\t
WHEN DAVID BECAME GOLIATH<\/FONT> <\/P> One of the things about baseball that endears it to writers is that the <\/P> I missed David Cone’s perfect game on July 18th, too, but does that mean <\/P> But back to David Cone. I first learned of his perfecto driving home <\/P> If I was a Yankee fan, my VCR would have recorded the event, and upon my <\/P> If I was a Mets fan, I likely would have groaned — one more no-no by an If I was an Expos fan, I might curse Interleague Plague a little. (I was <\/P> But for this event, I was merely a baseball fan, and so I tip my cap to <\/P> When I later learned that it was Yogi Day at the Stadium, and that Don <\/P> Except, of course, that it happened. For this one game, this David “PAST GEHRIG, CLOSING IN ON RUTH; SETS SIGHT ON COBB” <\/U><\/B> <\/P> Who would not want to be the person behind the headline above? Well, it <\/P> I’m not sure why turning 53 myself last May 6 (the same day Willie Mays <\/P> But I always remember that he died in August of 1948, and that is <\/P> According to the special Sporting News<\/I> edition that paid tribute <\/P> Babe Ruth had rallied from a severe illness in the winter of 1946-47, <\/P> While the Babe gave it a weak “thumbs up” — saying in that husky voice, <\/P> When Albert Nobel read his own obituary (oops!), he was so bothered by <\/P> Babe Ruth never recovered from Bendix’ film, never had the opportunity <\/P> I like to think the Babe would have welcomed Creamer’s book, and <\/P> Given the Babe’s penchant for sampling a variety of the spices served up <\/P> Ingmar Bergman, for example, opens his film with the Grim Reaper, draped <\/P> Woody Allen might have tackled Ruth in his (Woody’s) early period. We <\/P> With the money he made from suing the animators of Babe, Pig in the <\/P> As usual, I am only scratching the surface here. Send me your movie <\/P> SO CLOSE AND YET SO FAR DEPT. <\/U><\/B> <\/P> <\/P> Anyone who has ever met a Cub fan knows that 1908 is fondly recalled as <\/P> My attention was drawn to 1935 when I was scanning a sketch of Tiger <\/P> Something had to give, in the World Series of 1935. The Cubs had <\/P> The Cubs took Game One, 3-0, in Detroit, then dropped the next one, 8-3. <\/P> Back in Detroit for Game Six, the teams battled to a 3-3 tie through <\/P> Tiger pitcher Tommy Bridges was in the pinch. He fanned Bill Jurges. Cub <\/P> In the bottom of the ninth, Mickey Cochrane got aboard on a hit that the <\/P><\/p>\n \t Imagine the contrast between the silence in the stadium after Hack’s <\/P> THE BABE DIDN’T POINT <\/U><\/B> <\/P> <\/P> When I came across the book so titled — it’s by Bill Bryson (Iowa St U <\/P> Wrong. Bryson’s sub-title is “and Other Stories about Iowans and <\/P> The dust jacket has a photo of the Babe in a famous post-HR pose, bat <\/P> Bryson (1915-1986) was “Iowa’s premiere baseball writer” in a career <\/P> Alas, his opening essay “The Babe Never Called His Famous Homer” — <\/P> Bryson does mention a 1944 interview of Ruth by James Carmichael of the Zowie? Aw, go on now?<\/I> I am guessing that Mr Brandt may have <\/P> FROM THE ARCHIVES OF NOTES <\/B><\/P> <\/P> The Called Shot was a main topic in a hot stove issue of Notes<\/I> <\/P> THE FICKLE FINGER OF THE BABE <\/U><\/B> <\/P> <\/P><\/p>\n \t My poem Called Shot<\/B><\/I> appeared here last October, and I’ve <\/P> Yet here we are in February 1994, and the Fox Network is spending an <\/P> “Apparently the story is too good to die,” wrote Joe Williams, a <\/P> That’s what Williams wrote in 1965, but it was his story in 1932 that <\/P> The story is<\/I> too good to die. Because the fantasy shows how <\/P> In 1953, Williams even reported a “deposition” by prizefighter Mickey <\/P> YOU BE THE UMPIRE <\/U><\/B> <\/P> <\/P> “It will never be known for certain, but on-deck hitter Lou Gehrig — 20th Century Baseball Chronicle<\/I>, 1991 (!) <\/P> <\/P> “Gehrig said he read about it in the papers the next day. ‘And that was <\/P> “He really didn’t do it, you know. I hate to explode one of baseball’s — Billy Herman<\/B> in The Glory of Their Times <\/I><\/P> <\/I><\/P> “[Charlie Root] used to tell me that there was no way Babe Ruth could — Gene Conley<\/B> in A Donald Honig Reader<\/I> <\/P> <\/P> “He hit two home runs in that game and so did Gehrig, but as usual Ruth “‘I was out at the hospital this morning and I told a little kid I was “Mrs Sewell told me later that when Babe came up she heard Mrs Ruth call “Do I believe he really called it? Yes sir. I was there. I saw it. I <\/P> “The next thing you know some newspapermen are saying he’d pointed to <\/P> A POSTSCRIPT ON THE “CALLED SHOT” AND MR. RUTH <\/U><\/B> <\/P> <\/P> I wrote the above before I watched the Fox Front Page<\/I> segment on <\/P> Front Page<\/I> assembled an interesting jury. The Babe’s daughter <\/P> Robert Creamer, who bio’d Babe, repeated the saying “all the lies about \t\t(He noted that the crowd was wowed by the blast, as it was one of the longest <\/P> Several fans who were at the game, after viewing the film, were <\/P> Mickey Mantle and a group of ex-Yanks were shown the film, and Mantle <\/P> For some reason, Front Page<\/I> did not mention Joe Williams and his <\/P> Cub SS Billy Jurges (who had a great view) thought at first Ruth called <\/P> Mike Lupica’s final remarks were thoughtful. Are heroes still possible? <\/P> REFLECTIONS ON BASEBALL’S SUMMER INTERMEZZO <\/U><\/B> <\/P> <\/P> To be honest, the only time I really looked forward to the All Star Game <\/P> In my first years of rooting, the ‘Star Game seemed much more important <\/P> I do recall liking early on, the idea of rotating the Game around the This time around, I got to wondering whatever happened to that neat <\/P> When the second round began, the pattern vanished right after the Interleague plague, mass movement of players (even All Stars) between <\/P> I tuned in the event itself only intermittently, on radio and TV. I <\/P> DIARY OF A BASEBALL JUNKIE — Part 3 <\/U><\/B> <\/P> <\/P> July has been sweltering, even here in the Shadows<\/I> of <\/P> How long I stayed depended mostly upon the company I had. With certain <\/P> There were seasons, not so long ago, when I could take my kids along for \t\tlooking forward to the seasons when I can take their<\/I> kids to the <\/P> The Blue Sox are a hard-to-follow team. If you don’t go to the park, you <\/P> Worth noting is a recent in-game promotion that was great fun. Fans were <\/P> The problem was that the promotion received no publicity in advance of <\/P> TIME WARPS <\/U><\/B> <\/P> <\/P> Tom Ruane recently noted on the SABR internet digest how “suspended” <\/P> For instance, Barry Bonds made his major league debut on May 30, 1986. <\/P> Tom also noted that the suspended Astros-Padres game might affect Tony <\/P> What if a suspended game occurs in the middle a hitting streak for <\/P> If Joe Dee was a Yankee — would there be pressure on his manager to sit <\/P> Keep this quirky rule in mind, next time someone asks you if a pitcher <\/P> Imagine a pitcher being traded, after fanning fifteen batters for the <\/P> If you can come up with other Bizarro World scenarios, please send them <\/P> LAST UPS: A TALE OF TWO TEMPORARY CITIES <\/U> <\/P> <\/P> The weekend of July 23-25 has been anticipated here in the Shadows of <\/P> It was the biggest turnout ever, for both cities. Well over 200,000 fans <\/P> The traffic jams on the NY Thruway that almost everyone had predicted, <\/P> Both events were in the national eye, thanks to MTV and ESPN. (In the <\/P> I prefer to tape the Hall of Fame Inductions, rather than attend. If I <\/P> There were no bonfires, vandalism or looting in Cooperstown, but if the <\/P> I skimmed through the speeches by the rookie ‘Famers, and especially <\/P> Woodstock ’99 cannot be compared to Hall of Fame Weekend, we all know WHEN DAVID BECAME GOLIATH One of the things about baseball that endears it to writers is that the event can be missed, but written about almost endlessly. I never saw Babe Ruth’s “called shot,” yet I can plan to write a whole book on the topic (it would include four pages of this issue of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":29,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11360","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/seamheads.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11360","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/seamheads.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/seamheads.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/seamheads.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/29"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/seamheads.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=11360"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/seamheads.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11360\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/seamheads.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=11360"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/seamheads.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=11360"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/seamheads.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=11360"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tevent can be missed, but written about almost endlessly. I never saw Babe
\n\t\tRuth’s “called shot,” yet I can plan to write a whole book on the topic (it
\n\t\twould include four pages of this issue of Notes<\/I>.) <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tI cannot headline the event here? Of course not. I missed Ted Williams at the
\n\t\tFenway Midsummer Classic, and I missed some late-inning Blue Sox excitement
\n\t\twhen I left early, and those misses are fuel for this issue, too. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tafter my second heat-dodging, air-conditioned movie at a mall that weekend
\n\t\t(Star Wars<\/I>), on a car radio newscast. No details, just the bare bones:
\n\t\t27 up, 27 down for Conie. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tarrival home, I would have basked in the delicious monotony of those nine
\n\t\tstraight one-two-threes. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tex-Met. Surely Seaver and Gooden and Cone had terrific seasons with the Mets,
\n\t\tthe Mets who let Nolan Ryan<\/I> get away! <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t\twondering how many of the Expos had faced David Cone before. I think I can look
\n\t\tthat up.) <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tDavid Cone. There is no such animal as an easy perfect game, the odds are
\n\t\talways<\/I> astronomical. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tLarsen was on hand for the occasion, the phenomenon became even more
\n\t\tphenomenal. To be “pitcher perfect” with echoes of 1956 in the air — this is
\n\t\tjust one more time when baseball writes a script that Hollywood would have to
\n\t\treject as too unreal. It is more Twilight Zone than actual occurrence. It is
\n\t\tthe stuff of sandlot daydreams, of fiction and of fancy. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tbecame Goliath, an unyielding giant smiting all batters in his path,
\n\t\tsling-shotting his way to glory. Amen. <\/B><\/P>
\n\t
\n\t\t<\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\thappens to fit many baby-boomers, who have now lived longer than the Iron Horse
\n\t\t(who died just shy of 38), and are now chasing the Babe. I personally hope to
\n\t\tcatch Mr Ruth next November 16, and then begin my dogged pursuit of Ty Cobb.
\n\t\tThe Georgia Peach reached 74 years, 7 months. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tturned 68), reminded me that I was in Ruth’s vicinity. For a while, I thought
\n\t\tI’d passed him — I can never remember if he was born in 1895 or ’96. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tbecause when I first learned the date, I was astounded: for a couple of years,
\n\t\tme and the Babe walked the same planet! OK, I mostly crawled, but then, so did
\n\t\tRuth in those years. Today, I am more amazed that Ruth lasted<\/I> 53 years,
\n\t\tgiven the abuse his body endured. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tto Ruth — Nation Mourns Ruth<\/I> was the headline — the Babe died without
\n\t\tever knowing the cause of his death. Which was throat cancer, officially — and
\n\t\tnot an overdose of saccharine induced by a choir of schoolkids singing “Take Me
\n\t\tOut to the Ballgame” outside his hospital window (as the William Bendix movie
\n\t\thas it.) That always struck me as odd, that his doctors and family refrained
\n\t\tfrom using “the C word” around Babe. It’s not like he didn’t have a right to
\n\t\tknow, y’know? <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tand attended the premiere of the Bendix film on July 26, 1948, just several
\n\t\tweeks before his death. According to Fred Lieb, his doctors let him leave
\n\t\tMemorial Hospital in N.Y. to travel to the Astor Theater with his wife Claire,
\n\t\tthinking “it might do him good.” However, they failed to preview the film. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\t“it was a good picture” — the popular movie summary of his life may have
\n\t\thastened his passing. Was Lieb suggesting this, when he commented, “What really
\n\t\twent through [Ruth’s] mind as he watched Bill Bendix portray Hollywood’s
\n\t\tversion of his legendary career and exploits will never be known.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tthe way he would go down in history — as the inventor of dynamite, which had
\n\t\tbeen turned into a weapon of mass destruction in wars — he decided to set up a
\n\t\tfund to reward peacemakers. Jean Henri Dunant, who founded the Red Cross, was
\n\t\tco-recipient of the first Nobel Peace Prize in 1901 — five years after Albert
\n\t\tdied. My point is simply: how do we remember Nobel? <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tto work with a director on his own version of his life. Imagine the Babe living
\n\t\tanother 53 years — he’d be with us today, tossing out first balls, and we’d
\n\t\thave seen a lot of him last summer, out at the park watching McGwire and Sosa.
\n\t\tWhom would the Babe choose to do his auto-bio right? <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tinsisted that it be the basis for the script. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tby life, I also like to think he would have given a wink and a go-ahead nod to
\n\t\ta number of different directors over the years, each searching for “the real
\n\t\tRuth.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tin black, and the Babe (smoking a cigar, in his underclothes), playing stud
\n\t\tpoker. The Reaper is frustrated at his inability to make Ruth appreciate the
\n\t\tserious nature of what is really at stake in the game. Drawing to an inside
\n\t\tstraight, Ruth comes up with a wild card bearing the number 60, which he slaps
\n\t\tdown with a guffaw. “Pretty good for an ugly orphan kid, right, chum?!” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tmight see Ruth visiting a hospital, with Woody playing the sick kid. “Gee,
\n\t\tBabe, do you think you could hit one for me today?” Sure, kid.<\/I> “That
\n\t\twould be great, maybe one home run would clear up my sinuses. How about two,
\n\t\tBabe, think you could hit two?” Well, kid, I’ll try my best.<\/I> “Try your
\n\t\tbest? Babe, I’m dying here, I got one chance in a million to live through the
\n\t\tnight, not that I want to put any pressure on you or anything, but geez, Babe,
\n\t\tcan’t you hit two for me?” Sure, kid, I’ll hit two. You just keep the radio
\n\t\ton.<\/I> “How about one for my Uncle Harry, who is so sick he can’t even visit
\n\t\tme, not that he would anyway because he never liked me, it was always my
\n\t\tbrother Josh, but — ” Shut up, kid, or I’ll sit out today’s game.<\/I> <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tCity<\/I>, Ruth might hire Quentin Tarantino to give it a shot. In this one,
\n\t\tRobert DeNiro bulks up like he did for Raging Bull<\/I>, to play the Babe who
\n\t\tjust can’t say No, especially to pasta. The Called Shot turns out to be an
\n\t\telaborate plot set up the night before when one of the Babe’s fans (played by
\n\t\tJoe Pesci) threatens Cub pitcher Charlie Root, taking a baseball bat to a
\n\t\tvariety of melons while making his point. The hit men hidden in the shadows at
\n\t\tWrigley Field (Travolta and Samuel Jackson) are never needed, but their
\n\t\tadventures on their way to the park provide enough action to guarantee success
\n\t\tat the box office. Bruce Willis plays Lou Gehrig, who almost has his streak
\n\t\tbroken when he is mistaken for a certain crooked boxer while driving home after
\n\t\tthe game. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tversions of “The Babe Ruth Story” for future Notes<\/I>! <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tthe last time the Cubs won the World Series. For Red Sox fans, it’s 1918, but
\n\t\tthen they always bring up 1986, when victory was snatched away in Game Six,
\n\t\twith one out to go. I am wondering why Cub fans do not bring up 1935 as much as
\n\t\tBoSox fans drag out 1986. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tStadium by Amadee in Take Me Out to the Ballpark<\/I> (The Sporting News,
\n\t\t1983), and noticed a figure standing at third base with a large anchor chained
\n\t\tto his left ankle. The caption goes like this: “Where Stan Hack was stranded
\n\t\tafter opening 9th with triple in final game of ’35 Series.” Naturally, I had to
\n\t\tlook up the rest of the story. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\treturned to October’s Game in 1910, 1918, 1929, and 1932, and had been defeated
\n\t\teach time. Their last Series wins had come back-to-back against the Tigers, in
\n\t\t1907-08. The Tigers had lost again in 1909, and in 1934, for a perfect 0-4
\n\t\tOctober record. So something had to give, one streak was destined to be broken.
\n\t\t<\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tGames Three and Four must have been heart-breakers, as the Cubs returned to
\n\t\tWrigley, only to lose 6-5 in eleven innings, and then 2-1 the next afternoon,
\n\t\tto go down three games to one. The Cubs salvaged the last home game, 3-1. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\teight innings. Then Smiling Stan Hack led off the ninth with a triple “into
\n\t\tdeepest center field” (according to Robert Smith’s World Series<\/I>, 1967.)
\n\t\t“When Hack pulled up at third, the stands were so silent that a man could hear
\n\t\tthe crunch of peanut shells ten rows away.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tpitcher Larry French batted next, and rolled one back to Bridges for the second
\n\t\tout. Charlie Grimm was the Cub manager that declined to go to his bench. It was
\n\t\tup to Augie Galan, who poked a long fly, hauled in by Goose Goslin. Hack
\n\t\tstranded at third, and yes, he might as well have been chained to an anchor.
\n\t\t<\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tsecond baseman “just could not field cleanly.” Black Mike raced to second on
\n\t\tthe next ground ball out, then came around on Goose Goslin’s single. Game over,
\n\t\tSeries over, Tiger drought over, Cub streak intact. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t\tlead-off triple, and the roar after Goslin’s catch took Bridges off the hook. I
\n\t\tlove games with that kind of emotional range. I think most fans do. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tPress, 1989), I was at first very disappointed. Why? Because I have been
\n\t\tthinking of writing a book about Ruth’s “Called Shot” myself, and it looked
\n\t\tlike I was scooped. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tSports.” He devotes the first page and a half to the Called Shot, and that’s
\n\t\tit. I am relieved, and am looking forward to reading the rest of the book,
\n\t\twhich seems like a well-organized collection of baseball stories. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tperpendicular, torso slightly twisted, eyes following the bleachers-bound ball.
\n\t\tOn the photo, in what appears to be Babe’s own handwriting, are these words:
\n\t\t“To My friend Bill Bryson, Sincerely Babe Ruth.” Was Bryson a friend of the
\n\t\tBambino’s? Did Ruth confide to him about the Called Shot? <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tthat lasted nearly fifty years, according to the book’s intro — most likely
\n\t\twritten by one of his sons, as they compiled and edited the book. He seems to
\n\t\thave been a kindred spirit — a prolific writer who did not live near any major
\n\t\tleague parks. He did witness Larsen’s WS perfecto, Maz’ HR, and Willie’s Catch,
\n\t\tbut chose as his greatest thrill, Ruth’s HR in the first All Star Game in 1933.
\n\t\t<\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\twhich is more accurate than the book’s title, since Babe did<\/I> point —
\n\t\tsheds no new light on the issue. Bryson knew Charlie Root (a manager in Des
\n\t\tMoines in the 50s), and as we all know, Root always said if Ruth had<\/I>
\n\t\tcalled his shot, Root would have stuck the ball in his ear. He also quotes Root
\n\t\tsaying, as a clincher, “Ruth himself never said he pointed.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tChicago Daily News<\/I>, in which Ruth was quoted: “Right now I want to
\n\t\tsettle all arguments. I didn’t exactly point to any spot, like the flagpole …
\n\t\tI just sorta waved at the whole fence.” The only locker room quote from Ruth
\n\t\tafter the game that NY Times<\/I> sportswriter William E. Brandt took home
\n\t\twas this, after someone praised the Babe and Gehrig for each hitting two HRs:
\n\t\t“Aw, go on now, the wind was with us, that’s all. Any time they let us hit into
\n\t\tthe air, zowie — the wind did the rest.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t\tpapered over a few expletives there, but maybe not. An editor’s note after the
\n\t\tessay passes along this tidbit, which was news to me. During the game, Ruth did
\n\t\tgesture — “to alert park personnel that part of a temporary wooden railing
\n\t\tatop the outfield wall had broken loose and was in danger of falling onto the
\n\t\tfield. The repairs were made, Ruth saved the day. What a guy! <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\t(#52, February 5, 1994). Fox had aired its special on the subject, and I had
\n\t\trecently been perusing The Joe Williams Baseball Reader <\/I>(Algonquin Books
\n\t\tof Chapel Hill, 1989.) Here is what I came up with when I started putting
\n\t\tthings together. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tsurely made enough references to this “event” over the past eleven (!) months,
\n\t\tthat my view of it is pretty well known: George Herman did not<\/I> say Read
\n\t\tMy Finger, and the idea of the “called shot” was hype, pure and simple … OK,
\n\t\tmaybe just simple. Let’s not be that naive. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\thour on this “controversial” subject. I hate to sound like a Grinch, but it’s
\n\t\tonly controversial for those who haven’t done much reading of the eye- and
\n\t\tear-witness accounts … OK, maybe that’s who Fox is targeting. Who reads
\n\t\tanymore? <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\treporter who was as close to Ruth as anyone in that era. “So it lives on, true
\n\t\tor untrue, depending on the version you wish to accept.” Williams could never
\n\t\tdraw Ruth out on the topic, and concluded that he deliberately avoided the
\n\t\tquestion. Ruth’s manager never agreed with the legendary version. Yankee Art
\n\t\tFletcher stated “There was no talk about it in the dugout at the time.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tgave birth to the myth. Joe Williams was the only journalist to see the
\n\t\tmiracle, and his reputation gave the story credibility. As Williams talked to
\n\t\tmore and more players, he realized that he had created — not a Frankenstein,
\n\t\tbut a Santa Claus — for a country full of Virginias. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tBabe Ruth was regarded by America’s fans: he was that good, he might have
\n\t\tdone it. He was that cocky — yeah, maybe he did call the homer<\/I>. Sixty-some
\n\t\tyears (and counting) later, what happened is much less important than what was
\n\t\tbelieved<\/I>. And that French proverb comes into play again: for those who
\n\t\tbelieve, no explanation is necessary; for those who do not believe, none is
\n\t\tpossible. <\/B> <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tWalker, a pal of Ruth’s. Walker and a hotel man had the Babe “nibbling on
\n\t\tnutritious, body-building scotch” one night, when they pinned him down. Ruth:
\n\t\t“I had two strikes on me and the pitcher was levelling with speed curves. We
\n\t\twere kiddin’ one another and I swept my arm, motioning to the outfield, trying
\n\t\tto rib him into a fastball. I was waiting for the pitch and when it came I
\n\t\tbelted the ball over the centerfield fence.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tinsisted that Ruth had meant to call his home run and point out where it would
\n\t\tgo.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tthe first I’d heard about the Babe “calling” the shot.'” — Joe
\n\t\tWilliams<\/B>, 7\/14\/65 <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tgreat legends, but I was there and saw what happened. Sure, he made a gesture,
\n\t\the pointed — but it wasn’t to call his shot. Listen, he was a great hitter and
\n\t\ta great character, but do you think he would have put himself on the spot like
\n\t\tthat?” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\thave done that to him and gotten away with it. Charlie Grimm told me the same
\n\t\tthing. ‘Root would have put that next pitch right into Ruth’s ear if Babe had
\n\t\ttried that on him,’ he said. Root was that way. He had a reputation as a
\n\t\thead-hunter.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\twas the center of things. Here’s what he said: <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t\tgonna hit him a home run today.’ <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t\tout to him, ‘Remember the little boy.’ And that’s when he pointed out and hit
\n\t\tthe home run. He’d already hit one, but I guess he figured that wasn’t enough.
\n\t\t<\/P>
\n\t
\n\t\tdon’t care what anybody says. He did it. He probably couldn’t have done it
\n\t\tagain in a thousand years, but he did it that time.” — Teammate Joe
\n\t\tSewell<\/B> in Honig<\/I> <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tthe center-field bleachers, and people are believing it. Ruth went along with
\n\t\tit, and why not? Just to show you how some people can be led along, I had a
\n\t\tgood friend who was at the game, and he swore to me later that Ruth pointed to
\n\t\tthe bleachers. ‘Forget it,’ I’d tell him, ‘I don’t want to hear about it.'” —
\n\t\tBurleigh Grimes<\/B> in Honig<\/I> <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tRuth’s “called shot,” which featured the never-before-telecast “Zapruder film
\n\t\tof baseball.” In case you missed it, a fan named Matt Campbell had his home
\n\t\tmovie camera at Wrigley Field that day in 1932 when the legend was born, and
\n\t\tthe lens were open at the decisive moment. Unfortunately, Mr Campbell did not
\n\t\thave box seats, so our view is from well behind third base. Mr. C. also kept a
\n\t\tjournal, by the way, and noted there that he had caught the Babe hitting two
\n\t\thomers, on his film, but mentions no gestures. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tnoted her dad “had a flair for doing the right thing at the right time,” and
\n\t\tafter viewing the film, exclaimed, “He really did.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tBabe are true,” then concluded that the argument about The Shot “doesn’t matter
\n\t\ta damn” — Ruth homered in response to taunting, and that’s all that counts.<\/p>\n
\n\t\tseen at Wrigley.) <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tconvinced that their memories were correct: Fan A, that Babe “in a very
\n\t\tarrogant way, pointed out to where he was going to hit a home run” — “I saw
\n\t\tit!” Fan B saw nothing like that. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\trecalled how he himself once called his shot, a game-winning homer in the 1964
\n\t\tSeries. “I called them about 500 times — that was the only one I hit!” he
\n\t\tadded. Reggie Jackson said “it had to be a Reggie Jackson or Babe Ruth type, a
\n\t\tMuhammad Ali type” of person to pull it off. After viewing the film, Reggie
\n\t\tsaid, “He was jawing — I don’t see a called shot here.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tWorld Telegram<\/I> story, the seed that sprouted the legend. (The NY
\n\t\tTimes<\/I> mentioned gestures, but none of the other print reports, and I think
\n\t\tthere were 16 in all, noted anything unusual.) <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tit, but then talked with catcher Gabby Hartnett, who told him Ruth was saying,
\n\t\t“that’s only two strikes.” Debunking is not pretty, and Jurges went on to say
\n\t\tthat he hoped this would not be the end of the legend, which is “good for
\n\t\tbaseball”. Bob Costas had a similar sentiment: “I’d like to believe….” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tOr does the tabloid treatment eventually cut everyone down to size, because
\n\t\tthat’s what we want today? “In the golden age they only knew what they wanted
\n\t\tto know, and what they wanted to know was that their sports stars were heroes.”
\n\t\tLupica concludes, “Maybe the problem is that we don’t want heroes anymore,” and
\n\t\twe can’t blame the athletes, “we did it to ourselves.” <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\twas 1994, when I had tickets. Most other summers, I slightly resent the
\n\t\tinterruption in the daily grind of the races (especially if my team is hot),
\n\t\tand the break cannot end soon enough. My collection of All Star memories is not
\n\t\tvast or particularly interesting. Exhibition games, y’know? <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tto watch than it has in recent years. Of course, it was in the afternoon, and I
\n\t\twas out of school. I mostly wanted to see how the players from the Pirates did.
\n\t\tOnce they were out, so was I. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tleagues, with each city taking its proper turn. Going to the Game when it came
\n\t\tto Pittsburgh, as it did in 1959, was never an option. (I never thought I’d
\n\t\tmake it to Disneyworld, either.) But I was proud to see old Forbes Field in
\n\t\tnational TV — that<\/I> game, I probably watched, and perhaps tried to
\n\t\tscore. I recall scoring just one time — it could have been ’59 — but because
\n\t\tit was such a headache with all the changes, once was enough. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t\tpattern of rotating the Game. I did a little research, and found out that the
\n\t\tpattern never was perfect, even the first time around: the second and tenth
\n\t\tgames were both held at the Polo Grounds, while the Phillies did not get to
\n\t\tplay host as the original sixteen franchises passed the baton. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tseventeenth game was played at old Comiskey, where the thing started in 1933.
\n\t\tThe next game went to Detroit, another AL city. The 22nd game went to Milwaukee
\n\t\t(NL), the 25th to Baltimore, and the 27th (the AL’s turn) to Los Angeles. The
\n\t\t“new” franchises, and then the expansion cities, totally confused things. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t\tthe AL & NL — I don’t think the rivalry is anything like it was, once upon
\n\t\ta time. Does the Home Run Derby get higher ratings now? This time around, there
\n\t\twas squawking about letting fans vote on the internet (apparently a late wave
\n\t\tof e-votes from New England buoyed Nomar G. over Derek J., for the starting AL
\n\t\tSS role.) So it goes. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tmissed the consensus highlight, Ted Williams the center of attention, a flash
\n\t\tof fine Fenway fantasyland. Then Red Sox (for now) hurler Ramon Martinez fans
\n\t\tfive (high fives all around), summoning the ghost of Carl Hubbell to join in
\n\t\tthe fun. I am looking forward to reading all about the Boston ‘Star Party in
\n\t\tthe next Buffalo Head Society<\/I> magazine. Play it again! <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tCooperstown, and even at Murnane Field (all night games), and even after
\n\t\tsundowns. I think the heat has kept the crowds down — I know I missed a few
\n\t\tgames when it was too hot to move much. But I’ve made more than I’ve missed,
\n\t\tand on one five-game home stand, I think I caught at least parts of each
\n\t\tcontest. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tfan friends, I almost always go the distance. (That is, I stay till the last
\n\t\tout.) When I wind up alone, I am more likely to bail out early. I wouldn’t
\n\t\tleave a no-hitter in progress, but the score is not a factor, I might hang
\n\t\taround till the end of a rare<\/I> blowout, or leave midway thru a tie game.
\n\t\tI’ve missed a few late-inning rallies this summer, and I regret that. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tcompany. Sometimes they even got into the games, and fought over who would keep
\n\t\tscore in my scorebook. Then they went mainly to hang out with friends, and now
\n\t\tthey are both driving and so are their friends, but not to baseball games. I am<\/p>\n
\n\t\tballpark, but I can wait five or ten years for that. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\thave to read the local paper. The local TV and radio stations give scores, but
\n\t\tnot much else, and none of the games, home or away, are televised or broadcast.
\n\t\tI’m convinced this missing link is a big factor in the attendance. I cannot
\n\t\timagine how thin my memories of the Pirates would be, if had only my ballpark
\n\t\tvisits and the newspapers to feed them. Radio and TV lure fans to the park,
\n\t\traise anticipation, set the stage. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tinvited to drop their names into a box in the first few innings. Five names
\n\t\twere drawn, and these lucky fans got a chance to win a new ($15,000) Saturn, if
\n\t\tthey could toss a baseball thru a hole in a wooden panel, from 60’6″ away —
\n\t\tfrom the mound to home plate. As it turned out, no one even hit the board, but
\n\t\tthe suspense was terrific! (My name was not drawn.) <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tthe game, as near as I can tell. So not one fan came on the chance of winning a
\n\t\tcar. This did increase the odds for the thousand-plus who showed, on a rainy
\n\t\tnight (the game started about 90 minutes late), but I think some good publicity
\n\t\tmight have filled the stands. On “Wegman’s Night” in Syracuse, just down the
\n\t\tthruway, the park is filled annually by fans who come to see if they can drive
\n\t\ta new car home. It’s a raffle, and everyone in the park has a shot, and the car
\n\t\twill<\/I> be won. It’s great, and the winner is drawn after<\/I> the game
\n\t\t(the Blue Sox did it mid-5th), so everyone sticks around and the concession
\n\t\tstands boom. Bill Veecks aren’t born every day, and perhaps they cannot be
\n\t\tmade. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tgames can make for interesting problems for baseball’s record bookkeepers. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tYet, his first major league hit came in a game played on April 20, same season.
\n\t\tHuh? Well, that April game was suspended, and completed in August, when Bonds,
\n\t\twho was now on the Bucs’ roster, came through with a game-winning single in the
\n\t\t17th inning. The game went into the book as an April 20 game, the date it
\n\t\tbegan. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tGwynn’s 3,000th hit. If he passes 3,000, then gets a hit in the suspended game
\n\t\tlater on, does his 2,999th hit now become elevated to the magic number? I would
\n\t\tguess not — but if you tried making a list of all 3,000+ Gwynn hits, using a
\n\t\tbook that catalogs box scores in chronological order — you might conclude
\n\t\tsomething else. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\trookie pheenom Joe Dee? Going into the suspended game, Joe has hit in 28
\n\t\tstraight. In<\/I> the suspended game, Joe goes hitless through five innings.
\n\t\tThen, after connecting in 28 more games, his streak is stopped (again?) A week
\n\t\tlater, the suspended game is resumed. Is the pressure now on for Joe to get a
\n\t\thit, to bridge the gap and break DiMaggio’s record? <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tJoe for the last innings in the resumed game? Would Steinbrenner step in and
\n\t\tpull off a trade to prevent Joe’s chance to break the streak of the Clipper?
\n\t\tWould the Commish intervene to prevent either of these moves? <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tcan be credited with a win and loss in the same game — that could happen. Can
\n\t\ta player hit a home run for both teams in the same game? Yup, if he’s traded to
\n\t\tthe right team. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\thome team in five innings in a game suspended after 4½ — he then
\n\t\t“starts” the resumed game, now hurling for the visitors, and fans fifteen more,
\n\t\tfor a fantastic total of 30 K’s (no dropped third strikes) in 9 innings! It
\n\t\tcould happen!<\/I> And it would be a record very<\/I> hard to break!! <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tthis way for a future issue of NOTES<\/I>. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tCooperstown since last winter, with a mix of dread and joy. While the country
\n\t\tof baseball pilgrimaged to its mecca to honor the Class of ’99, the country of
\n\t\tMTV converged on Rome, NY, for Woodstock ’99. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tof groups like Metallica, Korn, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers camped out at the
\n\t\tformer Griffiss Air Force Base — a site I once proposed here in Notes<\/I>
\n\t\t(#33, 9\/19\/93) for the baseball theme park, “Ballpark USA.” An estimated fifty
\n\t\tthousand fans of guys like Nolan Ryan and Robin Yount flocked into baseball’s
\n\t\tcapitol. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tfailed to happen. The two-lane roads surrounding both cities were packed at
\n\t\ttimes, but things kept moving. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tShadows, the local media also kept vigil.) It was an interesting weekend …
\n\t\tWillie Mays and Willie Nelson, Bush the politician and Bush the singer …
\n\t\tGeorges Brett and Clinton … the tragically flip (Pete Rose) and The
\n\t\tTragically Hip … Hornsbys Roger and Bruce … fans wooed and nude, all baking
\n\t\tunder the same summer sun. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tcould have a remote with fast forward, I would be there in person. I feel the
\n\t\tsame way about graduations, by the way. And if I shied away from the
\n\t\tCooperstown crowds, imagine how far I stayed away from Woodstock ’99. My kids
\n\t\tboth went Saturday night, and were disgusted by the garbage scene, but my son
\n\t\treturned Sunday for some groups he likes. Walked right in, both days, by the
\n\t\tway, security was probably tighter at the Hall. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\t200,000+ had descended on that city, instead of Rome, there would have been
\n\t\tproblems. Some of the troubles at Woodstock were in reaction to commercialism
\n\t\t(not to play down the drugs, the heat, and the bands who incited rioting.) In
\n\t\tCooperstown, there was also a lot of over-priced stuff (including autographs)
\n\t\tselling briskly everywhere. But the baseball folks generally kept their pants
\n\t\ton — literally and figuratively. (This was not the case with Disco Demolition
\n\t\tNight, two decades ago, when fans rioted enough around a bonfire to cause a
\n\t\tgame to be forfeited.) <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tthrough Bud Selig. At one point I was wishing he was on the East Stage, at the
\n\t\tcity to the north, where he surely would have been pelted with water bottles.
\n\t\tSelig still smells to me like the Strike of ’94-95, and now 2001 is getting
\n\t\twithin range. The odors of Woodstock were not pleasant either, but they will
\n\t\tpass, far swifter than those of The Strike. <\/P>
\n\t
\n\t
\n\t\tthat (or to Woodstock ’69.) Yet, I seemed to have done just that. Maybe
\n\t\tbaseball is<\/I> connected to everything else. <\/P><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"