Wednesday, January 27, 2021

Rancheros and Rough Riders - why the Chicago Cubs were Cowboys (if only for one year)

 

Chicago Tribune, April 7, 1899, page 4.


The Chicago Cubs have not always been known as “Cubs.”  They assumed that name, beginning in 1902, when their roster was stocked with young players.  Years earlier, when their roster was stocked with another crop of young players, they were dubbed the “Colts,” a name they carried for a decade, before losing their longtime player/manager, Adrian “Cap Anson.”  When he retired, following the 1897 season, they became the “Orphans,” reflecting the loss of their father figure.[i]  They remained the “Orphans” (for the most part) for several years, until transitioning slowly to the “Cubs,” beginning in 1902. [ii] 

But throughout the 1899 season, the “Orphans” were regularly referred to by several new, western-themed nicknames; names that lasted for only one season – the Cowboys, the Rough Riders and the Rancheros.

 The Chicago Inter-Ocean preferred “Rough Riders.”

Chicago Inter-Ocean, April 21, 1899, page 8.



 The Chicago Tribune preferred “Cowboys.”

Chicago Tribune, July 2, 1899, page 6.


The Logansport Pharos-Tribune (and a number of other newspapers throughout the Midwest) preferred “Rancheros.”

Logansport Pharos-Tribune (Logansport, Indiana), July 13, 1899, page 8.


The team earned the names, along with their spurs, during spring training at the Casa del Consuelo Hotel in Hudson Hot Springs, New Mexico, now known as Faywood Hot Springs.[iii]  They apparently didn’t play much baseball, but they staged a mock-train robbery, rode bucking broncos, learned to use a lariat, hunted jackrabbits and climbed mountains.  But it wasn’t all fun and games – they did play a few pick-up games against rough-riding cowboys, rancheros, miners, and veterans of Teddy Roosevelt’s cavalry regiment known as the “Rough Riders.”

The owner of the hotel travelled to Chicago early in the season and helped the players look the part, if only for one game.  They may have looked good, but it didn’t help their game.

Just before the serious work of the afternoon the genial Mr. Graham, who runs the hotel at Hudson Hot Springs, N. M., stood up in his private box, bared his head, and made a speech to Chicago’s ball tossers.  He told them, among other things, that they were genuine rough riders, and to give the proper emphasis to his assertion the good man from New Mexico presented the bunch with a full cowboy equipment, consisting of saddle, spurs, rifle cases, lariats, schapps, and a broad sombrero decorated with a dozen silver stars. . . .

All this, remember took place before the umpire ordered our young men to “play ball.”  Later, when the self-same young men were draining their composite cup of undiluted bitterness to the very dregs and incidentally breaking the hearts of their admirers, the girl in the Nile-green gown who sat near the press box voiced the views of the assembled thousands when she said:

“Well, they may be rough riders, but they are wondrous gentle today.  Why don’t they hit the ball?”

Chicago Inter-Ocean, April 30, 1899, page 10.

The story of how and why the team wound up in a remote corner of the New Mexico Territory  is an interesting footnote in Cubs’ history.  And if nothing else, these mostly forgotten, alternate team names might come in handy on a throwback uniform, or (at least in the case of “Rancheros”) for Hispanic Heritage Month, as an historically appropriate alternative for the conventional “Los Cubs” jersey, or the like (finders’ fee welcome, or I may be open to a licensing deal – call me). 

 

Chicago’s Spring Training History

During the ten seasons previous to 1899, Chicago’s National League baseball team had tried about ten different spring training locations – none of them satisfactory.  Thomas Burns, Chicago’s manager, recounted the problems before the 1898 season.

During the past nine years the Chicago team has tried no less than eight different places for spring training, and not one of the eight proved satisfactory from the players’ standpoint.  At St. Augustine the weather was too cold; at Denver the weather, the hotel, and the grounds were all unsatisfactory; at Atlanta the weather and the grounds were faulty; at Galveston the grounds, the weather, and to some the hotel came in for the usual amount of condemnation; at Hot Springs [Arkansas] both the weather and the grounds were condemned, and at Kansas City the weather did not please.  Chicago was tried as an experiment one year, and it was equally unsatisfactory; therefore I have arrived at the conclusion that a model training place, where the combination of good weather, good grounds, and good accommodations may be obtained, does not exist.  If it does, I have not been able to locate it.

Chicago Inter-Ocean, March 22, 1898, page 5.

The team’s President selected Hudson Hot Springs as the new training site because, “it more nearly combines the requirements for training than any other place yet visited by the Chicago team.” [iv]  


Training grounds for the Chicago base-ball team have been decided upon.  Far away from the haunts of civilization, in the home of coyotes, mountain lions and bad Indians, the orphans will be taken for their preliminary practice for the pennant race.  The home base will be located at Hudson Hot Springs, N. M.  The dismembered fragments of the “Rockies” on the north may be used for a backstop.  The cactus and sage studded plains on the south will serve for outfield. . . .

There is a splendid hot spring for drinking and bathing, a warm spring with a natural pool for open air bathing, perfect climate, good hotel, delightful natural surroundings and in all probability an acceptable ball field for practicing.

El Paso Herald, January 31, 1899, page 4.

 

Hudson Hot Springs

Although there is no direct evidence of how or why such a remote location came to their attention, they may well have heard about it from A. G. Spaulding, the former White Stocking and founder of the Chicago-based sporting goods company that still bears his name, a regular guest of the hotel. 

El Paso Herald, October 14, 1897, page 3.


Mr. A. G. Spaulding the well known sporting goods man of Chicago spent several seasons at the Hudson Hot Springs and pronounced the waters equal to the waters of the famous Carlsbad waters of Germany.

El Paso Herald, October 14, 1897, page 3.

Hudson Hot Springs was then, as now, a remote location.  New Mexico was still more than a decade from statehood, and even the railroad ticket agents had a hard time locating it on their maps.  


In a word, the local ball tossers are sorely troubled over this question of the location of the spring training grounds.  Tall Mr. Donohue put in three solid days in a vain effort to find Hudson Hot springs on the map.  Finally, on Friday last, he became desperate and visited the telegraph office.  In a fine Italaian hand he penned these words on a yellow blank:

“Proprietor of Hotel, Hudson Hot Springs, Grant County, New Mexico – Wire me location of your palace.  Can’t find you on the map, and the guys at the railroad office say you are not on earth.  How about it?  T. Donohue.”

Yesterday the telegraph people notified him that they were still making heroic measures to deliver the dispatch.  As a result, T. Donohue and his associates are sorely troubled.  They fear the management of the local club intend to lose the entire bunch somewhere in the alkali country and spring a team of new faces at the Chicago public.  T. Donohue will call on President Hart to-day and humbly ask for further information about the springs.

The Pittsburgh Press, January 31, 1899, page 5.

After the travel arrangements were sorted out, the team’s arrival at Hudson Hot Springs was more exciting than they had bargained for.

“HELD UP” BY BILL LANGE.

“Little Eva” Greets the Chicago Ball Tossers in His Own Peculiar Way.

Special Dispatch to The Inter Ocean.

HUDSON HOT SPRINGS, N. M., March 17. –

The Santa Fe train, carrying the members of the Chicago baseball team, was held up by four mounted men at noon today just as it was slowing up at the Hudson station.

Scores of shot were fired in rapid succession, and the timid ball players ducked behind the backs of car seats, while the courageous or inquisitive ones stuck their heads out of the windows and caught a glimpse of banditti.  To the tenderfeet they were a new and strange type of men.  Mounted on wiry bronchos with felt sombreros pulled down so that they partially concealed their bearded faces, bearskin schapps covering their legs, and armed to the teeth, they were a tough looking lot.

As the train came to a sudden stop Manager Burns yelled, “Keep that gun pointed straight up, Eva,” and it soon dawned upon the members of the party that the supposed highwaymen were “Bill” Lange, Demont, Tim Donohue, and “Sandow” Mertes, the four Chicago players who have been here a week, and who borrowed from their cowboy acquaintances all the “local coloring” they could get to make the reception of the rest of the team as interesting as possible.

Chicago Inter-Ocean, March 18, 1899, page 7.


The hotel here where the ball players are quartered, Casa del Consuelo, is a new building, planned after the Spanish style, 205 feet square, with a deep veranda etending all the way around it.  There are about seventy apartments, all light and roomy; in fact, it has most modern conveniences.

Chicago Inter-Ocean, March 26, 1899, page 10.


The real practice with the ball started this morning.  A cold wind was blowing down from the mountains, where snow fell last night, and Manager Burs forbade the players going tou to the new-made aldaki ball field.  Instead, the men, in uniforms topped off by sombreros, gathered on the open plain in front of the Casa del Consuelo and began limbering up.

To watch the form of the men, the practice was similar to the preliminary before a mid-season game.  Despite the raw wind the whole crowd worked fast and made much noise, while cowboys sat in their saddles and wondered at such a scene in the middle of the desert. . . .

The event of the day, however, was Bill Lange breaking a bucking broncho.  Bill was armed with great wheel spurs and the whole crowd gathered on the porch of the Casa to watch the event.  The animal was led around.  Two cowboys held the broncho and Lange swun swung into the saddle.  There was a moment of peace, while the animal made up its mind, then it shut up like a jackknife, straightened out again, and kicked.  Bill held his seat and again and again the animal tried new movements, but in the end Bill’s 202 pounds weighed on the beast’s conscience and it stopped still. . . .

The whoe team has fallen in love with Hudson and a better feeling lot of men would be hard to find.  The men eat at every meal as if famished and the outdoor life makes them look and feel better than any ball-playing could.

Chicago Tribune, March 19, 1899, page 6.

There will be another ball game, and the miners, cowboys, and ranchmen for miles around will be here.  It promises to be a day of great excitement, and the game may be interesting, as the Silver City mine is considerably strengthened, as there are several professionals living in the vicinity who play in the Western and Texas leagues.

Next Thursday there is to be a steer-roping contest for the edification of the Chicagos, and Donohue threatens to participate.

Chicago Inter-Ocean, March 26, 1899, page 10.


Bill Lange was rapidly learning the tricks of the cowmen.  Mounted on a huge sorrel Lange was riding with the best when pride took a fall.  The big center fielder came down across the desert, his horse at full gallop, in frantic pursuit of a bunch of wild burros.  Lange was standing in the stirrups with the lariat whistling around his head as at every jump the sorrel gained on the burros.  Finally the big fellow threw, the noose floated out in the air, missed the burro, and settled neatly over a fence post.  There was a shock and Lange and his sorrel rolled uninjured on the prairie while the crowd, cowboys, ball palyers, and guests at the Casa del Consuelo yelled with joy.

There was practice in the morning, but as soon as the riders began to arrive in acceptance of the invitation of Mr Graham, proprietor of the House of Comfort[v], ball playing was forgotten.  Pat Munn, Bill Brahm, Jack Perkins, and half a dozen other cow punchers tried to play ball in spurs and high-heeled Spanish boots, but they made a worse failure at ball playing than Lange did at lariat throwing and soon abandoned the game.

Chicago Tribune, March 31, 1899, page 4.

Chicago Inter-Ocean, April 2, 1899, page 11.


The players did not play much real baseball during their stay, but they got into great shape, and were in good spirits, an improvement over Waycross, Georgia in 1898, where the lack of good food and poor living conditions inspired them to nickname themselves the “Cannibals” (their teammates were the only good thing to eat) or the “Reconcentrados” (a Spanish word for concentration camp inmates in Cuba, which were in the news at the time, during the run-up to the Spanish-American War).[vi] Things were much better in New Mexico, despite the lack of real practice.

The stay at Hudson Hot Springs has given little chance to see the men in baseball or show their form.  The few games played offered but little chance for real work, yet the physical condition of these players is well nigh perfect.  The free, out-of-door life, broncho riding, mountain climbing, and long hunting trips, have made them hard as rocks.  The baths in the waters from the hot spring has driven away all soreness, and the good, plain food of the Casa del Consuelo has kept the men in a state of happy contentment.  The Hudson Hot Springs as a resort has drawbacks for real ball playing, but the club has not yet found so good a place for men to get into condition. . . .

There was a typical frontier ball at the Casa del Consuelo Thursday night given by Mr. Graham, the proprietor, for the club.  From ranches, towns, and mines the inhabitants poured down to the “House of Comfort” – cowpunchers from distant ranches far up the Mimbres River galloped in across the plain and, obeying the legend, “Please remove your spurs before entereing the ballroom,” stripped off their great Mexican spurs, hung up their sombreros, and entered the room, their high-heeled boots cracking on the polished floor.

The belles of Silver City and Deming came twenty-five miles over mountains and across deserts to lend grace to the function, and swung over the polished floors in the arms of sweater-clad ball players and flannel-swathed cowboys.  Men from the diggings – the silver and lead mines on Cook’s Peak, the mines of the Burro and Black Mountains – threw aside the overalls and candle grease of the mines and returned to the civilization they had deserted for the delving for riches.  Old Indian fighters, rough riders who served with Roosevelt, bear hunters, cowpunchers, ball players, and citizens and merchants of the towns danced with more spirit than grace.

Chicago Tribune, April 3, 1899, page 6.

From left to right: Everitt, De Mont, Chance, Burns, Green, Ryan, Katoll and Connor. Chicago Inter-Ocean, April 2, 1899, page 11.

After leaving Hudson Hot Springs, the team rode off to Kansas City for a series of real baseball games against the Kansas City Blues of the Western League.  Coincidentally, the Kansas City Blues were regularly referred to by the alternate nickname, the “Cowboys.”

Chicago newspapers started using the new names for the Orphans even before the regular season started.


 RETURN OF BURNS’ ROUGH RIDERS.

The Chicago baseball team reaches Kansas City today after a month’s training among the cowboys of New Mexico.”

Chicago Tribune, April 7, 1899, page 4.                           

Newspapers started using the new names even before the regular season began.


Tom Burns’ rough riders, fresh from the plains of New Mexico, may not have had much practice at stick work, but it would be hard to convince the 3,000 spectators who were at the Exposition park today of this fact.  The Chicago players hit the ball as readily as if it had been twice the regulation size, making a total of twenty-five hits, of which one was a home run, and eleven were two-baggers.

Chicago Inter-Ocean, April 10, 1899, page 7.

A trend that continued in the regular season, even while mixing in their more familiar name, the “Orphans.”


The  Cowboys batted Powell in the third, but after Everitt and Demont had hit safe Burkett again broke through the crowd and caught Chance’s fly.

The Chicago Tribune, May 1, 1899, page 4.

The new name was suited to some double-meaning word-play when the Cowboys faced the Phillies.


The Cowboys continued their triumphal tour of the East today, and for the amusement of a thousand cranks roped and branded the Fillies – branded them with the score 6 to 1.

Chicago Tribune, June 1, 1899, page 4.

Logansport Pharos-Tribune, May 2, 1899, page 4.


 

The new names lasted late into the season.

Cowboys                                                      

 

Chicago Tribune, July 31, 1899, page 9.

Chicago Tribune, July 28, 1899, page 4.



Rough Riders

Chicago Inter Ocean, September 5, 1899, page 8.


Rancheros

 

Logansport Pharos-Tribune, July 7, 1899, page 8.


The Exiles were to have given the Rancheros a double boost at Chicago yesterday, but rain prevented the first game.  The Rancheros, however, did their duty in the second game, and shut the Exiles out, and by reason of the Pirates performing the same service for the Spiders in the Smoky City, the Chicagos once more find themselves in fifth place, but only by the narrow margin of two little points.  The Spiders, also, were to have played two games with Pirates, but rain put a stop to the second, for which the Rancheros probably have cause to feel thankful.

Logansport Pharos-Tribune, August 6, 1899, page 3.[vii]

 

Cleveland donated a couple of games to the Quakers while Chicago and New York divided the honors of the day evenly, the Rancheros taking the first game and the Giants the second.

Logansport Pharos-Tribune, September 13, 1899, page 16.

In 1900, the Orphans had a new manager, Tom Loftus, and a new spring training destination, Selma, Alabama.  The Chicago Inter-Ocean referred to the team as the “Rough Riders” shortly after they arrived.

Chicago Inter-Ocean, March 26, 1900, page 4.

In their first intra-squad exhibition game in Selma, the two teams were designated the “Colts” and the “Rough Riders,” in what appears to have been the last gasp of the “Rough Riders,” “Cowboys” or “Rancheros” era.  All three nicknames quickly vanished before the end of spring training, almost as quickly they had appeared a year earlier.

So if the Cubs ever need a new team nickname for any reason, they need look no further than “Rough Riders,” “Cowboys” or “Rancheros.”  Of the three, “Rancheros” seems the best option. 

Although the original “Rough Riders” may have freed Cuba from Spanish oppression, some might argue that they merely swapped out one form of oppression for another.  The “Cowboys” name is perhaps too closely associated with another city (Dallas) and another sport (football) to find a home in baseball. 

“Rancheros,” on the other hand, would make a fine throwback name, and would also be appropriate for Hispanic Heritage Month, in place of the more conventional “Los Cubs” jersey or the like. 

 “Reconcentrados” and “Cannibals” are more problematic as team names, throwback or otherwise.



[iii]  “Faywood Hot Springs, a rustic natural geothermal resort in southwestern New Mexico, has many outdoor public and private soaking pools for those who wish to partake of its healthful and rejuvenating mineral water baths. There are separate clothing-required, clothing-optional (naturist)pools and private and group bathing areas. There are tent sites for camping, pull through RV (recreational vehicle) sites with full hook ups, and private cabins for overnight lodging accommodations.”  https://faywoodhotsprings.com/ .  Die-hard Cubs fans can book a stay to relive some Chicago baseball history.

[iv] El Paso Herald, January 31, 1899, page 4.

[v] Note: “House of Comfort” is the English translation of the name of the hotel, “Casa del Consuelo.” It is not some euphemism for another sort of business frequently associated with the old West.

[vii] Note, the “Exiles” here refers to the Cleveland Spiders, who in 1899 set a record for futility that still stands today.  Before the season began, St. Louis and Cleveland exchanged virtually all of their players, sending St. Louis’ bad team to Cleveland and Cleveland’s good team to St. Louis.  Late in the season, Cleveland stopped playing home games and played all of their games on the road, making them, in effect, “Exiles.”  After a 7-0 start in their new home in St. Louis, the old Spiders became known as the Perfectos; one season later, they became the “Cardinals,” named for their deep red uniform color, a color they brought with them from Cleveland. 

Tuesday, January 12, 2021

Tigers and Bulldogs and Gators, Oh My! - a History of the University of Florida's "Gator Bait" Cheer

Charlotte News (North Carolina), October 23, 1947, page 29.

  

What do we eat, what do we eat?

   Husky meat! Husky meat!

What do we drink, what do we drink?

   O-o-o-o-l’ – wine!

 

That was the cheer that went up from the stands when the Decorah Vikings played the Oelwein Huskies in Northeast Iowa Conference high school football in the 1960s and ‘70s.  It was a little gruesome, perhaps, but all in good fun, and in keeping with a healthy competitive rivalry between the two towns.

A better known cheer with a similarly “gruesome” theme is used at the University of Florida.  Their teams are known as “Gators” and opponents are called “Gator Bait,” potential victims of the Gators’ “Chomp.” 

The “Gator Bait” cheer made headlines in June of 2020 when the President of the university banned the use of the cheer by “University Athletics and the Gator Band.”  Despite finding “no evidence of racism associated with our ‘Gator Bait’ cheer at UF sporting events,” he banned the cheer because of “horrific historic racist imagery associated with the phrase” in other contexts.[i] 

The expressions “alligator bait” and “gator bait” were once widely used to refer to young black children, and sometimes black people, generally, although there was always some non-race-specific usage as well.  There is a debate as to whether the expressions related to actual, historic alligator hunting practices.[ii] 

Many Florida fans objected to the ban, because they had never heard of or used the expression in its archaic, racist sense.  Proponents of the continued use of the cheer included Lawrence Wright, who played for the Gators in the 1990s, and who “famously uttered the phrase, ‘If you ain’t a Gator, ya Gator bait, baby,’ after a 1995 win over Florida State at The Swamp.”[iii]

“It’s not about what happened way back in the past. . . .  I created something for us.  It’s a college football thing.  It’s not a racist thing.  It’s about us, the Gator Nation. And I’m Black.”

Lawrence Wright, quoted in, “Lawrence Wright Disagrees with Fuchs’ Decision to Drop “Gator Bait” Cheer, Pat Dooley, Gatorsports.com, June 18, 2020.

Most discussions, pro or con, about the “Gator Bait” cheer focus on recent use of the cheer, without any historical context.  Some commentary assumes that Lawrence Wright coined the expression in 1995.  Others acknowledge that Wright revived an earlier tradition, but without any serious attempt to the explore the extent of the tradition.

The characterization of University of Florida’s opponents as “alligator bait” or “gator bait” is nearly as old as the school’s nickname itself.  The earliest known example describes the University of South Carolina as “alligator bait” in 1912.  Coincidentally, Florida earned its nickname, originally the “Alligators,” in a game against the University of South Carolina one year earlier.  For a full history of the origin of the nickname, see “Why the University of Florida are ‘Gators,’” Early Sports ‘n’ Pop-Culture History Blog.[iv]

In the early days, references to Florida opponents as “alligator bait” or “gator bait,” were few and far between, with only a handful appearing during the 1910s and ‘20s.  There is a single report of Florida students taunting an opposing team with the expression, “alligator bait,” in 1939, multiple reports of the “Gator Bait” chant in the late-1940s, and it had become an established tradition at University of Florida football games by the 1950s.

Fans and students used the cheer without much resistance for at least eight decades before coming under fire in 2020.  Long before the “Gator Bait” cheer became a regular feature of games, opponent-eating imagery had been an established feature of sports reporting for at least five decades, with team mascots figuratively eating or biting opponents’ mascots on a regular basis.

 

Opponent-eating Imagery in Sports

Opponent-eating sports imagery, like eating and drinking the Oelwein Huskies, or eating or being eaten by alligators, has continued unchanged since at least as early as 1899.

Leading the way as they have in so many areas of human endeavor, were the Ivy League schools like the Princeton Tigers and Yale Bulldogs, who established some of the oldest college rivalries.   Early examples skirted around the eating the issue, referring simply to the fierce nature of their mutual mascots and baiting opponents; later examples evolved into mutual eating or biting.

Yale is not a little uneasy about her game with Princeton this year.  There are some rousing big tigers on Nassau’s line and the Yale bulldogs may get in trouble.

Philadelphia Inquirer, September 27, 1893, page 3. 

Princeton is nothing if not foxy, and Yale is not a goose to swallow the tigers’ bait and rest easy until Saturday.

The Boston Globe, November 23, 1899, page 5.

[Yale] sailed into the husky striped eleven as if the Tiger meat was their favorite article of diet and they had been fasting for a month.

The Pittsburgh Press, November 13, 1904, page 18.

 

With a Yale bulldog embalmed on a Chinese catafalque, which will be carried by 32 men, the annual Princeton alumni parade at the baseball game with Yale on Saturday is planned to be as big and spectacular an affair of the kind as ever held in Princeton. . . .

Princeton’s aquatic victory over Yale will be shown in floats.  Tigers will roam the field and eat bulldogs of blue.  There will be many undertakers.

Central New Jersey Home News (New Brunswick, New Jersey), June 9, 1911, page 11.  

Similar imagery spilled over into other rivalries.


 St. Louis Post-Dispatch, October 23, 1909, page 8.

It has been some years now since [Harvard] Crimson flesh was Bulldog meat.

The Wilmington Morning Star (Wilmington, North Carolina), September 4, 1913, page 2.

[T]he day after Colgate entertained Yale, another Yale song appeared which proclaimed in strident notes that “the Bulldog would dine on Tiger meat and dine on Crimson flesh” – or phrases to the same general effect.

The Bulldog, of course, may yet dine on Tiger meat and Crimson flesh, but if so, he is liable to absorb a bad case of indigestion, after the lean diet he has drawn these last six weeks.

The Washington Times (District of Columbia), November 14, 1913, page 15.

The famed sportswriter, Grantland Rice (who popularized the expression “it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game”[v] and coined the expression, “The Four Horsemen of Notre Dame,”[vi] to describe Notre Dame’s 1924 backfield) used mascot-eating imagery in at least two football poems.

Testimonial.

(As presented by a Mr. Eli Yale)

 

I recommend, for all your ills,

Old Doctor Shevlin’s Rah-Rah Pills . . .

 

My pulse was low – I could not eat,

And chills were raging at my feet,

But now I’m back upon the track

And building up on Tiger meat. . . .

 

New York Tribune, November 17, 1915, page 13.

The Yale of Other Days.

(A Blue Monday Founded on the Kiplingesque.)

 

Beneath the Crimson banners’ shade,

When punts begin to fly –

I sit me down to watch, alas, another

Bulldog die;

Blood-red I see the Crimson charge

Sweep onward through the haze,

Sainted Diana – can that be the Yale

Of other days?

Ah – shades of Shevlin, Hinkey, Thorne,

Kilpatrick, Blass and Brown –

When Crimson flesh was Bulldog meat

And Tiger skins were down;

When play by play we swept the field

And down the goal-spun ways

We saw the blue flag wave above the

Yale of other days. . . .

 

Nashville Banner, November 21, 1916, page 10.

Throughout the same period, professional baseball used similar imagery.  In 1901, for example, an apex predator was paradoxically food for beaneaters.[vii]

 “Tigers Food for Boston,” The Journal and Tribune (Knoxville, Tennessee), June 16, 1901, page 2.

That same apex predator, in turn, swallowed Milwaukee’s Brewers, where others might have satisfied themselves with drinking their beer.

The Tigers swallowed the Brewers without even waiting to remove their uniforms. 

Detroit Free Press, July 1, 1901, page 4.

Things were no different in the California League in 1912, when the surprisingly vegetarian Vernon Tigers devoured the Oakland Oaks.

The San Francisco Call, July 25, 1912, page 15.


 When the Kansas Jayhawks faced the Missouri Tigers in an outdoor track meet in 1912, the Kansas Jayhawkers were “tiger ‘meat’” (meat for the tiger, as opposed to meat of the tiger).

Columbia, Mo., May 11. – The Jayhawker was vanquished.  The Missouri-Kansas annual outdoor track meet held on Rollins Field this afternoon was turned into Tiger “meat.”  Self satisfied and content with seven firsts and four “slams,” the jungle beast now licks his chops in glory.

The Kansas City Star, May 12, 1912, page 11.

 

Alligator Bait - Sports

Such imagery was a natural fit for the University of Florida Alligators.  Although “alligator bait” appeared in print as the name of a Florida opponent as early as 1912, the first full season in which their teams were known as “Alligators” or “Gators.” 

The earliest example of “alligator bait” in conjunction with the University of Florida football team is from a game in which it didn’t even play.  In an account of a game between Clemson and the University of South Carolina, South Carolina was referred to as “Alligator Bait” due to a loss, two weeks earlier, to Florida.


With four thousand persons watching the University of South Carolina eleven run the Clemson Tigers to earth for the first time in ten years and on college campus tonight the football squad reigns supreme. . . . This game put the University of Florida above the Tigers as the Alligators defeated the Gamecocks on the 19th 10 to 6.  The Florida boys will play Charleston College Saturday and figure on making a “killing.”

The Tampa Tribune, November 1, 1912, page 6.

And even when the word “bait” was not used, Florida was frequently described as eating or biting its opponents.

The main trouble of the Tampa team was that there was only one Hopkins, whereas opposed to him were eleven husky Alligators, bellowing all the time for more meat, with a hunger which apparently was never satiated.

The Tampa Times, December 23, 1912, page 11.

And again the Florida ‘gators [baseball team] swallowed the Mercer university team in three mouthfuls when these ambitious Baptists tried to invade the element of the Florida Alligators, making a clean sweep of the series of three games.

Tampa Times, March 28, 1913, page 8.

“Alabama Good ‘Gator Meat,” The Tampa Tribune, October 15, 1916, page 9.

The earliest known example of the short-form, “Gator Bait,” used for a University of Florida opponent appeared in a baseball context in 1920.  It is the last such example I have identified before earliest report of the student cheer in 1939.

Georgia Tech has already been closed for a game and negotiations are now under way to include Auburn in the list of ‘Gator bait, but this latter game has not yet been guaranteed.

The Tampa Tribune, March 7, 1920, page 12.


 “Florida Gator to Open Jaws for Baffling South Carolina,” Tampa Tribune, October 29, 1921, page 6.

 

“Florida’s Gators Open Their Jaws and Gobble Tiger,” Tampa Tribune, December 3, 1922, page 10.

 

Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, North Carolina), September 9, 1926, page 14.

When bait bites back, turnabout was fair play.  On occasion, their opponents would feast on “gator meat.”

Southern College[viii] looks forward to its next chance to get “gator meat.” About Thanksgiving game the following season.

Tampa Tribune, January 22, 1916, page 8.

In 1916, the Tennessee Volunteers turned the tables, collecting “alligator” or “gator” hides, while avoiding becoming “alligator bait.”

With an alligator hide swinging at each warrior’s belt the victorious eleven of the University of Tennessee football squad will make a triumphal entry into their home camp this afternoon. . . . Some dopesters consigned the Vols as alligator bait to the Florida bullies but adherence to the policy of preparedness resulted in a successful “hunt” and the possession of a number of Gator hides attest their achievement.”

Journal and Tribune (Knoxville, Tennessee), October 30, 1916, page 4.

 

Atlanta Constitution, November 14, 1920, page 3.

It was definitely announced that the University of Florida, which played Harvard this year, rather the Harvard scrubs, will come to West Point on next Oct. 6. Pointers like alligator meat just as well as midshipmen like the plebe class this year.

Evening Report (Lebanon, Pennsylvania), December 13, 1922, page 5.

Even fans in the state of Florida were not afraid of referring to their own team as meat.

 

Tampa Tribune, October 28, 1916, page 10.

 

Alligator Bait – a Cheer

In Florida students yelling “alligator bait” at an opposing team is from 1939, and the description of the event suggests that it was new, or at least that it was not yet a well known or common feature of University of Florida games.  In this case, however, the cheer was also counter-productive.

Florida students’ faces would be a bit on the rosy side if they knew their actions before Saturday’s game in Gainesville had a lot to do with snapping Tech out of a bad case of mental doldrums.

As the Jackets trotted on the field for their warm-up exercises, the ‘Gator student section let up a good-natured yell, jibing the Jackets with such uncomplimentary phrases as “Alligator Bait.”

Coach Alex, who said on the train that morning that his team wasn’t right and stood a good chance of getting licked, sat quietly by as this was going on but made a mental not of it.

FINAL PEP TALK

Just before the game started, his final pep talk sounded something like this: “Well,” he said, “I see they are calling you alligator bait. Now just think of it. Can you think of anything lower than that?” The Techs got to thinking about it and found out they couldn’t.  The more they thought about it the angrier they got. So they went out and took it all out on the Florida team to the tune of 21-7.

The Atlanta Constitution, November 27, 1939, page 15.

A Florida sportswriter referred to the University of Maryland Terrapins as “Gator Bait” a couple years later.

Maryland is none too strong this year and the Saurians are generally rated as being a better eleven than was the 1940 outfit, so all indications point to the Terps being just so much “Gator bait” next Saturday.

Fort Lauderdale News, October 14, 1941, page 8.

The earliest reference to what seems to have been organized chanting of “Gator Bait” appeared in 1946 following a game against the University of Miami.

Miami’s Hurricanes were the first team to take the field, amid the chant of “Gator Bait” by Florida rooters.

Tampa Bay Times, October 20, 1946, page 23.

A comment from the following season suggests that the chant grew organically from the students, and was not officially sanctioned by the school.

Fla.’s head cheerleader Bill Bracken made an earnest pre-game plea to the students not to air their usual chant of “Gator Bait, Gator Bait, Gator Bait,” when the Tar Heels team first came out on the field. . .  A request which was most emphatically ignored.

The Daily Tar Heel, October 28, 1947, page 2.

Within a span of a few short years, the chant would become a familiar part of University of Florida football games.

Kentucky . . . could very likely be “Gator Bait” as the students chant during Florida games.

Fort Myers News-Press, November 8, 1948, page 6.

Elsewhere around the campus and city, the famed Florida mascot “The Gator” was pictured in various ferocious postures, usually gulping a Tech Yellow Jacket.

Across the field, Florida’s student section was crammed full an hour before game time, as vigorous as usual.  When Tech appeared on the field, the students started the chant that makes the flesh of opponents crawl: “Gator Bait, Gator Bait. . . .”

The Miami News, October 23, 1949, page 9.  

 Miami News, November 19, 1949, page 1.

A freshman led the Hurricanes’ new mascot, a boxer pup up, and down the field and from the south stands came the familiar chant – “Gator bait” made famous by Florida rooters.

The Miami Herald, November 19, 1949, page 1.

A different report from the same game describes the cheer as “ancient” and “old,” suggesting that it mah have been older than the earliest known occurrences of it in print.

The ancient chant of “Gator Bait” was entirely inappropriate last night. 

There was no bait for the Gator.  The poor old saurian went hungry and cold. . . .

The Gator band and cheering section started its annual razz even before the game.  They kept the jeering up for most of the first quarter when the fans agreed that the Hurricanes were getting the worst of it.

But from this time on, there was no chant of “Gator Bait” from the saurian section.  The old chant, that in the past had nearly driven Miami fans to a frenzy, didn’t have an opportunity to stand on and it wasn’t heard any more.

The Miami News, November 19, 1949, page 12.

Regardless of how ancient the cheer was, “everyone” was “familiar” with it by 1951. And once again, the cheer was not effective.

Everyone is familiar with the “Gator Bait” cry sent up in terrific volume by Florida students when the rival team trots on the field before a game and at half time. . . The kids have come up with something of a new wrinkle now by shouting “Gator Bait” in unison after member of the opposing eleven’s lineup is announced over the loud speaker . . . It didn’t scare the Yellow Jackets unfortunately . . . .

Orlando Evening Star, October 2, 1951, page 6.

Gator Bait, University of Florida’s famed battle cry, is the name given a young Florida-bred race horse which Donald (Buddy) Rose of Ocala, a Florida student, will race next Winter at Hialeah.

The Tampa Tribune, July 13, 1952, page 22. 

 

Alligator Bait – an Idiom

The expression “alligator bait,” and less frequently, “gator bait,” existed as an infrequent idiom referring primarily to black children, and at times black people, generally, since at least the 1890s.  The expression became widely known and used beginning around the turn of the century, thanks in large part (apparently) to the success of a photographic print of several naked, black babies and toddlers, and its variants, knock-offs and imitators. 

Since fans and sportswriters of the era would have been familiar with the pejorative sense of the word.  It therefore cannot be ruled out that when used to characterize an opponent, they may have intended it as a racial epithet, akin to referring to someone as the n-word.

But the pejorative sense of the expression was not the only sense, and not every use of the expression was intended an insult or racial epithet.  The phrase was still used literally, for bait used in alligator hunting, and figuratively for anyone at risk of being eaten by an alligator.  The expression was also consistent with other non-racist, sports-related imagery; Bulldogs or Tigers might eat their opponents, and Yellow Jackets or Gamecocks might feast on Alligator meat. 

It is not clear to what extent, if at all, the use of “alligator bait” or “gator bait” by Florida fans or sportswriters in connection with University of Florida athletics during the early-1900s conveyed, or was understood as conveying, racist meaning or intent.  And regardless of how widespread the use of “gator bait” as an epithet may have been in the early 1900s, its use had diminished to a large extent by mid-century when the cheer became a regular feature at their games.

An anecdote told by the St. Louis Cardinals’ Hall-of-Fame pitcher, Bob Gibson, illustrates that the expression was not in widespread, common use during the 1940s and ‘50s.  Gibson, a black man born in 1935, was born, raised and attended college in Omaha, Nebraska.  Shortly following graduation in 1957, he signed a minor league contract with Omaha Cardinals of the American Association, a Triple-A minor league affiliate of the St. Louis Cardinals.  In August of that year, he was sent down to the Cardinals’ A team in Columbus, Georgia. 

In an interview given in 1968, Gibson said that he had never heard the term “alligator bait” until he played in Columbus, Georgia, where one particular fan heckled him with the phrase.  And when he first heard it he just thought it was funny.  Only later did he learn that it was a racist insult.  

The Gibson anecdote may only demonstrate that “gator bait” was a regionalism, known in the South, but not the Midwest.  But the expression also had other, presumably non-racist uses, even in the South.  “Gator Bait,” for example, was the title of one of the (presumably white) officers of the Florida Club of the University of North Carolina, a club of students from Florida who were enrolled at the school in 1914.[ix] Several decades later, the Gator Bowl Queen of 1963 was approvingly referred to as “Gator Bait,” presumably because she attracted the Florida Gators on the football team.

Miami Herald, December 1, 1963, page 5.


 


 



[ii] Evidence of the supposed hunting practice is thin.  The earliest, widely cited reference in support of the historic truth was written by a military humor cartoonist, and the most widely cited reference in support was written by a self-proclaimed “sex philosopher” who wrote other hoax “news” items.  For a full history of the racist use of the phrase and survey of the purported evidence of the supposed hunting practices, see Early Sports ‘n’ Pop-Culture History Blog’s earlier post, “Live Human ‘Alligator Bait’ – Fact or Fiction?”  https://esnpc.blogspot.com/2020/04/live-human-alligator-bait-fact-or.html    

[v] “Grantland Rice, Josh Billings and Arthur Schopenhauer – the Win-or-Lose History of ‘How You Play the Game,’” Early Sports ‘n’ Pop-Culture History Blog, April 9, 2015. https://esnpc.blogspot.com/2015/04/grantland-rice-josh-billings-and-arthur.html

[vi] “From Stuhldreher to Castner and Crowley to Staubach – a Last-Second History of the ‘Hail Mary Pass,’” Early Sports ‘n’ Pop-Culture History Blog, February 23, 2018. https://esnpc.blogspot.com/2018/02/from-stuhldreher-to-castner-and-crowley.html

[vii] “Beaneater” here is used in the generic sense of someone from Boston, not as the name of the team involved in the game.  Boston’s American League team, the subject of the article, were then, as now, the Red Sox – the National League team were more commonly known as the “Beaneaters.”

[viii] “Southern College” refers to the school now known as Florida Southern College, which was then located in Sutherland (now Palm Harbor), and which has since moved to Lakeland, Florida.

[ix] The Daily Tar Heel (Chapel Hill, North Carolina), December 10, 1914, page 1 (“The following officers were elected: . . . M. Kanner, Chief Custodian of the Gator; D. H. Killeffer, Gator Bait . . . .”).