Ty Cobb website (claims to be “official”)
[. . .] Cobb spoke of why he was constantly on the warpath up north: “I get into a lot of trouble and have made many enemies. But my philosophy is brief. I think life is too short to be diplomatic. A man’s friends shouldn’t mind what he does or says — and those who are not his friends, well, the hell with them. They don’t count.”
— Cobb: The Life and Times of the Meanest Man Who Ever Played Baseball by Al Stump; pg. 237
Nobody was with him at 1:20 P.M. on July 17, 1961, when he died, five months short of the age of seventy-five. Emory announced that death was “peaceful.” Insiders said that he looked ghastly.
His foremost rival, Babe Ruth, had died in 1948 and an estimated quarter of a million people filed by his coffin at Yankee Stadium. The beloved Babe packed St. Patrick’s Cathedral and every major-league club was represented at the two-day services. Ty Cobb drew just three men from big-league ball to his funeral. They were Mickey Cochrane, old-time catcher Ray Schalk, and Nap Rucker from his minor-league days. Other than these and several hundred Little Leaguers of the Royston area north of Atlanta who lined the path to his twelve-foot-high marble mausoleum, the funeral of the most shrewd, inventive, lurid, detested, mysterious, and superb of all baseball players went unattended by any official representative of the game at which he excelled.
— Cobb: The Life and Times of the Meanest Man Who Ever Played Baseball by Al Stump; pg. 420
Those bastards. Babe Ruth was a fat bag of shit.
And no, I’m not a baseball fan.