When Girls Ruled Baseball

N1: Georgia, Florence, and Jennie are playing catch in Georgia’s backyard.

Florence: Georgia Baskin is on the mound! She winds up, and here’s the pitch!

N2: Georgia pitches the ball to Jennie.

Jennie (catching the ball): Youch!

Georgia: Sorry, Jen! Just tryin’ out my fastball.

Jennie: Must be Frankie’s mitt. It gives you special powers.

Georgia: Those special powers won’t protect me if Frankie catches me using it.

Florence: How did Frankie get Joe DiMaggio to sign it?

Historian 1: Joe DiMaggio was the most famous baseball player in America during the 1940s.

Georgia: Dad was visiting his brother in New York City. He went to Yankee Stadium and waited in the rain for Joe to appear.

Jennie: Frankie is so lucky!

Georgia: Dad should have given the mitt to me. I’m the one who loves baseball.

Historian 2: In the 1940s, women did not have the same opportunities as men. Women could not play on professional sports teams, and it was very difficult for female athletes like Georgia to be taken seriously.

Florence: Here comes Frankie.

Jennie: Uh-oh. Let’s scoot, Flo!

N3: Georgia’s friends rush away as Frankie charges into the yard.

Frankie: What did I tell you about taking my mitt?!

N1: Georgia throws the baseball in the air so high it seems to disappear into the clouds. She lines up the mitt to catch it, but Frankie yanks the mitt off her hand.

N2: The ball falls to the ground in a cloud of dust.

Frankie: Real girls don’t play in the dirt. 

N3: As the Baskins sit down to dinner, Frankie complains about Georgia.

Frankie: I’ve told her a million times not to use my mitt!

Mr. Baskin: Georgia, I’ve told you that you should be helping your mother after school.

Mrs. Baskin: Georgia had finished her chores.

Frankie: Take it again and I’ll . . .

Mr. Baskin: Enough! Don’t we have more important worries than some baseball mitt?

N1: The Baskins finish their dinner in silence. Afterward, Georgia helps her mother with the dishes.

Georgia: I’m sorry.

Mrs. Baskin: They’re not really so upset with you, dear. They’re just tense. The news isn’t good over in Europe.

Historian 1: World War II had erupted. Germany had invaded and conquered much of Europe.

Historian 2: Any day, America would go to war.

Georgia (quietly): Will Frankie have to fight?

Mrs. Baskin: Yes, I believe he will.

Mr. Wrigley: Gentlemen, let’s face facts. Our country is at war. Our best men are on the battlefields, not on the baseball diamonds. All the biggest stars have enlisted: Hank Greenberg, Ted Williams . . .

Historian 1: By 1943, America was fighting Germany and Japan.

Historian 2: More than 9 million American men were in the armed forces—

Historian 1: —including half of all Major League Baseball players.

Mr. Meyerhoff: Sir, President Roosevelt himself told us baseball is important for Americans, especially now. Times are tough. We need something to cheer about.

Mr. Wrigley: Exactly my thinking. That’s why I want to start a new league—a girls’ league. We’ll find the best girl players in the country, make up a few teams, and let ’em play ball.

Mr. Meyerhoff: You really think Americans want to see their girls chewing tobacco and cursing at umpires?

Mr. Wrigley: Oh, we’ll make sure they behave like ladies. We’ll dress ’em up in fetching uniforms. Send ’em to charm school
if need be.

Mr. Meyerhoff: Brilliant. They’ll look like ladies—but they’ll play ball like gentlemen.

Mr. Wrigley: Mark my words: Americans will love this.

Jennie: Georgia, you’re a star! Did you hear your mother screaming for you in the stands?

Georgia: It’s nice to see her smiling. She’s so worried about Frankie that she rarely smiles anymore.

Jennie: Have you heard from him since he was deployed?

Georgia: We only get scraps of news.

Florence: At least you have his Joe DiMaggio mitt. It’s bringing you luck.

Jennie: Flo! What a thing to say. Georgia doesn’t care about the mitt.

Florence: I meant as a way to think of her brother.

Georgia: I don’t have the mitt anymore. I sent it to Frankie. I just hope he gets it.

Jennie: That’s big of you, Georgia.

Florence: He won’t have time to play baseball—not on a battleship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Georgia: Maybe the mitt will bring him luck.

N2: Florence and Jennie leave. Georgia is collecting her gear when two men walk up to her.

Mr. Larkin: Georgia Baskin, right?

Georgia: Yes.

Mr. McDonald: You’ve got quite an arm.

Georgia: Thanks.

Mr. Larkin: I’m Bill Larkin, and this here’s Joe McDonald. We’re talent scouts for a new ball league—
a girls’ league, 100 percent professional.

Mr. McDonald: It’s going to be run by Mr. Philip Wrigley himself.

Mr. Larkin: (handing Georgia a slip of paper): This flyer explains all the details. Tryouts are in Medford this weekend, and we would like you to come. If we like you, we’ll send you to a final tryout in Chicago.

Mr. McDonald: Think about it, will you?

Georgia (elated): I certainly will!

Mrs. Baskin: I’m sending another package to Frankie tomorrow. Is there anything you two want to add?

Mr. Baskin: I picked up a football magazine for him.

Georgia: I want to write a letter to him about the new baseball league.

Mr. Baskin: A new league?

N3: Georgia takes the paper from her pocket and smooths it out. Mrs. Baskin picks it up.

Mrs. Baskin: A girls’ league! Isn’t that something! Girls playing like professionals!

Georgia: Two scouts from the league came to my game today. They said I had talent and I should try out.

Mr. Baskin (scoffing): Nobody wants to watch girls try to play baseball.

Mrs. Baskin: They certainly line up to see Georgia pitch at the high school games. She’s amazing.

Mr. Baskin: Georgia is 16 years old. She’s

not going to traipse around the Midwest in some kind of carnival!

Georgia: Excuse me. I, uh, I have a terrible headache.

N1: Georgia gets up and goes to her room dejectedly.

Mr. Baskin: Girls playing baseball? If only Frank could hear this. He’d have a good laugh!

Mrs. Baskin: Women are working in factories. Women are building airplanes and ships and guns. Nobody says that’s nonsense.

Mr. Baskin: That’s different. Those women are helping us win the war.

Mrs. Baskin: These are dark times. Every day, the newspapers tell us just how precarious things are. If our daughter has a chance to live her dream, I want her to take it.

Mr. Baskin: But she’s so young.

Mrs. Baskin: So is Frank. And he’s at war.

Mr. Baskin: All right. If you want to let our girl go, I won’t stop her. 

N2: Georgia aces her tryout in Medford—she’s a complete natural.

N3: She is invited to Chicago for the final selection.

N1: In Chicago, Georgia joins more than 250 young women trying out for just 60 spots among the league’s four teams.

N2: After fielding trials, Georgia sits on a bench next to another girl.

Georgia: Hi, I’m Georgia Baskin.

Sophie: I’m Sophie Kurys. Have you been watching some of these girls? They are amazing.

Georgia: From what I saw, you are one of the best.

Sophie: Thanks. You know, I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life.

N3: Georgia smiles.

Georgia: Me neither.

N1: Finally, after three grueling days of tryouts, final selections are made.

N2: Georgia calls home with news.

Georgia: Mom! I made it! I’m on the Racine Belles! I’m going to be a professional baseball player!

Mrs. Baskin: Oh, Georgia . . .

Georgia: What’s the matter?

Mrs. Baskin: We got a telegram. It’s Frank.

Georgia: What happened?

Mrs. Baskin: He’s been injured. There was an explosion on his ship. Four boys were killed. He is in a hospital in Hawaii. And . . . they don’t know if he’ll . . .

Georgia: I’m coming home.

Mrs. Baskin: No, you stay where you are. You will take this opportunity and make the most of it. Do you understand?

Georgia: Yes, Mom. Yes, I think I do. 

Announcer 1: That’s it, folks—another electrifying game between our own Racine Belles and the ferocious Rockford Peaches!

Announcer 2: We had some big plays. Sophie Kurys stole three bases.

Announcer 1: And we had solid relief pitching by youngster Georgia Baskin.

Announcer 2: Let’s have a cheer for the teams!

Announcer 1: God bless America and God bless our troops!

N3: The crowd cheers.

N1: After the game, Georgia and her teammates gather in the locker room.

Sophie: I’ve never had so much fun!

Georgia: When you stole home, my heart jumped out of my chest!

Sophie: They almost nabbed me!

N2: When Georgia leaves the locker room, she is shocked to find her parents waiting outside.

Georgia: Mom? Dad? Oh no! Has something happened to Frankie?

Mrs. Baskin: No, no, he’s fine. They’ve transferred him to San Francisco.

Mr. Baskin: You were wonderful out there, Georgia.

N3: Mr. Baskin reaches into his bag.

Mr. Baskin: Frank sent something home for you. He asked me to deliver it myself.

Georgia: The DiMaggio mitt! I knew it would bring him luck.

Mr. Baskin: Look at it, Georgia. Do you notice anything different about it?

N1: Georgia studies the mitt intently. Then her face lights up.

Mr. Baskin: Mr. DiMaggio is in the Army too. Turns out he is stationed in San Francisco. He paid a visit to Frank’s hospital, and Frank got him to sign the mitt—again. For you.

Georgia (reading): “To Georgia Baskin, a fellow pro. Keep playing in the dirt, Joe DiMaggio.”

N2: Mr. Baskin gives Georgia a hug.

Mr. Baskin (whispering): I am so proud of you. 

This play was originally published in the March 2016 issue