Monday, April 10, 1917
Winter Haven, Florida
3:05 p.m.
The DeLorean materialized somewhere near the training facility of the Boston Red Sox. Doc told Marty, “I’ll go into the clubhouse and sleep induce the you that’s under the influence of my potion. Meanwhile, you go out there to the mound and wait for Ruth.” “Check, Doc.” said Marty as he headed to the field. After sneaking into the facility, Doc stealthfully looked around for the Red Sox clubhouse. After finding it, Doc slipped in unobserved. There was no one around. But, there was Marty. He had just came out of the shower and was putting his clothes on. After configuring the sleep inducer so he could be unconscience for a few minutes-long enough for the current Marty to face Ruth and pitch to, Doc snuck up from behind and sleep induced him. Then, looking around to see that no one was there. Doc sat Marty down and snuck out to the field.
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Marty stood on the mound looking at his watch. Then, Ruth’s voice was heard. “So you think you’re so smart trying to be better than me. Why don’t you throw a few to me?” he asked. Right on the tick. said Marty to himself. Turning to Ruth, he said “No thanks.” “Com’on.” said Ruth, “You’d said that I would make the outfield instead by being a slugger. So pitch to me.” Here it comes. said Marty to himself. He picked up a baseball and tossed it to Marty. Marty paused for the next sentence. “What’s the matter, chicken?” asked Ruth. That was it! He picked up the ball as the Babe picked up the bat. With the Bambino poised to take a swing, Marty went to a wind up and threw. The Babe swung and connected. Marty watched as the ball went high over the fence. “That’s your best?” asked Ruth, “I thought you were a good pitcher, better than me.” He threw Marty another ball saying “Have at it again.” Marty threw another pitch. Ruth swung and hit that one well over the fence as well.
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Manager Barry and the rest of the team came out to see what was going on. What they were witnessing was beyond belief. His newly-found star pitcher William Bendix was being shelled by Babe Ruth. Barry watched each swing that Ruth made and every hit he made was a majestic shot.“Son of a bitch!” said Barry. He was awstruck.
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Ruth stopped taking his swings and addressed Marty asking “How can you get that ball past the other hitters and not me?” “That’s what I like to know.” said a voice. It was Manager Barry’s. But he was awstruck. Ruth turned to him asking “What do you say ‘Mr. High-On-Bendix’?” “Now wait a minute, Ruth.” said Barry, “As much as I want some bats in the lineup, you’re a pitcher and pitchers can’t play everyday.” “I don’t have to pitch.” said Ruth. Turning to Marty he said “You said it yourself, Bendix. I could play the outfield.” Binford Tannen who was among the players who came out to witness Babe’s performance said “Now wait a minute. You’re not gonna take my place in the outfield, Ruth.” Barry stepped in saying “Stay where you are, Tannen. Both Ruth and Bendix have a point here.” “Like hell.” said Tannen. He went over to pick up a bat and stepped to the plate. “Com’on, kid.” he said, “Give me your best stuff.” Marty trembled on the mound with fear.
Doc watched the distant drama unfold. There was Binford Tannen standing at the plate taking his swings. Great Scott! said Doc to himself, If he starts hitting the ball off of Marty as well, my plan will backfire. He turned to the unconscience Marty who was still under the influence of his serum and tried to revive him. As he did, he heard a voice saying “As you were, Tannen.” Doc turned to take one more look outside.
Barry had the bat confiscated from Tannen sayinig “You’re off the team, Tannen.” Tannen stood there speachless. Then, he turned to both Ruth and Marty saying “You’re both in this together. It’s a conspiracy. You’re trying to get me kicked off the team.” Barry interrupted him saying “Stop acting paranoid, Tannen. Go in the clubhouse and pack your things. You’re gone.” Tannen turned and headed back to the clubhouse. One his way, Tannen gave both Ruth and Marty one parting shot. “One these days, I’m gonna hunt you both down like ducks and find you and then...” “That’s dog, Tannen.” said Barry, “’Hunt you both down like dogs’. The one thing I hated you in the first place is that you don’t say things right.” “Alright, dogs!” said Tannen. After that, he left.
Marty looked over towards the clubhouse. There was Doc. Seeing the crowd of players surrounding Ruth and taking no notice of Marty, he approached Doc saying “I did it, Doc. I’ve convinced him to be an outfielder.” “Great, Marty.” said Doc, “Now we can go back to the future in time for your pregame performance.” “Right, Doc.” said Marty, “Let’s get our asses back...wait a minute, Doc. My guitar.” “Don’t worry, Marty.” said Doc, “Once we get back, I’ll have your guitar repaired. All you have to do is stall them.” “How long, Doc?” asked Marty. “Marty.” said Doc, “You’re not thinking fourth dimensionally. I’ll take the guitar to the nearest repair shop, jump into the time machine, go ahead to a point in time where the guitar is repaired and then bring it back to a point in time where only a few minutes have past since you last saw it.” “Yeah, Doc.” said Marty, “Right.” After that, the two left the park for the DeLorean.
Marty regained conscience and heard some commotion outside. Putting on some clothes, he went out to see what was going on. What he saw was a crowd of players surrounding Ruth as if he did something positive. Marty approached and asked “Hey guys...” He was interrupted by the sound of two sonic booms and a flash of light. Everyone looked up to see what it was. But there was nothing but clear skies. Only Marty knew what it was. Then, someone said “What a day. First Ruth hits home runs off of Bendix and now this.” Marty on hearing this said to himself He did? Something tells me that I might come back here for something. He stood there and stared skyward.
The DeLorean reappeared over the stadium. As it did, Doc and Marty looked down. The fog was gone but still no Candlestick Park. The two time travellers were frustrated. “I don’t get it, Doc.” said Marty, “What else could go wrong?” “I don’t know, Marty.” said Doc, “At least the fog is gone.” Marty looked down at the statistics, stories and articles that they copied at the library before their return trip to 1917. “Maybe we’d better look at what we copied to see if there were any changes.” he suggested. “Wait ‘til I land the DeLorean.” said Doc, “That way you don’t get carsick.” “Right, Doc.” said Marty. Doc stirred the car towards the city.
Old Rec was gone. But a few blocks in the distance was another ballpark. Doc stirred the DeLorean towards that area.
Upon arriving there, Doc landed the car in an alleyway and he and Marty got out. “Great Scott.” he said, “Look at the stadium.” Marty did. Over the main gate was a sign reading
“Seals Stadium?” exclaimed Marty. “Seals Stadium.” repeated Doc. He looked at the street sign. It read 16th and Bryant Street. “This is the same Seals Stadium that the minor league team played at for years.” said Doc. “I’ve never heard of the place, Doc.” said Marty. “It was torn down long before you were born.” said Doc, “But not before the Giants played two years there until Candlestick Park was built.” Doc pointed towards the ballpark saying “After it was torn down, they built a bar called Lefty O’Douls. It was in there when I learned that I couldn’t handle my own liquor.” “Okay, Doc.” said Marty, “How about why it’s still there.” “Oh yes.” said Doc. The two turned back to the DeLorean and first picked up the sports page of the newspaper they bought the first time back in 1987. At last, it showed the National and American Leagues. But it also showed the Pacific Coast League as a major league. San Francisco did not appear in the National League which only showed eight teams. They were in Boston, Brooklyn, Chicago, Cincinnati, New York, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and St Louis. There were not only no sign of a team in San Francisco but none in Los Angeles, San Diego, Atlanta, Houston or Montreal. The American league also consisted of eight teams: Boston, Chicago, Cleveland, Detroit, New York, Philadelphia, St. Louis and Washington. No Texas, California, Oakland, Kansas City, Baltimore, Milwaukee, Seattle, Minnesota, or Toronto. Doc studied the standings very observantly. Then, he said “This is the same number of American and National League teams that was present before 1961 when Minnesota and California entered the American League.” “It is?” asked Marty. “Yes.” said Doc, “And this same number of teams are in the same cities they were in before 1953 when the Boston Braves moved to Milwaukee.” “Doc.” said Marty, “What about the Pacific Coast League being a major league team?” “During the ‘50’s there was talk about a third major league. The PCL was in the top running. Then, the franchise shifts started.” said Doc, “The Pacific League’s hope of being a major league team ended when the Giants and Dodgers came out here to California.” “But at least we did save major league baseball.” said Marty. “We did.” said Doc, “But not all of it. It looks like history needs more patching up to do before I get you to your performance tonight.” “What are we going to do?” asked Marty. “First of all,” said Doc, “We’ll have to look at Babe Ruth’s averages.” Doc picked up the copy of the page from the statbook he and Marty looked at in the library and looked at it. It now had the batting averages as well as the pitching stats. But both ended at 1927. Doc looked at the copy of the 1927 paper. Where it once read “BASEBALL GOES UNDER” now read
And where the subtitle once read “Never recovered from Black Sox Scandal” now read “Vaunted Yankee slugger vanishes without a trace.” Doc and Marty read the article:
NEW YORK (UPI)-Babe Ruth, the leader of the fabled Murderer’s Row failed to arrive Murderer's Row disappeared before yesterday’s
game at Yankee Stadium against the Washington Senators. After the game, his teamates went over to his house
only to find that he was not there and his family doesn’t know where he is. Family members were not
available for comment but Ruth’s teamate Lou Gehrig said that the Babe had been receiving recent threats
from someone. It had been rumored lateley that a former teamate of the Babe from his Boston Red Sox
called Binford Tannen had vowed revenge for being kicked of the team in 1917....
Doc and Marty stopped reading. “Binford Tannen.” exclaimed Marty. “You know him, Marty?” asked Doc. “Yeah.” said Marty, “He was the first batter I faced the day I arrived in 1917. When we had to come back to 1917 to correct what I did, the manager decided to put Ruth in the outfield and kick Tannen off the team...Oh shit! He’s after Ruth now.” “That’s then, Marty.” said Doc. “Sorry about that, Doc.” said Marty. Doc turned to look at the article. A part of it read:
...as of the other day, his home run totals were 59. The same number of home runs that he had hit last year.
It was hoped that he would have broken that record on the last day of the season.
Doc looked up. Then he remembered the date that baseball was supposed to collasped before he and Marty went back to fix the damage: September 30, 1927. “Of course.” he said, “September 30, 1927.” “What about that date, Doc?” asked Marty. “September 30, 1927.” repeated Doc, “Now I remember. That was the date that Babe Ruth hit number 60 for that year.” Turning to Marty, he said “Ever since that year, 60 home runs was the most that any player had hit in a single season until Roger Maris broke that record in 1961. But when Maris hit 61, the commisioner decided to put an asterisk besides that record saying the Maris his 61 in a 162 game schedule. Ruth hit his in a 154 games.” “Okay, Doc.” said Marty, “We could dispense with the baseball history lessons. Just tell me what are we gonna do now? It’s almost time for my performance.” “We’ll have to go back to 1927, make sure he makes that game and not disappear.” “What if we don’t succeed?” asked Marty. “We must succeed.” said Doc. Closing the door, Doc set the time circuits for September 30, 1927 and the location New York City. Then the car lifted off the ground and accelerated up to 88 miles per hour and through the time barrier.