BabeHe went for the downs on every swing; missing, he was a pear shaped corkscrew. Sometimes, failing to connect, he almost fell. But seeing him whiff on film is more entertaining than watching most folks get live hits. On his home run trot, George took mincing steps with head down. Stepping on home plate, his right hand shook Gehrig's while the left tipped his cap, hardly glancing at the crowd. They didn't care; they were busy cheering Deity. Ruth drove the fastest cars made the prettiest women laid the biggest bets ate the most food drank the most hooch earned more bucks signed the most autographs and hit homers in banana bunches. Babe went big or he didn't go- just like the roaring 20's. Ruth's train once halted on Queen Street in the middle of downtown Kinston. He handed out bats and balls, shot the bull with fans for 15 minutes and old-timers still raved 40 YEARS AFTER THE EVENT. Another time on a train a comely girl holding a baby in one arm stared at him. He told her to leave or he'd fill her other arm. Ruth hit 11 in '18 29 in '19 54 in '20 59 in '21 60 in '27 54 in '28 46 in '31 22 in '34 and 6 in '35, including 3 in one game. Slowing to a crawl, baseball sent him packing with a scowl; they didn't even slap him on the butt as he went to oblivion. Sure he had money, but he wanted to manage in the bigs. Several teams approached him but he turned them down, waiting to manage the Yankees. He's still waiting. Who can forget that '48 prize-winning photo? A hatless guy leans on bat, waves to crowd at the 25th anniversary of Yankee Stadium, pinstriped uniform hangs like a tent, and prominent on his back the number 3. Cancer is Ruthless. Dan Taylor Leave feedback on our message board. |