Give the Man Some Shoes: the Tragedy of "Shoeless" Joe Jackson and Why He Should be in the Hall of Fame

Written By: Sawyer Knierim

Date: 3/26/2026

Dedicated to my Dad: “You wanna have a catch?”

"I copied (Shoeless Joe) Jackson's style because I thought he was the greatest hitter I had ever seen, the greatest natural hitter I ever saw. He's the guy who made me a hitter."

That quote comes from Babe Ruth—yes, Babe Ruth. The man who revolutionized baseball with his swing says that “Shoeless” Joe Jackson was where he got it from. He could have mentioned Ty Cobb, one of the greatest hitters ever, but instead, Babe Ruth praised a man whose nickname highlighted his lack of footwear. The Society for American Baseball Research (SABR) also preserves Ty Cobb’s praise: “Joe is a grand ball player,” Cobb said. “There is no denying that he is a better ball player his first year in the big league than anyone ever was.” When two of the GOATs say you were the best, you might be the best. Would it surprise you that Shoeless Joe Jackson is NOT in the Cooperstown Baseball Hall of Fame?

When you read that last sentence, your mind probably comes up with several reasons why he isn’t in Cooperstown. One might be that he had a short career, and you would be right: he played from 1908 to 1920, six years shorter than the average Hall of Fame career. You might also suggest that he didn’t have the stats to make it into the Hall of Fame, but you'd be mistaken. In fact, the Hall of Fame has spent a century overlooking one of the most obvious cases it’s ever had. Jackson hit .356 for his career, posted a .423 on-base percentage, a .517 slugging percentage, and 62.3 wins above replacement. Baseball-Reference’s JAWS system ranks him 13th among all-time right fielders. His peak seasons only strengthen this case. In 1911, Jackson hit .408 with 233 hits, 45 doubles, and 19 triples. In 1912, he hit .395, scored 121 runs, collected 226 hits, and had 26 triples. In 1913, he hit .373 and led the league in hits, doubles, and slugging. In 1920, his final major league season, Jackson still hit .382. He drove in a career-high 121 runs and remained one of the game’s best hitters. He was not fading. He was not just hanging on. He was still raking when baseball shut the door on his career. The only reason he isn’t in Cooperstown is that he was banned from baseball in 1920.

1919—the year of the Chicago Black Sox Scandal. Players from the Chicago White Sox took money from gamblers and, in turn, threw the World Series against the Cincinnati Reds. Gambling was a major issue in baseball early on, but this was the most notorious offense. Unfortunately, Joe Jackson was said to be involved in the conspiracy, even though he was acquitted of any wrongdoing in court. That is the one black mark on his white socks that kept him from receiving a plaque in Cooperstown. However, his role in the incident was, at the time, largely exaggerated and has since become a myth. Revisionist history painted him as a villain when he was not. In fact, there is a strong argument that Joe Jackson did not realize what was happening until it was too late. SABR has conducted extensive research into the many rumors surrounding the entire scandal.

Jackson signed a confession admitting to accepting money in exchange for throwing the series, although he was unable to read or write at the time and claimed that a team lawyer coerced him into signing. He did receive the money but believed it was because of his lawsuit against the White Sox over back pay. When he discovered what was really happening, he tried to see White Sox Secretary Harry Grabiner to give back the money or at least inform them of the fix. He was rebuffed and told to keep the money. White Sox owner Charles Comiskey later testified under oath—not once, not twice, but three times—that he did not believe Joe Jackson was involved in fixing the 1919 World Series. Comiskey and many others knew about the fix before Game 1 of the series.

The only man to ever claim that Shoeless Joe Jackson was present at any meetings between gamblers and players was Abe Attell. Attell shared this story with Eliot Asinof while Asinof was researching his book "Eight Men Out." The meeting between Attell and Asinof took place at Jack Dempsey's restaurant in New York City. After Attell left, Dempsey reportedly made it clear what he thought of him, saying he would rather go 12 rounds with Joe Louis. The point is simple: Attell was neither a clean nor a credible witness, and his claims deserve skepticism.

Accepting tainted money was a mistake. It damaged his reputation and made it harder to believe his claims of innocence. But if someone wanted to give him money after his name had been illegally connected to the plot, did he have a moral duty to refuse it? He didn’t receive it until after the Series was over and didn't know what it was originally for. Whether it was the right moral decision or not, the money did not impact his performance. Jackson never spent the money. He deposited it into a savings account and never used it. After his death, it was donated to the American Cancer Society.

During a grand jury testimony, Jackson is reported to have said that he “hadn’t played good baseball” in October during the series. That quote was circulated by the AP so widely that it was accepted as fact, but it is false. In his actual testimony, Jackson states that he maintained he played to win during the Series. Jackson himself said that he would “stand on [his] record in that World Series.” Let’s examine his performance. He hit .375 with 12 hits and 6 RBIs. He also scored 5 runs himself and played in 8 games. In the field, he had a perfect record with no errors. That is not the stat line of someone who is throwing a series. If Shoeless Joe threw that World Series, he did a horrible job.

Finally, during the trial, the jury was asked several questions about Joe Jackson receiving the money. Two questions stood out to me: “At the time Williams gave Jackson the money, did he tell Jackson that there had been an agreement between certain ballplayers to lose or ‘throw’ the games, and that the $5,000 was his [Jackson’s] share of the money received by the players for their part in the agreement?” They responded 11-1, “No.” “Did Joe Jackson unlawfully conspire with Gandil, Williams, and other members of the White Sox Club, or any of them, to lose or ‘throw’ any of the baseball games of the 1919 World Series to the Cincinnati Baseball Club?” Again, they responded 11-1, “No.” That one juror must have been a Cubs fan.

So why was Jackson blamed? There are several possible reasons. Part of the answer is that baseball needed a visible symbol of guilt after a scandal that threatened its credibility. Second, baseball had a significant gambling problem in the early 1900s, and the league overreacted to the scandal. Third, it was an attempt to cover up the scandal and scapegoat someone, and Jackson was the most notable and memorable person on the list.

There were five players in the Hall of Fame's inaugural class in 1936: Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Honus Wagner, Christy Matthewson, and Walter Johnson. These players are among the greatest residents of Cooperstown. Shoeless Joe Jackson should have been included with them and inducted sometime between 1936 and his death in 1951. It is a tragedy that his ban was based on poor sources, misquotes, outright lies, and exaggerated stories. It is outrageous that no new commissioner has ever reinstated him. In a twist of irony, his shoes are even displayed in Cooperstown, but he doesn’t receive a bronze plaque. He has gone without recognition for over a century. Major League Baseball decided in 2025 that permanent ineligibility ends at death, and the Classic Baseball Era Committee is scheduled to vote in December 2027 for the Class of 2028.

Cooperstown is meant to honor baseball history, not folklore. The Hall of Fame doesn't need to canonize Joe Jackson or pretend that 1919 never happened. It just needs to judge what can be shown. And what can be shown is this: Jackson’s role in the scandal was more complex and limited than the myth suggests. The baseball case for him, meanwhile, is strong. He was one of the greatest natural hitters ever, highly respected by his peers, and one of the most glaring Hall of Fame omissions. For a century, Joe has been baseball’s man in the shadows—visible but not truly welcomed.

At some point, baseball must decide whether it cares more about an old myth or the fuller truth. Give the man some shoes. Then give him his plaque.