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Heading For Home
April 1935

In hindsight, Alexander Louden should not have been surprised. Having served as the King’s Private Secretary for the past three years, he had already been on the receiving end of some of William’s more unusual demands. The previous year, he had requested Braeland’s top architects, engineers and contractors to come to America and tour her most noteworthy ballparks: Yankee Stadium, Fenway Park, Wrigley Field, Forbes Field, Sportsman’s Park, Shibe Park, Navin Field and Crosley Field all took their turn on the grand tour. William’s instructions were succinct:

“Take the best from all these ballparks and build me one in Brunswick as well as in Wolseley. I want to see baseball played in Braeland.”

Without knowing what baseball was really all about, the ‘King’s men’ nevertheless complied, and after three weeks touring the parks, they were back home and designing Braeland’s new landmarks.

Now Louden had made the final preparations for the Royal Family to leave New York City and make a triumphant return home. But as was usually the case, William had other ideas.

“We shall not be leaving from New York right away. We shall head to Boston by train first and then we can make our way home.”

Despite the protestations of the Secretary about everything already having been arranged, William was unmoved.

“I’ll leave it to you to decide whether it’s easier to depart for Braeland from Boston or come back to New York, but either way, there is an old friend I need to see first. Please make it happen.”

Asking A Favour

By the spring of 1935, Babe Ruth was a shadow of the player he once was, the years of fast living and age having finally caught up with him. Returning to Boston that February to play for the struggling Braves, it would prove to be his last season as a player. But none of that mattered to William. To him, he was and would always be the ‘Babe’ - his friend. Now he wanted to meet his friend one last time on his own turf and ask him a favour. He had been hesitant before to ask the Babe, since he had already been so generous of his time over the years. But now with his return to his home country imminent, this was his final opportunity.

The next day, the train rolled into Boston’s South Station with three Pierce-Arrows waiting to take their esteemed riders to Braves Field. Once there, William asked the others to wait and walked towards the Braves’ main entrance. Meeting him at the steps was Braves’ owner Emil Fuchs.

“So very good to meet you, your Majesty,” as Fuchs accepted William’s outreached hand. “I can’t tell you how much of an honour this is.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fuchs,” replied William, looking rather anxious. “Is the Babe around? He replied to my telegram saying that he would be here today.”

“Indeed he is. I believe he is out on the field right now. Allow me to take you to him.”

Walking out onto the field in the bright sunshine reminded William of that first meeting he had with the Babe years ago at Yankee Stadium. Only this time, he couldn’t help but sense some sadness in the surroundings. But if there was one thing William admired about Babe Ruth, besides him being the greatest baseball player who ever lived was the Babe’s refusal to dwell on the past or be afraid of failing. Seeing the Babe as active as ever, hitting grounders and barking at the fielders it was clear that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Hello, Babe. Remember me?”

“You again?” Ruth bellowed in jest, as he had done many times before whenever he saw William. “It’s been a while son.”

The Babe called out to Rabbit Maranville, the Braves backup shortstop, who was in the dugout.

“Hey Rabbit, take over for me would ya? I’ve got company.”

William got straight to the point. “Would you come to Braeland in the off-season and do a barnstorming tour? If you’re able to, that is. I mean, the one you did last year in Japan was phenomenal, the people there loved it. I know my people would love it too, if they saw the best playing it.”

“Braeland, huh? That’s a little ways from here, isn’t it – near California?” inquired Ruth with a mischievous smile.

“Well, it’s a little farther than that!” William said with a laugh. “But don’t worry. It’s nice and warm there and we’re building two new ballparks as we speak. And all your expenses will be taken care of.”

“Sure kid, I’d be happy to do it. But who are we gonna play? You don’t have ballplayers yourself, do ya?”

A look of terror swept across William’s face, realizing he had completely forgotten this crucial element. But Ruth, sensing the Prince’s panic, quickly came to his rescue.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. I’ll take care of that no problem. We’ll put on the best show down there, the likes of which has never been seen before, not even in this country.” Then the Babe paused. “I guess I’m gonna to have to stop calling you ‘kid’, since I hear you’re a King now.”

William shook his head emphatically. “No. I’ve always liked it when you called me ‘kid’.”

“So is that why you came all the up here, just to ask me that?” Ruth asked with a somewhat suspicious look.

“I would have come up here regardless, just to see you before I leave. I hope everything goes well for you here in Boston. I’ll be following and rooting for you.”

“Thanks, kid. I appreciate that. It should be interesting. It’s not exactly the Yankees, but don’t tell anyone I said that.”

William gave a knowing nod. “Well, I must go now. I’ll contact you soon after things are all squared away back home so that we can arrange for your visit. Everything should be set by then. The new ballparks should be done and all ready to go.”

Then William shook Ruth’s hand. “Thank you for everything, Babe. I can’t tell you how much this will mean for my people – how much this means to me.”

“Ah shucks, son. Don’t go soft on me. You just wire back to me the ‘where’s’ and ‘when’s’ and we’ll be there.”

“Will do, Babe. So long!”

William walked back to the waiting entourage barely concealing his joy. Soon, his countrymen would see for themselves the wondrous game that brought him so much joy as well as some of the great men who played it. Confident that his fellow Braelanders would love it as much as he did, he was finally set to leave America.

“Alright Alex, you can take me home now. I’m ready.”

Excerpt taken from the forthcoming book At The Wall: How Baseball Saved A Nation, by Paul Shirley, senior sports editor of the Brunswick Courier. Reprinted with permission.