The Yankees met the Browns the day my suspension was lifted. I'll never forget that game. It was one in a million, for the Browns actually won it after the last man had been called out.

It was played at the Polo Grounds on a Saturday, and there was such a terrific turnout that the police shut the gates an hour before game time. A lot of fans came out to see Bob and me, but it was our sec­ond baseman, Aaron Ward, who provided the main thunder. He hit a home run with a man on base, giving us an early 2 to 0 lead on (P Urban) Shocker. Sam Jones was our pitcher. He gave up a run in the eighth but retired the first two men in the ninth, and we seemed to have the game won.

Then two pinch-hitters made good for the players at the bottom of the line-up. That brought up John­nie Tobin, their fast lead-off man. Johnnie grounded down to Wallie Pipp at first, who tossed it over to Sam Jones, covering first base, and Umpire Ollie Chill thumbed Tobin out. We broke for the clubhouse while the fans in the lower stands tumbled out onto the field.

But Jones hadn't made a clean catch of the ball. Pipp's throw hit Sam's glove, took a short bounce, and by the time Sam grabbed it securely, Tobin had crossed the bag.

(Lee) Fohl, coaching at first, squawked to Chill and finally went to the umpire behind the plate, who admitted that Jones hadn't caught the ball when it first struck his glove and that Tobin should have been ruled safe.

From then on there was the craziest mix-up I ever saw. Some of our players were already in the showers and thought it was a gag when they were told to return to the field. "Hey, I saw Chill call that man out," I squawked, and I had plenty of company.

In the meantime the fans were milling around on the ball field, and it took the special cops about 20 minutes to clear the field.

It still makes me froth to think what happened after that. Jones had cooled off and had lost his stuff by the time he returned to the rubber. There were a couple of blooper hits and bases on balls which tied the score, and then that big (Baby Doll) Jacobson came up with the bases filled and knocked a ball into the lower right-field stands.

The Browns scored six runs after their last man had been called out and beat us 6 to 2!

If ever there was a wild ball club it was us in the clubhouse that night. As for Jones, the loss of the game bothered him so much that he went on a ten-game losing streak immediately afterward.

I wasn't much help. While my suspension limited my season to 110 games, I fell off in all departments. My batting average sank from .378 to .315, and my home runs dropped from 59 to 35. That still was a lot of homers, but it wasn't good enough to keep my home-run title that season.

Our 1922 team wasn't a harmonious club, and looking back I'm really surprised we finally won. I had my arguments with Hug (Manager Miller Huggins) and so did (pitchers Waite) Hoyt, (Carl) Mays, and (Joe) Bush. The club knew that (Owner Tilly) Huston had no use for Huggins, and that didn't increase our respect for the little man.

The Yankees of that period were an odd club. I don't believe there ever was a gamer, more fighting team. We played up to the hilt in every game, but we had more than our share of night riders. We kept a couple of Jersey beer barons rich.

(General Manager Ed) Barrow hired a detective to make a Western trip with us and report back to him. The gumshoe posed as a great Yankee fan who was taking the trip as a sort of vacation. He seem­ed to know a lot of spots we had never heard of.