How Hearing Loss Changed the Game of
Baseball
There was a kid
on a baseball team at his high school, excellent at hitting, pitching and
throwing, who felt like an outcast. When the team huddled together, or joked
about how the game went he stood off to the side. His coach was concerned and was determined to
change things. You see, this kid was
deaf and unable to join in. Coach took
the team aside and they all agreed to start learning sign language. From then on the atmosphere in the locker
room changed. They started winning more games and enjoyed their new found skills. Fans in the bleachers noticed the change and joined in with deaf applause, a giant waving of the hands.
This leads to
another deaf ball player named Dummy Hoy, who changed the game of baseball forever
by creating hand signals to communicate with each other during the game. This is his story:
William Ellsworth “Dummy” Hoy (1862-1961) was the first deaf player to have a long career in the major leagues. He was born in 1862 in Houcktown, northern Ohio, graduated from Ohio School for the Deaf, began his professional career in 1886, played for several major-league teams from 1888 to 1902, and died in Cincinnati in 1961 at the age of 99 years and 5 months. He enjoyed a long and successful career in baseball: 18 seasons on professional teams, including 5 with the Cincinnati Red Stockings. He was one of the few players to have played in 4 of the 5 recognized major leagues: The National League, the short-lived Players’ League, the original American Association, and the American League.
Hoy was a small man, 5'4" or
5'5" tall, weighing 145-155 pounds, probably the shortest major-league
outfielder in history. What he lacked in heft, he made up for in cunning and
swiftness. He was a celebrated “flyhawk,” a great centerfielder, on a par
with Joe DiMaggio, Willie Mays, and Tris Speaker.
During his rookie year in the
majors (1888), Hoy led the National League with 82 stolen bases, a record
that tops those of some of the most celebrated Hall of Famers. (Ty Cobb stole
no bases during his rookie year, Babe Ruth 10.) His career total: 597 to 607
stolen bases (depending on which account you read).
Hoy had a respectable .288 (.292
according to some counts) lifetime batting average, and 2,054 hits. He once
hit .357. He had 1,004 walks, and played in 1,798 major-league games. As
baseball historian Nicholas Dawidoff has noted: “He was always among the
league leaders in assists, totaling 318 in his 14 years, including an
astounding 45 in 1900 . . . [on the] Chicago White Stockings”. Over the
course of 137 games Hoy, who was then 38, had 337 putouts and a .977 fielding
average to go along with his 45 assists. It was the only time an outfielder
has ever led the majors in all three categories.”
An ill-fated fly ball batted by
Hoy in 1894 was responsible for the league-wide ban on uniform breast
pockets—a ban still in effect.
Hoy’s own proudest achievement was
throwing out three baserunners at home plate in one game—an unprecedented and
seldom-equaled feat.
There are numerous accounts of
Hoy’s exploits, and many of these can be verified from contemporary newspaper
accounts. One popular story from his Oshkosh days tells how Hoy chased and
caught a fly ball while balancing on the shaft of a buggy parked inside the
stadium. Some versions of the tale have Hoy leaping astride the horse to
catch the ball!
Hoy was gentlemanly and polite,
well-liked by his teammates, and never (or seldom) got thrown out of a game
for misconduct—quite a feat in those unruly days! His honesty was legendary.
During one game, in darkening dusk, the umpire called the batter out for
catching a ball on the fly, which sparked a commotion. He asked Hoy, who was
playing center field, if the ball had been caught on the fly or on the
bounce. Hoy told him it had been caught “on the bounce.” The umpire called
the batter safe. Hoy’s teammates were furious. Hoy was satisfied that he had
told the truth.
Hoy taught his teammates how to
communicate in sign language—very useful on the field. The fans loved him.
When he made a spectacular play, fans stood in the bleachers and wildly waved
their arms and hats—an early form of “Deaf applause.”
Most importantly, Hoy played a
pioneering role in the creation of the hand signals still used today in
baseball games throughout the world. When he began his professional career in
Oshkosh, all umpires’ calls were shouted. While at bat, Hoy had to ask his
coach if a ball or strike had been called. The opposing pitcher took
advantage of Hoy’s distraction, quick-pitching him—sending out the next pitch
before he was ready. (He batted only .219 during his first season.) Around
1887, according to this story, Hoy wrote out a request to the third-base
coach, asking him to raise his left arm to indicate a ball, his right arm for
a strike. Hoy could follow the hand signals after each pitch, and be ready
for the next. And the umpires and other players found these signals so useful
that they became standard practice—they’re still used everywhere. Hoy adapted
the “out” and “safe” signals from ASL.
Thus, the intricate system of
baseball hand signals—the umpire’s signals, manager’s call signals to
batters, and the outfielders’ call signals now used in all levels of baseball
and softball, can be traced to him and other early players like Edward Joseph
“Dummy” Dundon and Luther Haden “Dummy” Taylor.
Umpire Bill Klem’s plaque in the
Hall of Fame credits him with inventing hand signals (which he is supposed to
have done in 1905). But old newspaper clippings as far back as 1888 contain
explicit references to Hoy and his hand signals—well before Klem began
his umpiring career.
Ever since the Hoy Committee began
actively campaigning for his induction, they have brought Hoy’s case to the
attention of the Veterans Committee of the National Baseball Hall of Fame
(which inducts players from past eras). Thanks to their persistence in
increasing Hoy’s visibility, his name has been included on the annual ballots
several times. But year after year, Hoy has been bypassed in favor of players
with less impressive careers. The campaign continues.
Without “Dummy” Hoy, baseball just
wouldn’t be the same.
Hoy deserves to be recognized for
his achievements—not hearsay, not myth, not folklore, not legend, but the
plain facts.
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