Regular Season
On opening day, Babe Ruth was part of all of the Braves' runs in a 4-2 win over the New York Giants. However, Ruth was only a shadow of his former self, as years of high living had made a shambles of his conditioning. He couldn't run, and his fielding was so terrible that three of the Braves' pitchers threatened to go on strike if Ruth were in the lineup. A month into the season, Ruth stopped hitting as well. It soon became obvious that Ruth's titles as vice president and assistant manager were mere window dressing, and that he was only on the team due to the attention he commanded. He also discovered that rather than give him a share of the Braves' profits, Fuchs expected him to invest some of his money in the team.
Seeing a team in utter collapse and realizing he was finished as a player, Ruth retired on June 1, six days after he had had what remains one of the most memorable afternoons in baseball history. He clouted what turned out to be the last three home runs of his career in a game at Forbes Field while playing the Pittsburgh Pirates. He'd wanted to quit as early as May 12, but Fuchs wanted him to hang on so he could play in every National League park. Fuchs lost control of the team soon afterward.
Despite fielding essentially the same team that finished fourth a year earlier, the 1935 season quickly turned into a debacle. In fact, their Opening Day win was the only time they were over .500 all year. The Braves finished 38-115, the worst season in franchise history. Their .248 winning percentage is the third-worst in baseball history (behind only the 1899 Cleveland Spiders and 1916 Philadelphia Athletics) and the second-worst in modern baseball history. During the season, Braves pitcher Ben Cantwell would be the last pitcher in the 20th century to lose at least 25 games in one season.
Read more about this topic: 1935 Boston Braves Season
Famous quotes containing the words regular and/or season:
“This is the frost coming out of the ground; this is Spring. It precedes the green and flowery spring, as mythology precedes regular poetry. I know of nothing more purgative of winter fumes and indigestions. It convinces me that Earth is still in her swaddling-clothes, and stretches forth baby fingers on every side.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“As every season seems best to us in its turn, so the coming in of spring is like the creation of Cosmos out of Chaos and the realization of the Golden Age.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)