor and saloon. But shortly after his retirement, he was seriously injured in a hunting accident, and lost an eye.
Too embarrassed to be seen after the injury, he spent most of his life secluded in the backroom of his business.
At the age of 42, on February 5, 1897, Radbourn passed away. Having lived large during his life, he had contracted syphilis, and complications from the disease ended his life.
Forty-two years later, Radbourn would find immortality. In the first Old Timers’ Class of Hall of Fame, Charles “Old Hoss” Radbourn would be inducted, after having been edged out in the inaugural vote in 1936.
Today, Radbourn has become mostly known for his infamous gesture, but he has also gone down in history as one of the best pitchers in the game, and the greatest of the 19th century.