Meanwhile, the fans were having a joyous time watching the team of stand-ins try to get Philadelphia out. The third baseman on the pickup club was struck in the mouth by a ground ball and lost two of his teeth. "This isn't baseball," he said, "this is war." One outfielder, Jack Leinhouser, had a fly ball land on his head. Nevertheless, he remained in the game. "I played all nine innings," he recalled, "and did nothing but chase balls all over the place. Jennings finally came out and told me to forget about trying to catch them on the fly. 'Just play them off the walls,' he told me."
After one hour and 45 minutes and nine " Tiger" errors, the game was over. Travers had pitched a full eight innings, yielded 25 hits and seven bases on balls and had struck out a batter. The game, a 24-2 victory for the Athletics, counted in the standings.
That was enough for an exasperated Navin, who wanted to cancel the remaining games until the strike could be settled. But he never had to. Perhaps fearing that Johnson would fine his teammates, Cobb decided he had played the role of martyr long enough. "Forget about me and go back to work," he told them. "You've made our point.... I don't want you paying any more fines. Johnson will lift my suspension soon." After the players returned to the field, Johnson did fine them—$100 each, except for Cobb, who was assessed $50 and given a 10-day suspension.
Baseball's first strike was over. Many fans felt nothing had been proved, but others suddenly realized that baseball players were independent—and crazy—enough to do just about anything.