The Babe Is Matched, but Not Surpassed

 

So in the head, the lunkheads who run the greatest game ever invented would not let us have our fun, and give Aaron Judge a chance to break Babe Ruth's Real Original, Single (154-Game) Season, Non-Cheating Home Run Record. 

What else could we expect? After all, baseball is now officially the No-Fun Sport, with many highly knowledgeable sports commentators scratching their heads night after night, and wondering, "Why would anyone pitch to Judge?"

Umm, because it would be fun? And right there, you see the dilemma. Give the fans fun on one trip to the park, and next thing you know they will be demanding it every night. 

But I digress. What Judge's tying of the Babe highlights, once again, what an amazing record he (still) holds. "Let's see some son-of-a-bitch top that!" he exulted in 1927, having hit 60 home runs at the age of 32, and here we are, 95 years later, and no son-of-a-bitch or even a class act like Aaron Judge has ever quite done it. 

What other sports records are 95 years old? None, that I can think of. The closest that comes to mind is Paul Hornung's Famous Original, 12-game scoring record of 176 points in the NFL, set in 1960. 

The Babe's is even older. Is it really so amazing? Well, records only tell us so much. To a great extent, they are products of their time, and somebody is always disparaging one or another of them for some reason. 

Comparisons may be odious—but let's indulge, and take a look at the relative advantages that Babe Ruth and Aaron Judge have enjoyed:

The Babe:

—Never had to take a plane ride across one time zone, never mind three.

—Played games that counted against all-white players (as far as we know), drawn from a much smaller pool of talent, in a country with about one-third the population it has now. (Though he hit .455 in games against teams of top Black ballplayers.)

—Played all of his games under natural light.

—Played in an era when relief pitchers were few and far between, and usually the youngest, oldest, or least reliable pitchers on the team. Frequently got to hit against starters four or five times in the same game.

—Faced very few pitchers who threw as hard as they routinely do today.

—Played for great Yankees teams including, in 1927, one that many feel was the greatest of all, scoring 975 runs—instead of the 2022 Hitless Wonders.

—Never had to play for Aaron Boone, giving him "an extra day of rest" whenever the team had an off-day.

—No idiot ever considered making him lead off.

—Played in an ear when umpires generally understood and could see the strike zone.

—Never had to hit with Giancarlo Stanton, Gleyber Torres, or Josh Donalson behind him.

—Played much of his career—and all of 1927—hitting ahead of Lou Gehrig.

The Judge:

—Never had to make 27-hour Pullman trips, routine in Ruth's day.

—Played games against a much wider and more diverse talent pool than Ruth ever did, drawn from a much larger America and from all around the world—but spread across 30 major-league teams instead of 16, and thinned in many instances by other pro sports that did not exist in 1927—or even by honest work.

—Played in parks with fences that were on average 28 feet closer to home plate than they were in Ruth's day.

—Never played under the constantly changeable ground rules of Ruth's day, where balls hit into overflow Sunday crowds might not count as homers, or where umpires could rule that balls that left the park fair...might have landed foul, and not count them as home runs.

—Played against so many relief pitchers that he was more likely to face one that just didn't have it that day.

—Played against pitchers who generally throw harder but do not have the variety of pitches—or ways of doctoring baseballs—that pitchers of Ruth's era did.

—Is encouraged to swing for the fences on every at-bat.

—Uses a whip-handled, 33-ounce bat, of which he has a small forest in reserve, like all players today. (Ruth at his peak used a 54-ounce bat nicknamed "The Monstrous Weapon" by opponents, the largest bat ever known.  At other times in his career, especially as he aged, he used bats as light as 38 ounces, but routinely 47-48 ounces.)

—Enjoys the refreshing wonders of modern air-conditioning and double-knit, polyester uniforms. (Ruth wore the standard, heavy woolen uniform produced by National Itch Manufacturers—all right, I'm making that up—and for relief in the summer, place a cabbage leaf under his hat. No, I did not make that up.)

—Does not have to play cow-town exhibition games on his every off-day, in which he is also expected to pitch, lead the local band, and be mobbed by several thousand children.

—Enjoys the benefits of modern coaching and training—even if it is the Yankees'—as opposed to Ruth, who was forbidden by contract to work out or even play golf in the off-season, during much of his Yankee career.

—Never felt the urge to eat five or six hot dogs during a game, or to rent out entire whorehouses afterwards (as far as we know!).

—Plays in games so extended and dull that pitchers sometimes fall into fugue states, and forget who they are throwing to.

I'm sure there are more I've overlooked, and I'd love to read them. 

For the record, Bill Jenkinson, Ruth's almost manic chronicler, estimates that he would have hit 86 home runs in 1920 playing with today's park dimensions; 91 in 1927, and a ridiculous 104 in 1921.

Would he have? Impossible to know. And in any case, I think we can pay tribute today to both men.