Judge — July 1932 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGING 2 SPORTS and girls, it looks like so let's go out to the Yankee dium and sit in the bleachers. Let us mix with the fans, take off our coats and our shirts too, and get a free sun tan to say nothing of a load of real baseball from the lads who know. All this mark you for fifty cents. Look, there is Robbie! znkee rooter from the pre-Huggins a. He sits there in Ruthville (that part of the right field stands where the Babe’s long clouts are wont to fall), a large, black faced, smiling creature. His voice is stentorian, his contayious enthusiasm a joy to be- hold. Rumor has it that Robbie gets a season pass. He deserves it in all faith. Watch him when the Yankee: on one of their famous late Up he jumps, mammoth black hi clapping in broken rhythm, and t fog horn voice booming out: “ Ruth! Yaah Gehrig! Oh you Tony Laz: Come on, shake that W' LL boys nice ¢ A veteran thing! And the mob around him starts a shuffling syncopated war dance, destined to strike confusion into the heart of the opposing pitcher, * It was Robbie who organized Ruth- ville. And how the boys out there bear patiently with th idol. Let him strike out, let him ground out into a double play, they know he'll come through. And when he tops in- effectualities with a grand slam far up into the bleachers, watch them re- ceive him he trots back into his place in right field. A thousand white handkerchiefs wave at their hero, A voices shriek hosannas to this pot bellied man as he tips his hat, spits into his glove and hunches over ch the play at the plate. Maybe a sprinkling of G will be there. Py come the Americ 1 eye on the s the Giant runs come in few and far between from the West, and the other to no- tice the defects in the Yankee team, These outsiders Coogan Bluff are spotted and the age old feud starts. For you must know that when a Giant fan and a Yankee rooter get to- gether there is always a battle of words, and oft- times fis’ Who is the better first baseman, Lou Gehrig or Bill Terr 7 latter’s matchless grace and hitting skill against the home run clouts and runs driven in record of “Hun- ery” Lou. to scorn from soon How these fans know their be ball! Old timers sit there nodding in the sun with stories of Mathewson, Sisler, Whitey Witt, Hal Chase and other much older favorites, on their lips. The late Tad once remarked that they all looked good fa and thus do these old time! upon the giants of the past to ri up and refute the arguments of pre ent day worshipers of Ruth, Gomez, Vance and others. It scems that here are the real reade of those pe al notes which are dished out daily in our evening papers by idea hung baseball scribes, Ask that Italian fan in front of you how much Tony Lazzeri lost in the market. See if he knows where Crosseti went to school. Does he? Of course he does. These and a thousand other much more intimate (Page 25, please)