JIMMIE FOXX·1933

Philadelphia calls him the Beast in the broad light of day now, and that MVP vote—why, that's just the league finally reading the same room the clubhouse has been sitting in all season. Forty-eight of 'em go over the wall and don't come back. A hundred and sixty-three more fellas cross the dish on his tab. Foxx at high tide—the kind of year that sends sportswriters scrambling for their hymnals and sends ballplayers reaching for something shorter and stronger, the kind of word you don't print in the family papers. Mack still got the loudest stick in his order, and the arms on the other side still act like they've been took unawares when that ball takes off on a trajectory that ain't got no manners and no notion of coming down polite. They keep throwing, he keeps hitting, and the only surprise left in the joint is that anybody's still surprised at all.

MVP BEAST

Most Valuable Player in Philadelphia colors — forty-eight homers, a hundred sixty-three driven in, the nickname earned in daylight.

PEAK SKILLSCORE SEASON

The quiet card rating peaks here: 1933 remains Foxx’s highest SkillScore season — the Beast at full measure.

PHILA MIDDLE OF THE ORDER

Every American League staff still had to solve him before the fourth turned into a rout. Philadelphia’s problem child for opposing arms.

Jimmie Foxx, Philadelphia Athletics, 1930. Associated Press / Wikimedia Commons. Public domain (US).