The New York Times/1927/10/2/Sports of the Times

by John Kieran

Sports of the Times

By JOHN KIERAN.

Copyright, 1927, by The New York Times Company.

Some four months ago there was printed in this column a versified query: "Was there ever a guy like Ruth?" From time to time Yankee rooters suggested the reprinting of the query, and now that Babe Ruth has answered it a recital of the old question may be in order. Here it is:

A Query.

You may sing your song of the gold old days till the phantom cows come home;You may dig up glorious deeds of yore from many a dusty tome;You may rise to tell of Rube Waddell and the way he buzzed them through,And top it all with the great fast ball that Rusie's rooters knew.You may rant of Brouthers, Keefe and Ward and half a dozen more;You may quote by rote from the record book in a way that I deplore;You may rave, I say, till the break of day, but the truth remains the truth:From "One Old Cat" to the last "At Bat," was there ever a guy like Ruth?

He can start and go, he can catch and throw, he can field with the very best.He's the Prince of Ash and the King of Crash, and that's not an idle jest.He can hit that ball o'er the garden wall, high up and far away,Beyond the uttermost picket lines where the fleet-foot fielders stray.He's the Bogey Man of the pitching clan and he clubs 'em soon and late;He has manned his guns and hit home runs from here to the Golden Gate;With vim and verve he has walloped the curve from Texas to Duluth,Which is no small task, and I beg to ask: Was there ever a guy like Ruth?

No Answer Needed.

As a matter of fact, there was never even a good imitation of the Playboy of Baseball. What this big, good-natured, uproarious lad has done is little short of a miracle of sport. There is a common axiom: They never come back. But Babe Ruth came back twice. Just like him. He would.

It takes quite a bit of remembering to recall that the great home-run hitter was once the best left-handed pitcher in baseball. When he was a member of the Boston Red Sox team he set a record of pitching twenty-nine scoreless innings in world's series competition.

Then he started to slip and everybody said the usual thing: "Good-bye Forever!" (copyright by Tosti).

Babe gathered in all the "Good-byes" and said, "Hello, everybody! I'm a heavy-hitting outfielder."

And he was. He set a league record of twenty-nine home runs in 1919 and then he came to New York and took the cover off the siege gun.

The Heavy Firing.

That was Ruth's first come-back. A mild one. Others had done that, and the Babe yearned to be distinguished even from a chosen few. He wanted to be the One and Only. He nearly knocked the American League apart with fifty-four home runs in 1920, and in 1921 he set the record at fifty-nine circuit clouts for the season.

"It will stay there forever," prophesied the conservatives.

For five years the record was safe enough. In his bland and childlike way the Babe fell afoul of disciplinary and dietary laws, with the result that he was barred from the diamond for lengthy stretches on orders from Judge Landis, Miller Huggins and the Ruth family physician.

He set the record of fifty-nine home runs when he was 27 years old. In the following years he failed to come within hailing distance of his high-water mark, and once again everybody said: "Good-bye Forever!" (copyright by Tosti).

A Change in Tune.

The Babe's answer was: "Say au revoir, but not good-bye!" And G. Herman Ruth was as right as rain. It was "Au revoir" for five seasons, and in the sixth season the big boy came back with a bang!

Supposedly "over the hill," slipping down the steps of Time, stumbling toward the discard, six years past his peak, Babe Ruth stepped out and hung up a new home-run record at which all the sport world may stand and wonder. What Bill Tilden couldn't do on the tennis court, Babe Ruth has done on the diamond. What Dempsey couldn't do with his fists, Ruth has done with his bat. He came back.

Put it in the book in letters of gold. It will be a long time before any one else betters that home-run mark, and a still longer time before any aging athlete makes such a gallant and glorious charge over the come-back trail.

And in Conclusion.

You may rise and sing till the rafters ring that sad and sorrowful strain:"They strive and fail—it's the old, old tale; they never come back again."Yes, it's in the dope, when they hit the slope they're off for the shadowed vale,But the great, big Bam with the circuit slam came back on the uphill trail;Came back with cheers from the drifted years where the best of them go down;Came back once more with a record score to wear a brighter crown. My voice may be loud above the crowd and my words just a bit uncouth, But I'll stand and shout till the last man's out: There was never a guy like Ruth!

Original version from The New York Times, October 2, 1927.