Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens announced Friday he willl retire from the bench this summer.

But being part of the United States' top court isn't John Paul Stevens' only connection to history. The soon-to-be 90-year-old also witnessessed Babe Ruth's famous "Called Shot" during the 1932 World Series.

Former Orlando Sentinel writer Chris Harry visited with Justice John Paul Stevens about that historic Babe Ruth Home run in 2007.

Here is his story, originally published in the Orlando Sentinel on Sept. 30, 2007.

By Chris Harry, Orlando Sentinel

The second strike to Babe Ruth drew relentless razzing from the Chicago Cubs dugout.

That much we know.

What happened next -- specifically, the interpretation of it all -- touched off one of baseball's most romanticized controversies and gave birth to arguably the greatest urban myth in sports history.

The "Called Shot" turns 75 on Monday.

This summer, Barry Bonds gave us home run No. 756, the legitimacy of which will be debated for a long time because of chemical reasons. And probably without conclusion.

What Ruth did at Wrigley Field on Oct. 1, 1932 -- moments before hitting the final World Series homer of his legendary career -- was something witnesses argued about for years, also.

Only a few are left.

"He pointed toward the scoreboard in center field," said one Cubs fan who was there. "That much I do know."

No need to make this witness swear on the Bible.

We'll take Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens, now 87, at his word.

Some 43 years before President Gerald Ford appointed him in 1975 to the highest court in the land, Stevens was a wideeye, 12-year-old who worshiped the Cubs.

"I was a very, very loyal fan," Stevens said from his office in Washington. "And those were some great teams we cheered for."

That year, the Cubs faced the greatest team of the era, and possibly the greatest (if not most colorful) player of all time.

The New York Yankees led the series 2-0. With Franklin Delano Roosevelt, just a month from being elected president, sitting behind home plate, Ruth had clubbed a three-run shot earlier in the game, but the Cubs had rallied to tie the score in the fourth.

Chicago pitcher Charley Root threw a fastball past Ruth in the fifth to go up a strike, and the Cubs bench, led by pitcher Guy Bush, began heckling the "Bambino." Bush even stepped onto the field and made a "whammy" gesture in Ruth's direction.

"I remember Bush was in some running razzing business with Ruth. He came out of the dugout," Stevens recalled. "That's when Ruth pointed toward the scoreboard. My interpretation of that was, 'I'm going to knock you to the moon!' The fact is, he did point."

Root threw back-to-back balls before firing strike two past Ruth, much to the delight of the home crowd. And team.

Again, Bush was out of the dugout.

Again, Ruth pointed toward center field.

"After that, I know there's lots of skepticism," Stevens said.

Dissenting opinions, some might say.

According to accounts of the game - and they differ wildly - the second strike prompted Ruth to point again. Some on the field claim to have heard him say he still had another strike coming.

But the Cubs let him have it some more, as Root went into his windup.

The 2-2 pitch was a changeup that Ruth ripped like a laser, a shot some estimates put at 490 feet.

Right where he had pointed, too.

The homer propelled the Yankees to a 7-5 victory, with headlines in the next day's New York World- Telegram screaming, "RUTH CALLS SHOT, PUTS HOME RUN NO. 2 IN SIDE POCKET."

The Yankees wrapped up their sweep of the Series the next day with a 13-6 victory.

In the years to come, Ruth publicly claimed that he did, indeed, point to where he planned to send the pitch. Privately, however, he was said to have laughed off the notion, including an exchange with Root nearly a decade later while on the set of Pride of the Yankees, the 1942 film that depicted the life of teammate Lou Gehrig.

"Made for a [heck] of a story, didn't it?" Ruth said.

Still does.

One that Stevens has cited more than his favorite legal precedent.

"I've told it too many times to count," he said. "I guess it's my claim to fame."