The Selling of the Babe (29 page)

A Ruth deal offered both men a path out. As they batted ideas back and forth, a plan began to take shape that could solve all problems—those of the ballpark, the war against Johnson, and each man's cash flow issues. A series of “what ifs?” slowly started turning into “why nots?”

What if the Yankees bought Ruth outright, not for $150,000, but for somewhat less—say $100,000? Ruppert would have his player, his draw in New York, Frazee would be rid of a problem and have some cash. It was a risk, but one that helped each man—Ruth might either thrive or fail, and the Red Sox already knew it was as possible to lose with Ruth as it was to win. And then, to make up the difference, what if New York offered Boston a side deal some months later, like … provide a mortgage a little while later, if needed, on Fenway Park? According to information in Frazee's archives, they had already been discussing the mortgage as early as October as an entirely separate item, but now the changing situation with Johnson upped the ante.

Why not just fold it all together into one package? That way Frazee could pay off Lannin and acquire Fenway, further inoculating him from Johnson's wrath. Then—and this was the genius of the deal, really—even if the Giants canceled the Yankees' Polo Grounds lease after the 1920 season or Johnson somehow got his hands on it and tried to use the ballpark issue to force Ruppert into a sale … Well, the Yankees had a ballpark,
Fenway Park
. That, in turn, would at least give them some leverage with the Giants. Boston could even waive their territorial rights and allow the Yankees to play in Boston: Welcome back, Babe. While that would undoubtedly result in a legal battle that would make the current knife fight look like a series of paper cuts, it was a potential possibility.

It was ambitious, bold, audacious, and ingenious, a triple-bank shot off the rail, perhaps the most inspired baseball transaction ever. If it worked, and Ruth played at least reasonably well in New York, everyone won—but Johnson. And if it didn't work, and Ruth bombed, well Ruppert was “only” out $100,000, plus whatever he paid Ruth. That was far better than losing his team. Frazee only lost if Ruth became superhuman.

For years, few observers ever really factored in the benefit that holding the mortgage provided the Yankees, but it's beyond the realm of belief to think they just so happened to take out a mortgage on Fenway Park at the precise time their own lease on a place to play was being threatened. That was no accident, and there is evidence to that effect in Frazee's archives. After the deal was made, one of Frazee's attorneys, Thomas J. Barry, took him to task in a letter, writing that he had been a fool to take the Yankees' terms on the mortgage, that he could have easily gotten far better terms from a bank. “I had in mind that if you did not take Rupert's [
sic
] money you could get $25,000 more from him on the Ruth deal, and also Wise would not be so technical as the present attorney's, and that we could get our money quicker from him.” But getting better terms from a bank wouldn't have served all Ruppert's needs and the deal wouldn't have worked. Besides, by eventually taking a mortgage from the Yankees at a higher rate of interest than was commercially available, Frazee would, in effect, be paying the Yankees more than $100,000 for Ruth when one included the mortgage payments … but those interest payments were tax deductible.

Their timing was impeccable—at least for Frazee. He locked in his rate with the Yankees, and beginning that same month the United States economy entered a brief but extreme two-year recession that some economists now refer to as a depression. Within months, credit dried up and commercial credit rates nearly doubled. In the long run, the rate Frazee got from the Yankees actually turned out to be a bargain. Had he waited and then tried to get a loan from a bank, he may not have received one at all. By the time the mortgage was finally executed in May, Frazee's rate was actually lower than what he would have gotten commercially. On almost every financial level, the deal worked. All that was left was for the attorneys to look over everything—and to get Ruth on board.

That was the one potential holdup. Ruppert didn't want to make a deal and then have Ruth balk at agreeing to come to New York or hold out for a new contract and then leave him holding an empty uniform. Five months earlier, the Yankees had made sure that Mays was on board before pulling the trigger on that deal, and they planned to do the same on Ruth. He was as volatile and unpredictable off the field as they hoped he would prove predictable on it, and they didn't want the deal to come as a surprise and have Ruth throw a tantrum. That was a real concern, because while the details were still being worked out, a story in the
Boston Post
threatened to mess things up. Somebody was talking to Paul Shannon.

He didn't know everything, but he knew enough to know that something was up. The headline on December 20 screamed “BABE RUTH IN MARKET FOR TRADE.”

After saying that neither Frazee nor Barrow wanted to discuss it, Shannon warned Boston fans not to be “astonished if the burly batter is allowed to pass through.” He noted that the contract differences between the Red Sox and Ruth were real, and while admitting that Ruth was a talent, he also pointed out that Ruth wasn't always easy to get along with, writing that “he had hurt morale considerably” and offering the opinion that Ruth's attitude had “put a big dent in his popularity in Boston” and estranged Boston management, “who are beginning to loop in the burly batter as a second Frankenstein.”

The story inspired widespread debate on not only Ruth's value, but, given the Giants' recent bid for Hornsby, that of any ballplayer. The top baseball salary at the time was likely Ty Cobb's annual $20,000, a figure it had taken him nearly two decades to reach. Ruth had only played five full seasons, and wanted more than that. In the
Globe
, Arthur Duffey crowed that no ballplayer was worth that kind of money, not even Ruth. Then, as now, the notion of someone becoming fabulously wealthy just for playing ball offended a certain portion of observers.

All the while, Ruth enjoyed the sunshine and the fine weather in California, soaking up the rays and playing golf. However, he was not completely oblivious to what was taking place. Every day brought more indications that something was up, and baseball's rumor mill has never been particularly discreet. If Ruth didn't hear the whispers, Igoe certainly did. By late December, there were even more veiled references in the press that something was happening. Ruth's future in Boston was the subject of almost daily debate in the local papers.

Ruppert and Frazee talked and talked, and then finally sent everything off to the attorneys. Although Ruth had yet to be informed or signed on, worried that the news might leak prematurely, they went ahead and closed on the sale. Each had looked at the tax situation, and there were advantages having the deal dated in 1919. If Ruth backed out, they could always just tear it up.

The five-page contract transferring Ruth to the Yankees was dated December 26, 1919, between the Boston American League Baseball Club and the American League Base Ball Club of New York. The price was $100,000—$25,000 cash, plus three promissory notes for $25,000 at 6 percent interest for each, the first payable November 1, 1920, the next two on the same date in 1921 and 1922. Frazee already planned to sell the notes at discount and receive the cash up front, a sign not so much of desperation, but of the way each club was responding to the needs and desires of the other. Putting up only $25,000 in cash kept Ruppert fluid, and Ruppert even made the arrangements with one of his banks so Frazee would not have to wait too long to sell the notes.

It's important to realize that the mortgage on Fenway Park is not specifically mentioned in the document. Apart from the cash and notes, the remainder of the sale price is described as only “other goods and valuable considerations.” That's because the mortgage could not be put in place until Frazee actually acquired title to Fenway Park. And it's possible each party still held out some dim hope that, perhaps, that part might not even be necessary, in which case “other goods and valuable considerations,” could mean almost anything, including more cash or players. Besides, why mention a mortgage in a deal and watch Ban Johnson, who as member of the National Commission approved all contracts, think of some reason to block it, or otherwise tip him off about their ballpark plans?

The agreement to secure a first mortgage on Fenway Park was actually handled in a separate letter of agreement between Ruppert and Frazee. Although some subsequent biographers have tried to assign a total value of more than $400,000 to the sale, that's not quite the case. Remember, when Frazee sold the Red Sox he eventually paid off the mortgage, and money was sent back to the Yankees with interest. In the end, the deal cost the Yankees “only” $100,000 and a temporary loan by way of the mortgage, and Frazee actually ended up receiving even more back in value. His final acquisition of Fenway Park would eventually allow the Red Sox to be sold for somewhat more than if he had not owned the park outright. Land values in Boston skyrocketed in the early 1920s and as purely a real estate deal, Frazee made a pretty good one. Selling Ruth for $100,000 eventually helped him sell the Red Sox for more than $1 million, nearly twice what he initially paid.

And once and for all, let's put to rest the tired, spurious, hoary old chestnut that proceeds from the sale of Ruth financed Frazee's production of the seminal hit musical
No, No, Nanette
, the production that more or less created the modern musical comedy, helped usher in the Golden Age of the Broadway musical, and earned Frazee millions. There is simply no thread that connects the Ruth sale and
Nanette
. Between the sale of Ruth and the creation of
Nanette
, Frazee produced a number of other successful Broadways shows that ran hundreds of performances and grossed hundreds of thousands of dollars. It's not like Frazee set aside the money from the Ruth sale in some special account, then pulled it out four years later. While it is true that
Nanette
was based on an earlier show,
My Lady Friends
, that play was already in production—and a verified hit—at the time of the Ruth sale, years before Frazee ever had the notion of using it as the inspiration for
Nanette
.

The sale of Ruth eventually helped Frazee purchase Fenway Park free and clear of any mortgage.
Nanette
was actually financed, at least in part (for theatrical producers generally use other people's money—investors—to bankroll their shows), by the sale of the Boston Red Sox in the summer of 1923 to a syndicate led by Bob Quinn for nearly $1.2 million. That transaction not only took place just prior to the first stages of the production of
Nanette
, but put nearly ten times the amount of money into Frazee's pocket than the Ruth sale ever did. Selling the Red Sox eventually freed Frazee of what had become a burden, and within a few months allowed him to turn his full attention to the idea of turning
My Lady Friends
into a musical, an idea that had been percolating for some time. To argue that the Ruth sale financed
Nanette
is a leap that lacks both facts and logic. It's a fantasy that simply allowed Boston fans to excuse generations of losing baseball, bad management by Frazee's successors, and simplistic, poorly researched, agenda-driven history.

Now all somebody had to do was tell Ruth about the deal and convince him that going to New York was a good idea. The job fell to his new manager, New York's Miller Huggins. The former major league infielder retired as a player with the Cardinals after 1916 but managed the club from 1913 through 1917 and was credited with helping make Rogers Hornsby a major leaguer. He took over the Yankees in 1918, not only being in charge on the field, but making most of the personnel decisions as well. A smart baseball man and a good judge of talent, Huggins would eventually receive credit, like Barrow, for keeping Ruth in line in New York.

Huggins had the owner's full trust, and, conveniently enough, was already in California, sent there earlier to sign several Yankees, including new acquisition Bob Meusel. He may well have known the Ruth deal was in the works when he left New York. Now they wired Huggins to deliver the news to his new star. While he was on his way, Frazee made his first move post-Ruth, trading for hard-luck left-handed Washington pitcher Harry Harper, a move roundly praised in the Boston press.

It took Huggins several days to make it to Los Angeles and track down Ruth. He reportedly found him playing golf at Griffith Park, and met him in the clubhouse.

The subsequent meeting has been described in almost absurdly apocryphal terms: Huggins introducing himself, Ruth wondering if he'd been traded, then Huggins sagely giving Ruth some fatherly advice about how he would have to behave in New York, with Ruth promising to play his best, before getting around to the real topic of interest: How much was he going to be paid? All they left out was Huggins promising Ruth a new pony.

Such is the power of mythmaking, and the instant Ruth became property of the New York Yankees the mythmaking machine of the city that never sleeps went to work 24/7 to make a man equal to whatever myth it could manufacture. But there are other accounts. According to wire reports, Ruth actually learned of the deal on January 4, likely from an inquisitive reporter, whom Ruth told he had yet to meet with Huggins or even hear from the Yankees at all.

About the trade, Ruth responded, “I am not surprised. When I made my demand on the Red Sox for $20,000 a year I had an idea they would choose to sell me rather than pay the increase and I knew the Yankees were the most probable purchasers.” It seems that maybe the deal may have been something Ruth and Igoe wanted all along, that by asking the exorbitant salary increase they may have hoped to force Frazee's hand, already knowing that New York was the likely destination, the only team that could afford him.