New York mound artist Henry James, Jr., made baseball history in the first game of the 1910 season when he became the only pitcher ever to issue an intentional walk to the lead-off batter, Said James, "I prefer the extra complication."
In the second game of a double-header in Detroit in 1919, the Boston firstbase coach began pointing his finger at the mound and gesturing wildly as Detroit pitcher Frank Kafka started his delivery. The home-plate umpire went out to the mound to ask Kafka what the hell he thought he was doing. Kafka protested that he had not committed a balk. The umpire said that a balk was not the issue and ejected Kafka from the game. The following day, after a short inquiry conducted by the American League commissioner, Kafka was permanently suspended from organized baseball. The commissioner never disclosed the nature of Kafka's violation.
At the hour of twilight on a soft summer day toward the end of June in the year of Our Lord 1929, towering, barrel-chested St. Louis slugger Tommy Wolfe marched to the plate with the score, incredibly, tied in the bottom of the ninth inning and two outs. With a furious swing that thundered with the sound of a million bats hitting a million baseballs, Wolfe drove the ball high into the all-engulfing American sky. It seemed to take an eternity both for the left fielder to retrieve the exhausted baseball and for Wolfe to pursue, despite his rapid, loping strides, the always terrifying journey around the illimitable diamond. Then, for a reason that no one has ever completely understood, Tommy Wolfe stopped dead at third. "Home! Go home!" screamed a million voices. But Wolfe knew better. The next day he retired from baseball.