There have been many talented baseball players during the
150-plus year existence of the game. Some have achieved glory and legendary
status, while others have had circumstances impede their efforts. Shortstop Charlie
Hollocher is a perfect example of this, as he was a star as a rookie in
1918, but out of the game by the age of 28, and dead not long after.
Charles
Jacob Hollocher was born on June 11, 1896 in St. Louis, Missouri. A talented
baseball player, he began his professional career in 1915, playing several
seasons in the minors, including 1916-17 with the Portland Beavers of the
Pacific Coast League. After hitting .276 in 1917, the 21-year-old left-handed hitter
was purchased by the Chicago Cubs, and he broke spring training the following
year as their starting shortstop.
The 1918 major league season was unusual in that it was
prematurely cut short because of the United States’ involvement
in World War I. Draft-eligible players were expected to do their part like the
rest of the country. However, none of this prevented “Holly” from having a
marvelous rookie campaign. He appeared in a National League-leading 131 games,
hitting .316 with two home runs, 38 RBIs and 26 stolen bases. He also led the
league in base hits (161) and total bases (202). The Cubs went an impressive
84-45 and won the pennant before succumbing to the Boston Red Sox four games to
two in the World Series.
The Cubs’ offense went silent during the Series, scoring
just 10 total runs in the six games. Their struggles at the plate were
personified by Hollocher, who had just three singles and a triple in 24 plate
appearances.
It appeared Hollocher’s career hit a major roadblock when he
was drafted into the Army after the 1918 season. However, he contracted
influenza, and was only well enough to report to duty on November 11, which
just happened to be the day that the Armistice was signed and the war
officially ended. He joked to the Chicago
Eagle that it “Seems harder to break into the army than it did to break
into the big league.”
Reprieved from going to war, he had a strong sophomore
campaign, hitting .270, but the Cubs slipped to third place.
Despite the strong start to his career, Hollocher began
experiencing stomach troubles. In 1920, while on a train trip to play the
Philadelphia Phillies, he took ill with what was diagnosed as food poisoning. Similar
symptoms returned later in the season, and by mid August he was hospitalized
with an unknown ailment that ultimately brought a premature end to his season. Playing
in just 80 games, he hit an impressive .319 and stole 20 bases.
He bounced back much healthier the next two seasons, hitting
.289 in 140 games in 1921, and posting his season as a pro in 1922 with a .340
batting average (The highest batting average by a shortstop since Honus Wagner
hit .354 for the 1908 Pittsburgh Pirates.), 201 base hits and 69 RBIs in 152
games. He was also one of the best defenders in the game, leading the league both
years in fielding percentage—all factors to being made the team captain.
More stomach trouble plagued Hollocher prior to the 1923
season. It seemed as soon as he started to feel better, he would relapse,
including while at spring training on Catalina Island in California. He didn’t
see the field in the regular season until mid-May but was hot out of the gate. He
was so well-regarded as a player that The
Daily Illini reported rumors the Cubs were contemplating including him in a
package of players to try and lure star second baseman Rogers
Hornsby from the St. Louis Cardinals.
Hollocher was playing through something that neither he nor
those around him understood. He did not feel well but his malady went
undiagnosed, which many construed as making it up. Finally, on July 26th, after
hitting .342 in 66 games, he had enough and left a note for his manager, Bill Killefer,
and went home for the year. The message read in part, “…feeling pretty rotten
so made up my mind to go home and take a rest and forget about baseball for the
rest of the year. No hard feelings, just didn’t feel like playing anymore.”
Showing that he was trying to get better instead of giving
up on the game, Hollocher applied for temporary retirement for the remainder of
1923 so he could remain in good standing. His application was approved by
commissioner Kennesaw Mountain Landis.
Interestingly, his early departure in 1923 didn’t prevent
Hollocher from holding out that offseason. The Cubs understandably didn’t
exactly rush to give their erstwhile dependable shortstop a big payday.
However, they ultimately agreed on a two-year deal worth $12,000.
He started out strong in 1924, hitting .288 in 16 May games.
The Daily Illini even reported on May 29th that a trade sending him to
the Brooklyn Dodgers in exchange for pitchers Dutch
Ruether and Leo
Dickerman, and outfielder Andy High
was imminent. However, from that point forward, Hollocher batted just .215
before finally deciding to go home again because of recurring stomach troubles.
Hollocher’s final major league appearance came on August 20,
1924 in the second game
of a double header against the Boston Braves. Batting third, he was hitless in
four at-bats, as his team was shut out on the strength of a three-run home run
by Boston outfielder Casey
Stengel, and the six hits pitcher Jesse Barnes
scattered over his complete-game shutout.
It’s important to note that doctors publicly announced they
could find nothing medically wrong with the shortstop. According to the Chicago Tribune, “The X-ray plates of
Charlie Hollocher’s stomach have definitely determined that there is nothing
organically wrong...” To this day it’s a mystery about what his actual
affliction was, but after that pronouncement was made he was on his own. Having
been medically “cleared,” he was viewed as a head case from instead of a person
with a legitimate medical concern that was not being addressed.
Always an outstanding contact hitter, Hollocher struck out just
94 times in his 3,393 career plate appearances, including a total of 17 times
over his last three seasons, spanning 1,304 trips to the dish. Done at the age
of 28, his .304 career batting average and 23.2 WAR in 760 games over seven
seasons is a tantalizing indication of what might have been.
It doesn’t appear Hollocher received much sympathy when he
decided to retire for good. This Norman E. Brown article
in the February 3, 1925 edition of The
Daily Illini was accompanied by a rather unflattering cartoon indicating
the player gave up the game merely because of a “nervous stomach.”
Although he annually tossed
around the idea of returning to the diamond as late as 1930, he never did
return to the game as a player—but he did work as a Cubs scout for one year in
1931. He also worked as an investigator, a night watchman at a drive-in theater, opened a tavern in St. Louis, and spent much of his free time playing
golf.
Hollocher tried to explain his circumstances in a Sporting News article published on
January 26, 1933, stating, “My health first broke at Catalina Island in the
spring of 1923… They advised me that I would ruin my health if I played ball
that season. But Bill Killefer, then manager of the Cubs, came to St. Louis and
urged me to join the team, telling me that I didn't have to play when I didn't
feel well. I yielded to Bill and, once in uniform, couldn't stay on the bench.
I played when I should have been home… Now I realize I made my mistake in
playing the 1923 season.”
After leaving baseball for good he was never able to shake
his physical maladies and the depression that came with them. Finally, on
August 14, 1944 in Frontenac, Missouri, his sad story closed its final chapter
when he killed himself with a gunshot to his neck. Just 44, he was buried in Oak
Hill Cemetery in Kirkwood, Missouri.
In his obituary in the New
York Times, Constable Arthur C. Mosley indicated Hollocher had just bought
a shotgun from a mail order store. The weapon with the price tag still attached
was found under his arm, next to his automobile; his membership card for the
Association of Professional Baseball Players only feet away. He had pulled over
from the highway to a driveway leading up to a partially demolished house. A
note simply stating, “Call Mrs. Ruth Hollocher” (his wife) was found on the car
dashboard. When questioned, she told police that her husband had been
complaining of ongoing abdominal pain just before his death.
Even in death, Hollocher’s actions were viewed suspiciously.
His suicide wasn’t met with much surprise, and the Chicago Herald-American wrote the former player was known as a
“moody, neurotic boy” since first joining the Cubs.
In retrospect, it’s easy to toss out theories as to what
afflicted Hollocher. Perhaps it was physical; perhaps it was mental; and
perhaps it was both. To this decidedly non-medical professional, it seems
plausible he could have suffered from a serious chronic condition like diverticulitis,
and then fallen into depression as the ongoing effects continued to ravage his
body. Again, that’s a total guess, but one that would make a great deal of
sense.
The ideas that Hollocher was a hypochondriac, moody or
couldn’t handle nerves ring hollow. He played major league baseball in bustling
Chicago for seven years, including captaining his team for a number of seasons.
He played in a majority of his team’s games in four of his seasons, and
throughout his career, when he was on the field, he played well. That just
doesn’t sound like someone who was bothered by pressure or was aloof.
Hollocher’s cousin, Bob Klinger,
pitched for the Pirates and Boston Red Sox for eight seasons in the 1930s and
1940s. Other than that, this one-time star is largely forgotten in the grand
scheme of baseball history. The truth may never be known about what ended his
career and ultimately his life, but no matter what that was it’s a great shame.
If he played in a later era the outcome would have undoubtedly been different.
Unfortunately, his star was knocked from its zenith way too early and he has
slipped out of the consciousness of most as yet another footnote of history.
List of Sources:
********************************
You can check me out on Facebook or follow me on Twitter @historianandrew
Hi Andrew - great blog as usual. Keep up the great work! This was a wonderful story about a man I had never heard of... is it possible he just never fully recovered from the Spanish Flu epidemic of 1918-19?
ReplyDeleteI wonder if modern science would be able to determine if he had a physical illness?
Thanks for continuing to present an honest account of baseball history.
Thanks, Andrew!
ReplyDeleteGreat theory. I honestly don't know. My best guess is diverticulitis , IBS or Krohns. Something that would have been acute but not well known, if at all. I thought he was a fascinating story.
Thanks for the article on "uncle Charlie", my grandfather's oldest brother. There were 3 brothers: Charlie, Milton & Robert. Milton played minor league baseball too.
ReplyDelete