BABE RUTH’S HISTORIC RETURN TO BALTIMORE

Most Major League players are lucky if they achieve one truly historic moment in their careers. What can we say about a guy who does it twice in two weeks? About the only thing we can say is the name, Babe Ruth. We just celebrated the 100th anniversary of Babe’s nearly incredible feat of launching a baseball 552–feet through the air in Tampa, Florida on April 4, 1919. That epic drive contends for the distinction of being the longest home run in baseball history. Who could possibly compete with that?

Who indeed?

George Herman “Babe” Ruth stands alone as baseball’s greatest player as well as its most mythically empowered legend. So, yes, here we go again. On April 18, 1919, Ruth returned to Baltimore, Maryland (the city of his birth in 1895) as a member of the World Champion Boston Red Sox. He and his teammates were there to play two spring exhibition games as they traveled north from Florida to open the regular season at New York’s Polo Grounds on April 23.

After leaving Baltimore back in 1914 to report to the Red Sox for the first time, Ruth had returned on a few occasions for unofficial games. However, he had done so as “merely” a star pitcher. Now, in the spring of 1919, Babe was coming home as the game’s newest and greatest slugger. He was still regarded as a pitcher, but he had also earned a reputation as the mightiest batsman in the land. Accordingly, Baltimore was anxious to welcome their native son.

For his part, The Babe was just as eager to make them proud. When he left two days later, Ruth had made history for the second time in two weeks. This is what happened.

******************************

Upon leaving Tampa, the Red Sox had played games in Gainesville (FL), Columbia (SC), Spartanburg (SC), and Richmond (VA) before arriving in Baltimore. Ruth’s April 15 blast at the Richmond Fairgrounds had set another local distance record. Two days later on the same field, Babe added another homer, this one being hailed as the highest blow ever witnessed by those who saw it.

By the next morning, Ruth was touring his original hometown, shaking hands with old friends as he prepared for the afternoon ballgame with the Baltimore Orioles of the International League. Those Orioles had once been a Major League power, but had dropped into the “high minors” by the time Ruth played for them in 1914. As of 1919, owner-manager Jack Dunn (credited as the discoverer of Babe Ruth) was assembling one of the greatest-ever Minor League dynasties. Although not officially a big league ball club, the Orioles of that era were a worthy opponent for anyone.

The game was set for 3 P.M. at Oriole Park which had been constructed in 1914 for the Terrapins of the newly created Federal League. When that enterprise failed after the 1915 season, the Orioles took over the ballpark. Baltimore was deeply proud of Babe Ruth, but its citizens also had enough pride in themselves to fiercely compete with him. Accordingly, Jack Dunn selected a young left-hander by the name of Allen Herbert to be his starting pitcher. Ruth had never seen Herbert; therefore, Dunn felt that such a matchup would be favorable to the home team.

Ruth started that first game in left field while batting fourth. The weather was raw and chilly which held the attendance to about 2,000 shivering fans. In his first at-bat, much to the dissatisfaction of those hearty souls, Babe walked. In the third inning, when Ruth batted next, there was no reason to believe that anything extraordinary was going to happen that day. But this was Babe Ruth, and, as we now know, the extraordinary was always within his reach. On his first swing, Ruth launched an imposing drive that cleared the right field wall as well as a telephone wire far behind that barrier. It was a blow of over 400 feet.

By the fourth inning, Herbert was gone, but Dunn was ready with another junk-balling lefty, a guy named Hersperger. Apparently, he was just as nervous as his predecessor about pitching to Ruth for the first time, and could not find home plate. Babe walked again without taking a swing. Fortunately, Ruth’s teammates were feasting on these youthful hurlers, and he was destined to bat three more times.

When he faced a right-hander named Harry Frank (24 game winner in 1919) in the fifth inning, Babe really unloaded. That drive soared high over the right centerfield wall, and passed between two houses on its way to Greenmount Avenue. It landed over 450 feet from home plate, and may have reached the magical 500–foot plateau that only Ruth had achieved in the annals of his sport.

As Babe and his buddies continued to pound the ball on their way to a one-sided 12–3 victory, Ruth, as usual, was the main story. In both the 7th and 9th innings, he leaned into Frank’s first hittable pitches and powered them far over the right field wall. The first of those was another 450-footer (at least), and the second ball that Babe had sent all the way to Greenmount Avenue. Everyone in attendance was absolutely astonished at what they had seen.

Arguably the most amazing aspect of Ruth’s performance was the fact that he had fashioned those remarkable results by swinging only four times! That’s right: Babe had clubbed four long home runs without ever swinging and missing or ever hitting a foul ball. Jack Dunn had stocked his staff with left-handed pitchers, and used two of them to keep Ruth off balance. Nothing had worked, and Dunn was admittedly stunned.

It is extremely difficult to center the bat on balls pitched by professionals (who are trying to get you out) just twice in a row. Yet, Babe Ruth had done it four straight times. It was a truly remarkable accomplishment. Would there be an encore the next day?

******************************

Although Boston manager Ed Barrow enjoyed Ruth’s gaudy home run barrage, he wasn’t as euphoric as other folks. Barrow was old school all the way, and was still not inclined to move his star pitcher off the mound and into the field. Big Ed was highly pragmatic, and remained unconvinced that anyone (including Ruth) could hit enough homers to warrant such a dramatic position change.

So, when the Red Sox faced the Orioles on Saturday, April 19, 1919, Babe Ruth was batting ninth and pitching. Jack Dunn chose the conventional route for the second game, and inserted Rube Parnham as his starter. The six-foot-three-inch Parnham was a colorful character as well as Dunn’s ace right-hander. Rube was the hardest thrower on the squad (Lefty Grove would not arrive in Baltimore until the next season), and went on to win twenty-eight games that year. He intended to show Babe that he was the star attraction that day when they squared off in the second inning.

On the first pitch, Ruth took a vicious swing and fouled it back into the stands. Parnham was more cautious after that and threw a couple of breaking balls out of the strike zone. Then, with the count at 2 and 1, he decided on another fastball. Big mistake. As the pitch zipped just wide of the outside corner, Babe whipped his fifty-plus-ounce bat in a wide arc that created an ear-piercing sound when it connected. The ball shot like a laser toward the houses just right of center field, and appeared as though it might never land. It flew so far into the distance that no one was certain where it finally landed. Some sources claimed that this Homeric drive crashed down on the front roof (the farthest point) of a house facing Greenmount Avenue. Others asserted that it didn’t descend until it collided with a roof on the far side of the street.

Taking the conservative, minimalist approach, we know that the front of the house on the near side of Greenmount Avenue was approximately 490 feet from home plate. That dwelling stood about twenty–four feet above ground level, meaning that a fly ball of average height and trajectory would have flown another sixteen feet. Putting all the data together, Babe Ruth’s home run off Parnham flew about 506 feet.

However, if Mel Webb of the Boston Globe (along with a few others) was correct about the ball clearing the street, Ruth’s drive might have flown even farther than his epic shot in Tampa from two weeks earlier. In that scenario, Babe’s Baltimore blow traveled some 560 feet, and might have been the longest-ever in baseball history.

It is unlikely that we will ever know for sure, so let’s play it safe and embrace the 506–foot conclusion. Babe Ruth doesn’t need hyperbole to stand alone as the game’s mightiest hitter, and there is no reason to give nay-sayers any cause to doubt his story.

By the next inning, Ruth was due to bat again against Parnham, but Jack Dunn wanted no part of that. He brought in yet another curve-balling lefty, this time a guy named Rudy Kneisch. The youngster started Babe with a slow bender, but Ruth outguessed him. He kept his weight back, and sent a soaring drive to right field not far from the foul line. As the ball cleared the fence, landing near the street, Ruth circled the bases for his sixth home run in six straight at-bats. Unbelievable, yet true!

******************************

All these events have been carefully researched by a team of historians. Most of the information has been obtained from the newspapermen who covered the games in person. That includes five papers from Boston and three from Baltimore. In most cases, there was a consensus about what happened. However, there were exceptions. Such was the case with the Babe’s fifth and longest home run. On one other matter, there is also a small amount of uncertainty. It applies to one of the most intriguing dynamics of Babe Ruth’s unforgettable performance. There was so much detail that we know (with only one possible exception) exactly how many swings it took Babe to launch those six homers. He didn’t swing at all on his two bases-on-balls. On four of his home runs, he needed only one swing. 

When he smashed his longest drive (against Rube Parnham), Ruth connected on his second swing. Only on his third circuit shot is there any ambiguity. The newspaper language strongly suggests that Babe recorded that homer against Harry Frank on his initial swing, but we can’t be absolutely sure. If true, though, it means that Babe Ruth centered his bat against ball while facing professional, competitive pitching on six of seven very hard swings. That is virtually impossible, but we’re talking about Babe Ruth here.

When he batted for the ninth time over the course of the last twenty-six hours, Ruth faced Rudy Kneisch once more. This time, the young lefty prevailed. Taking three mighty swings, Babe hit nothing but air while striking out. Even Babe Ruth had to deal with human limitations and mathematical probability. Nobody can indefinitely continue to whip a bat through the air and make perfect contact with a thrown baseball. Finally, the law of averages had caught up with the wondrous Bambino.

Ruth pitched a total of four innings, giving up only one run before being replaced by Carl Mays. Although he wanted to switch to first base so he could keep batting, manager Barrow overruled him. His historic performance was over. That night, he rode the train to New York where, a few days later, he began his record-setting season as a slugger.

******************************

We have no knowledge of any hitter ever matching Ruth’s deeds in that 1919 visit to Baltimore. It is highly improbable that we ever will. At least one of Babe’s drives exceeded 500 feet in length, possibly as many as three. When it is understood that only one such home run has been hit by the combined rosters of every Major League team so far in the 21st Century (over twenty years), that distance level is nearly superhuman.

Babe Ruth was a freak of nature, a biological aberration, an outlier in the evolutionary path to the future. Sure, he was also a flawed man, someone who often had difficulty in controlling his appetites. Yet, the counterpoint to the counterpoint tells us that he was also demonstrably kind, caring, generous, and seemingly always willing to give a helping hand to anyone who needed it. All in all, Babe Ruth was an endearingly implausible figure in our great American saga, a man who is truly worthy of our respect and affection. He did things on and off the baseball field which will live in our hearts and minds for as far as we can see into the future.

— Bill Jenkinson, Baseball Historian (Copyright 2019)