(October 4, 1948)

In a year like 1948, a handful of indispensable "old pros" stand out like Gullivers among the Lilliputians. Each of the top teams in the American League race has one.

With the New York Yankees, it is Joe DiMaggio. He had only missed one game all season, and he was leading the big parade in baseball's most spectacular departments: home runs (39) and runs batted in (153).

At 33, Joe DiMaggio has black hair, beginning to be flecked with grey. Tall (6 ft. 2 in.) and solid (198 lbs.) in the smart double breasted suits he wears off the playing field, he might be mistaken for a man with an office in midtown Manhattan. The tipoff that he is an athlete is his walk. It has a flowing, catlike quality, without waste motion.

Unlike his perennial Red Sox rival, Ted Williams, who does pushups every morning to strengthen his wrists and forearm muscles, DiMag frowns on off-the-field exercise, likes to loll in bed until 10 a.m. or later. He is also fond of his food: "I don't diet. I believe in three square meals a day and I'm not ashamed to say I'm nuts about spaghetti."