Why Babe Ruth’s uniform No. 3 isn’t retired by MLB remains one of professional sport’s great mysteries.
You must go way back—27 years to be precise. April 15, 1997, when the late Brooklyn Dodgers’ second baseman Jackie Robinson had his uniform No. 42 permanently retired by MLB.
On that day in Flushing, Queens, prior to the New York Mets hosting the Los Angeles Dodgers at Shea Stadium, a ceremony was held during which then-Acting Commissioner of Baseball Bud Selig announced that Robinson’s No. 42 will be retired permanently throughout pro ball.
April 15, 1997, marked the 50th anniversary of Robinson breaking the MLB color barrier, when in the Brooklyn Dodgers’ lineup at first base.
Robinson would go on to play for Brooklyn for 10 years, finishing up after the 1956 season. In 1962, Robinson was elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum in Cooperstown, New York.
The Dodgers’ great infielder earned his way to the game’s greatest shrine. A brief rundown of his accomplishments is dizzying. National League MVP (1949), National League Rookie of the Year (1947) 6-time National League All-Star, World Series Champion (1955), and selected to MLB’s All-Century Team (1999).
There’s no disputing Robinson’s superior abilities on the diamond. A great role model for many, on and off the field, having his No. 42 retired is warranted and a wonderful message being made that reaches beyond athletic competition.
More than a quarter century since MLB recognized Robinson’s contributions to the game as well as society, it’s not a stretch to wonder why a second uniform number hasn’t been respectfully designated for permanent retirement.
Who doesn’t know the name Babe Ruth?
Whether addressed as the name that he is remembered as today, nearly 90 years since he last played an MLB game with the Boston Braves (May 30, 1935), or by any of the nicknames created by the media during his 22-year career, there is one thing that is certain: a more famous face of the game would be hard to establish.
His ability to hit the long ball earned George Herman Ruth the titles “the Sultan of Swat” and “the Great Bambino.” The Baltimore native could do it all, offensively, and defensively as a pitcher. He was one of the few who could dominate from both sides of the field.
Ruth, who died in 1948, belted 714 home runs, drove in 2,214 runs, and earned a 342 career batting average. Throw in four World Series Championships and seven pennants with the New York Yankees, and during his 15 seasons with the club, Ruth snatched an MVP, battling title, selected twice as an all-star, and 12 times was the home run leader—all in the American League.
There isn’t anything Ruth couldn’t do at the highest level during his career. To put his athletic dominance in perspective with today’s game, Ruth, from 1914 to 1935 put up offensive numbers seen by those in MLB uniforms and sports media today as the standards being held for current Los Angeles Dodgers’ pitcher and designated hitter Shohei Ohtani.
One of Ruth’s staunchest supporters of his No. 3 being shelved by MLB is Linda Ruth-Tosetti. If the name seems familiar, it should. Ms. Ruth-Tosetti, 69, is the biological granddaughter of the Babe. Born seven years after her grandfather died of throat cancer on Aug. 16, 1948, Ms. Ruth-Tosetti is the family torchbearer in keeping the record straight of the life and times of the hall of famer.
When it comes to campaigning for her grandfather’s No. 3 to be MLB retired, Ms. Ruth-Tosetti has taken her request to the top of baseball’s authority.
“I wrote Selig about my grandfather’s uniform a number of years ago’, Ms. Ruth-Tosetti told The Epoch Times during a phone conversation from her Connecticut home last week. “He responded that Robinson’s number is retired due to sociological reasons of importance, and a myriad of other reasons.”
According to Ms. Ruth-Tosetti, Mr. Selig didn’t address the possibility of retiring No. 3.
Unlike with Robinson’s uniform retirement, Ms. Ruth-Tosetti isn’t asking for MLB to wipe No. 3 away from any present or future players from wearing her grandfather’s number.
“No matter how loud I could yell from the rooftop, I don’t think it’s going to happen. They could keep [No.3] going, I just want to see his number hanging up in all the stadiums.”
Whereas Ms. Ruth-Tosetti tells of her grandfather not needing to have his number retired to validate his statistically amazing career, having his No. 3 posted with each teams’ retired numbers in both league stadiums, like Robinson’s, would make her pleased.
In listening to Ms. Ruth-Tosetti speak about how racially friendly her grandfather was with black players years before Robinson’s debut, this played to his detriment, when wanting to manage in the major leagues.
“Babe wanted to manage the Yankees. Landis [Kenesaw Mountain Landis—baseball’s first commissioner] knew that my grandfather wanted to put players of color on the team. He knew how good the pitchers in the Negro Leagues were. My grandfather barnstormed with them. That’s why Landis blocked my grandfather from trying to manage.’
Not everyone associated with baseball shares Ms. Ruth-Tosetti’s opinion of her grandfather’s No.3, that he should be the second player in MLB history to have his number retired.
Marty Appel, one of the game’s most trusted and respected voices as an author, historian, publicist, and Yankees’ employee, offers a counterpoint to the topic of Ruth following Robinson’s uniform number retirement.
“I consider Babe Ruth to still be the best baseball player in history—more than a century after his impact was felt—and obviously a very significant figure in baseball history,” Mr. Appel said in an email to The Epoch Times.
“But I take a fairly modest view of his uniform number being retired across MLB. He only wore No.3 for six years [as a Yankee,] since numbers weren’t introduced until 1929, past his peak years. So, such an honor would feel somewhat forced, at least to me.”
Ms. Ruth-Tosetti’s mother, Dorothy Helen Ruth Pirone, is the Babe’s only biological child.
A man with no known social blinders, a member of the inaugural National Baseball Hall of Fame Class of 1936, a player who regularly met with black baseball fans in stadium segregated seating areas, and who in 1969 was named baseball’s Greatest Player Ever in a ballot commemorating the 100th anniversary of professional baseball, doesn’t have the ultimate acknowledgement by the game that he played a major part in building.While Ms. Ruth-Tosetti believes there are other “behind-the-scenes” factors as to why her grandfather’s No. 3 isn’t next to Robinson’s hanging in MLB stadiums, she takes a “turn the other cheek” approach. There’s so much to celebrate about Babe Ruth that another official validation of thanks from MLB can wait a little longer.
