THE HOUSE THAT RUTH BUILT & MURDERERS ROW
We all caught one of the launches back to shore saying goodbye to our Japanese friends. They went off to join their companions who were boarding a bus to Yankee Stadium as a group, guests of the management. Lauren asked what does ‘san’ mean after Japanese names?
“It means honorable, it is polite to add it. If they want to be rude, they don’t add it see?”
We ‘hoofed’ it to Columbus Avenue to catch a 9th Avenue Elevated local which would get us to Yankee Stadium. It was cool to ride the old wooden cars over ‘suicide curve’ where the line snakes east at 110th Street high above the street, to Anderson Ave, just north of the stadium.
It looked strange to see the stadium, new in 1923, not surrounded by buildings but somewhat desolate in the midst of open fields. We trudged through the vacant lots to the main entrance. It did not look crowded, in fact, according to the NY Times report the next day, only just over 7000 people attended the game. Night baseball had not yet been invented, most games were in the afternoon, weekday or no.
We had no trouble getting excellent seats a few rows up behind home plate at the steep price of $1.10 each, right next to the group of Japanese officers sitting stiffly in their seats, including Tora-san who waved at us. I explained to the kids that the right-field ‘bleachers’ or uncovered bargain seats were full. That was where Babe Ruth normally walloped his home runs, and many a person hoped to get one of his baseballs as a prized souvenir.
It was an amazing piece of Americana, here we were in Yankee Stadium in the salad days of baseball.
“Kids, we are about to watch some of America’s greatest athletes, the Babe, first baseman Lou Gehrig, probably the best all-around baseball player ever, part of ‘Murderer’s Row ……”
“Murderer’s Row? What’s that?” they asked.
“Probably one of the most fearsome offenses in the history of baseball,” I told them, “The Yankee’s top batters: Earl Combs, Mark Koenig, Babe Ruth, Larrupin’ Lou Gehrig, Bob Meusel and Tony Lazzeri in that order. If a pitcher was lucky enough to strike out Ruth, he’d still have to face Gehrig. 1927 was one of their best years after losing the series in 1926 to the St. Louis Cardinals, who also had a fantastic hitter, ‘Rajah’ Roger Hornsby. He got more base hits, though not home runs, than just about anybody, even Ruth.”
“Probably an even better offense was the 1919 Chicago ‘Black Sox,’” I explained enthusiastically.
“Black Sox?” Lauren asked.
“Ah, one of the greatest tragedies in sports. Gamblers tried to ‘fix’ the 1919 World Series, getting some of the Chicago White Sox players to take money to ‘throw’ the games. How’s that for gall? When a team or player is expected to win, a gambler can win a lot more money betting against them rather than on them. Gambling like that is illegal anyway, mainly gangsters do it.”
“The 1919 White Sox were probably the finest baseball team to ever take the field so they were a cinch to win the Series. The gamblers wanted to pay them to lose because they could make so much more money betting on the other team… it all fell apart, and the players’ reputations never recovered, although proven innocent. We’ll never know how well they could have played.”
“Can we see them play?” Lauren asked innocently.
“You may have an interesting idea, it would be great to watch them win the pennant at least, let’s see - we have so much time tripping to do.”
The game started at 3:30 pm. I was thrilled to be HERE! It was wonderful! People of every stripe, lots of straw skimmer hats, a few women, but mostly men in the crowd, the cries of the vendors:
“Peanuts! Getcha hot peanuts!! Hot dogs! Getcha Red Hots!”
We each got a bag of hot steaming peanuts, and cokes (no beer was available, of course). The hot dogs were marvelous (nothing like a Bronx hot dog, lemme tell ya’!) old-fashioned dogs, tied together on the ends. The vendor had his mustard pot, brushing each dog with a generous swath of mustard, no ketchup available (I had to apologize to Lauren about that bit). They burst open with scalding juice at first bite, as a good dog should. You can keep your caviar…
The first inning, with two strikes against him, Ruth hit one off Senator pitcher Horace Lisenbee, a low line drive into the right field bleachers. The crowd was on its feet, roaring. A big guy next to us in a light suit and straw boater smacked me on the shoulders with his newspaper:
“That makes number 58! Yea!!!!”
The Babe took his turn around the bases, surprisingly agile, as he was in right field running to catch a fly ball.
In front of us were a couple of cool customers, one in a Derby hat with a big flower in his lapel that said ‘gangster’ with two likely-looking ‘assistants’ that looked like they could take care of themselves. Like a cliche’ from a B-Movie a very beautiful girl in a white fur wrap and matching cloche hat, dripping with diamonds, was also sitting next to ‘Derby Hat’ and the only one applauding. ‘Derby Hat’ wasn’t applauding but muttering to one of his ‘boys’ who was taking it down. I whispered to the kids to take a good look, that those guys may be gangsters down front. They both looked at the group with evident satisfaction.
“That really a gangster?” Jonathan asked wide-eyed.
“Could be, maybe just a gambler….”
“Cool!”
Second inning, the Babe hit a line drive for a triple, almost a home run. The Senators gave as good as they got in the beginning, a home run by Reeves in the second inning. They also got one in the fifth. Then the Yankees did it again in the fifth inning. With bases loaded, Senator pitcher Paul Hopkins threw the ball that the Bambino socked high into the right field bleachers, driving in 4 runs, majestically tagging the bases, shaking hands with Gehrig waiting next at bat. The crowd went wild, my neighbor almost beat me to death with his paper, beside himself, crying
“That’s fifty-nine!! Fifty-NINE!!!! Tied his 1921 record!!! Yeah, yeah, yeah!!”
“That’s fifty-nine!! Fifty-NINE!!!!”
The Japanese officers, who earlier had lost their cool and got up to chase a foul ball, one holding it in grinning triumph, were cheering wildly, the people in the bleachers going crazy. The kids were jumping with the excitement. That called for another hot dog. I was choking back tears of joy, not believing I was REALLY here and would be here tomorrow too. Only ‘Derby Hat’ was not jumping up and down, just politely applauding, his ‘girl’ though was going crazy like the rest of the crowd.
The rest of the game was an anti-climax, the Yankees smoking the Senators 15-4. The crowd held their breath each time Ruth stepped up to the plate anxious that the Babe would sock one more to break his all-time record. Only Gehrig came close in homers, with 46 that year. There had been a home-run derby of sorts earlier in the season, until it was clear the Sultan of Swat was way ahead of Larrupin’ Lou. Well, Ruth would have to wait until tomorrow.
“Will he hit his 60th home run tomorrow?” Lauren asked.
“I hope so, since we are going to the Yankee’s game tomorrow as well.”
“You said he hit 60, Lito.” Jonathan said.
“It’s true, but let’s see.”
The man in the light suit who had torn his newspaper smacking my shoulder with it in excitement overheard us:
“Oh, he’ll hit his 60th tomorrow or Saturday, you can bet he will, everyone’s counting on it!” he said with enthusiasm. “The smart money is on Ruth, a lot of people have money down that he will…oh, sorry, your kids,” he said apologetically.
“Yeah,” I told him “Gambling huh? Nice example for them.”
“Sorry buddy,” he said.
The game was over and the crowd was getting up, Tora-san came over and wished us a good day, enthusiastic about the game, could not get over Ruth’s home runs. I asked him if he had to go back to the ship? He said he had shore leave until Saturday…
