Are the Bronx Bombers an Evil Empire?
September 26, 1939
CHICAGO — “Something came up.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell the truth to the White Sox. I was going to miss the team train back to Chicago. “Something came up.” That was all they needed to know.
David Harmon, the Sox beat reporter from the Chicago Daily News, was harder to convince. Journalists are like bulldogs. They won’t let something go until they get an answer that satisfies them. Harmon had seen me suffer over the last 3 days at the Yankee Stadium press box. He assisted me with my work. I was grateful and finally broke down and told him the truth.
During each of the 3-day assault on my mind and body, I was attended to by two wonderful doctors who worked on call at Yankee Stadium. They monitored my vital signs, made sure I had plenty of liquids, applied compresses, and on the last day gave me light tranquilizers. They stayed with me until I fell into a cab following completion of my writing duties.
One of the doctors, Dr. John Thompson, was a veteran of World War I. He told me he had seen this type of reaction within the trenches of France and Belgium. He had also seen it manifest itself again among some of the veterans he had as patients back in New York.
Dr. Thompson recommended that I see a psychiatrist friend of his. He called and Dr. Richard Andrews agreed to see me in the morning prior to meeting with his other patients.
I was nervous, to say the least. I had never been to a psychiatrist before. Frankly, I never had use for them in the past.
When I walked into Dr. Andrew’s office, I was surprised to see Dr. Thompson there as well. Dr. Andrew’s quickly explained that the two of them had been discussing my case (I never considered myself worthy of a case study). Both agreed that war trauma was a part of what was happening to me.
“But I’ve never even been close to a war,” I argued. They proceeded to pepper me with questions about my interest in following the news of what was happening in Europe. They talked about my Polish friends and about how I was internalizing their pain and worries.
Further questioning had me recalling stories of WWI told by my uncle Ira Jones. He had seen and experienced awful things. He also was a great storyteller, who didn’t spare details, even for a young kid.
Dr. Andrew’s explained that he thought I may have adopted those stories as my own. Perhaps I was reliving my uncle’s experiences.
“But what does that have to do with baseball!” I almost screamed. Without directly answering my question, Dr. Andrews began asking me questions about the Yankees. How many consecutive World Series have the Yankees won? Three. How many other teams had won 3 consecutive World Series? None. Which team had already captured the American League pennant in 1939? The Yankees. “I don’t unders …”
“Bear with me,” he interrupted. The interrogation continued. Who did the Yankees beat in last year’s World Series? The Chicago Cubs. How many games did the Cubs win? Zero. How many games did the White Sox play against the Yankees in 1939? 22. How many games did the White Sox win? Three. How many games did the White Sox play at Yankee Stadium this year? 11. How many of those games did the White Sox win? Zero.
“Son of Gun,” I exclaimed!
“One more question,” Dr. Andrews injected. “What is the nickname for the New York Yankees? The Bronx Bombers.
My mind exploded as if hit by a shell. I even made the sound of an explosion and demonstrated with my hands what was happening in my brain.
I didn’t want to admit it. Honestly, I didn’t. I did everything I could to force the thoughts out of my head. It wasn’t fair. I knew that. It wasn’t even a close comparison.
Yet there it was showing up in each of the Chicago White Sox games at Yankee Stadium this week. They were like images from a horror story that I couldn’t erase.
My subconscious was equating the New York Yankees with Nazi Germany and Soviet Red Army. It was equating baseball games with war scenarios. The Yankees baseball beat downs of my beloved ChiSox were the equivalent of those mighty armies rolling over Poland with no mercy. It was even manifesting itself in my thoughts and my writing.
My head was swirling as I thanked Dr. Thompson and Dr. Andrews for their time and concern. Despite the confusion in my brain, I felt a rare (lately) and peaceful feeling of calm. Maybe it was because I was leaving the Big Apple, rather than riding into it.
The train ride back to Chicago was filled with thoughts and echoes of what I had heard back in that Manhattan psychiatrist’s office. Did I really view the New York American League Baseball Club as an Evil Empire of some sort? Are they an Evil Empire?
Typical of late September baseball, the Pale Hose schedule was now chocked full of double headers. Teams tried to make up games that were cancelled earlier in the season because of inclement weather. On both September 23 and 24, Chicago entertained the St. Louis Browns at Comiskey Park. On the 23rd, the Sox swept the Brownies 10–9 and 6–1. It felt so good to be home.
In the opener, St. Louis scored multiple runs in the 1st, 3rd, and 4th innings. It wasn’t until after the game that I realized I experienced none of the symptoms I had experienced in New York.
St. Louis pulled a turnaround on the ChiSox on the 24th by sweeping the home club by scores of 8–5 and 6–5. These were painful losses for the Sox because it put them under .500 again. On the following day, St. Louis again beat Chicago as Ted Lyons suffered another late-season loss.
Through all five games against the Browns, I experienced no flashbacks to Yankee Stadium or any other war site. My conclusion . . . the St. Louis Browns are not an Evil Empire.
