George Ruth today - poem - Babe Ruth's 100th anniversary special section

Fit and hungry, Young lefty in the 90s. Dumb but wise and Blessed with an arm. Too risky to draft, Too good to ignore.

George Ruth today.

A curious signing; A Yankee scout's whim. The name is George Just George. Never heard of him But they say you will.

Ascension swift Past Brien Taylor. George the Boss likes George the Kid His babe. Thrown into the rotation.

Toying in B.P., a called shot. Effortless, the short porch; An easy reach. Just pitch for the pay And put the bat down For good. The D.H. world.

George Ruth today.

A head case, they say, A disruptive influence. Wants to hit the ball, the town, "Hot-dog" signing autographs, Trying to feed The New York media.

Body fat rising and Bat-handle legs. "George, meet Mackie, Your fitness guru." Stairmaster, your bane, Sneaking whiskey and women.

George Ruth today.

Reconfigure the rotation; George is out. Personal reasons. Off to Smithers, the year gone, Still they want, desperate, A lefty in the 90s.

Strike. Agent says to wait -- they'll call, For your habit cries. Unrelenting the press, the callers The alimony, the life, But always the pen answers a boy's request. Free agency and rebirth in St. Louis. 20 wins and off to Cooperstown But only for the Hall of Fame Game. "Dr. Jobe, the elbow burns." Middle reliever winding down Down, down.

Pay cut is coming, Numb the elbow, numb the mind; "It's OK _ the president had a better year." Forever wont to sign the sweet spot But no boys pushing no balls. A lonely man quits, a lonely end.

George Ruth today, Quantum-leaping into The Surreal, The Sensational, Swallowed up by ESPN Spit out on QVC.

COPYRIGHT 1995 Sporting News Publishing Co.
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