The selling of the babe, p.31
The Selling of the Babe, page 31
Another bitter, tempestuous meeting ensued, followed by backroom arm-twisting, virtual bribery and threats, as Johnson and the Loyal Five resisted as long as possible, but in the end, faced with a threat from the National League and the Insurrectos to break off and form their own league—significantly, taking Ruth with them—they capitulated. The notion of a major league existing apart from Ruth was no longer tenable—that’s how big he was. In the end, baseball scrapped the old National Agreement that had governed baseball for decades, and adopted the commissioner system. On November 12, Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis, familiar with the sport through his work on both the Federal League case and the Black Sox scandal, agreed to become the first commissioner of baseball.
Ban Johnson was finished, a figurehead from here forward, but his league would continue on, in part due to his initial genius at its creation, but moving forward, fueled by the engine of Ruth, the home run, and the game he created. Johnson, totally by chance, had played a major role in that, but not in any way he ever intended or planned. It remains a lasting yet thoroughly accidental legacy. Johnson stayed on as AL president another six years, the bulk of his power gone, resigning because of ill health in 1927 before passing away on March 28, 1931.
Frazee had kept his team, and over the next few seasons the Red Sox would repeat their familiar pattern of getting off to a good start, then fading. Frozen out by the Loyal Five, Frazee stubbornly held on and tried to rebuild his ball club, but he simply could not compete with the juggernaut in New York. No one could, at least in the box office or the bank account. The Red Sox, after finishing fifth in 1920 and 1921, then fell to last place. Still, on Frazee’s terms, the Ruth sale had been a success and done exactly what he needed it to; he had saved his team, and protected its value. Midway through the 1923 season, he finally sold out, getting $1.2 million—twice what he had paid for the club, from a syndicate led by Bob Quinn. Frazee turned his full attention back to the theater. Opening first in Chicago in 1924, No, No, Nanette became a hit, made it to Broadway in 1925 and then overseas, earning Frazee millions. Unfortunately, he would have only five years to enjoy his success, dying of Bright’s disease on June 4, 1929. When he died, no one blamed him for anything.
Under Bob Quinn, the Red Sox sank to the very bottom as their main investor, Palmer Winslow, died, leaving the team underfinanced. In 1933, they were purchased by Tom Yawkey, who spent millions of the team, but under Yawkey and those who ran the franchise in the Yawkey tradition, saddled by mismanagement and institutional racism, the Red Sox failed to win another world championship until 2004. The spurious “Curse of the Bambino” would be invented out of whole cloth years later, a way to excuse the continuing failure of the Red Sox under Yawkey, who despite his wallet never won anything apart from a reputation as a bigot. Not until the Yawkey legacy was finally erased did the team manage to accomplish what it had last done in 1918, when Frazee owned the team and Ruth was a pitcher.
The deal worked for Joseph Lannin, too. He got his money from Frazee, made his real estate deal, and continued to find some success as a real estate developer. But on May 15, 1928, he fell—or jumped, or was pushed, no one was ever certain—from a narrow window of the Hotel Granada in Brooklyn, and died at age sixty-two.
It also worked for Jacob Ruppert. His big gamble paid off in every way possible, as Ruth outperformed even the most generous and optimistic expectations. Under Ruppert, the Yankees became a dynasty and Ruppert’s legacy became one not built from beer and politics, but baseball. By the time he passed on January 13, 1939, his Yankees had won seven world championships and the Yankees, who Ruppert and Huston purchased for less than a half million dollars, were valued at more than $3 million. And in 2014, he was finally inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame.
The game Ruth created reigned. Season by season, more and more players adopted his style of hitting, and in only a few years the old scientific style of baseball became an utter anachronism. New, younger sluggers, who grew up swinging the bat the way Ruth did, and not the way Cobb had, soon began entering the game. Lou Gehrig, Ruth’s teammate, a native New Yorker and Columbia graduate, was one of the first and perhaps the best of this new breed. Their success in tandem in the Yankee lineup fully relegated the old style of play to the history books, proof that Ruth was not singularly superhuman—not quite—but that his method and approach could be learned and put into practice by others. As result, major league attendance would maintain the lofty levels it reached in 1920, and never look back, surviving even the Depression and another world war. Everybody would make money off Ruth and his game. By the 1940s, there were no players left who had been active in the Dead Ball Era.
And Ruth himself? Fifty-four home runs in 1920 would be followed by 59 in 1921, and 60 in 1927. He would play at the highest level for the next decade, setting records too numerous to count. The Yankees would make the World Series for the first time in 1921, win it for the first time in 1923, and win three more titles with Ruth on the roster, becoming baseball’s dominant team and most enduring dynasty.
Off the field, Ruth remained much the same problematic, self-absorbed, guileless yet occasionally troublesome player he had been in Boston. While making records in New York he’d also suffered from venereal disease, alcoholism, gain a tremendous amount of weight, and suffer from a host of other physical maladies, be suspended by his team several times, reportedly be stabbed and shot at by angry husbands and jilted women, wreck any number of cars, leave his wife, and do all sorts of things that would have brought down any other man in the game … and be celebrated for it.
Ruth’s inherent, candid good nature was part of the reason, but so was the way his talent was inoculated by those around him. Ruth was too big to fail, too important to the game, and as Ruth’s career continued, his protectors became more adept. Home runs, it seemed, covered all sins large and small, and Ruth had a great time seeing just how true that was. So did sportswriters, and no one would have a greater influence on Ruth—or, in the end, cover more of his sins with boyish boosterish and often bamboozling goodwill—than a young writer named Christy Walsh. Late in 1920, Walsh met Ruth, and closed the sale for good.
An attorney by trade, Walsh first dabbled in the newspaper business before joining an auto company in advertising. After being fired, he returned to words and had his first big success in 1919, ghostwriting an account of the Indianapolis 500 for world war flying ace Eddie Rickenbacker, splitting the $800 fee. This gave Walsh the germ of an idea; he envisioned his own syndicate of athlete-authors, all backed by a stable of ghostwriters he would pluck from the pages of American newspapers.
There was nothing new about the idea itself—newspapers had featured such stories for years, but putting it all together under a single, organized umbrella, managed by one man, was. Walsh envisioned not just doing a single story with an athlete and then moving on, but—for lack of a better phrase—building a brand.
Who better to start with than Ruth? Walsh had briefly met the Babe in 1919, but by the end of the 1920 season, even as it became more and more obvious that Ruth needed some kind of financial help and advisor, Ruth was beginning to use a bit more caution with whom he met and invited to his apartment. Walsh used to wait outside and Ruth repeatedly brushed him off. At the same time, Ruth was besieged by offers for endorsements and investments and business deals of all kinds. He was ill equipped to sort them out and after the debacle with the film, and now the Black Sox scandal, increasingly untrusting.
Walsh finally worked a ruse to get an audience with Ruth, making a delivery of beer. Once inside, he got Ruth’s ear and peppered him with questions about his business deals. When he discovered Ruth was putting his name to a small, syndicated series of stories for only $5 an article, Walsh told Ruth he could get him at least 500 bucks to put his name on anything.
That got Ruth’s attention. Walsh went off with Ruth’s tacit permission to act as his agent, and came back the next day with a contract, pushing it through the gated door. Ruth signed it and Walsh left, promising to return with cash. When he did, he produced a more formal document. It promised that Walsh would solicit “syndicated baseball columns” ghostwritten “by qualified sporting writers” and signed “By Babe Ruth.” In return, Walsh indicated “I agree to pay you Fifty (50) Percent of the gross receipts, a special consideration. My profit and all office and syndicating expenses, including printing, postage etc. will come from the balance.” Ruth scrawled his name to the contract.
With that signature, the Babe became the first baseball player to sign with an agent. Walsh eventually became his closest friend and most trusted advisor, protecting both his reputation and his bank account.
From that moment on, the selling of the Babe was a full-fledged business. The modern game—the Babe’s game—was now fully in place.
Babe Ruth and Boston teammates Ernie Shore, Rube Foster, and Del Gainer, circa 1915. By 1920, Ruth’s days as a pitcher for the Red Sox would almost be forgotten. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division
Theatrical producer and Red Sox owner Harry Frazee (center), the man who sold Babe Ruth … and had good reason to. Stuffy McInnis is to his right; Jack Barry is to his left. Leslie Jones Collection. Courtesy of the Trustees of the Boston Public Library
American League founder and President Ban Johnson, rightly referred to as the “Czar” of baseball, and a man who “never forgets an enemy.” Michael T. “Nuf Ced” McGreevey Collection. Courtesy of the Trustees of the Boston Public Library
Philadelphia Athletic owner and manager Connie Mack. Before the 1918 season, Mack dealt several stars to the Red Sox, delivering a pennant to Boston. Michael T. “Nuf Ced” McGreevey Collection. Courtesy of the Trustees of the Boston Public Library
Chicago White Sox owner Charles Comiskey joined Frazee and Ruppert in opposition to Ban Johnson. Michael T. “Nuf Ced” McGreevey Collection. Courtesy of the Trustees of the Boston Public Library
Yankee co-owner Jacob Ruppert, (left), standing next to New York Giants manager John McGraw (center), saw how Ruth performed at the plate in the Polo Grounds and set his sights on the emerging star. With Prohibition on the horizon, the beer baron needed his ballclub to win … and draw fans. Courtesy of the Trustees of the Boston Public Library
Catholic religious ceremony at Fenway Park, circa 1919. This photo is perhaps the best view of Fenway Park as Ruth transitioned to the outfield. Built in 1912, by 1919 Fenway already looked worn and tired. It was no Polo Grounds, which featured an inviting right field porch. Boston Sports Temples Collection. Courtesy of the Trustees of the Boston Public Library
Fenway’s left field wall circa 1919. Fenway Park didn’t suit Ruth, and not until 1919 did he even begin to use the left field wall to his advantage. Boston Sports Temples Collection. Courtesy of the Trustees of the Boston Public Library
Harry Hooper. Ruth’s teammate, Red Sox right fielder, and onfield leader. Hooper, not manager Ed Barrow, had the respect of the players. George Grantham Bain Collection, Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division
Babe Ruth with the Red Sox at Fenway Park, 1919. George Grantham Bain Collection, Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division
Babe Ruth, 1921. In New York, Ruth became baseball’s most-beloved figure. George Grantham Bain Collection, Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division
What was the difference between Boston and New York for Ruth? In New York, he became “the Babe,” the man everyone, even President Warren G. Harding, wanted to meet. Leslie Jones Collection. Courtesy of the Trustees of the Boston Public Library
Notes
Please note that some of the links referenced in this work are no longer active.
Introduction
There are thousands upon thousands of words credited to Ruth’s lips: A particularly good discussion of Ruth and the role his ghostwriters played in his life appears in Kal Wagenheim, Babe Ruth: His Life and Legend (New York: Henry Holt, 1974).
Prologue: September 11, 1918
In the eighth inning of the sixth and final game: Composite details of Game 6 of the 1918 World Series were re-created from several sources, namely game reports dated September 12, 1918, from the following newspapers: Boston Globe, Boston Post, Boston Herald and Journal, Boston American, New York Times, and Chicago Tribune. Also useful were the author’s previous accounts of the 1918 World Series: “1918,” Boston Magazine, October 1987, pp. 141–47; and “The Last Champions,” New England Sport, Summer 1993, pp. 23–31; and in Richard Johnson and Glenn Stout, Red Sox Century (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1999), pp. 133–34.
Boston’s left fielder: George Whiteman’s role in the series is discussed in detail in F. C. Lane, “Hero of the Series,” Baseball Magazine, November 1918.
1. George Herman Ruth
“I saw a man”: Harry Hooper as quoted by Lawrence Ritter in his oral history, The Glory of Their Times (New York: Macmillan, 1984), p. 137.
When George Ruth arrived: As explained in the head notes to the Bibliography, in addition to newspaper accounts, three books were of particular help in re-creating the events of 1918 in this and subsequent chapters: Allan Wood’s 1918: Babe Ruth and the World Champion Boston Red Sox (New York: Writers Club, 2000); Kerry Keene, Ray Sinibaldi, and David Hickey’s The Babe in Red Stockings (Champaign, Ill.: Sagamore, 1997); and Ty Waterman and Mel Springer’s The Year the Red Sox Won the World Series (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1999).
spring training in Hot Springs, Arkansas: Boston’s trip to Hot Springs is described from the following: “Red Sox Take Ozark Trail Today,” Boston Daily Globe, March 9, 1918; and “Eibel Fails to Join Red Sox in Albany,” Boston Daily Globe, March 10, 1918. Other events of spring training are primarily built from press reports in the Boston Globe and Boston Post, March 1918. Useful background on Hot Springs as a spring training site can be found in Tim Gay, Tris Speaker (Guilford, Conn.: Lyons/University of Nebraska, 2007); Paul Zingg, Harry Hooper (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1993); and Richard A. Johnson and Glenn Stout, Red Sox Century (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1999).
Ruth’s performance finally earned him a big contract: According to Ruth’s contract, his initial salary in 1918 was $5,000. A facsimile appears here: http://news.yahoo.com/babe-ruth-s-1919-contract-sells-for—1-02-million-at-auction-140200668.html.
He just wasn’t like other players: Average size of war recruits is discussed here: http://www.tommy1418.com/wwi-facts—figures—myths.html. Ruth’s height and address in Boston appear on his draft card, available here: http://www.archives.gov/atlanta/wwi-draft/ruth.html.
“he bends things of metal”: Boston Post, January 12, 1918.
He didn’t even use the same bat as other players: Depending on the source, the weight of the bat used by Ruth is usually described as anywhere between 37 ounces and 54 ounces, the 54-ounce bat usually cited as the bat Ruth used in 1918 but only in spring training thereafter. Records held by Louisville Slugger indicate that after 1920 Ruth generally ordered bats between 40 and 47 ounces. See http://www.ask.com/sports-active-lifestyle/weight-babe-ruth-s-bat-44377e44b466a6d9#.
Batavia Street became so notorious the city later renamed it: Nation’s Cities v. 16–17, National League of Cities; American Municipal Association. n.d. p. 17.
With the average yearly household income: Average American income in 1918 is provided by the National Bureau of Labor Statistics: http://www.bls.gov/opub/uscs/1918-19.pdf.
The basics of his biography: For basic biographical details in regard to Ruth’s early life, see Robert Creamer, Babe: The Legend Comes to Life (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992); and Wagenheim, Babe Ruth.
“Ruth’s power”: Boston Post, January 11, 1918.
After studying law and working for a newspaper, the young Johnson: Basic background on Ban Johnson, as well as some information in regard to Johnson’s war with Frazee, can be found in Eugene Murdock, Ban Johnson: Czar of Baseball (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood, 1982).
Still, no one was quite sure how the war would affect the game: Basic background information on the impact of World War I on major league baseball can be found in Harold Seymour, Baseball—The Golden Age (New York: Oxford University Press, 1971).
Who was Harry Frazee?: Harry Frazee’s basic biography appears in F. C. Lane, “The Fire Brand of the American League,” Baseball Magazine, March 1919, p. 676; and “H. H. Frazee,” New York Clipper, June 8, 1912, p. 3.
“essentially show business”: Lane, “The Fire Brand of the American League,” p. 676.
Why, he even employed black actors: In regard to Frazee’s relationship with African Americans, in addition to backing black boxers and hiring black actors, documents in his archive indicate he made substantial donations to Fisk University, the historically black college in Nashville, Tennessee. One letter from Fisk asks for $100,000.
“never forgets an enemy”: Murdock, Ban Johnson.
“the heaviest financial deal”: Boston Herald and Journal, January 11, 1918.
“Well, Ed”: Boston American, February 16, 1918.
2. This Means War
“I’d be the laughingstock”: Creamer, Babe, p. 152.
“‘Hal Chase’ Ruth”: Boston Globe, March 18, 1918.
Although it was about 360 feet to the fence: Background on Whittington Park and Hot Springs baseball can be found at http://www.hotspringsbaseballtrail.com/.
“He could experiment at the plate”: Creamer, Babe, p. 109.
“This is getting painful”: Boston Globe, March 21, 1918.
“the colossus”: Keene, Sinibaldi, and Hickey, The Babe in Red Stockings, p. 156.
“the right field pavilion”: Boston Post, March 24, 1918.
