Golden Baseball Magazine
June 18, 2014

Cleveland C Chet "Pinch" Thomas in 1920 when Babe Ruth clouted 54 HRs:

I wish someone would describe to me just the kind of batter com­ing along in 1940, or maybe 1999, who will take Babe Ruth’s record away from him. If he ever happens, he will be some freak. It would take a man 7 feet tall, weighing 300 pounds and able to lift a piano with either hand to drive a baseball any further than Babe Ruth can drive it.

Cardinals Clubhouse

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    The Cardinals had come close in '63. Could they take the next step?

  • Cardinals Quiz - Who am I?

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Even the Greats Have Bad Days

Babe Ruth already reigned supreme in baseball entering the 1922 World Series. Giants manager John McGraw was determined to take him down a peg.

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The Ultimate Game

1955: Dodgers @ Yankees

Brooklyn pinned its hopes of finally winning a champion­ship on a pitcher who almost didn't make the World Series roster.

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From the Golden Archives

Baseball Vignette: "Lucky" Lohrke

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Shore Replaces Ruth
The October Heroes: Great World Series Games Remembered by the Men Who Played Them, Donald Honig (1979)

Ernie Shore recounted his most famous game for author Donald Honig.

Umpire Brick Owens

It was on June 23, 1917, at Fenway Park, against Washington. Babe Ruth actually started the game for us, but he didn't stay in there very long. He walked the first batter, Ray Morgan. Babe didn't approve of some of Brick Owens' ball and strike decisions and let the umpire know about it. Babe got to jawing so much that Owens finally told him to start pitching again or be thrown out of the game. That seemed to set Babe off even more and he said something like, "If I go I'm going to take a sock at you on my way out." Well Owens gave Babe the thumb right then and there. Ruth tried to go after Owens but a few of the boys stopped him, and a good thing too.

Red Sox P Ernie Shore and Babe Ruth
Ernie Shore and Babe Ruth
I was sitting on the bench and Jack Barry, our manager and second baseman, came running over to me and said, "Shore, go in there and stall around until I can get somebody warmed up."

You see he never intended to have me go in there and finish the game. What he wanted me to do was go out on the mound and try to kill as much time as I could while he got somebody else ready in the bull pen. But there wasn't too much stalling I could do, because when a pitcher was thrown out of a ball game the next man was en­titled to just five warm-up pitches. That's how it was back then. I don't know how they work it today.

I took my warm-ups and then started pitching to the next batter. Well, on my very first pitch, Mor­gan, the fellow Ruth had walked, tried to steal second and was thrown out. I threw two more pitches and retired the side.

When I came back to the bench Barry said to me, "Do you want to finish this game, Ernie?" My ball was breaking very sharply and he had seen that.
"Sure," I said.
"Okay," he said. "Go down to the bull pen and warm up."

So I did that and came back for the second inning. From then on I don't think I could have worked easier if I'd been sitting in a rocking chair. I don't believe I threw seventy-five pitches that whole game if I threw that many. They just kept hitting it right at somebody. They didn't hit but one ball hard and that was in the ninth inning. John Henry, the catcher, lined one on the nose but right at Duffy Lewis in left field. That was the second out in the ninth. Then Clark Griffith, who was managing Washington, sent a fellow named Mike Menosky in to bat for the pitcher. Griffith was a hard loser, a very hard loser. He didn't want to see me complete that perfect game. So he had Menosky drag a bunt, just to try and break it up. Menosky could run, too. He was fast. He dragged a good bunt past me, but Jack Barry came in and made just a wonderful one-hand stab of the ball, scooped it up and got him at first. That was a good, sharp ending to the game, which I won by a score of 4-0.

It wasn't until after the season that they decided to credit me with an offi­cial perfect game. There had been a little controversy about it because I had faced just twenty-six men. But they decided to put it in the books as a perfect game and it's been there ever since.

I didn't even know I had a no-hitter going, much less a perfect game, until I sat down on the bench in the eighth inning. Then one of the fellows said to me, "Do you know they don't have a hit off of you?"

Well, I didn't know.

"Maybe they'll get one in the ninth," I said. Then I laughed and said, "And maybe they won't."

They didn't.

How Would You Rule?

Intentional walk or not?

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