Yankees Press Conference, December 1919

This idea is owed completely to Joe Formerly of Brooklyn's post earlier, wondering what might have happened if the Yanks had applied their current perspective to signing Babe Ruth...Guaranteed, all historical references are accurate.

"Good morning, gentlemen of the press.  I am Col. Tillinghast L'Hommedieu Huston, the co-ower of the New York Yankees, and I called you here to the Polo Grounds today to discuss some questions we've been getting about our intended off-season moves.  Yes, you there, from the Telegram."

"Is your first name really Tillinghast?"

"Yes, it is.  Can we have a real question, please?"

"Is your middle name really L'Hommedieu?"

"Yes.  Gentlemen, please!  For the sake of brevity and pronunciation, just call me by my nickname, 'Cap.' Yes, the Herald?"

"Cap, do the Yankees have any intention of signing Babe Ruth, now that Harry Frazee has made it clear he's up for sale to the highest bidder?"

"Gentlemen, I can't say anything definitive.   But why should we go after Ruth?"

"Um, because he's the best hitter in the game?"

"What do we need from hitters?  Why, you gentlemen have already dubbed our lineup, 'Murderers' Row.'  And let me say, this year we will be introducing a whole new line of Bobblehead Doll Murderers, beginning with Wally Pipp and Home Run Baker, who clouted ten of—what is it you call them?—roundtrippers!"

"Yeah, the Babe hit 29."

"But the Yankees led the American League in homers, with 45!  That's the old team effort!  And what would we gain from adding to what is already our strength?"

"Ruth can pitch.  He went 9-5 last season, with a 2.97 ERA."

"We have pitchers—"

"And he can play the outfield."

"Gentlemen!  Why, we have six outfielders already!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!  I mean, of course!  Duffy Lewis, Ping Bodie, and Sammy Vick, who is just 24 but hit .248.  And then there's Al Wickland and Bill Lamar, and Frank Gleich.  Seven, if you count that promising young George Halas, though I'm under the impression he may stay in Decatur to run a football team."

"Uh-huh.  Isn't it true that half the Boston team is up for sale?"

"Yes, I've heard that.  But why would we want what they're selling?"

"Because they've won four World Series since 1912?"

"And are now full of beat-up old veterans!  I mean, the Red Sox finished sixth last year!  We came in third, 21 whole games over .500.  Besides, who could we get from the Red Sox?"

"Wally Schang."

"Everett Scott."

"Waite Hoyt.  Herb Pennock.  Sad Sam Jones.  Bullet Joe Bush—"

"But that last bunch are all pitchers!  We don't need more pitchers.  We have Sailor Bob Shawkey.  And anyway, we traded with the Red Sox for a pitcher last season, Ernie Shore.  He didn't fare very well."

"Didn't you also get Carl Mays in that deal?  Didn't he have a 1.65 ERA for you?"

"Next question!"

"What about Babe Ruth?"

"Why this obsession about this overgrown manchild?  Look, you've read all the stories, same as I have.  This Ruth is a constant carouser.  Drink and eats like a glutton, chases women all over town—"

"The Babe's best ballpark in the league is your Polo Grounds!  He would give you a great left-handed bat, hits 'em out to right like nobody's business!"

"That's neither here nor there!  You remember when he got so mad at that umpire he knocked him out?  Over a ball-and-strike call!  Or how, on his way to Chicago for the Series in 1918 he went down the aisle in the train, drunkenly smashing everyone's straw hat?  Is that setting a good example for the younger players?"

"Didn't he throw a 1-0 shutout at Wrigley?  Then set the World Series scoreless inning record back in Boston?"

"Yes, but that's no indication of his future behavior!  Look, we're a young team—"

"No, you're not.  You're over 28 years old on average.  Ruth won't be 25 until February."

"Thank you, Mr. Sabremetrician!  As I was saying, we are a young team, and we will continue to build from our farm system—"

"You don't have a farm system.  They haven't been invented yet."

"All right, then.  We will continue to build as we always have, hoping some fresh, freckled-face kid—a white kid, of course—will present himself at our door someday, with a sprig of grass in his teeth and a bat named 'Wonderboy' in his rucksack, and ask if he can have a tryout."

"Swell.  What about the rumors concerning a new stadium?"

"We are perfectly content to stay here in the Polo Grounds!  The Giants have been very reasonable about rent, and we see no reason to go to all the expense and uncertainty of building a new park.  It's the same risk involved in signing some big stars to the payroll.  Why would we do such a thing?"

"One more question: isn't 'Cap' a boy's name?"

"I thought I made it clear—"

"Don't they really call you 'The Man in the Iron Hat'?"

"Well?  What of it?"

"You sure it isn't 'Head'?  The Man with the Iron Head?"

"This press conference is over!  Please enjoy the spread of bucketshop beer and boiled eggs our Legends-in-the-Making Hospitality staff has prepared for you.  And remember, just dunk the eggs in the finger bowls first to get rid of the rat feces."