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[ Birds chirping, indistinct conversations ] [ "The Star-Spangled Banner" plays on piano ] ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ [ Crowd cheering ] ♪♪♪ [ Cheers and applause ] ♪♪♪ [ Cheers and applause ] ♪♪♪ [ Cheers and applause ] -Baseball is a human enterprise.

Therefore, by definition, it's imperfect, it's flawed.

It doesn't embody perfectly everything that's worthwhile about our country or about our culture, but it comes closer than most things in American life.

And maybe this story, which is probably apocryphal, gets to the heart of it.

An Englishman and an American having an argument about something that has nothing to do with baseball.

It gets to the point where it's irreconcilable to the point of exasperation.

And the American says to the Englishman, "Ah, screw the king."

And the Englishman is taken aback, thinks for a minute, and says, "Well, screw Babe Ruth."

Now, think about that.

The American thinks he can insult the Englishman by casting aspersions upon a person who has his position by virtue of nothing except for birth.

Nothing to do with any personal qualities -- good, bad, or otherwise.

But who does the Englishman think embodies America?

Some scruffy kid who came from the humblest of beginnings, hung out as a 6-year-old behind his father's bar, a big, badly flawed, swashbuckling palooka who strides with great spirit -- not just talent -- but with a spirit of possibility and enjoyment of life across the American stage.

That's an American to the Englishman.

You give me Babe Ruth over any king who's ever sat on the throne, and I'll be happy with that trade.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -Between 1920 and 1930, Adolf Hitler was jailed for trying to overthrow the German government, Mussolini's fascists marched on Rome, Ireland was partitioned, and James Joyce published Ulysses.

In America, women won the right to vote, prohibition was imposed, the gates were closed to most immigrants, and the Jazz Age began.

The stock market boomed, and Herbert Hoover predicted that the United States was nearer the final triumph over poverty than ever before in the history of the land.

Wyatt Earp and Woodrow Wilson and Candy Cummings, the inventor of the curveball, died.

So did John Montgomery Ward, the leader of the players' revolt of 1890, and Cap Anson, who had asked that his headstone be inscribed, "Here lies a man who batted .300."

Roy Campanella and Yogi Berra and Bobby Thomson were born.

During the 1920s, two of baseball's greatest pitchers had one last moment of glory, and the country mourned the loss of one of its most beloved stars.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Summer afternoons were spent watching the Corsicana Oil Citys and the Idaho Falls Spuds, the Pocomoke City Salamanders and the Henryetta Hens, the Pueblo Steelmakers and the Flint Vehicles, the Hollywood Stars and the Kalamazoo Kazoos.

[ Cheers and applause ] Outfielders still left their gloves in the field while they went to bat.

No one could remember a time when an opposing player tripped over one.

The 1920s was an age of American heroes -- Charles Lindbergh, Rudolph Valentino, and Jack Dempsey.

And baseball, too, saw its share of great stars, some known to almost everyone, some whose deeds were noted only by a comparative few.

But one man eclipsed them all.

For almost 20 years, through good times and bad, he and baseball were synonymous.

-"Who is this Baby Ruth?

And what does she do?"

George Bernard Shaw.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -"We'd play a whole game with one ball if it stayed in the park -- lopsided and black and full of tobacco juice and licorice stains.

Pitchers used to have it all their way then -- spit balls and emery balls and whatnot."

[ Applause ] "Until 1921, they had a dead ball.

The only way you could get a home run was if the outfielder tripped and fell down.

The ball wasn't wrapped tight, and lots of times, it'd get mashed on one side, come bouncing out there like a Mexican jumping bean.

They wouldn't throw it out of the game, though.

Only used three or four balls in a whole game.

Now they use 60 or 70."

[ Cheers and applause ] [ Bat cracks ] -During the first 20 years of the 20th century, great pitchers ruled the game -- Christy Mathewson, Cy Young, Grover Cleveland Alexander, Walter Johnson.

They had an advantage unavailable to their successors.

The moment a new ball was thrown onto the field, part of every pitcher's job was to dirty it up.

By turns, they smeared it with mud, licorice, tobacco juice.

It was deliberately scuffed, sandpapered, cut, even spiked.

The result was a misshapen, Earth-colored ball that traveled through the air erratically, tended to soften in the later innings, and as it came over the plate, was very hard to see.

♪♪♪ On August 16, 1920, the inevitable happened.

The Indians were at New York.

On the mound was Carl Mays, a submarine pitcher with a nasty reputation.

Crouching over the plate was the Cleveland shortstop, Ray Chapman.

With the count one ball and one strike, Mays threw high and inside.

The ball hit Chapman in the temple, crushing the side of his skull.

He died the next morning, big-league baseball's first fatality.

-Chapman crowded out over the plate so far that I don't think we can blame Mays for it, but Mays was a particularly disagreeable man, and people were quick to blame him because they wanted to blame him.

You know, when the ball hit Chapman, it bounced out so far that the fielders fielded it.

They thought that it hit his bat.

-Now, as soon as a ball got dirty, the umpire had orders to substitute a spotless white new one, and the ball itself had been made livelier by winding more tightly the yarn within it.

Overnight, the balance shifted from the pitcher's mound to the batter's box.

[ Bat cracks, cheers and applause ] The era of the home-run hitter was about to begin.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -"He was a parade all by himself, a burst of dazzle and jingle, Santa Claus drinking his whiskey straight and groaning with a bellyache.

Babe Ruth made the music that his joyous years danced to in a continuous party.

What Babe Ruth is comes down one generation, handing it to the next as a national heirloom" -- Jimmy Cannon.

[ Cheers and applause ] -"It is impossible to watch him at bat without experiencing an emotion.

I've seen hundreds of ballplayers at the plate, and none of them managed to convey the message of impending doom to the pitcher that Babe Ruth did with the cock of his head, the position of his legs, and the little gentle waving of the bat feathered in his two big paws" -- New York Daily News.

[ Bat cracks ] [ Cheers and applause ] -[ Chuckles ] There was only one like him.

They threw away the mold when they made him.

And he was a big, good-natured guy.

And, of course, he had a world of talent.

Nobody like him.

-You talk to the old-time players and you mention Ruth, and their faces would just sort of light up.

And they'd look off, and they'd start to smile.

A lot of people didn't like him.

They got mad at him, things like that.

But he was entertaining.

He was fun.

He filled a room when he came into it -- loud, positive.

Just there all the time.

Waite Hoyt, thinking about him, Waite Hoyt was an old man, about 70 then, and he said, "God, we love that big son of a bitch."

Just the way it was.

-"I saw it all happen, from beginning to end, but sometimes, I still can't believe what I saw -- This 19-year-old kid, crude, poorly educated, only slightly brushed by the social veneer we call civilization"... ..."gradually transformed into the idol of American youth and the symbol of baseball the world over.

"A man loved by more people and with an intensity of feeling that perhaps has never been equaled before or since."

♪♪♪ "I saw a man transform from a human being into something pretty close to a god."

"If somebody had predicted that back on the Boston Red Sox in 1914, he would have been thrown into a lunatic asylum" -- Harry Hooper.

♪♪♪ -He was born George Herman Ruth Jr. on the Baltimore waterfront on February 6, 1895, the first child of a hot-tempered saloonkeeper and his wife, Kate.

Of the seven siblings born after him, only one, a sister, survived infancy, a sad fact for which he believed his parents blamed him.

"I think my mother hated me," Ruth once confided to a friend.

He learned to walk in the slippery sawdust of his father's saloon and was stealing from local shopkeepers and throwing stones at deliverymen by the age of 5.

Nothing his father did could keep the young boy in line.

-Rough neighborhood.

And his father and mother were busy running the saloon, and he was a rough kid, totally energetic kid.

You couldn't control him.

Always doing things, as he did all his life.

And he was just a heller.

"I was a bad kid," he said.

"I stole," he said, "I drank whiskey."

You know, at the bar, he'd steal it.

Threw rocks at cops.

-When he was 7 years old, he was chewing tobacco and refusing to go to school.

-He just wouldn't go.

That's all.

And my father would whip him unmerciful.

My mother would say, "George, if you don't stop that, you're going to hurt that boy."

And he'd keep on whipping him.

But it didn't do any good in the long run.

We had to put him out at St. Mary's.

We had to, for him to get an education.

-When savage beatings failed to make him change his ways, his parents had him declared incorrigible and sent him off to St. Mary's industrial school for boys, a combined reformatory and orphanage, where he stayed off and on until the age of 19.

His family rarely came to visit him.

"I guess I'm just too big and ugly for anyone to come and see me," he told a fellow inmate.

♪♪♪ He seemed destined to become a shirtmaker, like the other boys, who taunted him with the nickname "niggerlips."

♪♪♪ But Brother Mathias, a strapping Irishman in charge of discipline at St. Mary's, became Ruth's surrogate father, and his ease at hitting a baseball inspired the boy to try his own hand.

He proved a natural, good at every position -- so good so soon, in fact, that, at 8, he was on the 12-year-olds' team, on the varsity at 12.

-I remember when I was a kid watching an old Irish priest hitting baseballs.

And he'd hit them with a shinny stick.

Apparently, Brother Mathias could just belt these balls.

And Ruth said, "I became a hitter when I saw Brother Mathias hitting the ball."

He wanted to hit it the same way.

And so, he played ball in the reform school.

At that time, the early years of the century, baseball just saturated the country.

You'd see lists of games played over the weekend -- 50, 100, 200 games played by teams, neighborhood teams, everyplace.

Everybody played baseball.

So, this industrial school had leagues within the school.

Then they had a team of sort of all-stars who would play teams outside the school.

And Ruth was the star.

-Ruth was the best amateur pitcher in the city of Baltimore, an imposing left-hander with an overpowering fast ball, and he attracted considerable attention from professional scouts.

When he was 19 years old, the owner of the minor league Baltimore Orioles came to see him play and was impressed enough to sign him to a contract.

♪♪♪ He had only rarely been outside St. Mary's, and everything was new and exciting.

"When they let him out," a teammate recalled, "it was like turning a wild animal out of a cage.

He wanted to go everyplace and see everything and do everything."

♪♪♪ -"Babe Ruth joined us in the middle of 1914, a 19-year-old kid.

He was a left-handed pitcher and a good one.

He had never been anywhere, didn't know anything about manners or how to behave among people -- just a big, overgrown green pea."

-Within months, the Orioles sold their big rookie to the Boston Red Sox, one of the best teams in the American league.

-"Lord, he ate too much.

He'd stop along the road when we were traveling and order half a dozen hot dogs and as many bottles of soda pop, stuff them in one after another, give a few belches, and then roar, 'Okay, boys, let's go!'"

♪♪♪ [ Indistinct conversations ] -In 1916, he got his first chance to pitch in the World Series, and he made the most of it.

After giving up a run in the first, he drove in the tying run himself, then held the Brooklyn Dodgers scoreless for 11 more innings, until his teammates could score the winning run.

In the clubhouse, he shouted, "I told you I could handle those national-league bums!"

♪♪♪ In the Red Sox's greatest years, he was their greatest pitcher, setting a record of 29 2/3 scoreless World Series innings that stood for 43 years.

-The interesting thing among the many, many, many endlessly interesting things about Babe Ruth -- certainly the most stunning figure in baseball history -- is that he was nearly as great a pitcher as he was a hitter.

In his coming up as a raw boy from Baltimore, he mowed down his opponents in the American League.

He was the best left-handed pitcher of the 1910s, without question, in the American League.

And it was only because of the prodigal strength that resided in his bat that he moved off the mound.

[ Bat cracks, crowd cheers ] -Ruth liked to pitch, but he loved to hit, and he played outfield on the days he wasn't pitching so that he could do it more often.

He is said to have modeled his swing after the best power hitter in the game, "Shoeless" Joe Jackson.

In 1919, the same year the Black Sox threw the World Series, Ruth slammed 29 home runs, more than any other player had ever hit in a single season, rounding the bases with what one observer called tiny "debutante" ankles.

[ Cheers and applause ] The fans loved it.

-The way he looked, you didn't think he would have been able to have done it.

See, he was big up here and little legs, but he was -- at the point he swung that bat, he was the prettiest thing that you've ever seen.

Uh-huh.

It was poetry in motion when Babe Ruth swung a bat.

-He was such a strange-looking man.

I've often thought of those books that kids have that have three different -- the page is divided into three and you can flip over a page and get different weird animals.

And it's that round head which looks like a bartender's head.

And then the next strip would be the huge, gigantic athlete's shoulders.

And the rest of it came down like a vase.

He was so narrow, it's like he was cut down, got dwindled down to these little tiny ankles and tiny feet.

And he almost minced as he ran around.

[ Bat cracks, crowd cheers ] -"George was 6'2" and weighed 198 pounds, all of it muscle.

He had a slim waist, huge biceps, no self-discipline, and not much education.

Not so very different from a lot of other 19-year-olds, except for two things -- he could eat more than anyone else, and he could hit a baseball farther."

♪♪♪ -Off the field, he was bigger, louder, more excitable than his teammates.

He used other people's toothbrushes, ran the elevator up and down, and got married to Helen Woodford, a 16-year-old coffee shop waitress he met on his very first day in Boston.

[ Cheers and applause ] Everybody called him "Baby," then just "The Babe."

-"Somebody asked me if my club was for sale.

What a ridiculous question.

Of course it is for sale.

So is my hat and my overcoat and my watch.

Anyone who wants them can have them... at a price.

"I will dispose of my holdings in the Red Sox at any time for my price" -- H. Harrison Frazee.

-In 1916, a high-living theatrical producer named Harry Frazee bought the Red Sox for $576,000.

He liked baseball, but Broadway was his first love, and whenever he needed cash for a new show, he would sell off one of his stars.

Babe Ruth's turn came in 1920.

Colonel Jacob Ruppert, owner of the New York Yankees, bought him for $125,000, plus the promise of a $300,000 personal loan with which Frazee could finance still another show.

As security for the loan, Frazee put up Fenway Park itself.

-"Harry Frazee became the owner of the Red Sox, and then before long, he sold off all our best players and ruined the team, sold them all to the Yankees -- Ernie Shore, Duffy Lewis, Dutch Leonard, Carl Mays, Babe Ruth.

I was disgusted.

The Yankee dynasty of the '20s was three-quarters the Red Sox of a few years before.

Frazee was short of cash, and he sold the whole team down the river to keep his dirty nose above the water.

What a way to end a wonderful ball club" -- Harry Hooper.

♪♪♪ -Frazee eventually bought himself a Broadway hit, No, No, Nanette, but Ruth's sale proved the most short-sighted in baseball history.

Ruth hit 54 home runs for New York in 1920, 25 more than he had hit just one year earlier -- more than all but one team managed to hit that year.

And his slugging average, a new statistic that measured the power of a hitter, was .847.

In all the years since, no one else has ever come close to matching it.

-♪ If you can't make a hit in a ball game ♪ ♪ You can't make a hit with me ♪ ♪ But the man who can hit in a ball game ♪ ♪ Can be my affinity ♪ ♪ I'm simply baseball wild, oh, how I yell ♪ ♪ Slam out a home run, kid, I'll yell like ooh!

♪ ♪ If you can't make a hit in a ball game ♪ ♪ You can't make a hit with me ♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪ Can't make a hit in a ball game ♪ ♪ You can't make a hit with me ♪ ♪♪♪ -Babe Ruth revolutionized baseball.

He changed it.

Judge Landis came in and gave baseball its integrity.

Ruth began hitting home runs and gave baseball its excitement.

They changed everything from the ball itself, the construction of the bats, the philosophy of hitting, the philosophy of pitching.

Babe Ruth changed it.

We don't realize it today, but the game of baseball has never been the same since Babe Ruth began to hit home runs.

-Now, at other times in the history, something so disruptive of tradition would have been held in check.

The moguls of the game would have changed the rules.

They'd done it 20 times before.

But in the wake of the Black Sox scandal and the public fascination with Ruth, they simply let it happen.

-Before Ruth, pitchers had been taught to pace themselves, only bearing down when someone was on base.

Now, there was a danger of a run being scored at any moment.

They had to bear down from the first pitch to the last.

Between 1910 and 1920, 8 pitchers won 30 or more games a season.

In the 70-odd years since the advent of Babe Ruth, there have been just three.

-When people get into discussions about who's the greatest ballplayer in history and they say, "Well, there was Ruth, but there was also DiMaggio and Cobb and Mays, Aaron and the other claimants," to me, it seems like an utterly wasted discussion that not -- Let us say that Ruth was not as good an offensive player as Willie Mays, but he was also one of the greatest pitchers ever.

It is as if imagining that Beethoven and Cezanne produced -- were one person producing the same work.

It just can't be compared to anything else.

[ Bat cracks, crowd cheers ] ♪♪♪ -In 1920, the Yankees and Babe Ruth drew more than a million fans, the first time that had ever happened.

And to the fury of John McGraw, manager of the Giants, it was his park, the Polo Grounds, that Ruth and the Yankees filled all season long.

♪♪♪ The Red Sox never recovered.

They had won 5 of the first 15 World Series.

They would not even play in another World Series for more than a quarter of a century.

[ "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" plays on piano ] ♪♪♪ The Sporting News -- "It matters not what branch of mankind the player sprang from with the fan if he can deliver the goods.

The Mick, the Sheeney, the Wop, the Dutch and the Chink, the Cuban, the Indian, the Jap, or the so-called Anglo-Saxon -- his nationality is never a matter of moment if he can pitch or hit or field.

In organized baseball, there has been no distinction raised, except tacit understanding that a player of Ethiopian descent is ineligible, the wisdom of which we will not discuss except to say, by such a rule, some of the greatest players the game has ever known have been denied their opportunity."

♪♪♪ -In 1919, the bloodiest race riots since the Civil War broke out in more than 25 northern cities as Black communities became the focus of white rage.

The worst was in Chicago.

Before it was over, 38 were dead, 537 injured, whole neighborhoods burned and looted.

[ Glass shattering, indistinct shouting ] The violence was a devastating blow to the millions of southern Blacks who had moved north fleeing segregation.

♪♪♪ But out of the riots grew a new assertiveness among African-Americans.

The Black nationalist leader Marcus Garvey urged his people to look to themselves.

"No more fear, no more cringing," he said.

"No more begging and pleading."

♪♪♪ Now, Black culture flourished as never before.

A Harlem renaissance began, and Black businesses thrived in all the big cities.

In riot-torn Chicago, Andrew "Rube" Foster created one of the most successful Black enterprises -- the Negro National League.

-"When the big games shall have become history, there will stalk across the pages of the record a massive figure, and its name will be Andrew Foster, the master of the show who moves the figures on his checkerboard at will, the smooth-toned counselor of infinite wisdom and sober thought, cold in refusals, warm in assents, known to everybody, knows everybody.

That's Rube."

-Foster had been the finest Black pitcher of his time, credited with teaching Christy Mathewson how to throw his celebrated fade-away pitch.

Now, he became Black baseball's first great impresario.

There were to be eight teams in his new league -- the Chicago Giants, Foster's own Chicago American Giants, the Dayton Marcos, Detroit Stars, St. Louis Giants, Cuban Giants, the Kansas City Monarchs, and the Indianapolis ABCs.

It was his object, he said, to provide the north's growing Black population with professional baseball of their own, to do something concrete for the loyalty of the race, and to eventually challenge the major leagues.

"We are the ship," Foster said of his new organization, "all else, the sea."

-He was one of the greatest baseball minds that's ever been.

Where I've got to admire Rube for, he saw he couldn't get in, he didn't quit.

Formed a league of his own, formed a Black league which was a very successful operation -- actually, probably the third biggest business, Black business, in the world.

-Foster was a big, outwardly genial Texan who called friends and strangers alike "darlin'."

But he was tough with the white owners of the big-city stadiums where his teams played when the big-leaguers were safely out of town.

And he was tough on his players, too, insisting on the same kind of aggressive, fast-moving baseball preached by John McGraw, fining any member of his team $5.00 if he were tagged out standing up.

"You're supposed to slide," he said.

No one unable consistently to bunt a ball into a cap could play for Rube Foster, and white managers regularly attended his games to study his tactics.

-"If you play the best clubs in the land -- white clubs, as you say -- it will be a case of Greek meeting Greek.

I fear nobody" -- Rube Foster.

-By 1923, 400,000 Black fans were turning out to see Foster's teams play.

He believed that if Blacks maintained a high level of play, then when whites were ready to open the door, Blacks would be ready to walk through.

But now, white businessmen saw that there were big profits to be made from segregated baseball, and they formed a rival organization, the Eastern Colored League, which included the Baltimore Black Sox, the Harlem Lincoln Giants, and the Hilldales of Philadelphia.

Many of Foster's stars were lured away to the new league with offers of better pay, but Foster held on.

[ Marching band playing ] In 1924, the two leagues staged the first Negro World Series between the Kansas City Monarchs of Foster's league and the Philadelphia Hilldales.

It took 10 games, but the Monarchs won, spearheaded by the superb pitching of Jose Mendez, a dark-skinned Cuban John McGraw said he would happily have paid $50,000 for if only Mendez had been white.

-What more interesting kind of organization could Black people create than leagues and baseball?

It was a sport that defined America, and so Black people adopting this sport and then showing, "We, too, can have leagues, and we, too, can play this game and play it very well," in some way, Black people were showing white Americans, "Yes, we're American.

Yes, we can play this game.

And this game means something to us, too.

And it means something in our history and in our heritage."

-But the strain of trying to keep his fledgling league alive was beginning to take its toll.

Foster grew increasingly paranoid, took to carrying a revolver everywhere he went.

In 1926, worn out and suffering from the delusion that he was about to receive a call to pitch in the white World Series, he finally had to be institutionalized.

He died four years later.

At his funeral, 3,000 mourners stood in an icy rain.

"His coffin was closed," one newspaper reported, "at the usual hour a ball game ends."

♪♪♪ Eventually, the rival Eastern Colored League collapsed, but Foster's Negro league and organized Black baseball managed to stay alive.

♪♪♪ [ Typewriter clacking ] -"I got a letter the other day asking why I didn't write about baseball no more, as I used to write about nothing else, you might say.

Well, friends, I may as well admit that I have kind of lost interest in the old game.

A couple of years ago, a ballplayer named Babe Ruth that was a pitcher by birth was made into an outfielder on account of how he could bust them."

[ Crowd cheering ] "And the masterminds that control baseball says to themselves that if it is home runs that the public wants to see, why, leave us give them home runs" -- Ring Lardner.

[ Cheers and applause ] ♪♪♪ -New heroes like Babe Ruth called for a new kind of reporting, and sports writing reached its gaudy pinnacle in the 1920s, producing its own stars.

Fred Lieb started as a player for his Philadelphia church team, the Princes of Peace, moved to New York, and covered baseball for more than 60 years.

Ford Frick of the New York Journal hammered out complete stories in eight minutes, which gave him the time he needed to act as Babe Ruth's ghostwriter.

John Kieran of The New York Times liked to write up a game before it began, then edit his account to fit the sometimes inconvenient facts.

Damon Runyon of the New York American, who changed the carnation in his lapel three times a day, wrote his accounts of games as they happened and rarely changed a word.

And Shirley Povich, whose first name once got him included in Who's Who in American Women, would write eloquently about baseball for more than half a century for The Washington Post.

-There you were in your trains and your private cars.

From Boston to St. Louis, it was something like 20 hours.

And you had to write your stuff on the train and, at every stop, give it to Western Union.

But you were there with the ballplayers.

You got to know them.

You got to be friendly with those you wanted to be friendly about.

And you learned which ballplayers didn't like baseball writers.

There were a great many.

-Read all about it!

-In those days, there were afternoon newspapers and all sorts of editions -- early editions and late editions.

We'd run to the newsstand on the corner.

And on the front page is a score -- 4 1/2 innings -- "The St. Louis Browns leading the Sox, Sox at bat, bottom of the fifth."

On the front page, the scores were there.

"What's gonna happen?"

Later on, another edition -- "Sox scored three runs bottom of the seventh."

But it's nothing like that today, is it?

-I'll tell you a wonderful thing they did on the major league games.

The front of the town newspaper had a huge baseball diamond on it, and it operated electronically somehow so that you saw the ball sail out, you saw the runners move, and all that, and a crowd of at least 1,000 people would gather in front of that thing to watch a major league game.

They were receiving it by radio and doing the thing on this two-story diamond on the wall, but there was a lot of excitement about it, the same kind of roar of the crowd when something happened even though it had happened five minutes ago, I guess.

♪♪♪ -At World Series time, one reporter said, the huge crowds that gathered to watch the animated scoreboards made Time Square look like New Year's Eve on a summer afternoon.

♪♪♪ [ "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" plays on piano ] -"Given the proper physical equipment, which consists solely in the strength to knock a ball 40 feet farther than the average man can do it, anybody can play big-league ball today.

In other words, science is out the window" -- Ty Cobb.

-Ty Cobb, now managing as well as playing for the Tigers, and with his own skills beginning to wane, hated the brash young newcomer and the impact he was having on the game.

He demeaned Ruth's talent whenever he got the chance and, from the dugout, called him "nigger."

But when the two stars whom sportswriters called "the supermen of baseball" met in what was billed as a grudge series in 1921, Ruth homered in every game, Cobb in only one.

The New York Times reported that "Ruth has stolen all of Cobb's thunder."

Yankee manager Miller Huggins admitted that real students of the game might prefer Ty Cobb's classic brand of baseball, but Babe Ruth appealed to everybody.

"They all flock to him," he said, "because nowadays, the American fan likes the fellow who carries the wallop."

[ Crowd cheers ] In 1921, Ruth outdid himself, hitting an astounding 59 home runs, with 171 runs batted in.

He had already hit more home runs than any other man in history, and he was only 26 years old.

-Babe Ruth erupted into baseball like an Everest in Kansas.

There was no one like him before, no one remotely like him.

In his third year as a full-time player, that his third year not as a pitcher -- just three years -- he held the career record for home runs.

He went on to break his own record 577 times.

And when he retired with 714 home runs, the man in second place in career home runs -- then Lou Gehrig -- had fewer than half the number Ruth had.

There's never been a disparity like that, a talent so disproportionate to what had come before.

-No star had ever so dominated the game.

Yankee attendance soared.

Sportswriters competed to come up with new titles with which to decorate the headlines Ruth made daily.

He was "The Bambino," "The Sultan of Swat," "The Wali of Wallop," "The Wazir of Wham," "The Maharajah of Mash," "The Rajah of Rap," "The Caliph of Clout," "The Behemoth of Bust."

[ Cheers and applause ] ♪♪♪ -"Don't tell me about Ruth.

I've seen what he did to people.

I've seen them -- fans driving miles in open wagons through the prairies of Oklahoma to see him in exhibition games as we headed north in the spring.

I've seen kids, men, women with a dirty piece of paper or hoping for a grunt of recognition when they said, 'Hiya, Babe.'

He never let them down, not once.

He was the greatest crowd-pleaser of them all" -- Waite Hoyt.

[ Children talking indistinctly ] -Children everywhere adored him.

♪♪♪ -When I was a kid away at camp, I got a letter from a friend of mine saying, "We went up to..." which was a candy store, "and Teddy Schulz got #58, George Herman Babe Ruth in a baseball card."

That was big enough news to write me a letter about it.

I remember watching him strike out when I was a child, just swinging around and looking right back up into the stands, right at me, and I'm thinking, "Babe Ruth's looking at me!"

It was that thrilling.

♪♪♪ -I would write from Cuba to them, and those were privileged days.

They would reply back and send you a glossy 8-by-10 picture with their signature.

I think I left behind in Cuba a collection of about 500 pictures signed by the players I liked very much, and one of them was Babe Ruth.

That is one of the things from my country that I miss a lot.

Where is that picture that said "To Manuel, from Babe Ruth"?

I wish I had it.

♪♪♪ -"The big fella wasn't perfect.

Everybody knows that.

But that guy had a heart.

He really did.

A heart as big as a watermelon and made out of pure gold" -- Jimmie Austin.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -Ballplayers called him Jidge or Jidgie, short for George, but he rarely bothered to remember the names of even his closest friends.

-He called everybody "kid."

He didn't know their names.

He called them -- He'd call you -- If he knew you for 10 years, he'd call you "kid."

"Hey, kid."

-Having married Helen Woodford and adopted a daughter, Dorothy, he tucked them away in an old farmhouse in rural Sudbury, Massachusetts, moved into an 11-room suite in the Ansonia Hotel on Broadway, bought himself a 12-cylinder Packard, and set about indulging himself.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -He was up all day and at them all night.

[ Laughs ] Yeah, he was wonderful.

But it didn't affect his playing.

He could have a bad night and go out next day and hit the ball.

It was amazing.

-He lived fast and loose.

He didn't live too long, but he -- he lived while he did.

-In an age of conspicuous consumption, he was the most conspicuous consumer of them all.

Ruth made more money than any other player and spent every penny of it -- "like it was going out of style," a teammate remembered -- and he often gave it away to perfect strangers.

He drank bourbon and ginger ale before breakfast, changed silk shirts six and seven times a day, and became a favored customer in whorehouses all across the country.

The boy who sorted through his mail had orders to throw away everything except checks and letters from broads.

Sportswriters never wrote about Ruth's excesses off the field.

He was simply too popular.

"You can't boo a home run," one reporter noted.

-He was a special case.

Everybody knew what contributions he was making to the game, and what would have been exposed in this later day of baseball writing was simply ignored in those times.

♪♪♪ -The publicity Ruth garnered for the Yankees continued to enrage Giants manager John McGraw.

In 1921, the two teams met in a spectacular World Series at the Polo Grounds -- home to both teams -- and superb pitching dominated throughout.

The Giants' come-from-behind victory was especially sweet for McGraw.

His pitchers managed to hold Ruth in check by throwing him mostly slow stuff.

-Strike!

-"We pitched only nine curves and three fast balls to Ruth during the entire series," McGraw said, "and of those 12, 11 set him on his backside."

-Strike three!

♪♪♪ -"Ye shall not round the corners of thy head, neither shalt thou mar the corners of thy beard" -- Leviticus, chapter 19, verse 27.

-In 1903, an Ohio farmer named Benjamin Purnell awakened from an extraordinary dream.

A white dove had perched on his shoulder, he said, and proclaimed him the sixth son of the House of David, empowered to unite the lost tribes of Israel in advance of judgment day.

Purnell soon gathered a group of disciples who turned over to him all their worldly goods, and he established the House of David Colony at Benton Harbor, Michigan, and laid down strict rules -- no sex, no smoking, no drinking, no shaving.

Before long, there were 500 bearded colonists, and tourists were driving out from Chicago and Kalamazoo to see them.

♪♪♪ To make a profit off his visitors, Purnell built himself an amusement park, and, in 1910, began staging baseball games.

[ "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" playing on piano ] ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ For more than three decades, the House of David was a sensation in small towns all across the country, taking on semipro clubs, industrial leagues, and barnstorming Black teams.

Managed by Purnell's wife, whom sportswriters named Queen Mary, they dazzled crowds with their pepper game routine, trounced local teams, and, from time to time, featured big-leaguers in unconvincing disguises.

♪♪♪ [ Buzzing ] -One and one.

One ball and one strike on Joe Medwick.

Tommy Bridges on the mound again.

-We would listen to Cardinal games at night, and sometimes I would turn on the radio on these hot summer nights, and I'd go out in the front yard and lie down on the grass with my dog.

And I'd have my baseball glove for a pillow, and I would listen to these fabulous sounds from the old Sportsman's Park in St. Louis or sometimes from Shibe Park or Wrigley Field in the afternoons, or the Polo Grounds.

And living in a small town, so isolated then, before television, I had these images of the fabulous great cities of the north, almost as Thomas Wolfe did.

And I thought my entree into the great cities of the North was going to be through my baseball playing.

-The ball was just a little bit low on the outside.

There's the windup.

-On August 5, 1921, radio station KDKA in Pittsburgh broadcast a baseball game between the Pirates and the Phillies, a newspaper reporter at Forbes Field relaying every ball and strike to a Westinghouse foreman in the studio who, in turn, shouted them into the microphone.

-Another hook ball... -For the first time, fans who lived miles from the ball park could instantaneously follow the action.

-It's a base hit!

It's a base hit!

It's out in the center field!

He's rounding first, going to second.

Here's the throw.

He's safe!

He's safe at second base!

-Baseball on the radio is part of the background music of America.

That's basic.

In a small town in a barbershop on a Saturday, there's a ball game in the background.

It goes without saying.

You may be having a discussion of somebody's herd of cattle or some professor talking, where I grew up, about the exam he's going to give and the barber telling vaguely dirty jokes, but in the background of all that, there's a ball game.

That's basic.

Of course.

-I think one of the most appealing things about baseball is that it highlights the individual like no other game does.

Each individual has his specific place on the field.

Each individual has his turn at bat.

In other sports, you can go continually to your best guy.

Babe Ruth still batted only once every nine times, so it's the individual within the context of the group.

And the individual is highlighted, but in the end, his performance means nothing outside the group, outside the community.

♪♪♪ -Ignored as a boy by his own parents, Babe Ruth now commanded the attention of a whole country.

In 1922, it all seemed to go to his head.

When the commissioner of baseball, Kenesaw Mountain Landis, forbade him to barnstorm between seasons, he paid no attention.

"Who does that big monkey think he is?"

Landis asked.

"In this office, he's just another player."

And suspended him for 39 days.

♪♪♪ In May, Ruth threw dirt in an umpire's eyes, stormed into the stands to chase a heckler, and when the home crowd booed him, stood on the dugout roof, shaking his fist and shouting, "You're all yellow!"

Ban Johnson, president of the American League, suspended him this time.

In June, Johnson suspended him again for using vulgar and vicious language to an umpire.

-"Your conduct was reprehensible to a great degree, shocking to every American mother who permits her boy to go to a game.

A man of your stamp bodes no good in the profession.

It seems the period has arrived when you should allow some intelligence to creep into a mind that has plainly been warped" -- Ban Johnson.

-Ruth sat out nearly a third of the 1922 season and hit only 25 home runs.

Attendance fell off.

The Yankees managed to make it to the World Series but lost to the Giants again.

Ruth hit a dismal .118.

John McGraw was gleeful.

Once again, he had "the big monkey's number," he said.

"Just pitch him low curves and slow stuff, and he falls all over himself."

Now sportswriters turned on Ruth.

-"This has been a tough epoch for kings, but not even those harassed crowned heads of Europe ever ran into greater grief than the once-reigning monarch of the mace fell heir to this week.

He hit the ball out of the infield just three times, and during the remainder of the engagement, he spent most of his afternoons tapping dinky blows to the pitcher or first.

In his last 12 times at bat, the once-mighty Bambino from Blooieland failed to hit the ball hard enough to dent the cuticle of a custard pie" -- Grantland Rice.

-That winter, at a baseball writers' dinner, state Senator Jimmy Walker, whose own private life would not have borne close scrutiny, lectured Ruth on the wages of dissipation.

The Babe was letting down "the little dirty-faced kids," Walker said.

Ruth began to cry.

He would do better, he promised, get back in shape, concentrate on the game again.

"I've had my last drink until next October," he told reporters.

"I'm going to my farm.

"I'm going to work my head off and maybe part of my stomach, and then you watch me break that home run record."

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ In 1922, an event occurred far from the field which had almost as momentous an impact on the game as the coming of Babe Ruth.

The seven-year-old suit by the owners of the now-defunct Federal League, charging that the big leagues were a monopoly and in violation of the antitrust laws, had finally reached the Supreme Court.

The court unanimously upheld the big leagues.

"Baseball was indeed a business," wrote Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, "but putting on baseball games for profit was not trade or commerce in the commonly accepted use of those words."

In essence, baseball could govern itself.

The players would have no recourse in federal court.

The government would not intervene in their disputes with management.

Although antitrust laws applied to other sports, they somehow did not apply to the national pastime.

The court's decision still stands to this day.

[ Cheers and applause ] -And now we're over with a bunch of the boys that are limbering up before the game starts.

-There he was, incomparable -- that big pirouette swing and the snap of the wrist and the gusto with which he even struck out sometimes.

-Ohh!

-The balls that he hit spoke for themselves.

Let me recall to you one time when I asked Walter Johnson who hit the ball the farthest.

Johnson says, "Well, I rightly can't say who hit the ball the farthest, but those balls that Ruth hit got smaller quicker [laughing] than anybody else's."

I thought that settled the issue.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ In 1923, a brand-new stadium was being built on the 10-acre site of an old lumberyard in the Bronx -- the largest baseball park in the country -- to hold all the fans who wanted to see Babe Ruth.

[ Marching band playing "The Star-Spangled Banner" ] ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ April 18, 1923, was opening day.

The Yankees were playing the Boston Red Sox.

Governor Al Smith threw out the first ball as more than 74,000 fans cheered.

[ Cheers and applause ] -"It is reported on good authority that when The Babe first walked out to his position and looked about him, he was silent for almost a minute while he tried to find adequate words to express his emotions.

Finally, he emerged from his creative coma and remarked, 'Some ball yard'" -- Heywood Broun.

♪♪♪ -"Only one more thing was in demand, and Babe Ruth supplied that.

The big slugger is a keen student of the dramatic in addition to being the greatest home run hitter.

He was playing a new role yesterday, not the accustomed one of a renowned slugger, but that of a penitent trying to come back after a poor season and a poorer World Series.

Before the game, he said that he would give a year of his life if he could hit a home run in his first game in the new stadium.

The Babe was on trial, and he knew it better than anyone else."

♪♪♪ "The ball came in slowly, but it went out quite rapidly, and as Ruth circled the bases, he received probably the greatest ovation of his career.

The biggest crowd rose to its feet and let loose the biggest shout in baseball history."

"Ruth, jogging over the home plate, grinned broadly, lifted his cap, and waved it to the multitude" -- New York Times.

[ Cheers and applause ] ♪♪♪ -Babe Ruth was back.

The Yankees beat the Red Sox that day 4-1.

Sportswriters began calling Yankee Stadium "the house that Ruth built."

[ Cheers and applause ] Ruth hit 40 more homers that year and 46 the next.

-"He has not only slugged his way to fame, but he has got everyone else doing it.

The home run fever is in the air.

It is infectious" -- Baseball magazine.

-It was a decade of hitters -- Tris Speaker... [ Bat cracks ] ...George Sisler... [ Bat cracks ] ...Tony Lazzeri... [ Bat cracks ] ...Harry Heilmann... [ Bat cracks ] ...Goose Goslin... [ Bat cracks ] ...Paul Waner... [ Bat cracks ] ...and Hack Wilson.

From 1922 to 1925, there was at least one .400 hitter every season.

The inside game of bunts, steals, and hit-and-run plays, so beloved by Ty Cobb, was elbowed aside by the power game of home runs, home runs, and more home runs.

♪♪♪ One of the greatest hitters of them all was Rogers Hornsby, "The Rajah," second baseman for the St. Louis Cardinals.

-"Mr. Rogers Hornsby is the greatest right-handed hitter in baseball.

If consistency is a jewel, then Mr. Hornsby is a whole rope of pearls.

"He has led the National League hitters for so many years that the name of the man he succeeded is lost to the memory of the oldest inhabitant" -- Joe Williams, New York World-Telegram.

-Between 1921 and 1925, he averaged better than .400.

His mark of .424, set in 1924, remains the highest in the 20th century.

And his lifetime average of .358 is second only to Ty Cobb.

♪♪♪ But Hornsby was too single-minded, too colorless to seize the public imagination the way Ruth did.

He would not even go to the movies for fear of damaging his eyes.

When his mother died during the World Series, he postponed her funeral until the series was over, then led his team to victory.

"Baseball," he once said, "is the only thing I know."

From the mound, Hornsby was a fearsome sight.

"You might not have liked what was on his mind," one pitcher remembered, "but you always knew damned well what it was."

For his part, he never disliked pitchers, Hornsby said.

He just felt sorry for them.

-Rogers Hornsby was at bat, and Bill Klem, magisterial umpire, was behind the plate.

And there was a rookie pitcher on the mound, and the rookie was quite reasonably petrified.

And he threw three pitches that just missed the plate.

And Klem said, "Ball one.

Ball two.

Ball three."

The rookie got flustered and shouted, he said, "Umpire, those were strikes!"

Klem took his mask off, looked out at the young man, and said, "Young man, when you throw a strike, Mr. Hornsby will let you know."

♪♪♪ [ Camera shutter clicks ] [ Camera shutter clicks ] [ Camera shutter clicks ] On April 15, 1924, an undemonstrative President Calvin Coolidge threw out the first ball in Griffith Stadium to the Senators' aging pitcher Walter Johnson.

Neither Johnson nor Washington's fans knew what glories lay ahead at the end of the season.

-The phrase on the Senators for years was, "Washington -- first in war, first in peace, and last in the American League."

This was at a time when Clark Griffith owned the Senators.

They didn't have much money and less talent.

And he said one day, "The fans like home runs, and we have assembled a pitching staff to please our fans."

[ Bat cracks ] -The Yankees were on their way to a fourth consecutive pennant in 1924 when they were stopped cold by one man -- Walter Johnson.

-His name is in the record book more times than any other pitcher, in more different categories than any other pitcher.

And he was a lovable person in the sense the whole nation knew that Walter Johnson was doomed to play with the Washington Senators, rooted so hard for him to get into a World Series, which he finally did.

-He was 36 years old and had been pitching since 1907.

It may have been a new game, a hitter's game, but he was still capable of leading the league in strikeouts, shutouts, and earned run average.

Now he propelled his team to the pennant with 13 consecutive wins, edging out the Yankees by two games.

[ Marching band plays "The Star-Spangled Banner" ] They would now face the Giants in the World Series.

♪♪♪ [ Cheers and applause ] Johnson proved a disappointment in the series, losing both games he started.

But Washington managed to hold on.

The series went to seven games, and in the top of the ninth inning, with the score tied 3-3 and the Senators starter in trouble, Walter Johnson was called in on just one day's rest to see what he could do.

[ Cheers and applause ] He retired the side, but the Senators were unable to get a run in the bottom of the ninth.

-You're out!

-Now, Johnson's fast ball kept the Giants from scoring in the 10th, the 11th, the 12th.

Finally, in the bottom of the 12th, the Senators catcher, Muddy Ruel, reached second.

A weary Walter Johnson made it to first on an error and watched as his teammate Earl McNeely hit a ball that bounced off a pebble and bounded over the Giant third baseman's head.

Muddy Ruel lumbered home for the winning run.

[ Cheers and applause ] As he walked off the field, there were tears in Walter Johnson's eyes.

-Muddy Ruel was renowned maybe as the slowest man in baseball, and Clark Griffith, the owner, said, "I never thought he'd ever get to home plate."

And when he did, there was such an explosion, and the fans piled onto the field.

And as I remember it, they didn't leave that field until after dark.

30,000 people celebrated on the spot, refusing to vacate the premises.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -The next day, Walter Johnson led the victory parade up Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House.

♪♪♪ "A close observer," wrote Grantland Rice, "reports that the vocal cords of Mr. Coolidge twitched."

Washington had never won a championship before and would never win another.

-Baseball is like joining an enormous family with ancestors and forebearers and famous stories and histories.

And it's a privilege.

It means a lot.

And the people who tell me they hate baseball or are out of baseball, they sound bitter about it.

But I think that they sense what they're missing.

I think that they feel that there's something they're not in on, which is a terrible loss, and I'm sorry for them.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -"It is doubtful that Ruth again will be the superstar he was from 1919 through 1924.

Next year, Ruth will be 32, and at 32, The Babe will be older than Eddie Collins, Walter Johnson, and Ty Cobb at that age.

Babe has lived a much more strenuous life" -- Fred Lieb.

-Babe Ruth's promises to reform did not last beyond the end of the 1924 season, and by the time he got to spring training in 1925, he was a wreck -- 30 pounds overweight, feverish, often drunk, torn between his wife Helen, who had grown desperate over his womanizing, and a pretty artist's model named Claire Hodgson.

On April 7th, he collapsed in North Carolina with an intestinal illness so mysterious that some sportswriters speculated privately that Ruth might be suffering from venereal disease.

London newspapers reported that he had died.

His illness was so severe that major abdominal surgery was followed by seven weeks of absolute hospital rest.

Newspapers reported that he had merely eaten too many hot dogs and drunk too many sodas.

"It was," wrote one, "the bellyache heard 'round the world."

♪♪♪ On opening day 1925, the New York Yankees started the new season without Babe Ruth for the first time in five years and lost to Walter Johnson's Senators, 5-2.

[ Crowd groans ] June 1, 1925, was Babe Ruth's first day back with the Yankees.

That same afternoon, first baseman Wally Pipp was hit in the head during batting practice, and a broad-shouldered 22-year-old rookie was asked to take his place.

The young player's name was Lou Gehrig, and he was already on his way to the longest string of consecutive games played in baseball history.

♪♪♪ He was born Ludwig Heinrich Gehrig in Manhattan, the shy, soft-spoken, cherished son of German immigrants.

He was so good at hitting a baseball that major-league scouts tried to recruit him while he was still starring for his high-school team, and the Yankees offered him so much money in his sophomore year at Columbia University that he finally abandoned his parents' dream of a college education to play baseball.

But he was reluctant always to stay away for too long from the mother who was the center of his life.

When he traveled with the Yankees, he made sure she came along.

-"He was the most valuable player the Yankees ever had because he was the prime source of their greatest asset -- an implicit confidence in themselves" -- New York World-Telegram.

[ Bat cracks ] -Ohh!

-Despite the arrival of the hard-hitting rookie, the Yankees fell to seventh place, and Ruth seemed unable to help much.

He continued to drink and carouse and to disobey the instructions of his diminutive manager, Miller Huggins.

Finally, when he stayed out all night two nights running, Huggins fined him $5,000 and suspended him.

Ruth would not be able to come back until he admitted the error of his ways and personally apologized.

Ruth refused, saying he would never play for the Yankees again.

Then came word that his wife, Helen, had suffered a nervous breakdown, anguished over his infidelity.

When Ruth went to see her, cameramen followed him right into her hospital room.

They were Catholic, so there was no possibility of divorce, but they agreed to separate.

[ "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" plays on piano ] Ruth's suspension lasted only nine days.

He could not bear to be away from baseball any longer.

And when Huggins demanded that he not only apologize but do so in front of the whole team, he meekly agreed.

Ruth had his worst season in 10 years.

It seemed that his best years were over.

[ Bat cracks ] ♪♪♪ -"Why should God wish to take a thoroughbred like Matty so soon and leave some others down here that could well be spared?"

-- Kenesaw Mountain Landis.

-Christy Mathewson, the Christian gentleman of baseball, had never recovered from the aftereffects of the poison gas he had inhaled in France during World War I.

He had tried to return to the game he loved after the war, first collecting evidence that helped uncover the Black Sox scandal, then as president of the Boston Braves.

But he could not get enough air, coughed up blood.

"Now, Jane," he told his wife at the end, "I suppose you will have to go out and have a good cry.

Don't make it a long one.

This can't be helped."

Christy Mathewson died on October 7, 1925.

♪♪♪ The next day, at the second game of the World Series between the Pittsburgh Pirates and the Washington Senators, the flags flew at half-staff, and all the players wore mourning arm bands.

John McGraw, his old manager, tried in vain to blink back tears.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ [ Cheers and applause, bell dings ] -I was watching the electronic scoreboard covering the 1925 World Series between the Pirates and the Senators, and the Senator manager, Bucky Harris, sends up a rookie to bat -- Buddy Myer.

And the kid next to me says, "Bet you a nickel he gets a hit."

A rookie at bat first time, even-money bet.

I take the bet.

Buddy Myer gets a hit.

Only later do I discover the kid lived two buildings away from the scoreboard, heard it on the radio.

In those days, few radios.

He had it five minutes before I did, the little swindler.

That's it.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -Everybody in the United States was born with baseball.

Everybody knew baseball, and every man now thinks that he could manage a baseball team.

I was fortunate enough that my father played baseball.

And I would go around to little places where they played, and I was fortunate enough to have seen -- Living in Sarasota, I saw John McGraw, I saw Connie Mack, I saw Babe Ruth.

I saw the great ballplayers of that era.

♪♪♪ -By the late 1920s, a growing number of Negro League teams, like their white counterparts, were traveling throughout the country, staging exhibition games and inspiring a whole new generation of players.

[ Cheers and applause ] -They would play Thursdays, which was maid's day off.

See, Thursdays and Sundays they would play baseball, so I got a chance to see Rube.

I got a chance to see Oscar Charleston, the great baseball players of that era.

I hadn't thought in terms of black and white, but all of the baseball players I saw -- the pro baseball players -- they were white.

Now I'm going to see the professionals that were Black.

This meant so much to me.

I said, "I'm going to be a baseball player."

-In 1938, Buck O'Neil would join one of the best teams in the Negro leagues, the Kansas City Monarchs.

♪♪♪ "Starting the cardinal farm system was no sudden stroke of genius.

It was a case of necessity being the mother of invention.

We lived a precarious existence.

Other clubs would outbid us.

They had the money and the superior scouting system.

We had to take the leavings or nothing at all" -- Branch Rickey.

-Faced with a weak team, St. Louis Cardinals General Manager Branch Rickey resolved that rather than try to pay for stars, he would grow his own.

The result was the farm system -- minor-league teams linked together and run purely to produce stars for the big-time.

Branch Rickey could spot talent better than anyone in the game.

-You go to a ball game, and you see the pitcher.

You see what the hitter does, and you notice the catcher.

You're interested in only one of those boys, and that's the only one you'll see.

But Rickey would see all three of them.

He'd see how the pitcher finished up, what the hitter did, and the position that the catcher caught the ball.

-The farm system was a spectacular success.

Soon Rickey had 800 players under contract on 32 teams, and every other major-league club had followed his lead.

[ Bat cracks ] Between 1926 and 1942, the Cardinals would win six pennants and four world championships and always remain near the top of the standings.

"There is quality," Branch Rickey said, "in quantity."

The farm system made Rickey a rich man.

He personally got 10 cents on the dollar for every player he sold.

In negotiating salaries, one player remembered, "Mr. Rickey came to kill you.

If he could get a player to sign for 5 cents less than the player wanted, he felt he had accomplished something."

"Nobody," a friend said, knew how to put a dollar sign on the muscle better than branch Rickey."

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -Baseball is repetitive.

Its rhythms are comforting because they're so familiar, yet there is always the prospect of something startling, something glorious.

And you watch -- hoping for, waiting for -- and, in the end, knowing that it will come.

♪♪♪ -The last of the great pitchers of an earlier era, Grover Cleveland Alexander, was only a shadow of what he once had been -- nearly 40 and almost deaf, subject to seizures, tortured by memories of the Western front, sodden with drink.

In the middle of the 1926 season, Joe McCarthy, the Chicago Cubs unsentimental new manager, let Alexander go.

The Cubs had finished last in 1925, McCarthy explained, "And if they finish last again, I'd rather it was without him."

But Branch Rickey had seen something in the old man.

He was sure Alexander had it in him to be a hero one more time and hired him for St. Louis.

The Cardinals won the National League pennant and faced the Yankees in the series.

Few gave the Cardinals much of a chance.

-Programs!

-But Alexander pulled himself together to win the second and then the sixth game.

He celebrated that night and, during the seventh game, sat quietly in the bullpen at Yankee Stadium nursing his hangover.

In the seventh inning, the Cardinals were leading 3-2, and two Yankees were out, but St. Louis was in trouble.

New York had loaded the bases.

Next up was Tony Lazzeri, the hard-hitting rookie of Italian descent best known for batting in runs.

Rogers Hornsby, now the Cardinal manager, motioned to the bullpen.

He wanted Alexander -- hangover or no hangover.

Alexander took his time walking out to the mound.

-I can see him yet, walking in from the left-field bullpen through the gray mist.

The Yankee fans recognized him right off, of course, but you didn't hear a sound from anywhere in that stadium.

They just sat there and watched him walk in, and he took his time.

He just came straggling along, a lean old Nebraskan wearing a Cardinal sweater, his face wrinkled, that cap sitting on top of his head and tilted to one side.

That's the way he liked to wear it.

Les Bell.

♪♪♪ [ Cheering and applause ] -Hornsby met him on the mound.

When Alexander told him he planned to pitch Lazzeri fast and inside, Hornsby was appalled.

"You can't do that," he said.

Lazzeri was sure to hit it out of the park.

Alexander was unconcerned.

"If he swings at it, he'll most likely hit it foul.

Then I'm going to come outside with my breaking pitch."

Hornsby backed off.

"Who am I," he said, "to tell you how to pitch?"

Lazzeri was waiting.

Alexander's first offering was a low curve, a perfect pitch.

Strike one.

Alexander threw another -- the pitch Hornsby feared -- hard and inside.

Lazzeri hit a soaring line drive that went foul, just as Alexander had predicted.

Strike two.

Now he threw another curve across the outside corner of the plate.

Lazzeri swung... And missed.

The Yankees were retired.

[ Cheering and applause ] Alexander dominated the next two innings.

The last up in the ninth was Babe Ruth, who walked and then was thrown out when he inexplicably tried to steal second.

The series was over.

Yankee fans were stunned.

St. Louis went wild.

[ Jazz music playing ] ♪♪♪ Alexander remained as taciturn as ever.

"It felt good to win," he said, "but the real excitement came when Judge Landis mailed out the winners' checks."

♪♪♪ -My father -- because baseball is dynastic -- always said that his saddest moment in life was that famous 1926 last game of the World Series when a drunk and much-superannuated Grover Cleveland Alexander was brought in with the bases loaded, and Tony Lazzeri almost hit a home run that went foul by a couple of feet and then struck out, thereby winning, ultimately, two innings later, the game for the Cardinals.

My father was listening to that by radio, said he was sure he would never be happy again afterwards.

But two days later, he was fine, and in 1927, Ruth hit 60 home runs, and the Yanks won the World Series in four over the Pirates.

So, again, there's recompense, and there's eventual pleasure, even after tragedy.

-And now, boys, we will take up our arithmetic lesson.

No!

-6 times 2 is 12.

6 times 3 is 18.

6 times 4 is 24.

6 times 5 is 30.

6 times 6 is 36.

6 times 7 is 42.

6 times 8 is 48.

-Stop!

What do you mean keeping these boys here when there's baseball to be played?!

-Why, uh... why, arithmetic!

-Arithmetic?!

4 times 4 is 16.

-Yes!

-3 strikes, you're out!

That's our arithmetic.

Come on, boys, let's go, what do you say?

[ Cheering, shouting ] -...Babe hit two home runs on Thursday.

Yanks hoping to wrap up this sensational season with just one more victory.

Gehrig the on-deck hitter... -James Thurber, I guess, he was the one who said that 95% of American males put themselves to sleep at night striking out the batting order of the Yankees -- much easier to do now then it was then.

-Well, when we got to the ball park, we knew we were going to win.

That's all there was to it.

We weren't cocky.

I wouldn't call it confidence, either.

We just knew -- like when you go to sleep, you know the sun is going to come up in the morning."

George Pipgras.

♪♪♪ -The 1927 Yankees may have been the greatest team in baseball history.

Babe Ruth, dismissed as a has-been two years before, was back again with a vengeance, and there was no pennant race in the American League that year.

The Yankees hammered out 110 victories.

Connie Mack's Philadelphia Athletics finished a distant second, 19 games out.

The Yankees were in first place from opening day to the end of the season, a feat that would be unequaled for 57 years.

They did everything well.

Yankee pitching was masterful -- Waite Hoyt, Herb Pennock, Urban Shocker, Dutch Ruether, Wilcy Moore, and George Pipgras.

But at bat, they had no equal.

They were called "murderers row."

Babe Ruth, Earle Combs, Bob Meusel, Tony Lazzeri, and Lou Gehrig.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ [ Cheering and applause ] He was now one of the best hitters in the game, but he was always in the shadow of his close friend and rival.

He batted after Ruth.

His home runs didn't soar the same way.

He didn't swagger.

And when the Yankee front office suggested he make his own headlines by diving for catches he knew he couldn't make, or pretending easy catches had been hard, he gently refused.

"I'm not a headline guy," he said.

-One day, he came to me, he said, "Jimmy, let's go and raise Cain.

I said, "What do you mean," he said, "We're going to have a beer for dinner tonight."

That was the extent of his activities.

-The combination of Ruth and Gehrig was not only wonderful in baseball terms, but it was aesthetically pleasing because they were so different in character.

Lou Gehrig was a good man, a family man, a steady fellow -- the exact opposite of Babe Ruth, who was -- who was out of control all the time.

They both batted left-handed, but Ruth's swing was nothing like Gehrig's swing.

But think of pitchers in those days who had to face Babe Ruth then Lou Gehrig.

♪♪♪ -For most of the 1927 season, Lou Gehrig matched Babe Ruth home run for home run, and it was, in part, to distance himself from his rival that the Babe resolved to do something that would have been unimaginable a few years earlier -- break his own record and hit 60 home runs in a single season.

The public eagerly kept score as the weeks passed and the runs mounted up.

Ruth did, too, notching his bat every time he hit a home run -- until it split after the 21st.

On July 8, he hit his 27th -- an inside-the-park home run.

By September, Ruth was carrying his new bat around the bases to thwart souvenir seekers.

When he hit number 56, and an over-eager boy ran out to grab it, he dragged the bat and the boy behind him as he crossed home plate.

On September 30, the next-to-last day of the season, and needing just one more home run, he faced Tom Zachary of the Washington Senators.

-The first Zachary offering was a fast one which sailed over for a called strike.

The next was high.

The Babe took a vicious swing at the third pitched ball, and the bat connected with a crash that was audible in all parts of the stands.

[ Cheering and applause ] While the crowd cheered and the Yankee players roared their greeting, the babe made his triumphant, almost regal tour of the pads.

And when he embedded his spikes in the rubber disk to officially homer 60, hats were tossed in the air, papers were tossed liberally, and the spirit of celebration permeated the place.

[ Cheering and applause ] -"60!

Count 'em, 60!"

Ruth shouted in the locker room.

"Let's see some other son of a bitch match that!"

It was generally agreed that no son of a bitch ever would.

♪♪♪ The Yankees took the series from the Pirates in four straight games in 1927, and then did the same to the Cardinals the following year.

The Yankees and Babe Ruth seemed invincible.

Between 1926 and 1931, Babe Ruth put on one of the finest displays of hitting the game has ever seen.

It was the Golden Age of sports heroes -- Red Grange in football, Bill Tilden in tennis, Bobby Jones in golf -- but no one compared to Ruth, and the public couldn't get enough of him.

Neither could the dozens of companies that now tried to cash in on his image.

♪♪♪ -♪ Keep your sunny side up ♪ ♪ Up ♪ ♪ Hide the side that gets blue ♪ ♪ If you have nine sons in a row ♪ ♪ Baseball teams make money, you know ♪ ♪ Keep your funny side up ♪ ♪ Up ♪ ♪ Let your hitting come through ♪ ♪ Do ♪ ♪ Keep your sunny side up ♪ -Say, what's the idea of this boxing?

-Why, it keeps you in good shape.

[ Indistinct ] -Oh, is that so, huh?

Say, Paul.

Who's the -- who's the heavyweight champion?

-Max Schmeling.

-Say, what's the idea?

♪♪♪ [ Laughter ] ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Think we'll call that a day.

I'll cover you up and I'll make you sweat.

-I gotta take a snooze on top of it.

Hey, Artie, you want to do me a favor?

-I'd love to.

-Well, go away from here and let me sleep.

-All right.

-That goes for you camera fellas, too.

-♪ Keep your winning side up ♪ ♪ Up ♪ ♪ Help the team to come through ♪ ♪ Do ♪ ♪ Then your name builds you ♪ ♪ For the sporting news ♪ ♪ Keep your sunny side ♪ ♪ Give the ball a ride ♪ ♪ Keep your sunny side up ♪ -Babe, will you hit some for us?

-Well, who's gonna do the pitching?

-I'm the pitcher.

-All right, you do the pitching and I'll do the hitting.

-You guys get out in the outfield.

-Okay.

-Come on, fellas.

-I got it!

I got it!

I got it!

I got it!

I got it!

I got-- [ Boys laughing ] -6 times 6 is 36.

6 times 7 is 42 -- -Quiet!

♪♪♪ -So long.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -It will be a long time before the game develops a second Cobb, and then it will be just that -- a second Cobb.

You've seen the first and only.

Joe Williams, New York World-Telegram.

-By the end of the 1928 season, Ty Cobb had had enough.

At 42, his legs had finally given out, though his daring was undimmed.

In one of his last games, he managed, for the 35th time, to perform base running's most demanding trick -- stealing home.

Ty Cobb concluded early on that "baseball is not unlike a war," and nothing in his long career ever changed his mind.

His records were his trophies of that war -- 3,035 games, 4,191 hits, 2,245 runs scored, 891 bases stolen, 1,937 runs batted in, and only 357 strike-outs in 11,434 times at bat, a lifetime batting average of .367 -- the highest in history.

[ Cheering and applause fades ] ♪♪♪ On the night of January 11, 1929, the home of a Watertown, Massachusetts, dentist named Edward Kinder caught fire.

Dr. Kinder was away at the time, but the woman everyone called Mrs. Kinder was not and died in the blaze.

It took the police several days to discover that the dead woman had really been Helen Ruth, the Babe's estranged wife.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ Three months later, Ruth married his longtime mistress Claire Hodgson.

She cared for his daughter, put him on an allowance, and imposed a stern regimen -- no hard liquor during the season, no hot dogs and soda before a game, in bed by 10:00pm -- and to ensure that he kept to it, she traveled with him aboard the Yankee train.

Claire Ruth acted very like the mother the Babe never really had, and he thrived on it.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ In 1929, Colonel Ruppert decreed that numbers be added to the Yankees uniforms in the order in which they came to bat, so the fans could pick out Ruth and their other heroes more easily.

That same year, Miller Huggins, who had managed New York since 1918, died suddenly, and the invincible Yankees ended the season 18 games behind Connie Mack's Athletics.

On October 8th, Mack came to Chicago to take on the Cubs in the World Series.

-The first game of the series was played before President Herbert Hoover.

There was one big question as Mack and Chicago manager Joe McCarthy shook hands -- who would be Connie's starting pitcher?

He chose Howard Ehmke, a has-been.

The fans were amazed, but Ehmke struck out 13 Chicago hitters -- a new World Series record.

[ Cheering and applause ] ♪♪♪ -If ever there were a source for rueful memories, at least for me, it's baseball.

A World Series game I could have seen and missed.

It was a memorable one.

1929 -- my friend Jimmy O'Hara says, "Let's go, it's the Cubs playing against the Athletics."

The Athletics have Lefty Grove.

That fireball pitcher was going to face Hornsby and Cuyler and Stephenson and Charlie Grimm, Gabby Hartnett -- the sluggers.

Speed ball against the sluggers.

Connie Mack puts in a guy he didn't use all season -- an old guy, Howard Ehmke, with a ball that's slower than slow.

Howard Ehmke strikes out 13 Cubs.

They broke their backs swinging at a slow ball.

I missed that game; Jimmy saw it.

A rueful memory of loss.

-On October 14, 1929, Connie Mack's Athletics won the world championship four games to one.

Two weeks later, the stock market crashed.

The Great Depression that would hit the country would hit baseball, too, and for the next 10 years, the nation and the national pastime would struggle to survive.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -♪ Happy Mary Ann McCann ♪ ♪ The crazy baseball fan ♪ ♪ Rooted hard for Dan Moran ♪ ♪ Dan Moran, her baseball man ♪ ♪ When he came to bat one day ♪ ♪ And saw her smile so gay ♪ ♪ His Irish heart was thumping when ♪ ♪ He heard her yell, "hurray!"

♪ ♪ She loudly cried ♪ ♪ "Oh, Danny mine" ♪ ♪ "A hit and Mary Ann is thine" ♪ ♪ The score was tied, the bases full ♪ ♪ The crowd began to cheer ♪ ♪ Poor Mary almost fainted ♪ ♪ When she heard these words so clear ♪ ♪ "Strike one" ♪ ♪ "Strike two" ♪ ♪ "Strike three, the batter's out" ♪ ♪ Then Dan heard Mary Ann ♪ ♪ In frenzy shout ♪ -♪ If you can't make a hit in a ball game ♪ ♪ You can't make a hit with me ♪ ♪ But the man who can hit ♪ ♪ In a ball game ♪ ♪ Can be my affinity ♪ ♪ I'm simply baseball wild ♪ ♪ Oh, how I yell ♪ ♪ Slam out a home run, kid ♪ ♪ I'll yell like -- ooh!

♪ ♪ If you can't make a hit ♪ ♪ In a ball game ♪ ♪ You can't make a hit with me ♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ -♪ Everybody's on their feet and making lots of noise ♪ ♪ While every eye was staring at that bat of Joe McCoy's ♪ ♪ A crash, fair ball ♪ ♪ A run, the game is won ♪ ♪ Then Mary turned to Dan ♪ ♪ And loudly sung ♪ -♪ If you can't make a hit ♪ ♪ In a ball game ♪ ♪ You can't make a hit with me ♪ ♪ But the man who can hit ♪ ♪ In a ball game ♪ ♪ Can be my affinity ♪ ♪ I'm simply baseball wild ♪ ♪ Oh, how I yell ♪ ♪ Slam out a home run, kid ♪ ♪ I'll yell like -- ooh!

♪ ♪ If you can't make a hit ♪ ♪ In a ball game ♪ ♪ You can't make a hit with me ♪ ♪♪♪