The bat dog is restless. The first inning’s running long, so Donald Moore, who owns both her and the Greensboro Grasshoppers, is entertaining her under the stands. He throws a baseball. She fetches. He pets her. She scratches her back on a patch of AstroTurf. For more than 600 straight games, this is what Miss Babe Ruth has been up to: hanging out, waiting to take balls to the umpire, to retrieve bats, and to run the bases postgame.
The black Lab is now 10. This is her last season. Two understudies, Miss Lou Lou Gehrig and Master Yogi Berra, will take her place. But for now, she has a job to do. After the third out, the gate to the field opens. Miss Babe Ruth grabs a bucket of baseballs, trots out to the umpire, drops the bucket at his feet, gets a treat, and returns the bucket. Innings, like seasons, always end. But Miss Babe Ruth will always be a good girl.
As she has since August 2006, Miss Babe Ruth will serve as the Greensboro Grasshoppers’ bat dog at every home game this season. Look for her during the first, third, and fifth innings, and at the end of each game, when she runs the bases. Celebrate Miss Babe Ruth’s retirement at the last Saturday game of the season, on August 29 at 7 p.m.
In North Carolina, spring brings the scent of fresh-cut grass and memories of helping Dad mow the lawn.
Nostalgic burger joints are like time machines, delivering something extra special that keeps us coming back.
This tiny city block in downtown Greensboro once had a gigantic reputation. Not so much for its charbroiled beef patties — though they, too, were plentiful — but for its colorful characters and their wild shenanigans.
In the 1950s, as Americans hit freshly paved roads in shiny new cars during the postwar boom, a new kind of restaurant took shape: the drive-in. From those first thin patties to the elaborate gourmet hamburgers of today, North Carolina has spent the past 80 years making burger history.
