Monday, August 1, 1927: New York City
Benny’s Back
On Saturday, my roomie Benny Bengough got his first start of the year behind the plate. Up till now Benny has only come in as a late-inning replacement in four of our nearly 100 games, and had batted just once, a couple of weeks ago against Detroit, flying out in the process.
Benny’s been nursing his dead arm, which is why Huggins hasn’t penciled him in for any games. Unfortunately, not even our seven-hour round trip in May to see Bonesetter Reese in Youngstown, Ohio, was able to bring Benny’s arm back to life. But this heat wave that’s driving everyone nuts seems to have loosened up Benny’s wing a bit.
That game in Detroit a few weeks ago was a disaster for Benny, and for our catcher who started the game, Pat Collins. The Tigers stole seven bases — two on Collins and five on Benny, even though he only played three innings.
After the fifth steal against Bingo by the Tigers, Gehrig — who had been the driver for our seven hour excursion to the bonesetter — sat down next to Benny and told him not to worry. Lou said he and Schoolboy were to blame. “We didn’t do a good job holding the runners close to the bag. Don’t get down on yourself, Benny.”
It was incredibly sweet of Lou to say that, especially during a game. But of course, Benny knew it wasn’t true. He just sat there, with Lou and me on either side of him, silently waiting for Huggins to pull him from the game.
But Huggins didn’t — although that was only because right after Lou’s pep talk, the umps called the game on account of darkness.
After everyone else had gone back to the clubhouse, Benny and I sat in the empty dugout. It took him a couple of minutes before he was ready to go back inside.
“Pathetic,” he muttered. He was staring out at the twilight of the field, and perhaps his career. “Ruth’s best friend is the home run. My best friend is the sunset.”
“Come on, rooms,” I said to him. “Let’s go drink this one off.”
“That’s okay. I just want to sit here and wallow in it. I want to remember everything about the day I became a full-time coach.”
“Your arm will come back.”
“Rooms,” said Benny, “my arm has about as much chance of coming back as Fatty Arbuckle does.”
Three weeks later, thanks to this furnace of a summer, Benny’s arm is feeling loose and Huggins has finally written his name into the starting lineup, against the Indians. Cleveland is mired in the second division, and they’re far from devils on the basepaths, so they’re a good team for Benny to debut against.
Huggins called him into his office the day before and, as Benny relayed the conversation before we left the locker room, “Hugg told me not to worry — that no matter what happens tomorrow I’m a part of the ’27 Yankees.”
“Wish he’d give me that talk,” I say to Benny.
“I heard he gave it to Pipgras.”
“Thanks, rooms.”
“See you tomorrow,” he says with a broad smile.
Dutch Ruether is the pitcher for Benny’s 1927 debut. Going into the game, Dutch is 11–2 with an ERA below 3.00, but in the second inning the Indians knock him around pretty good, scoring three runs. Even worse, Charlie Jamieson, the Tribe’s fleet-footed left fielder, swipes a base — without Benny even bothering to throw the ball down to second.
Two batters later, on a single to right, Jamieson is racing home — but he’s cut down by a thunderbolt from Ruth. Benny makes an equally sensational play, blocking the plate to make the tag, and end Cleveland’s half of the inning. He trots back to the dugout to a hero’s welcome from the entire team — led by Huggins.
In the bottom half of the inning, Benny steps up to the plate and spanks the ball to left for a double. And our dugout goes nuts.
In the third, Gehrig walks for the second time in two trips to the plate. Then — after Meusel singles and Gehrig advances to third — Hugg calls for a double-steal. Meusel is safe at second, and Gehrig slides across home plate untouched.
Gehrig jogs back to the dugout and upon his arrival, in very uncharacteristic fashion for Lou, he announces to the team, “That one was for Benny!”
The dugout goes nuts, again.
“Hey, look, Bingo’s blushing!” yells Ruth, giving Benny a bear hug.
We steal two more bases on Benny’s behalf, for a total of four — the most we’ve stolen in any game this year — on our way to a 7–3 victory.
Despite being walked twice, Gehrig clubs two out of the park, his 34th and 35th of the year, to tie and then pass Ruth in their Home Run Derby.
On his way out, Gehrig stops by and puts his hand out to Benny.
“Welcome back,” says Lou.
- July 9, 1927: “2 Homers For Ruth; Yanks Divide Day”. New York Times article and Box Score.
- July 30, 1927: “Gehrig’s 2 Homers Pass babe For Lead”. New York Times article and Box Score.
