I didn't know whether they were gonna get on me any more or not when I got to the box, but I saw a lemon rolling out to the plate and I looked over and there was (P Pat) Malone and (P Burleigh) Grimes with their thumbs in their ears wiggling their fingers at me.
I told (C Gabby) Hartnett: "If that bum (Root) throws me in here, I'll hit it over the fence again," and I'll say for Gabby, he didn't answer, but those other guys were standing up in the dugout, cocky because they'd got four runs back and everybody hollerin'. So I just changed my mind. I took two strikes and after each one I held up my finger and said: "That's one" and "that's two." Ask Gabby...he could hear me. Then's when I waved to the fence!

A single lemon rolled out to the plate as Ruth came up in the fifth and in no mista­ken motions the Babe notified the crowd that the nature of his retaliation would be a wallop right out the confines of the park. Root pitched two balls and two strikes, while Ruth signaled with his fingers each pitch to let the spectators know exactly how the situation stood. Then the mightiest blow of all fell. It was a tremendous smash that bore straight down the center of the field in an enormous arc, came down alongside the flagpole and disappeared behind the corner formed by the scoreboard and the end of the right-field bleachers.
It was Ruth's fifteenth home run in world's series competition and easily one of his most gorgeous. The crowd, suddenly unmindful of everything save that it had just witnessed an epic feat, hailed the Babe with a salvo of applause.
The Babe had a good laugh at the expense of the Cubs on the bench who directed some uncomplimentary remarks at him just before he walloped his second homer. The drive effectually silenced the bench-warmers.

Nobody but a blankety-blank fool woulda done what I did that day. When I think of what-a idiot I'd a been if I'd struck out and I could-a, too, just as well as not because I was made and I'd made up my mind to swing at the next pitch if I could reach it with a bat. Boy, when I think of the good breaks in my life...that was one of 'em! ...
But right now I want to settle all arguments: I didn't exactly point to any spot, like the flagpole. Anyway, I didn't mean to. I just sorta waved at the whole fence, but that was foolish enough. All I wanted to do was give that thing a ride...outta the park...anywhere.
No, I didn't point to any spot, but as long as I'd called the first two strikes on myself, I hadda go through with it. It was damned foolishness, sure, but I just felt like doing it and I felt pretty sure Root would put one close enough for me to cut at, because I was showin' him up. What the hell, he hadda take a chance as well as I did or walk me?
Gosh, that was a great feelin' ... gettin' a hold of that ball and I knew it was going someplace ... yes sir, you can feel it in your hands when you've laid wood on one. How that mob howled. Me? I just laughed ... laughed to myself around the bases and thinking: "You lucky bum ... lucky, lucky" and I looked at poor Charlie (Root) watch­in' me and then I saw Art Fletcher (Yankee coach) at third wavin' his cap and be­hind him I could see the Cubs and I just stopped on third and laughed out loud and slapped my knees and yelled: "Squeeze-the-Eagle-Club" so they'd know I was refer­rin' to Koenig and for special to Malone. I called him "meat-head" and asked when he was gonna pitch.
Yeah, it was silly. I was a blankety-blank fool. But I got away with it and after Gehrig homered, behind me, their backs were broken. That was a day to talk about.