Ruth curse turning 90

This book excerpt is from “Heroes & Ballyhoo: How the Golden Age of the 1920s Transformed American Sports,” courtesy of Potomac Books, Inc.

In 1919, Babe Ruth went from being a star pitcher on the best team in baseball, the Boston Red Sox, to a national sensation. That season, Ruth pitched less and played more in the outfield and first base. Given the chance to hit more often, he demolished all known home run records with 29.

The Babe made the hefty sum of $10,000 in 1919, and his salary and other expenses weighed heavily on Boston owner Harry Frazee, who had bought the team from Joe Lannin in 1916. Frazee began selling players.

By this point, the Babe also had set Ruthian standards for his outlandish appetites for food, drink, and especially sex. His marriage to the former Helen Woodford caused him little pause, either at home or on the road. He roamed every night like a free-range rabbit, chasing women, pro and amateur alike. Ruth’s teammates rarely saw him in the hotel, and one said, “I room with Babe Ruth’s suitcase.”

Yankees owners Colonel Jacob Ruppert and Colonel T. L. Huston wanted to buy Ruth from Boston, but worried about how the hedonistic Ruth would handle New York’s temptations.

If Tiger Woods has an equal in terms of both heroic sports achievements and extramarital affairs, Babe Ruth would be the man. A big difference, however, was that the adoring and protective news media chose not to report on Ruth’s personal life. Times have changed.

The date Jan. 5, 2010 marks the 90th anniversary of the announcement of the New York Yankees’ acquisition of Ruth from the Boston Red Sox.

The following is an excerpt from “Heroes & Ballyhoo: How the Golden Age of the 1920s Transformed American Sports” by Michael K. Bohn:

Ruth tipped his caddie as they walked from the 18th green toward the clubhouse. The Babe had just finished a golf game at Griffith Park, a public course located a few minutes from Hollywood. It was Sunday, January 4, 1920, and Ruth was enjoying his last few weeks on the West Coast before heading back to Boston with Helen. They had stayed after he concluded a series of exhibition games in November and December.

As he walked around the practice green, Ruth saw a short man on the clubhouse porch who looked a lot like the New York Yankees’ manager. The man approached Ruth. “I’m Miller Huggins, Babe. I’d like to talk to you.” They had seen each other on the field every time the Red Sox and Yankees had played for the past two seasons, but Huggins introduced himself anyway.

Ruth wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to Huggins and tried to beg off. While they made small talk about golf, Babe thought to himself, “He’s here to tell me that I’ve been sold or traded to the Yankees.” As Ruth tried to find a reason for walking away, Huggins asked, “How would you like to play for the Yankees?”

Babe explained that he was happy playing in Boston, but if Frazee sent him to New York, he would play just as hard there as he had for the Red Sox. Miller offered Ruth a ride downtown to his hotel to keep the conversation going. Huggins said Colonel Ruppert had yet to make the deal because the owner wanted assurances Ruth would improve his behavior in New York. Ruth wrote later that the little man began preaching to him about measuring up to his new baseball hero status.

Having made his point about behavior, Huggins shifted to money. Ruth asked for $20,000 a year. After a little back and forth, Huggins, with Ruppert’s prior authorization, offered a bonus that when added to his existing contract equaled that sum. Ruth orally agreed to the deal. Huggins left Ruth at his hotel and wired Ruppert the news.

Unbeknownst to Ruth and the public, Frazee had sold Babe’s contract to Ruppert a week earlier for $100,000. The agreement called for $25,000 in cash and three later payments of $25,000 each. Ruppert had also loaned Frazee $300,000 and held the deed to Fenway Park as collateral. They had agreed to delay any public announcement until Huggins traveled to Los Angeles to speak with Ruth. Upon receiving Huggins’ wire, Ruppert called in the reporters on January 5.

Frazee had sold his star player because he desperately needed the money. He had missed a $125,000 payment to Joe Lannin, part of the purchase agreement when Frazee bought the Red Sox. Plus Frazee had to raise cash for a pending Broadway show, “My Lady Friends,” which, when put to music in 1925, became his wildly successful musical “No, No, Nanette.” Ruppert and Huston bought Ruth because they wanted to turn the doormat Yankees into a winning team. When they asked Huggins what he needed to contend for the 1920 pennant, he answered, “Get me Babe Ruth.” Also, both the owners and Huggins decided immediately to cease Ruth’s pitching career. “I will play Ruth in right or left field,” Huggins told the press, “probably in right.

Frazee spun the press to counter public outcry in Boston. “Ruth had become simply impossible and the Boston club could no longer put up with his eccentricities,” he said on January 6. “He is one of the most selfish and inconsiderate men that ever wore a baseball uniform. He refused to obey the orders of the manager.” The Boston players knew Frazee’s claims were baloney. Red Sox outfielder Harry Hooper said later, “All Frazee wanted was the money.”

The Boston Post ran an editorial that countered Frazee’s argument and spoke for many fans: “Ruth is different. He is of a class of ball players that flashes across the firmament once in a great while and who alone bring crowds to the park, whether the team is winning or losing.”

As every Boston baseball fan knows, Ruth’s 1920 sale to the Yankees triggered the “Curse of the Bambino.” Boston suffered major-league baseball’s longest championship drought, going 86 years before winning another World Series after 1918.

In his first year with the Yankees, Ruth hit 54 home runs and 59 the next year in 1921. Ruth led the team to its first World Series championship in 1923, and the Yankees went on to win 25 more before the Red Sox broke the curse in 2004.