The most poignant telling of this bat’s provenance comes in an accompanying letter from the daughter of Bing Russell, it's former owner. Jill Franco Russell's letter, attested to and signed by her brother, movie actor Kurt Russell and her son, former Major Leaguer Matt Franco reads as follows;
When my Dad was 9 years old, Lefty Gomez, who was like a grandfather to all of us Russell kids, took Dad in to Joe McCarthy's office and said, "This is Bing Russell. He'll be with us from now on." Us, was the 1935 New York Yankees. McCarthy, in his usual grouchy manner, glared at my Dad and grunted. From then on, Dad did his best to stay clear of McCarthy and his strict dugout rule - NO FOOD ALLOWED.
Dad quickly became a master smuggler of peanuts and hot dogs. The guys would give him money and Joe DiMaggio's jacket, because it was so big, and send him out every day. He was scared to death of crossing McCarthy, but he'd do anything for the players. So back he'd come with the jacket stuffed full of bags of peanuts. The team fell in love with this boy who loved baseball, ran around the field shagging balls all day, and tirelessly played pepper with them. They constantly played practical jokes on him and struck fear into him when they imitated McCarthy screaming about how there would be hell to pay if he saw any more peanut shells on the dugout floor.
For eight years, my Dad was a fixture in the Yankees' dugout during Spring Training and the six World Series they played in during that time. He accompanied the team on many road trips, and Lefty used to say that, "Bing was the only person who took it harder than I did when I lost." All of the players befriended him and paid him pocket change to run errands and perform clubhouse duties for them.
Although Lou Gehrig was always very kind to my Dad, and ruffled his hair whenever he walked by, Dad never dared speak to him or joke around with him like he did the other players, because he was in awe of Gehrig above all others.
By Spring Training 1939, every time Gehrig hit, the entire dugout held it's breath. They all knew something was terribly wrong, but nobody ever gave any indication, even amongst themselves, that anything was amiss. I can remember my Dad saying that Lefty would shoot him a terrifying look whenever Gehrig stumbled or dropped his towel in the clubhouse. As if to say, "Don't move a muscle. You did not see that." Dad said the power in Gehrig's body even at that time of his life was mesmerizing, he said he was massive and moved like a panther.
But Gehrig was having a great day in one particular pre-season game in 1939. When he hit his second home run of the day, the team was ecstatic, they all wanted so desperately for him to do well. My Dad ran to the dugout steps in his excitement to watch Lou run the bases. He saw the bat boy pick up the bat where Gehrig had dropped it and show it to him when he crossed the plate. It was broken at the handle. Lou Gehrig handed the bat to my Dad when he got back to the dugout, "Here, Kid."
Lou Gehrig never hit another home run. My Dad showed that bat to hundreds and hundreds of ballplayers and baseball fans who visited him through the years. It was always known as "Lou Gehrig's last home run bat." We have since learned that it was one of the last four bats Gehrig ordered in 1938 during his last full season as a Yankee.
I can still see my Dad's Yankee bats leaning against the corner of his closet. He would bring them out when he was telling his "Yankee stories." Everyone would pass them around and marvel at how incredibly heavy they were. We'd read every signature on the '41 DiMaggio bat that Joe had given him, and listen again to the stories full of all those great Yankee names, Frankie Crosetti, Phil Rizzuto, Red Ruffing, Bill Dickey, Joe Gordon, George Selkirk, Tommy Henrich, Charlie Keller, Babe Dahlgren. My Dad had a story about all of them. We never got tired of hearing the Yankee stories and it was even better when Lefty was in town, because he had a never ending supply of funny baseball stories. My brother and sisters and I would sit and listen and laugh for as long as they would talk baseball. But the best was when Dad would tell the story of how Gehrig gave him the bat, with barely a word, and Lefty would say quietly, "Lou loved Bing." And it was plain that Lefty loved both of them.
The 1941 Joe DiMaggio bat that accompanies this letter was given to my father, Bing Russell, by Joe DiMaggio during a team celebration after the Yankees won the World Series that year. Many members of the team signed the bat for my father. We have learned that the bat shows evidence of having been used by DiMaggio during his signature 1941 season when he hit safely in a record 56 consecutive games.
JILL RUSSELL FRANCO
October 10, 2011
This incredible 36", 36 oz. (as stamped on the knob) H&B model D29L bat shows evidence of heavy use with a handle crack. Many ball marks and ball stitch impressions are visible on the right and left barrel. Also visible on the bat are red and green bat rack streaks. The bat's manufacturing date, per factory records, has been pinpointed between August 24th 1940 and the spring of 1941. Furthermore, the bat has been signed by more than 30 members of the 1941 New York Yankees. Many of the signatures are faint (ranging from illegible to 5/10), but among those clearly legible are Gomez, Dickey, McCarthey, Ruffing and several players whose lone season with the Yankees occurred in 1941, such as John Sturm, Frenchy Bordagaray and Steve Peek. DiMaggio’s signature is not discernable. Faintly written below the centerbrand in an unknown hand is “New York Yankees 1941”.
This Joe DiMaggio bat has been a treasured heirloom in the family of Bing Russell. Its provenance is carried on by his daughter Jill, his famous son Kurt Russell and his grandson (former major leaguer) Matt Franco, all of whom grew up with the bat and have documented their remembrance. Their signed letters of provenance accompany the bat.