By Sam B.

Since I came over from Ireland in April of 1923 when I was 13, I have loved the game of baseball and specifically the New York Yankees. How could I not root for the Yankees especially in 1923? They had Babe Ruth and a rookie kid named Lou Gehrig. They had a new stadium they named after themselves: Yankee Stadium which is today known as the House that Ruth Built. But probably the most exciting part of that 1923 team was that they won their first championship and not only that, they did it by beating the cross town Giants.

I was lucky enough to be one of the 74,000 people in attendance on April 18 of 1923 to watch the first game played in Yankee Stadium. In that game I was also lucky enough to see the first home run hit in Yankee Stadium, hit by none other then the Babe himself. We beat the Boston Red Sox 4-1. How did a thirteen year old boy just off the boat from Ireland get the chance to see this game? A little luck I guess.

Although, when I left home, Enniskerry, Ireland, I did not feel lucky at all. My father had died in combat in October of 1918. My mother never got over his death and it wasnāt so much that heād died, but when he died: just a month before the Great War ended. I was eight at the time and as much as we needed the money, my mother would not let me work. She told me I had to go to school and wouldnāt let me argue. I was never sure how she put food on the table, I never saw her work. I always assumed she worked while I was at school and never thought to ask otherwise. It wasnāt until the winter of 1922-23 when I found out where the money came from.

In Ī22 my mother caught a cold, then it became a flu, then it be came pneumonia and in February of 1923 she went the way of my father and left me alone. Or so I thought.

After she passed, I went to live with family friends, the Brownās, just north of Enniskerry in Dublin. I continued going to school there, but even at twelve, I could see an extra mouth to feed was one too many for the Brownās, who already had two children and themselves.

It was the end of March when I learned of my Fatherās brother James, or Jimmy as everyone called him. Heād been in New York since 1914. He left Enniskerry because of a fight heād had with my Father. I guess the fight was two pronged. First, Uncle Jimmy didnāt think it was right that my Father was going to join up and leave my Mother and myself even if he was going to send army pay checks. Uncle Jimmy pointed out that those pay checks would stop coming if he died but my Father would hear none of it. And second, and most importantly for my Uncle was that with the departure of my Father, Uncle Jimmy was going to lose his job. The brothers were partners in a grocery business. My Father was on the business side, ordering the products and managing the money. My Uncle was on the sales side, selling the products, and keeping the customers happy. Uncle Jimmy was great at keeping the customers happy and coming back. He was an unusually friendly and congenial guy, even for an Irishman but unfortunately, did not know the first thing about the business side and knew that if my Father ever left, the grocery would not be able to survive.

So, days before my Father left for war, my Uncle left for New York. He apparently got a good job there but I wouldnāt find out what that was until later. Uncle Jimmy and my Father had apparently forgiven each other in a letter correspondence throughout the war and when my father died, he began sending money to my Mother, partly as a ćjokeä to tell my late Father ćI told you soä, partly as a continued apology to him, and partly because he had enough money to afford to send some to us.

So, when my Uncle found out my Mother died, he sent for me. The Brownās, as much as they loved me, were all to happy to get rid of me, and I knew I should go. Uncle Jimmy paid for all the transportation and on April first I arrived in New York greeted by Uncle Jimmy.

I did not know until later how lucky I was to have skipped Ellis Island. Uncle Jimmy had enough money so that I was able to be checked on the ship and let off right in New York City. It was hard enough to get into the United States: in 1921 Congress had passed the Emergency Quota Act which limited the number of immigrants from any country in any year to three percent of the number of people of that nationality residing in the United States in 1910. Thankfully there were a great number of northern Europeans here in 1910 and therefore a larger quota assigned to us. But in 1924, the year after I got here, Congress made it even harder to get in lowering the number of immigrant allowed to 165,000 per year. So I just made it, although Uncle Jimmy may have had something to do with that too.

We went to his house in Brooklyn. He lived on Dekalb and Knickbocker in an Italian and Jewish neighborhood, but was accepted none-the-less (or at least for the time being).

Almost right away I found out why Uncle Jimmy had money to spare: peanuts! He had come over from Ireland and landed in the peanut business. How do you come over from Ireland and start a peanut business? Well, like I said, Uncle Jimmy didnāt know the first thing about managing a business, so, when he tried to start a grocery store in Brooklyn, it was simply luck that he was able to negotiate the purchase of a small store front with a small backyard. Now he had the space, he had to sell something out of it. He found food wholesalers and thought he placed orders with them. Apparently though he didnāt (that part, even he couldnāt explain what he did wrong). But he did get a free peanut plant from one of the companies as a token of their appreciation for doing business with them (even though it seemed he didnāt). He tried to order food again and this time got a dozen boxes of bananas and another peanut plant (from the same company). He sold the bananas and ordered some more and some apples and got another peanut plant with them. By this time the first two peanut plants were doing quite well in the backyard, but Uncle Jimmy didnāt really know what to do with them. The next time he placed an order with the whole sale company he asked what he should do with the peanuts. They seemed a little confuse and denied sending a peanut plants but where kind enough to recommend that he should sell them too.

Well, he didnāt get his delivery that week (probably the order got lost in the peanut confusion). Without anything to sell he bagged the few peanuts he had an tried selling them. People bought and came back for more, which he didnāt have and, unfortunately, by the end of the month, the peanut plants died. Uncle Jimmy found out you canāt grow peanuts in New York, they come from Georgia. But by that time, heād been able to finally get regular orders and establish his grocery store as one of the best in the neighborhood. But he was still amazed at the success that the few peanuts heād sold had had.

He called a wholesale peanut company recommended to him by his still-bewildered wholesale fruit supplier and placed an order. The peanuts arrived the next week and within a day, he was sold out. The next week he order double and they sold out in a day as well. The next week he ordered more and started labeling the bags with his store name. As many peanuts as he ordered, he was able to sell. Eventually he stopped ordering all other foods ö partly to make space for the peanuts and partly so that he didnāt have to deal with the weird fruit supplier. The next year he was able to move to a bigger space. Two years after that, 1917, he was able to move into Manhattan at 156th street and 8th avenue, only a block from the Polo Grounds.

Being the adventurous, inquisitive, and fun-loving guy that Uncle Jimmy was, he wanted to know what baseball was all about. Almost everyday in spring and summer, people would pour into the Polo Grounds to see either the Giants or the Yankees play. The games did wonders for business. Everyday before and after the game hundreds of people would cram into the store and buy peanuts by the dozens. Well, Uncle Jimmy had to know what it was all about. So, one day after the pregame business he grabbed a two dozen bag of peanuts off the shelf and closed up shop. He knew it would hurt the post game business but he wandered over to the stadium anyway. He was able to swap a few peanuts for a ticket with one of the guys in the box office who was a regular at the store.

That day happened to be a day when the Yankees were the home team at the Polo Grounds. They were playing host to the Boston Red Sox. Uncle Jimmy entered the stadium just in time to see the Red Soxās pitcher, Babe Ruth, hit a double off Ray Caldwell, the Yankeeās ace at the time. As the ball hit Ruthās bat, Uncle Jimmy says things seemed to slow down for him. He stood there mesmerized as the ball flew off Ruthās bat. He watched as the outfielders hurried toward the balls landing point, almost straight away center field. His breath was taken away my the beautiful expanse of green grass. His focus moved to the runner, Ruth, as he rumbled around first base and on to second. He was amazed by the speed and accuracy of which the Yankeeās outfielder Elmer Miller was able to throw the ball into the glove of second baseman Fritz Maisel. He was awe-struck as we watched Ruth slide under Maiselās tag. He almost couldnāt move with joy as the dust cleared and Ruth was called safe by the umpire with a tremendous bellow and a flamboyant sweep of his arms. He was hooked!

It may have been the Red Sox that hooked him on baseball, but it was the Yankees who he would root for for the rest of his life. He watched the rest of the game in almost the same comatose state, taking as much in as he could. The Yankeeās won the game 4-1. He walked slowly back to the store after the game trying to fathom the joy he had for what he had just seen. He knew he had to go back the next day. He knew it would cut down a little on income, but he felt the pregame business alone was gold-mine enough. He went to the games for the whole next week until the Yanks left town again. He thought about going to see the Giants play but figured it was the Yankees whoād introduced him to baseball and heād stay loyal to them and decided he still could make a buck off the Giants post game business.

On the night right before the Yankees returned to town, as he was closing up shop, a well dressed man came hurrying down the street holding his arm in the air and motioning for Uncle Jimmy to stop. The man wanted to buy a bag of peanuts for his niece. Uncle Jimmy didnāt have anywhere in particular to go, so he opened up the shop again and let the man in. The man explained that his niece was in from the south and had never seen a professional baseball game before. He wanted to buy some peanuts for her for the game, but wanted to be the pregame crowd he knew there would be the next day. The man explained that heād been buying peanuts from my Uncle before every game that season (although my Uncle had not noticed him). The man told Uncle Jimmy that it was now his tradition to eat peanuts during every game and refused to sit through a game with out eating at least a dozen. Uncle Jimmy was flattered. In fact, he would not let the man pay for the peanuts. He insisted on giving him three dozen for free. At first the man said he could not possibly take such a gift but Uncle Jimmy with his salesman attitude convince the man to take them. The man was ecstatic. He introduced himself to my Uncle. His name was Col. Jacob Ruppert. Then it was my Uncles turn to be ecstatic. He couldnāt believe he was talking to the part owner of his beloved Yankees. He couldnāt restrain his joy. He told Col. Ruppert how much heād enjoyed watching the Yankees play, how he couldnāt get enough of them. He told the Colonel how he closed his shop to go to the games because, even though it hurt the business a little, he had to have his fill of Yankees baseball.

Well, it was about then in the conversation that Col. Ruppert had finished his first bag of peanuts and was moving to the second (he had forgotten about his niece). As he opened the second bag, an idea sprung out of it and into both their heads almost simultaneously (or so my Uncle tells it). The Colonel blurted out ćwouldnāt it be great if a person could buy peanuts while watching the game?ä At the same time, my Uncle yelled ćI wish I could sell peanuts and watch the game at the same time.ä The peanutman was born. They stared at each other for a moment. Then, they started hopping around like little children. When they had calmed down my Uncle rummaged through some garbage until he found an empty crate. He put a rope on the crate, put it around his neck, and filled the thing with bags of peanuts. He put a price on the front: 2¢/dozen. Col. Ruppert and my Uncle decided that Uncle Jimmy could go to all the Yankee games he wanted and sell all the peanuts he wanted, as long as the Colonel could get a free three dozen a game.

The next day he was a smash success. The problem was he could only sell what he could carry. The next week he solved this problem: he brought extra crates full of peanuts to the park before the game. When one crate sold out, heād grab another. This system worked quite well and he used it for the rest of the season. Unfortunately the Yanks didnāt do as well as Uncle Jimmy they finished sixth in the league with a 71-82 mark.

Starting in the 1918 season, Uncle Jimmy only used his shop for the off season and for Giants games. He didnāt even open his shop for Yankee home games. And this is what he did for the next four seasons. The Yanks also got consistently better.

On January 3 of 1920, Uncle Jimmy was excited to learn, from Col. Ruppert himself, that the Yankees had purchased Babe Ruth from the Red Sox. It was Babe Ruth who he had watch get the first hit heād ever seen, and now he was going to get to root for him. In Ruthās second season with the Yankees, they won the American League pennant but lost to the Giants in the World Series.

In April of the Ī22 season, Ruppert told Uncle Jimmy that a new stadium was going to be built for the Yankee to call their own. It would be right a cross the Harlem River. Col. Ruppert invited Uncle Jimmy to move with them. Uncle Jimmy accepted. He would retained the Manhattan store front, but during the Yankee games he would move some of his product a cross the bridge and into the stadium. In May of the same month, Col. Ruppert bought out his counter-part and became the sole owner of the Yankees.

As the 1923 season was about to start and Yankee Stadium was weeks away from opening, Uncle Jimmy found out about my motherās death and on April first I arrived. To this day I am not sure if Uncle Jimmy brought me over because he loved me and wanted a better life for me, or because he wanted me to help him sell peanuts at the new ballpark. Which ever one it was, I certainly sold peanuts. And this is how I was at the opening game in Yankee Stadium.

On April 18, 1923, with a crate of peanuts around my neck, I watched Babe Ruth hit a home run down the right field line and, just like my Uncle, I was hooked forever. I couldnāt believe the power. I watch Ruth trot around the bases. I watched as he stepped on home plate and shook hands with some of his teammates. I listen to the crowd roar. I was instantly enchanted with everything and anything relating to baseball. The Yanks beat the Red Sox in that game 4-1.

I got to go to every Yankee home game that season, albeit, I had to sell peanuts at every game, but I did get to watch the Yanks put together their first ever World Championship season. I watched them finally beat the Giants. In fact, Col. Ruppert pulled a string for my Uncle and I and we got seats at the Polo Grounds to watch game six. We didnāt even have to sell peanuts, we could watch without distraction. It was an awesome game: Ruth hit a home run and the Yanks won 6-4!

That night my Uncle and I went back to his Brooklyn house just like we did every night. But that night was different. We caught all sorts of comments as we walked the short distance from the subway to the house. Everyone had something bad to say about the Yanks and some people added special comments about our mothers. It was only then that it occurred to me that everyone in Brooklyn was a Dodgers fan. As bad as the Dodgers always were, Brooklynites loved them as much or more then I loved my World Champion Yankees.

Of course, being that I was only 13, I had to go to school. And I went during the off season. I went to a school in Brooklyn, where, when word got around I was a Yankee fan, my life was made pretty miserable. I got beat up almost daily, I was called names, and even some of the faculty didnāt like me. Then, one day, I brought in a bag of two dozen peanuts. Of course, they were stolen from me even before my first class. Later in the day, I was approach by some of the kids who usually beat me up. I prepared myself for getting kicked. But instead of pushing me to the ground, they told me how cool it was that I was the sole peanut vendor at Yankee Stadium. Somehow word of this fact had gotten around, probably the same way everyone knew I was a Yankees fan. People thought it was cool that I got to go to every game of the year. They started thanking me for beating their rival Giants. And most of all, they wanted peanuts.

I started bringing in three dozen daily (three dozen was nothing to Uncle Jimmy, he could make it back in a half an hour). The three dozen would be demolished before class. People would greet me at the doors of the school just to get one. While it might seem like they were using me for my peanuts, after a while people became genuinely friendly. They got to know me, I got to know them, and by the end of the year I was one of the boys: I went around kissing girls and beat up Giants fans.

When the Yankee season started back up again, my Uncle and I started back up our daily trips to the Bronx again. The Yanks finished second that year and seventh the year after. But starting in 1926 they went 39 straight seasons with only one finish below third place (they finished fourth in Ī45). They won 26 league championships and 19 world championships in that time.

Uncle Jimmy died when I was 33 at a ripe old age. Iād already pretty much been running the business for ten years, so, when Uncle Jimmy left it to me, my experience and my Columbia University business degree where more then enough to allow me to keep the business going strong.

In 1945, the Yanks were purchased from the estate of Col. Ruppert. I was, of course, invited to stay as sole peanut vendor at Yankee stadium. By this time though, I had all sorts of people working for me. When the Giant moved to San Francisco in Ī58, I sold the store front by the Polo Grounds. When CBS bought the team in Ī68, they too kept me on as the sole peanut vender to Yankee stadium. And, in Ī73, when George M. Steinbrenner and his partners bought the team, they to retained my serviced. When the Yankees moved to Shea for the Ī74 and Ī75 seasons, Steinbrenner personally invited me to sell peanuts at Shea, too (somehow he was able to get around the Metsā peanut contract but I didn't ask any questions). We moved back to Yankee Stadium in Ī76. And in Ī83 I sold the business to a man named Houston Brisson (owner of todayās Yankee peanuts: Houstonās) and retired.

Now, at the age of 91, I sit next to George Steinbrenner in the owners box watching the Yankees play the Red Sox in Yankee Stadium. Steinbrenner is eating a bag of peanuts. I donāt want any, I hate the darn things.