Connie Mack

Connie Mack not only dressed like a Victorian gentleman, he behaved like one, too. Dignified and distinguished, with a reputation as stiffly erect as the high collars he favored, Mack was a churchgoing exemplar of traditional values in the morality-stretching 1920s. Which is why, 75 years ago today, he seemed so ill-suited in the role of public lawbreaker. On Aug. 22, 1926, the manager/co-owner of the Philadelphia Athletics sent his team onto the Shibe Park field in blatant violation of Pennsylvania's Blue Laws, the Colonial-era regulations that prohibited almost everything but church socials on Sundays.

It was an era when you could sit in the bleachers for 50 cents and watch baseball heroes with colorful names step up to the plate. There were "Shoeless Joe" Jackson, "Home Run" Baker and "Chief" Bender, for instance. As players with the Philadelphia Athletics, their talent led them to capture four pennants and three World Series titles in the span of five years. But it took more than talent, as a new exhibit at the Chester County Historical Society reveals through period photographs, paintings, artifacts and original film footage.

I HAD LEARNED at an early age that baseball was a business. So, when the nun asked our first-grade class how many boys wanted to see the Philadelphia A's win the World Series game being played that day in Shibe Park against Chicago, every boy's hand shot up in the air — except mine. Why did I want to see Chicago win? Because the Series would go an extra game and we would make more money. With the Phillies mired in last place, fans are criticizing the performance of the players and questioning decisions made by the organization.

Albert Lord Jr., at age 67, is planning to retire as chief executive officer of student loan giant SLM Corp., better known as Sallie Mae, where he has battled presidents and barons of Congress, college heads and student protesters, rival bankers. and other ferocious foes since 1981. He's left Sallie Mae twice before - once voluntarily, once not. Tough job? Even for a guy paid $7 million in cash and stock in 2011, the last year Sallie reported his income? Albert Lord knows tough.

ON A NIGHT when sports and politics went one-on-one, name recognition scored few points with voters. Linda McMahon, who once ran World Wrestling Entertainment with her husband, lost her U.S. Senate race in Connecticut - again. Connie Mack IV, who carries one of the most venerated names in baseball, was defeated in a bid for a Senate seat in Florida. George Allen, with familial links to the Washington Redskins past and present, also was blocked from the Senate. Ben Chandler, the grandson of former baseball commissioner Happy Chandler, was out of his U.S. House seat in Kentucky.

By John J. Rooney When I wake up in the middle of the night and have trouble getting back to sleep, I follow the advice of sleep specialists who recommend a vicarious walk through a familiar, pleasant scene. In my imagination, I find myself revisiting the section of North Philadelphia where I grew up - a rowhouse, working-class, Irish American neighborhood known as Swampoodle. I close the front door behind me, cross the porch, and descend the steps to 20th Street. Two versions of the scene come to mind.

Hubert H. Humphrey lost an election in Minnesota yesterday. Connie Mack was in a fight. And Gary Hart was trying to become President Reagan's man in Washington. The names may sound familiar, but these aren't the guys you may be thinking about. Humphrey, better known as "Skip," is the Minnesota state attorney general, son and namesake of the late senator and vice president. Humphrey tried to follow his father (and his mother, who held an interim appointment) into the U.S. Senate, but lost to Republican Sen. David Durenberger.

Although he was a Baltimore native and played for Boston and New York, Philadelphia had more than a bit part in the Babe Ruth story: MACK HAD DIBS When Jack Dunn had to sell off his stars to save his minor league franchise in 1914, he first offered Babe Ruth to Philadelphia A's owner Connie Mack. But Mack already was making plans to get rid of his own stars after the season. Ruth wound up with the Red Sox. WORLD SERIES DEBUT Ruth made his first World Series appearance in 1915's Game 1 at Baker Bowl (Broad and Huntingdon)

Connie Mack called him "mister," which sounds impressive enough - except that Connie Mack called just about everybody "mister. " Mack even called Ty Cobb - whom he considered the "dirtiest player in baseball" - "Mr. Cobb. " What's impressive is that Bill Campbell was covering sports in the mid-1940s when the legendary Cornelius McGillicuddy ("Mr. Mack" to you) was managing the Philadelphia Athletics. Campbell was a 22-year-old sports reporter for radio station WCAU who worked mostly nights.

Mack and the arts We're not sure how Connie Mack ended up as the debut subject of a new show on the humanities - unless, of course, frugality is an art. Anyway, Humanities Live premiers tonight on WHYY ARTS with a look at the legendary Philadelphia Athletics manager-owner. This story probably isn't included: According to author Norman Macht's new biography, in 1901 the A's notoriously thrifty owner suspected someone was stealing baseballs from Columbia Park's clubhouse. An incensed Mack ordered his ne'er-do-well brother Dennis to hide inside the clubhouse every night.

Albert Lord Jr., at age 67, is planning to retire as chief executive officer of student loan giant SLM Corp., better known as Sallie Mae, where he has battled presidents and barons of Congress, college heads and student protesters, rival bankers. and other ferocious foes since 1981. He's left Sallie Mae twice before - once voluntarily, once not. Tough job? Even for a guy paid $7 million in cash and stock in 2011, the last year Sallie reported his income? Albert Lord knows tough.

By John J. Rooney When I wake up in the middle of the night and have trouble getting back to sleep, I follow the advice of sleep specialists who recommend a vicarious walk through a familiar, pleasant scene. In my imagination, I find myself revisiting the section of North Philadelphia where I grew up - a rowhouse, working-class, Irish American neighborhood known as Swampoodle. I close the front door behind me, cross the porch, and descend the steps to 20th Street. Two versions of the scene come to mind.

ON A NIGHT when sports and politics went one-on-one, name recognition scored few points with voters. Linda McMahon, who once ran World Wrestling Entertainment with her husband, lost her U.S. Senate race in Connecticut - again. Connie Mack IV, who carries one of the most venerated names in baseball, was defeated in a bid for a Senate seat in Florida. George Allen, with familial links to the Washington Redskins past and present, also was blocked from the Senate. Ben Chandler, the grandson of former baseball commissioner Happy Chandler, was out of his U.S. House seat in Kentucky.

I HAD LEARNED at an early age that baseball was a business. So, when the nun asked our first-grade class how many boys wanted to see the Philadelphia A's win the World Series game being played that day in Shibe Park against Chicago, every boy's hand shot up in the air — except mine. Why did I want to see Chicago win? Because the Series would go an extra game and we would make more money. With the Phillies mired in last place, fans are criticizing the performance of the players and questioning decisions made by the organization.

By William C. Kashatus Andy Reid, who's been with the Philadelphia Eagles for 13 seasons, enjoys the longest tenure of any head coach among the city's professional sports teams. But his inability to win a Super Bowl, an antagonistic relationship with the local media, and the growing disenchantment of Eagles fans suggest that his days are numbered. Whether he can extend his career beyond 2013, when his contract expires, remains to be seen. Still, Reid could learn a few lessons from two legendary coaches, Connie Mack and Joe Paterno.

By Rich Westcott The Philadelphia Athletics are long gone and mostly forgotten. But thanks to interleague play, the Oakland Athletics are in town for a three-game series against the Phillies starting tonight. The unusual visit serves as a nostalgic reminder of a team that once held a special place among the city's professional sports franchises. In the distant past, Philadelphia had two major-league baseball teams. One, of course, was the Phillies, now a fixture in the city for 128 years.

This article was originally published Aug. 6, 1988 Moments occasionally arise when baseball owners are required to look not just at dollars but at sense, when immediate financial concerns have to be weighed against a club's long-term good. The Phillies' Bill Giles is in the midst of one these periods of angst now as he considers whether or not to renew Mike Schmidt's contract for 1989. And in the first week of July 1914, Philadelphia Athletics owner/manager Connie Mack was faced with such a decision.

Connie Mack was born nine days after the Battle of Fredericksburg ended, became the manager of the Philadelphia A's in the year Queen Victoria died, and was still managing them when Richie Ashburn and Robin Roberts were the Phillies' young stars. As The Inquirer noted amid the civic grief that followed his 1956 death, it was Mack, not Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Ted Williams or Joe DiMaggio, who was the face of baseball for Philadelphians throughout the first half of the 20th century. For generations, fans attending games at the 21st and Lehigh stadium that eventually bore Mack's name would gaze up at the cupola office where the old man tried his best to run a ballclub on limited resources.

Mack and the arts We're not sure how Connie Mack ended up as the debut subject of a new show on the humanities - unless, of course, frugality is an art. Anyway, Humanities Live premiers tonight on WHYY ARTS with a look at the legendary Philadelphia Athletics manager-owner. This story probably isn't included: According to author Norman Macht's new biography, in 1901 the A's notoriously thrifty owner suspected someone was stealing baseballs from Columbia Park's clubhouse. An incensed Mack ordered his ne'er-do-well brother Dennis to hide inside the clubhouse every night.

Johnny Callison, 67, the former Phillies rightfielder with the rifle arm, powerful bat, and Hollywood-handsome looks, died Thursday night at Abington Memorial Hospital after a long illness. He lived in Glenside, Montgomery County. Dianne Callison said her husband died of heart-related problems, which he had been battling for several years. Cancer of the mouth was diagnosed 1 1/2 years ago, and he underwent chemotherapy and radiation treatments, she said. He went into the hospital a week ago because of pneumonia.