Bad Boys, Bad Times. Scott H. Longert
Rollie’s father, Joe, had a keen interest in baseball. When not laboring in the coal mines, he played or watched games at the nearby King Field. Rollie and his brothers, Doug and Joe Jr., followed the head of the family to the mines, collecting six dollars a day for backbreaking work. Rollie would later remark, “Baseball’s a soft job compared to blasting your way through those hunks of coal.”
When Rollie reached his twelfth birthday, he began training to be a big-time catcher. Joe took him into the backyard and threw him curveballs by the hour. Before long Rollie played at King Field, catching for Joe’s semipro team. The ballpark had a grandstand, a dirt field, and a deep center field, complete with a wide area of cornstalks. Teams from the Ohio Valley League scheduled games at the ground, and occasionally a Major League club stopped by for an exhibition game.
Rollie, now known as “Dutch” by his teammates, proved fearless behind home plate. He would reach a height of five feet, ten inches and never weigh more than 170 pounds. He had unusually big hands that helped him stop pitches in the dirt and whistle throws to second base. He played like a polished veteran, soon drawing attention from several minor league clubs. At age seventeen he got an opportunity to join the 1925 Frederick, Maryland, club in the Blue Ridge League. Rollie showed steady progress in his three seasons in Frederick, batting .311 in 1927 with nine triples and twelve home runs. In one of the games Rollie went five for five with two home runs, two doubles, and a single. In another contest he took part in a rarely seen double play. With a runner on first base, the batter lifted a short fly into right field. The Frederick first baseman dashed to the outfield and made a fine over-the-shoulder catch. Hemsley, alertly noticing that the base runner had strayed too far from first, whipped off his mask and sprinted down the first-base line. He yelled for the ball and got the return throw before the startled runner could slide back to the bag. These top-rate performances earned him a promotion to Wichita of the Western League, though he never actually played a game there. The Pittsburgh Pirates tracked Rollie down and bought his contract outright. Hemsley would report in 1928 to spring training and compete for a spot on the roster.
The Pirates were not aware that Rollie had begun drinking in the 1927 season. To complicate things, the Pirates’ star outfielder, the great Paul Waner, besides being a tremendous hitter and all-around player, had a serious problem with alcohol. Before long the two players became drinking buddies, starting Rollie on an eleven-year binge. He often arrived at the ballpark with abrasions on his face and sometimes a grotesque black eye. Regardless, he managed to play through the hangovers, well enough to remain the backup catcher.
In one particular game he got livid with umpire Bill Klem regarding his judgment of balls and strikes. Rollie called Klem a “blind bat.” Klem replied, “Young man, you’ve been drinking!” Hemsley fired back, “And from the way you’re umpiring, you could have too!” The veteran umpire then told the fuming catcher to go take a seat on the bench and sober up for the remainder of the game.
In spite of this terrible behavior, Rollie somehow improved his game, working his way up to be the Pirates number one catcher. In 1931, just after the regular season got underway, manager Jewel Ens agreed to let Hemsley stop home in Syracuse for a day before embarking with the team on their first road trip. Rollie took off and was not heard of or seen again for a full week. He did not try to contact the Pirates front office during the entire time he went AWOL. He eventually reported with a flimsy explanation he was sick. Ens, completely fed up, suspended him for two weeks, then traded him to the Chicago Cubs.
Rollie moved on to a new environment in Chicago that featured two of the most notorious drinkers in all of baseball, outfielder Hack Wilson and pitcher Pat Malone. In no time at all, Rollie became completely unhinged. The reporters soon noticed his bloodshot eyes and disheveled appearance. Manager Rogers Hornsby, hardly a friend to the ballplayers, somehow tolerated the mischief of his new catcher. Gabby Hartnett caught most of the games, leaving Rollie to play once or twice a week. Still, he was effective, batting .309 in sixty-six games.
It took Hornsby another year to tire of Rollie’s bad conduct. Before the start of the 1933 season, Hemsley went to the Cincinnati Reds in a five-player trade. Chicago received slugger Babe Herman in exchange for four players from the Cubs. Rollie floundered in his new environment, batting a feeble .190 in forty-nine games. He only made it to August before the Reds released him, putting his career in jeopardy.
In an exceptionally strange set of circumstances, the St. Louis Browns claimed Rollie. Certainly they needed help anywhere they could find it; however, their new manager happened to be none other than Rogers Hornsby. Why the former Cubs boss believed Hemsley could be of any help is puzzling. He had seen the outrageous behavior, the black eyes, the cuts and bruises, yet still wanted Rollie to catch for him.
Before packing his things and reporting to St. Louis, Hemsley got into a scary automobile accident. He walked away from the crash, and when he caught up with the Browns, Hornsby penciled him into the lineup. But while dressing, his new teammates noticed the gruesome cuts and bruises covering his body. Several told Rollie to talk with Hornsby and sit out the game. He advised them all to shut up and mind their own business. He likely feared that if the manager found out, his days with the Browns might be over before they started. Rollie caught the game and finished the year with the club.
In the first half of 1934 Hemsley found a way to slow down the drinking and played great ball. The newspapers raved about his batting, his work behind the plate, and his clever handling of the pitching staff. The new Rollie lasted until midseason when the Browns finished a series in Chicago. Before leaving for Detroit, manager Hornsby notified the players they could take in the World’s Fair and catch a late train east. The players dressed quickly and ambled off to the fair. Rollie left the clubhouse with pal Frank Grube and headed in a completely different direction. The two partied until late in the evening. In due course they reached the train station several hours after their ride had left. The boys drank some more, then caught an early morning train bound for Detroit. Riding with them were renowned bandleader Ted Lewis and his entire orchestra. The musicians matched the ballplayers bottle for bottle. Upon arriving at the station, Hemsley and Grube dove into a cab. At this point they had been celebrating for well over twelve hours.
They rushed to the hotel, hoping to sober up a little then report to the ballpark. Both reached the revolving doors at the same time and pushed in the opposite directions. Neither man would yield, causing the mechanism supporting the doors to snap. Maintenance people were summoned to repair the whole thing while guests of the hotel stood by and had to wait to get in or out.
Hemsley and Grube raced to the park, arriving in time for practice. Manager Hornsby eyed both of them and called for the team to line up. He then asked each and every player if they enjoyed the World’s Fair. One by one the guys said yes, they had a great time. When Hornsby reached Grube he asked him the same question. Grube said he had fun there. Hornsby smiled and said, “You are fined $150.” Several players later he stood directly in front of Rollie. Asked the same query, Hemsley said he had a great time. This time Hornsby smiled and said, “You are fined $300.” The catcher frowned and blurted out, “Why is my fine $300?” Hornsby calmly replied, “Because you are more valuable to the club!”
All seemed well until late August, when Rollie got into a much-publicized bar fight. On a day off he rented a car and wound up in a tavern legendary for drawing rowdy sailors just off the boat. According to Hemsley, he was relaxing at the bar when one of the drunken sailors bumped into him. The two had words and within minutes were brawling inside, then on the streets outside of the bar. Several other sailors joined the fight, prompting a call to the local police, who arrived within minutes. As they were struggling to pull apart the severely drunken warriors, Rollie, according to the police, belted one of the cops square in the face, then tried to take his badge. The police subdued Hemsley and carted him off to jail. He was charged with drunk and disorderly conduct and driving without a license. The Browns gave him an immediate fine and suspension.
Rollie later claimed the charges were unjustified. He explained to reporters, “I was in a tavern when a sailor bumped up against me and I told him to watch his step. A row followed and I knocked the sailor cold. I did not resist the officer and he did not strike me, nor did I try to hit him.” Nobody bought Hemsley’s version of the incident, and the charges remained