Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1948-08-17

Fuchs denied Ruth permission to
attend a ceremony in New York.
So the aging and ailing Babe,
who four years before had drawn a
fabulous $4,000 salary, was out of
the game he had done much to
perpetuate.
Found No Place.
There was short resurrection in
1898 when the Brooklyn Dodgers
hired him as a coach for SIS, 900,
but that was the briefest kind of
comeback. BY 1910 the Babe was
ready to put aside all thoughts OF
staying in the game.
There was no place for the man
on whose life the Yankees had
carried 100000 insurance policy
for nearly a decade, the man who
attracted 100000 paid admissions
to Yankee games in 1927, the year
he was piling up so circuit clouts.
With his arrival in New York in
1920 came surge Of prosperity on
the heels Of $1,000, 900 in losses suf-
fered by Yankee Owners Rupert
and Col. Tillinghast Huston. When
Col. Huston sold out to Col. Rup-
pert in 1922 the price was $1,000 900.
The era of booming bank receipts
paralleled Ruth's meteoric rise. And
in 1923 Yankee Stadium - the
house that Ruth built"-came to
the New York scene.
Thanks to the hands that guided
some Of the Ruth fortune into saw
ingS. the Babe could retire like q
gentleman and conceal his disap-
pointment In genial living. Now he
turned to the golf course-always
his second-best game-for some Sc
rious diversion.
Never Lost Will to Win.
But his will to win never died.
The fellow who would grab the
check, no matter how large, would
below like q wounded steer II his
golfng rival asked him to concede
a 6-inch putt.
"Whaddeya think they put those
holes there for?" he'd bleat. TO
hold up the fiags?"
He shot a good game, too, in the
low 80s, and in the old days chewed
half a dozen plugs OF tobacco over
the 18-hole route. In 194l he met
Ty Cobb, another retired baseball
great, in a two-match golf series
that caught the public's fancy. They
broke even and proved nothing, ex-
cept that 1t paid to save your money
early so you could play golf in your
declining years.
Just as he battled for every stroke
on the links, the Babe would not
yield . point In handball; bowling
or even bridge. His was q fighting
heart to the end.
Had Soft Heart.
Although his working days viz
tually ended with his retirement
from baseball, he kept making
money through the magic CT his
name. He played himself in the
movie of Lou Gehrig's life, Pride
Of the Yankees" and once in 1a45
made q short tour as q wrestling
referee.
AS stout as his heart was in COM
petition, 1t was touchingly soft with
sentimentality. He was deeply de-
voted to his wife and foster chill
dren. In the old days he would
bring home loads of toys to the
girls and wear out most Of them
himself.
His endless trips to hospitals for
crippled children always tugged at
the publics heart. There was no
hint of press agentry in the visits,
for he had been a national byword
many years before he discovered
what q wonderful thing 1t was to
give some hopelessly crippled child
reason to live.
The picture OF him jogging around
the bases, or Of him climbing into
a taxi to escape the crowds adula-
ton, will always live with those who
saw the big fellow during his prime.
Couldn't Remember Names.
His singular inability to remember
names was always good for q laugh.
People he had known for years were
kid to him. Yet with these same
anonymous friends he. could weep
unashamedly when some kindly ges-
ture stirred his big heart.
His sartorial selections were wor-
thy of q note, too. In his playing