Johnny Kling - Final Years

Final Years

After a decade of success with the Cubs Kling was traded to the lowly Boston Braves, where he spent the 1911 and 1912 seasons. At one point he even managed the Braves, but his managerial efforts were not successful and the team had a losing record He was said to be unhappy with the way the Braves' owners made him run the team, and this led to his being traded in 1913. His final year in the majors was spent with the Cincinnati Reds. He devoted the rest of his life to several important pursuits. He owned the Dixon Hotel in Kansas City, where his billiard parlor gained national recognition. During his baseball career, he had begun mentoring his nephew, Bennie Allen, and as the years passed, Bennie went on to become a champion too. In 1933, he purchased the Kansas City Blues of the American Association and was able to generate more interest in the team and increase their attendance within a year of taking over. One of his innovations was to desegregate the ballpark, allowing both black and white fans to attend the games together. Kling sold the Blues in 1937.

Though never a major name among Hall of Fame rooters, Kling garnered his share of support for Cooperstown. He received votes from the BBWAA in eight elections, earning as much as 10% of the vote (in 1937).

In late January 1947, while returning from Miami to Kansas City, he suffered either a heart attack or a cerebral hemorrhage and died in hospital at age 71. He was survived by his wife and two daughters.

Read more about this topic:  Johnny Kling

Famous quotes containing the words final and/or years:

    I’ll give you my answer calmly and sensibly, my final answer. My final answer is finally no. The answer is no! Absolutely and finally no! Finally and positively no! No! No! No! N - O!
    Abraham Polonsky (b. 1910)

    It is now many years that men have resorted to the forest for fuel and the materials of the arts: the New Englander and the New Hollander, the Parisian and the Celt, the farmer and Robin Hood, Goody Blake and Harry Gill; in most parts of the world, the prince and the peasant, the scholar and the savage, equally require still a few sticks from the forest to warm them and cook their food. Neither could I do without them.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)