The national newspapers began calling him “Rollicking Rollie” or “Jolly Rollie,” pegging him as a fun-loving guy who sometimes went too far. They, like much of the population, did not understand that Rollicking Rollie could not help himself. One drink would lead to two, then to seven or eight. He had a disease that no large fines or man-to-man talks would help. At times he went completely sober for several weeks, then something would set him off and the drinking would start all over again. His alcoholism did not allow him to have a beer or two and be on his way like most of his teammates. Rollie had a dangerous problem that went unabated for quite a long time.
Even during the off-season, Hemsley could not ease off on the alcohol. He bought a farm in Missouri, where he relocated his wife, Mildred, and young daughter, Joan. Rollie had some hunting dogs that he took deep into the wooded area on the farm. While searching for rabbits or squirrels, he always had a pint or two with him. He might go missing for several days until Mildred had to navigate the dense woods and bring him home.
Family members still relate a story about Rollie. Back in Syracuse, he liked to join his buddies for a jaunt down Route 124, where a string of popular taverns did business. One evening Rollie informed Mildred he would be borrowing the brand-new car he had just bought for her. Blanching at the thought of her husband careening down Route 124 and wrecking her car, she ran to the kitchen, grabbed a large knife, hustled to the car, and slashed the tires. A set of new tires was needed, but the car was saved from destruction.
With the bad events piling up, it would seem that Rollie’s career had reached a critical point. But in spite of all the riotous times and the all-night partying, Rollie somehow had an impressive season in 1934. Catching 123 games, he batted .309 with 133 hits and 7 triples. He did even better in 1935, earning a place on the All-Star team. He caught 141 games, a career high, while batting .290. He led the American League catchers in assists, while allowing only three passed balls the entire year. He accomplished this with many a black eye and impaired vision from the swelling. On one occasion he shuffled hungover into the ballpark with one eye completely closed and the other about half as bad. Manager Hornsby told Rollie that as punishment he would catch both ends of the doubleheader. Someway he managed to do the job without completely falling apart.
Although putting together several impressive seasons, Rollicking Rollie continued with his outrageous conduct. Regardless of this, he repeated as a 1936 All-Star. His on-field talent got the attention of several American League teams in addition to Cy Slapnicka. Talks were held with the Browns at the winter meetings, but nothing solid came to pass. In the meantime, Hemsley continued to solidify his reputation as the wildest man in baseball. According to Dan Daniels, a drunken Rollie boarded a Browns train to Washington with a basket of live frogs. He then entered the sleeping car and threw a frog into each player’s berth. On another occasion he patiently waited for his teammates to turn in for the night, then stole everyone’s shoes and hid them in another compartment.
In spring training of 1937, Rollie added to his long string of outlandish behavior. The Browns were traveling to Laredo, Texas, for an exhibition contest. After the game, the players had a train waiting to take them to San Antonio, where the team was staying. Few were surprised when Rollie vanished, missing the train ride back to camp. He had crossed the border into old Mexico to sample some of the famous local tequila.
Late that same evening he found his way back to San Antonio with a girl on each arm and two bottles of liquor stuffed in his back pockets. He stumbled into the lobby of the Browns’ hotel, where idling near the entrance were, of all people, new St. Louis owner Don Barnes, new general manager Bill Dewitt, and manager Rogers Hornsby. The men stared at Rollie for several minutes, then left for their rooms. Hemsley knew he could not talk his way out of this one.
The next morning Hemsley received a message to see his bosses immediately. The end result of the less-than-friendly meeting was a substantial fine and suspension. Rollie estimated he racked up a whopping total of $20,000 in fines, almost certainly the most of any ballplayer of his era. The deductions in pay never had any effect. He simply moved on to the next episode.
Over the course of the 1937 season, Hornsby grew weary of trying to curb Rollie’s behavior. He let the other American League clubs know his catcher was on the trading block. Near the end of the season, the Tigers showed interest in completing a trade for Hemsley. The Browns happened to be in Detroit for a late September series. After one of the games, Rollie, totally drunk stumbled into the team hotel. He raised a ruckus in the lobby, bad enough for the Detroit front office to hear about it. That incident killed any chance of a trade happening.
Even with all of this history, Slapnicka remained intent on acquiring the biggest headache in all of baseball. Perhaps he thought new manager Oscar Vitt had the right stuff to tame Rollie and convert him into a model citizen. Possibly the general manager believed he could show the catcher a better way. The Indians still had Frankie Pytlak, a good backstop the front office would keep around for insurance. Be that as it may, the Cleveland Indians hadn’t the vaguest idea of what they were truly in for.
Chapter 5
VITT TAKES OVER
On February 19, 1938, Bob Feller arrived in Cleveland to sign his generous contract for the upcoming season. A gala event was planned, including a live radio broadcast from the remarkable new studios of WTAM. A huge investment from NBC Radio enabled construction of a modern building on Superior Avenue downtown to house the state-of-art-facilities. The radio executives from New York were on hand as the public got its first view of the broadcast area and related studios. Approximately 650 guests attended for an evening of cocktails, a swank dinner, and dancing. At 9:00 p.m. a live broadcast of music from New York swept through the new sound system. At the half hour the entertainment switched to a local dance band and several comics who were performing at the nearby Palace Theatre.
Then came the main event of the evening. Out to the podium walked WTAM sports reporter Tom Manning, decked out in a fancy tailcoat. Behind him were Alva Bradley and national celebrity Bob Feller. The invited guests toned down their conversations to watch the two men put their signatures on a contract for $17,500, a considerable deal for a player yet to win more than nine games in a season. Feller assured the crowd his arm was fine, he had actually grown a half inch, and was primed for a big season. The extraordinary program ended moments later with a live hookup to the BBC in London, bringing the unmistakable chimes of Big Ben direct from Westminster Palace. It was a truly a modern evening for all who attended, a chance to see and hear the best of Cleveland and the world.
Within days the Cleveland players would gather from all around the country and head south for New Orleans. This spring had some real significance in bringing in new ballplayers and a first-time Major League manager in Oscar Vitt. Much of the hype around Vitt’s hiring was positive, citing him as a man who could whip the Indians into shape and mold them into a pennant contender. Alva Bradley spoke highly of his new field boss, telling reporters, “I was deeply impressed by his personality. I believe he has the dynamic qualities a baseball leader needs.”
Baseball Magazine had similar plaudits for Vitt. The article read in part, “Oscar is well-equipped to handle any disorder or dissension that may crop out on his club. He was matured in the Detroit clubhouse during the seething days of Ty Cobb when the place was frequently a fiery furnace of discord.” The Cleveland players did not exactly conjure up visions of a fiery furnace, though in players like Johnny Allen and the freewheeling Rollie Hemsley loomed the potential for big trouble. Vitt had spent his entire managing career in the minor leagues. He had many years of dealing with willing young ballplayers struggling to make it the Majors. Now he had to prove his worth with a team of veterans in their late twenties or early thirties who had yet to win. Quite a challenging scenario to walk into.
Oscar Vitt was a native of San Francisco, California, where he was born on January 4, 1890. While just a youngster he developed great foot speed, enabling him to outrun the bigger boys intent on giving him a whipping. At times Oscar stood his ground, threw several punches, then raced away to safety. He played a lot of handball, not doing much on the baseball diamond until high school. He attended a technical school, where he studied architecture.
On April 18, 1906, when Vitt was