Below is the Washington Post article from the next day, summing up the day, honoring the hero’s 22-year career.

The count is three and two on the Mighty Man of Baseball.

Tonight he will be out–out of the regular line-up for one of the few times in his 22-year career, but. nevertheless, his last.

The crowd at Griffith Stadium will rise as one and cheer him, and it will be “curtains” for the Mighty Man who has made his name synonymous  with the very game he so helped to build into the massive business it is today.

It is hard to write of the final game of Babe Ruth. It always is hard to write of the passing of great men.

It is safe to say the Babe will never be a has-been. He may, years and years from now, be forgotten, but a has-been, never.

This afternoon, in the final game of the season, the Babe will make his last great stand. The Yankees and the Nats will play a sort of finishing-out-the-schedule routine. There are not many who care who wins. But there are many who care whether of not the Babe will be there–and he will. In all his glory. He may not slam a home run. He may even strike out, but still they’ll cheer him.

During the afternoon a group of Washingtonians, including Clark Griffith president of the Nats will present Ruth with a scroll that it is hoped will go a long way toward making he Might Man remember that he will always have friends.

All the kids in town, who can, will be there. They’ll look at the Mighty Man with eyes of envy, watch his every move, and then later in the evening go home, never to forget the day as long as they live.

In every city, town and vicinity in America the kids know who Babe Ruth is, know that he can hit the longest home run, know that he is the greatest guy in the world. And they know why, too. He is their pal, your pal, and my pal.