205 Drop: Top 12 old-time MLB traditions that didn't last

Today's link stars longtime blog obsession Carl Mays, pictured here in the middle of his windup. I want you to imagine being an MLB hitter. Now, take away the helmet. Next, play the game without the benefit of artificial lights, with games frequently extending into the twilight hours. The next move is to exchange your clean new regulation baseball for the same ball being used for the entire game; if it goes foul, fans throw it back in. Step four is to have the infielders and players on both teams mark and scuff the ball to their heart's delight, for the benefit of their pitcher, especially if they get an early lead.

Finally, put it in the hands of a monster like Mays here, who was one of the hardest throwers in the game. He'd come at you underhanded, and was a thoroughly unpleasant son of a bitch, in that he frequently led the league in hit batsmen.

Oh, and add this little bit of knowledge to the table: in 1919, Mays *killed* a guy on the field, Cleveland's star shortstop, Ray Chapman. He also got to stay in the game, still pitching like that, for most of a decade. He won championships for the Red Sox and Yankees, and was a teammate of Babe Ruth.

I guess what I'm saying here is that when your grandfather tells you that you punks have it too soft, believe him.

Oh, and click the link for some of my finest race-based humor in many a moon. I was feeling ornery, children. Special points to anyone that can successfully point out the real ones amidst the Kom O 'Dee...