Ruth came in at about 2:00 a.m., feeling good, and his sound-sleeping roommate was out cold. Ruth already suspected that his roommate might be the mystery crook, so he walked over to his roommate's bag and checked an out-of-the-way compartment in it. He found the five marked bills, and the gold pocket watch tumbled out and fell onto the floor. He pulled his roommate out of bed and proceeded to wipe up the room with him. He kicked the hell out of him so badly and made so much noise doing it that guests throughout the hotel awakened and alerted security.

Knocks at the door went unanswered as the power hitter continued to administer the beating the shortstop so richly deserved. Security unlocked the door and found that the big man in the room had beaten the little man seemingly to within inches of his life.

The Yankees did a magnificent job of keeping the story hush-hush and out of the newspapers, but people in Detroit, from the hotel to the clubhouse, knew exactly what had happened. The shortstop was sent back to New York the next day and was then released outright. Word spread throughout the American League that the released player was a no-good thief and he was blackballed from ever getting another job with an American League team. If not for the forgiving heart of Branch Rickey, the shortstop's career would have been over.

Mr. Rickey gave him a second chance and the thief went on to success as a player and then later as a manager. He became a well-known celebrity and was a big hit with the Hollywood crowd. His name: Leo Durocher.

He would become known as Leo the Lip, but I prefer to think of him as Leo the Lout. In time he became quite the hero in the eyes of the public; but nobody familiar with the cause of his banishment from the American League was even the slightest bit fooled by his phony charm. That included umpire Lou Coles, who hated Durocher.

I remember one exhibition game where Coles and Durocher came face-to-face. Something happened on the field that resulted in a controversial play. I forget what it was-whether it was a ball or strike call or a play at second base or something else. Whatever it was, Durocher charged Coles.

Coles stood up and said, "Get away from me you goddamn pickpocket. Don't speak to me."

I thought they were going to have to drag Durocher off the field in a straitjacket, he went so crazy. He jumped up and down, screaming and hollering. I thought he was going to haul off and hit Coles right there on the field.

"Get the hell away from me," Coles hollered at Durocher. "If you want to take a shot at me I'll be under the stands waiting for you." Of course, Durocher never went under the stands to meet him.

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