Judge — June 30, 1923 — page 20: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ROOTING by Edward Anthony UTH came tearing into third base. At the same moment a t relayed from the outfield, with a thud in Heinie Groh’s glove. Heinie dug the ball into the Babe's ribs. “You're out!” cried the umpire. He was only partly right. Ruth was out at third and Groh was out for the count. That is, almost. The Mandarin of Maul, hoofing it like mad, had collided with the milk can size third baseman and the inevitable took place. Heinie was bumped off his feet. Stunned, he rose and shook his fist in the Babe's The crowd was with him. “Soak ini shrieked the fans. And hed the ears of the much forty-nine versions of hy don’t you pick on a then there harassed the query feller you An impartial observer, witn incident of the late World Series, couldn't help feeling sorry for Ruth. What had he done? Running at top speed he had crashed into tiny Heinie who stand- ing smack in the base line, at least two yards off third. It was Groh’s privilege to stand there if he wanted to, but, like the freak rides at amusement parks, it was at his own risk. Ruth, sprinting at full speed, couldn’t check himself in time to prevent a collision. The Babe was not to blame—and neither was Heinie. No one was really at fault. It was just one of those things that happen in the course of a ball game. The crowd didn’t see it that way. They sing this “Passing the bucko.” FOR THE LITTLE GUY booed Ruth unmercifully. All one could hear for five mi s_the battle cry of the R nd—“Oo-00- 0-0-0!" ‘The who is a sensi- tive cuss, felt about it. The mob was jeering him and Groh cussing him out. He looked around appealingly, then he made for the Yankee A few seconds later he turned nd, striding toward Heinie, sta to say something. “The big. stiff we heard all around us, “Lookit him getting brave with little Heinie.” As a matter of fact, Ruth was tr; ing to tell Hel how: sorry he was that the thing had happened. The crowd, too excited was bench. back 18 Sketches by Weed to be fair, was rushing to the de! the little guy. love to sentimentali men. Whenever a big man Toney or Rube Marquard pitches to a five-footer like Rabbit Maranville of the Pittsburghs, some sympathetic soul near you, employi the fervent language of underdog par- tisanship, roots fully for the Rabbit to smack it. now the big bum what a little guy can do!” is one of the familiar lines. Needless to ; Maranville doesn’t need the sym- pathy that is lavished on him. Shortness of s' advan- tage at the plate. > Pirate shortstop is one of the hardest men in baseball to pitch to. It is for this reason that he is the “rowps little like Fred