Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise., 1935-06-07
~
from the
Democrats S Pen

DOxxxO~xO O3& - = SAS
Well, Sir, there's been whole lot
of talk. within the past week or ten
days, about this IN R A" business.
don't know very much as to this
special alphabetical national activity,
but somebody told me yesterday 1t
meant "No Ruth Around" That made
it all clear. The big Bambino has
about reached the home plate of his
life's diamond and has made his way
to the showers.
But he says differently. He de-
clares he is not through with base ball
and lust as soon as he can get his old
physical chassis fitted out with this
new contraption known as "Knee Ac-
tion" he'll be ready to tell that Boston
crowd where to go at. He claims that
he's got bad knee, that's all.
Well. so have a lot of other peo-
pie could name, and this widespread
disability is the result of the peculiar
habit the years have Of darting by
us like so many fence posts hurtling
past a rapidly moving motor car.
There's something gets the matter
with the lubricating system Of the hu-
man carcass as winters and summers
pile upon us; and, unfortunately, ma
tural oiling of the old bones accepts
no substitute in any mechanical pro-
cess.
But, you'll have to hand it to the
old war horse, he's still trying to stay
in the race. Base ball has been his
whole life's thought, word, and deed,
and soon as he rests up, he's going
to show 'em just what comeback
means. But it looks as if the flesh
is weak, no matter how sparkling is
the spirit. There's lot of territory
in the outer garden that fails to feel
the impress of his spikes, when sky
scraper sours into the ether, awaiting
out-stretched hands to score an out.
Gehrig, which, somehow or other, pre-
And then comes that bounding grass
cutter from some hitter like Foxx or
fers a pathway through the big fell
lows legs instead of nesting into his
coaxing palms.
Further, the box score more fire.
quently reveals goose-egg opposite
his name than one of the cardinal
numbers. Now and then he connects
and the ball seeks winter quarters
in Greeland, Alaska, or some other
arctic locality, but, ordinarily, he eth
er pops to the infield, sends a graceful
fly into waiting gloves, or, pathetical-
ly, makes his way to the water-cooler
after vainly striving to halt the course
of the ball on it's way from hurler to
receiver.
And yet Babe Ruth's name was a
magnet that, up to the very moment,
he surrendered his suit, was magnet
that caused the turn-stiles to sing its
clicking song so sweet to managerial
ears. And, sooth to say, it was music
to the big boys soul, too. He was not
impervious to the flattery of surging
crowds and roaring applause. Some
way or other, because Ruth did it, it
took on glamor which no other play
er could give it.
It's going to be difficult for him
to pass out of the picture. And after
twenty-one years in the big leagues,
can't you people see him turn up his
nose at suggestion coming from Bal
timore that he return to the scenes of
early base ball efforts? A minor
league! Horrors and more horrors!
Why, he couldn't squeeze his corpor-
osity through the gates of a minor
league park, and an Oriole cap couldn't
be made large enough for his expan-
sive head. No, Sir, it's either big
league base ball for him in some form
or-golf, b'gosh!
Well, I don't know whether he's
saved his pennies or not, but he's
handled enough filthy lucre, to give
the merry hah, hah, to any old ball
club, buy himself another car, take a
trip to Europe, or indulge himself as
he will. The game, tho, as he passes
out, will miss him, even as a big elec-
trio bulb is missed as it's wires snap
and leave dark circle of unlighted
space. He's probably been worth what
he's earned. Here's wishing the Big
Boy the opportunity of enjoying life
of refreshing and comfortable ease.