

In 1941, Pittsburgh Pirates pitcher Truette “Rip” Swell was deer hunting. A fellow hunter accidentally fired a shotgun in his direction and injured the big toe on Sewell’s right foot. He recovered, but he had to change his pitching motion.
In the course of learning how to adapt his delivery, Swell experimented with different grips and pitching speeds. One of his new pitches was a kind of “blooper.” He gripped the seam of the ball with three fingers and lofted the ball toward the plate, giving it lots of backspin. Although the ball traveled slowly, it was spinning rapidly.
For a time Sewell did not throw the blooper in a regular game, but one day he did use it in an exhibition against Dick Wakefield of the Detroit Tigers. Sewell’s delivery went up into the air about 15 feet, then dropped toward the plate. The ball looked as big as a grapefruit as it floated down toward the strike zone. Wakefield started to swing, held up, then finally swung and missed the ball completely.
Later, in the clubhouse, someone asked what kind of a pitch Sewell had thrown. Teammate Maurice Van Robays said, “That’s an eephus ball.”
“What’s an eephus ball?” a reporter asked, puzzled.
“Eephus is nothing,” Van Robays grinned. “And that’s what that pitch is, nothing.”
When Sewell decided to use the pitch in a real game, the umpires began to protest. They said it wasn’t a normal pitch, and some of them said they would not call it a strike even if it came over the plate. Pittsburgh manager Frankie Frisch knew that the fans wanted to see the eephus ball, so he called on Bill Klem, the supervisor of all National League umpires. Klem watched Sewell throw the eephus and decided it was legal. He instructed all the umpires to allow Sewell to throw it.
Sewell won 21 games in 1942 and 21 again in 1943–with a little help from the eephus ball. Some of the better hitters could time their swing right and poke the ball into the outfield for a base hit. But most went crazy trying to judge the eephus pitch. By now Sewell was able to loft the pitch almost 25 feet into the air.
Then during the All-Star game of 1946, Ted Williams approached Sewell. “You wouldn’t use that pitch in a game like this, would you, Rip?” he asked.
Sewell smiled. “I sure would, Ted. What’s more, I’m going to throw it to you.”
When Williams came to bat against Sewell in the eighth inning, the American League was leading by 8-0. The fans were bored. It hadn’t been a very exciting game. Sewell went into his windup and threw the eephus ball. It floated to the plate looking as big as a basketball, so slow that it seemed even a grade-school kid could hit it. Williams swung and barely ticked the ball.
Again Sewell threw the eephus ball. Williams held his swing. It was outside. Then Sewell crossed Williams up by throwing a fastball right over the plate for strike two.
Once more Sewell wound up as if he were going to throw a fastball, but he threw the eephus pitch again. Williams was ready. He took a couple of steps forward, timed his swing, and smashed the ball high and far out of the park for a home run.
As Williams circled the bases, laughing, Sewell shouted, “You only hit it because I told you it was coming.”
And perhaps that was so. Only a great hitter such as Ted Williams could really connect with Rip Sewell’s pitch. According to Sewell, Williams was the only man to ever hit a home run off his famous eephus ball.
From The Giant Book of Strange But True Sports Stories by Howard Liss. Illustrations by Joe Mathieu.
The first YouTube clip is from the 1946 All Star Game. The second clip shows that the eephus ball is still alive and well.
I’m glad old time baseball didn’t do what modern sports management does and ban something fun and different and totally reasonable within the usual play of the game.
And I’m glad Williams and Sewell had fun with it instead of fuming about unwritten rules and starting off a long feud involving throwing at the heads of innocent players. I wish modern tightasses knew more about the history of the game.