This newsletter is slowly traveling through the Best 50. That’s my list of history’s 50 greatest ballclubs, as ranked by my new book, Baseball’s Best (and Worst) Teams. Today’s story focuses on No. 29, the 1924 Washington Nationals.
Here’s a quick boilerplate explanation that I’m appending to every story in this series:
I compiled the Best 50 by analyzing 2,544 major-league teams from 1903 to 2024. Those clubs have been ranked by their team scores (TS), which are plotted on a 100-point scale. (A given club’s all-time percentile is the percentage of the other 2,543 teams that it outperformed.)
See my book for an explanation of my TS calculations. The book also offers separate breakdowns of the best and worst clubs for every decade and franchise, comprehensive profiles of the Best 50 (including position-by-position lineups and much more information than you’ll find in this newsletter), and similar summaries of the 10 worst teams of all time.
Now on to today’s profile.
-
Team: 1924 Washington Nationals
-
Team score: 86.545 points
-
All-time rank: 29 of 2,544
-
All-time percentile: 98.90%
-
Season record: 92-62 (.597)
-
Season position: First place in American League
-
Final status: World champion
Mediocrity was the watchword in Washington, whose 24-year-old franchise had never come close to an American League pennant. The manager’s office seemed to need a revolving door. Four different men guided the Nationals between 1920 and 1923, and none finished higher than fourth place.
Clark Griffith, the team’s cantankerous owner, made yet another managerial move in 1924, and a strange one it was. He tapped Bucky Harris, the Nats’ 27-year-old second baseman. The new manager was younger than five of Washington’s everyday position players and three of its starting pitchers. Sportswriters immediately tagged Harris with a derisive nickname, Griffith’s Folly.
And yet the change gradually paid dividends. The Nationals were stuck at .500 as late as June 18, but they accelerated to a record of 66-36 (.647) the rest of the way. The schedule did the Nats no favors, sending them on an absurd season-ending odyssey, a 20-game road trip. But they locked down the pennant by going 14-6.
Get the complete lowdown on the 50 greatest (and 10 weakest) clubs of all time
John McGraw and his Giants were hardened veterans who were making their fourth straight World Series appearance. Bucky Harris and his Nationals were postseason neophytes. Yet the two clubs proved to be equally matched. They alternated victories in the first six games of the 1924 series — first New York, then Washington. Three of those contests were decided by a single run.
The Giants seized the advantage in Game Seven, taking a 3-1 lead into the bottom of the eighth inning. But fortune — a mild synonym for luck — intervened on Washington’s behalf. Bucky Harris slapped a ground ball that somehow bounded past New York third baseman Freddie Lindstrom, knotting the game at 3-3. A second grounder skipped over Lindstrom’s head in the 12th, allowing Washington catcher Muddy Ruel to race home with the series-clinching run.
A new installment will arrive in your email each Tuesday and Friday morning
The Nationals were associated in the public mind with a single player, Walter Johnson, widely hailed as baseball’s greatest (and fastest) pitcher to that point. “He’s got a gun concealed on his person,” columnist Ring Lardner laughed. “They can’t tell me he throws the ball with his arm.” Johnson entered the 1924 season with a career total of 354 wins in 17 seasons, all with Washington.
But the erstwhile ace was nearing the end of the line. Johnson had reached the ripe old age of 36, his arm had been sore for years, and he hadn’t won 20 games in any season since 1919. He privately decided that 1924 would be his farewell tour.
Spring training changed his plans. Johnson’s arm was suddenly pain-free — he had no idea why — and his fastball regained its zip. He would win the pitching Triple Crown in 1924 — leading the American League in wins (23), earned run average (2.72), and strikeouts (158) — and delay his retirement for three more seasons.
One of Johnson’s staffmates, Fred “Firpo” Marberry, was truly a pioneer, the first prominent reliever in big-league history. Marberry made 14 spot starts in 1924, but his true value lay in his 36 relief appearances. He was credited with a league-leading total of 15 saves.
Washington’s corner outfielders topped the AL in a pair of offensive categories: Goose Goslin with 129 RBIs and Sam Rice with 216 hits. Goslin was a free spirit who flouted managerial authority. “It was all a lark to me, just a joyride,” he later said of his career. Rice was a quieter man who adhered to the rules.
