[SelzShoes]

The Babe wanted to see more of the minor leaguers. He had embraced the role of manager to its fullest and felt he needed to know what the future of the Athletics looked like. Hastily a game was arranged with one of the local college squads.

With little notice a crowd of a couple dozen showed up at the game. Mostly bored girlfriends from the college, but sprinkled were the die-hards. The men and women who were, as they said in the olden times, baseball mad. Nothing was amiss, until the Bambino found out the crowd was charged admission.

“This is horses—t!” He bellowed loudly in the dugout cage. For what little advertising there was, it all shouted the same: Athletics v Miners. To the Babe, that meant the patrons were expecting real live major leaguers, not this group of kids. “Screw this, give me that line up card,” Ruth scratched and scribbled before handing it to the umpire. It now read, in part:

3. Ruth, G 1B

“You sure this is a good idea,” Buck O’Neill asked his manager. Ruth had been, to the surprise of the A’s management, extremely receptive to the advice of O’Neill. In the dugout and after games, O’Neill was almost attached to Ruth at the hip. Talking game situations and breaking down what needed to be done in a regular season game as opposed to an exhibition. For Ruth, that was proving to be the hardest part of his learning process. “This is not the time to manage to win, you just need to see what everyone can do,” Buck had told him. “You’ll get killed managing like this during the regular season; but you’ll get killed if you don’t manage like this during the spring.”

Ruth nodded back to Buck. “Those people paid good money to watch this; they deserve at least one star on the field.”

O’Neill smiled back, “Just don’t forget your specs out there.”

“Don’t need them to strike out,” Ruth laughed.

After a single and pop out, the umpire announced Ruth. The small crowd roared with the sound of twice their number. Even the bored girlfriends sensed the moment and stood with the rest of the crowd. The Babe tipped his cap, and took his place in the box.

The Junior on the mound felt his knees start to buckle. As he thought he was expected to, the first pitch was an easy lob, very hittable. Ruth let it pass for a strike.

“C’mon kid, pitch to me!”

The next two were as wild as the first one was slow. The A’s rookie on base now stood at third, waiting for a long fly ball. The fourth pitch approached; Ruth swung mightily.

And lined it foul down the first base side.

Ruth dug in, determined to give the small crowd a thrill. The kid pitcher reared back and let loose.

This time, Ruth didn’t even make contact. The crowd did not care. They stood and applauded the great man for the effort on their behalf. Even the collegians clapped. Ruth tipped his cap again, and strolled to the dugout.

Reinvigorated by the sound of the crowd, Ruth took his position at first. O’Neill tried to talk him out of taking the field, but Ruth felt he owed the crowd two at bats. The glove was a little small for his hand, but he managed to make it through the warm ups with little problem. But the lights were not fully on, and the dusky haze was making it harder and harder to see.

The collegians were quickly down to two outs after a fly and strikeout. The third batter rolled one to the shortstop. The infielder gloved the ball threw in one solid motion.

Ruth put out his glove and stretched as much as his body would allow.

He never saw the ball.