Recently came across an old book that I had bought when I was in grade school that has a bunch of short stories.
Thought I'd share one and if anybody would like to hear more I'd be willing to add them to this post.

 

The book is titled: STRANGE BUT TRUE BASEBALL STORIES and was written by Furman Bisher. Copyright was in 1966.

#1  Immortal By Accident
By the time he was nineteen years old, Stan Musial was playing his third season of pro ball as a pitcher for the Daytona Beach
Islanders in Florida. Although Daytona did not play the best kind of baseball, Stan was happy doing the thing he loved - pitching.
During his first 2 seasons in the minors Stan's wildness had held him back. At Daytona Beach, though, he had apparently found his control. By early August he had won seventeen games.
Then dawned what seemed to be the darkest day of Musial's life. His manager, Dickie Kerr, had discovered that Musial was also an effective hitter, and used him in the outfield many times when he wasn't pitching. On August 11, 1940, Musial was playing centerfield for the Islanders. He had pitched the night before.
With 2 out, a batter hit a sinking line drive in Musial's direction and he made a run for the ball. He had often made shoetop catches, then hit the ground doing an intentional somersault. He wasn't trying to show off, he felt it was the best way to protect his catch. He made the catch on the run and turned his usual somersault, but somehow he miscalculated. As he hit the ground he felt an awful pain in his pitching shoulder. He held on to the ball for the third out, but as he ran for the dugout he was clutching his shoulder. Dickie Kerr intercepted him near the third-base coaching box and asked if anything was wrong. Musial said it was only a slight pain that would soon go away. But it didn't. The shoulder ached all night as Stan fought to get to sleep. The next day he refused to tell Kerr that he was still in pain.
His turn came up to pitch two days later and he accepted his assignment without a murmer. The opponent was Sanford, a strong team. The shoulder ached as he warmed up, and ached as he pitched. He beat Sanford 5 to 4, but it was his last victory of the season. Musial started again a few days later against Orlando. There was no escaping the pain this time. It was more than he could bear. The Orlando team hit him hard and he had to leave the game early.
Here he was, a young pitcher from the steel-mill country with a wife expecting a baby and he himself had a bad arm. The situation looked hopeless to Musial. "Don't you think I ought to go home and find a job in the mills and forget baseball?" Musial asked Kerr the next morning. "Not yet, Stan" Kerr told his young player. He had developed a fondness for the boy, he had admired his good habits and his willingness as a player. Kerr had been a pitcher on the infamous Chicago Black Sox of 1919, the American League champions who sold out to the gamblers in the World Series, agreeing to lose to the Cincinnati Reds. Kerr was one of the players who remained loyal to his team. He had won 2 games from Cincinnati. As a result, he had particular respect for a young man with character as well as talent. Kerr told Musial that he was a good enough hitter to succeed even if his pitching arm didn't improve. To help the young player, Kerr invited Musial and his wife to live with him until their baby was born. The Musials moved in. When the baby was born they named him Richard Kerr Musial. Although the pain soon disappeared from Musial's shoulder, full strength never did return. By the end of the season he was able to play in the outfield again.
The Daytona Beach team was a farm club for the St.Louis Cardinals. When Musial's batting average rose to .311 he was invited to the Cardinals biggest minor league camp the next spring. He reported as a pitcher and worked with the pitchers until it became apparent that he could no longer compete because of his bad arm.
One day the head of the Cardinal organization, Rickey Branch, one of the most respected judges of baseball talent, came to watch the farm clubs play. Musial was in the outfield although he still registered on the camp roster as a pitcher. After watching him only once at bat, Rickey exclaimed, "That man's not a pitcher! He's a hitter!" Mr. Rickey soon learned that Dickie Kerr had already discovered Musial's hitting talent. Before the season ended, Musial was playing for the Cardinals. He moved rapidly through the minors from Daytona Beach to Springfield, Missouri, to Rochester, New York, and finally to St Louis. He batted .379 at Springfield and .326 at Rochester. For the Cardinals he batted an amazing .426. Musial retired after the 1963 season. He had led the National League in batting seven times, made 3,630 hits and 475 homeruns driving in 1951 runs and averaged .331 over a 22 season career.
Some of baseball's most exciting discoveries have been made by accident. Had it not been for that tumble he took on the night of August 11, 1940, one of the sport's greatest hitters might never have been found.
 

It's interesting to think if he'd have been a HOF pitcher had he not gotten hurt.  Seems with his bat, the switch may have been made anyway.

I remember that book! I also read Strange But True Football Stories.

Great story; thanx.

This is great stuff, bheid408.  Please keep posting.  I knew that Musial story in general, but I had never read it in detail.  I hate to reduce everything to SIM terms, but too bad they don't have his `41 season, when he batted .426 in 49 PA.  He would make a great pinch-hitter.

#2  Young Man in a Hurry

Ty Cobb's father was a stern man who took a dim view on his son's interest in pro ball. He was a superintendent of schools in Royston, Georgia, and he regarded baseball as a game for boys and men who were too lazy to get a steady job. But since his son was determined to try out for the minor league team in Augusta, Georgia, Mr. Cobb thought it best to let young Ty get baseball out of his system. He gave Ty 90 dollars and several letters of introduction to people who might help him if his baseball career didn't work out. Then he sent him on his way.
Two days after the baseball season opened in Augusta, Ty, who was only seventeen years old, suddenly found himself out of work. The manager, named Con Strouthers, called him in and gave him his release.
Another player, released at the same time had an offer from a semi-pro team in Anniston, Alabama, and invited Cobb to join him. Ty wanted to go but decided to call his father first. It was a nervous young man who telephoned from Augusta to Royston that night, explaining to his father that he had been released from the Augusta team and asking permission to try his luck in Alabama. There was a long pause while static cracked over the phone line. Then Mr. Cobb spoke, "Go after it," he said, "and don't come home a failure."
The Anniston team was made up of mostly young collegians and a few wandering ex-professionals. The club paid Cobb 65 dollars a month, plus room and board in a private home. After Augusta, making tthe Anniston team was easy. Soon, Cobb became one of the best hitters in the league. But since this was a semi-pro league, little of his success got beyond the local papers. None of it got as far as the Atlanta Journal, which his father subscribed to and read every day.
One day, Grantland Rice, the popular young sports editor of the Journal, received a post card from Anniston, telling him about the splendid young outfielder named Cobb.
Ty Cobb, dashing young star with Anniston, Alabama, is going great guns, he is as fast as a deer and undoubtedly a phenom. (signed)- Mr. Jones
Soon another card reached Rice's desk. It said:
Cobb had three hits yesterday, made two sensational catches. Keep your eye on this phenom. (signed)-Smith, Kelly and McIntrye
More cards and letters arrived, all recommending this superb young outfielder from Anniston:
If you're searching for a future star, he's playing here in Anniston. His name is Cobb. He's a Georgia boy who's going a long way. (signed)-Interested Fan
This is the one that aroused Rice's writing interest. Since this fantastic lad with the enthusiastic backing was a Georgia boy, he should be mentioned in Rice's column.
He finally wrote one day, "Rumors have reached Atlanta from numerous sources that over in Alabama there's a young fellow named Cobb who seems to be showing an unusual talent for baseball. Futhermore, he's a Georgian."
Back in Royston, Mr. Cobb clipped the little article out of the Journal and carried it in his wallet as proof that his son made good. And in Augusta, the article encouraged the baseball team to do some checking. It sooned learned that the slender young man who had been hastily dismissed was batting .370 in Anniston, He was soon brought back and restored to the line-up.
There was no slowing Cobb's drive to the top now. He finished the 1904 season with Augusta and was called to the Detroit Tigers before the next season was over. There he became one of the truly great baseball players. He never did get baseball out of his system like his father had hoped. He played for twenty-four years in the major leagues. After his first season, he never batted below .300 and he led the American League in batting eleven times. Three times he batted over .400. In addition, he stole 892 bases. Years later, he was one of the first five men voted into the Hall of Fame. He received more votes than Christy Mathewson or Babe Ruth.
Many years later, Cobb happened to be seated next to Grantland Rice on the speaker's platform at a sports banquet. Cobb was nearing the end of his great playing career with Detroit and Rice had been successful too, he had become the most famous sports writer in America.
The speakers were reminiscing about great past sports events and when Cobb's turn came, he spoke to Rice. "Grant," he began, "you remember when you were a sports editor of the Atlanta Journal, and I was a just starting out in baseball?"
"You bet I remember," Rice said. "I first heard of you when you were playing for a team in Anniston, Alabama."
"And do you remember all the cards and letters you used to get from the fans in Anniston, telling you what a great prospect I was?" Cobb asked.
"They swamped me," Rice said. "In fact, they wrote you right out of Anniston back to Augusta."
"I was playing pretty well," Cobb said, "but I must have been a pretty good writer too, because I wrote those cards and letters myself."
Rice was silent for a moment. The joke was certainly on him. But then his face broke into a big smile. He reached out and shook Cobb's hand.
Cobb would have succeeded in baseball sooner or later.He had too much talent to be ignored for long. But even when he was only seventeen, he had a tremendous desire to succeed-- he had been a young man in a big hurry.

had heard (or maybe even read) these stories before (i think I had the book back in the 1970s, but time gets blurry). These are really good. Thanks for posting.

#3 A Game of Records

The World Series of 1920 set a number of records. First, Cleveland had never played in a modern World Series. Their opponents, the Brooklyn Dodgers, had played in the Series just 4 years earlier but had been in the second division ever since. It was a surprise that the two teams were there at all. But it was the fifth game that kept the record keepers busy.
Twenty-six thousand fans crowded into old League Park in Cleveland to see the two teams play that day. The Series was tied at two games apiece. Each manager was starting his pitching ace: Burleigh Grimes for Brooklyn and Jim Bagby for Cleveland. Grimes had beaten Bagby in the second game so Bagby was particularly eager to win the rematch.
From the first inning the Indians began giving Grimes double trouble. The first 2 Indian batters reached on singles. Then, Tris Speaker, the Indians' player manager laid down a bunt, and as Grimes attempted to field it, he fell flat on his back. The bases  were loaded with nobody out when Elmer Smith came to bat. Some fans were still trying to find their seats in the midst of this hubbub. Smith had batted over .300 in 1920 for the first time since 1914 when he had appeared in only 13 games.
Grimes bore down on the Indian batter, who swung at the first two pitches and missed. The third pitch was outside as Grimes "wasted" one, and Smith let it go by. But the fourth pitch was a fastball that was just what Smith had been waiting for. He swung and the ball disappeared over the right-field screen. The 3 base runners spun around the bases, followed by Smith, who had done something no other player had ever done. It was the first grand-slam home run hit in a World Series. To prove that it was no simple feat, thirty-three years passed before Mickey Mantle of the Yankees hit the next series grand-slammer against the Dodgers in 1953.
Grimes was still pitching as the fourth inning began. The Indians threatened again. The lead-off man, Doc Johnston, got a hit, took second on a passed ball and went to third on an infield out. Steve O'Neill, the catcher, was walked because Bagby, who was the next batter, was a weaker hitter and Grimes figured he could handle him. Instead, Bagby slammed a drive into right-center field that fell into the bleachers for a three-run home run, the first home run ever hit in a World series by a pitcher.
By the fifth inning, Grimes had disappeared from the game. The merciless Indians had hammered him for nine hits and seven runs, including the two historic home runs and a triple. Working with such a comfortable lead, the Indians' Bagby seemed to let up in the fifth. The first two Dodgers batters, Pete Kilduff and Otto Miller led off with singles, bringing up Grimes' replacement, pitcher Clarence Mitchell. With runners on first and second and no one out, the Dodger manager was willing to allow his pitcher to bat rather than call on a pinch-hitter. In fact, he felt so much confidence in Mitchell that he flashed the hit-and-run sign, meaning that both Kilduff and Miller were to be off and running as Bagby released his pitch.
Mitchell met the ball squarely for what seemed to be a certain hit over second base. Since Dodger base runners were moving, Wambsganss, the Indian second baseman, ran toward second base to cover on the play. With an acrobatic leap, Wambsganss speared the line drive for one out. Suddenly he found himself with the play of a lifetime. Kilduff, who had been on second base, was already nearing third. Wambsganss stepped on second base forcing Kilduff out for the second out. Miller, who had been on first base, was nearing second when he realized what was happening and came to a dead stop. Wambsganss simply put the tag on him for the third out. He had completed the first and only unassisted triple play in World Series history.
It was no more Mitchell's day at bat than it had been Grimes' day on the mound. The next time the Brooklyn relief pitcher came to bat, a teammate was on first base. He hit another smashing ball, this time on the ground to Wambsganss, who promptly turned it into a double play. In two times at bat, Mitchell had been responsible for five of his teams' outs. This was another first in a World Series.
Five victories were required to win a World Series in those days. The Dodgers were so thunderstruck by the Indians's performance in the fifth game that they never recovered. They lost that day, 8-1, and never scored another run as the Indians shut them out twice and completed the Series in two more days.