Babe Ruth: Legends in Sports

by Matt Christopher

  Ruth had two more games to try for number sixty.

  The next day, the Yankees and Washington Senators were tied 2–2 in the eighth inning. Although Ruth collected two hits and scored both Yankees runs, he had yet to belt out home run number sixty.

  With one out, Yankee Mark Koenig tripled. Then Ruth stepped to the plate. He took one ball and one strike. Then Tom Zachary threw another pitch.

  The ball was low and inside. With the form he had made classic, Ruth swung down on the pitch and then drove it like a golf ball. The drive sailed to right field, curving toward the line. The umpire tracked the ball to make the call as Ruth started a slow dance toward first.

  As the ball rattled into the seats, the umpire signaled fair. Then he twirled his arm above his head, the signal that the hit was a home run.

  Yankee Stadium exploded with cheers. Ruth ran around the bases slowly and deliberately, making sure he touched each base. The hit gave the Yankees a 4–2 lead. They hung on through the last inning to win the game.

  Ruth was mobbed by reporters in the clubhouse. He had a huge grin on his face. Only two years before, many had thought his career was over. Now he had done something no one else had ever done in the history of the game.

  “Sixty!” he yelled. “Count ’em, sixty! Let’s see someone else do that!” Then a reporter asked him if he thought he would break his own record in 1928. “I don’t know and I don’t care,” he replied with a laugh.

  As wonderful as hitting sixty was, Ruth knew that the Yankees needed to win the World Series to make the record truly meaningful. If the Yankees lost the series, everyone would say he had failed.

  He needn’t have worried. The Pittsburgh Pirates, the National League champions, were a good team built around Paul and Lloyd Waner, a couple of singles hitters. Before the first game Ruth looked at them and quipped, “Why, they’re no bigger than a couple of little kids. If I was that size I’d be afraid of getting hurt.”

  The 1927 Yankees were a machine. They beat the Pirates 5–4 in the first game and 6–2 in the second. In game three, Ruth blasted his first home run of the series, leading his team to an 8–1 victory. He hit another blast in game four to give the Yankees a 3–1 lead, but the Pirates rallied to tie the game 3–3. Then in the ninth New York loaded the bases. The Pirates pitcher uncorked a wild pitch and Yankee outfielder Earle Combs jogged home with the winning run. Combs hadn’t broken a sweat, and neither did the Yankees in sweeping the Pirates. For the second time in his Yankee career, Ruth was a world champion.

  When the 1928 season began, New York let every other team know that they were still the champs by winning thirty-four of their first forty-two games. Although Ruth didn’t break his home run record, he did come close, slamming fifty-four home runs. The Yankees won the pennant once again and prepared to face the Cardinals.

  On paper, it looked as if the Cardinals would have the edge over the Yankees. After their quick start, New York didn’t really play very well in the last half of the season. Several New York players would miss the World Series with injuries and Ruth was bothered by a sore knee.

  But it seems that no one bothered to tell the Yankees that they were considered the underdogs. They surged forward to sweep St. Louis in four straight games. Once again, Babe Ruth was the big story. He ended the series with perhaps the greatest day of his career.

  Ruth wasn’t exactly invisible in the first three games, though. Although Lou Gehrig gathered the headlines with three long home runs, Ruth collected three hits in game one, two more in game two, and made the play of the game in the third contest, scoring the go-ahead run by dashing home on a ground ball and knocking the ball out of the catcher’s glove.

  In game four, however, the legendary player turned in a truly legendary performance. Ironically, he started out as the goat, for in the first inning he dropped an easy fly ball. When he came to bat in the fourth inning, St. Louis led 1–0. With one swing — Boom! — Ruth tied the game with a home run.

  Then St. Louis went up by one. The score was still 2–1 when Ruth came to bat in the seventh inning. With two strikes the St. Louis pitcher tried an illegal quick pitch. The umpire refused to allow it. Ruth then calmly sent the next offering out of the ballpark. As the St. Louis crowd booed, Ruth laughed his way around the bases, waving at them. Gehrig followed with a home run to put the Yankees ahead.

  When Ruth next took the field, St. Louis fans booed him. Some threw soda bottles at him. Ruth picked one up, wound up, and pretended to throw it back. Many fans ducked, but others just laughed as Ruth harmlessly tossed the bottle aside. All of a sudden, they were on his side.

  Ruth came up once more in the eighth and put the game away with another home run, his third of the game. But he wasn’t done yet.

  With two out in the ninth, the Cardinals were down to their last at bat. A St. Louis batter hit a towering fly ball down the line. Ruth took off, running full speed. Fans in the stands threw paper to try to distract him. It didn’t work. Still running, Ruth reached into the stands and snagged the ball without breaking stride. He held it over his head, whooping, “There’s the ball! The one that says it’s all over!”

  For the Cardinals, it was. The Yankees were champions again.

  Babe Ruth was at his peak. The Yankees had won three straight pennants and two World Series since he’d taken control of his life. Now he was more beloved than ever.

  But Babe Ruth was almost thirty-four years old, ancient for a ballplayer. It would soon be time for him to look to the future.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  1929–1932

  The Called Shot?

  The last three seasons had been the best of Ruth’s career, and the happiest. He was again the greatest player in the game, and the Yankees were the greatest team in baseball. But the next few seasons would not be quite so enjoyable.

  In January of 1929, Ruth received some tragic news. Helen Ruth had been killed in a fire. Although they hadn’t been together for years, he was still saddened by her loss. He asked the press to respect her privacy. In April, he married Claire Hodgson. It was clear to everyone that Ruth had settled down.

  But no ball club can stay on top forever, and in 1929, the Yankees were in transition. Although Ruth and Gehrig still formed a potent combo, New York’s pitching staff wasn’t as strong. The Yankees were shaken even further by the death of Miller Huggins late in the 1929 season. Although Ruth and Huggins had clashed, after Ruth’s 1925 suspension he and the manager had grown close.

  All of a sudden, the Philadelphia Athletics were the best team in baseball. Sluggers Jimmie Foxx and Al Simmons were almost as powerful as Gehrig and Ruth, and fireballing pitcher Lefty Grove led a terrific pitching staff. The A’s took off in 1929 and didn’t look back. Philadelphia won three straight pennants and two world championships.

  Still, Ruth remained one of the most dangerous hitters in baseball. As he grew older, he managed to make small adjustments at the plate to adapt to his slowing reflexes, using a lighter bat and standing a bit further away from the plate. In 1929 he became the first man in the history of baseball to hit 500 home runs in his career, and in 1931 he became the first man to hit 600.

  But Ruth and the Yankees really wanted another championship. Ruth realized that at age thirty-six his career as a player would soon come to an end. As early as 1929, after Huggins’s death, Ruth hoped to be named Yankee manager. But the ball club wasn’t confident that he had the self-discipline for the job. Ruth held onto his hope of becoming the manager sometime in the future. He knew that helping the Yankees win another world championship would help.

  In 1932 the Yankees were invigorated by the performance of some younger players, such as catcher Bill Dickey and the emergence of pitcher Lefty Gomez. For the first time in three years, the team finally had enough pitching depth to overtake the A’s and win the pennant.

  At age thirty-seven, few people expected Ruth to be the star of the World Series against the Cubs. Ruth had hit in only forty-one home runs, far fewer than league leade
r Jimmie Foxx, who was closing in on Ruth’s record with fifty-eight. The Babe’s legs were giving him trouble, too, and in September he had been hospitalized with stomach trouble. Before the World Series there was even some speculation that Ruth wouldn’t be in the Yankees’ starting lineup.

  When the series began, however, Ruth was in his usual spot in the right field and hitting third in the Yankee lineup. Although Lou Gehrig had a wonderful World Series, hitting over .500 as the Yankees swept Chicago, all the headlines, as usual, went to Babe Ruth. He did something even he found hard to believe — if he even did it at all.

  Former Yankee Mark Koenig had joined the Cubs in mid-season and keyed their pennant run. Yet his teammates had voted him only a half-share of the World Series money. His old teammates on the Yankees, particularly Babe Ruth, thought the Cubs were being unfair to Koenig. In the first two games in New York, both teams razzed each other from the bench. Ruth kept calling the Cubs “cheapskates,” and the Chicago players gave it right back to him.

  When Ruth and the Yankees went to Chicago for game three, Ruth didn’t let up. Wrigley Field, the home of the Cubs, was much smaller than Yankee Stadium. During batting practice Ruth hit home run after home run into the stands. He told a reporter, “If I could hit here all the time I’d play for half my salary.”

  When the game started, the bench jockeying continued. Even Cubs fans got into the act, and Ruth kept up a running conversation with Cubs players and fans. It grew worse after his first at bat against pitcher Charlie Root. Ruth clubbed a pitch into the stand to give the Yankees a 3–0 lead.

  But in the fourth inning Ruth gave the Cubs and their supporters something to howl about. He tried to make a shoestring catch and missed the ball. The hit went for a double and the Cubs were able to tie the game 4–4. Cub fans threw paper and lemons at Ruth and hooted him unmercifully.

  Ruth was embarrassed, and also a little mad. He stepped to the plate to lead off the fifth inning determined to quiet the crowd.

  As he approached the plate he was booed loudly and the Cubs called him all sorts of names. Ruth listened and then cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled back at them.

  The fans started booing even louder. Then Ruth stepped into the batter’s box.

  Pitcher Charlie Root buzzed a pitch over the heart of the plate and Ruth just watched it pass. Then he turned to the Cub bench and held up one finger, as if to say “That’s one.”

  The howling increased. The Cubs and their fans wanted to see Ruth embarrassed and humiliated by a strikeout.

  Root threw two more pitches for balls, and again Ruth didn’t take the bat from his shoulder. It appeared as if he wasn’t going to swing.

  Then Root threw another strike. Ruth again watched it pass like he was just a spectator. Then he looked at the Cubs and held up two fingers as if to say “Strike two.”

  The crowd was roaring at a fever pitch and Cubs were on the dugout steps screaming at Ruth. He stepped out of the box and gestured to them as if he were pushing them away, like he was some kind of colossus they couldn’t touch.

  He turned to the Cub catcher and said, “It only takes one to hit it.” Root yelled something at Ruth and he yelled back, “I’m gonna knock the ball down your throat.”

  All the while, Ruth was grinning widely. His gamesmanship was driving the Cubs crazy!

  Then Ruth gestured again. To some observers it looked as if he gestured to the Cubs bench again. Others thought he waved at Root. But some were convinced he pointed to the center field bleachers as if that’s where he intended to hit the next pitch.

  Root wound up and threw. This time Ruth was ready. He took a tremendous swing at the pitch.

  Boom! The sound of the bat hitting the ball echoed over the park and stilled the crowd. The ball rocketed directly over Root’s head on a line and kept rising, growing smaller and smaller. The Cub center fielder ran straight back and then ran out of room as the ball sailed over his head and deep into the stands in center field.

  Ruth just watched, and then, as he jogged toward first base, started to laugh. He had a choice comment for each Cub infielder he passed, plus a few things to the Cub bench as he trotted past third to home.

  The Cubs were silent. Ruth had spoken in a way no other player in the game could.

  On the very next pitch, Lou Gehrig homered, and the Yankees went on to win the game 7–5 to take command of the series. They won big the next day to capture the series.

  But that wasn’t the end of the story. Everyone at the park knew that Ruth had held up his fingers before hitting the home run, and everyone knew that he had made some kind of gesture before belting the home run.

  One newspaper reporter captured the mood of the moment, if not entirely accurately, by writing that Ruth had pointed to center field before the pitch and then “punched a screaming liner to a spot where no ball had ever been hit before.” The blast became known as the “called shot,” and soon everyone was saying Ruth had pointed to center field before hitting the home run.

  Witnesses were divided about whether he actually did point, but the story seemed like something only Babe Ruth could have done, or would even have dared to do. Ruth himself claimed that he had pointed “but not [to] a specific spot. I just wanted to give that thing a ride out of the park.”

  Although film footage turned up later that seemed to indicate that Ruth didn’t exactly point, that hardly matters. The legend of the “called shot” already had a life of its own. And even if Ruth didn’t point, there is no question that he waited for one pitch and then hit that pitch out of the park. The incident put a tremendous exclamation point on his wondrous career.

  He had already done things on the baseball field no one had thought possible, and in doing so had somehow evolved from a sad, lost little boy into one of the most beloved figures in sporting history. Even if Babe didn’t point as people claimed he did, there was no question in anyone’s mind that if anyone in the history of the game could hit a home run at will, it was Babe Ruth. He was bigger than life, a legend.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  1933–1947

  Heading Home

  Not even Babe Ruth could play forever, though. Over the next two seasons it became clear that his strength and stamina were ebbing and that his career was winding down. The Yankees finished second each season and Ruth’s performance slowly declined. After hitting .301 with 34 home runs in 1933, in 1934 he hit .288 with only 22 home runs.

  Yet Ruth was still the most popular player in baseball. If anything, he was even more popular than ever as fans who had grown up with him now took their children to see him.

  On occasion, he could still be the most dynamic player in the game. In the first All-Star game ever, played in Chicago in 1933, Ruth — who else? — hit the first home run in All-Star game history.

  He still commanded a big salary, but it was now more than the Yankees felt he was worth. They wanted him to return in 1935, but only as a pinch hitter and at a reduced salary. Ruth knew his career as a player was coming to an end, but he hoped that his time with the Yankees wasn’t over. He hadn’t given up his dream of becoming the team’s manager.

  There was just one problem. The Yankees were happy with current manager Joe McCarthy. When Ruth asked if they were thinking about replacing McCarthy and if he had a chance for the job, he was told no. Although his behavior had improved dramatically, the owners worried that he wouldn’t be able to command respect from his players. After all, everyone knew that for most of his career he had flouted the rules. “That’s all I need to know,” said Ruth when told of the club’s decision. Sadly, no other team seemed interested in hiring Ruth as manager either.

  While his future hung in the balance, in the offseason he traveled to Japan to help popularize baseball in that country. The game had caught on in Japan, and Ruth was greeted like a conquering hero. But when he returned to America in February, he still didn’t know if or where he would be playing in 1935.

  Then Judge Emil Fuchs, owner of the Boston Braves,
approached Jake Ruppert and asked if he would sell the Babe. The Braves were desperate to draw fans. Fuchs offered Ruth the chance to play one more season as well as a position as a team vice president and assistant manager. He even said he would consider making Ruth manager in the near future.

  “If he can better himself elsewhere,” Ruppert responded to Fuchs’s offer, “the Yankees won’t stand in his way.” He agreed to release Ruth. If Ruth wanted to sign with the Braves he was now free to do so.

  Ruth met with Fuchs and agreed to accept the Braves’ offer. He opened the season in the Braves outfield before 25,000 freezing fans in Boston. Ruth, now forty years old, was magnificent. He hit a two-run homer and made a diving catch as the Braves won 4–1. Boston fans went crazy.

  Then he stopped hitting. Over the next month he got only two more hits and was bothered by a cold. He also found out that his title as team vice president meant nothing and that Braves manager Bill McKechnie had little use for an “assistant manager.”

  In early May a frustrated Ruth wanted to retire. But Fuchs talked him into staying with the team through its next road trip. Thousands of fans had already bought tickets to see him play.

  Ruth reluctantly agreed. Except for one last day in Pittsburgh, he played terribly But on that day he was as good as he had ever been.

  In his first at bat he cracked a two-run home run. Then in his next trip to the plate he hit a second home run. After singling in his third time up, Ruth came to bat one last time.

  The pitcher was Guy Bush, who had once pitched for the 1932 Cubs. The bases were empty.

  Babe Ruth was forty years old. For a ballplayer, he was old and fat. He had already decided he would retire in a few days.

  But he still had one great swing left in him. Bush threw and Ruth hit the pitch on the sweet part of the bat. The ball rocketed into the sky until it was just a small speck. Then it dropped down and down, all the way over the double-decked grandstand in right field at Pittsburgh’s Forbes Field. It hit the roof of a house across the street, bounced off another rooftop, and rolled to a stop in a nearby lot. Witnesses later said a young boy walking by saw the rolling ball, picked it up, and went on his way, probably wondering where in the world the baseball had come from. The vacant lot was more than six hundred feet from home plate!