What Goes Around

About a year ago, when shortstop Derek Jeter passed Babe Ruth on the Yankees all-time hits list, the Babe Ruth Birthplace and Museum forwarded a request through the Yanks’ public relations office asking that Jeter consider donating something from that historic at bat that would forever link he and the Babe together.

Within a week’s time, an overnight parcel arrived at the Birthplace, and in it was Derek’s response to our appeal: his batting gloves from the at-bat…donated! This, from a guy we had never met, but who understood, I think, just how important sports heritage is, especially in the game of baseball, whose heavy tendency to compare present to past sets it apart from any other sport. That is why our museum can easily interpret the connection between Ruth and Jeter through those batting gloves.

With that said, it seemed appropriate that when Jeter smacked his historic 3,000^th hit for a home run at Yankee Stadium last Saturday, the young fan who caught it opted to return the ball to the man who hit it. The 23-year-old and the star shortstop had something in common…the corny notion that the ball has more value as a heritage memento than as a collectible worth X amount of dollars.

The kid could have sold the ball for half a million, paid off his college bills, and had a nice nest egg. But his altruistic sense and his love for the game told him to do the right thing, and he did…no questions asked. The ball needed to be returned to the man to whom it meant the most, the man who, one year earlier, gave away his valued batting gloves to a sports museum in Baltimore, no questions asked.

What goes around…comes around.

See you out there.

Mike Gibbons is the executive director for the Babe Ruth Birthplace Foundation, Inc. 

Taking Back Our Yard

October 15, 1997. I had just started working at the B&O Railroad Museum and was asked to stick around after work for a late meeting. I was a little annoyed because it was Game 6 of the ALCS against the Cleveland Indians. The Orioles had gone wire-to-wire under Davey Johnson with a 98-64 record. They were one game away from the World Series. This was going to be the year.

From my office I could hear the crowd’s every reaction to the action on the field, the cheers, the sighs, the clapping. “No worries…” I thought…after all…there would be other playoff games. 

Fast-forward to the present. It is hard to believe that fourteen years have passed since the Orioles were last in the playoffs. Hard to believe it has been fourteen years since we had a winning season. Hard to believe that this year’s college sophomores hadn’t started kindergarten the last time the Birds finished a season over .500. A whole generation has come to age not knowing what it feels like to support a winning hometown baseball team.

Oriole Park is still the magnificent ballpark that set the standard for all others. It is still the gem of downtown Baltimore. The team has a skipper that is determined to win. The front office under Andy MacPhail has returned to the team’s roots of developing young talent in the minor league system. The ownership has even spent money on some star power.

So what is missing? The answer is simple…us. As a baseball fan it is sad to see Oriole Park nearly empty on a mild Friday night when the Birds take on one of their AL East Division rivals. It is sad to see whole sections of that beautiful ballpark go unused. It is time for us to come back.  

A couple of weeks ago I was invited to join a group led by Debbie and Steve Peroutka called “Take Back Our Yard” (http://takebackouryard.com/). The group buys blocks of Orioles tickets when the Yankees or Red Sox are in town to help bring orange back to the ballpark. In addition to the camaraderie of other Orioles fans, participants get orange Oriole t-shirts and a pre-game party at the Sports Legends Museum. The catch? Wear orange and do not sell or give away the tickets to opposing fans.

The idea for “Take Back Our Yard” came from Debbie Peroutka. She and her husband Steve were out for a drink one night when they heard a young golfer refer to Oriole Park as “Fenway South.” The couple was irritated. Debbie determined right there that they were going to take back Oriole Park one section at a time. “In the tradition of Big Wheel and Wild Bill Hagy, Steve Peroutka said of his wife, “Debbie wants to be the cheerleader for the next big comeback.”

Debbie Peroutka is exactly what Oriole Park needs. “We want companies, or little leagues, or whatever organization to say ‘let’s buy a section’ with everyone wearing orange,” says husband Steve. Every grassroots movement has to start somewhere.  It is needed. We need to show our support. We need to show that Baltimore can support its team. I hope this movement catches on.

Shawn Herne is the Chief Curator for the Babe Ruth Birthplace Foundation, Inc.

Saluting Two Old Birds, Harry and Earl

One afternoon several years ago I received a telephone call from a woman who wanted to talk baseball with me.  I could tell from her voice that she was elderly, in her late seventies or early eighties.  She asked me if the museum had anything on exhibit from the International League Orioles.  I indicated we did.  “The 1944 team?” she asked.  “Yes” I replied.  She wondered if I knew about Harry Imhoff and did I know his connection to the 1944 Baltimore Orioles?   I did not.

Baltimore-born Harry Imhoff isn’t the first name to come to mind when talking about the ’44 Orioles.  The pennant-winning team was led by notable veteran and fan favorite Tommy Thomas. Other standouts included Howie “the Howitzer” Moss, who led the International League with 27 homers in 1944, catcher Sherm Lollar, left-fielder Stan Benjamin, third baseman Frank Skaff and pitcher Charles “Red” Embrees. Imhoff, newly signed by the Orioles in the spring of 1944, was to be an important part of the team’s future.  The Washington Post wrote, “Harry Imhoff, just out of high school, is another promising receiver with a whale of an arm.”

But Harry appeared in only one game for the ’44 Birds, and went 0-2 at the plate.  And although his story sounds like that of “Moonlight” Graham, the real-life baseball player popularized in the movie Field of Dreams , Imhoff chose to suspend his playing career in order to serve his country.  Harry, like so many young people of his generation, put his future on hold and joined the Marine Corps.  But, Harry’s baseball dreams would never come to be. In April of 1945 he was killed exiting a landing craft during the Okinawa Campaign.  He was just 18 years old.

This was the story I heard from the gentle voice on my telephone.  The woman wanted me to know about Harry.  She wanted me to know about Earl Springer, too. Earl was an Orioles pitcher from 1940-41, and was killed in Nennig, Germany on January 25, 1945 while serving with the American Eighth Armored Division.  Unlike Harry, Earl enjoyed a couple of years of professional ball, going 6-11 with a 4.39 ERA between Baltimore and Hagerstown.  She wanted me to know because she felt Orioles’ fans should know the sacrifices these men made. 

She wanted me to know because she was Harry’s childhood sweetheart.

Over 340 major leaguers served in the Armed Forces during World War II and as many as 3,000 minor leaguers joined or were drafted.  Nearly 20 former Orioles served, including Harry and Earl.  This weekend people will watch parades, enjoy cookouts, and probably take in a game of baseball.  I’ll do the same.  But I’m going to make time to salute our veterans, especially Harry and Earl.

Shawn Herne is the Chief Curator for the Babe Ruth Birthplace Foundation, Inc.

“Killer” Harmon Killebrew, 1936-2011

Hall of Fame baseball great Harmon Killebrew passed away this week. His quiet, off-field demeanor was in direct contradiction to a menacing, aggressive plate presence that earned him the nickname “Killer.” Killebrew spent 22 seasons in the American League, all but the final year slugging and slashing away at the opposition under the auspices of the Washington Senators and Minnesota Twins. And during that time he did more than a little damage to my home town Baltimore Orioles.

In a 1991 interview, the “Killer” noted how much he loved to play at Baltimore’s Memorial Stadium. He said it was one of his favorite parks to hit in, despite “those darned white houses behind center field, which made seeing the ball difficult for day games, and some of the worst lighting in the league at night.” But hit he did against the orange and black, including the longest home run in the history of Memorial Stadium, a 471 foot blast over the hedge in left center off righty Milt Pappas on May 24, 1964!

But despite his prowess as one of the game’s all-time sluggers (573 homers), and a locker full of VIP credentials and awards, Harmon Killebrew will most likely be better remembered by those who knew him as a regular kind of guy, and as a real gentleman. He came to the Babe Ruth Birthplace twice, once in the early eighties and again to help commemorate the 100^th birthday of Ruth in 1995. On both occasions he seemed more intent on doing what he could to make our jobs as hosts easier than to be acknowledged for his superstar status.

One of the last times I saw “Killer” was at a Babe Ruth symposium at Hofstra University in the spring of 1995. The University had pulled out all the stops to put on a first rate event, and that included inviting in a full roster of Hall-of-Famers, including Killebrew, to talk about Ruth’s impact on the game.

The museum was represented by several staff and board members, and one morning, as we prepared to drive from the hotel to the symposium, Harmon knocked on the driver’s window and said, “Mind if I grab a ride?” Over the next few minutes we talked a little weather, a little politics, and maybe a little Babe Ruth. Just normal, everyday conversation, but with Harmon “Killer” Killebrew, Hall of Fame class of 1984…and one of the true gentlemen of the game.

See you out there,

Mike Gibbons

Mike Gibbons is the executive director for the Babe Ruth Birthplace Foundation, Inc.

Babe Ruth Was More Than a Yankee!

One of the great challenges our institution faces is luring Baltimoreans to the Babe Ruth Birthplace. Ask them why they haven’t visited 216 Emory Street, “just a long fly ball from Camden Yards,” and they respond simply: Babe Ruth was a Yankee! And, indeed, for most baseball fans, local, national and international, Ruth was and remains the iconic pinstripe.

But that should not stop home town visitors from flocking to his Birthplace. Here’s why.

George Herman ‘Babe’ Ruth was born in southwest Baltimore, on the verge dividing Pigtown and Camden Yards, in 1895. He was raised on hardscrabble streets by hardworking parents who were so busy running their family saloon that they were forced to send their son to St. Mary’s Industrial School for a heavy dose of discipline, religion…and baseball.

Babe Ruth’s rags to riches story was emblematic of the turn-of-the-century Baltimore environment from which he sprouted. He was a tough kid from a tough town, but also from a community that cared enough to raise him right and let his extraordinary skills develop.

And keep this in mind. Babe Ruth, the Yankee, was discovered by Jack Dunn, owner and manager of the International League Baltimore Orioles, in 1913. Dunn signed Ruth to his first pro contract in 1914, and agreed to serve as the boy’s legal guardian to boot. That led to the ‘phenom from Pigtown’ being referred to as “Jack Dunn’s Baby” in spring training that year, which, a couple of months later, had shortened to “Babe.”

Please, Baltimore, be proud that the greatest ballplayer of all time and baseball’s greatest star is one of your own, and an Oriole to boot! Without his Baltimore beginnings, there would have been no New York end! Celebrate Babe Ruth, our most famous native son.

Mike Gibbons is the executive director for the Babe Ruth Birthplace Foundation, Inc.

There is Something about Buck.

     What a difference a year makes. This time last year, the Orioles were 1-5. The hope and enthusiasm that came with Opening Day quickly faded into misery and despair. The Orioles were once again bringing up the rear in the American League East. Despite new acquisitions and a relatively impressive roster, thirteen years of losing was not going to change.

     Fast forward to Tuesday, August 3, 2010. The team limped along with a 32-73 record. Dave Trembley was long gone as Orioles’ Manager and Interim Manager Juan Samuel was being sent back to coaching third base. The small crowds that still turned out to Camden Yards were either the last of the diehard fans or the out-of-towners that called the ballpark “Fenway South” or “the House that Jeter Built.” But something was different this warm August night…there was a new face in the dugout…and a new sense that maybe…just maybe…things were going to change. The boss had finally arrived.

     Baltimore loves Buck. In the short nine months since his arrival, the face of the Orioles’ organization has changed. It’s not the faces we’ve come to love that we see. It’s not the new faces coming up from the minors. It is not even those of Derek Lee or Vladimir Guerrero, the Orioles’ biggest off-season acquisitions.  It is the 54-year-old, no-nonsense Floridian that has a reputation for building playoff contending teams that has captured our attention.

     Yes, we love Buck. We love the billboards along I-395; we love his TV ads explaining how he handles a young pitcher; we love the way he leans on the dugout fence watching the game with those piercing eyes; and we especially love the way he reminds us of Earl Weaver. Yes, we love that. We even love the gigantic banner hanging from the side of the Warehouse asking us, “Are You Ready?”  We’re buying Buck t-shirts and even wearing foam antlers to the games. But why?

     The answer is simple. Baltimore loves the guy that delivers what he promises, doesn’t make excuses, and goes out and does his job. We love the guy with confidence.  That’s why we loved Johnny Unitas, Earl Weaver and Davey Johnson. Why we’re so fond of John Harbaugh and why we’re crazy for Ray Lewis.  Baltimore loves a hard worker with a little swagger.

     But this fascination with Buck is even a little more. In his book, The Colts’ Baltimore, Michael Olesker reminds us of a time when Baltimore was in the shadow of the major cities along the East Coast. “A municipal inferiority complex” he called it…”New York nightlife meant Rogers and Hammerstein on Broadway, and Baltimore’s meant strippers on the Block.”  There was New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Washington…and this little blue-collar Baltimore. We were, “just a town on the way to another town.” The Colts’ triumph over the New York Giants in the 1958 NFL Championship game changed that. It was the story of David over Goliath. It was the story of hardworking men that got the job done. Unitas and the Colts gave us a reason to be proud and they gave us a little swagger…at least for a time.

     The past fourteen years have not been easy for Orioles’ fans. In that time New York, Boston and Philadelphia have all won Championships…seven in fact. Buck hasn’t given us a Championship. He hasn’t even given us a winning season. But Buck has given Baltimore a reason to hold our heads up. He is one of us…just as much as if he’d grown up on the streets of Highlandtown, Glen Burnie, or south Baltimore. He’s proof that the right manager can make a difference…that the Orioles can compete in the A.L. East. He’s given us a reason to be proud and a reason to return to the Yard. Let’s hope this love affair continues!

Shawn Herne is the Chief Curator for the Babe Ruth Birthplace Foundation, Inc

The Joy of Opening Day

     In April 1954, four days removed from my seventh birthday, my father gave me maybe the best present I ever got, a ticket to the Baltimore Orioles’ very first home opener. That April 15 made enough of an impression on me, what with the green grass, huge crowd, and victorious final score, that I begged and pleaded for him to take me out to the old ball game each and every home opener until I went away to college. In fact, I’ve been to every Orioles’ home opener, except for the four years from 1970-73 when I was in the Navy.

     Now, 57 years later, as we anticipate with great excitement the start of another Orioles’ season, opening day remains one of the special days of the year; kind of like Christmas in springtime, and certainly the best sporting event by far.

     The reasons why baseball’s inaugural reigns supreme are too numerous and complex for this accounting, but here are three…

First - the start of the baseball season coincides with the close of winter. After months of crunching and sliding our way over brown, frozen tundra, we get to embrace the perfectly manicured, freshly cut green grass of Oriole Park.

Second - there’s the eager anticipation of the very special pre-game festivities: player introductions, the national anthem, and the umpire shouting, “Play Ball.”

Third - it’s a new beginning for our Birds and their fans. Everything is equal and even, at least for that one day; the advent of a championship season floating wonderfully in the dreams and hopes of those assembled.

     So for me, and certainly for many others, the day is made even more special because it is shared with friends and family…with my wife and my son, whose presence in that lower-reserve seat next to mine reminds me of that long ago April, 57 years past, when my father introduced me to the greatest tradition any fan could ever embrace.

Mike Gibbons is the executive director for the Babe Ruth Birthplace Foundation, Inc.