Not a typo, not a misprint. In the 1860s game that vintage leagues faithfully recreate, a runner arrives at a base on his feet — like a gentleman — or not at all.
Sliding, it turns out, is a relatively modern invention. The move is often credited to one Bob Addy around 1866, and the first time a crowd witnessed something like it at an 1859 game in Portland, Maine, they reportedly roared with laughter. It was that absurd.
By the 1880s, the St. Louis Browns were making the slide respectable. But vintage base ball plays by the rules of a decade earlier, when the sport still fancied itself a gentlemen's pursuit. Spitting? A fine from the judge. Cursing? Also a fine. Diving headlong into second base like your trousers are on fire? Unthinkable.
So when you watch a runner pull up smartly at third, upright and composed, resist the urge to yell slide. He's not confused. He's playing it exactly right, the way your great-great-grandfather would have, and proud of it.
Huzzah.
SPECIAL EVENT
The Mesa Miners are the 2026 Old Dominion Cup champions, defending their title with a 9–2 win over the Bisbee Black Sox during the final weekend of April in Globe.
The Capstone Copper Trophy returns to Mesa for the second consecutive year, capping a tournament that continues to grow as both a competitive event and a showcase for one of Arizona’s more unusual, and increasingly popular, sports traditions.
The Old Dominion Cup — held as part of Globe-Miami's Old Dominion Days celebration, hosted by Globe Miami Times — marks the culmination of the Arizona Vintage Base Ball League season. Played by the rules of the game as it existed when Abraham Lincoln was president, with period-style uniforms and bare-handed catches, vintage base ball is equal parts living history and genuine athletic competition.
And it comes with a few quirks.
There are no gloves. The ball can be caught on one bounce for an out. The pitcher throws underhand. And “soaking” — hitting a runner with the ball — was once a perfectly legal way to record an out.
There is also no sliding.
That last rule may seem minor, but during this year’s tournament, it proved anything but.
In vintage base ball, there are no umpires. There are arbitrators, and there are cranks.
The arbitrator manages the game and rules on close plays. The cranks are the spectators, and in vintage ball, the crowd is part of the action.
During one game at this year’s Old Dominion Cup, a Bisbee Black Sox runner was called out at home plate on a close play. The reaction from the spectator bench was immediate and emphatic. In keeping with tradition, the arbitrator consulted the cranks — and, faced with overwhelming opinion, reversed the call. The run counted, helping send the Black Sox to the championship game.
Later in that same game came a moment that captured the spirit, and the strangeness, of vintage base ball.
A Black Sox runner on second broke for third on a long throw, then scrambled back when the infielder made the catch. To avoid the tag, he dove, stretching his hand to the edge of the bag.
After a brief discussion between two arbitrators, he was called out.
Because there is no sliding in vintage base ball.
“It looks like a reenactment until the ball is struck,” said Jorge Gonzalez, the league's director of operations and captain of the Bisbee Black Sox. “Then it becomes real base ball.”
While the rules may feel novel to modern audiences, the game itself has deep roots in Arizona.
Early versions of base ball were played across the territory in the late 19th century, a history documented by historian John Tenney in his book “Baseball in Territorial Arizona, 1863–1912.” The book traces the sport from military outposts and frontier forts to boomtowns like Bisbee and Globe, where mining companies and local promoters turned Saturday afternoon games into community events.
By 1929, the Arizona State League, a Class D minor league, featured teams including the Bisbee Bees, Globe Bears, Mesa Jewels, Miami Miners, Tucson Waddies, Phoenix Senators and Tucson Cowboys.
Even the game itself looked different. “Base ball” was originally written as two words. Early clubs resisted uniforms, concerned they would resemble a “flock of birds,” and at one point experimented with position-specific jerseys before abandoning the idea midseason. Heavy wool uniforms were standard, while headgear ranged from straw hats to jockey caps until the modern baseball cap gained popularity in the 1860s.
Today’s vintage leagues replicate that look with lighter “faux flannel,” preserving the appearance without the heat.
The Arizona Vintage Base Ball League operates under the National Vintage Base Ball Federation, a national organization founded in 1996 on the 150th anniversary of the first recorded game between organized teams. The federation now includes more than 200 teams across the country.
What sets Arizona apart, Gonzalez said, is its structure.
“What surprised me most was realizing that the AVBBL is one of the few true vintage base ball leagues in the country,” he said. “In many states, vintage base ball operates as a loose confederation of clubs bound by shared rules and tradition — a perfectly valid model, but a different one.”
Arizona’s formal league structure allows clubs to share resources, organize larger events and support new teams.
“That lets us think beyond any single team or town,” Gonzalez said.
The league currently includes the Mesa Miners, Bisbee Black Sox, Tombstone Nine, Higley Haymakers and Tucson Saguaros, along with two all-women’s clubs: the Maricopa Maidens and the Bisbee Copper Queens.
The two longest-running clubs — Mesa and Bisbee — anchor the league and help develop new players. Warren Ballpark in Bisbee, site of the league’s first game, remains its official home.
“The role of vintage base ball there has always been to preserve the ballpark, keep its history alive, and give the public a living connection to the game’s past,” Gonzalez said.
The 2026 season brought continued expansion.
Tombstone fielded a full nine for the first time, and the Bisbee Copper Queens, a new all-women’s club, opened their tenure with a win over the more established Maricopa Maidens during the Old Dominion Cup.
Gonzalez sees the women’s teams as central to the league’s future.
“The women’s clubs have become one of the strongest parts of the league,” he said. “They draw attention, they bring energy, and they’ve produced some of the most exciting games we’ve had. They’re not a side feature. They are the league’s animating spirit.”
Many of their matchups have been decided by a single play — a bare-handed catch, a clean hit, or a costly mistake.
Sustaining a vintage base ball club, Gonzalez said, requires more than assembling a roster.
“Building a club starts with a captain,” he said. “Not just someone willing to make a lineup, but someone with a real vision for what the club can be and what it can mean.”
Finding players, he added, is often the biggest challenge, one the league is designed to address by sharing experience and support across teams.
“We’re still learning how to do that,” Gonzalez said. “It also requires building a shared value system — one that puts the health of the league above over-competitiveness or local rivalries.”
That approach appears to be working.
“The fact that Tombstone came in and was able to field a full nine, and that the league added another women’s club, tells me the AVBBL isn’t shrinking in spirit,” he said. “It’s becoming more defined.”
For those encountering vintage base ball for the first time, Gonzalez offers a simple assurance:
“You’re going to love this. I promise.”
The Arizona Vintage Base Ball League plays throughout the spring and fall across the Valley and southern Arizona. For schedules and information on joining a club, visit arizonavintagebaseball.org.
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