Work, Fight or Play Baseball: When Babe Ruth Put His Career on Hold and Went to the Factory | Baseball

Big Bambino… Sultan of Swat… steel worker?

Yes, Babe Ruth, the man who hit 714 home runs in Major League Baseball, worked as a steelworker early in his career. Why the move to Bethlehem Steel in Lebanon, Pennsylvania? The career change was the result of a World War I government directive called the Work-or-Fight Order that required eligible men to register for the draft or find essential work, such as in a steel mill. But there was a loophole for Major Leaguers like Ruth. Bethlehem Steel ran its own baseball league and was happy to hire professional athletes, ostensibly for war-related jobs but really to increase the league’s competitiveness. This story comes out of anonymity in a book published earlier this year, Work, Fight, or Play Ball, by Pennsylvania-based journalist William Ecenbarger.

“We didn’t know how long the war would last,” Ecenbarger says. “There were concerns about the draft. The obvious way out was to play for one of the shipyards or steel mills.”

Among the baseball players who did so were not only Ruth, but also such other greats as Shoeless Joe Jackson and Rogers Hornsby. The list included about 45 active Major Leaguers, and about 30 retired players.

Bethlehem Steel had the money and the motivation. Business was booming thanks to wartime orders to build ships to ferry troops to Europe. Owner Charles Schwab—no, not the financial services guru—founded the Bethlehem Steel League in 1917 to entertain his growing workforce. The six teams were originally made up entirely of steelworkers, but the Work-or-Fight Order caused an exodus from the majors when it was issued in May 1918.

Most players went to the Bethlehem Steel League, while some joined the rival Delaware River Shipbuilding League, which was also linked to Schwab.

“It’s hard to generalize what the players’ motivations were,” Ecenbarger says. “I think some of the players really wanted to participate in the war effort.”

Count Shoeless Joe in that category. Although the Chicago White Sox star would become infamous the following year in the Black Sox scandal, Ecenbarger credits Jackson with going to work as a painter on his days off and raising money for the war effort. However, he adds, “The overwhelming majority, I think, wanted to avoid the draft, to avoid going to France.”

Ruth and his Boston Red Sox teammates had earned draft exemptions by virtue of their participation in the 1918 World Series. So had their rivals, the Chicago Cubs. After the series ended in a Red Sox victory, Ruth went to work at the Bethlehem Steel plant in Lebanon, where he rented an apartment and bought a new Scripps-Booth roadster.

It was also a bonus that Bethlehem Steel paid the players higher salaries than regular employees.

“I’m sure there was a lot of resentment among the permanent employees,” Ecenbarger says. “It’s hard to document. There’s not a lot written about this competition.”

The author lives not far from Lebanon. Thirty-five years ago, he was walking his dog past an abandoned turn-of-the-century amusement park. There was a sign nearby: “Babe Ruth Field.” He contacted the Lebanon County Historical Society: “He never played here, did he?” “Oh, yeah, he did.” The society had what they claimed was Babe’s old jersey, emblazoned only with the words “Beth Steel”—there were no jersey numbers back then. The memory stuck in Ecenbarger’s mind. A few years ago, his wife suggested he write a book about the Steel League.

Ecenbarger checked the biographies of the directors in the library—including Ruth, Hornsby, and Jackson—but details about the Steel League were scarce. A visit to the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum also yielded little information. Newspapers from 1917 and 1918 were more useful. With baseball as the national pastime, still unchallenged by football, basketball, and hockey, and with print journalism the primary source of media, the extensive game summaries proved invaluable.

The book explores the complex role of baseball in American society after the country entered the war. According to the author, Americans were pressured to “do their part,” and those who would not were labeled “slackers.” Players participated in mock military drills on baseball fields, using bats instead of guns.

There were Major Leaguers who joined the war effort. Ecenbarger estimates their number at 250, noting that they eventually included Hall of Famers Ty Cobb, Christy Mathewson and Grover Cleveland Alexander.

“Cobb was considered the best player in the game,” Ecenbarger says. “He had three young children and a deferment and he still signed up, to a unit that was one of the most dangerous in the Army,” the Army Chemical Warfare Division, which “defended against poison gas attacks. … It was dangerous for Christy Mathewson, who served with Cobb and was gassed in France. It ended his career. Grover Cleveland Alexander, the Cubs’ star pitcher, missed the World Series because he was in France.”

Shoeless Joe Jackson had three brothers who served in France. He was married and had two other siblings and a widowed mother who depended on him for their support. In the spring of 1918, Jackson’s draft board in South Carolina revoked his exemption.

“Other Major Leaguers said, if they can draft Joe Jackson, they can draft anybody,” Ecenbarger said.

Jackson set a precedent by leaving the White Sox for a subsidiary of Bethlehem Steel, the Delaware-based Harlan & Hollingsworth Shipbuilding Company, dressing for his new employer’s Wilmington team.

“Shoeless Joe Jackson said at one point that it was harder to hit in the Bethlehem Steel League than in the American League,” Ecenbarger says. “The quality of players was very high … teams in central Pennsylvania and Wilmington often got more players than the Philadelphia Athletics and Philadelphia Phillies.”

Ruth kept his job with the Red Sox that summer. At the time, he was known as a great pitcher, not a power hitter. The war and the Steel League changed things. When teammates left for one or the other, the Red Sox, short on players, placed Ruth in the outfield. At bat, he dazzled with home runs, a rarity for the era.

In the World Series, Ruth pitched a shutout in Game 1. In keeping with national patriotic sentiment, the Star-Spangled Banner was played during the seventh-inning stretch. Ruth saw his record Series scoreless-inning streak end in Game 4, but he and the Red Sox went on to win the championship. He then prepared for his new “career” as a steelworker — specifically, a blueprint delivery man.

Ruth didn’t deliver blueprints while on the Bethlehem Steel payroll. He ended up playing just one exhibition game for Lebanon. In the eighth inning, he came to bat with no outs and runners on second and third. He was given an intentional walk, which shocked the crowd, and the pitcher was removed from the inning.

In the late 1980s, Ecenbarger interviewed two local residents with memories of Ruth for a Sunday article in the Philadelphia Inquirer magazine.

“They both told me that Babe Ruth didn’t do any work at the steel mill,” Ecenbarger says. “He would come to the mill dressed in fancy clothes and talk to people about baseball for an hour, and then he would leave.”

Other baseball players made plans to follow Ruth to the Steel League, while the majors decided to cancel the 1919 season.

“The Red Sox and Cubs players … after the World Series, (they) started going over to the Bethlehem Steel League,” Ecenbarger says. “Everybody thought the war was going to continue.”

Instead, the conflict ended in November. The 1919 season was back on schedule, and that year the Steel League went bankrupt while the majors experienced new attendance records.

“Some people wondered what they would do with players who went to the Bethlehem Steel League,” Ecenbarger said. “Some suggested they be kicked out of baseball forever. The owners realized they really needed their star players back. Everybody came back.”

Jackson was eventually banned from baseball for life—not for the Steel League, but for his participation in the Black Sox scandal.

“He didn’t realize that some of the things he did were not going to be popular,” Ecenbarger says. “He was easily deceived.” But, the author adds, “From everything I read about him in the shipyard and in the steel mill, he worked hard. … He really tried to participate in the war effort — ‘do his part,’ as they say.”