Dog Day Afternoon

Abner Powell enjoyed a two-year big league baseball career in the mid-1880s before leaving a more indelible mark on the National Pastime as a part owner of the New Orleans Pelicans.

But in one of the final games of his major league career, Powell crossed paths with the animal kingdom – and this time, the marks – teeth marks – were left on him.

Powell was the part-owner of the Pelicans in the late-1880s where he instituted such baseball standards as Ladies Day and the rain check ticket. He also initiated use of the infield tarpaulin, which was a highly successful addition in the sub-tropical Louisiana climate. These concepts are now a routine part of the modern game.

Powell was also an outfielder, shortstop and pitcher in the Union Association and the American Association in 1884 and 1886. On Aug. 22 of the latter year, Powell was playing outfield for the Cincinnati Red Stockings when William Van Winkle “Chicken” Wolf of the Louisville Colonels came to bat. According to newspaper reports, Wolf lofted a fly ball in Powell’s direction, but before he could collect the ball for return to the infield he was attacked by a dog that heretofore had been snoozing in the outfield grass.

The dog, perhaps vaguely aware of some canine kinship to a player named Wolf, took hold of Powell’s leg and would not let go, making it possible for Wolf to round the bases.

Wolf was credited with a home run, but it is not known whether the dog recorded an RBI assist. For Powell, it was clearly a case of ribbies vs. rabies.

Abner Powell remains one of the near-forgotten innovators of the game, a man responsible for changes and improvements which still benefit both players and fans. His impact was of such significance that future Hall of Fame Connie Mack sent him a letter stating, “You, Abner Powell, have done more for baseball than any man alive.”

As for Chicken Wolf, he would enjoy an 11-year career with the Louisville Colonels and St. Louis Browns, picking up over 1,400 hits with a .290 lifetime average. One can only wonder if his canine-assisted home run is the one he remembered most.

Just another in the thousands of stories waiting to be rediscovered in the archive of the National Baseball Hall of Fame.

Now that is something to chew on.

Jim Gates is the Librarian at the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum