Excerpts from "the first rough draft of history" as reported in The Washington Post on this date in the 20th century.
Sportswriting bordering on hagiography characterized The Post's coverage of the final game of the 1924 World Series between the Washington Nationals and the New York Giants. (The Washington team changed its name from the Senators to the Nationals from 1905 to 1956, then changed it back to the Senators.) The multi-talented manager of the team, Stanley "Bucky" Harris, also played second base and still found time to write a story (circled) at the bottom of The Post's front page honoring pitcher Walter Johnson. An excerpt from Oct. 11, 1924:
Washington won; so did Walter Johnson -- baseball world's champions both -- but the man who made possible the victory -- over which thousands of Washington enthusiasts yesterday afternoon went into paroxysms of joy -- was Stanley Raymond Harris.
The heart of a lion; the soul of a leader; the nerve of a born gambler; the tact of a diplomat; the brain of a master tactician and the courage of a great fighter carried the youthful manager to the great finale of a great world's series yesterday in the twelfth inning when, with one man down, Earl McNeely singled and made the score Washington, 4; New York, 3.
Harris was the rock that would not yield. He stood in the breach while his infield crumbled about him and white of face brought back within his halting colleagues the courage and skill that seemed about to desert them for the first time since late in June.
With virtually no aid from his teammates and supported mainly by his will to win, he drove three runs across the plate -- one with a homer -- when these runs meant the game, $50,000 and the title of world's champions.
He met "The Master Mind" of baseball, John McGraw, on his favorite chess board and outguessed and outgeneraled him.
Who is this Harris? Is he the man who but five short years ago played his first game of major league baseball? Is he the man upon whom the baseball experts smiled when Clark Griffith announced his choice of manager for 1924? Is he the youth of 27 who had the effrontery and audacity to take his club to the head of the American league and keep it there against the assault of older, wiser and presumably better men?
Today he sits on baseball's throne with no man possessed of the right or power to challenge his position. He succeeded where almost the whole world predicted he would fail. The fruits of glory can not be refused him.