Together, shortstop Joe Tinker, second baseman Johnny Evers and first baseman Frank Chance started for the Cubs for eight full seasons. They collaborated on their first double play on September 15, 1902.

During their tenure the Cubs won pennants in 1906, 1907, 1908, and 1910, and World Series titles in '07 and '08. All three took turns as manager of the Cubs, and the trio was elected to baseball's Hall of Fame in the same year.

Franklin P. Adams' famous poem earned them another slice of immortality. It's easy to think of Tinker, Evers, and Chance as a single entity, a homogenous, open-the-box-and-snap-together unit.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Frank Chance played for Chicago from 1898 to 1912. Chance was a dental student at the University of Washington when he was discovered by Bill Lange, Chicago's star outfielder of the 1890s.

A catcher, Chance languished on the bench until 1902. Since Chance suffered frequent injuries behind the plate, manager Frank Selee suggested a move to first base. Chance wouldn't hear of it, and threatened to quit when Selee ordered him to make the switch. Chance relented, however, and developed into one of the deadball era's top first basemen. His best year was 1903, when he batted .327 and stole 67 bases.

Tough, smart and a fierce competitor, Chance succeeded Selee as manager in 1905. Dubbed "the Peerless Leader," he was a demanding field boss who led the Cubs to four pennants and a pair of World Series victories. His 1906 team won an amazing 116 regular-season games, a mark that still stands. Chance was also a hard-knuckled disciplinarian who pummeled opposing players (and his own men as well) if he thought they had it coming.

Chance left Chicago on a sour note. When owner Charles Murphy criticized Chance's players for carousing during the 1912 season, Chance lambasted Murphy as a cheapskate. Soon after, Chance was gone from the Cubs. He later managed the Yankees and Red Sox.

Johnny Evers (pronounced like "weavers") was known as "The Crab" for the way he scuttled around second base . . . as well as an abrasive disposition that rivaled Ty Cobb's. Like Cobb, Evers had no qualms about spiking opponents who got in his way.

A native of Troy, New York, Evers came to Chicago in 1902. He was a quick thinker and a sure-handed second baseman, but a light hitter. Still, Evers could rise to the occasion. In both the 1907 and 1908 World Series he batted .350.

In 1913 he took over from Chance as Cubs manager. Like Chance, however, Evers quarreled with Charles Murphy and was soon gone. In 1914 he managed Boston's "Miracle Braves" to an N.L. pennant and a World Series title. He returned briefly to Chicago in 1921 for another stint as Cubs manager.

Like most of the Cubs players, Evers had a great respect and admiration for Frank Chance.

His relationship with shortstop Joe Tinker was another matter.

Like Evers, Joe Tinker came to Chicago in 1902. And, like Evers, he was considered an artist in the field, but a weak hitter-yet one who came through in the clutch, just like his keystone partner.

In 1908 Tinker hit the first home run by a Cub in World Series play. Against the great Christy Mathewson of the Giants, he had a lifetime .291 average. In his time, Tinker was ranked second at shortstop only to Pittsburgh's Honus Wagner.

Tinker was an aggressive competitor, as were Chance and Evers. He may not have been as quick with his fists, but Tinker could hold his own in any rumble.

After a game with Cincinnati, Dick Egan of the Reds challenged him. Tinker, who had already dressed, removed his coat and squared off. The fight lasted five minutes, and Tinker completely thrashed Egan.

After the fight, said witnesses, Tinker's hair wasn't even mussed.

The Cubs sent Tinker to the Reds in an eight-player deal in December 1912. Tinker jumped to Chicago of the Federal League for the 1914 and 1915 seasons, then returned to the Cubs as player-manager in 1916.

Like Chance and Evers, Tinker's first hitch with the Cubs ended acrimoniously. He asked to be traded when Evers was named manager.

The two had rarely spoken to each other since September 1905, when they got into a fight during an exhibition game in Bedford, Indiana. The problem centered around a ride from their hotel to the ballpark. Tinker had left by himself in a hack, leaving Evers and others standing at the curb. Evers wasn't happy about it. When he finally made it the park, Evers told off Tinker.

Tempers simmered until the middle of the game, when the pair locked horns right on the diamond. Teammates broke up the fight, but Evers was still fuming over the curbside snub. A day after the fight, Evers told Tinker they'd be better off just doing their jobs, but not speaking to one another unless it was absolutely necessary.

"That suits me," is what Tinker is said to have replied.

"It was unfortunate," Evers said years later. "I figured that if he wanted that way, he could have it."

And that's the way it continued, season after season, through four pennants and two championship seasons. Tinker and Evers played side by side for the next five seasons, avoiding each other as much as possible.

After their playing days, the hard feelings softened. At Cooperstown in 1946, Evers and Tinker stood together one more time as they were inducted into the Hall of Fame.

"Joe was there when I walked in," said Evers. "We hadn't seen each other for years. And do you know what we did? We rushed together, threw our arms around each other and cried like a couple of kids."

Chance, who died in 1924 at age 47, was inducted posthumously.

"I'm glad we made it all together," said Evers. "Chance should have been elected long ago. I wish he were alive to feel as happy about it as I do. I'm glad for Tinker, too."```

When a Chicago newspaper reporter researched the number of twin killings by the celebrated trio, he came up with some astonishing numbers. Between 1906 and 1909, theycombined for just 54 double plays-29 initiated by Tinker, the rest by Evers. Comparison with modern double play figures, however, doesn't work.

In an era when stolen bases and sacrifice bunts were the order of the day-and when pitchers put more trust in fly-ball outs, rather than grounders on rough infields-double plays were much more scarce.

Evers died less than a year later, and Tinker passed on in 1948. Together with Chance, they live on as the most celebrated infield in baseball history.

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