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Babe Ruth at Westville
Babe Ruth at Westville
The heart of every youngster in Westville was gladdened on Tuesday at getting a close up of Babe Ruth in action at the ball-field. He slugged out some balls until he developed a “Charley-horse” in his leg. However he pleased the kids and that is apparently what he likes best to do, for he is just a big kid himself or, as he puts it, a regular guy. Mayor Saunders presented Babe with a case of pipes.
The St. Mary’s River was
good to the Babe Ruth party as they scored 17 salmon in
their brief visit.
-
New Glasgow Eastern Chronicle,
July 9,
1936
Babe Belts Homer for Nova Scotians
By Alex Nickerson
The Herald’s Sports Editor
Westville, July – It’s a far cry from the Yankee Stadium to the Westville ball park, to George Herman Ruth, sultan of swat, a ball thrown down the alley on any diamond is a ball that should be belted out of the park.
Away She Goes
Today, after several
preliminary flourishes, the Babe picked Dingy McLeod’s high
hard one with all the power of his 235-pound frame and while
admiring hundreds cheered wildly, baseball’s great man
followed the flight of the ball over the right field fence,
into a Westville street.
That was his final gesture. Slowly he strolled off the diamond, baseball’s forgotten man.
Forgotten, not by the men he played with or against or by millions throughout the world who cherish him as the No. 1 man of sport, but by the magnates for whom he saved the national game back in the dark years following the war.
Ball Game Halted
It was the first inning of
the exhibition game between Liverpool and Westville when the
Babe arrived at the park. A fan-fare of automobile horns
signaled his entrance to the grounds and the ball game was
halted. He ambled to the Westville dugout, a small army of
youngsters at his heels. He had promised officials of the
Westville club he would be back to bat a few balls for the
entertainment of the fans who had flocked form all over the
province.
No raw recruit could have been more eager to get the feel of the ball than was this curly headed, grinning giant, greatest slugger of all time – past, present and future. Nobody had thought to procure a pair of shoes for the Bambino. A hurried search, and Jimmie Morrele, Westville’s six-foot imported hurler, was speedily relieved of his footwear. Ruth deftly laced his shoes noting that the toe plate was on the wrong foot for him.
Picks Largest Club
He hefted four of the array
of bats laid out in front of the dugout. Selecting the
largest warclub in the Westville armory, he carefully wiped
it down with his handkerchief. There had been a sudden
shower a few minutes previous and the bats were still wet.
“This bat’s a little short,” he told Lalla Muirhead, Westville manger, “but it’ll do if I can keep it dry.”
“You gotta give me some good balls,” he admonished Muirhead after the second dozen of new balls had been autographed and handed back to the players and fans. “Don’t throw me any of those drug-store balls.”
The Westville team took the field, Dingie McLeod on the mound, Rod MacDonald behind the plate. Ruth let the first two pitches go by. Both were wide. Then he popped to Matheson back of second base.
Over
Fielder’s Head
It was almost a year since
he had swung a bat and he wasn’t connecting cleanly. Then
he found one to his liking. It was high and on the
outside. Effortlessly he started the swing, followed through
perfectly and though the bat had seemed to no more than
caress the ball, it sailed far into the “bad lands’ of right
field. Herb Leadbeater, playing deep, ran back for it, but
it was over his head.
The bat was too small for Babe’s huge hands. They were aching, “Where’s that other bat?” he roared towards the dugout. “The one with the knob on it.” He found the new weapon much better. Dingie McLeod began to throw a slower ball. Ruth didn’t fancy it.
“Don’t slow down out there,” he shouted. “I’ll put it out there,” pointing to the right field fence.
The ball seemed dead. He could not seem to get it beyond the outfielders.
“These balls must be made out of doughnuts,” he hollered to the delighted, expectant crowd.
Scotia Quoit Team 1912; l. to
r.: back row: Gus Hunter, Arthur Clark, Edward Matheson, Gus
Roy, Clarence Clark; front row: Joe Quigley, Victor
Sutherland, Alex Marshall, Tom Ross
Here’s
The Pitch
Then came the pitch he had
been waiting for. He watched it with a satisfied smile as
it roared high over the right field fence, then signaled the
audience he was through for the day.
Back at the dugout, he and Dr. G.A.L. Irwin, former Westville physician, were formally welcomed by Mayor Saunders and A.H. McQuarrie, former president of the Nova Scotia Baseball Association. The Babe responded briefly, thanked the people of Westville and the province for the splendid hospitality they had shown him and his party, lauded the salmon fishing, wisecracked about the dusty roads, assured everybody he was sorry he hadn’t been able to extend his visit to Nova Scotia, and trusted he would renew many newly formed friendships when he came down here again for a “lengthy vacation”.
He accepted the presentation gracefully, but was momentarily non-plussed when a youngster representing The Herald carriers of Pictou County reversed the time-honored practice and handed him a souvenir baseball, a token of the universal admiration in which baseball’s immortal figure is held.
-The Morning
Herald
July 8, 1936
The Westville High School
Baseball Team, Nova Scotia Champions 1930; l. to r.; front
row: J. Campbell, V. Muirhead; second row: Alex Matheson,
Joe Brain, Wm. Matheson, Capt.; Wm. Heron, A. McKenzie; back
row: Elmer Peters, Prin.; F.I. Lent, Mgr.; Wm. Richardson,
D. Matheson, S. Wadden. (ab. J. Fraser)