The Local Boys. Joe Heffron
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1898, Honest Jack’s career was winding down when it came to an abrupt halt, according to an article in the Cincinnati Commercial-Tribune that reported he was attacked from behind and stabbed in the shoulder while walking down the street in Cincinnati. Though we were unable to verify the story, he never appeared in the majors again. He served as a player-coach in the minors in 1905 in Toledo and the following year in Terre Haute.
At 40, he left baseball behind and opened a saloon. Some sources locate it downtown on 7th street, others in Price Hill, where he continued to reside. He died in 1913 in his home on Academy Avenue, close to Elder High School, of what was then called Bright’s Disease, a chronic kidney ailment.
The Reds made history in making the first ever Major League trade, but in dealing Boyle away they also made a big mistake.
CORNELIUS “NEAL” BRADY
MARCH 4, 1897–JUNE 19, 1947
Major League Career
1915; 1917; 1925
Time as a Red
1925
Position
PITCHER
BEING THE MOP-UP MAN ON THE 1925 REDS WAS A PRETTY BORING JOB because there wasn’t much mopping to do. The Reds boasted a brilliant pitching staff, led by Hall of Famer Eppa Rixey, Dolf Luque, and Pete Donohue. For three straight years (1923–1925) they led the National League in ERA; in 1925, Rixey and Donohue each won 21 games. So Neal Brady spent a lot of days that summer watching rather than pitching.
But he probably was happy just to be there—back in the majors after cups of coffee way back in 1915 and 1917. Not that he was an old-timer when he signed with the Reds. He’d gotten an early start.
Cornelius “Neal” Brady was born in Covington and grew up mostly in Ludlow. He attended St. Xavier High School, then located in downtown Cincinnati, and after graduation he signed with Dallas in the Class B Texas League, where he produced a spectacular first professional season. He won 20 games that year, and was nearly unhittable, posting a microscopic WHIP of 0.873. The Yankees apparently heard about the young phenom and signed him late in the season. He debuted on September 25 and appeared in two games, starting one, pitching 8.2 innings. If he was invited to spring training the following year, he didn’t make the team, likely suffering arm trouble because he threw just 70 innings that year at Class AA Toronto. In Dallas, he had thrown 382.2 innings—far too many for such a young pitcher—and may have burned out his arm. He definitely was never the same again.
He resumed a heavy workload the following season but was far less effective. The Yankees did bring him up to pitch a couple of games in 1917, including his first Major League victory—3–2 over Philadelphia. He then spent the next five seasons toiling in the American Association, posting mediocre numbers, perhaps suffering from a sore arm, given the way his innings totals plummeted in 1921 and afterward. By 1924, he had returned home and was pitching for Ludlow’s semipro team, a job he probably could have maintained while on the Reds staff the next season, given how little they needed him. Rixey, Luque, and Donohue finished as the National League’s top three in innings pitched that year.
He did make 20 appearances for the Reds, including three starts, but mostly worked in relief and not especially well. Though still only 28, his best years on the mound clearly were behind him. In 63.2 innings, he surrendered 73 hits and 20 walks while striking out only 12. Eight years after his first Major League victory, he did win his second one, beating the Cardinals 10–1 with a complete game. He finished the year 1–3 with a 4.66 ERA, and the Reds released him at the end of the season.
Brady then joined the Ludlow police department and continued to pitch amateur ball while staying active in local sports as both a player and a coach. For many years, he worked for Coca-Cola as a personnel manager, eventually settling in Ft. Mitchell, where he and his wife, Ida, raised two daughters. He also was president of the Summit Hills Golf Club. He suffered a heart attack in 1947 and died at the age of 50, leaving behind a what-might-have-been tale of young promise poorly managed by coaches who should have known better.
JIM BROSNAN
OCTOBER 24, 1929–
Major League Career
1954 – 1963
Time as a Red
1959 – 1963
Position
PITCHER
WHILE GROWING UP IN WESTWOOD, Jim Brosnan nurtured dreams of playing major league baseball and writing books. By the age of 30, he’d done both. Though he had a solid nine-year career in the big leagues, he’s best remembered for his classic books: The Long Season, about his travails in 1959, when he was traded to the Reds from the Cardinals, and Pennant Race, about the Reds’ 1961 National League championship season.
He presented a much more candid look at the lives of ballplayers than fans had seen before. At the time, books by ballplayers were ghostwritten, whitewashed tales that perpetuated the wholesome myths of The National Pastime, but Brosnan’s laconic wit and wry irreverence tipped a few sacred cows. In his introduction to a new edition of The Long Season, he comments, “I had violated the idolatrous image of big leaguers who had been previously portrayed as models of modesty, loyalty, and sobriety.” Wearing glasses and sporting a quirky, scholarly air, he was known among teammates as “Professor.”
He first drew attention from major league scouts while pitching for Elder High School and for the Bentley Post American Legion team that made it to the national finals in 1946, in part due to shutouts Brosnan threw in the sectional and regional finals. Future major league player and manager Don Zimmer and future major league manager Jim Frey also played on that team. Somehow the Cubs beat the Reds to signing Brosnan. Maybe the Reds had heard he was not your typical prospect.
The Cubs certainly learned that during his early years in the minors, one manager reporting to the parent club that Brosnan was a “lone wolf,” given to reading magazines in the dugout during games. He was drafted into the Army in 1951 during the Korean War but remained stateside. While at Ft. Meade in Maryland, he met Ann Stewart and they married, settling in Chicago and raising three children.
After struggling in 1954 for the Cubs, he came back in 1956 and performed well as both a starter and reliever for the next few years, earning an opening day start in 1958. Still, management felt that he wasn’t living up to his potential, that his eccentric nature undermined his competitive spirit. The Cubs traded him to St. Louis, where he also was seen as a player with too much intellect for his own good.
The Reds traded for him in 1959, but Brosnan says he didn’t feel sentimental about returning to his hometown. “I didn’t like it to start with because I was happy in St. Louis,” he says. “But it was a big break for me in the end because I got to play in a World Series.” While he admits to the boyhood dream of pitching in the majors, he adds “it didn’t matter which team.” As for donning the hometown colors, that didn’t mean much either: “By that time I had been in baseball for 10 years,” he says. “The uniforms all fit about the same way.”
He had his best years in Cincinnati, primarily as a reliever. Success in 1959 led to starting opening day in 1960, though he lasted just an inning and two-thirds, giving up four runs on four hits and walking three. With his usual candor, he says, “I don’t really remember much about it. I only remember that I was lousy.”
He ended up enjoying another strong season, and in 1961 he and Bill Henry gave the Reds a powerful bullpen tandem that helped win the pennant. In 80 innings, he posted a 10–4 record with 16 saves and a 3.04 ERA. He was nearly as good the following year, but after a slow start in 1963, the Reds traded him to the White Sox, who told him to stop writing. He refused. By then his articles were appearing in Sports Illustrated and other magazines, so he ended his baseball career. After retiring, he worked for a Chicago