Gransbach proceeded to walk him, putting runners on first and second with only one out. Then the fireworks began. On the very first pitch to the right fielder Oakes, Ruth and White started to attempt a double steal. It caught everyone in the crowd by complete surprise. The Lit Brothers catcher Barger saw that he could not get Ruth at third, so he fired the ball down towards second base.
The ball arrived in plenty of time to get White out, but White quickly turned and tried to return to first base. Ruth instantly recognized that White was caught in a run down between bases, and would almost certainly be tug out. Ruth rounded third and looked back towards second base. Just as the second baseman tagged White out, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ruth was barreling towards home plate. He instinctively turned after and fired the ball towards the catcher.
It became immediately clear to all ten thousand people watching that Ruth and the ball were going to arrive at home plate at the very same instant. A sick feeling of complete dread overcame me as I watched the ball going straight towards the spot where Ruth was heading. Miraculously Ruth started to slide just as the ball was going to strike him squarely in his head. The catcher Barger jumped out in front of home plate and caught the throw just as Ruth slid over home plate in a cloud of dust.
For a second it seemed as though time was standing still, no one in the crowd cheered or made a sound. They all held their breath. The thought of the greatest baseball player in the world being hurt playing in a meaningless baseball game had to be going through everyone’s mind. For some reason to Ruth, I guess this game wasn’t meaningless. It took a few seconds but finally he stood up and brushed the dirt off his uniform as he jogged back to the Ascension bench. The umpire signaled that Ruth was safe at home. The crowd went wild. Nobody was even paying attention as the next hitter, Plews grounded to second base for the final out.
Lit Brothers won the game two to one. It all seemed more like a dream than something that could have been real. I watched everything happen from the far end of the Ascension team bench, and tried to soak in every minute of what was going on.
“I hope that I remember every detail of this game,” I said to Michael O’Brien. “When I tell my grandchildren about what happened here today, I want to make sure I get everything right. If I live to be a hundred years old, I pray that my memory doesn’t fail me, if only to remember that this day really happened and that it wasn’t a dream.”
30
As the game ended, the crowd surged onto the field. The Philadelphia police were out in great force, but were not able to keep the crowds from overrunning the field. I saw Reverend Casey and about a dozen police officers quickly whisk The Babe off the field and they rushed him into one of the waiting cars. There were reporters and photographers from the newspapers following them, but he didn’t stop to speak to anyone. It was clear that it was a prudent idea to get Ruth out of there as quickly as possible, and get him back to the safety of his hotel.
Within a minute or two of the game ending, Ruth was in the automobile, driving down Tioga Street, quickly disappearing out of sight. As the crowd realized that Ruth was gone, they slowly began to disperse.
I stood right behind home plate and looked out onto the majesty that was Boger Field, still surrounded by thousands of baseball fans. I stood there lost in my own daydream, feeling completely alone, when I was startled by a hand landing squarely on my shoulder. I jumped back to reality to find my parents on the field standing right behind me. They both smiled at me, and didn’t say anything for a moment.
“You must’ve had some day,” my mom said.
“You’ll have to tell us all about it on the way home,” my father laughed.
My first thought was of Johnny.
“Did you see Johnny at all during the game?” I asked.
“No, we thought he left the house with you this morning,” my mom replied.
“I searched everywhere around the neighborhood, but I couldn’t find him,” I said. “If he didn’t make it to the game I know something terrible must have happened to him. There’s no way he would’ve missed this unless something was really wrong.”
“I’m sure he is fine,” my mother said as she tried to reassure me. “With a crowd this big it’s not surprising that we didn’t see him.”
“He probably watched the game with his family,” my dad agreed.
I knew they were probably right, but I still did not understand why he missed meeting up with me in the morning.
The streets were crowded as we walked home from the field. There were waves of people moving down all the streets that led away from Boger Field. I am sure that there was never another event in the history of Kensington that had ever brought so many people together at one time and at one place. I could not imagine that there would ever be another time that this would happen again. This was truly a once in a lifetime, one for the ages, happening.
The crowds were very loud as they walked home. Everyone seemed to want to relive what they had just witnessed. As we got within a block of our house, I started looking behind us, hoping to see the Garrity family returning from the game. The crowd had thinned out substantially by the time we reached our street. Amazingly, darkness was just falling on Kensington, as it seemed that the heavens had allowed the light to shine through for a few extra minutes on this special day.
I did not know exactly what time it was as we reached our house. I figured it was somewhere between eight and eight-thirty, still early enough to knock on Johnny’s door.
“I’ll be right in, I just want to make sure that Johnny is alright,” I said.
“You have five minutes and then I want you in the house,” my mom replied.
As I walked up the front steps of Johnny’s house, I felt a sense of dread starting to overcome me.
“Something terrible must have happened to Johnny,” I said to myself. “There’s no way he would have missed the game if he wasn’t in big trouble. Maybe he was kidnapped and his parents did not even know it yet.”
I hesitantly forced myself to raise my fist and knock on the front door. I could feel the sting on my knuckles as they hit the wood. A few seconds passed with no response, I knocked a second time. This time Mrs. Garrity appeared at the door.
Her smile told me that, at least as far as she knew there was nothing wrong.
“Did Johnny get home from the game yet?” I asked.
I prayed that she wasn’t going to say that she thought that he was with me.
“You know, it’s funny,” she started, “he never got to the game.”
“I know you two had been looking forward to it for months, but when he came home this afternoon he said that he didn’t want to go to the game,” she said as the smile disappeared from her face.
What was she talking about? How could he be home and not want to go to the game? Something had to have happened.
“Can I talk to him?” I asked.
“Well he’s been up in his room all day, and he wouldn’t come out, not even for supper,” she said. “But I’ll go knock on his door and tell him that you’re here.”
I could not decide whether I was going to be sympathetic towards Johnny or just plain mad at him. I was sure he would have a good story to tell, but I could not imagine how it would be good enough to explain missing the game. At least if I saw him I would know that he was all right.
Three or four minutes passed as I waited anxiously outside Johnny’s house. Finally, Mrs. Garrity came back downstairs, her smile now completely gone.
“I am sorry, but he does not feel well, and he said he can’t get out of bed now,” she said.
“I am sure he will be better tomorrow, and you can tell him all about the game then,” she said, as she closed the door.
Well at least I knew he was all right, at least I guess he was all right, I never knew Johnny to get sick. In thirteen years, I do not think he got sick once, how could he get sick today. As I stood there alone on the doorstep, I could not help but think back to all the excitement of the day. I als
o could not help but think about how it had felt a little empty because Johnny had not been there to share it with me.
Tomorrow would be the last day of summer break before school would start again. Maybe if I spent the next day sharing all the highlights of the game with Johnny, he would feel as though he had been there, and it would be as if we had shared this day with each other after all.
Me, Johnny, and The Babe Page 25
