AND ALONG CAME RUTH
Robert W. Creamer
March 18, 1974
Out of a fascinating new book on America's best-remembered sporting god strides the young Babe. It is 1919, the World War is over, and the country, like Ruth, is euphoric. The Babe has an enormous appetite for baseball—and the pleasures of the night. In his zest he becomes a hero whose like had never been seen before, and may not be again.
Fans generally were more realistic. "For the love of Mike," one Red Sox rooter said in disgust, "I give up." Another prescient follower of Boston baseball said, succinctly, "I figure the Red Sox is ruined." A policeman commented, "From what I can see, there no longer is any sentiment in baseball." During the season that followed, Frazee had posters put up in Fenway Park advertising a show of his called My Lady Friends. A disgusted fan jerked his thumb at the poster and said, "Those are the only friends he has."
In California, Ruth was a bit taken aback by Frazee's comments and the sensation the news of the sale created. For some reason, perhaps sentiment, perhaps with the idea of strengthening his hand with Ruppert and Huston, perhaps with an eye on cigar sales, he sent a wire to Boston saying, WILL NOT PLAY ANYWHERE ELSE, MY HEART IS IN BOSTON. A cynic said, "He means that's where his cigar factory is."
New York felt a lot better about the whole thing, although
The New York Times
ran an editorial titled "The High Price of Home Runs" comparing the money that was paid for Ruth to the salary being paid a visiting professor at a city university. In New Jersey, where he was working in a shipyard, Ping Bodie, the incumbent Yankee leftfielder, said, "I suppose this means I'll be sent to China."
Ruth stayed in California another month before returning to Boston. Late in February he said goodby to Helen and left for New York to join his new club on its trip South to spring training. The Yankee dynasty was about to begin.
