Frank "Home Run" Baker.

Not just his nickname was interesting

Frank Baker started in major league baseball as one of those raw country lads so endearing to sports writers of his era, and retired a gentleman farmer. Born on a farm just south of Trappe, Maryland, which had been in the family since before the

Helen Berry went to school with Baker and once described the boy everybody in Trappe knew: "He came in late in the fall after the farm work was finished ... A rather clumsy country boy ... so dark he seemed almost sun-baked, with thick black lashes and dirty hands." But there was always, "the typical Baker grin, so good natured and sympathetic it was consoling ... Frank was always the one to sharpen slate pencils, turn the jumping rope and climb the mulberry tree and throw down mulberries to the girls who couldn't climb; very quiet and easy going ..."(1)

It was his brother Norman who everyone thought would make the big leagues. He had a blazing fast ball and a temperament to match. Norman got a tryout with Connie Mack's A's, but he hated the city, opting to play for local and Baltimore independent teams.

Frank followed in his older brother's footsteps, pitching for the high school team until he came of age. Preston Day, owner of a local sawmill, had connections with the local semipro circuit. He was brother to the father-in-law of future major leaguer, Buck Herzog, then a nineteen-year-old manager of the Ridgely Club. Day alerted Herzog to Baker's talents, and he was signed to a contract of $5 a week plus board. The young Trappe farm boy was recruited as a pitcher, but with Sam Frock and Si Nichols sharing those duties, he got little chance and had to settle for some action in the outfield. Early in the season the starting third baseman went down with an injury, so Herzog tried Baker there. The manager was so impressed with what he saw that he was left at that position for the rest of the year.

Baker would later be a part of the famous "$100,000 infield" for the A's with Jack Barry, Stuffy McInnis, and Eddie Collins, and now he found himself on its equivalent among local semipros. The Ridgely squad boasted of five future major league players. With Nichols at short, Herzog at second, Baker at third, Bill Kellogg at first, and Frock on the mound, this small-town team proved a worthy competitor for clubs from larger communities.(2)