He Shot the Ballplayers
Conlon captured the game like no one else
Bygone baseball by C. Philip Francis
As a lover of baseball are you tired of reading or hearing about sullen and sulky millionaire ballplayers? Are you delighted when you see, read, or hear about a happy player who really wants to play the game? Do you cringe just a little when you see a player wear an earring, or when they ignore little kids who are begging for autographs, or when they charge for their signatures? Of course there are many fine people who wear baseball uniforms, but if you have a yen for the old-timers they are easy to obtain. They are called Conlon cards where you can check out their stats and personal histories, and even collect these “boys of summer” of years ago, these men in baggy pants who played on real grass under a real sun, and who loved the game. All of this is available because of one man.
That man was Charles Martin Conlon who photographed and immortalized the baseball players of the past in an enthusiastic, admiring, and affectionate way, both the famous and not so famous, for almost forty years. Conlon was born in Albany, New York in 1868, and became a typesetter for the Troy (NY) Press newspaper before moving to New York City where he was a proofreader and photographer for the World-Telegraph. Conlon also loved baseball, and would spend his spare time at the three major league parks – Polo Grounds (Giants), Yankee Stadium (Yankees), and Ebbets Field (Brooklyn Dodgers). About 1905 the newspaperman met John B. Foster, a sportswriter and editor of the Spalding’s Official Baseball Guide, who asked Conlon to photograph the big league players who came to town. Those pictures appeared in Spalding’s Guide, The Sporting News, and his own newspaper.
The photographer would lug his heavy equipment to the stadium on his off days, and ask a player’s permission to take his picture. The men were generally cooperative, and as time went on Conlon became a familiar sight around the field and clubhouse with the men usually at ease and relaxed even when the camera came near.
With his Hasselblad and Speed Graflex cameras Conlon made over 8,000 negatives, most of them in glass, of his big leaguers from 1905 through 1942. On the back of his own Conlon card it reads, “He had he eye of an artist and the comprehensive understanding of sports, qualities he combined to produce the unique photos….” In 1991 former World-Telegraph sportswriter, Pat McConaugh, said of Conlon, “I never even knew he was interested in baseball.”
When Ty Cobb slid into third in that most famous and memorable photo, the shooter was not aware that he had even taken the picture. He was more concerned about Cobb’s sharp spikes coming into third base that could have easily injured his friend, Jimmy Austin. Charles went home disappointed knowing that he had missed a great opportunity. When the plate was developed he noticed that the shutter must have been accidentally tripped although the general public did not see the photo until much later.
Conlon’s many negatives were stored in his own home, and as space became a problem he discarded many of them. After retirement in 1942 Charles sold his complete collection of over 8,000 negatives to The Sporting News. They were placed in the magazine archives in St. Louis until 1991 when the photos were used for a new set of baseball cards called Megacards also known as Conlon Cards. Today they can be found at card shops and baseball card shows.
The original plan was to print the largest card set in history with a total of 3,300 cardboard items produced by the year 2000. Long before that year was reached the Megacards went out of business after printing some 1300 cards. Not only will you find the players’ records and personal histories there are many anecdotes such as the one found on the back of Max Butcher who pitched for the Dodgers, Phillies, and Pirates in the 1930’s and ‘40’s as related by Buddy Hassett:
“In Brooklyn we had Max Butcher. He was a pretty fair pitcher. Max’s eyes were always blinking, and the guys used to say that he pitched between blinks.
“In 1937 Burleigh Grimes was managing the club. We were playing an exhibition game and Burleigh was coaching first base. The steal sign was when he winked at us, he winks, we go. Then in the middle of the game he gets a long-distance phone call and has to leave the field. They put Max in to coach first base.
“Gibby Brack gets on. Gibby, Lord his soul, wasn’t the brightest guy in the world. He looks at Max whose eyes are blinking away, and Gibby lights out for second. He’s shot down by about fifteen feet, just as Grimes is coming back. Burleigh starts roaring. ‘Who gave that steal sign?’ And somebody says, ‘Nobody gave it, but look who’s coaching first base.’ And there’s big Max Butcher standing there, blinking away.”
A Conlon collector can enjoy such names as: Rogers Hornsby, Dizzy Dean, Rabbit Maranville, Mel Ott, Hank Greenberg, Paul Derringer, Baby Doll Jacobson, or Jimmy Austin trying to tag Ty Cobb at third in black and white. Author Ross Forman said of the long-time photographer, "Conlon captured the game like no one else…back in time to simpler days before artificial turf and the designated hitter.” Charles Martin Conlon died on June 3, 1945 in Troy, New York at the age of 77.