Babe Ruth

The Bambino, The Sultan of Swat

The Sulan of Swat. The Home Run King. The Bambino. You know we're talking about George Herman "Babe" Ruth.

Today baseball without the central role of the home run would be unthinkable. But before Babe's time the homer was no more important than a stand-up triple is today. Nice to have, certainly, but not important for winning games. That changed in 1920 when Babe hit 54 home runs. Then the next year it was 59, and then in 1927 Babe smashed in 60 - a record that stood until 1961 when Roger Maris broke Babe's seasonal record by one.

As for his childhood, the Babe grew up in a rough neighborhood in Baltimore. Because he got into so much trouble - he was a "handful" to use modern jargon - his folks sent him to St. Mary's, the local "industrial school" for boys. The school was run by a Jesuit order and is sometimes referred to as a "reform" school. That is a reasonably accurate characterization but it is a bit oversimplifying the school and its function. Certainly some of the kids there had run afoul of the law and had been placed there by the courts. But others, like Babe, had been placed there by their parents, some of whom, again like Babe's folks, turned over legal guardianship of their kids to the brothers. (Contrary to popular belief a "brother" is not "father", ergo, a priest. "Brothers" are essentially male nuns, a distinction that once caused Dorothy Kilgallen to misguess when the "What's My Line" mystery guest was Edward G. Robinson. The blindfolded Dorothy asked Edward if he had ever played a priest in a movie. Edward correctly said no, as the part had been that of a brother.)

For a kid who had been used to running around the streets and doing pretty much what he wanted - smoking, drinking, stealing, and raising Cain - the environment of the school was confined and restricted. You were not allowed to leave without special permission, and the grounds - surrounded by a wall - did have the look of a prison. From the clichéd accounts - such as those told in the stories of James T. Farrell - you would expect the boys were subjected to arbitrary corporal punishment by near sadists who had no business being associated with trying to educate and redirect wayward kids. That was decidedly not the case.

The "disciplinarian" of the school - a Brother Mathias - was a huge man, yes, six and a half feet tall. But despite his intimidating appearance, he was not the usual enforcer of popular myth. He dealt with infractions a firm but fair manner, and there are no records to show he ever smacked the kids. He could "handle" his charges, regardless of their age, size, or number, and he never even had to raise his voice. Once a fight broke out in the playground, and it soon developed into a near riot. Suddenly the figure of Brother Mathias loomed above the boys, and all action and noise ceased. But as intimidating as he was, virtually all the boys from the school remembered him with respect and admiration. "He was the greatest man I ever knew," Babe said.

St. Mary's did exactly what it was supposed to do. It turned Babe away from what would have been at best a life of poverty and crime toward more productive activities. The brothers were a practical bunch and trained the kids in some useful occupation. Babe left the school as a fully qualified tailor and was actually quite good at it. At the same time the instructors could recognize when their charges had non-mainstream talent. Soon they - particularly Brother Mathias - saw that young George had the stuff to be a professional ball player.

In today's world where there is 24/7 365-a-year non-stop sports broadcasting covering football, basketball, hockey, tennis, golf, curling, skiing, car racing, and poker, it's hard to believe that in Babe's day there were only three - count 'em - three professional sports of any interest: boxing, horse racing, and baseball (although with Knute Rockne at Notre Dame, college football was becoming increasingly popular). But it was baseball that really was the national pastime. College recruiting didn't bring in the majority of players, and professional scouts looked for talent wherever kids played ball.

Exactly how the Orioles noticed Babe isn't clear. As usual, there are different stories. But St. Mary's did have a reputation for fielding a good team, and since Babe showed unusual skill the brothers permitted him to go out on weekends to play in amateur and semi-professional leagues around town. So it was inevitable that he would have been noticed by the scouts. Whatever the cause, at the age of nineteen, Babe left St. Mary's to play for the Baltimore Orioles. This was a big step for a kid from the streets even though he was traded in a few months to the Boston Red Sox.

Babe was a good pitcher - a very good pitcher with a lifetime ERA of 2.28. This is not only lower than that of Don Drysdale, Tom Seaver, and Sandy Koufax, but ranks #17 in the entire history of baseball! Within two years of being signed to the majors Babe won an extra inning game in the World Series. But it was his batting that began to raise some eyebrows, and he was soon hitting over .300.

By 1919 Babe was good enough to demand double his salary and not quite good enough to get it. So he held out, causing Ty Cobb (who at that time couldn't stand Babe), to question the young upstart's integrity. After all, said Ty (then Detroit's player-manager) a contract was a contract. To resolve the impasse, Boston simply traded Babe to New York, and so started the "Curse of the Bambino" which - so the superstition goes - prevented the Red Sox from winning a World Series until 2004. For what it's worth, New York did give the Babe his pay hike, and as Babe's hitting got better, they took him off the mound and put him into the outfield so he could be in the batting lineup every day.

Myths and legends abound about the Babe. Some are even true. The pictures of Babe smiling with a gaggle of admiring kids were not just arranged by crafty publicists. Since his childhood had not been particularly happy he was genuinely sympathetic to kids in general and to underprivileged kids in particular. He took the time to visit children's hospitals and orphanages, and he did this without thought for publicity. His friends remembered that for every visit where photographers came along, there were ten visits where the Babe just showed up on his own.

But Babe, like all adults, could still be a bit curt with kids. He played exhibition games, often in small towns, and once a young girl - she was about ten - had been dared by her friends to ask Babe for an autograph. When she saw him standing on the sidelines she walked up and asked for his signature. She handed him a notebook and also a pen which had been given to her for her birthday. Babe took the book and signed his name.

"Don't sell it," he said.

The girl then said her friends all wanted an autograph too. Babe frowned and kept writing his name until he filled out the rest of the page. Then he handed over the notebook, put the girl's birthday pen in his pocket, and walked away.

Sorting the wheat truth from the tall-tale chaff from a Babe Ruth story is not easy. Everyone knows the story of Babe visiting a dying boy in a hospital, giving him an autographed bat and ball, and promising to hit him a home run. Babe's visit and the bat and the ball, we learn, so inspired the boy that he got back his will to live.

The real story isn't quite as dramatic but it did happen more or less. Johnny Sylvester, came from a well-to-do family and had been horseback riding with some friends when his horse had stepped into a hole and fallen. At that point Johnny wasn't hurt, but as the horse got up it kicked him in the head. The injury developed in to osteomyelitis, that is, deterioration on the bone due to infection. Bone infections are slow to heal even today and in the pre-antibiotic days, could be extremely serious. Johnny did not improve, and as he became increasingly lethargic and depressed, the doctors were afraid Johnny would die.

To cheer him up, Johnny's parents asked him if there was anything he would like. He said he'd like a ball that had been used in the World Series that was currently being played between St. Louis and New York. Johnny's dad, Horace, was vice president of the National City Company. Horace's company was affiliated with the National City Bank whose vice-president, George Buckley, had contacts with the sports world. So Horace asked George if he could possibly get Johnny a baseball from the series. George said he could and would get it signed by all the players.

Well, George was as good as his word, and the ball arrived with the players' autographs. In the center was the Babe's signature with the note "I'll knock a home run for [you] Wednesday". Babe smacked in the homer (and more during the series). Although the Yanks lost the title, Johnny recovered quickly, and his mother maintained his fever dropped two degrees on receiving the ball. In fairness to everyone, the Cardinals had also sent Johnny a team-autographed ball, and Red Grange, the football great, sent Johnny an autographed football.

There's a coda here which may or may not be true although it was reported in Babe's lifetime. Not long afterwards, Johnny's uncle was at a ball game and saw Babe autographing balls. He introduced himself as Johnny Sylvester's uncle and said he wanted to thank Babe for what he had done.

"That's all right," Babe said. "Glad to do it. How is Johnny?"

"He's fine," Johnny's uncle said. "He's home, and everything looks okay."

"That's good," said Babe. "Give him my regards." The man walked away.

"Now who the hell is Johnny Sylvester?" Babe asked.

Given the solid documentation of the Johnny Sylvester story, this story is either inaccurate or simply an example of Babe's sardonic humor. Babe himself wrote Johnny a letter, and there are contemporary photographs of Johnny and Babe together. One was a re-enacting Babe's "visit" in the hospital and another was taken the next year with Johnny (with his head still bandaged) standing with Babe during the World Series. The Yankees did win this one. Babe and Johnny stayed in touch as long as Babe lived. The last photo of Babe autographing a ball for Johnny was taken in 1947 when Johnny was 32 and Babe in his fifties.

Such stories of Babe's generosity were common in the Ozzie and Harriet days in the 1950's and before. But in the rebellious '60's came the deluge of salacious and risque anecdotes about the Babe that sell so much copy. Many of the stories about Babe the party animal are also true and should surprise no one. After all when Babe got out of St. Mary's, he was making a good salary, and he saw no reason not to enjoy himself. And when we say enjoy, we mean enjoy.

Babe's partying got him in a lot of trouble with Yankee manager Miller Huggins - complete with fines and suspensions. Eventually, though, Babe came to an understanding with Miller on how much he could party during the season. Of course, Babe couldn't always live up to his part of the bargain. A not atypical Babe story was the time when the Yankees played in Philadelphia. A boxing promoter had invited Babe's teammate, Herb Pennock, to a fancy party in Wilmington, Delaware. Herb asked the Babe if he'd come along. Babe said sure, and Miller told them they could go, but to be back in time to get a good night's rest for the next day's game.

Of course, with Babe present the party was quite the success. He was having a fine time and was soon surrounded by an admiring group composed of distinguished looking men in black tie and elegant ladies in evening gowns who wanted to talk baseball. As the night grew late, the boxing promoter said maybe they should be getting back. Babe pointed to a sweet young thing (one of the maids) and said he'd go only she'd go along with them. The promoter said he could provide better, and both men repaired to one of Philadelphia's fancy sporting establishments - and we don't mean they went back to the club house.

The next morning as the sun broke over the Delaware River, the promoter told Babe they really should be going. The Babe, sitting in a chair with two young pretties perched on each knee, said he wasn't leaving anytime soon. The promoter then left Babe to his own devices.

Well, the Babe did show up in time for the game. But despite not looking his best and suffering the effects of what must have been an exhausting and sleepless night, Babe went four for four: two homers and two triples.

Babe had a rather impish sense of humor often pushed the boundaries of propriety. On one hot August day, the Yankees were playing in Washington and President Calvin Coolidge attended. Naturally before the game the team members lined up to shake the Presidential hand. As the men walked by, they greeted the President.

"Good morning, Mr. President," said one team member.

"How do you do, sir," said another.

"Hot as hell, ain't it, Prez?" said Babe.

Babe even starred in films, one of the first sports figures to do so. This was a time when movies could be filmed in a few days, and running time was between ten minutes and an hour. Some of the pictures are still available although the quality - both technical and artistic - varies. Some, though, are amusing enough.

In one short, Fancy Curves, Babe coaches a women's baseball team (after getting the OK from his wife). After Babe shows the girls the rudiments of pitching, hitting, and fielding, they go up against a man's team. Naturally the guys are winning, and by the last inning the girls need four more runs to win. So with the bases loaded, Babe dons a wig, minces up the home plate, and blasts a grand slam. But as he tips his hat to the crowd, the wig comes off, and the opposing team, realizing they've been had, haul after him. The film ends with Babe jumping onto the top of a car as it drives off.

All in all Babe puts in a credible performance given the style of acting for the era and the pressures on his time. In his films he would shoot some scenes in the morning and have to scramble to get back to the ball park in time for a game - often still wearing his white pancake makeup.

There are many more stories about the Babe, told first hand by his friends. Among them are the ones like ...

Well, since this is a family website, perhaps these tales should be reserved for a section of .

There's one thing about Babe that is not a myth. Babe and his play definitely changed the nature of the game. Before he began his slugging fest, home runs were few and far between. They were flukes, likened to a stand-up triple today. They were nice to have, yes, but not that important for winning a game.

Babe, though, inaugurated the era of the slugger. In 1919, Babe hit a surprising 29 homers. That broke the record for yearly homers set back in 1884 by Ned Williamson. But the next year Babe hit 54 homers and then the next year it was 59.

In 1927, Babe had his famous 60 homer season. That was the year the Yankees had the famous "Murderer's Row" as the starting lineup. Babe was third and Lou Gehrig - who hit 47 homers that year - batted clean-up.

Everyone knows the Babe hit a total of 714 home runs, and that his record stood until Hank Aaron broke the record in 1974 with 755. And of course there's Babe's 60 homer record in a single season that stood until 1961 when Roger Maris finally beat him by one. But Babe played only 152 games, and Roger hit his last 1961 homer in game 163. So you can say Babe's record stood until 1998 - 69 years after Babe's big year - when Mark McGwire hit 70 home runs with his 62nd coming in game 145.

But for true Babe Ruth fans, Babe was the Sultan of Swat and no one else. They will gleefully point out that given various - ah - "circumstances" of the modern games, Babe has the record in both total and per-season homers. One thing that is particularly relevant in claiming Babe is supreme is that the rules have changed in favor of the player. One author has argued that using modern criteria for fair balls Babe should be given credit for 104 homers in 1921. That may be a bit much but there is little doubt Babe would have had more homers if he had gone by today's rules, with modern equipment, and played in today's parks.

Babe got along fairly well with his teammates but he took offense easily. Friendly at first with Lou Gehrig, later Babe refused to speak to him after Lou's mom made what Babe thought was an unnecessary remark about his tomboy daughter. Babe and Ty's animosity got so bad that their taunts often exploded into fights which in turn resulted in fines and suspensions.

Babe, though, was not a man to carry a grudge forever. When Lou had to quit the game because of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (now usually called Lou Gehrig's disease) Babe and he were reconciled. Even Babe and Ty later became friends and even went on tour in a golf tournament, which by the way, Babe won.

After 1934, Babe left New York for the Boston Braves. He retired during the mid-season of 1936. He had made enough money - astutely handled by his second wife Clare - and he was able to live well, making personal appearances and indulging in his addiction to golf. Then in 1946 Babe was diagnosed with throat cancer and died two years later.

References

Babe: The Legend Comes to Life, Robert Creamer, Simon and Schuster (1974). The reviewers consistently place this as the best biography although there have been later and good books about the Babe. Robert had the advantage of being able to talk to people who knew the Babe personally but also to write in an era where you could discuss the Babe's foibles frankly.

The Year Babe Ruth Hit 104 Home Runs: Recrowning Baseball's Greatest Slugger, Bill Jenkinson, Carroll and Graf (2007). Bill claims that Babe would have hit 104 homers if he had the same rules baseball has today.

Ty and the Babe: The Incredible Saga of Baseball's Fiercest Rivals, the Forging of a Surprising Friendship, and the Battle for the 1941 Has-Beens Golf Championship, Tom Stanton, Thomas Dunne Books (2007). A nice book which portrays Ty as not quite the ogre of popular legend. Ty, although often rather nasty on the field, was able to leave rivalry after the game and eventually he and Babe got along well enough.

Babe & The Kid: The Legendary Story of Babe Ruth and Johnny Sylvester, Charlie Poekel, The History Press (2007). A good documentation of the story of Babe and Johnny Sylvester.

"Babe Ruth Day", Life Magazine, May 12, 1947. This story covers the honoring of Babe Ruth a year before he died. It naturally mentioned (and had pictures) of Babe and Johnny. It also mentioned the "Who is Johnny Sylvester" quote, a story given in more detail in the Babe: The Legend Comes to Life cited above. So the story was circulating when Babe was alive.

Baseball-Reference.com.