Before the Boston Red Sox won the World Series in 2004, Red Sox fans talked about something called The Curse of the Bambino, as if it was a real thing. Chicago Cubs fans talked about a billy goat and Bartman, and various other sports organizations’ fans developed their own myths for why the guys on their team couldn’t defeat the guys on the other team. No myth, in my lifetime, would prove as popular, or as profitable, as the The Curse of the Bambino however. Most people who watched baseball know of the sale of the greatest athlete of his generation, Babe Ruth, from the Red Sox to the Yankees, and it might be the one myth that has any merit, albeit in the short term.

At the point of sale, the Red Sox won five World Series, and the New York Yankees hadn’t won one yet. After the sale of Babe Ruth in 1920, and up until 2004, the Yankees won 26 World Series and the Red Sox didn’t win any. More important to this myth, the Yankees won four World Series between 1920 and 1932, with Babe Ruth, and the Red Sox weren’t even in contention. As anyone who knows anything about sports knows, winning breeds winning, and the Yankees went on an unprecedented run between 1936 and 1962 that some Red Sox fans attributed to the sale of Babe Ruth.

Was it a mistake to sell Babe Ruth, or do we fail to understand the logistics of the time? Most of us have experienced a bout of insomnia after making a crucial mistake, but how many of us have made a mistake so crucial that we couldn’t shake it? Most of us are blessed with a short-term memory, and we forget. We’ve all made mistakes though. We’ve made errors in judgment based on uninformed choices, and dumb decisions that seemed so right at the time. Most of us are able to move on in life, even after making decisions we deemed catastrophic at the time. Most of us have never made a decision, or series of decisions, that proved so catastrophic that people will be talking about them nearly one hundred years from now. Most of us have never had others characterize our mistake as one of the worst in human history. Other than those decisions made by the players involved in the Black Sox Scandal, there might only be one person, in baseball, who continues to be mocked, ridiculed, and derided over one hundred years after he made a series of historically poor decisions.

Harry Herbert Frazee (June 29, 1880 – June 4, 1929) was an American theatrical agent, producer, and director, and he remained relatively successful in this field until the day he died. He also happened to be a successful boxing promoter who once landed one of heavyweight champion Jack Johnson’s matches. Harry Frazee then bought the 1915 and 1916 World Series champion Boston Red Sox, who won the 1918 World Series for him. After that World Series, Frazee sold a player who helped the Sox win those three World Series championships and the 1912 World Series championship. That error in judgement might’ve haunted any other normal man, but it was only the start for Harry Frazee. He proceeded down this road, selling and trading almost all of the best players on those teams. Yet, for all of those moves, and the successes of Harry’s life outside baseball, many believe his tombstone should read, “Here lies Harry Herbert Frazee, the man who sold Babe Ruth.”

Most writers love to write provocative articles from an angle no one has ever considered before. We enjoy taking a well-known story and providing a non-traditional angle on a story that opens our readers eyes to “the other side”. The other side of the story we now call The Curse of the Bambino involves a suggestion that the conditions surrounding Harry Frazee’s sale of Babe Ruth to the Yankees were a lot more complicated than most people know. The author of such a provocative article is then obligated to back up his assessment with data that supports his thesis. This thesis becomes more provocative when the author can provide data that most people don’t know.

The Curse of the Bambino, the book, suggests that the sale of Babe Ruth from the Red Sox to the New York Yankees prevented the Red Sox from winning the World Series from the point of sale in 1920 to the publication date of Dan Shaughnessy book of the same name in 1990 (the Red Sox finally won the World Series in 2004). Some of the authors, who attempted to write the other side of the sale of Babe Ruth and eight other players from the Red Sox to the Yankees, looked at the data from a baseball perspective, others chose a financial lens, and some had slide show presentations that suggest while history will never judge Harry Frazee kindly, the reactions to his sales and trades were evenly divided among fans and sportswriters at the time.

Anytime an author suggests a matter is far more complicated than we ever knew, our natural inclination is to weed through their narrative to find simple truths. One simple truth that permeates all of the articles written on this topic is that Harry Frazee made historical mistakes, and those mistakes led to the Yankee dynasty of the 1920’s and the early part of the 1930’s.

Another simple truth that is all but impossible to ignore is that the Red Sox won three World Series in four years before the sales and sale/trades, and they finished no higher than fifth in the thirteen years following the sales/trades. Other than a blip in 1925, a year in which Babe Ruth was injured, the Yankees finished no lower than third in their league, and they won seven pennants and four World Series championships over the same thirteen-year period, following the trades and sales. Another fact that’s impossible to ignore in all of the data is that among all the players involved, there were three people most responsible for this shift in the balance of power, Babe Ruth of course, Harry Frazee, and former Boston Red Sox manager-turned-New York Yankee business manager (general manager) Ed Barrow. 

Those of us who enjoy reading authors take those simple truths and attempt to provide another perspective on them, enjoyed the article written by Glenn Stout titled Harry Frazee. In this article, Stout writes that The Curse of the Bambino, and the subsequent demonization of Harry Frazee, was largely a myth created by writers to help Boston Red Sox fans explain their team’s disastrous loss to the Mets in the 1986 World Series. The thesis of the The Curse of the Bambino was there was no other way to describe that inexplicable loss. Stout writes that 1986 Red Sox fans were looking for someone to explain the inexplicable to them. They wanted a scapegoat, and they found one in Harry Frazee. His actions, over sixty years prior, allowed them to think there was more going on than some clutch hitting by the Mets, and an error in game six of the series that led to the Red Sox defeat that year. It was, of course, the ghost of Babe Ruth haunting them.

Stout writes that Harry Frazee was not a greedy owner who wanted money more than a successful franchise. He writes that Frazee was independently wealthy from an early age, and he died that way. He also writes that Frazee was a wealthy and successful man before and after the trades that depleted the Red Sox and built the Yankees eventual dynasty. He writes that when Frazee died, a majority of the fan base, a majority of the sportswriters, and a majority in baseball didn’t hold him singularly responsible for the fall of the Red Sox. He states that while history might make Frazee appear incompetent, the reality of the situation that occurred during the 1920-1923 period was a lot more complicated than most people know.

To illustrate his point, Stout wrote a book with Richard A. Johnson called Red Sox Century, in which they provide a note Harry Frazee wrote to explain that the sale of Babe Ruth was based on Ruth’s contractual demands, and “[Ruth’s] disruptive influence on the team, and the fact that [Ruth] had “jumped the club” at the end of the 1919 season.” In the book, they also provide Frazee’s frustrations with The Bambino:

“While Ruth without question is the greatest hitter that the game has seen,” Frazee wrote in a 1,500-word statement. “He is likewise one of the most inconsiderate men that ever wore a baseball uniform.”

The Red Sox owner said Ruth had “no regard for anyone but himself” and was a “bad influence on other and still younger players on the team.”

He continued: “A team of players working harmoniously together is always to be preferred to that possessing one star who hugs the limelight to himself. And that is what I’m after.”

The sale of Ruth aside for a moment, Glenn Stout attempts to defend the fire sale of the other eight players by writing that the minor leaguers the Red Sox received in those subsequent trades didn’t pan out, as some of them suffered career-ending injuries.

Injuries are a part of the game, of course, and they can make owners and General Managers look bad when they make deals for players who were injured so early in their careers that they appear anonymous to history. This attempt to defend Frazee is valid, until one asks the question how many minor league prospects end up reaching their full potential? How many minor league prospects weren’t as talented as scouts projected, how many were unlucky with injuries, and how many simply didn’t have the drive to pursue their talent to its fullest extent? Whatever that answer is, it surely pales in comparison to the prospect of whether or not the players who played a primary role in at least one World Series victory if not three, might succeed. Stout does not specifically address this particular idea in his defense of Frazee.

Stout also writes, “no one could know that Babe Ruth would become Babe Ruth”. Fair enough, but at the point of sale in 1919, Ruth played six seasons for the Red Sox, and in that brief span, he set the record for home runs in a season twice, and he led the league in eight different batting categories in 1919, the year before Frazee sold him. He was also a dominant pitcher early in his career, before he switched to hitting. 

As one of his peers, Rube Bressler said in his interview for the book The Glory of Their Times “[Ruth] played by instinct, sheer instinct. He wasn’t smart, he didn’t have any education, but he never made a wrong move on a baseball field. He was like a damn animal. He had that instinct. [Animals] know when when it’s going to rain, things like that. Nature, that was Ruth!” 

Stout’s point that Frazee couldn’t know Ruth would be one of the top five players of all time is valid, but it sounds like if Frazee wanted to know the potential The Babe had to be great, all he had to do was ask around. Some of those who provide an alternative view of this story suggest that Frazee saw how undisciplined Ruth was, and how unintelligent he was, and he figured that Ruth’s 1919 season was a peak performance, and he wanted to receive peak value for his services.

Stout, and numerous others, state that the previous owner of the Red Sox was calling in Frazee’s loan, and that Frazee was in a tight spot financially. If Frazee didn’t pay the loan back that year, he might have lost the franchise. Yet, Stout and others assure us Frazee was never personally broke and none of the sales between the Yankees and Red Sox involved Frazee’s attempts to enrich himself personally. If that’s the case, and I appreciate the author’s attempt to dispel this notion, I cannot understand the deals Frazee made with the Yankees following the Ruth sale. If those latter deals involved Frazee’s continued efforts to save his franchise, one would think he might dip into his considerable personal finances and help the Red Sox over a temporary blip. I prefer to think, as Daniel R. Levitt, Mark Armour, and Matthew Levitt write, that Frazee became addicted to making deals with the cash rich Yankees to help him resolve the Red Sox short-term debts and help make the Red Sox franchise more profitable for him.  

Those of us who know history, cannot put blinders on. No matter how many alternative “time and place” perspectives various writers put before us, we know that Frazee sold Ruth for money, and no matter how much money he received from that sale, it paled in comparison to the money Ruth would’ve eventually generated for Frazee, and the Red Sox, in the coming years. Stout’s argument that, “no one could’ve known that Babe Ruth would’ve become Babe Ruth” is a decent one when we think about how many could’ve been should’ve beens dot baseball history, but Frazee received $100,000 and a loan of $300,000 from the Yankees for the services of Babe Ruth.

At this point, and I think this is crucial to determining how Frazee sold Ruth to the Yankees, we can speculate that this wasn’t the initial offer from the Yankees, and we can guess that Frazee and his people tried to drive that initial offer up by detailing for the Yankees Babe Ruth’s current, 1920 market value versus a detailed prospective forecast on Ruth’s future and marketable prospects to drive that price up further. We can speculate that in those dark room negotiations, Frazee and his people displayed intimate knowledge of Ruth’s current and future market value to persuade the Yankees to pay more for Ruth than any major league franchise had ever paid for a single player before. Other reports from baseball insiders of the day state that many around the league considered the Yankees fools for paying that much money for one player, and we can only guess that the Yankees initially considered Frazee’s proposed price tag insane, how did the Harry Frazee and his advisors convince the Yankees to pay that much?

Harry Frazee tried to feed into this with his explanation for selling Ruth, “With this money the Boston club can now go into the market and buy other players and have a stronger and better team in all respects than we would have had if Ruth had remained with us.” Sportswriters and fans believed this at the time, for they probably shared the sentiment that one man does not a team make. With the amount of money the Yankees were paying, many inside baseball thought Frazee got the better end of the deal, but no one could’ve predicted how addicted Frazee would become to using the Yankees’ money to escape debt. No one, it seems, except Ed Barrow.

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Authors Daniel R. Levitt, Mark Armour, and Matthew Levitt introduced this name Ed Barrow to us in an article titled Harry Frazee and the Boston Red Sox. Ed Barrow, they state, played a prominent role, perhaps the most prominent role, in the sales/trades the Red Sox made to the Yankees following the sale of Babe Ruth.

“[Glenn] Stout and [Richard A.] Johnson claim that Frazee made sound baseball deals with the Yankees and that he could not have foreseen what the trades would do for either club,” Daniel R. Levitt, Mark Armour, and Matthew Levitt write. “This argument does not hold up. Ed Barrow, manager of the Red Sox from 1918 through 1920, left the Red Sox to become general manager of the Yankees. Barrow knew the Red Sox players as well as anyone, and he spent the next few years grabbing all of the good players, like future Hall of Fame pitchers Waite Hoyt and Herb Pennock, catcher Wally Schang, shortstop Everett Scott, third baseman Joe Dugan, and pitchers Joe Bush and Sam Jones, among others. In fact[,] Barrow liked his former players enough that he got the Yankee owners to give Frazee $305,000, convincing evidence that both teams agreed that the talent [from the trades] was imbalanced. To argue that Frazee made good deals is to suggest both that Barrow and the Yankees somehow lucked into their dynasty and that the money was not the central piece of the deal for Frazee.”

In my opinion, the answer to the many questions we have regarding why Frazee sold so many players to the Yankees revolves around the question why Ed Barrow quit his job as Red Sox manager to become the business manager (general manager) of the Yankees? An answer to that question involves the insider information Barrow had about Harry Frazee, the debt the Red Sox were experiencing in those years, and how Frazee planned to resolve that debt.  

Before Ed Barrow left the Red Sox in 1921, we can assume that for most of his three year tenure, he was satisfied to be the Red Sox manager, and that if it were up to him he would’ve spent the rest of his baseball career as their manager. He led the Red Sox to the 1918 World Series championship after all. When Frazee sold The Babe, it probably came as a shock to Barrow, but we can guess that Frazee sat him down and explained to his manager why the sale was necessary. When Frazee sold four more players, we can guess that Barrow required a more detailed explanation, as Frazee opened the books for him to show the manager the finite details of the debt Frazee incurred as owner of the Red Sox. This moment, right here, resulted in the changing of the tide in baseball more than any other. We can be sure that Frazee and Barrow had many such talks over the years, and that Barrow walked away knowing that Frazee desperately wanted to make the Red Sox financially profitable, and/or he fancied himself a wheel and dealer who could build his own winner, as opposed to inheriting one. 

Ed Barrow also knew, as many did at the time, that due to the “Black Sox Scandal” and Frazee’s disputes with American League Bam Johnson and the other teams in the American League loyal to Bam that Harry Frazee was limited to dealing exclusively with the Yankees. (Note: There is a consensus among the writers of the articles I read on this particular topic that these circumstances forced Frazee to deal exclusively with the Yankees for that reason. The idea that Frazee and the Red Sox could have dealt with a team in the National League is not mentioned in any article I’ve found, and there is no reason listed for why this wasn’t a possibility for him.) Whatever the case was with Frazee, we can also presume that in his closed-door meetings with Barrow that Barrow saw the writing on the wall for the Red Sox franchise, and his owner’s willingness to sell his team down the river for large sums of cash.

As anyone who has experienced debt knows, if we find one way to resolve some of our debt, we are prone to follow that path wherever it leads to hopefully become debt-free. Barrow may have experienced some disgust when Frazee began selling his 1918 World Series Champions, but he was probably one of the few who knew the situation so well that when the Yankees general manager died in 1920, Barrow probably raced down to the Yankees front office to pitch them on how he, if hired as their next general manager, could persuade Frazee to sell more players to the Yankees and help them build a dynasty.

As the new business manager (later termed general manager) for the Yankees, Ed Barrow helped the owners of the Yankees engineer four subsequent trades with Frazee and the Red Sox that involved 12 players and $305,000 “to help Frazee recover from debt”. As the Levitts’ and Armour article suggests, the idea that Barrow convinced the Yankees to add $305,000 to the deal provides compelling evidence that both teams knew the Red Sox were getting the raw end of the deal. If we are to believe the writers who write from another perspective, it’s simplistic to say that Frazee made these maneuvers for the money, and “the reality of the situation was a lot more complicated than most people know”. If he didn’t need the money, as they write, and it was his goal in life to continue to own a profitable, winning major league baseball franchise, then he was either an incredibly poor business man, or someone who did not know baseball very well. Whatever the case was, Barrow knew who he was dealing with, and he knew how to convince Frazee to sell/trade twelve more players to the Yankees.  

When Barrow’s new team, the New York Yankees, won their first World Series two years later, in 1923, four of the eight starting, position players were from the Red Sox, and four of the five starting pitchers on that championship roster were former Red Sox players. The Red Sox finished last in the American League that year, and “their skeletal remains would be the doormat of the league for years to come.” With this team of former Red Sox players, Barrow would oversee the Yankees win six more pennants, and three more World Series. During his tenure as general manager, the Yankees would win a total of fourteen pennants and ten World Series. This level of success, initiated by Barrow’s maneuvers with Frazee, would lead many to call Barrow an “empire-builder for the first quarter-century of the Yankees’ dynasty.” These sales/trades also landed Ed Barrow in the baseball hall of fame and Yankee Stadium placed a plaque of him in center field.

As Harry Hooper, the center fielder for the ‘15,’16, and ’18 World Series champion Red Sox, states in an interview, in the book The Glory of Their Times, “The Yankee dynasty of the twenties was three-quarters the Red Sox [dynasty lineup] of a few years before. All Frazee wanted was money. He was short of cash and he sold the whole team down the river to keep his dirty nose above water. What a way to end a wonderful ball club.

“Sick to my stomach at the whole business,” Hooper added, as he followed Ruth’s hold out with a hold out of his own just to get out of Boston before it all came crumbing down. After the holdout, Frazee sold Hooper to the Chicago White Sox.

It would be devastating to any franchise, of any sport, to sell one of the top players of his era, who would go on to become one of the top five greatest players to ever play the game. Yet, even selling a once-in-a-generation talent like Babe Ruth is not enough to sink a franchise for eighty-four years, in the manner The Curse of the Bambino suggests. It’s even difficult to believe that Ed Barrow taking advantage of Frazee to the point of selling/trading twelve other players over the course of three years can curse a franchise for that long, but winning breeds winning. In the course of those eighty-four years (1918-2004), the Red Sox did have some high quality, competitive teams. Various Red Sox teams won division titles, pennants, and they competed for the World Series in 1946, 1967, 1975 and 1986 only to fall short. The Yankees, of course, would win 26 World Series championships in the same time-frame, and they would appear in 39 World Series. Many of those Red Sox teams were unlucky, but unlucky is difficult to grasp when it occurs over the space of eighty-four years and the score with their cross town rivals is 26-0 in World Series championships. Some people need an explanation, any explanation that would explain the bizarre plays and unlucky events that lead to a championship drought, and the 45% of the population who believe in ghosts thought they found that reason in Babe Ruth, Harry Frazee, and The Curse of the Bambino. Now that it’s over, and the Boston Red Sox soaked the curse for all that it was, what do Red Sox fans talk about now that the franchise has won the World Series four times since 2004?