Everyone's Hero: The Unofficial Novelization

Chapter 8

The first of October came as quick as a flash. It was on the morning of that fateful Game 3 that Yankee joined Mr. Wrigley and his family for breakfast in the dining room. He had spent a good deal of the past day getting to know more about the Cubs and the Wrigley's family history. Deedie and Blanny got along well with Yankee despite their differences in gender and Blanny thought he would be a good catch for him as soon as he got older. Yankee, who wasn't used to hanging around wealthy kids, was uncomfortable with the suggestion. Ada and Dorothy told Yankee some interesting tidbits about their father and husband, but what did Yankee care? He was more interested in getting Darlin' back to Babe as quick as possible, but he knew better than to disobey Phillip's promise. And so he remained polite as ever, telling the Wrigleys how he figured out that Warneke and Taylor stole the bat and the full story of how he managed to get to Chicago. Everyone around him was interested by his tale, but a few skeptics assured them that it would only fill three quarters of a newspaper column.

At about nine o'clock, Wrigley told Yankee that the time had come, and they left the hotel in his car with Darlin' and Screwy in Yankee's backpack stashed in the trunk. The temperature was starting to warm around this time and they drove for over ten minutes alongside the river. With them were Bob Elson, William Veeck Sr. and Helen Wrigley. Behind them, in another car, were Ada and Dorothy carrying Phillip's daughters on their laps, Bill Veeck and Blanche and Bert Atwater.

Eventually, both cars pulled up at the entrance of Wrigley Field. At least five to fifty thousand fans of the Cubs were there trying to get inside, so when they recognized Wrigley's car, they stood back to make way for the man whom they had hoped would give the Cubs a last-minute miracle for all the losses that they had suffered. Wrigley waved his right hand up, coupled by a bright smile for everyone to see as the fans cheered and whistled. Like any gentleman would in his place, Mr. Wrigley opened the door for the missus and she stepped gracefully out of the car, followed by Veeck and Elson. Yankee was the last to leave the car, but the crowd's reaction to his appearance brought nothing but questions: who was this kid?

The party of elites walked into the stadium with even more cheers from the throngs of people who were on their way to take their seats. Up the flights of stairs they climbed, going higher and higher like the gods of higher class that they were, reaching the owner's box.

The owner's box was large, with a wall that was devoted to the history of the Chicago Cubs, all the way back to it's origins. From Yankee's perspective, it was quite luxurious compared to the rest of the field. He sat down at a table and ordered a hot dog from a waiter as the crowds of people waited for the game to begin.

It was approximately between 7:05 and 7:10 a.m. when the players showed up on the field. Yankee looked around the windows, but from his vantage point, they were nothing small dots of tan, blue and white. Somewhere in the stadium was Franklin Delano Roosevelt and his son James. Along with them were some cabinet members and journalists from The Washington Post.

Charlie Root stood on the plate. It was 4-4 on the fifth inning. He threw a ball to Ruth and the result was a miss. Strike one. Yankee could hear the Cubs fans heckling Ruth from behind the muffled glass windows and his anger started to rise along with his legs.

"Maybe I should give Darlin' back."

He was just ready to leave and give the others a piece of his mind when Wrigley's voice stopped him.

"Wait and see what he does."

Yankee returned to his seat and tried his best to control the fervent rage that had almost reached the boiling point.

Then he noticed something else, something interesting and provocative, that it would soon become a milestone in the history of baseball that would leave many spectators with bewildered heads.

Ruth held up his right hand, pointing a directive index finger at Root. Some say it was the Cubs dugout. Others said it was the outer field.

Root threw another curveball and Ruth missed. Strike two. Yankee imagined Darlin and Screwy cheering the Babe on with loud cries of "Don't give up!"...but all he had for himself was a prayer.

The angels of fate had instantly responded to his pleas when Root threw the next ball. What happened next, was the most majestic shot that anyone had ever seen. It was a perfect, pretty shot. The ball flew right into the stands. Everyone gasped in awe and Tom Manning of CBS described the shot as magically as he could describe it.

"The ball is going, going, going, high into the center-field stands, into the scoreboard...and it's a home run!"

The rest of the game continued with all of the positive results that Yankee expected, with Babe and others stealing second, third and fourth bases. And to make a long story short the New York Yankees won the series.

As the Yankees cheered and Wrigley sat shaking his head in disbelief (some say his hair turned Grey at that moment), Yankee smiled and thought to himself.

"Maybe Babe doesn't need a bat after all. He's got the heart for it."