A.R. Bowman Museum

How a rowdy summer ballgame, a thousand-dollar bet, and one very persuasive gambler helped shape Oregon history

Long before Tom McCall became Oregon’s most iconic governor, his family’s name was already making headlines in Prineville—thanks to a high-stakes baseball game, a suspiciously professional visiting team, and one well-dressed stranger who knew how to swing more than just a bat.

Let’s rewind to the summer of 1910.

Prineville was deep into baseball fever—a love that ran deep, and early. In fact, by 1890, Prineville had already established one of the first organized baseball teams in Eastern Oregon, setting the pace for a wave of small-town teams that would follow. Baseball games were such a big deal that many local businesses would shut their doors when the boys took the field. Crowds came in wagons from miles around to cheer, feast, and gamble a little on the outcome. Victory brought bragging rights and town-wide celebration. Defeat was a bitter pill.

That summer, Prineville was hosting a three-game tournament against Silver Lake, and things weren’t going well. By the seventh-inning stretch of the final game, Prineville was down 9–0. The home team—a mix of shopkeepers, ranch hands, and the occasional weekend warrior—was no match for Silver Lake’s suspiciously talented lineup.

That’s when the locals realized something was off: Silver Lake had stacked their roster with ringers—real, paid ballplayers brought in from Portland. Not exactly cheating, but definitely bending the spirit of small-town sportsmanship.

The Prineville crowd, silent and grim, watched the innings tick by. And then came a curious twist of fate.

Among the spectators that day was Thomas W. Lawson, a dapper gentleman from the East Coast with a silver watch chain, a fat wallet, and a flair for spectacle. A copper magnate and Wall Street gambler, Lawson was in town to gift a sprawling Crooked River ranch to his daughter Dorothy and her new husband, Hal McCall, a former Harvard baseball star. Hoping to grease the wheels for the newlyweds’ welcome into Prineville society, Lawson had confidently placed a $1,000 bet—an enormous sum—on the home team.

Now, watching the scoreless Prineville nine flounder, Lawson decided to take matters into his own hands.

With the game paused and the Silver Lake players resting, Lawson strolled casually down to the visitors' dugout and, with a hearty grin, declared:
“The drinks are on me!”

What happened next isn’t fully recorded. But it’s safe to say the bar tab ran long, the visiting team’s reflexes slowed, and by the bottom of the ninth inning, Prineville had pulled off a miracle comeback—winning 10 to 9.

Lawson pocketed his winnings, paid the bar bill with a smile, and the town welcomed Dorothy and Hal with open arms. That game became the stuff of legend.

And the newlyweds? Their son, Tom Lawson McCall, would grow up in Oregon with deep roots in both grit and gumption. He’d become a journalist, a reformer, and eventually one of the most admired governors in state history.

So, next time you think a baseball game is just a game, remember Prineville’s big comeback. Sometimes, it's also the opening chapter of something much bigger.

Note:
The colorful account of Thomas Lawson’s legendary wager and Prineville’s dramatic 1910 baseball comeback was inspired in part by a story originally published by The Redmond Spokesman and Offbeat Oregon History on May 16, 2024 from a highlight of the story by David Braly. “Tales from the Oregon Outback: Prineville:” American Media, 1978. You can read the full article here.