Hey, Now, What's That Sound?

Here's a piece from Jim Coleman's column (reprinted in the Lethbridge Herald) of May 17, 1951. It deals with rabid rooters and starts with Hilda Chester in Brooklyn. Then, it mentions the Western International League.

Take the case of Joe North, a veteran baseball devotee in Victoria, B.C. A couple of years ago, Joseph sued the Victoria Baseball Club because the management refused to admit him to the game. The management contended that North's vocal manifestations of approval and disapproval disturbed other spectators in the grandstand. Specifically, Joseph was charged with uttering a hideous sound described as “The Bronx Cheer.”
The case was tried before a dignified jurist of the British Supreme Court, who, puzzled by the nature of the evidence, requested Mr. North to give a demonstration of his art. Beaming proudly, Mr. North arose In the witness box, took a deep breath, pursed his lips and obliged with the grand-daddy of all Bronx Cheers.
His Lordship reeled backward in his chair. Visibly shaken, he adjourned the court and fled to his chambers, looking back fearfully at Mr. North who was taking bows from the witness box. Mr. North's suit was dismissed when His Lordship had regained his composure.
• • • •
The evidence revealed that Mr. North had another little pecularity. He took large quantities of home-made sandwiches to each game. He would pass through the stands pressing these sandwiches.
One of the witnesses who testified against him was a waiter from the Empress Hotel. Witness contended that North's offers of sandwichs were annoying and offensive.
“Did you ever accept one of these sandwiches?” counsel asked.
“Certainly not,” sniffed the witness. “I work at the Empress and I eat only the very best food.”
Personally, we find it hard to understand why Mr. North was discriminated against for distributing home-made sandwiches unless, of course, he was cutting into the profits of the concessionaires who sell, the frankfurters and coffee. We remember a prominent Vancouver gentleman who arrived at all baseball games, carrying a large wicker picnic-basket packed with sandwiches and hard boiled eggs. Perhaps they have barred him, too.