Babe Ruth: A Man of Simple Faith

In matters of Faith, only The Lord can read one’s heart, soul, and mind.

However, very often we can get “some sense” of people by their actions. If the person is no longer with us but was a man (as in this case) of renown, we can read what he wrote, listen to what he said, and follow his life’s journey from numerous historical sources.

I was born in 1948, the very year Babe Ruth died. I was exactly 3½ months old when the Lord called the Bambino Home.

A few years later, I discovered baseball … and like many of us, I was obsessed by the game. At about the age of 7 or so, I began hearing about Babe Ruth. … There seemed to be something magical about that name. For some reason it seemed to fit him perfectly.

Babe Ruth … every now and then, in the mid-1950s, his picture would appear in the New York Daily News. There was usually a welcoming smile on his face, and I could sense that his huge torso housed a sentimental and loving heart.

In addition, every now and then, again in the mid-1950s, a black-and-white film clip of a Ruthian home run would be shown on television. There was something graceful about the swing; and the batted ball seemed to trace out a majestic arc. And those Yankee Pinstripes! And that perfect Number Three! The Sultan of Swat was larger than life. …

When I asked my dad to tell me about Babe Ruth, he told me that he once actually met Ruth – in a freight elevator, of all places. My father was impressed by his massive size, especially his height.

I just had to learn more about Babe Ruth. Thus, the odyssey began…

My first real contact with Ruth came in 1958. I was watching him on TV one night with my father. Actually, it was William Bendix playing Babe Ruth. I remember this Babe Ruth taking an injured dog to a hospital, insisting that the doctors and nurses tend to the dog, even though he was told that the hospital was not where pets could be treated. I also remember a gritty, grimy Sultan of Swat hitting three home runs in his (as it was portrayed) last game, as a member of the Boston Braves, looking so out of place without Yankee pinstripes. Finally, I remember the dying Bambino being wheeled on a gurney, to bravely undergo some experimental medical procedure. I did not want to cry in front of my father, but I knew that the Babe was to die shortly.

That very night, after the movie ended, I decided that I would read everything possible about the Maharajah of Mash. I would try to absorb everything I could learn about this man … not just the baseball statistics (math was my favorite subject), but about the person, as well.

A year or two later, I met the Babe’s widow. Actually, Edward R. Murrow was interviewing her on the TV show “Person to Person.” Claire Ruth showed pictures of her deceased husband while telling stories about him and their relationship. And I got to know more about this great man. Mrs. Ruth also told the viewers that they could obtain Ruth’s autograph on canceled checks, if they would merely send a request to her. To this day, I still do not know why I never took advantage of her kind offer.

Soon after, I read The Babe’s autobiography, which he wrote with the assistance of syndicated columnist Bob Considine.1 The book was published right around the time of Ruth’s death and contained dozens of pictures. Although as a young boy I didn’t quite understand what “as told to Bob Considine” meant, as I read the book I felt that Ruth’s words were directed toward me.

After that, it was “off to the races,” as far as Babe Ruth was concerned.

I am now (in 2018) 70 years old, and I am still learning about the Sultan of Swat.

I have been very fortunate regarding the Big Bam. Over the years, I met his sister (Mamie), his daughters (Dorothy and Julia), and his granddaughter (Linda). I have been able to discuss Ruth with the likes of former Yankee third baseman and past president of the American League Dr. Bobby Brown, Award-winning cartoonist and journalist Bill Gallo, Hall of Famer Yogi Berra, former major leaguer Rico Brogna, and baseball historian Bill Jenkinson.

There is one simple, short conversation, though, that stands out. It was with a kind gentleman named Raymond Kelly. In 1995 Hofstra University held a four-day commemoration in honor of Babe Ruth’s 100th birthday. Ray Kelly, Babe’s famed mascot during the Murderers’ Row days, was one of the keynote speakers. After Kelly’s presentation, I was able to speak privately with Ray and, after having identified myself as a priest, asked him the following question: “Mr. Kelly, was Babe Ruth a good Catholic?” Kelly’s answer, as he teared up was, “Yes, Father, he was a good Catholic.”

I took the alacrity of his response to be an imprimatur.

Babe Ruth’s Catholic upbringing has been well documented. Brother Matthias, C.F.X, a member of a congregation under the patronage of St. Francis Xavier, was assigned to St. Mary’s Industrial School in Baltimore, Maryland. The charismatic brother, along with his confreres, provided a moral and religious foundation for Ruth; a basis which would seem to be nearly eclipsed many times in future years, but, in essence, would never, ever be totally eradicated.

For the rest of his life, Ruth he knew he always had a spiritual Home Base at St. Mary’s in Baltimore, which, of course, was part of the Universal Catholic Church.

As to Brother Matthias’s influence on the future baseball superstar, it is sufficient to recall Ruth’s own words about the strapping Xavierian, as recorded in the Babe’s autobiography: “It was at St. Mary’s that I met and learned to love the greatest man I have ever known. His name was Matthias. …”2

(As an interesting aside, there is a tale, not often told, that the Babe actually thought of becoming a Catholic priest. It seems that Brother Matthias, acting as his spiritual director, discerned that Ruth was probably not called to sacred orders. The very image of “Father George Herman Ruth” conjures up many pastoral scenarios, and with God’s grace and man’s cooperation, all things are possible.)

On this very point, those of us who belong to the Catholic faith strive to live according to a creed which is rooted in certain theological beliefs; two of which are Sin and Conversion. These designations or categories are intimately connected and are not meant to trivialize the former (“We’re all sinners …”) or rationalize the latter (“We all need God’s help …”). No, the effects of Original Sin are certainly present, and we struggle on our pilgrimage to try to live a Christian life.

Only God know the depths of our culpability. Some of the greatest saints have struggled with the flesh.

“O Lord, grant me chastity and continence, but not yet.” – St. Augustine

Did The Babe ever resist anything? Only God knows. But Ruth certainly seemed to enjoy the pleasures of life in the 1920s … and then some. As Paul Gallico wrote of Ruth in 1927, “Part of his charm lies in the manner with which he succumbs to every temptation which comes his way.”3

Yet it would be unfair to concentrate only on Ruth’s slavery to the senses. For it has been equally recognized how generous Ruth was with his money and time, especially where poor kids were concerned. The Colossus of Crash himself wrote that he always felt cleaner after a visit with children.

To be sure, Ruth made a lot of money. He spent it on himself and on his friends. He was a focal point of the Roaring Twenties for many people. He enjoyed the fruits of his labors. He worked hard; he played hard.

“He who abhors pleasures is both boorish and ungracious.” – St. Thomas Aquinas

I do not know if Babe Ruth attended Mass every Sunday. I hope he did … at least every now and then. Perhaps most times, he did not. However, even regarding this most solemn of rites, there is a delightful tale involving, as is decreed on his Hall of Fame plaque, Baseball’s Greatest Drawing Card.

It seems that the Yankees were on a road trip and Ruth arrived at the hotel early one Sunday morning, presumably after a night of carousing. He made sure all the Yankees who were Catholic were roused out of their beds to accompany him to an early Mass. During the sacred liturgy, as the collection basket was passed around, the Babe put in a $50 bill. When Tony Lazzeri realized what Ruth had done, he said – non sotto voce – “What are you doing Babe, paying for last night’s sins?”

I don’t know if this story is apocryphal, but it seems that both the Babe and Poosh ’em Up Tony were capable of such actions and words. …

As Ruth aged, he mellowed and gradually slowed down. The 13 years between his retirement from baseball and his death were increasingly disappointing and painful. It was clear that major-league baseball – and especially the Yankees – had no place for the retired Sultan of Swat. For whatever reasons, he was never really considered for a managerial position. His uniform number, 3, was not retired by the Yankees until two months before his death. It was quite a comedown for someone who arguably possessed, at one time, the most recognizable face in the country, if not the planet.

Yes, these were most difficult times for the former King of Clout.

But all was not lost. Ruth had an outlet in the game of golf, which allowed him to compete athletically and vent frustrations. He said that without golf, he would have blown up to 300 pounds, in addition to the fear that he would have gone out of his mind.

And he was not alone … nor would he ever really despair. In addition to his family and friends, Ruth believed that the Church was there for him. And, as he grew older, it became clearer and clearer, that the Church would always be there for him.

Babe Ruth’s respect for – and reliance upon – the clergy was profound. For example, on many occasions Ruth met with the sainted founder of Boys Town, Father Edward J. Flanagan. One instance was when Ruth, along with Lou Gehrig, visited the Omaha, Nebraska, institution in 1927, while on an extended barnstorming tour.4 The existence of such a place, led by such a cleric, struck a resonant chord with Ruth, who was, in every sense, a benefactor of this great establishment.

The Rev. Edward J. Quinn, O.S.A., an Augustinian priest, was a friend, adviser and counselor to Ruth on several occasions. Father Quinn was particularly helpful when Ruth and his first wife, Helen, were going through very difficult times. Because of his religious beliefs, the Babe refused to seek a divorce, because the Church did not permit it. (The penalty of excommunication which was in effect in Ruth’s time was lifted by Pope Paul VI).

The priests and parishioners of St. Angela Merici in the Bronx benefited from Babe’s and Claire’s generosity. A plaque in that church commemorates the Ruths’ financial support for a new Altar of Sacrifice.

Soon after the end of World War II, Ruth began experiencing a number of physical discomforts, including a raspiness in his throat, severe headaches, and dental problems. Over the next two years, his condition worsened.

During these last two years, the Babe never lost his faith. In fact, it is difficult to imagine that his religious beliefs did not deepen or come more and more to the forefront. In his autobiography, Ruth wrote: “I had drifted away from the Church during my harum-scarum early years in the majors. I’d go to Mass now and then and, believe me, I never missed a night without saying my prayers. But I wasn’t the Catholic I had been at St. Mary’s, especially after Brother Matthias died about the time my baseball career was ending.”5

As the end was drawing near, surgery was recommended, pretty much as a last-ditch effort to extend The Babe’s life. After going to Confession, Ruth received the Body of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. He added in his book: “Holy Communion gave me additional heart to face a very delicate operation.”6

On August 16, 1948, the Rev. Thomas Kaufman, O.P., a Dominican priest, was with Ruth during his final moments. “Father Kaufman told a flock of boys waiting beneath Ruth’s window that it was a beautiful death.”7 A statue of the Dominican St. Martin de Porres was at his hospital bedside table. St. Martin is the patron saint of the Knights of Columbus, an organization Ruth joined in 1916, when he played with the Boston Red Sox.

Ruth was intuitively aware that the sacraments, which include the Last Rites, are the greatest treasures of the Church. These sources of grace gave The Bambino peace as he entered eternity.

In the final analysis, during the truncated, 53 years that were allotted to him Babe Ruth lived life to the full.

“I came that they might have life and have it more abundantly.” – John 10:10

Babe Ruth was waked in Yankee Stadium, the House That Ruth Built. Thousands of grievers passed by his bier, to view the deceased Bambino. Those mighty hands, which gripped many a baseball bat, now held a rosary.

His funeral at St. Patrick’s Cathedral on the 19th of August was one of the most attended requiems ever witnessed at that ecclesial edifice. There were approximately four dozen members of the clergy present for the celebration of a man who died as he lived: with the simple faith of a child.

And among the mourners who lined the rainy Manhattan streets, were legions of children. After the Mass, boys and girls watched a hearse carry off the remains of the Greatest of All Baseball Players to Gate of Heaven Cemetery in Hawthorne, New York.

Ruth’s graveside memorial stands several feet above the ground. Fittingly, on the monument, there is an image of Jesus Christ, with His left arm on the shoulder of a boy.

“Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” – Matthew 18:3

What was Babe Ruth like? He was spontaneous, impetuous, warm, manly, generous, hedonistic, and indomitable. He could laugh and cry at the drop of a hat, so close to the surface were his emotions. He would give you the shirt off his back. He was the greatest hitter ever. He was the most famous athlete of all time. He loved his country. He loved his Church. He loved kids. The man who called everyone “Kid!” was the ultimate kid. He left an unparalleled legacy. He was real. He was genuine. He gave all he had.

In the depths of his being, even deeper than whatever imperfections he had, Babe Ruth was a giving individual, blessed with a heart of gold.

“Charity covers a multitude of sins.” – I Peter 4:8

Father GABRIEL B. COSTA is a Catholic priest on an extended academic leave from Seton Hall University. He is currently a Mathematics professor at the United States Military Academy, where he also functions as a chaplain.

PRAYER FOR BABE RUTH
MEMORIAL MASS
AUGUST 16, 2009

Loving Father, over sixty years ago today, you called George, your son and servant, to his eternal reward. As with all your creatures, you blessed him with special talents. We thank you for the gift of George, who is known throughout the world as Babe Ruth. He excelled on the baseball diamond with unparalleled prowess and brought joy to millions of people. He was especially loved by children, a love which was reciprocated throughout his life.

Father, we pray that Babe Ruth’s example of fair play and athletic courage may inspire generations of professional athletes and the young people who look up to them.

We make this prayer through our Lord Jesus Christ, Who lives and reigns with You in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God forever and ever. Amen. – Father Gabriel B. Costa

(This prayer was requested by Mrs. Linda Ruth Tosetti, Babe Ruth’s granddaughter. It appeared on a commemorative card for a Mass celebrating the 61st anniversary of Ruth’s death. The Liturgy took place at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, in Baltimore, Maryland.)