"The appalling fact of the worldwide disaster must convince the most optimistic that our world is sadly out of joint," warned the Reverend Theodore Hermann.

Was Hermann referring to an upsurge of international terrorism? The AIDS epidemic? Crime in the streets?

No. He was referring to baseball. Sunday baseball.

For some Philadelphians in the 1930's, Sunday games were a tool of the devil to lead "American civilization...to oblivion."

As early as 1926, the Philadelphia Athletics, one of only three professional baseball teams forbidden to play on Sunday, had sought to accommodate their fans.

"Other amusements are permitted to run on Sunday," groused John B. Shibe, vice president of the club. "Baseball should not be discriminated against."

That was not the view of the mayor. Or the city solicitor. Or the public safety director. Or the Lord's Day Alliance. Or the Methodist Business Men's Committee. Sunday baseball, said the Philadelphia Sabbath Association, was a violation of the law. The law - "An act for the prevention of vice and immorality, and of unlawful gaming, and to restrain disorderly sports and dissipation" on Sunday - dated to 1794.

The Athletics decided to test the law by playing a Sunday game. Despite rain, 10,000 fans were in the stands.

The state attorney general, William A. Schnader, took the Athletics to court. America "is a Christian nation," ruled the Dauphin County Court. Score 1-0 in favor of the righteous.

The Pennsylvania Supreme Court affirming the ruling. Score 2-0.

In 1931 Representatives Louis Schwartz and Clinton Sowers, of the Pennsylvania legislature, tacked an amendment onto a bill dealing with Sunday milk deliveries. Babies get milk, fans get baseball - at least between the hours of 2:00 and 5:00 p.m.

No way. Score 3-0 against the Athletics.

During 1932 and 1933 other amendments were introduced. State senator Leon C. Prince called a 1933 attempt "morally wrong, socially undesirable, and politically inexpedient." The drive for Sunday baseball, he warned, was "symptomatic of a disregard of the elemental principles of the country. Let the Senate heed the admonition uttered by Solomon 3,000 years ago, 'Remove not the ancient landmark, which thy fathers have set.'"

But some Pennsylvanians noted that the legislature was spending more time on baseball and beer legislation than "serious legislation." The Reverend Arthur C. Baldwin, a Baptist, said, "We do not do well to rely on the state for that which only religion in the heart can do."

Said Lutheran minister Merman Beilenberg: "Let us desist from forcing, coercing, legislating people into our position...Laws cannot make me worship, and laws cannot keep me from worshipping."

Two on, no one out.

On April 25, 1933, Governer Gifford Pinchot signed a bill permitting a referendum on the issue.

Though he was "emphatically opposed to the commercialization of the Sabbath," said Pinchot, "the Puritan Sabbath in Pennsylvania was abandoned generations ago; the people can be trusted to decide the matter for themselves."

On November 7, 1933, Pennsylvanians voted 113,905 to 10,693 for Sunday baseball.

Connie Mack was elated. But he urged fans to attend church as well as the games.

On April 8, 1934, the Athletics played their first legal Sunday game, with 15,000 fans in attendance. No records reveal whether the players heeded Connie Mack's appeal to attend church.