HE WROTE A BOOK?
On this occasion, we’re reviewing “Babe Ruth’s Big Book of Baseball” by Babe Ruth. Let’s face it, though. Ruth was too busy hitting home runs to ever write a book, but whoever wrote this one did a good job of capturing the Babe’s voice.
One other observation: the “Big Book” isn’t very big. It’s only 63 pages, not 64 as the cover says. The pages are browning and the book, a paperback edition, is starting to fall apart. It was published in 1935 by The Reilly & Lee Company of Chicago and sponsored with “compliments” by The Quaker Oats Company, makers of Quaker Puffed Wheat and Puffed Rice. As a kid I hated Puffed Wheat and Puffed Rice. However, I really enjoyed this book.
It’s aimed at youngsters eager to learn all they can about baseball, but even if you are an old duffer like me, you can almost feel the Babe figuratively putting his arm around your shoulders like a favorite uncle as he talks about the game he loves.
“Baseball is the best game you boys can play because of the fun it offers,” he says. “I have played baseball ever since I was a boy in an orphan’s home. I have devoted my life to it and it’s been good to me in more ways than one. For that reason I am glad to what I can to help those of you who are growing up now to play better ball.”
Ruth constantly stresses the importance of being loose and relaxed. “The tendency is to tighten up when the ball is hit toward you, or you are up there at the plate awaiting a fast ball from the pitcher. But the right way to play ball, and the only way you can play the game well, is to be floppy, limber and loose.”
And strong, he might have added. “Milking cows is a good exercise to increase wrist strength,” he says.
The Babe doesn’t say if Jimmy Fox of the Philadelphia Athletics ever milked cows but notes he “has as strong wrists as anybody in baseball.”
Chuck Klein of the Cubs had powerful wrists, too, according to Ruth, the result of “catching” 180-pound hot steel plates with tongs and tossing them into the rolling mills at Indianapolis.
It’s probably safe to say that the Babe wasn’t big on analytics.
One of the delights of this book is how Ruth (or his ghostwriter) uses other greats of the game to make his points, discussing them in a way that makes them feel alive to the reader. Then again, they were alive when this book was written.
Lou Gehrig, for example, is said to have been anxious and uptight at the plate. “Lou had trouble like that when he first came up to the majors,” Ruth says.
“He tended to lunge at the ball. He could not wait that little fraction longer.” At the same time, the Big Bam points out that “just about every hitter has his faults” and it’s only the ones who work to overcome them who become stars, players like Ty Cobb and Rogers Hornsby.
Hornsby, “one of the greatest hitters in the game,” is described as having near-perfect form at the plate but someone who doesn’t think form means much. “It’s the hitting heart that counts,” Hornsby declares. By that, explains Ruth, he means “fearlessness to stand up there and take toe-holds on the fastest pitchers.”
Ruth should know. Although he’d been an outstanding pitcher early in his career, it was hitting that gave the Sultan of Swat more pleasure than anything else.
“There is no greater thrill in the sport than smacking that old apple right on the nose,” he says. Although Ruth is famous for having used incredibly heavy bats in his early years, ranging from 40 to 54 ounces, he warns that “Most boys use a bat that is too heavy for them. When a 230-pounder like Gabby Hartnett can knock home runs with a 32 ounce bat, you can understand that a light bat is better than one that is overweight for long distance hitting.”
Given that the Babe’s book came out in 1935, it’s not surprising that certain baseball expressions are different than those we hear today. “When a long drive is slashed out over the fence in the majors, the big leaguers say, ‘That ball was well-whipped.’” Ruth is telling youngsters that they’ll be better hitters if they think of “whipping the ball, as with a buggy whip, instead of slugging it as with a maul.” With sharp wrist action, he says, “you will be less inclined to overstep, lunge and throw off your timing.”
As is common with books written years ago, there are places where political correctness takes a beating. In one section, Ruth is explaining what happens when a batter manages to work the count to 3–0. “He may be sure that the next pitch is going to be right down the middle, and he can take a toe-hold on it with nothing to lose if he misses. That is called ‘picking on a cripple.’ If you watch carefully in big league games you will find a fair share of the long hits coming when the batter ‘goes for a long one’ when the pitcher is ‘in the hole’ and coming up with ‘a cripple.’”
Two notes:
- The Big Bam was a big fan of bunting. Who knew? “While slugging out base hits requires some mysterious ability we call instinct,” he says, “bunting is largely mechanical and can be learned by almost anyone with steady practice.”
- He also disliked signals. (Me, too. There French are obsessive about signals! One of the first questions I was asked when I started playing here was, “Do you know any good signs?”) The Babe observes that “Most boys’ teams are strong on signals. I think they probably overestimate them, myself. There are not so many plays that they can execute, but they like the fancy frills of signaling, with all the fancy motions. Signals in the big leagues grow out of the natural actions of the players. It is well to remember that if you are using signals, make sure they reflect the natural mannerisms of your players and not be too obviously ‘signals.’”
All of which brings us back to Quaker Puffed Wheat and Rice. On the inside cover, we learn that by sending in two box tops, you can receive “a dandy Babe Ruth emblem for the sleeve or the front of your sweater” or a copy of this book “with tips on how to become a star.”
Three box tops will get you a “nifty pair of heel cleats which can be put on your regular shoes.” Four box tops will win you a baseball cap “which will make you the envy of the team” while ten will garner you a catcher’s chest protector.
Hmmm. Maybe I should give Puffed Wheat and Rice another try.
