Sox pitcher Robertson struggled before and after his perfect game

"If I had known then what I know now it would have never happened to me. I wouldn't have been in baseball."

- Pitcher Charley Robertson 34 years after his perfect game for the White Sox in 1922

Hall of Fame pitchers such as Sandy Koufax, Cy Young and Catfish Hunter had perfect days.

So did solid pitchers such as Dennis Martinez, David Cone and David Wells, now joined by the White Sox' Mark Buehrle.

Mike Witt, Len Barker and Don Larsen, who had the granddaddy of all the perfectly pitched games in the 1956 World Series, had respectable/mediocre careers.

Then there's the White Sox' Charley Robertson, who authored the most improbable and most controversial of the 18 perfect games pitched in major league history.

On April 30, 1922, the 26-year-old right-hander from Texas was making only his fourth major-league start in a career in which he finished with a record of 49 wins and 80 losses with a 4.44 ERA. Robertson was facing a Detroit Tigers' team that hit .305 - the highest of any team ever no-hit - with Hall of Famers Ty Cobb and Harry Heilmann in their lineup.

Before a jam-packed house of 25,000 at Detroit's Navin Field, Robertson assured himself of a place in baseball history with his 2-0 victory in a career which otherwise was far from perfect. He even had a very minor link to the 1919 Black Sox when he lasted only 2 innings and lost his major-league debut.

That was his only big-league appearance until 1922. Robertson was coming off a 7-3 complete-game win April 26 over Cleveland, but it was hardly a sign of what was ahead as a whopping 16 runners (12 hits, 4 walks) reached base.

But on this day, Robertson relied on a fastball and slider, according to Richard Lindberg's "Total White Sox: The Definitive Encyclopedia of the World Champion Franchise." According to James Buckley Jr.'s "Perfect," which has an in-depth look on each of the first 16 perfect games, Robertson's fastball was regarded as particularly live that day, even though he later said it was "nothing more than usual."

What was unusual was Robertson's command considering his career numbers of 377 walks and 310 strikeouts. The only time he fell behind a hitter and came close to a walk was to start the fifth when Bobby Veach flied out to right fielder Harry Hooper on a 3-2 pitch.

"I threw a fastball that didn't even come close, but Bobby bit on it and popped it up," Robertson said. "The rest was like batting practice."

Veach also came the closest to a hit in the second inning with a drive to deep left field. Because of the large crowd of that era, the custom of that time was to allow fans to stand in roped-off areas of the outfield.

In "Total White Sox," catcher Ray Schalk said Mostil had to fight off spectators and mounted police to make the catch. But the account in "Perfect" said the crowd spread out to make Mostil's catch easier.

Heilmann and Cobb also didn't make it easy on Robertson. They accused him of throwing pitches doctored with grease and oil, and in "Total White Sox" it was said Cobb, who has the best lifetime average of .367, personally inspected Robertson's uniform.

According to "Perfect," umpire Dick Nallin did remove several balls from play after the complaints started. Cobb, who struck out in the seventh, never stopped his relentless pursuit of the belief Robertson's gem was tainted.

In "No-Hitters: The 225 Games," author Rich Westcott wrote that American League president Ban Johnson found traces of oil on balls submitted by the Tigers but came up with the odd explanation that they came from the wire screen behind home plate.

But nothing bothered Robertson on this day. Not even some stalling tactics in the last at-bat by pinch hitter and regular catcher Johnny Bassler, who hit .323 that season, as Robertson even made a Buehrle-esque breach of superstition with shortstop Eddie Mulligan.

"I walked out of the box and said to Mulligan, 'That little fat fellow stands between me and a no-hit game,'" Robertson said.

Bassler hit a foul fly caught by Mostil and fans swarmed the field and carried off Robertson on their shoulders. Robertson's unlikely and magic moment was complete.

And it was all downhill from there for Robertson. He did finish 14-15 that season for a .500 team but dropped to 13-18 in 1923 and was cut loose by the White Sox after the 1925 season.

Robertson spent part of one season with the St. Louis Browns and his career was over in 1928 after two seasons with the Boston Braves.

His perfect outing went unmatched for 34 years until Larsen's 1956 World Series masterpiece. Reporters contacted Robertson, who was working in his pecan fields during Larsen's game and said "in this business, I don't have much time for anything else.'"

And in those interviews Robertson alluded to his belief he wouldn't do it all over again if he could.

"Baseball didn't give me a particularly bad break," Robertson said in "Perfect." "But I went through it and found out too late that it is ridiculous for any young man with qualifications to make good in another profession to waste time in professional athletics.

"There's nothing wrong with them, but by the time you're through with athletics, you have to start over, and at an age when it's the wrong time to be starting."

But on one day 87 years ago, Charley Robertson started what only a select few have finished in what turned out to be a reluctant brush with baseball immortality.