Pride of the Yankees Page #2

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ain't we got fun?"

Here he is now, the pride of the ballroom.

- Quit kidding, will you?

- I wouldn't kid you.

I'd never kid you.

- Come on, eat.

- Nice work, Lou. You're wonderful.

No, I'm not.

You're the one that's wonderful.

What are you going to be

when you grow up, Van?

I'd like to be a great, big fireman

because I'm so good at it.

But the mater won't let me.

- She wants me to be a motorman.

- Hey, what is all this?

Van, even though

the big-league teams are begging you...

...on their bended knees to join them,

you will remember us, won't you?

I don't need anything

to make me remember you.

But I'd like to have these...

...because they're like you.

He was only joking.

A man from the Yankees is looking for you.

- More jokes?

- Gehrig? My name's Blake.

Miller Huggins of the Yankees...

- You're trying to be funny, too?

- Wait a minute.

Say, Lou.

What made you give Mr. Blake

the rush act last night?

He came up to your fraternity house

to do you a favor.

You mean that he...

You mean that you want to...

Wait a minute. Let's start over again.

This is Sam Blake of the Evening Standard.

Lou Gehrig.

You don't have to play with the Yankees,

but it's no insult to be asked.

The Yankees?

- You mean the New York Yankees?

- Not the Chillicothe Yankees.

Thanks.

That's wonderful.

But...

...l'm gonna be an engineer.

Engineer.

- Don't get up, Mama. I'll get it for you.

- I can do it. I'm all right.

No, you're not all right. You stay here.

- What's the matter, Pop?

- Mom is sick.

- It's nothing.

- It's something, Lou.

- I'll get a doctor.

- Never mind. He'll cost $2.

I'll get him.

We must get your wife

to the hospital immediately.

The general hospital is rather crowded,

but I'll see if I can make arrangements.

There must be room in one of the wards.

Mom's not going to a ward.

She's gonna have the best,

a good room in a private hospital.

But beggars can't be choosers.

The private hospital costs money,

and where are we going to get it?

I know where I can get it.

Tell the doc not to bother.

I'll make all the arrangements.

Aren't you gonna read what you're signing?

No, I'm in a hurry.

Just in case you're interested...

...you're the property

of the New York Yankees from now on.

Only, I think we'll have to smooth off

the rough edges.

To start with, I'm going to send you up

to play with Hartford.

- Here you are.

- Thank you, bye. Bye, Blake.

- Try to keep your afternoons free, will you?

- Sure.

Maybe he signed with the wrong team.

He's nutty enough to play

with the Brooklyn Dodgers.

You'll never be sorry you signed him.

Well, I don't know.

That's wonderful, Louie.

But one thing I don't understand.

They send you from New York to Hartford

to bring you back to New York.

I'll never understand America.

They're sending me there

for the experience I need.

That's the way they work it.

How you going to work it?

- Work what?

- Mama.

Louie.

- How's my best girl?

- Fine.

Mama, I've got to go make a phone call.

Wait a minute. Grab a hold of that.

- How are they treating you, Mom?

- Wonderful.

I can't get over how much

they give you here for nothing.

All the city hospitals are free.

Everybody treats me like a queen.

Mom.

- Yes, Louie?

- I want to tell you something.

- Excuse me a minute.

- Wait.

It's nothing, really.

I'm going away, Mom.

I'm going to Hartford.

- You see, Mom...

- Harvard.

Harvard?

That's wonderful.

You are going to be a great engineer.

Harvard's engineering school is good.

But Louie, suppose she finds out?

What about me?

Protect yourself in the clinches, Pop.

What about mail?

Suppose Mama writes you?

She'll write the letters, but you mail them.

What about the money you will be sending me?

- How will I explain that?

- Tell her you got a job.

- A job? Who, me?

- You.

Louie, wait.

- What kind of a job?

- That's up to you.

All aboard.

Politics.

- Good morning, Mrs. Gehrig.

- Good morning, Mrs. Roberts.

You saw the papers?

Papers? The one says white, the other black.

I never read them.

- You must be proud of your son.

- My Lou? Of course.

But I just can't get over how wonderful

everything is with my husband.

Mr. Gehrig, you know?

I had no idea that...

My husband told me in the hospital

how wonderful his job was.

I couldn't believe it.

You want to know when he leaves for work?

When he feels like it.

When he doesn't feel like it,

he doesn't go to work at all.

Political, at $25 a week.

What is it, Papa?

- What's the matter?

- Nothing.

- What?

- Nothing.

- I couldn't wait for you to come to the door.

- It's in the paper!

- Isn't it wonderful?

- Shut up.

This is great news!

You should be a proud father!

You'll tell me later.

Mr. Gehrig, this is a great day.

- What is it all about?

- Didn't you read in the paper about Lou?

- Paper? Lou?

- Here it is.

Read it.

- Lou?

- Yes.

"Gehrig recalled by Yankees."

We'll talk about it later.

We'll talk about it now.

- Mom.

- Here's Lou now.

Congratulations.

If you don't mind, I think there are a few

things I ought to talk over with the folks.

We understand.

How's my best girl?

- I'd better go, too.

- Where? To work?

I'll be right back, Louie.

About Hartford...

I didn't go there just because

I wanted to play baseball.

I went because we needed the money.

You were sick,

and the doctor said you might die.

I wish I had died, rather than see you

give up everything we planned.

For what? To play ball.

A disgrace like that.

It's not a disgrace to play with the Yankees.

That's what we came to America for.

A wonderful country

where everybody has an equal chance.

That's why you studied,

why you went to Columbia...

...so that you could play baseball?

After all my plans for you

to follow after your Uncle Otto.

Uncle Otto's dead.

Yes, and he'd turn over in his grave

if he knew what happened in the family.

People have to live their own lives.

Nobody can live it for you.

Nobody could make a ballplayer out of him...

...and nobody can make anything

but a ballplayer out of me.

You are good for nothing.

All baseballers are good for nothing.

Loafers in short pants.

You've never been to a ball game.

Lots of people go every day.

Men, women, and children.

Maybe there's something to it.

Maybe it's fun.

Why don't you come out and watch me play...

...so you can judge for yourself?

- What do you say?

- Never.

- You sure we came to the right ballpark?

- Yes.

And those are not the players?

They are getting the field ready.

What do they do with the pillows?

They are not pillows. They are bases.

- You slide into them.

- I slide into them?

Just watch, Mama.

Just watch.

I can't understand it.

So many people with nothing to do.

Score cards. Get your score cards, folks.

You can't tell the players

without a scorecard.

My own son, I can tell.

The others are none of my business.

- Is your son playing?

- Sure. Lou Gehrig.

Gehrig? Never heard of him.

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