Everyone's Hero: The Unofficial Novelization

Chapter 2

Phillip K. Wrigley.

His middle name was Knight, after the gallant warriors in armor from the medieval and renaissance times. He was 37 in 1932, a quiet son compared to the charming, flamboyant chewing gum magnate that was his father William, who was also the current owner of the Chicago Cubs, president of the Wm Wrigley Jr. Company and the Wrigley Botanical Gardens on Catalina Island. He loved horses, he loved boating and he had sacrificed his plans to attend Yale to work in his father's business by the age of 20. During the Great War in 1917, he began work as a machinist's mate based at the Great Lakes Naval Training Station and by the time he was discharged in 1921, he achieved the rank of lieutenant junior grade. He married the daughter of Albert Leonard "Bert" Atwater, vice president of the Wrigley Company's New York office. The daughter, whose name was Helen, was a graduate of St. Mary's School in Garden City and she met Phillip in 1918 while on vacation in Lake Geneva. From 1923 to 1926, Helen produced two daughters, Blanny and Deedie, named after Phillip's mother and sister. After his father built the Wrigley Mansion in 1931 somewhere outside of Phoenix, Arizona, he fell gravely ill. William Wrigley Jr. was 70 years old and when the father reaches such an age, it is the son who will step up to continue his father's duties.

On January 26th, 1932, Phillip went to see his father, lying on his deathbed with his daughter Dorothy and wife Ada comforting him. But even though he was glad to have his closest relatives by his side, the one person he was looking forward to speaking with the most, was his only son.

"Phil, are you ready to take my place?"

"Yes, father. My position as head of the company and ownership of the Clubs will be secured in due time."

"Make sure they win for me this year. Let them know that William Wrigley was a man of legend. And whatever you do, don't sell the Cubs. They need a happy ending."

A long measure of minutes passed with even more goodbyes and William Wrigley Jr., a corporate legend and a captain of industry, laid his last breath.

Phillip had little time to mourn for his father, even as he was buried at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California. The wake promised nothing but further delays; he had to secure his father's place effective immediately. When the courts finally acknowledged Phillip's ownership of his father's assets, he snapped into action. Under his management, the Wrigley Company's annual sales would increase to $23 million. He was already friends with almost everybody in the Chicago Cubs from its team players to its business associates.

The first meeting he held with the board took place on February 3rd, before team manager Rogers Hornsby and his soon to be predecessor Charlie Grimm, Cubs president William Veeck, Bob Elson of WGN and Red Corriden, the team coach.

Hornsby was the first to ask.

"Do you think we'll be able to beat the Yankees this year?"

But any reply to his question was a delayed one, since Phillip was busy unwrapping the PK brand chewing gum that his father named after him. After throwing the gum into his mouth, he replied as he chewed.

"Last year, the Cardinals beat the Athletics by 4-3. Wanna know why?"

Everyone's response was total silence. The only sound that could be heard, however, was Wrigley chewing his jaws off.

"Because they didn't have Babe Ruth. Everywhere I turn I hear talk of Babe Ruth on shirts, cups, books...hell, I heard he's even making two-reelers over in Hollywood."

He paused before adding.

"That reminds me, I should call L. B. Mayer and see if he'd be interested in a contract."

"With Ruth?" came the innocent question of Bob Elson.

"With one of my team players," said the disgruntled Wrigley. "Most of the newspapers and newsreels are talking about Babe Ruth and I say it's time the public turned to someone else for change. Someone who gives us a clear shot at winning the World Series this year. Ruth has a World Series trophy and I will stop at nothing to get one with my father's name on it!"

"Posthumously or just his last name?" asked Veeck.

"The family name," said Wrigley who was proud to carry it like it was royalty. "And no screw ups, make sure the team trains extra hard."

"Not to worry, Mr. Wrigley," said Corriden with determination in his voice. "We'll win that trophy for you or die trying. In fact, I've got Taylor working a new pitch."

"What's it called?"

"The Bonus Ball, it'll make up for all the pitches he's failed at."

"I've seem him play," said Hornsby. "Zack Taylor's a better catcher than a hitter."

"But he has been training that Lon Warneke guy," Grimm added to the defense. "Maybe Lon'll be a better pitcher than he is."

But Wrigley had this to say:

"Well, better or not, even the most outrageous cheating from anyone on the team is no match for Babe Ruth."

But his words unfortunately gave Grimm an idea...a very sinister idea.

Grimm spoke with the Cubbies later that night in their room at the Hotel Carlos.

"I have an idea that might sound controversial, but when we play against the Yankees in September, I want one of you..."

He paused as though he were confessing a sin.

"...to steal Babe Ruth's bat."

A row of gasps and murmurs rose from the team of thirty five Cubbies, but Vince Barton, who played in the outfield, was doubtful.

"So what? He'll just get another one."

"His bat is a lucky charm, or so the press calls it."

Infielder Billy Herman scoffed.

"The press will say anything to pump out a good story. In their heads, headlines that say the Babe's bat is a lucky charm means more papers and more papers mean more money."

"Still," said Grimm in a stern voice. "I would like one of you to steal it and see if what the press says is true. Because without that bat, Babe is just big and fat."

"Now there's a headline you can write," laughed Zack Taylor the pitcher.

The others laughed with him, but that was what attracted Grimm into making Taylor his own personal selection.

"Exactly, Taylor. That's why I'm having you do the job for me."

Taylor was stunned.

"Me? Sir, I know Mr. Wrigley wants us to win, but...stealing a bat just so we can cream the Yankees? That's not playing fair."

"Whoever said we would be playing fair?" snickered Grimm. "It's either steal the bat, or you're out."

As a sign of making his pact with the devil, Zack Taylor sheepishly nodded his head "yes".